"W-What are you doing? the elf managed to yell as the agile warrior charged ahead, with sword in hand, to meet his foe. Or his bloody end! he thought. And so his fears were confirmed as the human fell in battle. Alive of dead, no way of knowing from that distance.
Hylaen had no idea what crossed the mind of Viklop. For the nervous elf, that kind of foolhardy behavior was close to insanity. A retreat was looking more appealing by the second, but not until he could at least confirm if Viklop was dead.
The alchemist went ahead and was forced to hide again, looking for protection against the enemies' arrows. As much as Hylaen wished he could rush to his fallen companion, repeating the same act that got him on the ground wouldn't help. On times like these, careful planning is more crucial than ever. First, clear the way.
Aiming for the man that were blocking the path to the fallen warrior, Hylaen threw another of his bombs.
Tegan, having a max range of 25 feet when casting spells, holds her ground for a lingering moment. It was only a couple of seconds, but with the pain wracking her shoulder it felt much longer. The arrow was lodged in the same shoulder as the previous battle but this arrow had arrived at the seam, causing her sleeve to take on a ripped appearance. Tegan’s blood makes new trails over the dried pools from the day before. A crimson droplet starts to run down her arm.
Clenching her (pearly-white and perfectly straight teeth) through the pain, Tegan thinks of what will happen if they don’t win this fight. She visualizes the bandit leader mocking their dead bodies while the others bandits cheer. She imagines the fate of Oleg and Svetlana - a stubborn couple that would rather be tormented by bandits than give up on their dreams. Tegan feels both anger and determination, causing a small flurry of snowflakes to swirl around her, caressing her gently. A second later, the snowflakes burst forth towards the closest enemy.
”Do you want to know how we found you?” Tegan calls out over the sound of the blast of frosty air.
Tegan doesn’t wait for a response. She backs up to stand behind Damiel. With the particular angle the arrow hit, Tegan is in too much pain to hold onto her two-handed weapon. The longspear drops uselessly to the ground - possibly causing an unintentional tripping hazard - as Tegan steps back. She clutches her injured arm, inadvertently smearing her own blood down her upper arm. The blood drastically contrasts Tegan's porcelain complexion.
Tears sting Djebelle's eyes as she watches the foolhardy swordsman fall. If she had come up with a better plan - if she'd made sure he'd stayed in reach - if she'd made the effort to catch up with him... as it is, all she can do is pray that he doesn't die before she gets there.
In the meantime, both she and Tegan are hurt. Retrieving her scimitar, she moves to place herself in front of Tegan and Damiel, before praying to Sarenrae for more healing.
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More blasts of ice, bombs and arrows rain down upon the enemies. Hylaen doesn’t aim properly, but the explosion is enough to hurt everyone in the area where the bomb fell. Tegan once more demonstrate her power, summoning a destructive blast of frost, with finish up one of the already injured bandits and then, Rendyl shoots a deadly arrow that hits the other bandit on the face leaving nothing more than a gruesome and grey matter splattered all over. Damiel also move forward joining his companions in the fight against the bandits.
Round 5-
Ordered Initiative-
Djbelle: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25
Enemies: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19
Damiel: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16
Hylaen: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16
Rendyl: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15
Tegan: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
Viklop: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13
Active Effects-
Map-
Notes-
Action-
Djebelle also moves forward, to protect the remaining of her allies, trusting that her magic enhanced equipment will be able to prevent any damage to her.
Kressle moves out, hiding behind one of the tree trunks as she calls out ”Your friend is still alive. If you value his life, surrender now! Else he’s dead meat!” she yells from her safe.
She has no clue if Viklop is alive or dead.
The other bandits take aim with their bow, preparing to attack the charters, while one of them moves closer to Viklop and place a short sword at the man’s neck, ready to strike if the band of heroes doesn’t comply with Kressle demands.
"And you will kill us and him or make us slaves anyway" replies Damiel to Kressle, as he moves up, and commands the one bandit standing over Vik, "run away", while thinking, Florin, master, please let this work.
The bandit looks startled at Damiel, he looks behind, considering what to do, then he seems to wake up from the haze that tried to cloud his mind. He hisses angrily preparing to stab Viklop.
Seeing that the charters had no intention of giving up, the bandits that had prepared to attack, shoot their arrows, targeting Damiel and Djebelle.
"Shit, kill them!"
But their aim, as usual is bad, and they offer no real danger the party.
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It all hung in the balance right here. The life of the valiant, foolhardy Vik rested in the ranger's hands. He doubted any of the others could reach the bandit poised over the swordlord in time. All his training, his years traveling, honing his craft, down to one, perhaps two arrows. While he'd spent his adult years aiming to bring about the demise of the scaled folk who had killed his family, this situation was no less poignant. A life was the stakes in this deadly game. He brings his bow up, lining up the bandit standing over Vik. Breathe in. He pulled the string back, arrow nocked. Hold. A slight adjustment to the trajectory. Exhale. Rendyl slowly released his held breath, releasing the taut string. Before the first arrow finished its deadly arc a second was on the way.
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Tegan moves forward again, intent on trying to prevent the coup de grace. She's terrified, but knows she'd never forgive herself if she resolves to just watch her companion die. She decides to double her energy
The beautiful elementalist moves quickly to get just within range of the threatening bandit. She nurses her injury, but frosty wind still snakes around her in a wintry embrace. As she approaches, instead of delicate snowflakes, there are small jagged points of ice crystals forming near her extremities. The crystals are a sign of a different spell.
The *ice* crystals form an impressive blast towards the bandit. Perhaps due to lucky dice rolls, even small trail of jagged ice crystals juts up from the ground connecting the distance between Tegan and her target, an aftershock of Tegan's spell. The most substantial part of Tegan's spell manifests itself at the base of the bandit's feet and rises up to hinder his movement. Sharp point of ice glitter menacingly towards the sky, warning the target not to move.
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Rendyl mocks his arrow remembering his training. Focusing his target, he knows that Viklop’s life depends on him, and any mishap means the swordlord’s life will end. Time seems to freeze on those precious moments before the arrow flies away, but Rendyl already knew he’d hit his target and saved the man’s life. Without wasting any more time, she hoots another arrow towards the leader of the bandits, the woman named Kressle, and even tacking refuge behind the tree didn’t help her avoid the second arrow shot by the ranger.
Embracing the frost, the pain and the fury Tegan also moves forward and a concentrated explosion of ice crystals alto target the leader of the bandits, it’s such a demonstration of power that one would only imagine if Kressle could survive such attack. And about Kressle, first there’s the arrow, then there’s the ice explosion. She doesn’t have time even to yells in pain, as darkness embraces the woman.
Djebelle then moves forward, offering once more to spare their life if they surrender, but the remaining of the bandits, with their leader defeated, bolt away, trying to escape. Little they know that between Damiel’s mind magic, Rendyl deadly aim and Hylaen unstable bombs, they had little chance of getting away, being taken out before they could hide into the woods.
Treasure: The bandits’ spoils, kept hidden under less interesting supplies like food, firewood, and tents under the platform at area near the camp, currently include 321 sp, 90 gp, a pair of silver earrings worth 150 gp, a wooden music box worth 90 gp, three crates of furs and hides worth 50 gp per crate, and a polished wooden case of potent greenish herbal liquor. There are still eight bottles with liquor left in them, each worth 20 gp.
From the bandits, the total amount of loot gathered is the following:
- 12 leather armor
- 12 longbow
- 230 arrows
- 12 short sword
- 205gp
- 28 days of trail rations
- studded leather armor
- 2 masterwork handaxes
- 4 daggers
- 85 gp
- herbal potion (needs alchemy to identify)
Djebelle looks in awe at Rendyl, her eyes shining with admiration. "That was amazing! You just saved Vik's life with that shot."
Encumbered in her heavy armour, and weary beyond imagining, she is in no shape to give chase. She looks pleadingly at the others. "Please, don't kill them if they surrender."
Besides, she has work to do. She kneels beside Vik's prone form, fumbling for a pulse. Please, Goddess, please, please don't let him be dead... She blinks away tears of relief as she finds he is still - barely - breathing, and prays for healing.
For good measure, she uses her healing magic.
She breathes out in relief as Vik's eyes flutter open - before narrowing her own eyes and punching him on the shoulder (not his sword-arm). "That was really stupid! You could have died! This isn't a story, you know: the hero doesn't magically win with a dazzling smile and some fancy footwork. You were this close to getting your throat cut for good."
She looks away, so he won't see the tears streaming down her face. "Come on. Help me move these bodies."
There's no way they can bury this many, but heaping them in the wagon and burning it should be enough to dispose of the corpses.
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Vik slowly begins to come to his senses when he feels a jolt on his left arm. Still a little disoriented he opens his eyes to see the stern face of Djebelle above him. He begins to open his mouth to thank the priestess, but she beats him to it.
"That was really stupid! You could have died! This isn't a story, you know: the hero doesn't magically win with a dazzling smile and some fancy footwork. You were this close to getting your throat cut for good."
Stunned, he simply watches as she turns and walks away from him.
Come on. Help me move these bodies."
Slowly the swordsman gains his feet. He is still a little wobbly from his near death encounter, and it takes a moment or two for him to get his feet under him. He looks around and sees the slaughter that the others had wrought...without his help! He was suppose to be here to help the group...to protect them, and here he was the first to fall and was no help in this epic battle. Spotting his sword on the ground he makes to retrieve it, but stops.
Am I worthy to carry such a blade? he thinks as he stares at the weapon.In the end he undoes his scabbard and sheaths the sword and leans it up against a tree. He then silently goes to help move the dead bandits into their final resting place.
The ranger blushes at the priestess's praise, finding time for a quick smile. He thinks of several different responses, but she is gone before he can manage, off to check on Vik. It was for the best...there was work to be done.
Rendyl bounded off after the bandits, imploring them to throw down their arms and surrender. As the men refuse, he helps bring them down with Damiel and Hylaen, trying to shoot for legs and about the bandits' persons, showing them beyond a doubt their fate should they choose to continue fleeing.
--------------------
After helping to bind the remaining bandits tightly to ensure they won't escape easily, the ranger breathes hard after all the running in the scale armor he wore. He bent over, hands on his knees, regaining his breath for a few moments before helping the others pull the remaining bodies into the wagon. Images flash before the young man's eyes...seeing his mother's body ravaged by fire, but he banishes the thought as they finish their grim work.
As for the living bandits, especially the bandit leader Kressle, the ranger remains quiet. The woman likely had plenty of information about this Stag Lord, but some of his companions were better suited at fishing it out than he was.
As Rendyl takes off after the fleeing bandits, Damiel lets him go with a shout, "don't do anything foolish" and the perpetual scowl turns into a grin for a moment. He then goes over to Kressle and if he finds her alive, he will remove her weapons, and tie her up, very tightly. He then moves on to any other downed bandit, and ties up those that have not died.
Moving to help drag the dead to the wagon for burning, he speaks softly to Djebelle, "good work healing Viklop. Next time, please be careful with your healing of all around you. You could have healed some of the bandits to the point that they could have continued the fight."
Encumbered in her heavy armour, and weary beyond imagining, she is in no shape to give chase. She looks pleadingly at the others. "Please, don't kill them if they surrender."
With an arrow stuck in her shoulder and one of her companions on the ground, Tegan is all too eager to abide by Djebelle’s request. Tegan stays with Djebelle and Vik in case there are additional bandits hiding nearby. ”They’re quick to run once they’re leader falls,” Tegan notes. Her tone implies she’s making an observation rather than a judgement on the fleeing bandits. ”Maybe we should just target the leaders from now on.” Hopefully we won’t see bandits again, but that’s a naive wish.
Tegan takes to Vik’s side. ”That was a tough fight and they were clearly waiting for us.” Tegan casts a glance as Vik, ”You were brave. None of us wanted to be within melee range of those bandits.” Tegan regretfully thinks of her own limitations of her spells’ range. With that, Tegan moves over to Hylaen to request aid.
When the others return, Tegan approaches the alchemist. ”Hylaen, could you help me out again, please?” Tegan gestures to her arrow protruding from her shoulder looking embarrassed. It’s lodged in the same shoulder of all places, which makes Tegan’s cheeks redden. I can’t believe this happened again and so soon. Tegan sits patiently as the arrow is (presumably) removed and the spot patched up. Tegan stares down at her torn sleeve, knowing her dress will need a thorough scrubbing and at least a whip stitch. Her other sleeve might need to be taken in a tad to look more symmetrical after the fabric’s fixed. There goes my pretty puffed sleeves, Tegan wistfully sighs. Tegan doesn’t have many nice things to her name so she tries to take care of what little she has. Plus, fabric isn’t cheap and dresses aren’t made overnight.
Having left the majority of items on her horse, Tegan has no items to offer when the others tie up the bandits (if captured.) We should just kill the baandits instead of trying to tie them up. Hauling them to Oleg’s will take extra time and resources. Plus, we don’t even know if Lieutenant Garess will be there. And Oleg’s isn’t exactly a prison... Tegan crosses her arms while she observes her companions. Tegan attempts to approach the situation delicately: "What do you all want to do with captured bandits?" Please don't say take them back to Oleg's to be imprisoned. We're going to need the stables until all the horses are sold. Tegan thinks ahead in her mind but doesn't offer her opinions.
If the dead could complain, they might raise objections to what’s being done to their remains. Such questions as “Aren’t you the good guys? At least give us a decent funeral!” might have been asked, but since the dead can’t argue, the bodies were dragged and dumped into the already burnt and partially destroyed wagon.
Knowing that only the wagon wood wouldn’t be enough to lit the pyre, Viklop and Djebelle also gather wood from the nearby camp. It takes some minutes to finish all the body dragging and wood gathering around, but once you lit the pyre, the smoke and burnt flesh smell fills the entire area.
Of the bandits, one of them escaped while you were distracted trying to save Viklop’s life and you managed to capture four of them, including Kressle.
Kressle seems in really bad shape, and without medical attention, she might die at any moment. Even with medical attention, if no magic healing is supplied, she won’t be awakening in the next few days.
The other three bandits are quick to buck under pressure, but they don’t know anything that Vicar didn’t already new. The only piece of new information is that the liquor found was supposed to be sent to the Stag Lord, with the crates of furs and hides.
With the arrow removed from her shoulder, Tegan gently massages the area below the puncture. She doesn’t offer to help bury the dead, instead, she approaches the still living. ”You all,” Tegan addresses the captured bandits, ”If you answer my questions, we will go easy on you. I don’t want you to needlessly suffer.” Tegan speaks honestly, but doesn’t promise an opportunity at redemption. There isn’t time to babysit bandits; the party has too many other problems in the Stolen Lands. Besides, Djebelle already has a redemption guinea pig: Vicar Gaiallard - who has yet to prove himself.
”Tell me everything you know about the Stag Lord.” Tegan holds up the silver amulet, rudely constructed in the shape of a stag, for the bandits to see.
After hearing the prisoners response, Tegan asks: ”Where are the other bandits?”
Tegan holds up the silver earrings and music box found in the platform area near the camp. ”Who did you take these from? And what's this greenish herbal liquor that there is eight bottles of?” Tegan is interested in wearing the earrings but wants to make sure they weren't stolen off of an unlucky traveler.
Finally, Tegan questions: ”Where is the bandit who fled from Oleg’s Trading Post? He stole one of our horses.”
~*~*~*~
After interrogating the bandits, Tegan pulls her companions aside to make a group decision as to how they party should proceed.
Tegan knows the party has important decision to make regarding the bandits. With limited rations and a need to beat the other charter at improving the Stolen Lands, the party can’t afford to lose time due to indecision. ”I have a suggestion - although not all of you may like it.” Tegan pulls out the charter from her apron pocket and unfolds it. ”I think,” Tegan pauses to look at each of her companions, ”after interrogating the four captured bandits, we should offer them a swift death. Kressle, being their leader, should be tied up, slung over a horse, and taken to Oleg’s as a present to Lieutenant Garess. She’d be evidence of our progress and a valuable token towards proving our capabilities.” I’d like to know how the other charter is cleaning up the territory, Tegan wonders how the decision will actually be made.
Tegan waits to hear what her companions think.
Tegan splits the 28 days of trail rations equally into seven piles. Each party member receives four days of rations with a remainder of four that can go towards feeding their prisoner, Kressel.
Tegan offers to be the one to coup de grace their prisoners since she’s the one who interrogated them. If no objections are made, Tegan returns to the bound bandits and kills all of them – except Kressel. Tegan tries to block out the bandits' pleas as she unleashes the fury of the elements on each of them. She imagines a happier time, perhaps sometime in the future, where people can travel across the Stolen Lands unafraid of being mugged and murdered.
~*~*~*~
The bandits’ spoils, kept hidden under less interesting supplies like food, firewood, and tents under the platform at area near the camp, currently include 321 sp, 90 gp, a pair of silver earrings worth 150 gp, a wooden music box worth 90 gp, three crates of furs and hides worth 50 gp per crate, and a polished wooden case of potent greenish herbal liquor. There are still eight bottles with liquor left in them, each worth 20 gp
Tegan retrieves her longspear. She also picks up the pair of silver earrings and the wooden music box. ”I bet the crates of furs were taken from Oleg. I’m sure he’d be happy to get them back.”
Tegan suggests that the party retrieve their source of speedy transportation – their horses – before continuing their journey.
Since it *seems* to be on the way back, Tegan proposes the group head North with their spoils to pick up Moon Radishes on their way back to Oleg’s Trading Post.
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The ranger watches with a dark expression as the remains of the bandits burn in the wagon that was meant to be the party's own death. Conflicting emotions flit across his face...sadness, triumph, fear. This was a wild land, and success was never a guarantee. And who was to say that as they drew nearer the supposed source of the banditry in the area, this Stag Lord, and the stakes grew higher what depravities might this group result to to ensure a victory? As the smell of the boiling fat assaults his nose, the young man can stand his silent vigil no longer, offering a silent prayer to Erastil before wandering over to the prisoners.
The ranger stood impassively as his beautiful companion questioned the captured bandits, watching over the cowed men to make sure they remained on their best behavior. The lanky man is satisfied at the questions asked, and offers none of his own as the brief interrogation winds down. It looked like they would need to wait for this Kressle to wake before getting any pertinent information.
As the elementalist pulls the group aside and makes her pitch Rendyl shakes his head almost immediately. He responded in his deep, quiet voice, "Absolutely not. It is not that far back to Oleg's, and if we're going back with one, why not five? It could take quite some time to find Svetlana's radishes...if the choice is between Oleg's taste buds and the lives of these men then Oleg will have to suffer through a few more meals without his favorite dish, is my opinion."
The ranger crosses his arms, acutely aware that the lives of the four men are in peril at the moment. Rationally he knew they were likely evil men, the type to take what wasn't theirs and hurt or kill without inhibition. There was always the possibility that one or more could be redeemed, though...that a second chance at life after this near brush with an unceremonious end could be the wake up call for their soul that had been needed. Refusing to meet Tegan's eyes lest his disgust show, he looks pleadingly at the others instead.
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Tegan stares dumbfounded at Rendyl after his outburst. ”Oleg will have to suffer through a few more meals without his favorite dish,” She echoes the man's words in a hollow tone. Tegan gazes fixedly at the ranger for another moment before scowling, ”What's with your animosity towards Oleg? He's just an honest settler trying to follow his dreams! And he doesn't even know about the radishes! The radishes were Svetlana’s idea - and they're not even for her! She wants them to ease her husband’s stress - the husband she loves.” Tegan's heart throbs painfully. Tegan can't recall ever being loved. Has she ever been loved? Tegan runs a hand through her luxuriously thick black hair. ”Do you honestly believe the bandits stole from the innocent - or did anything, anything, during their banditry - for someone other than themselves?” A few snowflakes flutter around Tegan.
Tegan turns to take a few steps away from Rendyl before turning to approach him again. ”Okay. So let's think this through logically - because I value your opinion and I want to understand what rational you're coming from.” Tegan gazes fixedly into Rendyl’s eyes, refusing to look away or be intimidated by his height. The signs of frost have dissipated.
”Let’s say we take all the bandits back to the trading post. Where are they going to stay? The stables? Or are you planning to build the bandits some other structure to live in?” Tegan pauses, waiting for his response.
”If you do plan on keeping the bandits in the stables or nearby, you should consider Oleg and Svetlana’s situation: These bandits have terrorized Oleg and Svetlana. They've stolen, deterred visitors, and undoubtedly threatened the couple. You do realize how much Oleg and Svetlana have sacrificed to get this far right? They moved far, far away from their home and repeatedly lost their means of livelihood to thieves.” Tegan stands facing Rendyl with her arms crossed. At the moment, it's just the elementalist and ranger spurring heads.
”Here is another important consideration: how are you going to ensure the bandits don't act, well, like bandits? Are you going to mentor them while we try to eliminate their own banditry from the Stolen Lands? If you think the Stag Lord and his followers are just going to throw down their weapons, then you're a naive fool, Rendyl Millary. What happens if they're with us when we come across the Stag Lord? Don't you think they'll turn on us? Thieving is the life they're accustomed to.” Tegan raises a hand, palm flat towards the sky, ”Alternatively, you could leave the bandits at Oleg's or with the lieutenant but I highly doubt anyone is going to show the bandits the same patience as you do. They'll probably want to hang them which can take a lot longer than a beheading or an arrow through the brain.”
Tegan frowns, her pretty features align perfectly to show her skepticism: ”Since you're against killing them in favor of a chance at redemption, are you going to hold yourself accountable if they break the law again? What if they end up raping some poor girl or murdering a family just to steal their wagon? Are you going to be able to live with your choices, knowing you could have prevented another tragedy?” Tegan’s dark eyes probe into Rendyl’s own dark ones, searching for a response even if he refuses to look at her. Why does Rendyl have to contradict everything I say or do?
Djebelle looks back and forth at the two as they go at it. Both firmly, passionately, believe in the right of their position.
She sighs. "I wish I were as certain of ANYTHING as you two are about EVERYTHING. I don't know, OK? I don't know if we should kill them now for crimes they have committed. I'm sure they deserve it. I don't know if they will behave themselves if we spare them. I don't know if we owe them that chance."
"I do know one thing, though: they could have been me. I lost my home when I was 15 - if I hadn't had family to take me in, I could have ended up here. If I had, I would want to be offered another chance to live my life differently."
She looks at Tegan. "Would you have taken that chance from me? Will you take it away from them?"
Rendyl's gaze moves back to Tegan as she explains her position, his face darkening at the woman's words. While he's sure she means well ultimately, her thoughts on the matter are foreign to him. Just a difference of breeding, probably, or perhaps that frost floating about her had settled on her heart, as well.
The ranger has time to collect himself and calm somewhat as the priestess has her say, the tall young man nodding at her words. Indeed...if he had not already been taught how to hunt and care for himself at a young age, his life on the frontier could easily have taken a darker turn. As Djebelle asks the smaller woman her questions, Rendyl is polite enough to wait for the response before giving his own retort to Tegan.
"I've never been smart or clever with words, but implying that I have something against Oleg or Svetlana is foolishness. They remind me of my parents, trying to make their way in a fairly lawless land. I DO, however, value human life above an unnecessary treat. Do Svetlana and Oleg deserve their happiness? Of course they do! But you're talking about tossing these men's lives away for expediency's sake, then immediately propose a scavenger hunt for radishes!" Rendyl's voice rises at the end of this statement. He takes a deep breath, being careful to stay far enough away so as not to seem threatening.
"Is anything in life certain, Tegan? No one could guarantee anyone's behavior." The party had had that very issue with the elementalist, in fact. "This Kestin Garess should be at Oleg's by the time we return, and maybe he'll just put them all to the sword and wash his hands of it. But that charter you just drew out to wave at us is clear. Unrepentant banditry! Not just banditry. I don't consider myself or any of us a law in these parts, not in the traditional sense, but I believe that Garess will be. Or close enough, at any rate. I don't intend any burden on Oleg or his wife to house and feed them, nor will I risk their well-being by trying to imprison them there. If you recall, that was a reservation that I myself brought up. They will be judged, then their punishment shall be determined."
At least in theory. The ranger was tired and irritable. His blood had been rushing in his ears during the fighting...now it was experiencing its inevitable decline as danger no longer reigned. He leaned against a nearby tree, waiting the the lovely woman's response and for other party members to chime in.
”Tell me everything you know about the Stag Lord.”
With Kressle still unconscious, the remaining bandits can’t add to anything you already didn’t knew. They have never met this ‘Stag Lord’; they know that he is a might warrior and that he commands the bandits, but they don’t know where is headquarters are, except it’s to the south.
”Where are the other bandits?”
There’s no other bandits here in the north. Kressle and her twenty something bandits was the sum up of the bandits here in the north. Certainly, there’ll be more down south. However, they know nothing about it.
”Who did you take these from? And what's this greenish herbal liquor that there is eight bottles of?”
They’re taken from some passing merchant. The poor merchant resisted, and didn’t live to see another day. The Liquor was acquired from the same merchant. It’s supposed to be sent to the Stag Lord.
”Where is the bandit who fled from Oleg’s Trading Post? He stole one of our horses.”
Kressle sent him south; on the same horse he stole. Presumably, to inform the Stag Lord of the new arrivals, but they didn’t hear where exactly. Kressle made sure to keep the information secret from the rest of the bandits.
Vik returns to the tree where he set his sword. The stench of burned flesh still stinging his nostrils, he sits beside the sheathed weapon and he closes his eyes.
He can hear the others and the argument about what to do with the bandits.
Perhaps I should go and talk to them, he thinks, but quickly dismisses that action.
Who am I to tell them what to do! I am just a wantabe swordlord who rushes into situations without thinking
So Vik just sits there, a miserable shell of the confident man he once was.
"I do know one thing, though: they could have been me. I lost my home when I was 15 - if I hadn't had family to take me in, I could have ended up here. If I had, I would want to be offered another chance to live my life differently."
She looks at Tegan. "Would you have taken that chance from me? Will you take it away from them?"
Tegan looks sympathetic and surprised at Djebelle’s reveal but her expression turns cool at the woman’s questions. Tegan cares about the well-being of others but she isn’t going to let strangers, especially bandits, take advantage of her kindness.
”Fifteen is old enough to know right from wrong, Djebelle. Even if you’re starving, you don’t join organized crime and kill innocent people. …Now, stealing bread because you’re starving is understandable and completely forgivable.” Tegan’s pretty features harden, making her look like the fierce beauty that she is. ”But staging an ambush with explosives and intent to kill is not. They killed a traveling merchant and stole his jewelry and booze. They’ve been camping here like it’s their lair, waiting for innocent people to prey upon. That’s not the same kind of thievery as someone just trying to get by.” Tegan crosses her arms, ”I think, if they actually wanted to better themselves, they’d hang out in a city or town looking for work. Not holed up in the middle of the forest, far away from job opportunities. ...There are always options.”
Djebelle sighs, deeply. There is truth in what Tegan is saying, and there is truth in Rendyl's ideas too.
"We're not going to solve this in the woods, right now. We tie them up, we head back to Oleg's and we hand them over to this Lieutenant Garess. If he wants to put them on trial, I will speak in their defence - and if the verdict is to hang them, I won't protest any further."
She looks anxiously at the rest of the group, hoping for some signs of support. The last thing she wants is for them to become split into factions: they are only as strong as they are united. Divided, they are at the mercy of the Stolen Lands - and it is clearer by the day that there is little mercy in the Stolen Lands.
Rendyl nods in approval at the priestess' words. Perhaps this Garess would provide clarification on the matter for future decision-making, as well. If they were just handing the men over for the hangman's noose, regardless, then Tegan's idea of a swift, merciful death had merit. They would see in the near future, and hopefully put this behind them.
The ranger rubs a hand over his face, the stress of the day wearing on him. Seeing the swordlord standing on his own, he walks over to the man, his long strides carrying him swiftly to Vik's perch. He grins at the man, "Nice sword work out there, Vik! You struck down that man so forcefully that the bandits could do nothing else but focus on the terrifying blademaster in their midst. It left us more rangy folk free to rain down destruction without swords in our faces." He claps the man on the shoulder, giving him another brief smile, before the ranger begins to make camp.
He checks the bandits' bonds to make sure they are secure, whispering to them. "We travel back to the law in these lands. Best think about your decisions to this point. I won't guarantee anything, but if you are truly repentant you could possibly at least enjoy a more pleasant afterlife." The ranger looks at the bound men gravely, expression serious.
Rendyl finds a spot on the ground on the other side of the fire from the cooked corpses, laying out his bedroll and lacing his fingers behind his head. It had been easier today. The people who had trained him had been right. Your heart would grow callouses with time and experience. The ranger just hoped it wouldn't harden too much.
Vik smiles weakly up at the ranger as he attempts to raise his spirits. He leaning against the tree all night, trying to decide what he should do. This wake-up call has devastated the swordsman's confidence and all through the night he argues with himself with his worthiness to wield his grandfather's sword, or if he should simply slink back to the city and give up his dreams to become a swordlord and restore his family's honour.
As the sun slowly rises, and the gloom of the dark night melts away, Vik takes his sword and, stripped to the waist, slowly begins the dance that he has completed every morning since he was old enough to hold a sword. The weapon comes alive in his hands as the workout builds in speed and intensity. Once again he can feel the thrill of becoming one with the sword, but also the caution of who he is battling and what sort of response he might need to deal with. The smooth dance falters slightly as these thought intrude upon the calm of his mind, but soon he incorporates these new ideas into his kata, and new parries and thrusts come to him almost like magic, as the possibility of different attacks cycle through his mind. He ends the martial waltz with a withdraw, something he would never had though of before, and stands breathing heavily in the crisp morning air. He has his decision, and he go to breakfast with a new determination and better understanding of his place in the tapestry of his life.
"Alright," Tegan agrees, "We'll let Lieutenant Garess decide what to do with the bandits." Tegan helps pack up all of the spoils from their battle against the bandits while the other party members with more muscle prepare the bandits for the trip back to Oleg's.
Tegan is eager to see her horse, which is a first. She remains silent for the majority of the walk to their belongings. She uses her horse as a vehicle to transport a reasonable portion of the furs and other retrieved items.
Since the party has to travel at walking speed to accommodate their prisoners, they will probably have to camp for the night. Tegan offers to take last watch but finds it difficult to fall asleep with bandits in such close proximity. When she finally does fall asleep, her sleep isn't restful. She tosses and turns in her bedroll, troubled by the possibilities of an attempted escape.
Tegan’s eyes widen at the brutish man with the unkempt beard and bad breath. She’s swept with embarrassment, then anger. But this time, when she tries to defend herself, the man just laughs and captures both her wrists, pulling her arms helplessly upward.
The brute pins her slender wrists easily with only one hand. With his other, he violates Tegan as she screams for help. More bandits surround her, grinning evilly, but her companions are nowhere in sight.
Her clothing is torn off and Tegan is thrown over a barrel. She claws and bites at her assailants but they just laugh. Unable to face her attackers due to shame, Tegan turns her head to meet gruesome sight: the mutilated bodies of her companions. Their throats are slit and their glassy eyes stare lifelessly back at Tegan.
Tegan abruptly sits up from the now confining blanket and bedroll. Her back is wet with sweat and her heart is racing. Seeing that it's still dark, Tegan slowly lowers herself back into her bedroll.
”The tanner’s son?!” Tegan’s sister, April, shrieks with glee. ”So that’s why you haven’t been home, sister dearest.” April has two village boys on either arm, carrying April’s shawl and a bottle of wine.
Tegan frowns at her sister, unhappy to have run into her. ”What are you talking about, April?” Tegan brushes past her sister but one of April’s lackeys places his palm on Tegan’s collarbone.
”Stop and chat with us Tegan. It’s too early to be making dinner,” April’s voice is silky and seductive as if she’s beckoning a lover. It was April’s favorite tone to take, even when addressing her own sister.
Tegan sidesteps to detach the boy’s hand. ”I have work orders to finish. I’ll see you at home, April.” Happy fourteenth birthday to me.
When it's time for Tegan to wake and take last watch, she's not ready to face the new day. She's as beautiful as ever, but there are traces of a restless night below her pretty eyes.
Djebelle's sleep is fitful at best: it is one thing to resolve a dispute by glibly mentioning a trial, but quite another to contemplate the realities of it. If the bandits' lives hang in the balance of her defence, what can she possibly say to mitigate their crimes?
Tegan's words also resonate with her.
"Even if you’re starving, you don’t join organized crime and kill innocent people. …Now, stealing bread because you’re starving is understandable and completely forgivable.” Tegan’s pretty features harden, making her look like the fierce beauty that she is. ”But staging an ambush with explosives and intent to kill is not. They killed a traveling merchant and stole his jewelry and booze. They’ve been camping here like it’s their lair, waiting for innocent people to prey upon. That’s not the same kind of thievery as someone just trying to get by.” Tegan crosses her arms, ”I think, if they actually wanted to better themselves, they’d hang out in a city or town looking for work. Not holed up in the middle of the forest, far away from job opportunities. ...There are always options.”
However much Djebelle might point out that - under different circumstances - she could have followed their path, she's no longer certain how much she truly believes that.
When Tegan, who is sleeping a few feet away, sits bolt upright, Djebelle is grateful for the distraction from her own thoughts. Keeping her voice low so as not to wake the others, she reaches out to the other girl: "Are you OK?"
When the ranger wakes the next morning he feels stiff and sore. Chasing the bandits through the woods in the heavy scale had been hell on his body. Now that he had a horse, he decided he might opt for a lighter armor to help his range of motion and with future chases like that. A thought for another day, though. As he looked about camp he noted that Vik seemed to be in better spirits, and the two ladies appeared to be in discussion after a rough night's sleep.
Opting to give them their privacy, Rendyl goes to check on their prisoners, then helps prepare their mounts for the day ahead, making sure their straps and buckles were appropriately tightened. The horses led a relatively simple life, one the ranger envied at times. Too many greys in the world...how much simpler would it be if things were black and white?
The young man's thoughts turned ahead, to after their trio back to Oleg's. What then? They had a charter that went beyond simple bandits...perhaps they should do a bit of exploration...something a bit more simple to build comradery. After the last couple of days, the young man thinks the group needs a break from bandit-hunting. Maybe they could hunt these radishes, as a peace offering to Tegan. They could decide after they returned and collected their bounty.
The night pass with no mama Badger or Wolf howls to distract the charters. The cold morning greets everyone to a new day of travel. Kressle waked up during the night, but she stayed silent and sulking. Most likely she understands that resistance is futile, when they were beaten even having a good numeric advantage over the charters. The day of traveling pass in blink of an eye. You meet no one else in the wilds, and it’s close to the night when you finally reach Oleg’s.
Once you reach the trading post, you immediately notice the difference. There are soldiers keeping a watch in the walls! And it’s no long before you discover that the Lieutenant Kesten Garess had arrived.
One other important thing you notice is that, there’s a new band of adventures staying at Oleg’s as well. They most likely are the second group of charters, sent by the sword lords. They are also talking to the lieutenant when you arrive.
At glance, you notice four of them: The beautiful and outspoken woman, which seems to be the leader of the opposition. The rude looking dwarf, the primitive looking half orc, and the silent woman.
You also hear laugher and talking inside the fort residence. It seems the ‘Opposition’ has one more member, which is currently talking to Svetlena and Oleg.
”Hail adventures!” the Lieutenant greets you as you approach the gates. ”If you seek a place to sleep, dinner and provision you’ve come to the right place.” his tone leaves an unsaid threat in the air: What if you didn’t come for the reasons above?
Rendyl's dark eyes flit over the members of the other charter as the group approaches, assessing what he believes would be their skill set. The redheaded woman was likely a caster of some sort, the dwarf and half-orc some kind of warrior type. The silent female seemed a more sneaky sort, though probably no less deadly. They seemed like worthy competition...it was a good thing Rendyl's companions had a leg up on them.
The ranger raised his hand in greeting to the Lieutenant. "Sleep, dinner, and provisions would be a welcome sight. But first, business." The young man indicates with his hand the four trussed-up bandits along with their leader, Kressle. "Another blow has been dealt against the bandits of the region. We left several of their companions dead in the lands to the south. Combined with the several OUR charter have slain or taken captive here at Oleg's, I believe that puts the count close to twenty. Therefore, we lay claim to the bounty offered for a dozen bandits captured or slain in these lands."
He glances back at his companions for a moment, meeting each of their eyes. Turning back to the Lieutenant, he adds, "As to the bandits' disposition and the possibility of their atonement and repentance, we shall leave that in your hands, good sir." With that, the ranger stands still, waiting for Garess to respond and/or invite them inside.
Tegan is less direct about that charter than her ranger companion.
Tegan greets the Lieutenant, ”Ah! Lieutenant Kesten Garess? Did you read the letter I left with Oleg? I’m so glad you’re here! This Trading Post had nearly a dozen bandits raiding it when we arrived!” Tegan smiles, happy there will be an excess of muscle at the Trading Post tonight. She flicks her long eyelashes up at Kesten’s face to study his expression. I hope he and his guards will be able to hold off further bandit attacks.
”This is the bandit leader of the north,” Tegan points to Kressle, ”She’s the one who ordered the raid on Oleg’s Trading Post… We haven’t interviewed her yet, but we plan to.” Tegan narrows her eyes at the bandit leader, showing her dislike for the woman. ”We cleared their camp and found crates of fur which might have been stolen from Oleg.” Tegan nods at the Lieutenant: ”If you would please excuse me, I’d like to clean off this blood and eat a warm meal. Let's continue this conversation inside,” Tegan gestures to her shoulder where her once modest, yet pretty dress has been torn by several arrows. Her dried blood stains her shoulder and long drip lines stain the body of her dress.
Tegan doesn’t mention the other bandits in tow because she disapproved of taking them back to Oleg’s in the first place. Still, she nods at her companions before moving forward into the building. Perhaps brining back live prisoners is more impressive than just word of mouth, Tegan muses. She gives the Lieutenant another furtive glance, trying gauge what he thinks of the prisoners.
Tegan is eager to get inside the Trading Post and see Svetlana again. Maybe Oleg’s wife will have a bucket and soap Tegan could use. Tegan also wasn't fond of the trail rations she'd had to eat for the past two days. Who is making Oleg and Sveltana laugh? Tegan searches for a possible fifth person. Her beautiful features show signs of curiosity as she scans the Trading Post.
Djebelle is weary to her very soul, but she offers the Lieutenant as crisp a salute as she is able to: the Sarenites are a militant order, after all - if not to the same extent as the Iomedaeans. "Djebelle Torr, Sword-Chaplain, reporting. My companions are correct: following the raid on Oleg's, we tracked the bandits to their camp and attacked. The leader is called Kressle - we captured her and three others who surrendered. The rest are facing Pharasma's judgement, save for one who fled." She hesitates briefly. "We, uh, we thought it better to bring these back for questioning and judgement rather than press on."
When Tegan departs, she lingers with Lieutenant Garess, trying to get some impression of the man.
Maybe seeing the competition sparkled the desire to prove himself to others, which prompts Rendyl state boldly their accomplishments over the other group to the representative sent by the swordlords.
The man looks at the arriving party with appraising eyes before acknowledging their success. ”Aye. That’s an impressive feat. Glad to meet you. I’m Kesten Garess, as you all already know. Pleased to meet you Miss Djebelle.”. He looks at the trailing bandits before adding: ”Aye. You did well, not rushing into unknown dangers without preparation. As for the bandits, you can leave them to my care, and I’ll send them to meet Brevoy’s justice, which will most likely be the end of the hope, or you can decide their fate yourself. The chart you possess gives you right to it.”. Then he mentions the bandit leader: ”Once you are finished with her, you can deal with her yourselves of entrust her to me, as per usual.”
Then he looks at Tegan for some minutes, and then looks at the ‘Opposition’ for a moment before nodding politely. ”Aye. I received the letter from Oleg, and dispatched it this morning to the Lord Mayor.”
The man does not block your way if you try to enter the fort, nor does he invite you in. He seems oddly impartial to all of this. He is cordial and answer when you talk to him or ask any questions, but he does not seem adept of social gifts and open to conversation.
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Eager for a good meal, and the possibility of cleaning herself out of the dirty of the road and battle, Tegan moves inside the old fort, partially intrigued by the fact it’s the first time she ever heard Oleg’s laugh. From what you noticed on your last stay here, Oleg is the sort of grumpy not so social type of person and such heartfelt laugh seems very out of character. Tegan walks closer to the building her interest picked. gradually without she notices, for some reason her heart starts to pound in her chest, warning bells exploding on her mind, but the moment she notices such things it’s too late, for she has already stepped through the door of the building.
A dizzyingly seductive smile adorns the face of the woman talking to the owners of the fort. She has thick, inky, black hair with a shade of deep red cut down at shoulder’s length. Her eyes, a pair of slightly upturned large eyes. Within her light-colored pupil was an amber luster, which you could not help associating with exotic cats. Her skin is fair and looks warm to the touch. The woman is a petite slender woman standing at about 5’2 and weighing a little less than 110lbs.
Bright smile turns towards the door the same instant Tegan’s step into it. One would say she knew the exact moment Tegan was about to enter the building. The woman inside then continue to talk, addressing Tegan that had just arrived. ”What an exquisite time, sister of mine.” April beams happily then continues, ”I was just about to tell then of that time, when you decided to take bow lessons with Peter.” the she turns out to Svetlena and Oleg before continuing, ”They were red beet and extremely shy in each other presence! It was so cute!” then, April walk over to Tegan, reaching out and embracing her sister warmly. ”I so missed you, sister of mine.”. Tears falls down on her face, as she happily reunites with her long lost sister.
Vik enters the old fort and, for the most part, ignores everyone. He helps to corral the prisoners, but then leaves them in the protective custody of the Lieutenant.
The warrior moves into the area where they meet just a few days ago for a meal before departing. It seems like a lifetime ago, when in fact only a few days have passed. He takes out his sword and his cleaning kit. He slowly begins to work out any nicks or blemishes he sees, then oils the weapon against the dampness of the Greenbelt.
The alchemist casts a prolonged look at his fallen foes. If the other could see the expression on his face, constantly hidden behind that wooden mask, it would show an uncomfortable blend of sympathy and contempt. Those men had done nothing to win any favors with him. In fact, quite the contrary. Hylaen was at that very moment battling with his own conscience, conjuring up excuses not to act like he once would.
A better solution is a practical solution. Creatures like them are unlikely to learn. Problems solved today will not grow in the future. And yet...
It was Djbelle's argument that strengthened Hylaen's resolve.
"I do know one thing, though: they could have been me. I lost my home when I was 15 - if I hadn't had family to take me in, I could have ended up here. If I had, I would want to be offered another chance to live my life differently."
I was ready to let those humans walk free two days ago for the same reason. They weren't less cruel than these. Hylaen stared at the bloodied ground for a moment and then, suddenly, began to silently prepare his things to depart, gathering confiscated objects and loot, as the matter was already decided. It was, on his mind. Soon enough, the suggestion to move on was made. Hylaen would discuss things with the other if his opinion was asked, or if the subject was brought back again. So far, the decision seemed diplomatic enough.
While others were getting ready, the elf shyly approached Tegan. As requested, he would take care of her injuries - "You seem to have a thing with arrows, don't you?" - and would also offer to have a look at everyone else that were harmed during the fight.
When they arrive, Hylaen is anxious for a good meal, a good bath and perhaps a comfortable place to sit and drink one of his special herbal infusions - elf or not, it would take a lot of time before he ceased to constantly miss the comforts of the city. Soon enough though Hylaen became anxious for another reason.
The alchemist knew they were bound to meet the competition, but he hoped it wouldn't be so soon. Personaly, Hylaen didn't liked most adventurer types. He didn't considered himself one, being forced into this life instead of following it by choice, and wasn't comfortable among sellswords and treasure hunters, with their bold personalities, tall tales and unstable characters... of at least it was how they were painted among the high class. His own group barely fitted that description. But then again, his lordship wouldn't put him up, Hylaen, with anyone. Would he? At this point, the elf wasn't so sure of anything regarding his lordship anymore.
Hylaen followed his companions, trying to stay invisible under the shadow of his hat, happy to listen instead of speaking, and nervously hoping no one from the opposing group would speak to him.
Rendyl gives the Lieutenant a brief salute, giving the 'other' group a neutral glance before helping to move the prisoners and horses inside. Gratefully he hands the bandits over to the soldiers' care, resigned to the fact that they will likely swing for their crimes. The ranger didn't trust himself to judge whether they would be in earnest or not, as far as sorrow for their crimes, therefore he thought it best he personally did not sit in judgment.
The young man leads his horse (and any of the others' horses, if they are inclined to go straight to talk to Oleg) to the stables, surprised to see another woman surprisingly similar to Tegan greeting the pretty young woman. A possible complication, if they were related. The ranger decided to take his time brushing down the horses, not particular looking forward to bantering with the other group.
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Tegan freezes as she sees almost a mirror image of herself inside Oleg’s – her sister. April has always been more beautiful than Tegan, but there was no denying the similarities in appearance. Unlike Tegan, April would never be caught in a torn, blood-stained dress. Tegan feels frumpy standing next to her sister and wholly unprepared for the encounter. She’s starkly aware than she hasn’t bathed in days. How did she find me? And so soon… Oh no, I hope she isn’t part of the other charter.
The woman inside then continue to talk, addressing Tegan that had just arrived. ”What an exquisite time, sister of mine.” April beams happily then continues, ”I was just about to tell then of that time, when you decided to take bow lessons with Peter.” the she turns out to Svetlena and Oleg before continuing, ”They were red beet and extremely shy in each other presence! It was so cute!” then, April walk over to Tegan, reaching out and embracing her sister warmly. ”I so missed you, sister of mine.”. Tears falls down on her face, as she happily reunites with her long lost sister.
Tegan remains stiffly immobile as her sister embraces her. The hug would have looked awkward if not for April’s skilled acts in performance. Crocodile tears, Tegan narrows her eyes slightly, not trusting her sister.
Tegan makes her way to the edge of town to a small clearing, her heart racing. Hundreds of wildflowers cover the hillside, surrounding a huge oak with extended branches prefect for sitting. Peter had told Tegan to meet him here as soon as it got dark.
She meets Peter behind the tree to see that he’s brought a cake and candles to celebrate her fourteenth birthday. ”Hurry and make a wish,” he teases, ”I’m hungry.” Tegan closes her eyes and blows, wishing for many more birthdays with Peter.
”Sister dearest?” Tegan's eyes widen as her sister’s seductive voice calls out from the other side of the oak tree. ”Father and I were worried about where you’d run off too – Oh! A cake!” April invites herself to join the two, offering Peter a dazzling smile which seems to knock him blindsided. Tegan, on the other hand, is too shocked at her sister’s arrival to offer words. Liar, father’s passed out from drink.
Tegan observes, while the sweet cake turns to sawdust in her mouth, April charm Peter. April tells moving stories of their childhood, skewing or omitting parts to fit her own agenda. She tells of the time Tegan found a stray cat but leaves out the part where she threatened to throw the animal down a well after finding cat hair on her clothes. Tegan had been so scared that she’d found another home for the stray. April gushes to Peter about the Reyker Tailoring shop, implying she helps Tegan which is the furthest thing from the truth.
Peter offers to walk the two girls home, something he’d never offered Tegan before. After both Tegan and April are inside, Peter waves the departs. ”What was that about?” Tegan asks accusatory, but regrets the question as soon as it left her lips. Now she knows he’s important to me. April smirks, her pretty face showing nothing but confidence, ”dear sister, can’t I take an interest in your life?”
Tegan considers leaving Oleg’s and never returning. Where would she go? How would she survive? No. If her sister is a member of the other charter, Tegan has more reason than ever to stay. Her sister, an enchantress of words, bending other people to her own self-perceived entitlements.
Tegan breaks away from April's embrace to turn to Svetlana, "Do you have a place I could wash up?" Tegan decides she's going to get cleaned up and her dress mended before dealing with her sister. She quickly retreats to bathe and wash her dress. She scrubs at the blood stains with her fingers, rubbing the fabric from both sides. Her undergarments had been protected thanks to her dress, so she’s able to keep on her white frock while she works. When the dress has been washed, Tegan pulls out her artisan toolkit and shortens the sleeves to hide the arrow damage.
She hangs the still wet dress over a chair back and wears whatever Svetlana provides (or one of April's if Svetlana has none.) Lastly, Tegan brushes out her hair and fashions it in a simple upward bun, keeping the majority of the inky locks out of her face. I need to make myself another dress, Tegan thinks as she rejoins the party an hour later in the main area.
"So April, are you part of the other charter? Who are the others?" Tegan folds her hands into her lap as she sits at one of the wooden tables. She feels significantly more confident being clean and her hair brushed. "These are my companions: Vik, Hylaen, Djebelle, Rendyl, and Damiel." Tegan gestures to her various companions as she names them.
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Slightly nonplussed by the Lieutenant's noncommittal attitude (not to herself, she's not bothered by that, but he is the first man she's met so far - companions included - who hasn't been distracted by Tegan's looks), Djebelle nods politely to him and takes her leave - only to stop dead just inside the gateway as she gawks at Tegan and someone who can only be her sister: "Two of them?!"
She looks disbelievingly at the others.
"There's two of them. TWO of them. Two of THEM." However she phrases it, it doesn't sound any better.
Aware that she's gabbling, she blushes slightly and leads her horse to the stables. "Come on, Night. It's been a long few days. Let's get you back under a roof."
The ranger nodded in sympathy to the priestess, a beaten-down look coming over his face as his eyes flicked to the dark-haired beauties before turning back to his destination, the stables. While Tegan was a valuable companion in battle and on the road, he silently thanked Erastil that someone in charge had seen fit to split the duo.
Rendyl led his horse to a stall in the stables, making sure there was plenty of hay and water for the beast before he took the saddle off, giving the beast as good of a rub-down as he could manage. Oh how nice it would be to just stay out here all afternoon and just sit with the simple creatures. Sometimes one had to face the uncomfortable, and for the ranger that was this not-so-small gathering of competitors, soldiers, and the suddenly joyful Oleg.
The lanky man led Tegan's horse to a stall, silently thanking the young woman for forgetting about the beast in the face of meeting what could only be her sibling. The ranger proceeded to care for the beast as he had his own, looking over at Djebelle as she led her magnificent horse into the stable. "I'll care for him if you'd rather join the others." He offers the Sarenite a brief smile before turning back to the beast in front of him.
"I-I'll join you!" declared Hylaen, very interested in the welfare of the party's animals, all of a sudden, hastly turning around and almost tripping over Djebelle's heels as he followed the Sarenite to the stables. To deal with a whole band of mercenaries while tired from his journey was one thing, but he didn't even want to consider an Tegan relative at the moment.
In front of the stalls, the elf said "We should give Tegan some time, perhaps... She should have personal matters to discuss" he added, quite formally. His expression was unclear, hidden as always, but the hesitant way he spoke suggested Hylaen never had much intimacy on his life.
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"I'll care for him if you'd rather join the others."
Night doesn’t seem happy with the ranger suggestion. She neighs displeasingly, and then walks around Djebelle, maybe trying to reassert her position with the cleric, saying she doesn’t want to be cared for anyone else. Or maybe was the fact that the ranger called her ‘him’ that displeased the white steed.
"There's two of them. TWO of them. Two of THEM."
The lieutenant has a sympathetic look on his face at the cleric’s outburst, after a deep sigh, continues his watch, maybe dreading what other catastrophes fate might throw their way.
"Do you have a place I could wash up?”
”Oh dear. We have not washroom at the trading post, but I can heat some water for you if you want.” the wife says warmly.
And while Tegan flee from her sister, using the excuse she needs to wash up, April, finding herself without anyone to talk to, decides to explore on her own. Since the place where most of the charters are gathering is the stables, that’s her first destination.
Wanting nothing more than peace and rest after their travels, Djebelle, Rendyl and Hylean are tending to the welfare of their horses, while avoiding the pair of sisters. Hylean had just suggested that Tegan might need some time to talk with her sister, when said sister walks inside the tables, smiling and looking curious at everything and everyone.
”So you are my sister companions?” the beautiful and sensual smile on her face somehow turns even more dazzling than before. ”I’m April! I hope that my sister isn’t giving you any trouble. She’d been always prone to outburst for almost no reason.” she doesn’t wait for an answer, her interest picked by the masked elf. She walks closer, too close, one would one say. ”Oh my. What happened to your face? Was it a fire?” she inquires reaching out and touching Hylean arm’s in a gently manner, consoling him for the supposed fire that disfigured his face.
Still holding up Hylean arms, she notices now the white steed. ”What an amazing horse! Who does it belong to? Is it Tegan?” her eyes sparkle with happiness of being able to see such amazing creature.
Rendyl smirked at Hylaen on the way to the stables, but otherwise said nothing. He understood all too well the elf's reasoning in wanting to join them. Although it would reduce the amount of time it would take the ranger to properly stable the horses, perhaps he could get to know the masked man a little better in the interim.
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Sensing the obvious displeasure of Night, the lanky man chuckles, holding out his hands and backing away from the majestic beast. He shrugs at the priestess, smile on his face as he turns back to his current task. The ranger hoped the young woman knew what she was doing with the strange creature.
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Rendyl merely nods at the beautiful woman's question, thankful for her interest in Hylaen. He silently apologized to the elf as he shifted to the other side of Tegan's horse, keeping the equine form between him and April. Even the ranger knew it would be rude to just suddenly walk out of the stables, but he keeps his eyes focused on the task at hand, hoping to avoid eye contact.
Damiel watches as Kressle and the other bandits are tied up and readied for the journey back to the fort. Would be better to just slit their throats and get it over with he thinks, but keeps his thoughts to himself and lets the other go about the business of preparing the prisoners.
With the semi permanent scowl on his face, Damiel looks over the new charter people. So that is the competition, this could be interesting he thinks.
Watching Rendyl take care of his horse, Damiel follows his example on removing the saddle, then rubbing down the horse. "Rendyl, is this right? he asks the woodsman.
The lanky man led Tegan's horse to a stall, silently thanking the young woman for forgetting about the beast in the face of meeting what could only be her sibling. The ranger proceeded to care for the beast as he had his own, looking over at Djebelle as she led her magnificent horse into the stable. "I'll care for him if you'd rather join the others." He offers the Sarenite a brief smile before turning back to the beast in front of him.
Djebelle blinks. "Oh - thank you, but as Vik pointed out, she seems to be a one-person horse. Also, we haven't spent a lot of time together recently, so..." She spends a few minutes patting Night's neck and generally fussing over her until the horse calms down.
"But there is, um, something you could do. Could you, um, show me how to, you know, care for her? Clean her hooves, make sure she hasn't got sprains, that sort of thing. I can ride, but my uncle always had grooms to do the... other stuff." She blushes, again aware that she never fit into the world of the nobility, but she has no practical skills to fit into the outside world, either.
The mood changes as Tegan's sister walks in.
”So you are my sister companions?” the beautiful and sensual smile on her face somehow turns even more dazzling than before. ”I’m April! I hope that my sister isn’t giving you any trouble. She’d been always prone to outburst for almost no reason.”
You defend those on your team, no matter what. Djebelle has a number of misgivings about Tegan, including the sore spot that April has almost immediately pounced on, but there's no way Djebelle is letting that one go. "Tegan's actually very brave. When we first arrived at this trading post, it was being robbed by a dozen bandits. Tegan was the first one into the attack, and she didn't hesitate until they were all dead or surrendered."
Iomedaeans are sworn to the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth; Sarenites value the truth, but they also know that occasionally it needs some colouring in.
Djebelle gives the beautiful girl a friendly smile. "Are you the leader of your group, April? What brave things have you done so far?"
””What an amazing horse! Who does it belong to? Is it Tegan?” her eyes sparkle with happiness of being able to see such amazing creature.
Djebelle shakes her head. "No, actually, she belongs to me. I think. It's complicated." She pats Night's snow-white neck. "We're still getting to know each other."