Kastus charges in to the camp, ready to behead somebody, but stops short as he sees the carnage. "So, I guess we're done here then. Nice to find some more friendly faces out here. What brings you folks to the Stolen Lands?"
Deacon looks at the armored warrior.
Fate, it seems. Though the way it blows oft brings surprises. You are here with official writ yes? So am I though it seems I was unwise in my route selection
He refocuses on the bandit. We're still waiting for answers
[
"I... umm... the loot's over there. There's a bear trap over it, in case of thieves." The man points to the nearby wagon. "Other than that... what do you want to know. I've never seen you and it was you who attacked our camp."
Is my longsword and spellbook amongst it? They better be.
He looks around at the newcomers.
I apologise for my brashness, but being tied up and beaten by this lot has shortend my temper somwhat. I am Deacon Nasser, wizard and Eldritch Knight in training, here to explore and enforce the noble cause of taming these lands for good of the locals who wish to make a home here.
Rising from his snarling crouch, the giant of a man drew two shuddering breaths, let his arms drop to his sides and looked down at the mutilated corpse of the bandit leader.
Concern and shock flooded into his face, his mouth opened as though he was about to speak, and then he toppled over like a fallen tree.
Deacon quickly runs over to examine the giant, who's largely saved his life.
He looks bad, are any of you a healer?
"Pleased to meeet you, Deacon..." Bydar starts to say. He'd given his name before and is about to again when...
Rising from his snarling crouch, the giant of a man drew two shuddering breaths, let his arms drop to his sides and looked down at the mutilated corpse of the bandit leader.
Concern and shock flooded into his face, his mouth opened as though he was about to speak, and then he toppled over like a fallen tree.
He looks bad, are any of you a healer?
"Yes," Bydar moves to the huge man, "Gather nearby if you wish some of it too."
Taking out the holy symbol of Shelyn,Bydar concentrates and light seems to flow all around him.
EDIT: Somehow the stablize I quoted missed with my roll. Rerolling hopefully this time with better formating
As the holy energy pours forth, a strange thing happens. A discoloration on the big man's chest brightens and sheds light, displaying a mark in the shape of a bird taking flight, it's white glowing head aimed toward the sky, it's long tail rippling with color, the plumage winding down the big man's right arm.
As quickly as it had been revealed it fades again, becoming patches of discoloration in the vague outline of the shape they had seen.
His eyes snap open. He blinks and looks at all the faces above him.
"Guess I'm not dead yet."
"By the loving goddess," Bydar gapes at the sight, still staring even after it faded"Excuse me, but are you a worshipper of Shelyn?"
The big man's brows furrowed as he sat up gingerly, looking down at his still open but no longer bleeding wounds.
"I am not, though my mother was. Why?"
Deacon stands, quite struck by the display and refocuses on the bandit and the loot.
I don't suppose any of you can remove that trap? Or we can have the thief here set it off
Kastus grins at Deacon's idea. "Grand plan friend. Here man, kindly be our shield. Unless you'd rather lose an arm, that is."
Feel free to disarm it or use a long stick. No need to hurt yourself before we decide what to do with you. And my sword and spellbook you lot took from me better be in there.
While Kastus maintains a sword point at the the bandit, Deacon starts removing all visible weapons from the dead bandits belts and quivers and chucking them in the centre of the group.
The big man's brows furrowed as he sat up gingerly, looking down at his still open but no longer bleeding wounds.
"I am not, though my mother was. Why?"
"Shelyn has plans for you, I think. You bear her mark." The cleric states matter of factly.
He listens to Deacon, "I need to focus on healing. As a group, we are still far too injured should more trouble come."
Bydar channels again, light spilling on himself and those around him
Raxus' brows raise at that. looking down at himself he sees nothing. "If you say so, priest."
While standing the rest of the way, he grimaces, stretching and grimacing, misses the flare of the bird on his chest in Bydar's healing energy.
After carefully pulling off the tarp to reveal a readied bear trap, one of you is able to use a stick to set it off with no issue. Under a few less than worthwhile supplies like a couple tents, some firewood and food, there's paydirt.
A pair of silver earrings
A wooden Music Box
Three Crates full of Furs and Hides
A Polished Wooden Case holding 8 bottles of a potent green herbal liquor
A small bag holding 321 sp and 90 gp
Masterwork Chain Shirt
2 Masterwork Hand Axes
4 Daggers
8 Short Swords
8 Long Bows
140 Arrows
16 Days Trail Rations
195 gp
Deacon collects everything into the pile, looking at it with disdain. There was nothing he could use. He casts on the loot, just in case.
He looks in the other loot and retrives his belongings, including his Longsword and spellbook.
Well, lets get ourselves in order shall we? I'm afraid I was foolishly travelling alone when beset by these thugs. Capable as I am with magic, I have my limits. My I offer my services as a mage to you good fellows? You did come on writ to clear these lands, I assume?
Raxus paws through the pile intently seeking something, coming up with a wicked looking toothed necklace threaded on a braided cord, each strand dyed a different color. In the center of the braid, just above the longest fang, was a silver locket, a strangely delicate decoration for such a savage peice of jewelry. Seeming relieved he ties it about his neck.
Once the necklace is found he retrieves belongings at a much more leisurely pace.
"You assume correctly," Bydar answers as he looks as well through the goods now, "I can only speak for myself, but I'd welcome each of you. We could use the help."
Sliding his sword back into his back scabbard, Kastus says "I think I can agree with Bydar here. Your help would not only be welcome, but necessary. I think putting down bandits will be the least of our worries."
At the end of the battle, Alexei searches for an enemy, still armed and armored with a ghostly regalia. When he finds none, he falls on his knees, the misty armor breaking into fog and then into nothing.
Spirits bless us, we survived. We are victorious.
As he feels the energy flowing around and restoring his health, he gazes up and finds the various fighters talking. The young man gathers his strenght and gets up, following the sound to its source.
He-Hello? Who is there?
Anyone can see that his ice-blue eyes seem milky and fuzzy, and his slow steps confirm that he's half-blind.
Rubbing his hands to clean the dirt and caked blood, he approaches the gathered men, offering a hand.
I'm... Alexei, Alexei Yoren. Thank you for... your rescue. Sorry to bother, but have you seen my sword around? It is... long and curved. The blade, that is.
Now that he has come into the light, it's easy to see that he's younger than he looked during the fight, probably not even eighteen years old. His hair is a dirty mess, his clothes are ragged and torn, with one shoe missing. His voice is unsteady because of the cold night and raw from shouting during the fight. He almost seems another person from the sword-wielding warrior during the battle.
There is a Curved sword here amongst the pile
Deacon hands the sword to the young man.
Your magic was...Impressive, during the fight. What manner of spellcaster are you? Some sort of cleric?
Bydar greets Alexei "Bydar Lebeda, in service to Shelyn. That was a hard fight for us all"
Raxus looks around after gathering his gear and walks over to the remaining bandit. "You beat me. Tied me to a tree. You were going to kill me once I fold you what you wanted to know. If you were me, what would you do right now?"
I know what we're supposed to do with him....
Having lost interest in the theif, Deacon starts fetching a horse to attach the wagon to..
The man looks quite terrified, but he sits back straight in his ropes. "I'm not gonna lie to ye sir. We'da killed you by now, but that doesn't mean you gotta kill me. I know landmarks, some things about the boss. I don't know what you want, but I can help I'm sure."
Start at the boss and we can go from there. Speak plainly, as though your lofe depends upon it. Because it does.
Finally, the Raven who'd been circling and cawing over the battle swoops down. It alights on Deacon's shoulder, and nuzzles the wizard.
Oh, Master. Chatterbeak was so worried. Yes he was. Chatterbeak saw them take you. Chatterbeak wanted to help but Chatterbeak has no hands to untie ropes. Oh, Chatterbeak is so sorry, Master.
The birds flaps over to the ground just out of reach of the bandit.
You did this, yes you did, Chatterbeak should peck your eyes out. Saw you kick master on the ground, yes you did. But Master is free now and you'll be sorry.
Chatterbeak, return.
The bird obediently flaps up to the wizards shoulder.
Now,...you were trying to talk your way out of a Noose, I believe?
Content to let others question the bandit, Raxus straightens to his full height and listens.
"The quality of Mercy is in keeping with my faith. I hope to believe ANY Being can find redemption." I MUST believe it.
There is a Curved sword here amongst the pile
Deacon hands the sword to the young man.
Alexei takes the sheated weapon, fastening it to his simple belt.
Most thankful sir.
Your magic was...Impressive, during the fight. What manner of spellcaster are you? Some sort of cleric?
For a second the young man looks confused, as if he didn't understand the question.
M-magic? Ah, you mean the spiritual arms? Them spirits, they... chose me for some purpose. The gods... they granted me the sight to see the both worlds, and the spirits help me when they can. I'm not a... cleric as you say, I've barely been to a church, but somehow Gorum and Pharasma allow me to see and command at their name. That's what I think, anyway.
Relieved to be removed from the spotlight, Alexei goes searching for his other meager possessions.
Deacon nods at the young man, but keeps his focus on the bandit, Well?
"Well... the boss is The Stag Lord." The man speaks the name with a surprising reverence. "He runs every bandit in this land. A right mean bastard, he sits in his fort to the south, on the shores of the Tuskwater, and collects tribute from all the bandits." The man raises his hands toward the woman who died. "That was Kressel, she's been around the fort more than any of us, but all of us know the password. If a bandit asks 'Who Goes there?' answer with, 'By the Bloody Bones of St. Gilmorg, who wants to know?'. It'll keep them from killing you."
Kastus whistles.
"Rather dramatic for a bandit gang, wouldn't ya say? Gotta admit, though, there's definitely been some results around here. This Stag Lord obviously knows how to get results, even if he seems to be a tad too theatrical." Kastus shakes his head.
"Theatre is a powerful and underestimated art. It can inspire awe or dread if done well... useful to a leader. I suppose it is obvious we should cut the head of the snake to end the wriggling. As for this fellow..." He frowns, "It seems he is trying to get us to spare his life. I think we should grant mercy of some sort, if not total clemency."
I'm do not mean to bother, milords, I do not know these southern lands, but isn't there anywhere we can lock him up? We had a sizable jail up there at Restov. The man may prove himself useful in the future, maybe even atone to his crimes.
Raxus seems lost by the discussion, but says nothing.
Wonder what theatre is. Sounds important.
Not to be a pessimist, but if you all are here by charter the mans sentence is clear. He is a bandit. That generally involves unprovoked attacks and murder, often rape if women are involved. You would be taking a massive chance in a place that likely does not possess a jail to hold him. Fact is at a minimum he is guilty of the robbery and kidnapp and torture of the 3 of us. Crimes that easily earn him a death sentence in any court. I am merely speaking as a matter of law.
"Wait!" The bandit yells. "The sentence is for unrepentant banditry. I'm obviously repentant. I'm trying to help."
"Wait!" The bandit yells. "The sentence is for unrepentant banditry. I'm obviously repentant. I'm trying to help."
"Agreed. If we are going to use the law, let us respect ALL of it. Further, it's unwise to harden the hearts of those bandits who might otherwise WANT to seek redemption. If we offer only the sword or noose, no matter what they do when they see us..., they will fight with courage born of desperation."
Well, I am obviously only a newcomer. It is the groups descision, unless you have a nominated leader?
Raxus was growing tired of the discussion.
"No one is killing someone who can't fight back."
Bydar smiles at Raxus, "I think we'll get along fine."
Raxus was growing tired of the discussion.
"No one is killing someone who can't fight back."
Really? I hate to think what you would do if a murder you were about to chop in half fainted. Would you wake him, give him his weapon, THEN run him though?...We can discuss that later.
How about we bind his hands and walk him to a location safe to us and go from there? We are rather exposed at the moment.
"Fine. Raxus rumbled, rifling through the bandit's pile of stolen gear for a rope or belt.
He didn't bother binding their captive right then, he just said "Start walking. Run, and you get brought back by the dogs."
The captive starts walking passively, looking carefully over his shoulder and nervously around to all party members, obviously worried for himself. You find a fairly sheltered spot in the woods nearby with a thicket overhead to block sight from many directions.
Once they reach the thicket, Deacon orders Chatterbeak to fly above and act as a sentry.
Well my new friends, the bandit loot secured in the cart and one bandit prisoner. What shall you do with this one and what is our next move.