The deliveries aren't regular- its a simple case of any brigands working this area and north towards Rostland bringing him tribute from time to time. With the bandit camp in the forest no more, the deliveries have likely already slowed.
The deliveries aren't regular- its a simple case of any brigands working this area and north towards Rostland bringing him tribute from time to time. With the bandit camp in the forest no more, the deliveries have likely already slowed.
The deliveries aren't regular- its a simple case of any brigands working this area and north towards Rostland bringing him tribute from time to time. With the bandit camp in the forest no more, the deliveries have likely already slowed.
A week passes as the Guardians prepare for their infiltration of the Stag Lord's fort. Hoping to be able to take drinks at some point and possibly catch the Stag Lord in a drunken stupor, the group delay their arrival until the evening. Fenna's guiding star is high in the sky above, and hidden though she is in the wagon Oleg has lent the group she takes comfort in its presence. It is about 8PM in the evening as Malthir and Fenna are loaded into the wagon, stowing away in cramped crates.
The wagon is full of trade goods and alcohol, donated by Oleg and the locals at the request of Vaysh- people are very happy to help the renowned Guardians of the Greenbelt. Dressed in the garb of defeated bandits and hauling the wagon with two horses (I assume Shadow and Malthir's horse), Yelena, Kalev and Casimir steel themselves as they slowly approach the Stag Lord's fort.
The fort is well lit, torches strategically placed to give maximum light coverage at mininum cost by the bandits. As you get within 100 feet of the fort, you can see a sentry in the closest watchtower to you. As you get within fifty feet of the watchtower, it seems he has been joined by another bandit. Both train longbows on Kalev, but make no move to fire, motioning for you to proceed closer. When you are a mere twenty feet from the gate...
Halt! cries one of the figures in the watchtower. You know how it works lads... Whats the password? Be quick about it, he's in a foul mood tonight I can tell ya!
Hey, Father, can you smell booze? the man asks the bandit to his left, a much older man.
I believe that they are indeed bearing an abundance of alcohol yes Ayles... A valuable necessity for our community here... the older man answers his fellow watchman.
Ayles spots Yelena and snickers. Sorry about that, can tell your no lad now I look closer fork-tongue! Yer not half bad-looking anyways hurgh... he says as he makes a crude gesture, earning him a stern look from the bandit stood by him.
Ayles cuffs the older man across the head. Always about the bloody community with you ain't it? Once a priest, always a priest eh...
Perception (other modifiers are in play but not revealing them)
Perception (other modifiers are in play but not revealing them)
I like em' feisty Father... I might have to confess some sins to you sometime soon i'm afraid... Heh heh...
Aye piker, we've been out for a week now! Kressle's late with her shipment and some of the lads are saying she cut some of them down. The sweet smell of ale will be sure to perk our lord right up!
Halt! cries one of the figures in the watchtower. You know how it works lads... Whats the password? Be quick about it, he's in a foul mood tonight I can tell ya!
Hey, Father, can you smell booze? the man asks the bandit to his left, a much older man.
Dressed out in his best bandit outfit, Casimir sits in the front of the wagon besides Kalev. Taking a cue from Yelenas banter with the bandit sentry, he calls out.
Aye lads, my fiendish ladyfriend here's got the truth of it. We been working the road to Restov a good while now, and that cat was the best haul we caught in months. Enough ale and hooch in his wagon to throw a party that'll last a week. Don't know what word's you're using these days - been gone a while, ya'know. But the last ones we got were. "By the bloody bones of Saint Gilmorg, who wants to know." Now, are you going to let us sit out here on this load, or do you want a taste?
Casimir holds up a bottle and shakes it, letting the liquid inside play in the torchlight.
Ayles looks a little uncomfortable as a decision has suddenly been forced upon him.
I dunno Father... Maybe we should get Dovan?
There is a tense pause for a few moments as Ayles thinks.
The passwords old but your goods are too good to pass up- and I think if we shot you and took them for ourselves the lord could be angry to lose such good earners. In you come then, you horrible trio!
Ayles yells. A cheer can be heard from around the fort in response, which is quickly drowned out by a horrible, bestial roar- surely the Owlbear Kressle mentioned to you all.
The gates to the fort creak open and the Guardians wheel the wagon in. Stood in the yard are six or seven bandits, including a massive human, a duelist in an ornate chain shirt, a distinguished looking warrior thta must be Akiros- and the Stag Lord himself. Back further into the fort, the common room is clearly visible, with another four bandits apparently dicing.
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?...
Casimir bows his head to the powerful man in front of him.
My Lord! An honor to finally be in your presence. Kell's the name. The crew and I were recruited about two months back by your woman Kressle. She set us to work the North road to Restov while she squeezed that fat bugger Oleg. We had a run of bad luck, with slim pickings, until finally this juicy merchant comes rolling along. So we head's on down to the Thorn River Ford, as we been told to. Only, once we get's there, ain't no-one around. Place looked long abandoned, but there was signs of fighting and some fresh graves about. So we figure, us sittin' on a wagon-load of good, no sense in fooling about. So we get ourselves straight down her, to give M'lord his dues, as we been told is right and proper. Don't have no clue what happened to Kressle and her lads, but in any case, we present you this tribute from the three of us. I hope it pleases M'lord.
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.
Our lord is pleased. Akiros says softly as he hands Casimir, Yelena and Kalev a purse of gold each.
30 gold pieces each. Were I you, i'd take a bigger cut for yourselves before bringing tribute next time. Your welcome in our fort for the evening, but please be gone by midnight.
Akiros commands, as two grumbling bandits make to move over to the wagon and unload it.
Casimir moves to the wagon and hoists down a crate of liquor bottles.
This crate is the best of the bunch. Fine and pure, right what M'lord desires. As for the rest, just grab the ale barrels here in front. The crates in the back are filled with furs and other junk we took off a few hunters unlucky enough to wander our way. Nothing in there worth breaking a sweat over tonight, with so much ale about.
Cas turns to Kalev. Gurthag, give the lads a hand with the barrels. I'll carry the crate of the good stuff for Master Akiros here.
Casimir turns to Akiros. Lead the way, sir.
Akiros nods his consent as he leads you to the other side of the fort, still only thirty feet or so from the yard. As he reaches his own room, he stops by the doorway.
No further for you lad. He can be a difficult man, i'll take the goods from here.
Back at the wagon, Malthir and Fenna remain hidden as none of the bandits move the trade goods yet. Kalev is (I presume) helping to unload the alcohol. Couple of posts up shortly.
My, your a strong one! the dainty looking bandit helping Kalev to unload the wagon exclaims cheerfully. Shame you can't stay in the fort with us really, the Stag Lord could use someone as strong as you. Course, we got Auchs but hes no smarter than these horses, and Akiros is almost as strong but hes a bore... Names Topper Red by the way, whats yer story Tusky?
Nevermind your story... says the large bandit also helping, lowering a barrel with a grunt. No ones got to tell no one nothing here, we're a place of true freedom. You fancy dicing with us? Me names Norry... they call me Fat Norry here cus I likes lots of food...
Yelena finds herself with a couple of bandits vying for her attention. One of them successfully beats away the other, and bows deeply, attempting to catch her hand to kiss it. The man is dressed in expensive clothing, and is clearly from a noble background.
Celthric "Handsome" Kilburn at your service my lady- I aim to please... Perhaps you would enjoy a walk atop the battlements? Or if you would care to join the gambling, perhaps I may request that you sit with me, so that your good fortune may rub off on me? I seem to be having terrible luck...
Fenna sits tensely within her cramped barrel, resting her head against the wood in an effort to discern the details of the conversation outside.
As Casimir distracts Akiros and the men unloading, Malthir almost knocks his crate over shifting to make sure his sword is ready as well as his shield for the signal. The creak and the groan are evident to Kalev and the bandit Topper, but luckily the wagon shifts back as the horses are still not unhooked making a similar noise. Akiros looks over at the wagon as well but so far no one seems to comment on the creaky crates or wagon.
Malthir begins to sweat nervously as he waits for the shouts and sounds of battle and maybe the command word, but so far he hears nothing...
Casimir readily hands over the crate, but as Akiros grabs hold of it, Casimir waits a moment before releasing his grip, locking eyes with the fallen paladin.
Sounds like you lead a hard life here, Akiros. A brutal life. Make sure the Stag Lord gets this. Then perhaps you and I may exchange a few words - words for our ears alone, Casimir says softly.
Kalev starts unloading the barrels at Casimir's command. He flexes his muscles a little at Topper's comment. What'll the Stag Lord be using an "ox" for? he grins, but continues, Nah, I heard tell of a giant of a man, with the mind of a goblin, living down here. If the Stag Lord wants to keep me and my friends around, I'm sure that can be arranged.
At the mentioning of gambling, he nods, Sure, I'll roll some bones with you. As for my story, you'll have to ask when my mouth is not busy drinking, got it? He slaps the bandit on the back, nearly knocking him over.
Akiros nods slowly.
I thought something strange was going on here. I will say nothing right now- but you better have a damn good reason for being here under false pretences.
Akiros moves off into his room after delivering the alcohol to his master, takes a seat on a stoll and begins to drink a bottle of fine brandy for himself.
Malthir and Fenna remain hidden despite some onimous creaking in Malthir's crate. Yelena has a handsome bandit vying for her attention near the main gate, while Kalev has gone to gamble with four of the bandits. Casimir has been dismissed by Akiros and stands at the south end of the common room.
The Stag Lord is no doubt drinking himself into a sickened state. Most of the bandits are in high spirits and are celebrating with their new stock of alcohol. Five bandits went back upstairs, including the giant Auchs. Three of them are now in watchtowers above you. It seemed the fifth bandit went with Auchs to the central tower the giant calls home. Dovan, who is stood by the Owlbear's cage sharpening his knives; appears to be scrutinizing Casimir quite obviously. Akiros sits in his room, still within eyesight of the common room. The other bandits are in the common room with Kalev- four are making room for the half-orc to gamble with them, while Fat Norry is tearing into a huge piece of chicken. The older bandit called "Father" by Ayles is sat asleep by the fire (denoted by a blue circle), while sat nearby to him a grizzled looking veteran sketches something on a piece of parchment. The Owlbear imprisoned nearby howls in fury but is mostly ignored. The cage is held shut by a rope mechanism.
A bandit moves along the bench to make room for Kalev, acknowledging him with a nod and then continuing his tirade against the man sat opposite Topper.
Dammit Jeb, last round you claimed that rolling double 6 twice was a bad thing, now you say it doubles the winnigs? Quit changing the rules berk!
Cragger Kench, and this cheating scumbag is Dirty Jeb. E' likes to think he earned that nickname for dirty fighting, but we calls him that because he avoids baths... the man murmurs to Kalev.
Hail fresh blood... How much are you in for? We're up to three gold pieces for every round of betting now, so place your gold down if your ready to play. Shame Celthric's got himself distracted with that tiefling strumpet, he tends to finance our drink and women with his terrible gambling, heh...
A bandit moves along the bench to make room for Kalev, acknowledging him with a nod and then continuing his tirade against the man sat opposite Topper.
Dammit Jeb, last round you claimed that rolling double 6 twice was a bad thing, now you say it doubles the winnigs? Quit changing the rules berk!
Cragger Kench, and this cheating scumbag is Dirty Jeb. E' likes to think he earned that nickname for dirty fighting, but we calls him that because he avoids baths... the man murmurs to Kalev.
I can tell, Kalev says making a mocking show of holding his nose, then roaring in laughter. What's the game? And are you ready to get beaten to your breeches? Kalev adds, smiling innocently to the bandits (or as innocently as a half-orc can smile).
Topper snorts in amusement.
Jeb calls it 'Dicelords of the Greenbelt'- we all roll two dice and bid on the numbers we think will come up in the round. But the rules seem to be very complex and change frequently... Topper finishes, glaring at Jeb who grins back.