[ooc] I wonder how much value the goods have? [/b]
"People neither of these men are the one you think they are, now what? As for my store idea have none of you the gumption that this does not have to be only a store but a center of operations that we can temporarily use until something better arrives."
Dagru tosses the book to his brother. "See what you think, brother."
Grautak thumbs through the book and grunts. "Looks like the simpleton has found a better home with Oleg. As for a trading post? We got too many other things we gotta take care of. Let's make a deal with Oleg to give him all the items we find and don't want for a percentage of the profits. As for this crap here, let's just give it to him. Most of it is probably his anyway"
Rockne continues to look over the loot as the hobgoblins question their latest prisoner.
"Anybody see Svetlana's wedding ring?"
The Lady Vianella Orlovsky nods at Gird's thanks. "Further healing seem unnecessary for the moment. The rest of us seem unharmed," she replies as she glances at the others, her eyes purposefully passing over the bloody corpses of the now-dead bandits.
The noblewoman likewise ignores their new captives in favor of looking at each of her companions as they spoke. "I am unsure that this would necessarily be an ideal 'base of operations'... As Grautak mentioned, we have many other duties on our list, making it impossible to defend whilst we are away. Anything we leave behind here will likely be gone on our return. This place was," she continues, reaching down and plucking up the second medallion they had found setting it to spinning, "after all, merely an arm of this Stag Lord the other had mentioned," she continued. "Although if and when we deal with this individual this area may become safer, it is something to consider further down our path, not at this moment."
She turns to Rockne at his question and then begins to sort through what they have found. "Hmm... It seems not to be here. I can't see it as being something more valuable than the goods here and thus worthy of a better hiding spot. Svetlana may be out of luck for the moment."
Trent says, "A couple bags of loot were stolen yesterday by a group of filthy mites. The annoying little bastards escaped with both bags. They probably fled to their lair under the old sycamore..."
Grautak leans down and puts his bloodied face right in front of the bandit.
"And where is this Sycamore?"
"I've never been there myself. Kressy had said they were holed up about a half days ride southwest of here."
Dagru listens as his companions dismiss his idea. He realizes the thought of a base of operations without more people working with them was idiotic at best.
"Ok I am convinced given our number we could not have hoped this would work as a trading post. Let's do what we came for..."
He looks around at the loot and the captives and starts packing it up.
" Come on now this stuff won't bag itself." Gather it up, trade it to Oleg, drop the fools and then we talk future plans."
"And what about our newest prisoner? Should we just kill him like we did the others? Or do we give him the chance to earn his life?"
"I find it interesting how a person will fight loyally to nearly the last man, but once they become that last man, that loyalty disappears. Our last prisoner, honestly, didn't have much time to think about it, but these two did. Their leader was taken down at the very first, yet they fought on. If they were being forced into their life, could that not have been the moment to escape it?" the Lady Vianella Orlovsky asks before finally turning to the bandits, focusing on the uninjured one, in order to keep her composure. "Trent is it? How did you 'get by' before you joined these people and this 'Stag Lord'?"
"Let's take'em back to Olegs. We can decide what todo with them there. The ride back gives them time to talk".
"Ain't gonna lie, ma'am, I've been livin' the rough life for a while now. And tell me, what do ye expect us to do when all we can really see is that we get attacked in the middle of the f~@$in' night, by hobgoblins no less!? Of course I'm gonna fight to the bitter end! How was I supposed ta know what was going on in the damned dark?" Trent answers Lady Orlovsky as the others gather up the goods.
"Let us finish our work, tie these fools to the trees, and drink... no celebrate our first accomplishment."
Dagru finishes gathering the items and decides to take one bottle of the liquor. He holds it up and yells,
"Celebrate tonight for we are Victors!"
"Thank you for the healing, Gird. Let's split some of me brother's finest in celebration!"
The contents of the bottle are a greenish herbal liquor of strong but pleasing taste, but a sharp after-bite. The group celebrates and relishes in their victory at the camp, and before long, awaken to light beginning to shine through the cracks in the canopy above. Both bandits are still tied to the trees you left them at.
"Let's head back to Oleg's and drop these two off. Then we can head southwest to this 'sycamore' and recover some this loot."
"yeah, let's heas back. Although I'm not sure Oleg is going to like his new job as warden to all the bandits we capture!"
[i] at some point we're going to need a better plan. The old man isn't going to be able to handle three prisoners....[/b]
Vianella nods at Gird's assertion. "That could be a distinct possibility. But at least it will give Svetlana's husband the satisfaction he so craves."
"For once we all agree. Now I say why do we bother dragging them along at all? Why not hand them here and travel in peace?"
The halfling keeps himself busy with packing the gear for their return to Olegs. He's not squeamish about hanging the criminals, and he certainly knows they have earned it for their crimes, but he cannot help but think of how different his life would have been if he had not gotten a second chance.
let the talky types hash this one out. Not everyone deserves a second chance.... Do they?
The new day upon us Dagru looks to the others for a decision.
"We have no more time to squabble about these fools. We hang them here for their crimes. Justice is Justice."
Dagru finishes packing his gear and then begins setting up a tree for the hanging with rope on hand.
"Who well help me?"
As you approach Oleg's, you can see three armored shapes moving along the walls, as well as banners flying from the four corners of the outpost bearing the Brevish Crest. From the walls hang the bodies of the bandits you left behind, stripped of most of their clothes, nooses tied around their necks and up to the walls above. Nailed to their chests are small wooden placards with the word "BANDIT" painted in red across it. You can hear hammering going on beyond the wall, and as you ride in, you can see that Oleg has indeed put Brian to work on helping repair the place.
Approaching your group as you make your way to the gate is an armored man with a large sword strapped to his back. He holds up a gauntleted hand and calls out, "State your business!"
Oleg looks up and smiles, yelling from the rooftop, "It's alright, Kesten! They're the ones with the charters! They are welcome here anytime!"
The man looks you over and nods, then stands to the side of the path and gestures for you to enter, though he keeps a wary eye on Dagru and Grautak.
You can see that there are two tents set up in the shadow of the stables that appear to be where these men are making camp. Nearby, a freshly constructed bulletin stands nailed to a post, with several fliers already hanging there.
"Well fellows do you deserve to live and if so why? what crimes have you committed? The truth will set you free."
Trent looks at the half-elf and answers, "Look, I ain't killed nobody. But I ain't gonna lie, I have ran with this group long enough to have robbed a few fur traders and hunters, as well as make a run to Oleg's once. But, I've also been to the big bosses place down by the lake. And I got me some information that could be useful, if you all take a fancy to rid the Greenbelt of his presence."
He shifts around on his haunches, trying to get into a more comfortable position. "Our boss, the real boss that Kressle answered to, is a monster of a man. Calls himself the Stag Lord. He's a deadeye with they 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 the crew thought he ain't got no face under it, but not me...I bet that creepy ass helm is his face!"
He looks Gird straight in the eye and adds, "About that other bit of information, I'm going to need some assurances that I'm going to live before I part with it."
Dagru now silent after the dismissal from camp a day before on the hanging just listens attentively as the others speak today.
Bah I say nothing today. Hopefully they will negotiate a good price on our loot.
He also keeps close attention to the new faces in town.
Walking over to the prisoner, Grautak stares at him hard. He leans in closer, right in the man's face.
"The proof is in the pudding. Give us the information, we check it out and if it is good then you get to keep your life. If it ain't...."
He then turns and walks back to the group, pondering this new bit of information about the "Stag Lord".
"Sounds like someone else is trying to claim this land for themselves. Also seems like this "Stag Lord" has gathered a bunch of bandits to do his bidding. Any of you ever hear of this "Stag Lord" before today?"
Trent matches Grautak's glare with his own, and says, "I tell you, you still hang me. I need to have it proven to me that I have a life after I talk, or else I take it with me to the grave, goblin!"
Vianella ignored their captives on the ride back to the trading post, although she does take the time to make sure the injured man doesn't succumb to his injuries. Trent... no, no names, I don't need to remember the name of a dead man... The talker... yes, that works... is clearly a brute that likes the sound of his own voice, clearly lacking in any remorse... I expect the injured man is similar, although he doesn't talk nearly as much...
--------
At their arrival at Oleg's, Vianella's eyes are first drawn to the banners blowing in the breeze. The Brevish crest? It seems we have received some reinforcements... I wonder who... Oh my god! The noblewoman pales and turns a little green as her eyes finally notice the bodies hanging from the walls. I wonder if these two will be adorning the walls shortly...? She inadvertently glances at the prisoners before turning back to their destination, taking a few deep calming breaths in order to fortify herself. The arrival of the man trying to stop them helped her focus herself away from the macabre scene. Who does he think he is? she wonders before Oleg's call causes the man to relax.
"Kesten?" the noblewoman blurts out in shock. "Kesten of House... Gar... Er... Formerly of House... Oh nevermind. My apologies... You have been something of a household name among my friends back home... Giving up your House for love. Like from the story books... Oh my... I apologize... I'm babbling. Please forgive me. I am the Lady Vianella of House Orlovsky," she she starts over after having gotten control of herself after meeting a 'celebrity'. After introducing the others of the group she continues. "As Svetlana's husband has mentioned, we are the ones charged with the charter in this area. Pray, what brings you and yours here? Not that this place couldn't use some fortification and guards..."
She sighs for a moment as the others begin to talk to their talkative prisoner. Giving a weak smile and shrug to Kesten, she turns to give her input on the situation. "The charter is clear. 'Unrepentant banditry' and all that. A repentant man would not try to bargain his way into a longer life, but would trust in his faith that, upon doing the right thing, would be redeemed, whether in this life or the next. Thus, the man falls under the directive of sword or noose."
"Yes, he has information that may be of interest. We are likely, however, to cross path with this 'Stag Lord' in the course of our expedition. On the other hand, I have heard of methods of getting men to talk. Rather painful I hear... and becomes quite the limitation in their future quality of life. Of course, I have no interest in such heinous and disgusting attempts to gather information. Someone else would have to take care of that. I say hang him out like the others. Perhaps we can beseech Abadar for the opportunity to speak to his spirit in the afterlife. He'll probably be more compliant then."
Rockne feels the pride of a job well done as they return to the trading post. They had set out to prove themselves and they did, against not one but two superior forces. Clearly there is still work to be done, with or without this new prisoner's information, but the group is well on their way to making a name for themselves in these untamed lands.
Then the long legged monkey shatters all those good feelings with three short words. Rockne feels his teeth clench, his hand flexing as he gets ready to draw his sword just as the old trader speaks up for them from above. Must be your lucky day, ya big armored git. Oleg just saved your life....
The halfling barely listens to the lordly-types as they exchange names and secret handshakes or whatever. He almost chuckles at the thought of trying to fit into that world, all powdered and primped at some dinner or function. No, out here in the wilds is where he belongs, where he can earn a reputation. A life.
His attention is drawn back to reality as the Lady Vianella tries to reason with their latest whining prisoner. Again he is torn between the notion of second chances and the reality of the world around him.
"If you've got magics to drag the truth out of him alive or dead then why are we still talking to him? If he can't figure out what 'repentant' means and be helpful, Im sure another cursed soul on The Acre can 'splain it to him."
After Trent spits the racial epithet at Grautak, the hobgoblin spins around drawing his sword and beheads Trent. He then walks over to the other bandit. "You ready to give up the info or do you want to end up like Trent?"
Dagru draws his bow and protects Grautak in case of retalization.
|
Gird is quite shocked at the Actions of Grautak and given further pause by the offensive actions of Dagru..
"Methinks that for two who like to do such forceful actions you might need to grow a thicker skin and you Dagru, who do you plan on using that bow on? If you both keep up such offensive actions you will end up forcing us to work together to counter any actions you may take for simple likelyhood that you will attack us"
Grautak motions for Dagru to lower his bow. "Brother, lower your bow. We are in no danger here." He then bids Gird to walk aside with him.
Kesten bows to Vianella upon her introduction, replying politely, "Lady Orlovsky, Lord Medvyed, it is an honor to make your acquaintances. When I heard the call for a need of men to guard this Trading Post from bandit raids, I volunteered myself and my men to undertake the task. Partly for a way to do something...right...but mainly? Mainly I'm looking for a man I had worked with while I was a mercenary that betrayed us and killed some of our number. I would see him do justice for what he has done, and I have a strong feeling that he is somewhere here in the Stolen Lands. I have posted a flier on Oleg's Board there, should you be interested in keeping an eye out for the scum while you are out dealing with the rest of these bandits."
Perhaps surprisingly, the new guards do not appear to react to Grautak's outburst, beyond keeping sidelong glances on the pair of hobgoblins in the courtyard. Kesten himself sets a stern gaze on Grautak, but makes no move to intervene.
Walter gasps for breath, the arrow still lodged deep in his lung, and painfully adds, "I'll talk...I'll talk...just please promise...to take the arrow out...or put me out of my misery! I can't...take the pain anymore!"
"It's...hard keeping track...of who's working for the boss. We use a code phrase...to get into his fort. It's on...on the northeast shore of the...the Tuskwater. Unless they cha...changed it...the phrase is...'By the Bloody...Bones of St...Gilmorg...who wants to know?' I don't...don't know who 'St. Gilmorg' is."