To Kesten, Jemini is shining with genuine relief, "I am glad to see you so eager to pursue this. I believe we both know that this is a wonderful opportunity to restore things to the way they should be."
Jemini is referring to this as an opportunity for Kesten to regain his lost prestige at House Garess. Anybody else who makes the sense motive check can pick up on Jemini knowing some inside information on Kesten.
"Indeed it is. Once you've rested, we can talk specifics. I'll see you all in the morning, though it will likely be more like the early afternoon by the time you're up."
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Verik takes the manacles and hands them over to Kesten's men.
"Well I am relieved to hear that." Verik says sleepily to the nobles, glancing at the lightening sky. "And on that note I shall go and say my prayers and then hit the hay. Night all, and thank you for the food Svetlana." After heading inside to change into his leather armor he takes a seat before the guest quarters pulling his legs up beneath him as he watches the dawn, slowly letting his eyes drop closed as the sun warms him.
Dear Abadar,
Might not be terribly coherent I have yet to find my bed, so my apologies in advance for what may prove to be erratic ramblings. The last day has given me much to ponder, though I think we have achieved a great deal. We subdued a force of bandits and put them to death. I should probably have intervened to prevent one man being slain, but Taisper had done the deed in the blink of an eye. It was certainly the practical decision, we have no real facilities to house prisoners, but the man had spoken what he knew. If he was repentant... well I shall never know. Can one be repentant because one was caught? I tend to feel that one cannot if one was unrepentant before hand...
Sorry where was I? The bandits, yes. Well we captured their leader a thoroughly unpleasant woman whose removal would make the world a better place. But we promised to spare her should we feel the information she gave us was worthwhile. And we could not in good faith deny that it was indeed of great importance. Now we find that we are arrayed against not only this Stag Lord - with his bizarre horned helmet fetish - but also against the Lord Mayor of Restov, who was ultimately responsible for the raid upon Oleg's trade post!...
He does not open his eyes after his prayers are completed but rather slumps in place and begins snoring gently resting upon the table.
Taisper sits quietly off to the side with his well-worn copy of the Order of Numbers as everyone else makes their way to the guest house, or at least off to different business elsewhere. He is re-reading a particularly dog-eared section of the book. After his companions have gone to sleep, or are at least out of sight and out of earshot, Taisper closes the book. He looks at the guest house for a while. Then he unties his sash and looks at his key, given him by the priests in Alkenstar City shortly after his 19th birthday -- just a few short months ago, now -- on the occasion of his entry into the church as a full Inquisitor, after passing all requisite exams years ahead of schedule. They were all so proud. His father's injuries kept him from the ceremony, but his mother was there. He frowns as he notes a few small nicks taken out of the key's soft metal.
Taisper stands up then, and loads his crossbow. With the weapon in one hand and his key in the other, he walks to where he can see the building where Kressle is held, Kesten's guards chatting to each other in front. When they spy Taisper, they look at him quizzically. He smiles brightly and waves at them, his key still in his hand. They wave back, then return to their conversations.
His eyes narrowed and his face blank, Taisper looks at that building for a very long time.
When one of the guards once again takes notice of the young inquisitor and this time starts to walk over, Taisper shakes his head and holds up his hand. "Sorry! Sorry guys, just kind of faded out for a minute there. I'm real tired, hey? I should get some sleep." He smiles again, as winningly as possible given the awkward circumstances, and walks back to the table. Picking up his book and shouldering the rest of his gear, he walks to the guesthouse, looking at the fire damage as he does so.
Arriving at the door, he steals one last look at Kressle's erstwhile cell. Shaking his head, he mutters in celestial. "Yray relany lruoht cuy pelay. Hafwijeln fuoht yray I vuoht fielht zuon wajelh." He walks quietly in, then, and sets his belongings by his bed. He smiles as he listens to Berrin snore, and the soft sleep noises of the others. It reminds him of home, a small apartment in the Gun District with two siblings and parents. Bare wood. One blanket. Family. Home. Exhaustion suddenly washes over him. He looks first at Jemini, then out the window at Verik, his head down on the table. I'm sorry I don't understand, you guys, I'm trying real hard. But...but I don't think you... He cuts the thought off. "Zuo soly celjeln bunwely I as yrel rasseln. I as Molyivel lelnjelt." he whispers.
Laying back, he looks lovingly at a print of the Lawgiver in his battered holy text. It is the last thing he sees before falling asleep.
Dwan breaks over Oleg's Trading Post, but the expedition is fast asleep in the guest house, exhausted from their overnight march. Late in the morning, or perhaps early in the afternoon, Svetlana comes in and slowly opens the curtains. The bright light streams into the room, little by little. As they begin to stir, Svetlana happily greets them. "Good morning, everyone! I've prepared a proper feast for you all. Grilled stag steak, warm bread, and my special moon radish soup."
"Moon radish? Here?" Jemini perks up out of her bed, the long shirt she's wearing is even more disheveled and loose than normal as sleeping in the heat of the day is not entirely comfortable. She stifles a yawn, and looks around guiltily - fortunately nobody seems to notice or care.
"We're in for a feast! Moon radish is served only rarely at home; it's just too hard to cultivate - but it's delicious." Jemini slips out of her sleeping shirt and into her usual day attire. "Svetlana, we appreciate all this effort you're doing for us. But, if I may intrude on your hospitality some more - could you run a bath for me around the back? After breakfa-- uhm... lunch? I'd really enjoy lounging in a bit of hot and wet luxury."
Zander detaches the cart from the horse at the point Oleg indicated and leads the animal into the stables. After settling it into a stall, he moves to the doorway and looks out onto his friends sleepily eating Svetlana's stew and chatting amongst themselves. Before moving to join them, he ducks back into the stable and sits down by the door. Taking off his mask, he holds it out in his hands and looks it over. Pulling his dagger from his belt, he plunges the blade into his second face and begins to cut. A leather oval falls away to his feet as Zander finishes his work. Donning the mask again, Zander stands up and steps out of the stables. He takes a deep breath of the fresh morning breeze blowing across his lips and smiles a crooked smile for all to see.
Walking across the courtyard he keeps an eye on his companions, gauging their reactions to him. When no one seems to take special note, he sits down at the table and begins to eat Svetlana's stew. Keeping his eyes on the bowl before him, he thanks her when he finishes and heads inside the guestroom to sleep. Climbing up to a top bunk in the far corner of the room, Zander pulls off his mask, stuffing it in his belt, and dozes off to sleep.
Svetlana smiles at Jemini's praise. "It grows naturally to the south. People will pick them sometimes and I always make sure to buy them when they pass through. Oleg absolutely loves them." She giggles and pulls Jemini out by the arm. "It's awfully nice having another girl here. I have some nice soaps that I've been saving. Women rarely travel through, so I don't get much of a chance to spend time with anyone who isn't a brutish, foul-smelling male." She laughs and calls back into the house. "I was referring to you, boys!"
Zander pulls on his mask and climbs out of bed. Eager to eat more of Svetlana's cooking he seats himself at the outdoor table next to the still dozing Verik.
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Verik wakes up groggily with a table plank imprinted upon his cheek and his hair sticking out at a strange angle. He flashes Svetlana an apologetic smile and heads off to find a secluded spot. Once he is alone he cautiously strips down to his breeches and begins chanting creating water again and again until he finally feels clean and wakeful and scrubbing with the remains of the soap he got from Svetlana. Finally he shakes himself dry as best he can and reluctantly pulls back on his grimy horse smelling clothing. I need to see if Oleg has any clothing for sale, I can't even wash these without being naked - which nobody wants to see.
Heading into the guest house sniffing appreciatively, he grins broadly at Svetlana and his companions. "Ah that's the stuff alright. I've never had Moon Radish before they are delicious! If you know where they are maybe we could procure some more for you, we had ben talking about doing some exploring anyway. Is that still the plan?" He asks glancing at his comrades.
"Oh and Svetlana do you happen to have any clothing that might fit me? I really need to wash these, they smell of horse, and remind me of my pains. I'll pay of course, just something simple and servicable if you have it."
At Svetlana's shout, Taisper awakens with a start.
"...DAD!" Breathing heavily, clawing at the air, it takes him a moment to realize he is not still dreaming. He mops his brow and looks around. Jemini and Zander and Tandlara (well but Elves don't even really sleep, do they? wonder if I can ask, I'd feel ignorant, maybe Verik knows) are all gone already, and Berrin is still snoring. As his breathing returns to normal, Taisper looks down at himself, at his soaked shirt.
"Okay...today I definitely need to at least get a thorough rinse or something. Pew. Hope they don't make me eat with the horses."
Despite further calls from the courtyard, Taisper stops just outside the guest house and first doggedly, devotedly goes through his morning exercises, chanting to himself all the while, as usual. The Nightmare usually leaves him feeling groggy for the first part of the day, but maybe that would be fine. Not like I have much of an idea what we're doing next anyway. As he finishes up, the smell of stew reaches his nostrils and his stomach makes a sound normally reserved for angry ogres. Pulling on a fresh shirt -- his only spare -- Taisper jogs to the table.
"Hey 'morning everybody! This smells fantastic! Hey Verik, that was a good idea to sleep out here on the table! That way anybody sneaks up on us you'll already be ready." He shoots his cousin a smile as he tucks into breakfast. "Oh man, Svetlana, if more people knew about your cooking you'd have guests here all the time! This is amazing!" Then, looking around to see if Tandlara is in earshot; "Hey guys, hey I'm real sorry I don't know this, I hope it's not ignorant, but...do elves, uh, do they sleep? I'm too embarassed to ask Tandlara. Oh hey and also I'm gonna do more laundry when I'm done eating if anyone else has anything needs cleaning. Might mean we're all walking around in breeches and armor, but at least it'll be cleaner."
Svetlana brings out some clothes in various sizes from one of the crates in storage. "I sometimes make these in my free time. I hope you can all find something that you like. It's free, of course. We owe you so much!" She brings them out, mostly simple cloth tunics and trousers in plain colors.
With the group choosing out clothes, Ketsen sits down next to them. He addresses Jemini directly, barely paying attention to the others. "Looks like you need to decide what to do. I don't have many favors left, but I have an old friend in House Orlovsky that I can send word to. It might take a month or two for him to respond, but it's a start. I don't think it's in our best interest to jump off without laying the proper foundation for charges against the Lord Mayor."
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"Ah thank you very much Svetlana, they are perfect, it will be wonderful to have something to change into so I can keep a clean set of clothes. I must confess I got caught up in the purchase of my shiny new breastplate when setting out and foolishly had coin and thought for little else. Hmmm, that reminds me I had best take one of those tent as give it a good scrub to I've no doubt we will be doing a great deal of traveling... Oh Keys! I'm going to end up sharing a tent with Taisper..."
Taking a couple of pairs of shirts and trousers Verik sits back down and bristles as Kesten ignores the rest of the party.
"Master Kesten you might think it proper to pay no heed to non nobles, but that is not happening here. We are not risking our lives for Jemini, or for you, we are fighting with you not for you - an important distinction. And if you think you can cut us out of the decision making you can think again. Ahem. Now your plan sounds eminently sensible, I suggest that if you are prepared to protect the trade post, my comrades and I can use that time to better explore the area at hand, it would behoove us to know the terrain at hand. And of course we must think upon a course to rid ourselves of this Stag Lord. I do not like the option our prisoner presents of simply walking into his fortress... Though if that proves the only way..."
"Yes! This is every bit as good as I remember! Svetlana, you are gifted - ey Oleg! Are you a lucky man or what?"
Before unnecessary tension between Verik and Kesten can escalate, Jemini intervenes. "I'm sorry Verik, I'm sure Lord Kesten did not mean to slight you or the rest of our party. He is only picking up the conversation me and him had this morning - the two of us spent a little while discussing the appropriate way to proceed after you had left."
"I agree with Verek's assessment. This land will not be tamed by those who rush in foolhardy - a slow, methodical approach exploring the immediate region is in order. Expanding systematically until we have a good grasp of tactical features, natural resources and an overlying understanding of how to efficiently distribute the resources we have available over the land. There will be danger, but we should not underestimate the possibility to find more allies here either."
Svetlana has prepared a big tub of hot water around the main house. A secluded spot - once she shoos away one of Kesten's guards who had been standing on watch at the near wall. Jemini has little trouble convincing Svetlana to join her in the tub - which it not huge, but still provides ample room for the two to relax and laugh as they chat away and help wash each other. Oh but it is so obvious ... you love him so much ... oh don't ask about that! ... you really think so? they just feel heavy to me ... oh! hahaha! you must see this - we got it off one of the bandits on our search - Verik went soo red! ... it's so smoothe I'm jealous ... could you? thanks ... oh that feels great ... OI! if I catch one more peeping guard, cleric or brute I will give you something to peep at! ... I - we - appreciate it ... everybody needs a mom sometimes ... ah, let me help you - try just a little bit of this ... oh! Oleg won't know what hit him!
At length the two come around the house again, laughing at something mysteriously girly. Jemini is wearing a light, feminine dress that highlights her form that Svetlana had pointed out for her among the selection of clothes - Svetlana on the other hand is positively radiant and any guy she walks by notices the subtle allure of lemon scented perfume on her and a certain spring in her step.
Tandlara is up early. She opens her eyes upon the grey-lit morn and takes a deep breath. Today will be a better day,' she decides, today I will find more chances to smile. She does so just then remembering Verik's terrible joke from thre journey before. She rises then and pads outside, her shoes and fetishes and pouchs left in a very untidy pile inside the guesthouse, she wears little more than her tunic, leggings and undergarments below. She tours the fort, trying to enjoy the morning's peace, she walks along the wall, ignoring or enjoying small splinters from the wood. Her feet are not so soft, she walks on them alon often, toes and soles in connection with the world.
Though the gaurds on duty give her strange looks she smiles in her distant way at them, and passes on. She soon hops back down off the wall and goes to fetch a pail of water and some cloth. She asks Svetlana for a few lengths of linen and some sewing materials and offers to pay her for them. These procured she takes her bucket of water and hauls it to the gate where she has the unnerved looking gaurd let her out. She strolls to a hillock a few minutes walk away, her slender arms shaking somewhat at carrying the heavy bucket.
Once there she sets the bucket down with a sigh and looks south, over the Stolen Land. She begins to undress with little concern for who sees her, peeling off her travel-stained clothes, she wrinkles her nose at herself and her garments. 'Nearly as bad as how the two boys described their new leather armors,' she smiles thinking fondly of how Verik and Taispar obtained their pyjamas. They are good men, yes men, it is a disservice to think of my new freinds as children. Though I worry about Taispar, Verik will keep him on the path to the Brightness. Do humans know they seek the brightness, or is it a subconcious journey in all things?
Now fully undressed she sits in the grass beside the water and still lookig south as the sun ascends she washes herself with water from the bucket. She is thoroughly unconcious of her nudity, though Riddleskin glares north at the fort. As if daring any men to look at his mistress while she is unclad. She finishes washing and fashions simple undergarments from the new linen, taking her time and enjoying the theraputic nature of the sewing.
Eventually she is dressed again, in the same old clothes, though her older undergarements float in the bucket, she will dry them later. Though perhaps in a secluded place so poor Verik isn't scandalised. She walks back to the fort her mind and magic realigned and her flech clean.
She happily joins the small feast with the others, though Taispar shoots her a slightly guilty look like a boy who has stolen candies. She watches around her, with her faint ghost of a smile for any and all gathered. She in particular beams to see the alterations to Zander's mask.
Waking up with the smell of food in his nostrils Berrin sits up with a grunt. Flexing his shoulders to feel the afterburns of the swordslashes he suffered the morning of the attack on the outpost and notices he is the last to rise. Hearing the party converse outside Berrin is hesitant to go out, the solitude of rising alone bringing back memories to his mind. Memories both good and bad.
Sitting there with his hands in his lap Berrin seems to deflate. Sighing, images run through his mind of how he got where he was. It was funny, he thought, how life seemed to chuck him about. Whenever he got a good thing going life would put a hole in his road. Remebering his life with the Red Stripe images of his drill-sergent come to his mind, the grizzled old goat of a warrior screaming at him from behind his grey beard and eye-patch for any little thing he could find. 'Stand up straight! Polish that weapon! You call that a ditch! Are you trying to get your fellows killed! Watch your guard! Hold up your shield! Tired? I'll give you tired! To the brig!...' Berrin never understood why he always seemed to take the brunt of the old mans shouting. It wasn't as if he was the worst of the bunch. He fought well, that was for sure, he could stand his ground when most had quit, he knew that too, he could also take more punishment then most. Still, he always seemed to find his way into trouble when he got off duty. Berrin worked hard to fullfill the standard set in training and on the job, but when they werent marching or fighting Berrin knew he had a knack for getting into trouble. Remembering the old goats disaproving stare when he picked him up from jail on more than one occation for brawling or beeing to drunk to get back to camp gave Berrin a pang of shame. Left to his own devices he always seemed to earn that stare, disapointment, anger.
Melissa's screaming face floats into view. Shaking him, telling him to let go. 'Let go?' Berrin thinks in a daze as his eyes are drawn to Alda's sobbing form in the corner of the chamber. Looking around he realizes he is in her chambers, 'How..?' his brow furrows as he realizes he is sitting on someone. Looking down he sees the face of a man, his lips going blue and his tounge starting to swell. 'Who..?' images of that face contorted in perverse glee, swinging a whip to the sound of Alda's screamed cries rise to his mind with a bubbling anger. Getting up numbly he allows himself to be pushed from Alda's chamber by Melissa.
Drawing a breath with a start Berrin nearly jumps from his bed. Shacking his head to clear it he buisies himself by putting on the studded leather armor. His step quickening as he burries the memories jumping at his un-guarded, sleep-groged mind. Dressed in the armor he straps on his swoard on makes his way to the table to eat. "Mornin." he mimbles to everyone present sitting down and taking in the breath of the delicious food before setting to fill his stomach for the coming day. 'New day, new jobs.' he reminds himself, hearing the drill-sergents voice beating him on.
"I could do with some spare clothes, mam." Berrin says as he gets up from the table. "The stew was absouletly delicious mam, thank you." Selecting a pair of pants and a shirt from Svetlanas pile, he takes them to the water barrel by the stables and strips down to his loincloth to bathe in the cold water.
Dressing in the new clothes he again straps on the armor and his swoard and joins the group on the table. "Exploring the land sounds like a smart move. Knowing our surroundings better than the enemie could be the key in coming conflicts if your political manuvering goes sour." he pipes in on Jemini's and Kessen's discussion. "But let's not forgett the lady waiting in chains, now. We have a ticket into the Stag Lords keep and frankly I think it's folly not to cash in on that ticket as soon as we can. Knowing the lay of the land will be useless if we keep getting hounded by someone who knows it better than we do."
Taisper is gathering laundry as Jemini and Svetlana walk by. The scent of lemons tickles his nostrils. "Svetlana! Hey you smell...uh..." Catching a somewhat-inscrutable (at least it is to the naive inquisitor) look from Jemini he abandons the thought midway. "...reallyreallygreatheybutI"mdoinglaundrysothanksagainforbreakfast!" He then heads back to what is now essentially a designated Laundry Barrel.
Berrin is cleaning his armor and weaponry as the well-scented ladies walk by, looking up from polishing grime and oiling his armor to ward off rust he watches them saunter past . The swishing skirts and girlish smiles make Berrin stop and stare for a moment, shacking his head he picks up a whetstone and sets it to his longsword.
After giving Taisper a meaningful glare - which he thankfully responded in just the right way - Jemini proceeds on. Clearly satisfied with a smug grin on her face Jemini makes herself comfortable with Berrin at the central table. "You're a late riser, ey Berrin? I don't blame you - there's something about relaxing and sleeping at a place that you're cared for that makes sleep sink in deep."
As the conversation drifts to various topics it inevitably covers the Stag Lord as well, "I'm not sure he's specifically interested in hunting us down; at least for now. Kressle and Happs were acting against Oleg's with their own interests at heart. And the Stag Lord himself is according to our chained friend a drunkard and a slob. I guess that means that anything might go through his head - but most likely the desire to have another drink."
"I feel that our priority right now should be the exploration of the lands. The Stag Lord is hopefully a smaller fish to fry than the Lord Mayor - so we'll get to him first. But that gives us a month at least to consolidate our position here at Oleg's."
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Verik who is under his bed organizing the newly expanded contents of his pack, "That's my take to, he may be a rogue that needs to be dealt with, but he did not initiate the assault so I would say he can wait for the time being." He calls voice slightly muffled, before backing out from beneath the bed and standing.
His hair mussed and still slightly damp he pats it rigorously down back into place, the pats slowing comically as his eyes alight on Jemini in her dress. "Keys, you look lovely Miss Jemini." He says in a slightly dreamy voice. He pats himself on the head one last time, his eyes widen slightly - in panick - and his cheeks pinken.
"AhifyouwillexcusemeIthinkIshouldgoandcleanthetentsnotimelikethepresentrigh t. HahaI'lljustbegoingpleaseexcuseme!" He offers bolting for the doorway.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, ahhh! Keys and cogs! Could you be anymore of an awkward buffoon Verik Bartholemew Jarrow. Stupid! He hurries around the corner of the guest house and leans against the wall, rhythmically smacking his head - softly - against it for a few moments, which for some reason makes him feel better.
Berrin stops his work for a moment as Jemini sits herself down, admiering her beuty. "Good dress. It suits you, fits you nicely." he comments.
Shrugging he continues sharpening his longsword, working out the notch it got from the blow to Kressel. "Aye, it's good sleeping knowing someone's watching your back." he agrees.
"I'm not arguing the importance of exploring. On the contrary, we're in full agreement there." he says turning the sword in his hands, examening the edge. Nodding in satisfaction his sheathes it and picks up the hand axe aquired from Kressel and sets to work on it. "I don't realy know nobles. I suspect theyr games are dangerous and layered so I'll have to trust your's and Kesen's judgement in that regard, but I do know bandits." he pauses, looking Jemini in the eye, gauging her reactions to that. Back to the axe he continues; "My concern is this; If the Stag Lord hears about us taking out a pair of his lieutenants I'm afraid he'll concider us a threat. See, he rules through fear and streangth of arm. Along comes us and start throwing our weight around and suddenly his dominion is threatened. Some folk think; 'Hey! He's loosing it! and start giving lip or ignoring orders and 'Bam! he's loosing control."
Stopping in his work he leans over, staring Jemini in the eye, "So, what's got me worried is that you might be down playing the threat the Stag Lord is, or downplaying our own threat to his rule? I just need you to understand that he will come after us if we don't get him first. Anything I know of folk like him tells me that. So the question is; What to do with our couple of months we have before the turd hits the fence with out goo Lord Mayor? Explore and wait, or concolidate our postition in these parts? Do you see my line of throught?"
Jemini smiles as she watches Verik round the corner at some speed. "Priests are a funny bunch, don't you think?" Her smile broadens as she seems to laugh at an inner dialogue, "Let me extend that statement to men in general." She beams at Berrin, "And thank you. Svetlana really knows how to bring the most out of the ingredients she has available. I'm glad she's here; also helps put a smile on Oleg's face. Can't imagine what he'd do without her."
"Right, you're right. But there are many possibilities here that we do not know yet. Maybe it will turn out that the Stag Lord will become a powerful ally. He might invite us to become his new lieutenants. Or he's a raving lunatic that will invite us to a masked ball, deer masks and all. But you're right. Currently we need to think of him as a threat that needs to be dealt with in the short term. Kessen expects the initial arrangements with Orlovsky to take two months - and that will just be the ground work for bigger things to follow - so ideally we should have the Stag Lord resolved in that time. I suggest we take the first month for the purpose of exploration; then in the second follow up on the Stag Lord."
When the food is brought out, Zander hungrily begins to stuff his face, thoroughly enjoying the new design of his mask. As the others join him at the table he nods greetings, but continues to focus on his food.
In response to Taisper's question about Elves, Zander replies, "I'm pretty sure I saw Tandlara sleeping while we were camped. I too have heard stories of Elves that don't need to sleep though, but I believe those were mostly ancient Elves from many ages ago living in Realms that time has Forgotten."
When the table is joined by the Garess man, Zander avoids eye contact, but listens to him speak. At the mention of House Orlovsky, he almost chokes on a moon radish, but does his best to cover his reaction.
Thankfully Verik's outburst draws attention away and he is able to excuse himself from the table and withdraw to the stable. Once alone he gives in to his thoughts, 'House Orlovsky? This could be bad... I'm sure they wouldn't come all the way down here from Eagle's Watch though... Yes, I'm sure it will be fine. Have to watch this Garess man though. Can't let him know too much.'
As his thoughts race, his eyes settle on a nearby bale of hay and an idea sprouts in his mind. He hoists one of the bales on his shoulders and heads to the open area behind the storage room. After repeating the process and stacking the second bale on the first, he rushes into the storage room and rummages around until he is able to find some parchment and some charcoal to draw with. Sitting on the dirt floor, he scratches out a crude series of circles and once finished, holds it out in front of himself and grins at his work.
Pinning the makeshift bullseye to the hay bale with his dagger, Zander heads back to the breakfast table, grabbing a spare longbow out of the loot cart on his way, and looks around for Taisper, finding him washing his clothes in the laundry barrel a few yards away. Taking slow steady breaths as he walks up to the inquisitor, he draws close and exclaims, "Hey umm, Taisper, would you want to give one of these longbows a try? If you have time, that is, once you're finished with your laundry..."
"Ally? Us, his lieutenants?" Berrin says incredulously. "I don't think so princess. He's a drunken brute who will kill you if you don't agree with him. I'm pretty sure we won't be agreeing with him on more than one account if your earlyer discussions on crime and punishment are any indication."
"Ok fine." Berrin holds up a hand before Jemini can interject, "We have some time, I'll give you that. But shouldn't we use it to explore on the way to his hide-out instead of our imediate surroundings. It would be a trip of two to three weeks if we spend the time gettin familiar with the land as we move through it. But mark my words; He will be hearing of us in the next few days, if he hasn't already, and he's not gona be thrilled with what he hears. A cocamany version from a bandit begging for his life. We'll be eight feet tall vielding lightning swoards and breathing fire before the rumors are done with us."
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Verik seeks out the tents and carefully drapes them over the walls of the stockade procuring a brush if he. He then begins drenching them with torrents of created water and vigorously scrubbing with the remains of the soap. After rinsing the last of the suds from the canvas he leaves them to dry in the sun.
He takes a long look at the guest house, but finds his cheeks heating as his treacherous mind produces guilt inducing memories of revealed curves and the scent of lemon. Sighing he turns away and moves of to take inventory of the items they procured from the bandits and seek out Oleg to discuss terms for disposing of them profitably. Book keeping was always good to suppress his inate idiocy numbers being clean, neat, and unstimulating - well, for the most part.
"Oh granted - I don't think we'd accept becoming his lieutenants. Unless there are some serious twists in the conspiracy we've found ourselves in. And you're quite right - we will get afoul of the Stag Lord too soon for my liking. Before we're ready for him certainly."
"On the other hand - we're talking about a man that frightens people like Happs and Kressle. With the people that raided Oleg's that outpost numbered more than dozen bandits. Probably a couple more such outposts exist - and in the center we have the Stag Lord's fortress. We cannot believe everything Kressle says, but the (what 20? 30?) bandits manning that fortress are all of the same caliber as Kressle and Happs. Vicious people that are really good at killing - and they all fear the Stag Lord, who at all accounts is even better at killing."
"Even if we suppose that Kressle can take us into the fortress through a secret entrance - and that she doesn't betray us at that point in time: we will be in the middle of a dangerous man's kingdom with bits of leather and metal to protect us."
"Unfortunately it will almost definitely come down to that scenario anyway. I just hope to find enough time to count on additional allies and resources by then. Though, I doubt we will have the luxury of an army to lay siege to his castle..."
Berrin shrugs, conceding to Jemini's points. "Maybee we shouls be including Kressel in this discussion. Have her draw us a map outlining his defences and such."
"But you'll pardon me for having dificulty picturing a full-blown castle out her ruled by a drunkard with an animal-skull fetish. More likely it's some run-down ruin with plenty of hiding places and correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't Kressel say he only allowed his closest lieutenants close?"
"We'll if Happs and Kressel are one of them then why weren't they at the fort? My guess is he's mostly, or entierly, alone in his house. The sound of the man suggests he's not much for companie, accepting tithing in booze mostly."
"You raise a good point," Jemini walks over to the impromptu prison, seeing Kressle making herself as comfortable as conditions allow. "Good evening Kressle - I hope you've received at least a little bit of Svetlana's cooking; it's probably considerably better than the fare you had back at the camp. ...I've come to ask a simple question: the fort that the Stag Lord calls his home. How should I imagine it? Patched up ruins manned by forty-odd bandits?"
Taisper, satisfied things aren't excessively soapy in the wash barrel, waves as Zander approaches. "Zander! Hey! Hi, oh that'd be great! The laundry can just sit for a while, now, you know, I don't need to be hanging around by it. Let me grab one of those bandit bows and some arrows. This is so great, thanks! Thanks a whole bunch! So what are we gonna shoot at?"
Kressle looks up at Jemini, looking less pleased than before but also less hostile. She clears her throat. "It's an old tower on the lake. It isn't really that well-taken care of, except for the walls. He's been fixing it up, but it's not like there's a glut of skilled labor around here. There's usually less than a dozen bandits, though most are better trained and equipped than the morons I was saddled with. Of course, if he catches word that you're coming, he can get a few dozen more in a matter of days. There are about two or three hundred overall in the organization, divided into groups of ten to twenty.'
"Thank you Kressle - that helps a lot," on her way back Jemini makes sure to have some fresh bread and a bit of moon radish soup brought to the prisoner. She explains to the people at the table, "The Stag Lord commands a few hundred bandits - though only about a dozen of his elites are at the fortification most of the time. Though if he's worried about us that can quickly escalate to several dozen." She explains more of what Kressle has said, closing with, "I'm not sure, but it might work to our advantage to not have him think us a threat. Any failed attempt to bring him to justice will mean that a couple hundred bandits will be on our trail like bloodhounds."
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Verik, having tagged along unobtrusively when he saw Berrin and Jemini heading over to the impromptu stockade, nods slowly. "Hmm, a slow exploratory advance towards him might be in order then. Better to hit him before he knows we are coming. But we also need more practice working together as a unit, twelve experienced bandits and their leader would likely be beyond us at this point. If he has so many bands roaming about perhaps we might look to strike a few on the way."
Looking to Kessel he asks, "Do you know where any of the other bands are likely to be?"
Walking towards the impromptu target range, Zander replies, "I set up a target out back here. Not quite professional quality, but it should do for now."
Once they reach the range, Zander pulls out his own bow and casually fires off a shot from about 40 feet away,
It lands within the outer ring with a solid 'thunk' sound. Zander smiles and hands Taisper the bandit bow and an arrow, "Here, you give it a shot."
"Seriously? You want to give him a chance to think about it?" he says in surprise to Jemini. "And thers a differance between a dozen and half a dozen Verik. It could be the difference between our life and death frankly."
Holding up a finger for Jemini he walks back to Kressel. "How long would the journey to his tower take?" he asks her.
After watching Zander hit the target, Taisper nods, nocks an arrow, and fires, hitting the hay bale but missing the target by a fair bit. Exhaling harshly he looks at the masked archer and gives him a sheepish grin. "What can I say, Zander, you make it look real easy. Lemme try another one." Nocking a second arrow, Taisper tries again, this time at least hitting the outer ring. With a determined look he fires once more, hitting the same ring. "Well, at least I'm consistent, I guess? I can definitely feel how it's a lot faster. I'll, uh, I'll keep this and keep practicing as long as no one else wants it." He looks at the longbow, feeling its weight.
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Verik frowns at Berrin and says slowly his voice slightly tart, "Yes Berrin, but she said less than a dozen, which is twelve, well eleven or less really I suppose, but I like to prepare for the worst... Not less than a half dozen, so I'm not sure how that is relevant." The young cleric is obviously a little piqued to be challenged on numbers - which he considers his providence.
"But, yes I think it sensible to begin heading that way, exploring as we go. If we feel unprepared by the time we approach we can always abort in any case."
"I imagine that is as fair as we are going to get it. Though we'll have to hope that the Stag Lord does not get wind that we are heading towards him one day at a time." Jemini goes on to ask Kressle for a few more details.
Kressle scoffs a little bit. "It's not like there's a map. If I had to guess, it's about sixty miles or so to the south of here, maybe a few miles west. Could be a little more. Easiest way to find it is to follow the Thorn River downstream, then follow the lake south. Might take a while longer, but can't really go wrong that way."
Tandlara watches the proceedings, her eyes swinging from Berrin to Jemini, and after awhile Verik while the other two go off to use the bow. That makes her smile, one of her rare happy memories of youth floating into her head. She had always enjoyed archery.
'I'm afraid Berrin that I have to agree with the other's point. Though perhaps we should take a party vote?'
"Well I vote to go for the throat. Take out the Stag Lord and we will throw the bandits of the area into disaray. They will be fighting eachother as much as us with none strong enough to assume the mantle of lord." Berrin nods, sure in his opinion.
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"Well don't we all agree that moving towards the Stag Lord, but taking time to explore as we go is our desired course. Or are you saying you want to head straight there without exploration Berrin? Verik asks.
]b]"We have three tents, which I suggest we take, the horses. We should probably take some writing implements so we can take a stab at mapping the area. Plenty of trail rations, I can take care of water. So should we set off today? Seems a shame to forgo a bed and Svetlana's cooking, but an extra half day..."[/b]
Watching Taisper shoot, Zander says, "Not bad. Keep at it and you'll get it down." Hearing raised voices coming from the others, he continues, "Perhaps we should go back and see what they're arguing about. Hopefully your cousin is laying into the Lebeda woman some more; I must admit I didn't think much of him at first, but he's tougher than he looks."
Unless Taisper objects, Zander puts away his bow and heads back towards the table to join in on the debate.
"You asked for my vote, I gave it." Berrin says to Verik. "I would prefere to head straight for him, without stop. But I'd settle for a slower approch if you insist." Looking around the group he waits for the rest of the party to cast their votes.
'I'm afraid patience is my way Berrin, I vote for exploration. We can get the lay of the land, and see if there are more who dislike the Stag Lords rulership. We may find allies more trustworthy than a captured bandtiress.' Tandlara shrugs her shoulders, sitting corss-legged on one of the benches, stroking Riddleskin in her lap.
Quickly gathering what the others are discussing, Zander weighs in, "I too vote exploration. We have no indication the Stag Lord is even interested in us. It would be foolish to strike at him and get his attention before we are ready."
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"Right well I think that settles it. Now do we want an extra night of Svetlana's cooking, or do we want to set off as soon as everyone can get ready? I am for getting going, otherwise I might get a bit too comfortable and I figure that my low extremities are partly numbed right now, if we wait much longer that horse will be the end of me." Verik says cheerfully, rubbing his posterior and wincing theatrically.
Back at the hay bale, Taisper agrees with Zander's assessment of his cousin. "Verik's got a lot of heart and ferocity, and he's a real talented caster. I think a lot of people underestimate him. That'll be their last mistake. Then, hearing the same conversation Zander does, Taisper nods and follows to where the rest of the party is talking. Catching only the tail end of the conversation, Taisper holds his peace for the moment, since it sounds like a consensus has already been reached.
"I don't mind if we stay or go - but I think it is important to decide if we should take Kressle along or not. Personally I think she's safest here; and if we need to get hold of her again before we head for the Stag Lord himself - then I think traveling a day or two to get back and forth will be fine."