Aivar flashes a confused smile at Jhod when he and Merrim have a bonding moment over their shared inability to speak in a proper manner. He's happy nonetheless to see that Merrim likes the priest because Jhod might be the right person to talk to, to ensure she gets a new home and life. An already established sense of trust between the two might make Merrim want to say 'yes' to such a suggestion.
It is Sasha's panicky tone that pulls Aivar back to here and now, and he raises her a concerned look. "We'll have to sit down and discuss what to do next later, but for now, how about we all relax and celebrate?! The bandits have been scattered to the wind, their leaders killed, and their stronghold dismantled. There's still much to do, but the Gods know we deserve a breather!"
And there is still much to do. In his head, Aivar is busy making a list of what has to be done as soon as possible. Talk to Jhod about Merrim. If that fails, talk to Svetlana about Merrim. Talk to Oleg about what set him off. Have a chat with Garess about what can be done with the remnants of the Taldoran fortress. Put together the political situation to avoid any nasty surprises upon our return to Brevoy. Figure out what to do with the massive donation from the church of Erastil. Think harder to make this list grow so I have an excuse to say 'no, there's stuff to do' when Tristan tells me to play the song I came up with in front of a crowd.
Arriving back at the outpost, Nariel sets about to unpacking and reviewing the loot log she had made. Glancing over at Merrim, Nariel smiles as the girl appears to have formed a bond with Svetlana. It meant that perhaps the girl had a new home here. It was a solution that seemed on the face of it to satisfy everyone involved.
As talk of heading back to Restov turned about, Nariel appeared to turn somewhat pale (or more so than usual), and a little wide eyed. Whatever was gnawing at the elven girl, she did her best to conceal it. Feigning a smile, Nariel nodded "Yes, we do deserve some time to relax I should think."
Noticing Nariel's discomfort, Raquel takes her aside. "Hey love, what's eating you?"
"Industrious as always, Captain Garess. It's almost like a horde of bandits didn't try to murder us on this very spot only a short time ago," Tristan remarks as they arrive. Then he moves closer to the captain and whispers. "Any further trouble between Oleg and Petrov?"
Captain Garess nods. "It's always important to keep the troops occupied so they don't get restless and bored and start stabbing each other for fun. Of course, if you keep them occupied they get overworked and mutiny and start stabbing you. But at least that'll save the next lot of bandits the trouble." He sounds remarkably untroubled by the prospect.
"And as for the matter you're referring to, no. No further trouble there. Which probably just means it's been buried and will erupt twice as badly in the future, I shouldn't wonder. But everything's calm for now. You have to look on the bright side of things, that's what I say."
Arriving back at the outpost, Nariel sets about to unpacking and reviewing the loot log she had made. As talk of heading back to Restov turned about, Nariel appeared to turn somewhat pale (or more so than usual), and a little wide eyed. Whatever was gnawing at the elven girl, she did her best to conceal it.
Jhod cheerfully gives Nariel a helping hand with the unpacking of the loot. "If tha's summat on tha mind, I'm told I'm a good listener." He flashes her a smile and looks like he's about to say more, when he catches sight of the wooden chest you retrieved from the bandits' fort. "Ayup, what's tha have here?" His brow furrows when he sees the velvet bags, and even more when he sees what's inside them. "Well, now..." he lifts one of the gold coins up to the light, before taking it in one hand, flicking it between his fingers almost absently as he is momentarily lost in thought. "Would tha excuse me? I've summat, hrm, summat else to be doing about now."
Still absently twirling the coin in one hand, he wanders away, barely looking where he's going.
"Going home? Gods above," Arianna swears. "I'd like to see my family, pay my respects. And look in on the twins, of course, I hope they're alright, but damn it, I'd hoped to have better news for them at the end of this venture. Perhaps in Restov I can look into the numbers behind indenture, Lucille might be able to point me in the right direction..."
She isn't really speaking to anyone, just thinking out loud.
As the morning progresses into afternoon, the heat builds and the wind dies down completely; the air is still, with that oppressive tension that builds before a thunderstorm. Sure enough, by late afternoon the first spots of rain splash down into the dry, warm earth - a few at first, but building in number, more and more, driving heavily straight down from the now-grey skies. The smell of Summer showers is distinct: not unpleasant, but best experienced from within shelter.
Svetlana, who had been hoping to roast the deer outdoors over an open fire, looks disappointed; but the rolling crash of thunder persuades her that this is a day for indoor cooking and she and Merrim manage to rig up a spit using the fireplace in the tavern. The thunder and lighting does nothing to dispel the atmosphere of tension within the fort, but the smell of roasting meat creates its own counterpoint, almost enough - perhaps - to persuade an unaware observer (or especially wishful thinker) that all is well.
Eventually, all is in readiness, and the tables within the tavern groan under the weight of food and drink. Oleg, who seems to be trying especially hard to compensate for his earlier moods, bustles around (as best as his limp allows) the dinner tables with an expression almost of relief. He uncorks several bottles of fine wine (from the Lentrian estates of Taldor) and plays host, ensuring that everyone's cup is replenished, and doing his best to maintain a stream of conversation.
Once the feast is over, and the bottles are mostly emptied, Oleg raps once on the bar, for silence, positioning himself beneath the freshly-mounted dragon heads that glare severely from the wall (although any suggestions for naming the tavern after House Rogarvia are long-lost: there's a yellowing parchment on the notice board outside reminding everyone that, even in this far corner of Brevoy, politics has a sharp edge).
"Well, friends, it's been - hr-hmm - it's been quite a few months, hasn't it? I'm sure that my 'Lana and I never foresaw a time when our trading post would be free of bandits, but you've - hr-hmm - you've all accomplished the seemingly impossible, and all's well that ends well... Although of course, we - hr-hmm - we mourn those who were lost along the way..."
A crash of thunder drowns out his next few words, and he jumps nervily. "Anyway, I'm - hr-hmm - I'm not the best at speechifying, but perhaps one or all of our heroes might have a word or two for us?"
After a moment, Tristan stands.
"Greetings, friends. I... well, I am not a hero. I lived an admittedly comfortable life before coming here. I hadn't known a cold night outdoors since my youth. I had never known more violence than I sought out."
He swallows, searching for the next words.
"We came here on account of far-away lords, to work for them. And we have. The bandits here harmed their own income, I imagine, or somewhat-or-other troubled their concerns. But after coming to know our gracious hosts, and a few of the people in these lands, I'm much more glad that we have made your lives a little bit warmer, a little bit safer. These lands are hard. Until so recently, I had no idea how hard."
Tristan shakes his head, remembering his own naivety only a few months before.
"It seems I will depart soon. I will love these lands, and their memory, my whole life through. And I will hope that our labors, such as they were, bear fruit for you."
Tristan sits near Jhod, handing the man a tin cup full of the spirits Raquel was serving. "Health and happiness, my friend. Is something troubling you? I thought you would be glad with the bandits gone."
Eyes growing wide, Nariel pulls Raquel to the side and speaks quietly "I will talk to you later this evening." Moving off, Nariel glances back at the others before disappearing into her quarters for the remainder of the day.
Unusually quiet and clearly distracted, Nariel only gingerly pecks at her meal and barely touches her wine. Looking up at Oleg as he speaks, she does manage a smile as the old grouch struggles through his speech. After Tristan's responds, Nariel raises her glass "Alasse gala Tristan." Realizing after a moment that only a select few in the room even understood her, Nariel shakes her head embarrassingly "My apologies, what I meant to say was, cheers Tristan."
Turning to Raquel with a somber expression, Nariel opens up "Before you asked me what is wrong," pausing a moment, Nariel sighed before pulling out a document with some confusing nomenclature on it and handing it Raquel "well, this will not mean anything to you... but that document there, it could potentially be very threatening. I fear I may have inadvertently made some powerful and frightening enemies." Something in Nariel's eyes expressed a resigned sadness, and fear as she contemplated "I have been afraid of returning to Restov, as it puts me squarely into the focus of someone I thought I could trust. I suppose I have been blissfully ignoring this threat as we explored the Stolen Lands, but it cannot be avoided indefinitely." Looking out over the rest of the table, Nariel put her hand to her forehead "Inuviel will want an answer from me."
Tristan said everything Raquel had intended to, in much more eloquent terms and with far less curse words than the cleric would have interjected, so she contents herself with keeping the alcohol flowing and stoking the fires of celebration.
She sits beside Nariel as the elf produces the letter and speaks of her worries. Raquel holds the letter at arm's length and squints, but the strange letters look like only gibberish to her. "Well, if anybody tries to mess with you, they're gonna have to mess with me first. I'm not afraid of any noble jerks, and I refuse to let them bully my friends. Point me at this Inuviel guy, and I'll kick him in the balls for you!"
She puts her hand on the elf's shoulder. "You're not alone any more. You've got me, and Aivar and Arianna and Sasha and Tristan. We're all here for you, love. So chin up. We'll help you deal with any problems that come your way."
Tristan's words manage to put a smile on Aivar's face. All things considered, a half year had gone and by in the blink of an eye and here they are, commemorating their journey and those they had lost along the way. Surely, they had managed to achieve victory, but knowing that reaching their goal demanded a hefty sacrifice of blood and violence severely diminishes the sense of accomplishment for the paladin.
So when Tristan's finishes speaking his words of hope and beautiful days yet to come, it is Aivar who stands up. The Orlovsky pivots on his backheel and waves a hand at all those present before he starts to speak. "Trouble called my companions and I to these lands, and," he says with a grimace, "I think it is fair to say that none of us were prepared for what we'd find: a land suffocating under the weight of the darkness that covered it. But so too we discovered a land filled with beauty, a place that needs only a tender loving touch to make it blossom into something worth protecting. The Stag Lord kept all of this away from us and when we confronted them, they took away some of our friends. It is to these friends lost that I want to dedicate this song," and he reaches under the table until his shaky fingers manage to find the lute that's hiding underneath.
The rather bulky Orlovsky then sits down on the side of the table, one foot planted on his chair to help him keep his balance. Tentatively he plucks at his strings until his trembling hands find the right notes and, after seeking eye contact with Tristan - for it is Tristan who inspired him - he starts.
"Farewell to ye, oh wild untamed lands
Your winter’s cold still aches in me
And now I’m far away, called back to fair Brevoy
Will you ever heave a sigh and a wish for me?
The sun was setting in the west
The birds were singing on every tree
All nature seemed to be at rest
But still, there was no rest for me.
I know of a hill, just outside Oleg’s
Here, my friends rest with arms folded on their chest
These honest men, just like me
Will be at Brevoy’s beck and call for eternity
Farewell to ye, oh wild untamed lands
Your winter’s cold still aches in me
And now I’m far away, called back to fair Brevoy
Will you ever heave a sigh and a wish for me?
The drums they do beat and the threat of war does alarm,
The nation calls, I must obey
Farewell, farewell to the Stolen Land’s charms
For it’s early in the morning and I’m far, far away"
Once the song comes to a close, no matter the reaction of the crowd, Aivar will bow at all who are present and nod his head at Garess for all he and his men have done.
Arianna lifts a drink to Tristan and claps for Aivar. "Leaving the world a little more beautiful than it was to begin with. That's Shelyn's way, isn't it? Maybe..." She looks thoughtful a moment, then shakes her head. "Well. At any rate, while there's a few things I need to check in on, maybe this doesn't need to be the end of us working together? We've done rather well, after all."
Tristan sits near Jhod, handing the man a tin cup full of the spirits Raquel was serving. "Health and happiness, my friend. Is something troubling you? I thought you would be glad with the bandits gone."
Jhod blinks slightly as his train of thought is disturbed, returning to the present with a weary smile: "Aye. Nay. That is to say..." He passes you the gold coin he has been toying with for most of the day. "Take a look at this. Tis marked with the seal of House Surtova, rather than the Brevan crest."
He's right: on the 'tails' side of the coin, where you'd normally expect to see the Brevoy coat of arms, there is instead the ship/stars motif of House Surtova. Jhod grimaces. "Ran into a - let's say an old friend - at the New Year Ball, who told me that my - that the Surtovas were planning to mint their own coin this year. Didn't think they'd actually do it, mind. But seems they have."
"But what troubles me is: how did so many of a coin that's barely a half-year old end up in the bandit trove? One or two from passing merchants, aye, tha'd think to see that. But every single coin in those bags is like this one. And the wooden chest holding them: if it's not the one I near dropped on my foot, it's like enough to be its twin."
He shakes his head. "Tis a mystery - and one I fear to solve, for I doubt much the answers will prove happy. But solve it we must."
He gives Oleg a long, penetrating look. "At least now I know why that chest was so heavy."
Aivar takes a bow for Arianna and then reaches for his drink with a big grin etched into his face. "I am sure there is much more that we can do and achieve together. After all, we got the funds we need to set up our next venture! Alas, right now, dark clouds are gathering over Brevoy. The powers that be are seemingly preparing for what might turn into a violent affair. And," he says while wrinkling his nose, "I am afraid that what has gone on here somehow is tied to what's happening back home. So are we truly done just yet? Heh, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I am not. Hey, where did Tristan go?", asks the paladin with some bewilderment in his voice.
Tristan notes the priest's hesitation over what to call the Surtovas. Your what? Employer? Family even? Some connection there.
"Perhaps the Surtovas were dealing with somebody on the far side of the Stolen Lands, Numeria or Kyonin or such, and were sending them payment. The could have waylaid it the same as any other merchant," Tristan offered. It was a more optimistic interpretation than the one he didn't wish to give voice. And if Oleg was mixed up in it somehow...
Tristan drained the rest of his cup. "Well, the mystery will wait until the morrow. And for the nonce, however they came by it, the marauders are no more threat."
He stands to refill his drink, and sees Aivar looking around. "Aivar! Damned fine song, man. You've a way with ballads. Though I think we should lead them all in something a bit more spirited soon, eh? No reason to let gloom have sway the entire night!"
At Tristan's call for a spirited song, Raquel stands up on the table. "Indeed! Come on, you lively lot! How about a lively tune out of Cheliax-?" The priestess clears her throat and begins to sing, acting out various parts of the bawdy ballad with suggestive pantomime:
An Inn she kept, and as she slept,
her pillow heard her moan:
“Oh, many’s the lonely traveler
has spent the night with me,
but there’s no a man in all creation
gives content to me!
“Well, some can manage once or twice,
and some make three or four;
but it seems to me a rarity
is the man who can do more.
I’d do anything to find him,
in Heaven or in Hell.”
And as she spoke these words,
sure, she heard her front door bell.
And the wind blew cold and lonely
across that Widow’s moor,
and she never, ever turned away
a traveller from the door.
So boldly ran the Widow,
and the door did open wide,
and as she did, a tall and handsome
stranger stepped inside.
Well, she gave him bread and brandy,
and when that he was fed,
he said, “My dear, now have no fear;
it’s time to come to bed.
“For I’ve heard your plea
right down below,
and I’ve come to see you right.
But you must come to Hell with me
if I can last the night.”
She said, “You randy Devil!
To this bargain I’ll agree,
for Hell on Earth, or Hell in Hell,
it’s all the same to me!”
Now, as they tumbled in the bed,
the Devil, he proved well…
and he thought before the night would end
that she’d be in his Hell.
Ah, but when they came to number nine,
the Widow cried out, “More!”
And when the twelfth time came around,
the Widow cried, “Encore!”
At twenty-five the Devil
felt compelled to take a rest,
but the Widow cried,
“Come raise your head,
and put me to the test!”
At sixty-nine, the Widow laughed.
“Again! Again!” she cried,
and the Devil said,
“Well, I can see just how your husband died!”
At ninety-nine, the Devil
he began to wail and weep.
He said, “I’ll give you anything,
if you’ll let me go to sleep!”
But before the morning light was up,
the Devil hobbled home,
and the Widow, still not satisfied,
once more was left alone.
She lay there on her pillow
and she thought on ninety-nine.
“It’s a pity that poor old Devil
couldn’t manage one more time!
I’ll call him up again tonight
to see what can be done –
with a little more application,
we could make it to the ton!”
But when she called to him that night,
no Devil did appear.
For the first time in Eternity,
the Devil, he shook with fear.
He said, “Of all the torments
I’ve witnessed here in Hell,
I never knew what pain was,
’til I rang your front door bell!”
Turning her attention back to the others, Nariel roles up the scroll and tucks it away. Smiling, she claps her hands together "Oh well done Aivar." Taking a sip of wine, Nariel appears to be in better spirits. Quietly adding to Raquel before she begins her pantomime, she adds "Thanks Raquel. It is good to know I have friends."
Glancing over towards Jhod, her expression narrows as the discussion turns to the coins. "That is troubling. Can I see that coin?"
Looking back over at Jhod with a concerned look, Nariel continues his train of thought "You know, we never did find out where he and Svetlana went to during the siege, or why they were in such a dour mood when they returned, looking back at the coin with a sigh, she continues "perhaps there is more here as you suggest."
Raquel finishes her song and and returns to Nariel's side in time to hear her voice her concerns. Once brought up to speed, the cleric's eyes narrow. "It sounds like we all ought to have a little chat with our 'gracious host.' Tristan, you want to be the good deputy or the bad deputy? And there's always magic to charm the truth out of him if he doesn't want to cooperate."
Tristan does his best to keep his face from showing his steadily darkening mood. Please let it not be true. Please don't tell me that Oleg and Svetlana knew the attack would come, and never said a word.
He'd hoped to keep this confrontation for later, and savor what could be rescued of the night's festivities - but alas, it was not to be.
"I suppose I'll start as the 'good' one, but depending on the explanation we get I may not be able to keep up the act. Jhod, will you join us?"
Tristan finds Oleg in the room, and sits next to the man. "Health and happiness, my gracious host. I'm glad your home is still standing." Turning his gaze to his cup, he sighs. "Oleg, we've learned some things, dealing with these bandits, but there are still a few mysteries left. Do you think you could help us shed some light on them?"
Raquel casts a minor blessing and loiters nearby, listening to Oleg's answer.
Face.
Palm.
Jhod nods, his usual cheerful expression absent. "Aye. Let's see this to the finish."
Tristan finds Oleg in the room, and sits next to the man. Turning his gaze to his cup, he sighs. "Oleg, we've learned some things, dealing with these bandits, but there are still a few mysteries left. Do you think you could help us shed some light on them?"
Oleg has been drinking a little more than usual, his face is flushed. He screws up his eyes and focuses on you. "Mysteries?! W-what mysteries? Seems simple enough to me - we're alive, they're dead, all's well that ends well, right? ... Right? No sense picking at the scabs, you know? So, when are you heading off from here now your work is done? Not that I'm not grateful, mind, but you've got other plans, I'm sure."
His balding head is sweating slightly, and in his nervousness he is talking garrulously; but his eyes are darting this way and that, suddenly alert.
Svetlana, who has been quietly sitting in the corner braiding Merrim's hair (which Merrim seems to be allowing quite placidly), looks up with a quiet smile on her face: "Oh, Oleg, dear, I'm sure they don't want pestering with such questions - they've won a great victory and I'm sure they just want to relax for a time." She smiles at you all. "I hope you'll stay for as long as you feel you need to. We can never repay you for ridding us of those bandits."
Despite the dark rings of sadness around her eyes, she looks relaxed and at peace - words you cannot apply to her husband, who looks suddenly alarmed; and not just by the rolling thunder that peals across the storm-lashed fort with a reverberating crash.
Arianna looks over one of the Surtovan gold pieces, looking at the crest on the back. "I didn't think anything of them being gone," she says quietly. "I just...I thought they'd left for safety after our letter came. Or it was coincidence. Good luck."
Raquel's heart breaks a little when she realizes Svetlana has no idea what her husband has been up to. She moves over to her and Merrim. "Hey, ladies, I've been working on a new recipe for a tasty beverage. Would you mind lending me a hand in the kitchen?"
Hopefully the cleric can keep Svetlana from witnessing the confrontation to come. It would be a kindness to her.
Sasha listens to the conversation with rapt attention. Surtova coin in the bandit's fort raised many questions, but one couldn't jump to conclusions yet. Perhaps interrogating Oleg could turn up some answers to those questions.
Sasha waits for Raquel to lead the women away before diving in after Tristan. She takes a Surtova coin and flips it to the innkeeper. "What do you know about this?" she asks plainly. "We found it and hundreds more besides at the bandit's main hideout."
"We may be departing. It depends on whether or not our business is truly finished. I would dearly hate for us to go just to let new - or old - evil take root once more to trouble the people here. What would we have achieved, then?"
"Freshly minted. Odd for a couple chests of new Surtovan coin to end up so far away from the cities. Especially odd for them to end up in the hands of bandits." Then, using an interrogation trick he'd learned from a friend in the city guard, he abruptly changed the subject for the real question. "Where were you during the siege, Oleg? I think you know something more about this business, my friend. It's only natural. You're a man of stature and means around here, who wouldn't want to get you involved? Please. It's time to let go of secrets."
Svetlana gives you a smile. "Of course, dear. Hold on one second..." She finishes tying a braid into Merrim's hair, and then clips it into place, giving the girl a smile. "We'll do the rest later, hmm?" Merrim gives a nod, and a slight smile in return, before wandering away in search of more to eat.
Svetlana gives the girl a hug as she goes, before joining Raquel and following her into the kitchen. "Ah, such a shame we never had a girl, I know Oleg would have loved that. Of course, he would have spoiled her rotten, so maybe it's all for the best."
She gives Raquel a shrewd look "Is this really about a beverage, or just a clever way of talking to me about something? You're not the first to have something on your mind, my dear. I run a tavern, and I can tell that something's bothering you."
Oh come ON
Oleg deftly catches the coin, biting into it before giving it a look. "Real gold, looks authentic to me - what of it? Not surprised you found coin in those thieves' lair! What do expect me to know about it?!" He looks aggrieved - and then reddens as Tristan asks about his whereabouts.
"Mind your own business, Master Aislin! My wife and I went to see our two buried sons, if you must know - and Master Jhod here can confirm that, we talked about it before we left!"
Jhod gives a sorrowful nod: "Aye, that we did, and I'm right grieved for tha; but it's the timing that troubles me, now I think on it. Of all the time tha's had here to go and do that, why go at that precise time?"
Oleg reddens as he glares at you all. "What- what is this questioning all about?! And anyway, priest, weren't you the one saying we shouldn't go around throwing accusations? You religious types, you're all hypocrites!"
Jhod looks stricken, and says nothing in reply.
Sasha balks in front of Oleg's anger and glances at Tristan and Jhod.
Maybe this was a big misunderstanding, but she didn't voice her concern yet.
Aivar leans against the doorpost and quietly follows the conversation. The fact that Oleg and Svetlana had lost two sons is a new one to him, and one that deeply saddens him. One, no parent ought to bury their child, and two, if Oleg did betray their group and Garess' men, what in the name of all that is Holy made him decide to inflict such punishment on the parents of those poor souls who lost their lives in fending off the Stag Lord's assault? Right now, Oleg is deflecting everything that's being thrown at him, but if he is innocent, what else can he do but deflect and insist on his innocence?
This conundrum makes Aivar recall the stories of the priests of Abadar who can invoke zones of truth, to ensure no lies are to be told during important trials. Heck, even merchants sometimes pay for the services of the priests of Abadar to ensure that both parties involved in a big trade deal will stick to their word. What with the Gods watching them, what fool would break his word? Should he suggest such a thing to Jhod? Could Jhod or Raquel perform such a ritual? Perhaps so. Aivar decides that for now, it is best to not insert himself into the conversation and see if it can perhaps be resolved without magical intervention.
She sniffles and wipes at her eyes.
"Mind my own business? But this is my business, Master Oleg. Mine and my companions. We've bled, and some of us near died, for you all here. Many others have bled and died. Please won't you see that you can trust us? It doesn't matter what the truth is! If there's more evil to come, we'll face it together!"
And in that moment, Tristan knew that he meant it. He'd done more of worth in the last few months than in his entire life through. He wouldn't leave unless he knew it would last.
Oleg looks deeply flustered as Tristan couches his accusations in kind terms. Outright confrontation he might have weathered, but he's caught off guard by this approach.
"W- what are you getting at? Did - did Dovan say something to you before he died? The man was a damn liar! Come in, he was from Nidal, everyone knows you can't trust those ****ers!"
Oleg has been free with his words, and his voice carries. Merrim, who has been piling her plate high with food, freezes as she hears the name of Dovan, and stares at Oleg as she turns white with shock.
The plate slides from her nerveless hands and falls to the wooden floor, shattering into pieces.
She's about to say more, but a crash of breaking crockery from the main room interrupts her and she breaks off. "My goodness, whatever are they up to in there?"
She moves back towards the door.
Nariel stood back, listening with a somewhat dispassionate or neutral expression. She was not able to add much to the interrogation, so she stayed out of it and aloud Tristan and Sasha to take the lead. Only hearing the tragic news of their children broke Nariel's stoic facade, if only briefly as she appeared taken aback by the news.
Perhaps hearing of his children, Nariel was starting to feel that perhaps that had been barking up the wrong tree. Then upon finally hearing the necromancer's name, Nariel shook her head disappointingly There it is, contact with the enemy. Taking one step forward, Nariel finally broke her silence with a direct question, in a somewhat cold and logical tone that Nariel had been raised to master her entire life "Dovan? When did you have contact with the necromancer Oleg, and for what purpose?"
If you were trying to distract Svetlana, you couldn't have found a better question.
"Ah." There's a long moment of silence.
When she continues, she's carefully not looking at you, but at some grease spot on one of the trays that seems to be of particular interest. "We had two boys, see. Lovely little things, they were, proper scamps sometimes. I used to get so cross..."
"It was an accident, just one of those things. A stonemason's cart got loose and once those things get going, there's no stopping them. It just plowed right through the streets. Broke Oleg's leg - you've seen he walks with a limp? Of course, he tried to push the boys out the way but-"
She breaks off. "Oleg thought for a long time that I blamed him. I never did. I know he would have swapped himself for them like that, without even a thought."
She forces a smile, and looks at you. "Anyway, we couldn't stay in Restov after that. There were too many things that just reminded me of what we'd lost. Oleg heard there was a lease on this place, and that was that."
"It was hard at first, I won't pretend otherwise. Still is, some days. But Oleg was right - it was a good thing to go and visit them. I tidied their little gravestones and we put some flowers down."
"So we endure, you see, my dear. No matter what, we endure. There's nothing else to be done."
The game is up the moment those words are out of his mouth, and he knows it. Oleg gulps, as much for air and some time to think, and stumbles backwards, his bad leg giving way as he collapses into a chair.
He holds one hand up in an unspoken plea. "Okay. Okay the thing is, see, what you got to understand..."
He licks his dry lips. "We - we came out here to die. Especially my 'Lana. After we lost our boys, she just didn't seem to see any point going on. She had to get out of Restov, and out here, in the emptiness, she could just... fade away, from grief, without anyone bothering her. Us. We could die of heartbreak together."
"But something - something happened. A miracle, I guess you'd call it, if you believed in those. Out here, in the wilds, with nothing but the seasons and the company of the occasional passing traveller, my 'Lana, she - she started to live again. It was slow to start with, but the conversations in the tavern, cooking for strangers, the warmth of Spring and Summer, and the snug of being warm in Winter... it, it brought her back to life, like."
"And then the bandits came."
"Well, I wasn't going to let them take it from me, but what could I do, alone? So I wrote to Restov - they didn't want bandits taking over the South Rostland Road, did they? Anyway, about two weeks later, I got a reply. Delivered in person, no less. Thought it was odd at the time, but then I was just grateful for it being so speedy. A rider delivered a letter, and some gold - the lease on this place isn't much, but it was more than I could afford after being robbed. After all that, I was damned if I was going to lose this place. It was 'Lana's home, now."
"Anyway, the letter had another letter in it, sealed, that I was supposed to give to the bandit leader next time I saw them. Happs, that was. Didn't know at the time he wasn't the top leader, but he was the one I gave it to. Thought he'd tear it up and have done with it, but he read it and went quiet, like."
"The letter I got said that there'd be regular shipments coming through the trading post that Happs would pick up - all I had to do was drop in somewhere at Nivatka's Crossing whenever I was passing, and bring it back. I could kind of guess what was in them, but the letter never told me and I never asked, right?"
"So then you lot come along, and off goes Happs. I'm not sorry, but I don't know you lot from anyone, eh? You could be in and gone and then I'm left to sort things out. So next time I'm in Nivatka's Crossing I leave a message saying what's what, and I get another letter telling me nothing's changed. Stick to the plan, keep the deliveries going."
"But by that point, you've made your point, haven't you? You've stuck around, you've done some good, you've charmed my 'Lana. So I leave another message, saying no, it's done, I'm grateful for their help but I'll take it from here."
"That didn't go so well. Next time I'm in Nivatka's Crossing, I get an actual visit. Didn't see the man, but I sure saw his goons - and their fists. The man tells me if I want 'Lana to live, I'll stick to the plan. So I did. I mean, where's the harm? Not like the bandits will kill the golden goose, right?"
"Eventually, though, you lot have made so much of a nuisance of yourselves that I get a message one time: go, don't be here come the end of Desnus. I'd always been meaning to go back and see their graves, but never had the courage, but that seemed to be the jolt I needed to make it happen."
"I mean, of course I felt bad for you lot, it was nothing personal, you know? I wasn't ungrateful for what you've done, but what could I do against that sort of thing?"
"I mean, come on, any of you would have done the same if you'd had someone else to think about. I wasn't going to let them harm my 'Lana. Not after everything she's been through. That we've been through."
Tristan leans back in his chair, keeping Oleg's gaze. He nods for a moment as he considers the story. "I... understand. I'm still not thrilled that you didn't give us any warning, but you had your wife to consider. It all turned out in the end, anyway. The question now is... what next? So there's some connection to the bandits in Nivatka's crossing... "
He turns to his friends. "I chance they won't have gotten wind of their little defeat here yet. Perhaps we could investigate closer to the source, before it dries up?"
Arianna steps over to Merrim, trying to appear nonthreatening by keeping her hands visible. "Hey, you alright? It's not--I'm sorry, kid, we had no idea that this was happening."
Tristan's kindness surprises Aivar, but unlike the bard, the paladin has a more difficult time chewing down the fact they were betrayed. Had Oleg been a stranger, perhaps the taste of betrayal would be more palatable, but they had fought to rescue him and his wife, and after that, they had gone out into the wilds to clear the bandit scourge. Aivar couldn't help but wonder what Oleg's prayers sounded like in recent months. Surely Garess would demand the man to be hung if he ever found out. And, heh, if whoever was paying the bandits through Oleg found out he and his companions showed Oleg mercy, they might even the score.
"What's next? If any of this transpires, Garess and his men will see to it that cold justice is served. If we show mercy and merrily get along, the bandit benefactor might feel pressed to even the score. If we don't find out who paid the bandits and get to make a move first, I don't see how things can stay the way they were. Something has to give, one way or another."
"Justice doesn't always demand blood, Aivar. I can't say I would have done any differently in Oleg's situation. And he can still help us set it right."
Aivar gives Tristan a blank stare. He is unsure how to comfort Tristan without bending the truth of the manner in ways he feels isn't right. "I'm not one to preach bloodshed, but it is pretty clear that if certain people were to find out what has transpired, you can expect violent answers. That I would like to prevent. However, I ... I don't think I can walk away from this, penance must be paid, in one way or another. Helping us set it right won't put a smile on Whiteleaf's face, but giving Merrim a new home and future might."
The bloody chunks and thunks of a man losing his head or a limb are sounds Aivar is rather familiar with and if they can prevent any of that, Aivar would much prefer that. Executions had always managed to make him feel like society admitting it had made mistakes, mistakes it couldn't take back or correct. Giving up on a life ... it gives him solace to know that his Goddess shares his thoughts on the matter.
She pulls back slightly, and looks at you as if for the first time, clear-eyed. "Let me turn your question back on you, dear: why did you choose to go out there, beyond the edges of civilisation? Not so many taverns out in the Stolen Lands, I'm thinking."
Maintaining a stone faced and devoid of emotion expression while Oleg old his tale, Nariel said nothing. In her heart, she felt sorrow for the man, his was a tragic tale, though she betrayed none of her feelings. As Tristan and Aivar debated what to do, Nariel remained silent for a time.
Glancing over at Tristan with a raised eyebrow, Nariel finally weighed in, speaking in her native tongue that she was certain Oleg did not understand, but she knew Tristan did.
Turning to Aivar, Nariel appeared more sanguine as she added "For what is worth to you Aivar as an outsider from Kyonin, I agree with you. That being said, this is a lawless land and the sovereign law of Brevoy does not necessarily extend here it can be argued. From a legal perspective, you have the right to dispense justice I should think." Pausing a moment, Nariel adds "In my minds eye Aivar, you are the closest thing to a ranking authority here. I believe the Swordlord's would support whatever judgment you decide upon."
"The bandit, the marauder, and the stranger attack from outside. A community that stands together can repel them, and is the stronger for having faced such. The betrayer destroys from within, and divides the community so it cannot stand together. There is nothing so vile, nor so wretched, as the betrayer."
Jhod coughs. "It's one of the Parables of Erastil, of which there are many. My favourite is a lot shorter: when the wolf shows you his teeth, he's not smiling. But, now I have occasion to think on this one, I find it to be just as true."
He shoots Oleg a venomous glare. "How can you say we would do the same? And how can you believe it?" He gives Tristan an incredulous look, the sort one would give a simpleton who sold a cow for a handful of beans, before turning his attention back to Oleg. "How dare you say such a thing?! They came back. Do you hear me? They. Came. Back. They sent warning ahead, and they came back and faced a foe they could easily have avoided because that's what is done."
His gaze bores into the man like a drill. "You left - you fled - what, a week or so beforehand? What could we have done with a week's warning? We could have sent word to the Swordlords at Fort Serenko and had reinforcements. Oh, we'd still have had a fight on our hands, but maybe Petrov would still have his hand, and perhaps our Captain would have lost fewer casualties."
"I spent that day elbow-deep in blood and guts, and even many I saved are left maimed for life. Three are dead. And you - you stand there and you tell me - tell us - that we would have done the same as you?! How do you still have voice after such a blasphemy? How can you?"
"And then you return, and you try to put the blame on Petrov when, what, you knew him to be innocent? What was that, to try and hide your guilt by placing it on another?"
He steps in close, maintaining eye contact but shortening the distance, his fists balled. "Go on, tell me once more that I would have done the same thing. I dare you."
Arianna is temporarily struck dumb by the energy of Jhod's anger. The silence is tense. Tentatively, she says, "Jhod is right. You weren't there, Oleg, but seeing that..." She thinks back to the fight, when the owlbear first came crashing through the gate and took a swing at Aivar, and she had to push past the thought that it could have literally torn any of them in half. "That monstrosity almost killed Aivar." Trying desperately to keep up with the barbarian thug, because if he got past her, if he managed to get to Raquel when she was still blinded or flank Aivar as he dueled the Stag Lord, it could have been all over.
"You could have...left a letter that wouldn't be found until you left, or, or I don't know, g%@ d&~n it we tried to do right by you!"
Arianna steps over to Merrim, trying to appear nonthreatening by keeping her hands visible. "Hey, you alright? It's not--I'm sorry, kid, we had no idea that this was happening."
Merrim's face is carefully guarded, not giving away what she's thinking. "'S OK, miss. Don't expect much from life, and I'm rarely disappointed." Numbly, she starts to bend down and pick up the shards of broken crockery. "I'll clear this mess up and take it back to the kitchen. Svetlana will be wanting some help with the washing-up, I'm guessing."
Oleg steps back, alarmed by Jhod's outburst (or maybe just by the fact that the man has apparently learned to speak properly), but he doesn't contradict it, or refute Arianna's statements.
Instead he looks down, not meeting anyone's gaze. "Never said I was proud of it. But one way or another I just wanted it to be over. And if I'd left a note, and word got out, then that would - that would be the end of it, wouldn't it? My 'Lana would never forgive me."
His mouth sets in a line. "I've said my piece. No idea what you want me to do. Why couldn't you have left well alone!?!?"
Arianna shakes her head, and says quietly, "Guess I gotta be the one. There are, certain business relationships which are built on trust. If nothing else, Captain Garess should know that you have broken that trust. You shouldn't count on his men staying around much longer. Tell your wife or don't. You're makin' it real hard to care."
She looks to Merrim. "Please, kid. Don't...make it worse for the woman."
Despite what she said, Arianna does intend to take Garess aside and talk to him without his men around, and emphasize to him both that Oleg was being extorted and his age.
She's also foreseeing a very long night ahead of her.