The morning air was cool and crisp, the sun's brightness shining from the lack of clouds in the sky. It was around mid morning and the party were now approaching the trading post ran by Oleg. They carried on their persons a writ from the Swordlords of Restov declaring their mission:
Be it so known that the bearer of this charter has been charged by the Swordlords of Restov, acting upon the greater good and authority vested within them by the office of the Regent of the Dragonscale Throne, has granted the right of exploration and travel within the wilderness region known as the Greenbelt. Exploration should be limited to an area no further than thirty-six miles east and west and sixty miles south of Oleg’s Trading Post. The carrier of this charter should also strive against banditry and other unlawful behavior to be encountered. The punishment for unrepentant banditry remains, as always, execution by sword or rope. So witnessed on this 24th day of Calistril, under watchful eye of the Lordship of Restov and authority granted by Lord Noleski Surtova, current Regent of the Dragonscale Throne.
The cart the Swordlords provided is drawn by a stubborn mule called Block, who whines as they road ever-so-slightly changes pitch as you all draw near the closed gate. A ringing of hammer blows can be heard as you get close...
As the cart drew to a dusty halt before the closed gate, Rowena listened to the beating hammer just beyond it. She searched for a guard to grant them leave to enter, and, to open the gate so they could proceed within.
In a slightly raised (to be heard over the hammering) albeit melodic voice, she respectfully petitioned,
"Pardon me. My companions and I have been sanctioned by the Swordlords of Restov to speak with Master Oleg. May we enter this establishment?"
Sheoll had preferred to walk along side the cart as the rest of the group traveled. It was a bit less crowded and he liked the feel of the earth beneath his feet, and the blood pushing through his veins.
His travelling cloak was worn and frayed, and it had been some time since he had a cooked meal, and was eagerly awaiting that. Pulling the cowl from his head, he nodded at the slight woman as she called out to the proprietor.
His clothes were worn as well, and the lamelar leather he wore was recognizably of Osirioni make, but without the gold or copper inlays they often had. The greatsword on his back was similarly "worn in" sporting several deep scratches in the steel. He adjusted the strap on his back and approached the gate.
Rapping on the wood twice with the bottom of his fist he called out as well.
"Hail. Can you hear us? We need to speak with Oleg."
The ride to Oleg's trading post was not unpleasant for Tassira--the air blowing her tied hair back and the sun shining down on her came as a relief compared to the crowded, overly warm heat of Restov. The Lord Mayor was kind enough to give her a commission, but she was more than surprised by the company she found herself in.
First, there was Alexander: a cousin to her family, and according to her brother Gustav, a trustworthy person who wields sword and spell with equal skill. A friendly enough sort, she supposed--he's family, at least. It was one of the reasons the Lord Mayor sent him with the party.
Next was Cadell Garess. She had pondered for a moment what he was doing in the Lord Mayor's office--she had occasionally noticed him at parties where her father would parade her about. On the few occasions she saw him, he was clad in the colours of House Garess, but if their house motto--"Strong as the Mountains"--was any indication, he was the family black sheep by virtue of his slender build. Still, if the Lord Mayor said he should go with them, she'd trust his judgement.
After all he did send with them Sheoll, the taciturn, golden-eyed warrior from parts unknown. The Lord Mayor's motives for sending him with them were almost insultingly transparent--the man was terrifying to be around, and if the rumours of him being a brigand were any indication, he was more than capable of holding his own in a fight. It was entirely likely the Lord Mayor was desperate to get him out of town as soon as he could.
Perhaps that's why he chose Rowena, the priestess of Erastil, to accompany the party into the Stolen Lands--a level-headed, approachable person to balance Sheoll's intimidating presence. Her softly-spoken words, chock full of respect and politeness, showed just how stable she is... it made Tassira envy her, in a good way.
And finally, her. A Medvyed sorceress with ties to the fey (if you listened to the rumours). Tassira didn't know what the rest of her companions thought of her, but she was determined to do the best she could, for all of them.
With that, when Rowena and Sheoll went to the gate, Tassira went with them. Having seen how well the two introduced them, she was content to let them handle the talking for now.
As Rowena waited to hear some acknowledgement of her request, she stole a quick glance at the two travelling companions standing beside her. She wordlessly marvelled at how short/small she was in comparison to them both, especially in contrast to the woman named Tassira. Rowena had never met such a tall human woman before, yet it seemed to lend something more to her already unique beauty. The warrior, Sheoll, was imposing in every manner of the word, that it caught her breath. Yet, the petite priestess held her head high and kept a steady, assured countenance. If only Mother Senka could see me now, Rowena inwardly contemplated. Erastil, grant me composure and grace as I enter, in your name, and undertake this task.
Alexander leaves the others to demand entrance as he dismounts from the cart and steps back to scan the walls and surrounding area to take in the situation. should be safe but can't assume anything in these wild back lands. Alexander takes a cavalier stance near the rear of the cart but continues his vigil.
The hammering ceases, and several moments later a thudding noise can be heard. A moment later, the door to the outpost opens. A well built man with mutton chop sideburns and a heavy sweat stands before them.
"Swordlord business? What now? More lumber or something. I'm sorry, the woodsmen haven't been in recently, something about whispers in the wind or something." He looks over the group and raises an eyebrow. "But from the looks of you lot, you aren't here for lumber. Come in, I guess." He stands back, allowing the party in. The post is pretty well maintained, if not overly laden with wares.
A moment later, a woman in her mid thirties steps out with a large pot of stew and sets it on the table near the group. "Welcome! Welcome! You all must be hungry. Please, sit down, I'll be right back with the bread and something to drink." And she dashes back into the home. The man who first met you all sighs and looks back.
"Name's Oleg. I run this post." He then walks off, going to a ladder that is leaning against building A2, climbing it and setting back to fixing a hole in it. He looks back and speaks up so you all can hear. "So, you the lot sent by the Lord Mayor to help out around these parts?"
The activity, once the gate was opened and they were ushered into the courtyard, was hurried as the proprietor spoke and moved about and a serving woman came and set dish to table. "Thank you, Mistress, for this hearty fare", was all Rowena could get in before the generous woman rushed away to bring the drink. I will ask her name once she returns.
Rowena did not know what to answer first...yet managed to start with her name.
"Well met, Master Oleg. I am Priestess Rowena Hunter, and we were indeed sent here, to explore and aid, by the Lord Mayor." Rowena bestowed a warm smile upon the bustling proprietor, giving her companions time to collect themselves and speak.
Alexander relaxes on the inside seeing the two, well at least one welcoming face and moves to block taking his reins in hand and leads the stubborn mule into the trading post. Catching Oleg's last statement Alexander finally speaks up "In a way. We are charged with taking to task any bandits we should find however our primary purpose is exploration of these lands. Why is their some specific trouble we should be aware of?"
At Alexander's congenial voice, Rowena relaxed a little and sat down on the wooden bench. It was good that he thought to take care of the mule and cart. The stubborn creature had slipped her mind entirely with Oleg's remarks about lumber and woodsmen and the woman carrying out the food. Be more attentive of all things, Rowena!
With hands cradled in lap, Rowena swiftly composed herself, and waited to hear Oleg's answer regarding possible disturbance in the area.
Tassira follows Oleg inside and takes a seat, eying the stewpot. She tries her hardest to ignore the rumbling in her stomach as she takes a bowl and spoon and serves herself a portion.
"Like Sister Hunter and Alexander said--we're here to provide whatever aid we can." Tassira says, her voice clear and proper. "May I ask what is wrong? Your trading post appears to be doing well for itself."
She glances at Rowena as she speaks, briefly sniffing before turning her attention back to Oleg. I really should learn to speak up sooner...
"Oh, and before I forget--my name is Tassira. Tassira Vantyev. This is Sister Rowena, Sheoll Blackflame, Alexander Medvyed and Cadell Garess." Tassira points to each person in turn as she introduces them.
Sheoll only took a moment to enter the outpost, waiting for the others to urge Block the mule through the gates.
Immediately, he moved to the table, standing over the pot, letting the steam wash over his face, and taking in the scent of the warm stew. He stopped himself from uncouthly sticking his hand into the pot and ladling it directly into his mouth with his hand. Instead he removed his sword from his back and took a seat and looked back to the others, seeing if they would do the same.
With out looking up, he responded to Oleg.
"The holy gi...woman speaks truth." He paused for a moment and looked over at her, taking in her appearance again. He patted the charter tucked into his belt.
"What's this about woodsmen?" He said more pointedly than he had intended. He was still getting used to speaking to "civilized" folk. Although the he didn't much miss the group of bandits he had been travelling with in the past, he had gotten used to the way they spoke to each other.
As Alexander brushes down Block he raises his head in response to his name as Tassira points out each of the group in turn mentally kicking himself at the lapse in protocol Yes Thank you for remedying my terrible manors cousin. I am Alexander Medvyed of house Medvyed. Alexander returns to his task but can't help but look to the table where everyone else is preparing to eat.
He quashes a frown that appears momentarily on his face. They don't have a military background so they haven't needed to worry about camp discipline. I need to introduce a little of that to the group it may save lives in the future but I need to do it eloquently this isn't a bunch of Medvyed soldiers I can just command and they snap to. Maybe if I approach Rowena or Tassira about it they will understand my concerns and help me talk with the others.
She tilted her head, ruminating on why Tassira introduced her when Rowena had made her own introductions to Oleg just moments before. Perhaps the tall woman had not heard, or, simply chosen to include her name along with the others. She is noble born and bred. Perhaps they do things differently to common folk. There is so much I do not know about my travelling companions.
The priestess sat quietly upon the bench, not yet partaking of the warm food, waiting for the serving woman to return and the others to fill their bowl. Rowena was accustomed to serving herself last to ensure any other at the table had enough to eat.
Rowena watched Alexander as he worked and respected the man's initiative and labour. When the unknown woman returned with bread and drink, she would offer to help in some way -- for it was the right thing to do. Their arrival was unforeseen and the woman should not be expected to serve them all. I will help her clear the table once we are done eating as a show of gratitude. Rowena gave a brisk nod to validate her intention.
As they are riding up to the trading post Cadell's horse starts to rear and buck, trying to dislodge his rider.
Cadell easily manages to keep his seat and bring the fractious animal back under control, but by then introductions are done and the others have moved through the gate into the trading posts yard. Cadell follows and dismounts. Cadell grabs the bay geldings bridle and pulls the horses head around to look at him. The gelding jerks it's head and tries to bite buy Cadell sees it coming strikes the horse between the eyes with his fist. We've been over this before stupid. he tells the horse. I am in charge and if you pull a stunt like that again I am gonna turn you into boot leather. He hits the horse again for good messure, and then turns to Oleg.
Hello! Sorry about that. He's got a mean streak a mile wide and if I give him an inch he will try to take off my arm. Did they introduce me? I'm Cadell Garess, formerly of house Garess. He says to to man on the roof. Could you use a hand?
Cadell is a lean young man of medium height. His shoulder lenght black hair is pulled back in a que at the nape of his neck. his aquiline nose is slightly crooked from having been broken and badly set. He is dressed in Knee high leather boots, Blue dyed leather breeches, a white linen shirt and a high collared black leather vest. A grey scarf is wrapped around his waist with his sword belt over it. the collar of his vest is embroidered with silver thread. The rapier hanging at this left side is plain servicable weapon. the only decoration is the crest of house Garess engraved on the pomell. The dagger hanging with his belt pouch on the right is matched to the rapier.
Oleg slows his hammering and looks down at you all. "Names and all are nice, but you don't know about the troubles me and misses been in? I sent that letter to the Swordlords and the Lord Mayor nearly a month ago after the last time! And it takes them this long to send someone and they don't even know of the problem?" He huffs and climbs down the ladder, shaking some with anger.
"For nearly four months now come tomorrow, these damnable bandits have been riding up, taking my finest wares and coin, threatening me and Svetlana, and keeping business from going no where!" He throws his hands up and starts for the house. "And explore! What? A stretch o' land worth barely having 'cept to say you have? I left that wretched city for... Gods above, damn me now!" He steps in the house with growl as Svetlana steps out, a small basket of bread and a bottle of wine in hand.
"Why is he upset? You all are here to help right? Not just traders?"
Rowena was not convinced that hitting a horse was going to improve its general temperament. There were mean-spirited people all over this vast land but others did not go about hitting them in the head. She decided she'd have a private word with Cadell sometime soon on the matter.
At Oleg's heated outburst, Rowena empathised with the proprietor -- bandits were a bane on the land and to good folk -- yet she wondered why he felt so disillusioned at the presence of their current company.
The woman who served us the food must be Svetlana, Oleg's wife. She noted the name to memory.
In calm, steady voice, Rowena addressed the lady of the house,
"Mistress Svetlana, our apologies. We are tasked with providing aid and not passing traders. Master Oleg was sharing your current misfortunes involving the brigands -- and he became agitated over the situation and the lack of assistance in the matter. Understandable, of course. It is not our intent to add to your troubles. We simply seek information with which to help."
"Can you tell us, please, when the last bandit attack was made on your trading post? Master Oleg spoke of their repeated raids over the past four months."
Alexander stops for a moment following Oleg's outburst and answers Svetlana's question with Oleg's hasty exit. Svetlana? Alexander continues to rub down block as he takes a moment to compose his thoughts. I believe that Oleg is simply frustrated. We are going to help it is one of the responsibilities set down in our charter and I am happy to defend hard working people like yourself.
Alexander nods towards Rowena as he continues to speak. However as Rowena said we are not aware of the specifics you have been suffering under and our primary orders where originally to explore the lands to the east, west and south of this trading post. Do not worry though that can wait until we have taken care of those that have been harassing you. You have my word as a Medvyed on that!
Sheoll simply raised an eyebrow as the proprietor, Oleg, stormed off in frustration. He knew how ruthless bandits could be at times, and that was one of the reasons he had left them. Giving in to heartlessness at every turn was simply not good for the spirit. He had tired of preying on the less fortunate. There was a time when he did it simply because he had no other means, but the crew he traveled with had become more and more ruthless in their attacks as time went on, and stealing became a pleasure for them. That simply would not stand.
He nodded at Rowena and Alexander. Then looked to Oleg's wife, Svetlana.
"We will help indeed."
He takes the wine from the woman, and taking a pull from the bottle, holds it out so that someone else may partake.
"Rowena Hunter has a good question. If they have been here many times, they will likely come again. Especially if they keep finding more to take. Do you know what direction they come from? "
Sheoll then folded his arms across his chest and looked towards the gate, awaiting Svetlana's answer or Oleg's return. If he was to become a part of a true and proper tribe of folk that watched each other's back for more than selfish reasons, showing strength and determination was a good place to start.
I just wanted to help him repair the roof. Cadell says to himself with a frown. He turns back to his horse and begins to unsaddle and rub down the animal. As he works he frequently has to dodge bites and kicks. When he finishes caring for his animal he joins the conversation with Oleg's wife.
may be we could set an ambush for them. We have three good blades and a master of the arcane arts. We shouldn't have any trouble.
Tassira nods at Svetlana, letting Oleg take his leave. "We'll do all we can to put an end to the bandit raids." She holds her cup out for Sheoll to pour her some wine before starting to eat the stew.
Cadell's compliment makes her blush. "No pressure, right?"
and a priestess of Erastil. The blessings of Old Deadeye is nothing to discount. Alexander gives a nod and shy smile to Rowena.
"With that in mind..." Tassira takes another sip of her stew. "Lovely stew, by the way--we'll need to have a plan in case the bandits decide to arrive while we're making preparations." She taps a finger against the table. "May I ask where a good place to keep watch is?"
Rowena looked across to Alexander and returned his smile and gently inclined her head at his gracious inclusion. She ladled some of the stew into a bowl for Alexander and placed it on the table for when he was done with the mule. She waited until all the others had served themselves before taking a small portion of the fragrant stew and a piece of the crusty bread for herself. The priestess said a quiet prayer to Erastil before taking a bite.
Sheoll watched in silence for a minute or two as Rowena inclined her head and said her words to her god. He recalled his youth, and how each night the tribesfolk would stop when the brightest star was overhead and close their eyes. Raising their hands, they would begin a soft hum that steadily rose in volume. The words they shouted at the end of the prayer were the only ones he know from his mother's native Hallit tongue. "Black. Star. Strength." They echoed in his mind and he remembered how his mother's voice seemed to carry so much more than the others.
He looked back to the to the others, thinking about what they would bring, and realized he knew some, but not much about them. But what better way to bring folk together than battle?
"Aye. One would think we should be capable of handling some bandits with blessings, steel and sorcery. As far as keeping watch, I suspect the roof that Oleg was working on is a good enough vantage point."
He frowns, and reaches over to the table and grabs the large sword, gripping the pommel in his hand. Returning it to its place leaning against the table, he ladled himself some stew.
"I would say we should go looking for them. If the tracks are fresh enough, it shouldn't be that difficult...on the other hand, they could return while we are out, and that would defeat the purpose of protecting this place.
True Sheoll its best we gain as much information as we can before committing to a plan of action. turning back to Svetlana Alexander urges their hostess to answer the questions. Please all that you can tell us of these bandits would be helpful.
Svetlana nods at the group, though a look of worry is still on her face. "Any help is better than none, I suppose." She sets the wine and bread down before sitting down.
"About 4 months ago, shortly after Oleg and I got the post properly running, we saw some folks coming in from the south. We opened the gate thinking thet were traders, but they no sooner got in the gate and had their swords drawn. They said we owed 'taxes' to be operating the post, that they were here to collect. They took almost all the coin we had, some of our best wares that was supposed to be sold to the local trappers and woodsmen. And their leader..." The woman shakes a little, a mix of fear and anger about her. "He said if Oleg ever failed to pay, I'd be the tax."
A tear begins to roll down her cheek before she looks up at the party. "They came again 2 more times, first of every month. Took what they wanted, threatened us, humiliated us. Oleg is a good and proud man, but he isn't stupid. He knows he can't just leave, they'd ruin or dream with the trade post. But we can't stay without help, so we sent a letter out for help. We were told we were getting soldiers, maybe even a swordlord's apprentice."
Swallowing further tears, she looks around and then at the soup. "Please, eat up. No sense letting it cool. And... Thank you for wanting to help."
Alexander takes on a thoughtful look the smile he had been wearing turning to a hard line hand holding his chin. Considering the time of month and their regular arrivals, I take it that you expect them to arrive soon. His words seems more to himself then directed at Svetlana before he comes back with a more intense business like look and a tone to match. I know it maybe hard but can you recall any specific details of these bandits. Their numbers, if they approached riding or walking? Do you recall any other weapons they may have carried and can you describe their leader?
Sheoll nodded in agreement. He wondered how many of the outlaws plagued Oleg and Svetlana and frowned at the woman's tears. He understood Oleg's frustration better now, knowing he surely wanted to fight back, but feared for his wife's saftey, and had been biding his time till help arrived. After the second month he must have wondered if help was coming at all.
"If they return soon they'll find that they can no longer attempt to take what is not theirs without consequences."
He put his hand on Svetlana's shoulder as a show of reassurance.
"It will not happen again. "
Svetlana looks to the young Medvyed man and nods. "They'll probably be here before mid-morning tomorrow. As for the other stuff, there was about a dozen of them the first time or two. This last time there were about 8 of them, led by a rather crude woman."
She thinks for a moment and looks at Alexander. "They all rode horses, but they all dressed about the same. Leathers and old clothes. I'm no expert on weapons, but they had swords and a few had bows. Is that helpful?"
Tassira sighs. She's not certain whether to be relieved or incensed--she's not used to her questions being ignored.
"Excuse me, Svetlana, but is there a place where we can keep a lookout for the bandits?" She asks, more insistently than last time.
Turning to Sheoll, she's amazed such a hard looking man, one who would more likely to scare folks than fill them with a sense of calm. But calm he gives her. "Thank you, sir...?"
Turning to the young sorceress, Svetlana ponders for a moment. "Well, we have the spots up on the rampart, and I guess you could hide behind the buildings. Oleg can show you the best spots, probably."
And at that, Oleg reappears, a set of old leather armor on and a longbow in hand. Svetlana's eyes go large and she rushes to him. He looks at her and speaks up. "I may not be much, but I can kill at least a few before they get to the gates!"
Svetlana shakes her head and nearly pushes her husband down. "Now listen here! I will not go losing my husband. These fine folks said they're gonna help, so you help them get ready and no more thinking about bringing out your bow, hear?"
Tassira nods, relieved that Svetlana answered her question. Seeing Oleg walk out kitted out in leather armour and a bow makes her drum her fingers on the table before finishing her stew.
"Perhaps a direct confrontation may be averted--if they decide to stage a direct attack, I can put at least some of their number to sleep." She looks down at her bowl. "Hopefully. Now..." She looks back up, glancing around at her companions. "...is there anything we can do to prepare this place for a bandit visit?"
Cadell takes a hunk of bread and bowl of soup and sits listening while the others talk.
I don't think anyone has the right to tell a man he can't defend his own home. Not even his wife, my lady. Cadell says softly. I have been listening to the conversation, and I think that we want them coming in the gate. We want them to come into the yard here like everything is normal, and then we trap them and kill everyone that won't surrender. Master Oleg you should definately be up on the rampart with your bow. We will need to barricade the doors and windows of the building so the bandits don't have anywhere to take cover in. Alexander, Sheoll, and I meet them here in the yard while the rest support us from up on the rampart. If possible. If we can kill or capture all of them we will have some time before they are missed by their fellows to plan and carry out our next move.
Thank you for the soup Mistress Svetlana. It was delicious. he says as he sops up the last of the broth with his bread. Pushing the bowl aside he leans forward. If any of them get away we can expect the entire band to come back.
"And if none of them come back, they may get suspicious and attack in force." Tassira says, folding her hands and trying to keep her nervousness out of her voice. "Still, it sounds like a good plan."
Oleg nods at Cadell. "Agreed! I put my sweat into this place, a little blood won't hurt." He puts a hand on Svetlana's shoulder and smiles. He then approaches the group. "Personally, I don't care if these bandits die to the man, though you all may have your reasons to keep one or two alive. I'll use my bow up on the rampart, as suggested. I have spare lumber and what-not to help board up."
He goes over to area A4, pointing out some split lumber. "Sooner we deal with these bastards, the better..."
Sheoll smiles.
"Well, it's good we got some food in our bellies, then, we've got work to do."
His eyes take on a polished sheen, the morning sunlight glinting off the vivid gold. Removing his cloak and tossing it casually on the table, he grabs the wine bottle and takes one more swig. Work was something he knew. Maybe not building structures from wood, but he figured it should be simple enough to hammer shut a few doors and shutters. It was good to focus on that, he was beginning to hear the buzzing in the back of his head, and he hoped the sound of hammer on nail would be enough to drown it out.
With that he went to the storage area Oleg pointed out and began gathering planks and nails and set to work.
The bandit leader had threatened Svetlana's life. That made the priestess very mad, but she stilled the reaction. To use a wife to control a husband and profit from their fear and pain...The bandits did not seem like people who could be reasoned with. Rowena had stood and gently patted Svetlana's shoulder, attempting to provide a modicum of comfort as the others spoke of battle strategy which was not her strong suit.
Upon seeing Oleg return in his armour and with bow in hand, she understood the proprietor was at his wit's end and ready to fight for what was his. The priestess scowled momentarily at Cadell's words to Svetlana -- he could not go about telling people how to feel or what they could say to their own spouse and in their own home, no matter how quietly he made the reprimand or how noble his blood.
"Mistress Svetlana, that was a delicious stew. You have our gratitude. Allow me to help put the bowls and cups away. Then I shall aid my companions here in shoring up the rampart."
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Rowena made swift work of putting the bowls and such away and rolling up her sleeves, approached Sheoll. "I do not shy away from hard labour. I may not be a skilled lumberman or woodcutter, but I am willing to help."
Master Oleg I think a better idea would be to put a bit of these banits blood into this place rather than your own. Cadell says to the trading post owner with a grin.
The bandits will be less suspicious if none of their "tax-collectors" come back, than if one or two come racing back to what ever hole they crawled out of with a story about how they were ambushed. Making sure none escape gives us time to back track them to their lair and either attack them there, or find out how many we will face if we have to fortify the trading post and fight them here. Cadell says in reply to Tassira. We are going to have to fight them all anyway. The trick will be arranging it so the fight takes place on our terms instead of thiers.
As they all fall to making preparations to ambush the bandits Cadell reminds them. Remember we don't want to give them any clues as to what we are planning. Things need to look normal.
Sheoll smiles at the priestess.
"Good to hear, Rowena Hunter. I'm no woodcutter either, don't think I'd have had the patience for an...honest?..trade. Dont get me wrong,"
he says, handing the woman a few of the pieces of wood,
"I respect the craft, gods, I even respect the strength it takes to swing that axe day in and out. I think I just need a challenge. A tree doesn't change it's wood while you cut it. A man...or beast does."
Walking over to one of the doors, he crouches low on his heels and tilts his head, trying to find the best way to position the bar.
"The thieves I traveled with...one pretended he could sing. Another fancied himself an artist, though most of his "art" was usually crude. They spent most of their time taking things apart. Not putting them together. It's a nice change to make something stronger, not destroy it. At least for a while."
He finds what he thinks is a suitable position for one of the boards and begins hammering it into place.
He lets out a bit of a laugh, having half expected to smash his thumb, but the nail goes into place nicely.
"How long have you been hearing the call of Deadeye, Rowena Hunter?"
Alexander answers Svetlana Yes that is very helpful. before turning to the larger conversation concerning the up coming fight.
That sounds a solid foundation for a plan. We only need to iron out a few specifics. First how will the bandits react If they don't see Oleg? you would know best Oleg do you believe they would enter the trap without seeing or at least hearing you? I could use a minor spell to convince them you are shouting at them from your cabin. Alexander continues to tick off each point on his fingers as he goes on.
Second how do we prevent them from escaping the fort after we spring the trap. I suggest one or two people to close and guard the gate at a minimum and possibly block it with something like the cart. Alexander indicates the parked cart before continuing.
And third if any do escape the fort or if some wait outside what can we do to stop them from escaping? I suggest Oleg, Tassira, and Rowena. concentrate on taking out any of these enemies first. Giving chase to an enemy that knows the lay of the land and has the advantage of speed should be prevented if possible. Alexander finishes up with block and secures him in the stables after listening to the others opinions on his suggestions and enjoys the stew Rowena ladled out for him before helping the others with the defenses. I need to thank Rowena when we have a moment.
"Sheoll, are you more at peace now, separated from the brigands? And aye, making something solid is a worthy endeavour."
Rowena readily watched what Sheoll did with the lumber and placement of the nails and surveyed the rampart, advising him upon the most effective placement of wood bars and nails, aiding him to the best of her current ability, hoping she was not making mockery of his worthy efforts. It was imperative the work be done well to withstand attacks, both present and future.
Rowena held the lumber in place as Sheoll hammered in the nails. She pondered his question before answering as plainly and honestly as she could,
"Mother Senka, a priestess herself, took me in as babe and raised me. I have no knowledge or memory of my blood parents. As soon as I was able to comprehend, Mother Senka brought me up according to Erastil's teachings. It seemed quite natural to me, to abide by Old Deadeye, and so I chose to live by example. I believe I heard him loudest the day I decided to leave my home village and travel on my own to these lands."
Rowena had heard Alexander mention using her crossbow from the rampart. She gave him a definitive nod. "Alexander is wise - the brigands do have the advantage of knowing this land and its hiding places. Cadell is correct in saying we must catch them unaware and not show our hand readily. Would these scoundrels deem to set the holding on fire if they were closed in and desperate? There is much wood and hay here for kindle. We should prepare for all manner of attacks, indeed."
Hearing Rowena answer Alexander, the warrior pauses from his hammering. He speaks so everyone can hear, his voice resonant and dark.
"That is a valid thought. What one cannot take, one is often satisfied to destroy. If we can lock them in here with us somehow, I think that would be a different story, however."
Looking back to the priestess as the two return to work, Sheoll muses aloud.
"I wonder, had you been raised with my mother's tribe, would you have heard Starsister's call instead? Interesting what things alight to set us on this path or that."
Moving to the next place, he continues the conversation, waiting for Rowena to point out another place to be boarded up.
"And...peace? I don't think I've ever known peace. Not lasting peace anyway. Each calm is only a glimmer before the next conflict. It is a...balancing act. But yes, away from those men has given me more calm, and helped my find my own balance. Or set me towards that path, in any case."
Dousing the wood with water before the bandits appear can help prevent fire from taking hold and having several buckets of water on hand could fight any fires that the bandits start. I may also have a spell or two that could be useful in putting out small fires. I will need to consult my spell book to be certain though.
"Unfortunately, I did not prepare a water spell this morning during my dawn prayers. If any other caster here has such a spell it could prove useful. Or we fill barrels with water to help put out fires where they start." Rowena had seen first-hand what a fire could do to a village or holding and did not want them to be trapped inside one with desperate brigands.
"Master Oleg, do you carry enough water in the trading post?"
The priestess grew silent and thoughtful over Sheoll's commentary regarding his mother's faith. Rowena inwardly searched her memory for the religious teachings pertaining to such a god.
"I have heard Desna referred to as the Starsong. Is the Starsister she?"
Again, Rowena grew reflective as she waited on Sheoll's answer.
"A balance is wise. You have attempted to redeem yourself?"
"Aye, Alexander, dousing the lumber may help slow the fire from taking. However, it would not be good to wet the hay, for it will hold and spoil." She looked across at her noble-blooded companion and gave him a gentle smile before continuing her work with Sheoll.
Sheoll nods with a smile, impressed by Rowena's knowledge.
"Yes, Desna was called Starsister by my mother's tribe. I know very little of the prayers, though I sometimes dream of them. The one story I do recall is that the Starsister... Desna... is said to guide us through the dark, throwing white flames behind like a trail as she walks across the sky."
Taking a moment to look down at the work, he is satisfied that his work will be of some use.
He thinks about Rowena's last question for more than a minute, trying to find the best way to answer. Do I even have an answer for that? he thinks.
Reflective, he speaks with little emotion, remembering his time with the thieves.
"Redeem? I'm...not sure I'd use that word. The highwaymen I was with are no longer a threat...but there is no real way to return what they have taken, or take back the harm they've done.
Tassira works quietly, doing her best to follow the instructions of the others.
Unfortunately, it's quite clear that Tassira's never done something like this before in her life.
*BANG* "OW!"
She drops the hammer she was using and waves her hand about, biting her lip and trying her very best not to start cursing. She hadn't been watching where she was swinging the hammer, having been distracted by the others talking.
Her face turns red, more out of embarrassment than pain.