"It's a cellar. There are some boxes and barrels, but it also looks like someone may have been held captive down here -- there is a blanket and a bowl of half-eaten food. I'm going to check it out. Cover me."
Dezső draws his sword and climbs half way down the ladder and takes another look around. Any signs or sounds of life or unlife? Any apparent exits?
Dezső heads down the stairs, two-legs-one-arm fashion, and finds, backed into a corner, filthy, wounds about her neck and one side, and gripping a piece of wood as a makeshift weapon, The Lady Argentea Malassene, her travel dress stained and ripped.
"Good fellow," she says cooly, a regal tone in her voice, "Are you here to undo me further, or to extricate? There was a commotion above. What has transpired?" If she were not covered in dried blood and dirt and holding a stick, she might have issued this decree from a royal seat, such is the command in her bearing and speech.
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Braegan follows Dezső down the steps. At the sight of the Lady—whom they've risked hypothermia, blade, bow, bite, antler, fae, and worse—he grins.
"Wouldn't dream of it, my Lady." He stops, holding his hands up to show no threat. "I'm Braegan. From Heldren. My friends and I were sent to find you. And bring you back if possible." His lopsided grin warms—whether at their success or the prospect of finally returning home a hero is anybody's guess. "And it looks like we may just pull it off. What ya say you put down that stick and we talk about the best way to get you back there?"
He looks around, "It might be good if you filled us in on all that's happened. We have Rokhar in-hand, but we don't know what other dangers there might be here."
Chiquq's head lifts at some noises she hears. "--the sick men," she says aloud, annoyed. She gives the Lady a brusque nod, caring little for how the southerners determine 'nobility.'
"Braegan or.... Caelum, is it? Can you see to her wounds? If not, I think the gods will listen to me for one more prayer. But I must go talk to our 'prisoners'."
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Dezső finishes lowering himself into the cellar and backs away in a non-threatening manner, sword pointed down.
"We are here to rescue you, Lady Malassene. The commotion you heard was our group dispatching and subduing your captors. Can you tell us what happened?
But, first..., and I hesitate but please understand we were tricked on the way here by something that was not what it seemed -- that used magic to disguise itself. I just need to make sure you are really you. I retrieved a jewelry box from the wreck of your carriage and have been carrying it to return to you. Could you just tell me what is inside it, or at least describe one of the items in detail? I do apologize for asking."
The Lady gives her rescuers a curtsey and a closed mouth smile. "Braegan of Heldren, I owe a debt to you and your band, and it is always a pleasure to meet one of the people."
She turns to Dezső with a smirk. "Impertinent and to the point. I rather like that. And you've an Aldori sword paired with an Ustalavian accent. Curious. But we mustn't tarry. That box contains my signet ring of the House of Malassea, earrings that were once my dear grandmother's, bracelets inlaid with the pearl of Eleder, and a rather small sapphire pendant, among other sundry items. If the good fellow should give his name, he would have my gratitude." She smiles gently, but there is still some demand of etiquette in her last sentence.
"Now, I'll tell you the dangers in turn. Izoze, an ice mephit; she waits upon the bridge. There are winter-touched fey in the wood; you've no doubt dispatched some. I believe there are more powerful fey elsewhere. The elementals in the river, unless you've slain them as well. And Teb Knotten, their leader. I do not know what he is, but he is the most powerful of the lot. Rokhar and he had...plans...for me. A ransom and something else. That is, as the unbearded say, 'scuttled'." She gives a more impish grin, then grows serious. "If there are horses, we can ride and return to Heldren. The fey will come investigating soon. I assume my men are dead." Her voice is flat and her face drawn as she speaks the final sentence.
"I regret to say that your men are indeed dead. Except one who escaped to Heldren and told us what befell you. Here is your box returned to you. My name is Dezső. I have no family name. None that I know. And, yes, I am from Ustalav. Raised among the duelists of the University of Lepidstadt, where I learned to use this unusual sword. The swordmaster thought it more suited to me, as I am quicker than I am strong."
"Ewwwww!" Yrja exclaims, holding the scroll by a corner at arm's length. "We don't want to be using *that*." She tosses it away and runs the material of the cloak through her fingers. "*This*, however, should be handy. It protects from the cold and seems very sturdy. Braegan?" She figures he could use it the most, as he doesn't seem to do very well in this freezing weather.
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The girl hangs back as Braegan and Dezső descent in the cellar. Her magic is all but spent and she doesn't want to be in the way should they have to fight down there. A thrilled smile appears on her face as she hears the lady's voice. Finally, after all their troubles, they had fulfilled their purpose. They're practically heroes! She spends a few seconds daydreaming about the lady's gratitude, expressed in sumptuous dresses with fine embroidery, maybe some silks in shimmering colours, lovely sparkling gems... Then Chiquq's remark shakes her out of her reverie. "I'll come with you" She scrambles on the woman's heels, patting her cloak's pockets. "Where is... Silly thing better not have flown o... What are you doing?!" The latter is addressed to the bat, who is happily nibbling on the spellbook they had found on Rokhar. "Why are you eating that? Are you hungry? Come along now, we have work to do." The bat chitters in protest, clinging to the book. "Oh, fine then. You'd better not get sick though!"
Lady Argentea accepts the box graciously. "Dezső, you and your friends shall be rewarded. Provided we get out of here alive. If you have a weapon to spare, I can defend myself. Perhaps we can 'liberate' one from the Raiders."
She looks to the ladder imperiously, then back to Braegan and Dezső, a bit embarrassed. "Forgive me. If one of you could ascend before me. It is an unfortunate burden that nobility place the lives of commoners beneath them at times."
Braegan looks at the cloak and scroll. , he considers both. ”Let’s take the scroll back to Heldren. It’s detestable, but maybe someone there will have a good plan for it. The cloak … I appreciate it, but let’s put it on Imendri. I can look for other ways of weathering this … weather.”
He listens through Lady Argentea’s retelling, nodding sympathetically. ”I can’t imagine, my Lady.” He considers his story and suggestions. ”I’m torn. Part of my wants to stick around, rest up here, and move on the momentum we’ve gained tomorrow. But we’ve got to get you safely back to Heldren. We can come back and investigate once we know you’re safe.”
"Forgive me. If one of you could ascend before me. It is an unfortunate burden that nobility place the lives of commoners beneath them at times."
Braegan suppresses an eye roll. ”Not a problem,” he says through a smile that’s only slightly forced. ”Dezso, follow the Lady up. But first, did you search the space thoroughly?” He looks at the room in which she was held, [b]”We still don’t know what’s going on here. Every hint could help us figure out what’s behind all this winter-born activity.
As he's searching the room, he takes a moment to watch the Lady. Muttering a few words, his gray eyes warm to an orange as they seek any warm auras of magic emanating from her body.
As Braegan is focused on searching the room, and Dezső does not want to delay the Lady's ascent, he climbs before her once it is clear she is ready.
Once atop, he introduces her to the rest of the group (at least those who have not gone after the prisoners) and gestures to the weapons seized from the vanquished Raiders: "Take your pick of weapon. I believe some of the others have gone in search of the prisoners -- the sick Raiders. We should finish securing them and then gather to decide what to do."
Dezső goes out on the porch to see if his help is needed and to take a look towards the bridge and stables.
Outside, Chiquq looks around sharply for the sick men, bow drawn. She has no intentions of letting them just straggle off into the woods. Aside from the fact that they might freeze to death, it could also potentially mean one of them survives long enough to infect some other unfortunate soul. Ila stomps along in her wake.
"Greetings, Braegan. I must apologize for dousing you with water in this horrible weather. Seemed a better option that being on fire.", Caelum says with a grin.
"I was taking a short cut through the Border Wood when these little blue frozen pixie types stunned me. I think it was color spray. These brigand jerks came across me while I was out and brought me to this lodge. When they found I wasn't anyone important they knocked me out and tied me to the porch." he pauses for a moment while looking at Rohkar's boots. "I wonder if he's the one that kicked me.
"I didn't fare to well travelling alone..." he continues, " and I will gladly join your group."
Yrja follows Chiquq closely, looking around for any signs of the bandits escaping. She had always been able to see extraordinarily well in the dark, something that humans are much worse at, apparently. On the other hand, she's hopeless with weapons, while the Kellid woman is a practiced hunter, good with bow and spear. So it all evens out in the end.
Braegan does not discover anything else of merit within the cellar.
Chiquq and Yrja find three bandits shivering and stifling coughs in the snow, and one more in the act of climbing out the window. They are armed with short swords and bows, but are unarmored. They don't look well.
Chiquq is still injured and tired her own self and has no patience for this.
"All of you," she says shortly. "Get back inside. The man Rokhar has been defeated. You are sick. You need the attentions of a priest, or a healer-- if you run out into the woods you will freeze. Do not be fools. Get back in where it is warm, and we will look at your injuries."
She nocks an arrow, her face quite serious. "Or, if you choose to run, I will bring you down, because there is still a justice to be fulfilled, here."
"Yrja, please keep an eye out for trouble. I will see if Chiquq needs help." Dez, loaded crossbow in hand, heads over towards Chiquq.
Caelum places his hand on Imendri and begins a prayer.
"Hopefully that helps some.", he says as he moves to the front of the lodge to assist with the bandits.
Imendri hears the bandits, and subsequent chatter from outside. He unceremoniously dumps Rokhar into the cellar when everyone is up and out.
Frustrated, he begins slamming his sword against his shield and makes his way outside, *CLAK* *CLACK* *CLAK*
Coming out from behind the bandit fools, he screams "GET BACK IN DE HOUSE, NOW! YUU CAN SIT ON DE FLOOR OR DE COUCH OR WHAT EVER, BUT YUU ARE IDIOTS! DIS COLT WILL KILL YUU. GET. INSIDE."
One of the bandits coughs and spits something green in the snow. "Make us," he says.
Yrja glares at the one who spoke. She pictures him collapsing in the snow unconscious - that should send a message to the others!
Chiquq frowns. "Very well. You have made your choice. Let me know when you wish to change your mind and see reason."
"Ila! Come here!" she calls, directing the mammoth to lumber in front of her.
Seeing Chiquq and Yrja's actions and seeing Imendri and Caelum join the group, Dez feels things are well in hand and he returns to the front porch to keep an eye on the Lodge, bridge, etc.
The Raider threatening Chiquq falls over into the snow, asleep, while his compatriot shrieks as an arrow neatly bisects his kneecap and juts out the back of his leg. He collapses from the pain, bleeding from his wound.
The third Raider simply drops his sword in the snow, and the fourth, still in the window, quietly crawls back inside.
Chiquq grunts and lowers her bow. "You were warned. You -- help your fellow back inside. Wrap his leg."
She has no desire to get too close to the sick men, but neither does she wish these men to die like dogs. They have suffered some already for their poor choices, it would seem. Gingerly, Chiquq picks her way closer through the snow, to look over the sleeping man (without touching him).
"We will see that you are taken to a healer," she sighs. "How many of you in there? Just the four?"
When Yrja's charm wears off she gives the man a no-nonsense look and points for him to join the others back inside.
"What does it matter how many are inside?" coughs the remaining man, all fight gone from him, save for some verbal barbs. "We're all going to die here." He climbs inside without further comment, leaving the sleeping man and the arrow-pierced fellow in the snow.
Chiquq frowns, displeased with this. She moves to the man whose leg she shot, deciding she'll risk whatever contagion they may have.
"Listen to me," she says sternly at him. "I cannot spare healing for you now, but if you all cooperate I will tend your wounds as best I can and try to save you from this disease. It is stupid to fight us."
The man just stands there dumbly and nods at Chiquq.
Suddenly cheery, after seeing the success of his companions, Imendri sticks his sword in the snow and walks up, kneeling and clasping his hands into a stirrup to help the bandits as they climb in.
"Yuu know, we will help yuu get better. No dying off sick ness today! Den one day, may be you get healthy, pick up yor swort again, and we can fight!" he says smiling, but then thoughtfully adds "...but not today! Yuu haff to sit and wait for us to get healers."
Chiquq helps Imendri haul and herd the sick, injured, and -- she thinks-- chronically stupid bandits back inside. Once that is done, she huffs and looks to the others.
[b]"...marching them back to town will be annoying," she points out. "Leaving them here in the time it would take us to go back and find healers has its own problems. But this is not over, is it? We have found the lady, but... there are all these... winter spirits around that we have heard of. Should we try and take the lady back so she can be safe? Or clear this trouble out of these woods entirely first?"
After the work is done, Imendri's short reply is simply: "Kill de fings, bring de lady and bandits back to town. Good, no?"
"Erm, perhaps we should ask the lady what she prefers...?" Yrja ventures tentatively. "I can tend to them as well," she adds, gesturing at the bandits retreating through the window, "but I need to rest first."
Braegan—after a loooong pause—shakes his head.
”Too much stuff could go wrong if we do anything but take them back directly.” He looks at the Lady, ”So we should do just that. Even the bandits. We’ll go the way we came, bypassing the ice creatures the same way we did on the way here. Once we’ve returned them, we’ll work on resting up, healing up, and coming back here for more investigation.”
Lady Argentea joins the group, frowning.
Do you have enough horses to take everyone back? There's your sticking point to a noble rescue of every brigand. Those bandits are sick and cannot travel. My horses were taken, or slain, or, it appears, turned into undead by that rat Rokhar." She peers at Chiquq, who spoke first, and notes the mammoth.
"Ah. I've heard of you. I was already going to state that I need to get back in order to assure my contacts I am well. I was to be used as leverage, and my absence will exacerbate turmoil in Oppara. But, you are Kellid, yes?" She fixes her gaze on the smaller hunter with a steely glint. "I now have another reason to get back. I have an extended cousin who was slain by dint of his own stupidity on a hunting trip. I had heard rumors that his father, a Lord Hillsfar, has been running an illegal gladiatorial ring, and that he was bragging of a 'former guide being brought to her knees for her mistake', or words to that effect. And also something about shaving a great big hairy oliphaunt, although yours doesn't appear to be that large." The Lady's eyes twinkle, then harden again.
"I don't much care for the Lord--this isn't his first offence, and I do believe you two are acquainted. On your way to fight and die in some wretched underground fighting ring. So, if you can get me out of her with alacrity, I can attend to his affairs with some expediency. As to what that entails..."
She crosses her arms. "We can walk Rokhar out. He deserves punishment. The others should be left here. If they scatter, or die, it doesn't truly matter. Rokhar is the big fish. The fey will be back, and soon. We should away now."
Her words make sense, although they do seem somewhat harsh regarding the fate of the Raiders.
Imendri smiles, chiming in before anyone else, and says "Det's nice, Lady, but no. Weer bringing de bandits too.", chuckling.
"...eet just meens det we haff to get dem healed. Dey's fine I'm sure. Funny, I was finking maybe kill Rokhar, but yuu fink he's more important. Eet's fine. We bring dem all."
Turning to Yrja, he finishes, "Well, I can do some heals to dem too, but also need to sleep. I guess we wait. Lock dem down, tie dem up, all dat. Also, put a gag on dat devil in de basement. Or cut out his tongue or somefing."
Chiquq looks less sanguine than Imendri, her face drawn at the things their rescued lady says.... and the revelation that Lord Hillsfar has a dire fate in mind for her. She rubs at her face wearily and then speaks in the north-tongue-- mostly to her cousin, but she knows that several others among the group speak her language as well, so it serves as a halfway private way for them to communicate.
"It is cold as ice to simply let these men die here, but the woman has a point: these men could barely walk just now. Marching them through the snow back to town could mean we're carrying them. I hear your words, kinsman, but the prayers that we can say may not be enough to cure their sickness. We must see to ourselves first: we have many injuries among us. The evil spirits could attack us, here, while we rest; they could attack us on the journey back, when we are burdened with sick men who we cannot trust. We do not even know if the sickness they have may not make us sick also. This is a bad situation."
She looks to Braegan and Dez, rubbing at her forehead still, her brows furrowed. Remembering that the bond of spirit-whispers is still up between her and the other woman, she repeats what she said to her in the common southerner tongue. As for Caelum, she has no special way to communicate to him. (Alas.)
Braegan watches the exchange between Lady Argentia and Chiquq, and he can’t help nodding at Imendri’s words.
When he responds, its initially in Hallit. ”I hear your words also, hunter. Sometimes a hard thing is worth doing simply because it is right.”
He switches back to Taldane, shaking his head as he looks up at the aristocrat. ”I understand your position, my Lady, but I don’t feel good about leaving these men here to die. We can at least try to bring them with us. As you said, they are weak from sickness, making them less likely to have the strength to escape. And if they do, that much less likely they’ll survive. If it comes to that, they’ve dug their own grave. But if not, wouldn’t it be better for us to do the right thing?”
He nods towards Chiquq, ”I don’t pretend to know what all you’re talking about, but if there is something you can do to help Chiquq out, hasn’t she earned it already? We wouldn’t have found you had it not been for her.”
"I totally understand, cousin - it's going to be rough as a thunder lizard's backside trying to do all of it, but I'd say it's worth it. I don't know that I fully agree with Braegan's motivation," and he smiles warmly at Braegan, indicating no malice, "...but hey, we all do what's "right" to us. I just want these weaklings to pose more of a challenge when they get better. Who knows, maybe they become productive instead. Only the gods can see where their path leads. I just hate weakness, and bad or good, nobody deserves magic sickness. There's not even a natural remedy for it - it's us or death for them. A waste of a warrior's life."
"Det's all I haff to say. Yuu vote or somefing I guess." he grunts, waving his hand at the party.
The Lady narrows her eyes at Braegan. "If we do not get back to Heldren, if the fey overtake us as we lead six hobbled men through the freezing woods, or if Rokhar lets them die and reanimates them through some necromancy on the trail...I don't suppose I will be able to help out Chiquq at all with the good Laird Hillsfar. However. If we leave now, and leave them some supplies, they can strike out on their own. However, we have no idea if Teb and Izoze will strike us if we hole up in the Lodge. There is a good chance they will. They weren't on the best terms with Rokhar, and now that he's been incapacitated, I simply cannot take the chance that they will attack us to kidnap me again." Her fire dies down in her eyes at the end of her speech.
"I do not like leaving men to their deaths. But this situation is grim and we must look to ourselves first. If we go, there is a chance they may recover and leave on their own, but if we take them with, I see no way they will cooperate. They could shout out to the fey throughout the forest path and set us up for ambuscade or worse."
She crosses her arms. "Right now, this is survival. The fey took out my men quickly, along with the help of the Raiders. We are somewhat better armed now, but without horses, and they know we are here. Unless you have a way of conveying us all rapidly to civilization--and I don't believe you do....wait."
She taps her nose. "Gods, I can't believe I am suggesting this. Strap Rokhar and his men onto the horse in the stable. I think there may be one more dead horse in there. He could animate it and we could pull them on a sledge. Of course, Rokhar would need his symbol to do so...and be in control of them. Hmmm...no, that's a terrible idea. Perhaps we should just leave them here."
Yrja nods slowly and thoughtfully as the lady suggests that the bandits are left behind with supplies, as if she is quite partial to that idea. The events of the last few days have taught her how impractical it is to haul prisoners around in these conditions, and Dezső's discourses on ethics have made quite an imprint on her. His words just... make sense.
"So. For now, we rest. Tomorrow morning, we try to heal them up some, leave them supplies, then head out." She shrugs at the others. "At least that's what I think we should do."
Dez listens closely but quietly as his companions and the Lady debate. He is astonished at the lengths suggested to aid the bandits considering their crimes and the group's own perilous position. As Yrja finishes her comment, he nods with approval and finally weighs in: "I agree. I do not see how we can possibly risk trying to bring the bandits with us considering our weakened condition and the dangers we still face. Also, given the likelihood the bandits will be hung for the crimes they have committed here, I don't see bringing them back as a great mercy. I agree we should leave them here and any supplies we offer is a generosity. But the Lady urges us to leave now lest we be attacked by the dangers lurking near. I gather, however, that everyone thinks we you cannot risk it. Could we travel some safe distance and then rest?"
Chiquq lowers her head, gazing at her toes, and sighing heavily.
"If we are to vote, then I must cast mine for.... not bringing them with us. We cannot guard against attack from spirits and also be herding these men. If one of them becomes too weak to walk on the trail, will we carry him? We cannot. And then it would be a choice to leave him to die in the snow-- a certain death. That is no kindness.
"So I say to leave them. But I would also advise against trying to make camp out in the snow. This building is defensible! If we are going to rest overnight, we should do it with walls and doors around us. What is the disadvantage of this place? The spirits know it is here, very well. Do you not think they could track us? So many of us, and Ila's big feet? We will need a fire if we camp out in the snow, or we will freeze to death: the spirits will see that like a beacon in the night, and come easily on us.
"I would rather risk spending one night here, where there are doors we may shut, a fireplace, furniture to barricade... than to fight spirits in the middle of the night, in the woods, in the dark, as we struggle to keep from freezing. Maybe the spirits show, maybe they don't. But it is safer in a place we can hold."