A Nation Is Born (Inactive)
Game Master Ryuko

"We could try to disguise ourselves as bandits, and see if that password works. It might get us past the doors so to speak?"

Kastus scratches his head a bit, thinking the matter over. [b]"I think first we should probably bring all this loot back to the Trading Post. Oleg is the only one around here who would give us fair and legal coin for it. And before anyone wants to suggest returning it, think on how long and arduous a task that would be." Kastus looks at the party, gauging reactions.

Raxus seems uninterested in the discussion of the equipment. He feeds his dogs, lays down a blanket and props himself up against a tree, listening with half an ear.

I do like your plan Kastus. I need a day's rest to replenish mymagic anyway. I am ready to leave when you all are.

Having collected his things he looked quite a sight. A wizard carrying a sword. Not even able to properly use it.
Kastus, also if you don't mind. I was recieving some instruction in the fighters arts and horsemanship before I journeyed out here. I wonder if I could purchase some instruction off you. I am greatly interested in learning a little of your craft.

"Very well, Kastus. You have a point about returning the goods to original owners. The bandit here should come with us, of course, until we can find the best non lethal way to punish him."

How about being an indentured servant to a pioneer out here? If we could find someone willing to take him. No need to decide now. Just a thought.

"It's a good option to consider."

Possibly. Shall we be off?
Arrgh! We are really slowing...

"I have no want to nursemaid the man who would have killed me. If you want to feed him and watch him until we find someone dumb enough to take him in, fine. I want no part of it."

"I suppose that leaves him to me then, at least for awhile." Bydar sighs and looks around, "Does anyone else need healing?"

Raxus is still obviously quite wounded, but he says nothing.

I am fine, but our giant friend looks quite beaten. He could surely do with your goddesses favor. Once that's done let's get on shall we?

Where to?

I thought we were heading.to the outpost...

He nods and touches the giant's shoulder gently. He prays softly once more

another cure light. And I think we were all agreed to take it to the trading post.

1d8 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7

Raxus grunts and again the bird of Shelyn alights on his chest. He looks down at it for a moment and smiles.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, I just wish I'd been better use in the fight," the cleric admits.

"None of us died. All of them did. We fought well. You are a part of we." the big man rumbled as if what he was saying was self-evident.

Yes. You saved my life.

Bydar blushes at the praise, "Many thanks." he looks to the bandit to make sure he isn't trying anything. "Let's get this fellow to the outpost. Maybe we'll find more information or even allies there as well as the good prices for these goods."

Yes. Finally. And a nights rest will be in order after the day we've had.

You cross the area between yourselves and Oleg's outpost without incident, arriving very late. Oleg and Svetlana both throw open the doors for you and offer you to sit in their hall, offering you some of the venison soup Svetlana has made as Oleg sits and asks, "So tell us a story boys. Are those bandits gone?"

All but the one we dragged back with us, yes.
Deacon, having very briefly stopped here for supplies, dips a bow at the 2, grateful to have returned. In truth, he had not expected to survive before his new companions arrived.

Bydar keeps a watch over the latest prisoner, and nods, "It is as Deacon says. The battle was fierce. We came across a strong encampment and aided each other against them. This fellow seeks redemption... is Devlin about? I'd like the boy's opinion on the matter given his own path."

Alexei is content in staying in the background, only stepping inside the post when everyone else enters.

Ma'am, is there any chance I could get a bucket of water to clean myself?

Seeing as his presence was noted, Alexei feels the need to weigh in the conversation.

It... was a mighty battle indeed, my lord. The enemies were plentiful, entrenched in their camp. They had prior knowledge of the field and dominance of the geography, but they couldn't resist the giant's strenght and our superior fighting skills. The spirits of our ancestors are pleased with the outcome of this battle, I can assure you.

"The Giant" says nothing. Uncomfortable inside human dwellings, he finds a tree to lean up against and sits down to give his dogs some attention while the others make their report.

Dotting so I can find the bloody thread, in future.

The night goes by quite well, full of merriment and joy at the victory over the bandits. The next day brings an unexpected sight. Eight people stand outside the walls, 5 of them in the dress of the Rostland Guard, obviously the guard company Oleg has been waiting on, with the insignia of a Red Eagle displayed on their shoulders. The other three are a bit more mismatched.

Newcomers describe your characters and how you came to acquire your charters.

Standing on the balcony, Deacon ran an appraising eye over the group.
It seems your saviors have arrived, Oleg

A half-orc who keeps his facial features mostly hidden. Not because people treat him differently as those in Restov were quite accepting of his kind. It was more because he could hide what his eyes might betray to others. He reads the wisdom of a soul through anothers eyes and is conscious of revealing his soul to others. He is not the most charismatic or overly intelligent being, he put that down to growing up in the wilderness. He is 6ft tall, built for speed and dexterity with good muscle tone. He has on the run of the mill explorer's garb. He has a longbow at his side and a quiver chocked full of arrows with purple fletchings on his back. A Greataxe is also slung over his back, tied with a weapon cord.

Oh how Korgun hates this banter but knows it is the way of cities and towns. "I am Korgun. I was raised in the Stolen Lands, but I am no criminal. I rise against the roughs and love killing the bastards. My knowledge of the land is known in Restov and I was called to receive this charge when last I stepped foot within." He then sinks back into his cloak and hood allowing the next to speak.

The small fellow walks briskly ahead of the pack, a sturdy blackthorn walking stick drumming along the ground with each long stride. The gnome has seemed to enjoy every step of the journey, taking in each old oak tree or ancient hill as if it were some marvelous new sight. He's chattered idly throughout the journey, but his companions are quick to note that he's revealed next to nothing about himself. As they reach the outpost, the gnome stops to take a deep whiff of the country air and, apparently invigorated, makes his way through the gates.

A pair of inquisitve green eyes and ruddy, heavily lined features emerge from under thick, bushy eyebrows and a mass of tangled white hair. As Oleg and Svetlana come to greet him, the small fellow bows so low that his impressive moustache nearly brushes the ground, before springing upright again, incredibly spry for one so old. "Bastagar Swiftthicket, at your service." he croaks, merrily.

The gnome is dressed unassumingly, in the garb of a Rostland sharecropper; a thick linen work shirt rolled up to his elbows and sturdy woolen breeches. A rather-blunt looking sickle is tucked into his belt, and a large backpack looks like to bowl him over any second. Bastagar will say no more about himself unless pressed, standing and twirling his moustache with his gnarled, calloused fingers and staring down the road. Now that he arrives, he almost looks ready to take off again.

The massive warrior looks at the tiny man with a mixture of surprise, confusion and wonder. He blinks, and then blinks again, harder, as if he isn't quite sure he believes his eyes.

A young man goes down the battlements to greet the newcomers. He seems distracted for a couple seconds as he turns his head and appears to hear something in the wind. Blinking his eyes back to the situation at hand, he bows clumsily back to the gnome.

My name is Alexei, Alexei Yoren, from from Restov.

He wears simple pants obviously cut out for a bigger man and a simple linen shirt so loose that it sways in the wind. His black hair is tossed by the wind, and his feet rest directly on the grass without shoes. Although his figure is slender and skinny, the keen eye of a men-at-arms may notice his balance is firm and his moves smooth, traits known to experient swordsmen.

He has just bought those clothes from the Trading Post. Peasant's outfit for 1 SP.

Bydar also greets the newcomers, though he keeps one eye on the bandit they brought in, "Bydar Lebeda, priest of Shelyn, thank you for coming. These lands are sorely in need of aid."

Korgun had enjoyed the travel to the outpost. Leading his blind pack horse, the beast to which he had bonded with over the last three and a bit years. The gnome, Bastagar had been a great companion on the trip and he would daresay be a good addition to almost any road caravan. None would know it but he smiled often at the gnomes manner and even stifled a chuckle or two. Maybe it was the fact he had little to do with gnomes at all and the very fact one was evident before him confounded his senses. Anyway, he hides the fact for now that this miniature companion was good for his soul.

As for the Rostland guard, they kept to themselves mostly, so in kind, Korgun didn't give them much in return. As was the way of the road.

Marvelous. Now that we're all friends, shall we head inside and discuss our bandit friend. With your arrival you should be bought up to speed. It seems we have a stag to put down.

The gnome takes a few long, sweeping steps towards the giant, looking up, up, up with a wide-eyed wonder. He extends a hand to shake, at such a height that Raxus has to stoop slightly to grasp it. "Now you are a sight I have never seen before."

He cheerily greets the rest of the party, following Deacon inside, leaving his pack and walking stick by the door. He'll rustle up into the tallest chair he can find, swing his feet up, and pull an ornate, gold smoking pipe out of his belt and take a few puffs.

Yes. Raxus makes quite an impression, doesn't he. You should see him swing a tree trunk.

"Ah, we have already missed a hunt? A shame. I would hear what happened and about this Stag that need's to be put down. Nothing gains my interest more than potential quarry."

Korgun had much the same impression of Raxus as Bastagar without the need to look up so much. Nevertheless he was impressed at the immense size of the man. "I find much relief that we are on the same mission giant one. For you truly are an intimidating sight as you are let alone wielding a tree trunk!"

Raxus slowly shook the tiny man's hand, unable to keep his questions unvoiced. "What... are you?" he asked the one called Bastagar.

Ahh, it seems you haven't had the honor of meeting a Gnome, Raxus.
Well, your in for an experience. Wonderful creatures, Gnomes. I'd take care lest he.attempt to ride one of your hounds into battle. Quite a sight though.

Addressing the group, Brydar, your tongue would provoke more.capable than mine to explain, since a.great deal of my bandit experience was spent with my head in a burlap.sack.

"A traveller, of sorts." the Gnome says, ambiguously, smiling up at the giant. "And you... you would have giant's blood. Am I wrong?" The gnome begins nodding at Deacon's assessment, though suddenly looks perplexed. "Into battle...?" the gnome mouths, adopting the face that all gnomes don when faced with new information. His eyes go wide with wonder, his lips pursed in rapid thought. Assess it. Marvel at it. File it away. "... nah." he says, somewhat anticlimactically, as he makes his way through the door. "That's silly."

The gnome is quiet through much of the exchange, only speaking unless spoken to, and seeming preoccupied with his pipe. "A hunt!" the gnome says, eyes lighting up as Korgun speaks. "I've never hunted a stag, before. In fact, I've never been hunting in my life!" he says, perking up and nearly dropping his pipe. "Unless you count linnorm. I must confess I've never been entirely sure..." he says, patting out a stray ember nestled on his shirtsleeve.

"I am no bard, but to be brief as one can while still telling details..." Bydar explains "Commissioned to explore the stolen lands and help quell banditry others and I came to Oleg's as a stop over, not realizing that bandits had already struck this outpost again and again in demands for tribute. Oleg and his lovely wife were quite hopeful that we were guards sent as this good fellows were..." He nods to the Rostlanders "while we were not quite what they hoped, we took on the task and slew the next batch of intruders. From there, we continued to hunt out for more bandits...which is where we found some good folks tied up to a tree. It was hectic, but we were victorious again thanks to their help. Even THAT was not the head of the proverbial serpent. It would seem that the actual leader of the bandits has dubbed himself 'The Stag Lord'. we've gathered some information on him, but not much. He is further out still and no doubt better defended."

He glances to the guards "This new prisoner is a former bandit, and he regrets his actions. As he has recanted his actions and life, AND given us some information of value: there is no need for his execution. He can either join those returning north to face imprisonment, or face some other lesser punishment here."

Bastagar's mouth opens wide with realization. "Ah, hunting bandits!" the gnome says, pensively. "A little bloodier, but perhaps better sport. I've still got an arrow-wound from the last time I ran afoul of them." he smiles, gingerly touching his shoulder. "But I'm sure we've heard enough about me. I'm happy to help in any way I can, provided we get to travel deeper into the Stolen Lands."

He stops, taking a long drag from his pipe. "And if we make these woods safer, all the better!"

Bydar nods to the gnome, even as he looks to the fellow's shoulder "I can tend that if need be? And yes, before we are through we'll be going deeper still. The stag lord may now be a priority, but there's much to see even without him."

"Worry not, my friend." he says, revealing a faded, lumpy scar with his free hand. "It's long since crusted over."

Bastagar will relax into his chair and blow an elaborate smoke ring, set about by dancing lights. which fade as quickly as the puff of smoke. "You fine fellows must be tired. Perhaps we can set out tommorow? If there's work to be done around the Trading Post I'll happily do my part."

"I personally am Corporal Kesten Garess, leader of the 52nd Guard Company, The Red Hawks." Each of the gloomy looking man's men salute at the name with precision. "Here to deliver a message and hold Oleg's Trading Post against the bandit threat. Sergeant Aletta, if you would." The second-in-command, a pretty half-elven woman, steps forward and hands Kastus an envelope. He opens it and skims the parchment inside with a worrying frown.

"I'm sorry my new friends. This is from my family. I must return home. It would seem my home village has begun raiding Issian villages on the border. And my father has fallen too ill to make sure they stay in line. I will return if I can get this sorted out." Kastus makes a quick round of goodbyes before departing in a rush.

"My men and I will set up in the courtyard if you do not mind." Corporal Garess asks Oleg, and at his nod immediately begins ordering his men with barking voice to set up tents and other parts of camp.

Svetlana smiles at the newcomers and offers "If you're here to help stop the bandits you're free to room and board here for free until you manage it. You'll be less of a burden than those bandits taking all of our money." Oleg looks a bit troubled by this until his wife flashes him an extremely stern look, at which point he sighs in mock exasperation (while hiding a smile) and says "Aye, feel free to stay in the bunkhouse when you need a rest."

Assuming the Outpost's gates face north

within 10 minutes of Kastus's departure

You see a Woman of about 6 foot 6 enter through the gates.
She has inherited comely features and a muscular yet buxom and curvy build with pale skin,
But her face is beautiful with Platinum eyes and braided Golden Blonde Hair that ends near her waist.

she is wearing Brown pants, a chain shirt and wears cestus on both her hands.

GM I don't mind if have either Oleg or Svetlana refer to her by one of her nicknames as she enters

"Wow, this place is more lively than when I last was here."

I'll be away from the computer 13:00 EST til 20:00 EST

Bydar raises a brow as the tall yet lovely woman strides in, "Pardon, but something is finally being done about the stolen lands, the exploration of it, and to quell the banditry. Oleg's station maybe a bit crowded for a time though at least a few of us will be taking up to the road and our mission soon."