After many hours of traveling down the South Rostland road, you have finally reached it: Oleg’s Trading Post. Before you is what looks like a small fort, the walls of which are about ten feet high. At the corners of the fort are four twenty-foot tall guard towers, each topped with some sort of contraption.
Each one of these wooden structures is a catapult.
The 30 foot wide gate to the fort is partially closed, but you can see part of the yard, a few bits of building, and a ladder with a man on top. The man calls down as you approach,
”What in the nine unholy layers of Hell is this? I was expecting an armed guard, not a variety show.”
The man climbs down the ladder, hammer in hand. He looks like he’s approaching his forties and is going slightly bald, but has the physique of a much younger man and his tan skin betrays a life of labor.
”Now hold up, lemme get a better look at ya.”
By now, with his stern demeanor and commanding tone, it is quite obvious that this man is Oleg. He walks out in front of the group and gives each member a good once-over. He pauses for a significant amount of time on Scraps, as though he doesn’t quite believe he’s staring at a Goblin with a gun. He eventually says in a particularly gruff tone,
”Well, I suppose out here you have to take what you can get. So what’s your plan on these bastard bandits who’re bothering me an’ my wife? Are you gonna kill ‘em outright, or bring ‘em back to Restov to be hanged?”
Perception:
Bluff to act like I know what he's talking about:
Good day sir. Wallop Fey's my name and I'm guessing you must be Oleg, the owner and proprietor of this fine establishment. Bandits you say? Yes bandits it is of course. Please, tell us about them. What are their numbers? How are they bothering you?
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The rest of the journey to Oleg's was all kinds of awkward for Aerynne, and she spent the trip in relative quietude. She felt a little disturbed about the hate directed towards Scraps, and moreover that she was acting almost like a prison guard for the goblin. Nonetheless, it seemed that the dwarf had decided she was no threat (for now), so perhaps this farce of 'keeping an eye on her' would be over sooner rather than later. For reasons she couldn't quite identify, the extreme prejudice caused no amount of consternation for the half-elf, and she felt almost... protective of little Scraps.
Thankfully, the rag-tag group eventually made it to Oleg's--and was greeted by the man himself, at least, that's what Aerynne had to assume. His demand to 'get a better look at ya' made her feel self-conscious and uncomfortable, and the half-elf frowns deeply as the middle-aged man checks them all out as if they were horses up for auction. By the time he starts talking about bandits, she's had well enough with staying silent, and quickly dismounts from Bramble.
"Oleg, I'm assuming? Call me Aerynne, please." Keeping Bramble's reins in her left hand, Aerynne approaches Oleg with her right hand outstretched for a handshake. "I'm afraid we are not here to deal with bandits. We've been given a charter to explore the Stolen Lands. That said, I don't want to be bothered by bandits while we're doing our job here either, and I'd rather get rid of such scum before they become too much of an annoyance. What happened to you and your wife?"
Oleg seems at first confused by the halfling's obvious lie, but his face reddens in consternation at Aerynne's statement, obviously not listening after her first mention of bandits and ignoring her hanshake."Y-, you... you ain't here to deal with the bandits?! YOU AIN'T EVEN HEARD OF 'EM?!
At his call, a beautiful woman who at first glance looks no older than thirty appears, but she strides out of house Oleg was working on with the poise of a lady much her senior. She reaches the fuming Oleg's side and says very calmly, "Dear, what seems to be the matter?"
"They say..." (he can barely speak he's so angry), "They s-s-s-say they ain't even heard of the bandits, that they're just here to explore! After all the times I sent p-p-p-pleas for help from the Swordlords they-" and at this point Oleg's speech breaks off into a string of curses so foul that they are not fit to write (And this website will just filter them out anyways). He throws his arms up in the air, infuriated, and throws his hammer on the ground which lands with an unsatisfying bounce. Oleg proceeds to walk away, still muttering curses under his breath.
"My apologies. My husband is a good man, but he is easily carried away by his passion and this matter of bandits is weighing on both of us heavily."
You now begin to see the subtle lines in Svetlana's expression that indicate a much older woman indeed, perhaps even older that Oleg. She continues: "The walls of that building are quite thin, so I'm well up to speed on your purpose here. You wanted to know what has happened to us? Oh, I'll tell you," A flash of anger suddenly crosses the woman's formerly comforting face. "I'll tell you, all right. Three months ago, a group of ten men led by a woman with two axes and a crude man in a hood arrived at our front gate. We welcomed them as travelers and guests. They had a different idea.
[b]After having their fair share of food and wine, the scumbags revealed their true purpose: extortion. They threatened to burn our trading post to the ground and... abduct me for their own 'amusement' if we didn't hand over to them all the furs and trade goods we accumulate each month. They took all our wares on that first visit, and the axe-woman threatened to cut off Oleg's hand for not complying at first. Then when he agreed she wrenched my wedding ring off my finger and tossed it to one of her men calling it payment for 'not shortening Oleg's reach.'
They have returned twice since then, each time within an hour of sunrise on the first day of each month. They playfully call their extortion "taxes," and always hurling rude remarks in my direction. These past two times they have been led only by that hooded bastard of a bowman and his cronies have been coming in smaller and smaller numbers.
Oleg has sent perhaps ten messages to Restov for help, but each time we hear that there are no available forces. Then a few weeks ago, we were told a small retinue was on it's way. We thought you might be them, but we have also received notice of your purposes here as well. The first of the month is tomorrow, and we know they will come again. Time to wait for the soldiers has run out. Please, if you can help us we would appreciate it so much! We'll even give you free room and board tonight if you agree to help us tomorrow!"
Oleg looks back at Svetlana's offering free services and mutters unhappily, but doesn't voice any opposition. The two are appear quite desperate.
Gerran absorbs all of what is said in silence. We cannot let these brigands continue to operate in this way. He nods as if to himself, then replies, "Master Oleg, Svetlana, my name is Gerran Ashkenazi. Despite our 'variety show' looks, I assure you that I, at least, am a competent warrior and bowman. I would help you against these brigands regardless of payment, though" he adds with a grin, "I'll not turn down your offer. Rest assured that I, at least, will defend your home to the best of my ability, so that we may soon return to our original purpose."
Morgrym steps forward until he kneels before the taller woman. He looks up at her with determination carved in the stone of his face and, clasping his fist to his chest, he speaks.
"I am Morgrym Hammergun, son of Thonin Hammergun, Stonelord of Highhelm and emissary of High King Borogrim. I have made an oath to make my shield the shield of those who cannot shield themselves. By Torag's Hammer I swear that no further harm will come to you while I still stand."
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Aerynne listens to Svetlana's tale, becoming increasingly angry the longer the story progresses. By the end of it she is fuming in rage, her fist tightly clenched. Bandits were bad enough for their acts of theft and making the roads an unsafe place to travel... but the brazen acts of this band was worse than normal, constantly praying on the same poor people, desecrating the symbol of the love they shared. That they were led by a woman who seemed happy to invite sexual violence onto another woman was more than Aerynne could bear to hear. Topping it all off was the complete lack of correspondence by the authorities who were supposed to defend these people. She takes a deep, slow breath, trying to channel some measure of calmness back into her body.
"Tomorrow will be the last time they dare to step foot here," she says evenly, though the anger is clearly visible in her rich green eyes.
The half-elf glances around the outpost, her gaze lingering on the catapults on the corners of the fort. "We should ambush them," Aerynne says after a moment's pause. "Put out some kind of... 'bait' to get them inside, then leap out at them when their backs are turned."
Marius walks alongside the others, leading Sifkesh, who, he is gratified to see, is no longer being stubborn. He looks up at Gerran. Useful one, he. Steady and dependable, and good with animals. he muses, before watching his other companions one at a time. The Dwarf will stand up for law, that's for sure, and I appreciate his people's dedication to duty and tradition. The Goblin may be a problem - potentially too unruly. We'll have to watch her. The Half-Elf... a Summoner. She is rough around the edges, but she may be helpful. Interested in conciliation, and probaly a strong personality. As for the Slip, well, he's yet to prove his usefulness.
As the group approaches Oleg's Marius starts to relax. "At last, civilization. Or what passes for it anyway. Maybe we'll get a bed and a bath." he says.
Inside, Oleg's question sets Marius to untying the small chest he has loaded on Sifkesh. He struggles with it as Wallop and Aerynne send him off in his apoplexy. He is unlocking it and drawing out a piece of parchment when Svetlana appears and recounts their story, which makes him frown. When he's finally ready, he has the charter from Brevoy in his hands.
He reads out loud.
"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."
He smirks and looks at the others. Did they not even read it?
"Fear not, Svetlana, we have been charged by the Swordlords with dealing with Banditry and unlawfulness. We are yours, as you are ours." he says. "My comrades' good consciences and intentions are backed up by writ, and so consider us your defenders and avengers."
Probably should have read my charter, I suppose. Later - there are more pressing matters to deal with now. Gerran nods to Marius in thanks, then his thoughts turn to tactics. He looks around, noting positions of high ground - structures and trees, mostly - gauges daylight remaining, then addresses Oleg and Svetlana. "Please forgive my abruptness, but we may be pressed for time; please answer these few questions as best you can, as they will lay some foundation for planning our defense. You mentioned that fewer come each time. How many were here last, and do you know where they are based, or from what direction they will approach? Do you have anyone that can operate those catapults? What other sorts of defenses - or defenders, for that matter - do you have at your disposal?"
This is very different from the tactics I was taught as a child - we were ever able to hide and retreat. Hopefully one of these others has more experience...
Wallop looks around the fort for the most defensible positions then he looks at the others and says if were set on beating down some bandits, I've some experience with planning tactics. I've spent several years with the freedom fighters in Cheliax.
He pauses and looks at Marius to see how he responds to that then he continues so if you'll allow me this indulgence I suggest place all those who can shoot from a distance up in the high places. I will hide behind the gates and once they are in I will slam them shut to cut off retreat. That will be the signal to attack. Shooters shoot. Hackers hack. Casters cast. Surprise is the key. If we catch them off guard and pound them hard early, they will be more likely to give up. Perhaps we can save a few of their wretched lives. Oleg, your wife shouldn't be seen. You should be here visible long enough to greet them but when things get bloody you should go inside.
Svetlana is nearly in tears from the amount of support the notion of dispatching the bandits is receiving. Even Oleg seems rather impressed. After she composes herself, Svetlana replies.
"Thank you so much. Thank you all. To answer your questions one-by-one: we have ample bait. We usually put out our payment to them on these tables here when they come in. They'll ride in through the East gate , take a few minutes to count it up and pack it away, then ride back out again. They're often in a big hurry, so I'd imagine that their base of operations is about a day's journey away. Exactly where that is, we don't know.
Last time there were six of them last month, and if they still think we aren't a threat there may be as few as three this time. They no longer come with that axe-woman, but always with the crude bowman.
The catapults haven't worked for years. This trading post is a leftover fort from when Taldan forces tried ton conquer the Stolen Lands. The catapults haven't been operational in decades, from what I can tell. If you knew what you were doing, you could probably get the supplies here to repair them in a week but not by tomorrow. As for defenders, it's just me and Oleg here. Otherwise we might have stood a fighting chance when the brigands first showed their ugly heads."
Oleg pipes in at Wallop's plan, "Yeah! Trap 'em like the rats they are! And no, there's no way Svetlana's gonna be anywhere near them when they come. Hell, I might even give 'em the old one-two myself!" Oleg aims a pair clumsy punches at an invisible assailant. His battle prowess does not inspire confidence.
"Maybe you lot ain't so bad after all. Here, lemme give you a tour of the ol' post. Maybe that'll help you in your plans."
Oleg shows you the fortifications and buildings inside the walls. He also formally introduces himself and his wife as "Oleg and Svetlana Leveton."
A1.Market Yard: This open area is where trade takes place. The two tables near the fire pit are used to display wares and serve food to visitors, while bulky trade goods are offloaded into the storage pen.
A2. Guesthouse: Oleg says that he usually rents out the beds in this guesthouse to anyone who wishes to stay the night at a rate of 5 sp a bed per night. A rustic breakfast and filling dinner is included in that price.
A3. Stable: Oleg keeps his jittery horse Claptrap here. He rents out the other stalls to visitors’ steeds at a rate of 2 sp per stall per night—that price includes a day’s worth of water and feed and a complimentary rub down for the horse. He says that you can stock your horses there free of charge for now. He may have winced a little while saying it.
A4. Storage Pen: This fenced area has a wooden roof to keep off most of the rain and snow—trade goods like furs and other goods are stored here until enough build up to warrant a trip to the city to sell them off. The pen is currently empty, as Oleg’s been forced to turn over his stock to the bandits.
A5. Middens: Three 3-foot-deep composting pits and middens.
A6. Main Hall: This squat but solid wooden building is Oleg and Svetlana’s home and the storeroom for the trading post. The double doors leading out into the market yard can be barred but not locked.
A7. Dining Room: This is a comfortable room with a few chairs and a table—the Levetons use this room primarily as a dining room.
A8. Office: This room is where Oleg keeps his ledgers and meets with important visitors—in theory. As of yet, no one of importance has bothered visiting the trading post, he says with a sigh.
A9. Stockroom: This room is used to store the trading post’s stock. Oleg hints that he's been able to hide a few of the more valuable items from the bandits in here, but he doesn't say exactly what.
A10. Storeroom: This room contains two barrels of drinking water, a half-full barrel of lantern oil, three common lamps, a dozen candles, a week’s worth of firewood, a hooded lantern, 70 feet of hemp rope, a tent, and enough food (mostly cheese, hard bread, and dried venison) to last for 2 weeks. Oleg says that if you need any of these objects for the bandits, he's glad to volunteer them.
A11. Bedroom: This modest bedroom is where the Levetons sleep. Nothing else of note here.
"I believe Sir Fey has the makings of a great plan. I will wait here tomorrow and when the bandits approach, offer them an opportunity to surrender. If they refuse, well, Father Torag will aid us as we met His justice."
The dwarf and halfling both seem to be close-range warriors, and the goblin would seem to be better at range. I can do either. While Aerynne's...creature...seems like it might be capable enough in a fight, I'm not sure about what she or the Chelaxian can do. So..., he looks around once more, then makes his tactical suggestions.
"I will, unless there are objections, climb up one of the towers near the gate. Unless I'm wrong, the goblin is going to be most effective at range, and thus should be on the tower on the other side of the gate...assuming she is going to assist us?" He peers at Scraps, sizing her up.
He focuses his attention on Wallop and Morgrym. "If they have an archer, as we suspect, I suggest that you position yourselves such that his companions are between you and the archer once the fighting starts. We," indicating the goblin and himself, "will concentrate our fire on the archer until he drops, then do what we can to help you. If they find or fight their way out of the gate, I can climb down or jump off the outer wall and attempt to intercept them."
He looks at Aerynee, Marius, Oleg, and Svetlana, "It would likely be best for you four to step out of sight once the fighting starts - it would be a shame for a stray arrow to find you - though, Aerynne, if your companion is able to fight, we could likely use its help."
It is nearing sunset. Oleg has started to get a bonfire going in the courtyard and Svetlana has busied herself in the kitchen, preparing the evening meal.
Scraps nods vigorously at Gerran's plan, and her part in it. She is anxious to prove herself to these companions who doubt her because of her race and stature.
Oleg, with some convincing from Svetlana, finally agrees to put himself out of harm's way once fighting begins. The conversation ends with a bit of Oleg's seemingly characteristic impetuousness: "I ain't no coward, though! If one o' them starts attackin' me, they'll regret it!" Svetlana smiles and sighs, returning afterward to the venison in the kitchen.
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Aerynne's left eyebrow arches towards the sky, and she laughs rather curtly at the obvious subtext to Gerran's comment. "You don't need to worry about me," she says bemusedly. "I'm not as powerless as you seem to have assumed."
As she speaks, Aerynne idly makes a few strange gestures in the air before a small green summoning circle appears in the air above her palm. A strange, putrid, bubbling, bog-like substance emerges from the magic circle for a moment before the half-elf blows on it, shattering the magic into tiny motes of green light shaped like leaves.
"I can manage a crossbow as well," she adds breezily, almost as an afterthought. "The plan sounds all good to me, though."
Her point made, Aerynne proceeds to fetch the coneys and yams Cadeyrn hunted earlier that day and heads on into the kitchens to assist Svetlana with dinner preparation.
Wallop considers the dwarfs suggested changes and then offers the following Sir Dwarf, if you mean to offer them a chance to surrender might I make an adjustment? These are bandits and bullies to boot. I doubt very much they will take surrender terms and I'd hate to lose the chance to surprise them. If they see a heavily armored dwarf here they will be suspicion for certain.
The halfling considers his words before continuing perhaps someone less intimidating should offer these terms?
"I don't expect them to surrender. It would be remiss not to offer them to opportunity to do so but, from what we've already heard of these men, I don't think there is any way this won't get violent. Which is why I recommended myself to offer the terms. Torag gives his protection to his faithful, but a good set of armour never hurts. It would be a shame if one of you were to get hurt when such could be avoided."
Marius' reaction to Wallop's confession is visible on his face, but he speaks nothing. A rebel? Well, we will have to watch that one. He frowns at the Halfling. As Gerran outlines his plan, he smirks. "Like Aerynne, I am a wielder of the magical arts. I will be able to restrict the enemy's movements and to enhance one of you. Perhaps the Slip would like to be enlarged so he may... hit harder and present a more imposing obstacle to the Bandits." he says, then gathers his crossbow from Sifkesh's bundle. "And I also can use one of these. I know I look a little... soft. For this frontier life, but know that I have wit, and knowledge, and magic as my allies."
Wallop chuckles at the bravado shown on the eve of battle. It seems it's always like this. Posturing and chest thumping. Then once things get bloody one of them is probably going to pee themselves. That'd be a sight!
Ok then, it's settled. The dwarf offers terms here near the 'loot' with Oleg. Mr. Oleg sir, you have a wife to look after. I appreciate your willingness to get in there and bonk some skulls but you should think of the bigger picture. An arrow to the knee could really put an end to your adventuring career ... or so I've been told by many a guard anyways. I will hide behind the open gates to shut them and cut off retreat at Morgrym's signal and then rush in to flank. The rest of you should choose your places that best serve your skills. Morgrym, we just need to settle on a signal to attack. What say you? What shall be the signal?
Slip? What's he talking about? Who is he referring to? Me?
Marius, I'd just as soon not have you casting spells on me. I like my size well enough. It serves me well in battle when my foe's underestimate me.
Svetlana begins serving dinner, assisted by Aerynne, at the picnic tables and suggests that you stable your steeds before the meal so that Oleg might feed them. Oleg, in standard fashion, grumbles something along the lines of "Free food, free beds, free oats, why don't we give them a free potion or two? Or a free horse? Or a free..."
The sun is setting lower and lower, causing the meal to soon be lit solely by the firelight. Your conversation continues.
Before dinner, Gerran takes advantage of Svetlana's generosity and leads his horse to the stables, then feeds and curries him. He spends the remaining time before dinner playing fetch with his dog. As the group gathers for the meal, Gerran pulls Aerynne and Marius aside. "So you are both users of magic? I admit, I do not have experience with those matters. If you are able to keep the brigands from retaliating or from running, or can increase our ability to wound them, these would be helpful indeed."
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Cadeyrn settles down near the entrance to the stables as Aerynne helps Svetlana with the food, apparently content to watch over and listen to the proceedings in silence.
After helping bring all the dishes outside, Aerynne decides to heed Svetlana's advice and settle Bramble into the stables for the evening. Before she can do so, though, Gerran calls her and the Chelaxian over to talk. His comments give the half-elf woman a hint of a smile about her lips, but she knows better than to ridicule the catfolk for his lack of understanding. It was not long ago that she herself would've been equally as inexperienced in the ways of the arcane.
"Mostly what I do is call creatures of the wild to me. Cadeyrn is much stronger than them individually, though. Given a chance, I could cover the ground around the gate with thick slime. It won't block their movement, but it will slow them down and perhaps make them fall over."
Gerran nods at Aerynne, "Slowing them down and making them fall over are both desirable. It may be that if they are particularly clumsy, we might avoid shedding any blood but theirs."
He directs his attention, then, to Marius...
With most of the planning seemingly finished, Morgrym also leads his horse into the stables. A couple of minutes pass while he unsaddles the animal and ensures it has feed and water. When he again emerges from the stable he is carrying a tankard full of a golden brown liquid and a worn but well kept oilskin journal. He accepts one of the offered meal plates from Svetlana which he takes over to the far table with his back to the rest of the group. He climbs a little awkwardly onto a stool obviously meant for taller men before settling into his food and drink, making notes in his journal all the while.
Marius spends his time, once Sifkesh is turned over to Oleg, walking the walls, surveying the fort and making notes on a page of parchment. More than once you can see him muttering to himself in frustration. Over dinner he makes conversation with Svetlana and Oleg, quizzing them about merchant traffic, the local inhabitants, the bandits, other creatures that live in the area and any natural features of interest. Gerran's inquiry of him makes him smile very slightly. "I also know that particular spell. I can also act on objects at a distance and make a person larger and stronger. The rest of my spells are defensive in nature. I also have a healing spell I can prepare should the need arise." he says proudly.
As dinner is set upon the table, Wallop gestures to their hosts Svetlana and Oleg and says quietly "under normal circumstances this would be considered rude but as we are on the eve of battle I hope you do not mind. My family used to make wines of renowned quality. With your blessing, I'd like serve some with dinner this evening as I have some in my pack."
Wallop stands up and begins to pour a serving of fine Chelaxian Merlot with a peculiar symbol on the label; a pixie peeking out from behind a bunch of grapes. Wallop announces as he pours from my families own private label. I've but a few bottles left from before my parents passed away and I'd like to share it with all of you. Perhaps one day I will continue on the family ... ahem ... business. Wallop thinks to himself as he pours for Marius I wonder if he would recognize the label?
After everyone has been served, Wallop finds a crate to put on the human sized seat and climbs up to his seat. From your perspective he does kind of look like a young child as he proposes a toast To our greatest success tomorrow in freeing these two business owners from their oppressors!
When life throws you lemons, bless your luck cause here comes dinner!
On the Road
In the Yard
I wonder why they want to help the human woman so much but hates me. Come to think on it, I wonder why they like each other. Will they try to kill me? Definitely a possibility, I best be careful.
Scraps takes no part in the planning but never leaves Aerynne's side. From this vantage, she once again notices the venom, now targeting the elf and halfling.
They don't be liking the halfling either. Is this just Restov all over again? Why would the dwarf be sidin' with the big folk though? It don't matter none though, cause me warrant be just as valid as their'n.
Scraps seems to be on her best behavior at dinner that night, even trying to use the silverware. By the time Wallop offers wine however, she's got gravy all the way across her face and half way up one ear. She's busy trying to wipe it all off with a cloth napkin when the halfling makes his toast. Pulling the napkin from her ear, she looks a little confused.
What'd he say? Something about oppressors..."
Jumping up to stand in her seat she passionately exclaims, "Down with oppressors and up with owners and...business...and..." seeming at a loss, she looks around the table, but grows scared when she sees the dwarf and catman. Desperate to return to her seat, she looks over to Aerynne, her eyes pleading for help.
Marius accepts the wine graciously.
An eyebrow arches when he sees the label on the bottle. That cannot be correct. This is his family's wine? I know of the winery it's said to come from, but... Marius narrows his eyes as Wallop makes his toast, and he smiles politely at the sentiment while his mind mulls it over. This is a very fine wine. I have seldom tasted its vintage. Perhaps he stole it. Yes, that must be it.
Scraps' addition elicits an incredulous look from Marius, and he snickers behind his wine cup.
Morgrym accepts the wine when offered and raises his glass at the toast, but otherwise spends the meal in silence.
The plan seeming solid and the dinner finished, you all retire to bed in your own manner.
Oleg wakes you all at dawn the next morning. Svetlana has already prepared a moderate breakfast, knowing that you all may be engaged in battle very soon. You all have ample time to move to your places of battle. Oleg puts out his "taxes" on the picnic tables while Svetlana worriedly retires to her bedroom. From the Levetons' descriptions, you anticipate that the Bandits will be there within the hour.
That morning, Marius addresses Morgrym. "Sir, I am a mage, and am able to cast a spell that can make you larger and stronger. I will prepare and cast that on you if you wish." he says. "If not, I will ready other magic instead."
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Aerynne wasn't particularly knowledgeable about magic on the whole, but what little she knew was that it was generally the more pious types that could perform healing magic. Her father could, for one; she could distinctly remember him completely removing the pain in her arm when she dislocated it one afternoon on the farm. So maybe Marius was a servant of some deity? But which? He doesn't seem the part though… how odd.
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After finally getting Bristle settled down in the stables, Aerynne joins the group for dinner – and wine, apparently. Never one to turn down free alcohol, she accepts a glass with a grin, and gleefully joins in on the toast to their success. Normally she would not have added anything else to the toast, but Scraps' pitiful look and the obvious snickering coming from Marius across the table cause the half-elf to change her mind. She briefly flashes Scraps a wink and a small smile before standing up herself. "Indeed! Down with oppression and discrimination! May everyone have the chance to experience all the joys of life without living in fear!" Perhaps there was a subtle suggestion there. Perhaps not.
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Aerynne isn't fussy about sleeping conditions, taking a bed or a spot in the corner depending on what's available and falling asleep almost instantly. Outside, as soon as Aerynne slips into the depths of sleep, Cadeyrn's form becomes distant and mist-like before disappearing on the wind into the aether.
Come the next morning, Aerynne quickly cleans herself up before strapping on her leather armour and double-checking her crossbow by firing a couple of test shots into one of the walls. She seems serious this morning, much unlike her usual easy-going self. At some point she summons Cadeyrn back to her, and he easily steps through a shimmering and mist-like summoning circle Aerynne creates in the air.
When the time of arrival begins to loom, Aerynne climbs up the ladder to the palisade surrounding the fort and scouts out what she can see from up there. Cadeyrn, meanwhile, lingers just outside the gate, keeping a watchful eye out on the horizon for any sight of the incoming bandits.
When offerred a glass of the wine, he accepts it with a nod, then nurses it through the meal. He gives Scraps an odd look upon her exclamation, but keeps silent.
When he awakes, he eats a small breakfast, then goes to the yard and limbers up with some swings of his greatsword. Then, in preparation for battle, he checks his arrows, making sure the fletching is secure and they are true.
When that is done, he climbs one of the towers and lays there in wait.
"Thank you, enchanter, but no. Father Torag naturally made the stout folk the perfect height. Though it would be interesting to lumber around like the giants for awhile, I must decline."
After talking with Marius, Morgrym takes up his position next to the "offering table". Once there, hedrives his shield into the ground. The hammer and anvil picted on the front serve as a makeshift alter and Morgrym spends his remaining time honing the blades of his axe as he prays in the Dwarven tongue.
"Waazk'ah Kurhazk, our' poahk'at k'a thkur'k waurng wahurl k'a thrhazhgth urwa our'h waurhka. Zha azha our'h waazgurhat zi'anthar azrt our' 'azga kaz'k'k 'th k'a zhazoth urwa k'a thlak'. Po'k our' 'azga aznthur kaz'k'k 'th k'a zhazoth urwa k'a zhazhhaurh k'azk zha lazo tawaart ur'hthangath azrt urk'ahth wahurl k'a azpourlarazkaurrth k'azk arkh'ta urr our'h turlazar. Kurtazo, A 'tha lo th'aant kur rhhurkazik k'urtha ar raat azrt lo azqa kur pohark dr'thkazia kur k'urtha zh'ur zhur'nt rhhurwaak k'hur'k' k'a lathaho urwa urk'ahth. Thkharkk'ar lo azhl, 'urra lo azqa, azrt waurhkawao lo th'aant. Thkurra art'hath azrt thur tur our'h waazak'wa'."
Wallop heads to bed fairly early and rises before the sun comes up. In the morning he spends a few moments checking about the courtyard and fortifications and then the rest of his time is spent honing his greatsword. As the others arise, he greets each in turn and then he makes his way over to the dwarf and says Sir dwarf, we still haven't agreed on a signal to attack. Once negotiations have failed, we need a signal that will tell me to slam the gates shut and rush in to your side.
After conversing with Morgrym, Wallop takes up position behind the gates.
Stealth Roll:
"I think will work.
So much for the element of surprise Wallop thinks to himself as he toddles off towards his position behind the gates chuckling.
Marius nods to Morgrym and walks away to prepare his spells for the day, rolling his eyes when out of sight of the Dwarf. When he is prepared, he sets himself up on the wall opposite to Aerynne with his crossbow and ammunition. When he doesn't think he can wait any longer he casts two spells. The first results in a shell of pale, silvery force to envelop him before fading from view. The second conjures a swirl of air that coalesces into an amorphous shape with arms before it, too disappears. He then goes prone.
Scraps joins Aerynne on the wall, ducking behind a parapet beside her. She carefully loads her rifle from her powder horn and checks the five cartridges in her bandolier.
Satisfied that she's ready, she lays down, curls up and closes her eyes. As the morning birds chirp, they are joined by the sound of her light snores.
Wallop shifts a bit uncomfortably while hiding behind the gate. Waiting for a fight is worse than actually taking part in one he thinks to himself. He quickly glances around at the strategic locations of each of his peers and gives a mild grunt of approval. This will do ... provided they don't bring a small army in here.
The bandits arrive as predicted, approaching from the south on horseback about an hour after sunrise. They arrogantly ride in, already making crude comments about Svetlana and threats against Oleg in what seems like passing conversation. One at the front seems to be the leader, barking at his men to stay in line. Then they notice Morgrym.
The bandits immediately clam up and act stiff. The leader clears his throat and says: "Afternoon Dwarf. We're simple travelers looking for a place to stay for the night. Any idea who's in charge here?" He smirks, and glances in Oleg's general direction. The man's lies have Oleg fuming, but has reined in his anger thus far.
"I am Morgrym Hammergun, son of Thonin Hammergun, Stonelord of Highhelm and emissary of High King Borogrim. I already know who you are and the crimes you have committed. Today, your banditry ends and you will face the judgement of Torag, Dwarf-Father. Surrender now and repent your crimes and you may yet receive mercy. If you choose to fight or flee, death shall be your sentence. You can not win this fight, I offer you these terms as an act of mercy. I say one last time, dismount your horses, throw down your weapons, and turn yourselves over lest you face Torag's wrath."
"I... er... s~@*." The bandit leader is obviously not prepared for this turn of events.
"Ah, f+~% it. ATTACK, YOU SONS OF WHORES!"
Bandit initiative
Player initiative
Morgrym:
Scraps:
Aerynne:
Marius:
Wallop:
Gerran:
The leader draws his bow and fires an arrow at the dwarf, but it bounces off Morgrym's armor. The remaining bandits dismount from their horses and draw their swords.
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As Morgrym "greets" the bandits with his rather straightforward demand for surrender, Aerynne shifts to a crouching position, crossbow resting on one knee. She begins to quietly mutter in Sylvan beneath her breath, reaching out to rest one hand on Scraps' shoulder. The goblin feels a sudden rush of warmth move through her from where Aerynne is touching. Aerynne gives Scraps a reassuring smile before turning her gaze back on the bandits. Five of them... We outnumber them. Excellent.
It's okay, I'll count it. They didn't perceive it.
Scraps wakes up as the bandits approach and everyone gets ready. She blinks her eyes for a moment before realizing where she is. She rolls over and stretches out on the parapet, her rifle pointed down at the ground beneath her.
Ma, Da, please be watchin o'er me this day. Five be awful young an I doan wanna be dyin on this beautiful morn.
She is obsolutely silent as the dwarf states his terms and for just a second she hopes the bandits really might surrender. Her eyes narrow as the first arrow flies and she sighs quietly. As she pulls the trigger, the bright light in her eyes dims a little.
edit: shot vs touch ac within 40'