"Most of the stories I have overheard personally seems to indicate the Stag Lord is a few bottles shy of a brewery, so rationality may or may not be high on his list of virtues. But then again...the stories vary in quality as well as believability."
Bregor scratches the back of his head and chuckles.
"But they do have one thing in common, he is a man...(if he is indeed a man)...that inspires fear."
|
Gorax rides along admiring the country, as the sun rises up this morning. The sweat begins under his armor, making him feel a little uncomfortable. Every so often he brings out a rag to dap his brow. "At least if there's a river, we can take a swim and cool down a bit. Maybe even in the shadow under the bridge. Once we're cooler, then we'll see about that stag lord, eh?"
"Inspiring fear doesn't mean anything" Kyrie replies to Bregor. "Any half-wit musclebound brawler can inspire fear - all he'd need to do is be willing to be more brutal than everyone else around him."
Bregor nods sagely at Kyries words.
"Aye, that is certainly true enough my lady, but bandits and outlaws in a country such as this, where Trolls roam, there are little Fey causing troubles, angry old lumberjacks setting traps, cursed animals guarding old ruins AND fearsome heroes like us roaming about, are sure to be made of somewhat stern stuff as the saying goes."
"To inspire fear in THEM you need more than just muscles and half of a wit. Either there is some truth to the more outlandish stories, or the man's brutality reaches such levels to cause even a brave and gallant man such as myself nightmares."
A slight chuckle escapes Bregors lips at this point.
"Or perchance all his followers have less than half a wit between them and are just not intelligent or savvy enough to know fear. In which case we shall find no challenge at all in defeating them."
|
|
Gorax lets the others argue about the Stag Lord, It'll be soon enough we meet him and his men, then it'll be time for us to show our mettle. Its easy to be brave when you haven't seen what you're up against. But if it's a brawl, then I'll be more than happy to oblige. he chuckles. "So Salinthas, how much further to this bridge then?"
Salinthas ponders. "If we continue along the river we should encounter it this afternoon I would think."
And it is indeed that afternoon when you come upon it. Or at least what looks to be the remains of it.
A single thick, sagging rope still hangs across the river, all that remains of the bridge that once spanned it. A sign post on your side of the ruined bridge reads “Nettles’ Crossing—5 coppers—ring bell for service.” There is a presumably identical sign on the other side. A rusty bell hangs by each sign. On the south bank of the river, the crumbled remains of a burnt-down wooden building are slowly being overgrown by encroaching vegetation.
About a hundred feet downstream the remains of the bridge can be seen lodged amongst some rocks.
For a very, very long time Sia just stares at the remains of the bridge. Finally, after several minutes, she actually just steps up and rings the bell, as if this will somehow magically restore the whole thing.
When this fails, she sighs. "Okay....there WAS another bridge, right?"
"Presumably the bandits have some way to cross," Kyrie replies. "We'll just have to follow the river until we find it."
|
|
Gorax, looks around the place, "No sign of Mr or Mrs Nettles either then. Still looks like there's a rope across, we can still us that to get us safely across can't we? Wonder if there's anything left in the shack we could use. You never know, the bandits might have left a calling card? But first, lets see how strong this rope is?" Gorax goes to one end of the rope, after giving a good look to see how well it is secured, he gives it a big tug.
"Us? Perhaps," Kyrie replies. "Our hourses? Most likely not."
"Why destroy a perfectly good crossing? There should be another bridge, or this one would surely have been restored. Even bandits are not so foolish as to destroy the only crossing and leaving it thus...at least I would sincerely hope so."
Bregor chuckles a little.
"IF we do not find another crossing, my question as to the general state of the bandit’s wits will be answered."
"We should mark this location on the map, anyway," Kyrie suggests. "With that rope still in place it should be a lot easier to rebuild a bridge here, and it's as good a place to cross this river as any."
As the discussion about the bridge and what to do about a crossing goes on, There is someone who happens to notice something unusual.
Kyrie turns to look, then dismounts and gets out her bow in a single smooth movement, nocking an arrow and taking aim at the form shambling out of the water, then glancing around for additional threats. "Oh, this can't be good..."
Sia snaps up just after Kyrie comes to attention before her eyes settle on the apparition. "No, not good at all."
|
|
In a desperate attempt to find out what it might be, Gorax shouts at the creature, "Oi you, thing! Stay where you are don't come no closer, we have weapons and will defend ourselves. Stay there and you won't come to no harm." Though he doesn't expect this to work, it might make the creature hesitate.
"I really must say that I much prefer the dead to stay out of the affairs of the living."
Bregor produces his sword and taps it lightly against his shield, ready for trouble if trouble is ready for him.
The figure continues to approach, heedless of Gorax's warning or the obviously armed adventurers with the high ground. It exits the water, starting its assent up the cliff. At the same time it emits an eerie soggy warning. “You are not my tormentors. Throw the Stag Lord’s body into the river that I may look upon his death, or join me instead.”
Sia looks totally baffled at the request, before shrugging her shoulders. "Seems a reasonable enough thing," she responds. "I don't think he'll be using it anymore if we ever manage to."
Kyrie nods at Sia, although doesn't lower her bow as long as the figure keeps advancing. "If that's what he needs to find peace and pass on, I'm willing to try it," she replies. "Of course, if we do and he still won't go away, that's another problem, but we can worry about that afterwards."
"Ah, there are plentiful tales indeed about men and women coming back from beyond the grave to avenge a misdeed done unto them. Once the Staglord is cold at our feet, his body will serve feeding the fish as well as the wolves or crows...just do not serve me any fish from that river for six months after."
As Sia and Kyrie voice their assents, the figure stops. He comes no further but neither does he retreat back to the water. He simply stands there, dripping continually and staring at the five travelers with cold dead eyes.
"...he's not leaving." Sia says, glancing around while she states the obvious. "I think he's waiting for more."
"I think he's waiting for you and Bregor to agree as well," Kyrie mutters sotto voce to Gorax.
|
|
"Well of course I'm gonna agree to that, we've come out here to rid the wilds of that bandit and his breed. I thought that was obvious." Gorax says quite loudly to Kyrie, not quite comprehending the apparition can't discern his motives. He turns to Bregor, "Well tell him Bregor, we've come to rid this country of that bandit Stag Lord, you're better with words than me."
"Hmmm, a sworn oath to a dead man? Very poetic I am sure."
Bregor slowly gets down on one knee, putting both of his hands on his sword he solemnly speaks.
"By my blade I hereby swear that I speak the truth, we will defeat the stag lord, and make his body into an offering so that you may enter the hereafter and find peace."
The figure's head turns to each person who speaks, but still he remains standing at the water's edge. No aggressive action or even stance taken, but neither is there any retreat. Waiting.
"Perhaps he simply desires the peace of solitude? Since we are unlikely to cross here, mayhap we should retreat from this location and leave him to his own devices?"
"That's...probably a good idea." Sia agrees with Bregor, edging towards the horses. "Quickly."
Kyrie nods, but can't quite resist adding, "Unless Gorax would like to go for a swim first," while she edges backward toward her horse.
Bregor smirks a little at Gorax distress, the big man was a good friend, but he seldom noticed sarcasm, even if it bit him on the backside.
"Let us be off then."