"If not for good, at least for your own self-interest," adds Lisl. "The alternative, as you have seen, is quite final."
While the other group members resolve the disposition of the bandit prisoners and their leader, Jory conducts a thorough search of the camp, examining the area for any items of note that may provide more insight on the Stag Lord or his intentions, or anything else the group might've missed in its initial survey of the aftermath.
___________
Darian's execution of Kressle has opened the floodgates, al the survivors immediately start talking. Desperately trying to give you any information you want in an effort to be spared.
Info dump:
While the bandits remain relatively loyal and well-behaved as long as their boss, Kressle, lives, their loyalty to the Stag Lord vanishes as soon as she’s defeated.
Any remaining bandits are quick to surrender and beg for mercy.
Like an increasing amount of the Stag Lord's bandits, these thugs are dissatisfied with the rule of their master, whose grip on reality seems to be slipping into the bottom of a whiskey cask.
While they continue to support their lord, they aren't foolish enough to die for him, nor do they pass up any seemingly good opportunities.
A bandit won’t help you before learning the hard way that he might be outclassed, but a bandit that is captured alive can reveal crucial information concerning both the Stag Lord and the Greenbelt itself.
“Our boss is a monster of a man. Calls himself the Stag Lord. He’s a deadeye with the bow, and I saw him crush a prisoner’s hand to mush in one fist. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen him without his creepy stag helmet on, some of my friends think he ain’t got no face under it, but not me, I think that creepy helm is his face!”
“It’s hard keeping track of who’s working for the boss, so we use a master phrase as a sort of password to get in to the fort on the northeast shore of the Tuskwater. Unless it’s been changed recently, the current phrase is, ‘By the Bloody Bones of St. Gilmorg, who wants to know?’ And no, I have no idea who ‘St. Gilmorg’ is.”
“The Stag Lord is a bloody drunk. All that booze under the platform’s for him. He's half of what he used to be, and ain’t never been right in the head. A few weeks ago he punched my horse for spittin' in the yard. Personally, I wouldn't care if he dropped dead tomorrow, but even drunk out of his mind he's still got a fair amount of fight to him.”
“The Stag Lord keeps a strange old man locked up in the basement. I suspect the old guy might actually be running the show, using the Stag Lord as a puppet, you know. I got a look into the old guy’s eyes once, and it terrified me. He ain't someone I'd want to cross.”
All of course swear to mend their ways and promise to never bother you or Oleg's again.
They've told you everything they know. What are you doing now?
Darian looks over the others as they take stock of the information presented them. ”Well, if he is a drunkard, I doubt he will come up here with vengeance like she claimed. What do you guys think of all this?”
Freya silently watches the pains-taking decision process, thinking, Are they so different from you, Freya? You willing left the life, perhaps they simply lack the courage or the will.
"I think he sounds like a dangerous opponent, but one who has grown complacent. I agree with you, Darian, I doubt he makes his way up this direction anytime soon."
”Regardless of whether they are due for the gibbet or the work yard, I suggest we need return with this lot to Oleg’s, along with the all the supply and material we can carry. Confronting this Stag Lord is not something to rush into, so let us be assured our base of operations is supplied and secured, and that we ourselves are armed and equipped adequately.”
He gestures to the gathered loot. ”And of course, we must take stock of our accrued valuables. I imagine pacifiying an area like this may get expensive....”
”Agreed,” Darian says as he stands from his knelt position. ”We can talk more once we are in a secure position. As well as on the road,” he adds with a smile.
He sees to it the prisoners are bound in chain-gang-fashion, so as to make it difficult to run. He also double checks their hand restraints before heading out for Oleg’s.
The return to Oleg's is quiet, but you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction with your work. Removing such a large group of criminals means things will be much more safer in the region.
On arrival you immediately note that there are two armed men on the walls, and several tents have been set up between the stable and the palisade. The hoped for guards from Restov have arrived finally.
Their leader is a man Named Kesten Garess, he seems professional, but not friendly. In face overall he seems to be constantly depressed.
A DC 20 Knowledge (nobility) check is enough to recall the scandal when an affair between Kesten and a lowborn woman named Tania, a weaver’s daughter, became public knowledge. His father Evan, a cousin of the Garess family patriarch, disowned Kesten, who fled to Restov to serve as a mercenary.
When you arrive with your prisoners Kesten is rather surprised that you bothered taking any alive. He accepts your decision, but points out three of the prisoners have warrants for their arrest posted in Restov, for murder and arson. "I can understand you not wanting to waste any one willing to do honest work." He states. "But those three are for the rope. If word gets back to Restov, and you know it will, then it'll mean big trouble!"
Oleg is overjoyed at your return of his stolen stock, you can see him straighten a little, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulder. In return he offers to take all the equipment you don't want and sell it for you. There is always a market of leather armor and bows out here in the wilds.
News of your execution of Kressle brings a grim smile to his face. "That'll help." He says. "It's good to have some mercy in you, but the knowledge that it's not from weakness but from strength will make a lot of people tread more carefully!"
After looking through the stolen valuables he takes Darian aside and quietly asks. "You didn't see a brass wedding ring anywhere in the camp did you? It's Lana's wedding ring and the bastards took it thef first time they robbed us."
Questioning the prisoners gains you the information that several week previously Mites raided the bandit camp and made off with anything small they could grab, including a bag of cheap items, one of which was the wedding ring.
Oleg requests that if you do find it please return it. "It isn't worth much, but it means a lot to her."
Things to do:
1. Kesten Garess wants to hang three of the prisoners for their crimes.
2. You can now set up the bunkhouse (A2) as your base for rest and recovery.
3. You can finally get started on exploring and mapping the stolen lands.
What are you doing now?
When they return to find a friendly armed presence at the fort, Darian is visibly relieved. But the information that three are known wanted fugitives earns them bandits a cold glare. ”Perhaps, in time, we should invest in a gallows here, for this sort of thing. But for now, I suppose it falls to me.” Darian doesn’t delay in carrying out the sentence as he had before. He waits for the remaining prisoners to have a chance to repent under the spell’s power before casting further sentences.
He turns to Oleg and replies, ”We will try our best to find it. It would seem a bunch of mites stole it from the thieves.”
Once they have a chance to relax and talk, he asks the others, ”So, let’s take the day to settle in and then tomorrow start our map-making venture. Which way you all think we should go first? I think we should be systematic about it, and make sure these northern regions are clear of anymore bandits before trekking too far into this Stag Lord’s holdings. That way we won’t be surprised by attacks on our backs when we begin to deal
With him directly.”
"I agree with Darian. Let us be sensible in how we go about mapping the region. Start with the nearest areas and expand, carefully, out from there. There is still much we don't know."
Jory gestures to the various bounty notices adorning Oleg's walls. "If these postings are any indication, there is more than enough trouble that we know off, to go wandering off into the unknown finding more before we are assured of victory..."
”Agreed,” Darian says, and then smiles. ”Though, I dare say we’ve quite thoroughly accomplished the first posting!” he says as he points to the board and chuckles.
|
At the talk of exploration Isabel heads inside to gather up the maps Oleg had last time, before coming back out with them to make her case. "Looping around makes good sense, you're right. I'd suggest we start off to the east, we can clear the plains on the edge of the woods first which would be the easiest exploring I imagine, and keep us close to Olegs. Then we can work on actually moving into the forest later. Besides..." She adds, squinting at the map with her nose slightly wrinkled, "I think establishing where this river goes and how we can cross it would be helpful."
Bandits
Isabel watches as Darian performs his grim, but necessary work but does not stay until the end. Instead she slips off to find Oleg (or possibly Svetlana!) and asks whether they could use more help around the trading post. Having established that there is plenty of mucking out to do she returns to the remaining bandits, unties them and asks them to sit down.
"Gentlemen. We are here to change the Greenbelt. Not by simply building the largest force and ruling whatever we can threaten. We are going to change things from the ground up, for everyone. Anyone who will work with us will be treated as an equal and will become a part of what we are accomplishing here. It will require hard work, none of us expect any less and we will expect the same of those who follow us but that is the price we all pay for something great." She looks from one bandit to another firmly. "Your choice is simple, stay here and work for Oleg - you will have a purpose, protection from the Stag Lord and be a part of our work here, or leave - drift back into the wild and likely as not end up as those men did." She waves vaguely behind herself to where Darian presided over the executions. "The choice is yours."
Darian leans over Isabel’s shoulder to look over the map, resting his hand on her back. ”I think that seems like a reasonable course. Maybe track the river a bit before returning northward. What do you guys think?” he asks the others.
Freya shrugs. "As reasonable of a course as any."
Darian excuses himself from the table where the others are discussing their exploration venture, and walks over to Oleg and claps the man on the back, ”So, things are starting to look up here, wouldn’t you say? What do you think you have planned for this place, now that you’ve got a stationed guard force and some hands to help get it fixed up again?”
He listens interestedly to Oleg’s plans as the pair walk through, outside, and around the small fort.
Eventually, the two return through the gates and Darian goes to speak with the prisoners that passed the test of Lisl’s magic*, ”So, here’s the deal, you’ve all sufficiently proven you earnestly seek to redeem yourselves in the eyes of the law. Here is your first chance to prove it. You are going to remain here under Kesten’s guard, and help Master Leveton here repair the damage done to this place. I will personally tend to your room and board while you are here. You will be fed and have a place to sleep. If, after one month of honest work, you wish to remain, I will help you find honest employment somewhere. If, after that month, you’d rather seek an honest life elsewhere, then you will be free to go. Is this understood?”
"You'll always find me agreeable to following the River." Rok says with a smile as they forumalte their travel plans.
When Isabel and Darian address the potentially reformed captives the cavalier stands nearby, with Kasper leaning on her shoulder.
"Who knows, if any of you impress me I may hire you on to my own mercenary band one day. You've got to put in the work first though, and this is the best deal you'll get that isn't a noose."
Jory listens intently as Isabel and Darian propose an approach to exploring the land nearest Oleg's. He nods in agreement. "Aye, I'm told rivers are the highways of the wilderness! Let us then map the nearest thoroughfare in exquisite detail..."
While Darian attends to further discussions with Oleg and Kesten, and Isabel and Rok assess the state of their prisoners, Jory busies himself with the disposition of the goods accrued thus far on their travels. Ledger and chalk in hand, he takes inventory of their stock and carefully marks out the containers due to be returned to Oleg's keeping. He further begins to separate the excess arms and armor to sell to Oleg, noting the elements they wish to reserve in the group's control, and sees to their placement in the bunkhouse.
With the guards now stationed in the trading post Oleg is a lot more amiable to letting others work there, especially since you are covering their slight costs.
Morning dawns and you mount your steeds, checking your equipment and supplies. Giving the people of the trading post a salute you set off to begin your duty.
As you ride east and explore the region you spot a small group of Elf grazing by a small stream, the Stags head raises and he studies you warily.
Hunting, or ignoring?
"An elk would make for fine provisions for us." Freya comments as she loads her crossbow.
(aid from Darian)
As the group settles in around the campfire on their first night out from Oleg’s, Darian pokes at the coals of the flames with a stick. ”I’m thinking about abandoning my family name,” he blurts out bluntly.
Lisl keeps a good distance from the elk as the group approaches the river. "Magnificent, though they are dangerous up close, are they not? The stag's horns could certainly gore a man - or woman - in short order."
Around the campfire later, Lisl keeps her cloak drawn close. At Darian's sudden outburst, she says, "What prompted such a decision? Have you had a falling-out with your parents?"
Freya cocks her head in surprise at Darian's outburst and is about to ask why when Lisl chimes in. With the question already asked, Freya simply rubs her hands together and warms them at the fire, waiting for Darian's answer.
Camp Scene:
”Not so much a falling out...but I sort of abandoned the family, and the city where I was raised, after a military coupe, of sorts. Isabel and I, we had tried to form a resistance against the new Lord Mayor, but his Dottari were very thorough...and one by one rooted our members out and...well...” he looks at Isabel and takes her hand.
”At any rate,” he says, getting back on topic, ”despite being halfway across the world, they may not tolerate any threats to their position, nor insults to their honor. House Thrune, that is. My family wouldn’t harm me. Except maybe Cristobal. But, I am the heir to the House, and he may decide to take it upon himself to see to it I don’t return. So,” he again looks to Isabel, ”I think it would be wise to change my last name, at the very least. Maybe not right now, but eventually. I...I wanted to make sure you were all aware of the potential danger being associated with, well, with both of us may place you in, even if it is remote.”
Roksana aids in hunting down the Elk, though she makes sure the party does not take more than they need to feed themselves for a few days. She helps prepare it and cook it that evening as Darian becomes introspective.
"Well, what better time to reinvent yourself then out here in the wild, right?" Roksana says to the bard, sympathizing. "I was just an orphan girl in the city of assassins not so long ago. Decided to give that up and pick up a few weapons, joined the military and got tired of that too. It's everyone's right to rebuild their life, and if you're going to make a new name, might as well be around a bunch of people that don't care about your old one either."
Freya nods, hearing Rok's comment. "She's right, you know...I wouldn't be terribly shocked if more among us than just you and Isabel are looking for new life."
::Campfire::
"I understand the desire, Master Aulamaxa. A name can carry so much of the burden of life. It can become an anchor. After a while, one just wants to....cut one's self loose, lest you be dragged to the bottom."
Jory warms his hands on the fire, hunched in his travel gear, not quite yet acclimated to the ways of the wilderness. "You know, Haltine is not a family name? I think I read it on a shoemaker's sign. Perhaps I should've picked something more...grand? Alas, it let me start anew in Restov, whatever the provenance."
Hearing Freya's comment, Jory asks her, "Oh? And what sins do you wish to cleanse out here in the great unknown?"
|
|
Isabel takes no part in the hunting, simply riding around the edge of the herd to help keep them coralled while the actual hunters do their work.
Campfire
Isabel squeezes gently when Darian takes her hand and leans against his shoulder, her blonde hair spreading down his back. She doesn't say anything for a while, simply rubbing small circles into Darian's hand. For a man as devoted to his family as Darian this is a tremendous step and she knows that nothing she can say will make the decision any easier.
As the conversation turns to a more general sharing session she looks at her lover again, the concern clear on her face, before returning to the general conversation with deliberate, if slightly forced, levity. "Well perhaps I should change mine too - then hopefully no-one will link me with the party where I tried to waltz with the Count Tanessen, tripped over his feet and fell face first into the punch bowl!" She winces theatrically. "Granted I was nine at the time, but the memory has haunted me for years!"
As Jory asks Freya the question, the raven swoops down out of a nearby tree and lands on the red-haired woman's shoulder. "Lure. Du snakker for mye." the bird squawks.
Freya shoots the raven an annoyed glance. "Du er stille. Disse folkene skal være våre følgesvenner og venner. Vi må lære å stole på dem."
"I...I didn't mean myself, Jory. I was simply trying to sympathize with Darian."
Wrapped up in his own thoughts, Darian is oblivious to Freya’s sympathetic response. ”Perhaps you’re all right. Now is as good a time as any to become my own man,” he says, leaning into Isabel a bit. ”But, I have no idea what to settle on as a monicker. Perhaps I’ll earn me a namesake here in the Greenbelt, like some hero in a children’s tale.”
He smirks and adds jokingly, ”Darian Stagsbane? Lightblade? Ha. I’m no good at this. Maybe I’ll just have to wait and see what fits.”
"Names by deed are never ones that you choose for yourself," says Lisl.
Darian chuckles, ”Yeah, I know. Was just throwing some out for the fun of it.”
"As you wish, Darian Fun-Thrower."
Darian snickers a bit at Lisl, and puts his arm around Isabel and pulls her close. ”I think you will be fine, hun. I’m sure the world will forgive the transgressions of a nine year old klutz.”
"In a merc band you'd be given a title by now for sure." Rok says thoughtfully. "Darian the Redeemer perhaps, or Darian the Headsman depending on how those bandits work out."
She smiles at the idea, and looks a bit wistful. "For a bunch of cut throats and braggarts, mercenaries can be a poetic lot, and love a person with conviction. You've got that in droves Darian. We'll find a new name for you yet."
Despite the dangers of the Stolen lands some prefer it, for the solitude, or the escape from civilization it offers.
You encounter one such person as you explore, his ramshackle hut built by a small stream, surrounded by a small copse of trees.
Bokken is the name of this person, a twitchy, skinny man, who makes his living selling potions to Oleg. As well as the notice he has placed at Oleg's for Fang berries Bokken has another request for you to consider. His brother also lives somewhere in the Stolen lands, but Bokken doesn't know where? Else he would have settled matters with him personally.
He shows you his hand, and it's missing finger. "Bastard cut that offa me the last time he hit my mother, Desna rest her soul. But he took off
right after to live in a hollow tree down south rather than face the guards, so I guess it all worked out well enough.”
Should you find his brother Bokken offers you 5 potions of Cure light wounds for that information.
What are you doing now?
Darian remains polite with the seemingly eccentric Bokken. He agrees to keep an eye out for both the berries and this brother, before urging the group to continue on their planned path.
You are now well into the wilds of the Stolen lands, rolling hills, streams of clear water, small groups of shrubs and trees are all around you. Aside from the occasional herd of deer of elf you see nothing else that could bother you, just a lush, green and empty land.
Freya, as you ride through the day you have the nagging feeling you are being followed, but every time you look around you cannot see any signs of your stalker.
Finally, when you stop at midday to water the horse and have a dry lunch you see your elusive hunter. Sitting by the stream a hundred feet from you, but in clear view. A large grey wolf takes a drink, then sits on his haunches and looks calmly back at you.
Freya, what are you doing?
"Well that explains that feeling I've had all morning." Freya says finally noticing her pursuer.
Stepping away from the area where the group has stopped to water the horses and take lunch, Freya moves closer to the wolf.
Reaching into her belt pouch for a small piece of jerky, she calls out to the wolf. "Hello there. Come on over here and let's see what all of this is about."
As your companions watch in some amazement the wolf ambles calmly over to Freya, accepting the offered jerky and snapping it up with relish, it settles on it's haunches and looks up at you, though it's eyes do glance at the pouch you took the jerky from.
It seems to be waiting for your response.
What are you doing?
Darian had been filling his canteen in the stream beside his drinking horse when Isabel said his name.
”Hmmm?” he replied as he finished taking a drink himself and looked over to her. He saw her posture then followed her gaze, and his eyes went wide at the sight.
What is she doing? Has she gone mad? If we shout, we may spook the animal into attacking...if we do nothing...it may still attack...
Unsure what to do, he slowly steps forward, one hand raising up to silence the others, the other slowly reaching towards his bow.
Freya looks at the wolf before saying, "You're supposed to be with me every bit as much as Muninn, aren't you?" as she slowly reaches down to scratch the wolf between the ears.
"What to call you...hmmm...perhaps Fenrir? Is that suitable for you?" she asks.