Iron Crisis Part 2 (IC)

[Amnestic]

The central troll continues to be forced to run away, stop, turn around and come back, screeching with frustration as the magic dances around its feet and bids them to run this way and that. Senna's glowing spirit-weapon skitters across the feared troll's rubbery hide, and the necrotic slice of magic from her bells makes a mark, but it seems to heal entirely almost immediately. At the same time, Vala and Melian lay into the closest opposition, with Caelyn's flaming bolt striking it right in the face, engulfing its hair in fire. It collapses to the ground, overcome by wounds that no longer shut, and Vala steps over its corpse to begin work on 'Yoyo'.

At the same time, perhaps offput by its inability to move forward and seeing its companion die, the feared troll takes a step or two backwards, its roars less angry and more concerned. There's a clear indication in its body language that its interest in continuing the fight is waning, having been unable to attack even once and watching its fellow fall to flames.

Spoiler: Map

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One down. Vala down to 44 health. Right-troll still feared.

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam Half-Dragon Warlock | Imp Familiar AC: 12 HP: 39/39 | AC: 13 HP: 10/10 PP: 10|14 PIv: 15|10 PIs: 11|13 Conditions: --- | -- Holding onto the troll's dreadlocks with grim satisfaction as it burns up, Grepha lets go only when she feels it go limp and fall to the ground. She flaps her wings and circles around to do the same to the one Sam had been forcing to dance back and forth, snatching at its hair and making a deliciously flammable and open target for Caelyn. Wanting to conserve at least some of his magic, Sam gathers energy bolts in each hand and hurls them at the new target. Spoiler: Rolls Show Sam: Move 1 East, 1 Southeast to just below Melian, to get a better shot on Yoyo. Two Eldritch Blasts, no shoves this time. (1d20+6)[15] Blast 1 (1d10)[4] force damage (1d20+6)[24] Blast 2 (1d10)[9] force damage Grepha: Help action on Cae's next fire bolt against Yoyo.

[cigaw]

Melian Galanodel Eladrin Bladesinger AC: 13 (20) HP: 34/34 PP: 14 PIv: 17 PIs: 11 Conditions: Mage Armor (8h), Bladesong (1min) Concentrating: -- The wizard briefly considers casting a disabling spell on the trolls, but Senna has one of them occupied and the other already has a small imp clinging to it. The fight seems well in hand, so she advances by Vala's side and again strikes at her foe. Spoiler: Round 4 Show • Move: 5' NE, beside Vala • Bonus: -- • Action: Booming Blade vs Troll - Attack: (1d20+7)[19] - Damage: (1d8+4)[12] + (1d8)[8] Thunder (holey moley max damage ) - Extra (2d8)[6] Thunder if it moves before my next turn. Bladesong: +INT AC, +10' move, ADV DEX (Acro), +INT CON Saves and Concentration.

[purepolarpanzer]

Caelyn Syol'arael Wood Elf Druid AC: 15 HP: 39/39 PP: 17 PIv: 10 PIs: 17 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: Stepping forward at a measured pace, Caelee moves adjacent to her older sister and flicks her wand across her eyeline while spitting a few words of Druidic, fire guttering into life at the end of the wood and igniting around the sharpened metal arrow head. In the wake of the flames, three scorching rays appear and hurl out, one at the uncertain troll and two at the troll being engaged by Vala. If the doubter was looking for a reason to flee the fight she would give it to him. Licks of fire flowed down from the corner of her eyes, the tips of her fingers, and from the corners of her mouth. She didn't realize she was laughing until the rays hit home, when the smell of charred troll reached her. Just a few more spells. Don't go full torch yet, Caelee. Keep it together.. She did her best to silence the laughing, but she couldn't suppress a few giggles.

Spoiler: OOC

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Move NE to be directly W of Melian. Three rays total. First one at the coward troll- (1d20+7)[19] to hit and (2d6+2)[8] fire damage. One with advantage at the troll Vala is whaling on. (1d20+7)[21] to hit, (1d20+7)[8] advantage, and (2d6+2)[11] fire damage. Third ray at the troll fighting Vala again. (1d20+7)[21] to hit and (2d6+2)[13] fire damage.

[Spore]

Senna Human Arcana Cleric AC: 18 HP: 33/33 PP: 17 PIv: 12 PIs: 17 Conditions: Spiritual Weapon Concentration: Cause Fear (Troll) Seeing as her siblings had things under control, Senna does more of the same, this time focussing on the troll already engaged with Vala. Spoiler Show Spiritual Weapon (1d20+7)[24] (1d8+4)[9] force damage Toll the Dead (1d20-1)[6] Wisdom save vs 15 or take (2d12)[18] necrotic damage

[Amnestic]

Your movements fall into sync with one another, bouncing spells and steel one after another. Vala doesn't even have a chance to strike at the troll again, it falls beneath the onslaught of magic and melee (some of which is also magical) before she can pull her spear into another attack. It collapses at her and Melian's feet, leaving only the troll still gripped by the tense fear that Senna has inflicted upon it. The arcane fear has now given birth to real fear however, and after seeing its fellows cut down so brutally and quickly, and after receiving a searing burn on the shoulder from Caelyn's ray, it decides that discretion is the better part of not getting murdered, turns on its heels, and flees into the forest.

Its trail is obvious, of course, it's making no attempt to hide itself, just put distance between you and it. It's not difficult to follow if you so wish, but the immediate threat has ended. Vala's aura and flower crown dissipates, she can still fight, but the brief interlude is enough for the magic to disperse, turning her back to 'normal' again. Loog gives an impressed whistle. "Glad I didn't try to fight you."

Spoiler: OOC

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The troll is still feared and is now in full retreat mode. Not gonna keep up with maps (since limited square footage and not very interesting to picture) for it but if you want to pursue to finish it off you can do. Otherwise combat ends here.

[cigaw]

Melian Galanodel Eladrin Bladesinger AC: 13 (20) HP: 34/34 PP: 14 PIv: 17 PIs: 11 Conditions: Mage Armor (8h) Concentrating: -- Melian allows the troll to flee, holding on to the Bladesong as she scans her surroundings one last time. She then lets out a slow breath and feels the grip of the song release. With an easy flourish, she flings the trolls' blood from her blade before sliding it back in its scabbard. She turns back to Loog and offers him a noncommittal shrug before calling her familiar back down from the treetops.

[Amnestic]

You get a moment to catch your breath as you leave the troll to its life - for now, at least. So efficient was your dispatching of the trolls that Loog seems to have given up on any further thoughts of escape, and now stands quite dutifully next to Rosc Roche, waiting for you to finish up so the travel can continue. A survey of the troll's previous feeding site reveals a number of mutilated, mostly consumed bodies with scattered bloody parts left over. Judging by the scraps of armour, bent swords and scattered accoutrements those being fed upon before your arrival may have been bandits, just like Loog. He doesn't seem particularly torn up at their deaths. Most of their gear is damaged beyond repair and good for nothing, but you do spot a fetching multi-coloured cap, a somehow-unsmashed potion vial, and a few pockets of coinage.

Once you've finished dealing with the bodies and salvaging what you can, your path continues on through the dense forest. Hours pass under the scorching sun only helped slightly by the dense tree cover. Over small dried rivulets, circling minor ponds and lakes, Loog directs you on and on, using Caelyn and the sun to make sure that you stay following the direction intended. "Way it works," he says, by way of explanation, "is the bosses pick a direction and hunting groups are meant to just scout around 'til they get back to camp. No proper markers or 'owt."

Later afternoon, when the sun is casting longer shadows but still blazing, you come across the trail of what is clearly a massive troop of people (not all of which are human, judging by the size of some footprints), horses and equipment that's been carved through the forest. With all the prints on top of each other it's nigh impossible to get exact numbers, but Loog bends down to look at the prints, poking at the edges of some gently, as if to ascertain just how rigid the marking is. "Reckon we're pretty close. If you wanna get inside you'll want to stay on the path so they can see you comin'. Come outta the forest, even with me in tow, and they'll feather you faster than you can say somethin' fast."

Spoiler: Loot

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Coinage: 45gp

Spoiler: Cap of Waterbreathing

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While wearing this cap underwater, you can speak its command word as an action to create a bubble of air around your head. It allows you to breathe normally underwater. This bubble stays with you until you speak the command word again, the cap is removed, or you are no longer underwater.

Spoiler: Cap Appearance

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Spoiler: Potion of Greater Healing

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Heals 4d4+4 when quaffed. Gulp!

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam Half-Dragon Warlock | Imp Familiar AC: 12 HP: 39/39 | AC: 13 HP: 10/10 PP: 10|14 PIv: 15|10 PIs: 11|13 Conditions: --- | -- Landing on Sam's shoulder, Grepha inquires to him telepathically. "May I go ahead and scout the area?" Sam nods in agreement and she takes off, flying invisibly in her raven form to get a literal bird's eye view of the bandit camp, and perhaps sweep lower to examine their defenses and facilities. "Greph's scouting, so we can take a break," Sam tells the others, leaning against a tree. "How are you doing, Vala?" he asks, offering a hand glimmering with eerie red infernal healing magic if she needs it.

[Spore]

Senna Human Arcana Cleric AC: 18 HP: 33/33 PP: 17 PIv: 12 PIs: 17 Conditions: - Concentration: - We should probably know the general makeup of the camp. Say Loog, is it a more permanent affair, so you could mark the general areas on a crude map? she says as she has taken four different sized branches to craft a relatively detailed map in the sand, apparently expecting some kind of eidetic memory. Also remember that if you run or alert the others, my sisters can end you silently, and my brother and I can end you with magic even if you evade their attacks. she adds calmly, as if mentioning what's for dinner tonight.

[purepolarpanzer]

Caelyn Syol'arael Wood Elf Druid AC: 15 HP: 39/39 PP: 17 PIv: 10 PIs: 17 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: Caelee settles on the ground, nervously carving her staff while they wait for Grepha to return from scouting. There will be a lot of them... but we can handle it, right? She nearly cuts her thumb off before turning her attention back to her staff, focusing on telling the story of the troll fight.

[Amnestic]

"Yeah yeah, I saw what you do with the trolls, I ain' suicidal, no' goin' anywhere. Like my head attached to me neck." Loog replies To Senna, doing a poor job of waving her off with his hands bound. "It ain' like they got one layout for this sorta thin', they switch it up based on terrain don' they? I dunno what it looks like this time, not been to it since they moved last."

"If we're taking a breather I wouldn't say no to a quick pick-me-up." Vala says, accepting the offer of healing. The scratches are already scabbing over, a good night's rest would set her straight, but if more fighting was to come today she wouldn't mind a small boost to keep her head in the game.

Grepha flying overhead immediately spots the camp, though it's still a mile or so off from the party. She'd have to scout alone and report back. From above, invisible, she's able to pick out numerous details to relay back - it's roughly 150 feet across and just as wide, thouugh not laid out in a simple square. There's four paths of entry - two to the south, one to the west and one to the north. All four are guarded by at least two watchers, and there seem to be what looks like ballista guarding the western entrance, with what may be a catapult pointed north. Thick stakes are tied together and point outwards from the paths, ensuring that any force attacking would have to slow their pace and carefully navigate through the maze to breach the walls, and any cavalry charge would instantly collapse against it.

The walls themselves are a spiked palisade - easy enough to climb over given time though potentially deadly if you happen to slip while atop them. Inside the camp Grepha can spot roughly 35 to 40 heads visible. They're a mixed bag, with the majority of humans (Blacktalons, one can assume) in the northeastern side of camp with large cages, two of which contain hunting dogs like those you saw with Loog and company. On the opposite southwest side of the camp, hobgoblins and gnolls bicker back and forth, feasting and occasionally getting into minor brawls. On the northwest of the camp is a smaller set of tents with a number of unarmed, unarmoured humans. A close inspection shows that they're each wearing a shackle around one ankle, connected to a weight. It's not enough to stop them moving about, but does slow and lop-side their movement enough that fleeing is not a likely prospect. They seem to be working under the watchful eye of the western guards. Some pluck birds and skin animals while others work a makeshift forge, hammering out weapons and tools. There's at least a dozen horses tied up in the Chill side of camp, watering quietly but otherwise apparently at ease.

In the southeast of the camp stand two ogres, guarding what looks to be a large skull - possibly of an enormous kobold, possibly of a small dragon, surrounded by a few open bags of gold and other trinkets. In the dead centre of the camp are two larger tents secluded by a second palisade wall and guarded by another set of watchguards - one hobgoblin, one human.

Those on watch seem alert, prepared and diligent, while those not on duty seem carefree and relaxed - though Grepha may note that weapons are never that far away from them if needed.

Spoiler: Camp Layout

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[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam Half-Dragon Warlock | Imp Familiar AC: 12 HP: 39/39 | AC: 13 HP: 10/10 PP: 10|14 PIv: 15|10 PIs: 11|13 Conditions: --- | -- With a nod, Sam reaches over and touches Vala's arm, the magic flowing out to smooth out and mend the claw marks left by the trolls. Spoiler: Rolls Show Warlock slot to Cure Wounds on Vala. (2d8+3)[19] Returning from her scouting run, Grepha circles around and descends to meet with the others. After landing on Sam's shoulder with a familiar weight, she reappears. "Permission to speak freely, master." The telepathic words resonate, dripping with passive aggression towards her new rules. "Give us the details," Sam confirms. Transforming back into imp form, Grepha requests and receives a bit of parchment from Sam's messy bird's nest of a pack. She illustrates a rough outline of the camp, using one of their camping plates as a flat surface to write on. As she goes, the imp lists off the things she's seen. "They are especially prepared for an assault from the north or the west, with basic siege weapons. If we wanted to sabotage their defenses, the best way would be to sabotage those and be on guard shift when our reinforcements arrive."

[purepolarpanzer]

Caelyn Syol'arael Wood Elf Druid AC: 15 HP: 39/39 PP: 17 PIv: 10 PIs: 17 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: Caelee traces her finger to Grepha's map, indicating key points one at a time. The things I note for myself are the dogs here. I could charm them to our side, but it's right beside their leaders tent, so there's risk. And the slaves here. We should try to save them. And the horses here. That is our best bet for getting out if things go the wrong way. We'll have to clear out some of the spikes to move people in and out, and I think the best approach of the fist is in the west, assuming we disable the ballista.

[cigaw]

Melian Galanodel Eladrin Bladesinger AC: 13 (16) HP: 34/34 PP: 14 PIv: 17 PIs: 11 Conditions: Mage Armor (8h) Concentrating: -- The wizard kneels before the rough map and thinks silently for a moment. "There are multiple opportunities for sabotage or distractions. From the inside we might be able to generate quite a bit of chaos, hopefully in tandem with the Fist's arrival. We have the slaves and dogs as mentioned and we might even be able to use that catapult to damage their own fortifications, generating an opening for inbound troops." She pauses a moment. "If the catapult is that close to that makeshift forge we might even be able to fire an incendiary shot." She clicks her tongue, frowning. "I am concerned about the larger tents. We know nothing of the leadership there. The skull is also strange; it seems like a strange trophy... perhaps it serves some ceremonial purpose? I've had my fill of evil deity avatars as of late."

[Spore]

Senna Human Arcana Cleric AC: 18 HP: 33/33 PP: 17 PIv: 12 PIs: 17 Conditions: - Concentration: - Senna silently summons her calico cat. Glyph can check the tents so Grepha can stay airborne. If they catch her, we still have the support of my least favorite devil. Senna states plainly. Glyph protests heavily against the apparent disrespect against her form, maybe making mental notes as to ditch her master at the next opportunity. Senna turns to her sisters. It might sound a bit chaotic at first, but I am surprised it hasn't come up with our group, but if it goes wrong we can still just burn the thing down, right? I mean we have a dragon, a pyromaniac and a wizard for crying out loud. She smiles and you are sure Senna doesn't mean it. But she could, assuming she travels down the same path she does ever since you left Candlekeep. On a more serious note, we have the best chances if we can turn both bandit groups against each other. As I understand, Loog, neither side particularly likes the other?

[Amnestic]

"They've got prisoners, Senna." Vala chimes in, a clear note of concern in her voice at the suggestion you burn the camp down. She has clearly not understood it wasn't a serious suggestion, or might just be offput that it'd even be raised as a joke, given Senna's ruthless words from the night before. "We can't just set fire to the place, if they can't run they'll be trapped by the flames." She pauses, a little bit of trepidation creeping into her words. "There's got to be a better way."

Loog's still as talkative as ever - when called upon at least. He seems quite eager not to stick his voice in when it's not wanted, the encounter with the trolls still fresh on his mind. "Yer no' wron'. No love lost between Chill and our crew. Always fightin' over loot, targets, food, drink, or just fightin' in general. S'why they're kept as separate as possible. Tenhammer - tha's the Blacktalon' boss - tries to keep us in line bu' he ain' everywhere at once. Fights only last as long as the bosses ain' around, momen' they turn up though everyone simmers down. Those who don' stop are made an example." He says the last word with force, malice and implication that's easy to read into. "They let us brawl to blow off steam, but no' enough to really kill each other. At least not often."

[cigaw]

Melian Galanodel Eladrin Bladesinger AC: 13 (16) HP: 34/34 PP: 14 PIv: 17 PIs: 11 Conditions: Mage Armor (8h) Concentrating: -- Still kneeling before the map, Melian scratches her chin while lost in thought. "Loog, can you give us the basics on the leaders and who or what they're responsible for? Also, what do the ogres guard and who commands them?"

[Amnestic]

"Yeah, sure." With his hands bound he can't do much in the way of scratching in the dirt but he toes a few lines with the tip of his boots. "Top of the pile you got Tazok. e's 'an ogre, but don' think 'e's dumb. You don' get to run two bandit groups without brains'n'brawn both." He scratches four lines, three relatively close to each other, the fourth off to one side. He gestures to two of the 'together' ones. "Then you've go' Crush and Britik. They lead the hobgoblins and gnolls. Crush's an archer, Britik's go' a big spear or glaive." He points to the third 'close' line. "Tenhammer's our boss. Man's killed more people than all the Blacktalons put together, all with that big maul o'his." Finally he points to the final line. "Las' 'leader' is Venkt. He ain' really a Blacktalon or a Chill, some mercenary mage Tazok hired." Loog spits off to one side, distaste clear. "e's got Tazok's support so we can' touch him, but 'e thinks he can order us about like e's our boss. Him and Tenhammer don' really get on. Venkt's in charge of the prisoners too, sometimes he takes 'em away and they don't come back."

"Ogres are direct under Tazok guardin' the altar and loot pile. Dunno what god its to, didn't ask 'cos I like keeping my tongue in my head. They ain' Chill or Blacktalon neither, but they don' try to order us about. So long as we keep our distance we got no beef. Only the bosses got any chance of gettin' past 'em."

[Spore]

Senna Human Arcana Cleric AC: 18 HP: 33/33 PP: 17 PIv: 12 PIs: 17 Conditions: - Concentration: - Senna stares at Vala in disbelief. Oh gods, I am sorry. I forgot. So while our attention should focus on the leaders, the actual bandit groups are the issue here. They sway a fair fight towards the enemy. And considering their tone with Mulahey, I feel the leaders are one or two notches more important than the necromancer. Senna thinks. Have you seen any of them cast magic, or heard of it? Anything could help us gauge their relative dominion over the arcane or divine. I get you are no scholar, Loog, but you could know if a spell makes the air smell funny or can actually kill you.

[Amnestic]

"Venkt's the only caster I know of, but dunno about what the Chill can do, we don' work together so dunno what they can do. Us 'talons don' really go in for magic, just bow and blade." He gives a noticeable shrug. "Not like they let me in on who does what."

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam Half-Dragon Warlock | Imp Familiar AC: 12 HP: 39/39 | AC: 13 HP: 10/10 PP: 10|14 PIv: 15|10 PIs: 11|13 Conditions: --- | -- Swallowing nervously, Sam looks over the map while he listens to Loog's explanations. Neither gnolls or hobgoblins sound very promising, especially after his last run in with gnolls. "So um, what duties and jobs and stuff are we probably going to be expected to do?" he asks. "I like Melian's idea to take out the fortifications with their own catapult," Grepha comments to no one in particular, still looking over the map. "I can cut some things on the ballistae when the time comes."

[Amnestic]

"Depends what they need you for." His answer is thoughtful as he appraises the group once more. "They're big on making use of whatever skills you got, s'why they send me hunting for food. If they find ou' wha' you did to those trolls could give you special missions, might send you on shakedowns. Tazok wants some prime game as pets, might send you to do that, fighting werewolves ain' really something most of us are good for. Put short, bosses will wanna know what you can do, and set you to stuff that matches it. Since ya don' really look like 'bandits' per se they migh' even send ya to buy supplies."

"That'd be a laugh. Come all this way only for them to send us to buy food in town." Vala remarks offhand, though she doesn't seem to actually find it that funny.

[Spore]

Senna Human Arcana Cleric AC: 18 HP: 33/33 PP: 17 PIv: 12 PIs: 17 Conditions: - Concentration: - Okay, I got a problem then. Different clerics don't mesh well at all, if their portfolios don't at least overlap. Each of us can pose as something less conspicious, so how about I go in as a medic. She pulls out her old crossbow. Well crossbow woman and medic. she says as she removes her tabard and rummages in her big leather case, pushing the magical bells to the bottom while pulling the healer's kit and spell components that could pose as medical items to the top. Ready to patch up those ingrates. she says in a horribly bad "gruff voice". Senna was not the most rugged personality, but anyone who was patched up by her knows she is a proper medic, with the fitting discontent for stupid behaviour.

[purepolarpanzer]

Caelyn Syol'arael Wood Elf Druid AC: 15 HP: 39/39 PP: 17 PIv: 10 PIs: 17 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: I suppose the first thing we need to worry about is the initiation. I think that first bandit we met said they beat people into the gang. Caelee takes a deep breath and straps her story staff to the side of her pack. She begins burying most of her magic items and curios at the bottom of her bag, following Senna's suit. Once she was finished, she slid her scimitar's sheath to a more prominent position on her belt, slotted her wand into a special holster she'd made, and stood. Alright. I'm ready to pretend to be a bandit now.

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam Half-Dragon Warlock | Imp Familiar AC: 12 HP: 39/39 | AC: 13 HP: 10/10 PP: 10|14 PIv: 15|10 PIs: 11|13 Conditions: --- | -- "Heh, only the Chill. Lucky me," Sam corrects Caelyn, with a nervous shrug, palms turned upwards helplessly. As his sisters adjust their outfits to look more rough and tumble, he looks down at himself. His appearance is already quite unkempt and disorganized, his only saving grace being the inability to sweat. "If I may..." Grepha offers telepathically, waiting for Sam's not of confirmation. At his okay, she suggests, "Having access to their food could be advantageous. Slipping some sedatives into new supplies just before the Fist arrive would leave them tired, hindered in a fight."

[Amnestic]

With your plan set and preparations to cover the more obvious tells that you might not be bandits in place, Loog leads you onto the road (now unburdened by his restraints) and towards the camp's east-south-east entrance, possibly because it's the one guarded by Blacktalons rather than Chill, along with it being the closest. It's only twenty minutes on the road and you're undisturbed on the path. As you get closer, within calling distance, both guards train their crossbows on you, and one calls out. "Loog! Where's the others? Who're these?" There's a breath, a heartbeat, as Loog seems to be weighing his options. A lick of his dry lips as he makes a decision. "Trolls got 'em," He replies back, after the pregnant pause in the air ends. Even far off you can see one of the guards tut. Annoyed, but not particularly upset. "These 'uns saved my hide, said they wanted to join up, heard we were makin' bags o'coin." "Be nice if we ever saw any of it!" The guard calls back sardonically, before gesturing to his fellow who lowers the crossbow and disappears further into the camp. Loog nods to you as the calling guard also lowers his crossbow, allowing you to approach, weaving in between the stake defenses.

"Ye'll stay out 'ere while Tenhammer comes up. He'll decide if you get t-" "What's all this then?" A slimy, serpentine voice pipes up and an impossibly thin looking man appears from around the pallisade wall. His straight, greasy black hair is pulled tight into a high ponytail, stretching the already thin, oily skin on his face. His true build is masked behind robes, but going off his bony hands and wrists he's little more than flesh and bones, barely any muscle, zero fat. Cold eyes look out from behind thin eyelids, appraising you. "Four hunters set out and one returns. Tsk tsk tsk. No good, no good at all." Long, sharp nails on his fingers clack together. He brings on up to rest his chin in mock thought. "They wish to join the camp, I say they prove themselves." He draws a dagger from his belt, jeweled and pulsing with visible magic, waving it back and forth idly, making sure all your eyes are on it. "They look a bit softhearted to me." He tosses the dagger out, letting it drop into the churned, baked dirt between Loog and Vala. "If you want to join, kill Loog." "What!? Why!?" The shout is immediate and he steps away from the dagger. Vala looks down at it, then up to Loog, but doesn't move. "You needed saving. You're weak, useless to us. I think-"

"I think that's enough." Another voice enters the fray, and two figures appear behind the bony man. One, the guard from before. The other is the polar opposite in physicality from the bony-man-presumed-spellcaster. Tall, muscular, with a healthy tanned complexion from sun exposure, probably in his mid 30s. He's decked in full plate mail with an enormous maul slung across his back, probably heavier than any of you if it's solid metal. The armour is clean, though its glimmer in the sun is covered up by a cloth poncho. A sprout of blonde hair shoots up from a bandage tied around his forehead that's stained with a touch of dried blood. His voice is deep, with gravitas and command reverberating through it. "Last I checked I still lead the Blacktalons, not you Venkt, and I don't think we have enough people that we can have them killed for your amusement. Loog, get inside. I'll take your report later." Venkt tuts, glares at the armoured man, but says nothing and slinks out of sight. Loog gives a quick "Yes boss," and follows. Vala finally bends down and picks up the dagger. You're left with the armoured man and the two gate guards, both of which are still holding their crossbows.

"We don't have room for the dead, but we don't have room for dead weight either. I am Tenhammer, the Blacktalons boss. Why do you want to join and why should I take you in? Speak clearly, quickly, and concisely. I don't like my time wasted."

Spoiler: OOC

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On Grepha's poison/sedative suggestion, here's some nature DCs for "plants that might grow nearby that might be useful". If you've also got herbalism kit proficiency you'll get advantage on the roll.

Spoiler: DC1

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Grass is bad for your teeth, we can wear them down so they die of hunger.

Spoiler: DC5

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Valerian root and lavender both can be brewed into sleep aids, though their taste is usually quite obvious (pungently bitter) and the effects are more to help people to sleep than to force it.

Spoiler: DC12

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Hibiscus seeds, properly prepared, are a natural, tasteless, odorless diuretic that can be added to any dish. In large enough doses this provokes powerful reactions in the digestion which will almost certainly hinder their ability to fight.

Weeping Death flowers have been spotted in the area in the past. These flowers can grow in any climate but only bloom once every 7 years. When an oil made from their petals is ingested or applied to skin, this magical flower causes the afflicted to burst into hysterical tears, unable to control their emotions. The only known way to end the effect is either a remove curse spell, confessing all of your regrets and shames aloud, or death. More than one person has chosen to cry themselves to death rather than confess the darkness in their heart.

Spoiler: DC19

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Foreverdream trees are known to bloom this time of year. Those who inhale or ingest the spores of one (which release at dusk every day during their blooming season) are known to fall into a wonderfully pleasant dream that can only be ended with restoration magic. The spores don't spread far, and usually only afflict those directly underneath the boughs when they burst. Those who aren't cured inevitably sleep to death, though this can be staved off by forcefeeding food and water to the dreamer. Foreverdream trees can be spotted by their unique crescent moon shaped leaves.

[Spore]

Senna Human Arcana Cleric AC: 18 HP: 33/33 PP: 17 PIv: 12 PIs: 17 Conditions: - Concentration: - Senna looks the wizard dead in the eye as he drops the dagger. She gives Loog a glimpse, short enough to let him know his service was no longer needed, but long enough to communicate to him she was seriously considering the emaciated wizard's request. This was also enough distraction as not to retreat in fear from Tenhammer, a veritable colossus of a human. He was taller than Minsc, and a lot fiercer than any gnoll or hobgoblin she met. If the butch Rashemi was a surprise to her, this was like a slap in the face of still innocent Senna. A slap she needed to wake her up again from the stupor. Truth be told, we are kinda done with doing crap for poor farmers. Started off helping, didn't pay enough. Started demanding money, but one struggles to take from people who have nothing. Figured we join the pros. But make no mistake. We have particular skills, and thus we want an opportunity for a leadership position. If you are looking for stupid grunts, look again. Senna says with a grim expression as she is reminded of the necromancer Mulahey also in league with them. She takes all her gumption and looks Tenhammer dead in the eye, although from a safe ten feet apart. We will not start as conscripts. Have I made myself clear? Her grip around her belt tightens as she tries to subdue her shaking and ignore her cold sweat of fear. Spoiler Show Charisma check: 17.

[RandomWombat]

Cheerful Sam Half-Dragon Warlock | Imp Familiar AC: 12 HP: 39/39 | AC: 13 HP: 10/10 PP: 10|14 PIv: 15|10 PIs: 11|13 Conditions: --- | -- On the Way Taking advantage of her momentary permission to speak freely, Grepha shares her suggestion for how to poison the bandits. "There is a flower in this area called the Weeping Death. Their oil is a terrifying, cursed little drug. It causes one to weep uncontrollably until the curse is lifted, they confess all of their deepest shames, or they expire." "Er, the slaves probably eat the same food. Maybe something less potentially lethal. We could use valerian and lavender to induce drowsiness... those aren't very potent though," crossing his arms, Sam thinks it over a bit more. "Oh! The Foreverdream tree can put someone to sleep peacefully until they're woken up with healing magic. It doesn't kill them, really, unless you don't feed or water them! Those spores might be hazardous to gather though, if we get affected." "Hm. Well, hibiscus seeds could be less risky. Undetectable, and they are a powerful diuretic and a passable laxative," the little imp both chuckles and cringes at the thought. "What if we ask the dryad for help gathering the tree spores?" Sam suggests. "I'm sure a sleep tree can't put a tree to sleep. Right?" On Arrival By this time, Grepha has gone off to contact the Flaming Fist, after giving Samuel some advice no how to play the part. Sam remains casual and follows along up until the wretched old mage shows up. His eyes settle on the dagger and he does his best not to let the cold dread in the pit of his stomach from showing on his face. The inability to break into a cold sweat helps... and even if he could, the sweat from the day's heat would surely have masked the tell. Thankfully, his racing thoughts plotting out an excuse are cut off by the bandit captain, who sounds much more... reasonable. By comparison. Contrasting the bold, stand-offish attitude Senna is putting on, Sam places an easy smile on his face and picks up where she left off in a friendlier tone. "I'm guessing the bone-thin guy is some creepy mage you put up with for his magic, right? He's certainly not winning any arm wrestling contests," the dragonborn winks and holds up a hand, waggling his fingers. They flicker with crackling green energy, arcing between them. "It just so happens our particular skills might make you less reliant on old Bones there." Spoiler: Rolls Show Persuasion: (1d20+4)[18] If someone wants to Help: (1d20+4)[22]

[purepolarpanzer]

Caelyn Syol'arael Wood Elf Druid AC: 15 HP: 39/39 PP: 17 PIv: 10 PIs: 17 Conditions: -- Concentrating on: On the Way If Senna and I work together we could harvest the spores, given time and a long rope. I imagine the Fist has access to people who can clear up the...effects. Caelee stops to ponder for a moment if what she was suggesting was moral. But it was a fleeting moment. It would be expedient if it worked. I say we gather what we can readily find and use the best possible for sabotage. And that is coming from the girl who's going to do most of the work. Deciding now is short sighted. Caelee spends the rest of the walk in silence, mussing her hair and feeling her nerves and fears mount. On Arrival She forced herself not to freeze, combating the fear of their secrets being revealed with haste. She moved to stand next to Sam and drew up her new staff, it's massive crack pointed vaguely in the direction of the robed man who'd almost made them murder a man. Flames began to run down from the old oak like water, flickering out of existence just before they touch the grass. I feel our talents can aid your cause, much as he said. She gestures to Sam, then assumes a position behind her brother. She managed not to swallow. "We all need coin, don't we?" She tapped her staff, cut off the flow of magic, and let the last of the flames fall like autumn leaves before flickering out.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Giving advantage to Sam. Go get em buddy!