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Choking, gagging and gasping as he involuntarily swallows the foul alchemists fire, the Stag Lord's piteous screams and death throes are truly terrible to behold and to hear and no one, not even the most hardened warrior in the fort, could help but wince in sympathy for the fallen bandit lord. Gurgling one final time as the flaming substance finishes its passage into his lungs, the bandit lord of the Greenbelt dies- his dreams of conquest shattered, much like the lining of his lungs.
Zzzzzzzzzzzz
Zzzzzzzzzzz......
A murmur of worry echoes through the noises of battle in the common room as their mighty, drunken leader falls into Slumber...
Perception DC12:
You hear a loud THUMP, like the sound of somebody landing hard on wood, coming from the south-west tower. Perception DC14:
The thump was preceded by a surprised gasp of pain. Perception DC17:
Moments later, you hear the soft sound of a sword being drawn from a sheath. Perception DC19:
You hear a voice a moment later, softly saying- Murder of a fellow member of the fort is punishable by death, Celthric.
Perception DC21:
The voice is Akiros'- and you hear a whisper of movement that you recognise to be the sound of a fast sword swing- and hear the distinct gurgling of a man choking out blood from a mortal wound. DM Only:
Dovan Sense Motive- 9 By this time, Kalev has returned to the common room- and the bandits mostly jerk to alertness as the Stag Lord emerges into the room, brandishing a bottle of brandy. Smashing the empty bottle against the stone wall, he roars in drunken fury-
Very well- you were right to come straight here. Kressle is a problem for another day; but rest assured, that traitorous b~#*@ will get whats coming to her. The three of you have all done well. Akiros, have the finest alcohol brought to my chamber and distribute a few barrels of ale to the men. Oh, and pay these fine earners a bonus for their troubles. His piece said, The Stag Lord moves off through the common room, pausing to sneer at the caged Owlbear before moving through Akiros' bedroom into his own, out of sight. You can see Dovan watching you closely as most of the bandits cheer for the Stag Lord. Three of them return to watchtower duty, while the rest wait eagerly for the celebrations to come.
The Stag Lord is a powerful looking man, heavy set and tall with a fine bow over his shoulder and a fine sword strapped to his waist. His unique leather armour appears to only cover his chest, but glows softly with magic. His face is not visible, covered as it is with his trademark stag helm. He moves over to Casimir, and places a firm hand on his shoulder. A fine shipment indeed... A mighty haul you took, if this is merely tribute and not the whole horde... Perhaps you can tell us exactly who you are and how you took such a prize with just the three of you before we invite you to dine and drink in our castle?... |