"I don't know that one. I can move stuff, but nothing as big as the doe. Maybe we all get on the upper level and leave the doe right by the door and I can just open it from up there."
Bassius nods at Terri. "I'll carry the deer to wherever we need. However, if we are planning on hiding on the upper level, we may want to more the horses upwind first. I doubt this beast will die fast from poison."
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"We should probably lock the gate too," Terri adds before guiding the horses out and away from the fort before circling around so that they are down wind of the fort. When she returns she bars the gate , with help from her stronger companions and looks for a way to barricade the stairs up.
"Hey, can someone with more muscles help me with this," she calls out after struggling for several minutes with some of the heavier crates.
After the preparations have been made, the deer carcass is placed not too far from the entrance to the owlbear's cell. The creature hoots and growls, obviously smelling the fresh meat.
Once everyone is safely on the stairs, and frankly most of the way up them, Terri casts her spell to remove the bar from the gate. Moments later the owlbear descends upon the offered meal, greedily gobbling it up.
The minutes slowly pass, seeming like hours while you wait for the poison to take effect, but seemingly that never happens.
("sickened" from being malnourished)
Following its meal, the owlbear curls up into the corner of the entry way to the fort and fall asleep.
Terri keeps up a front of cheerful optimism for several minutes.
"Don't worry. I'm sure it'll take effect any moment now!"
"Hey! It's big, so it's probably gonna take a few minutes. I bet it'll keel over any moment now."
"It's, uh, It's starting to have an effect. I think?"
"See! It's working! It's working!"
"It's... It's just asleep isn't it," she asks before her shoulders slump and her head falls. "Aw! I've got us trapped with a hungry monster that didn't even get a tummy ache."
She looks at the others sheepishly after a moment of self-pity. "So, anyone got another plan? We're kinda stuck here unless we want to climb down the walls."
Tove watches on hopefully as the creature devours it’s meal and settles down to sleep.
As the bard blames herself Tove gives her a gentle slap on the back.
”It isn’t your fault Terri, we all thought this would work.”
She quietly strings her bow and readies herself for a fight.
”We should deal with it quickly. Ivo, do you think you can get to it while it’s still asleep?”
"I know. I know. I'm just the one that suggested it," she chuckles before pulling out Dancing Starlight, whose blade sparkles in the sun as if dotted with dozens of tiny stars.
"I can go with him, just in case. I don't think I'd be much help hauling on a rope if we have to pull him out of there quickly."
Ivo sneaks noiselessly into the cage. He cocks the pistol and puts the barrel about an inch from the sleeping owlbear's head.
"Good bye, George," he says.
Ivo quietly sneaks up to the sleeping owlbear, aiming his pistol he takes a shot. A very loud moment later, the deed is done.
(sickened)
Following the death of the owlbear. The party loads up the wagons and prepares for the journey back to Oleg's trading post.
"Think Oleg would want it? It would make a heck of a trophy if stuffed."
After examining it quickly, Bass says "It would, except for the hole Ivo left in it's skull. A shame. we'll have to cut it into a few pieces to take it out of the fort to bury it."
You spend a bit of time disposing of the owlbear's remains and afterwards begin your journey back to Oleg's trading post.
Shortly after dusk you reach the Thorn River camp, once occupied by Kressle. Setting up camp you enjoy a calm quiet night and enjoy quiet meal before rising early in the morning to continue your trip to Oleg's.
Old Duncan has decided to stay the night, opting for a night in a more protected place than the open road before returning to Restov.
Even as pleasantly fair as Old Duncan is, you find yourself ready for something new as you discuss local rumors with the guard captain, Kesten Garess.
After another long and uneventful day of travel, you arrive at the gates of the trading post at dusk. Outside the gates you see multiple wagons, looks like Old Duncan is in from Restov making a delivery. If you're lucky you might even be able to put in an order for goods from Restov before he leaves.
Alton and Jake are on patrol and greet you as you arrive at the trading post. "Welcome back." Alton says. "You've been gone a while, the Levetons were beginning to worry about you."
Jake being the more keen-eyed of the pair asks, "Where's Raz? Did he decide to take off like Theodore and Jacobus?" as you enter the gates of the former fort/trading post.
Over to the western side of the trading posts walls, you see Kesten Garess, along with Kev and Velsin, talking with a strange looking "man". The newcomer has pitch black skin, white hair, and red eyes with black sclera. He has short horns protruding from above his brow. On his back is a large blade, blacker than his skin, with runes that seem to glow and beat as if the blade had a heart and the runes, its veins.
While the others deal with disposing of the owlbear's carcass, Tove slips away and climbs to the highest point of the fort. Once she is there, she sits down and sets the Stag Lord's helm in front of her as she surveys the view.
She closes her eyes in quiet, solemn meditation, and prays to Erastil for the strength to carry such an artifact without falling into corruption.
When she returns to the others, the 'Stag Lord' is reborn.
Tove removes her newly claimed helmet and ties it off on her saddle before they approach the Trading Post, not wishing to alarm anyone.
"Alas, our noble companion has fallen," she answers the guards. "But he did not give up his life in vain. The old Stag Lord is no more."
She holds out the man's severed head as proof of her claim.
"Yeah, Raz, uh, decided to take off to Pharasma's place," says Ivo uneasily. "He sure did a number on the Stag Lord's bandits on his way out, though."
Hearing the guard call out and then the gate opening shortly after, Kalaman turns and sees the "charter bearers" coming in the fort. Kalaman will walk slowly over to the party, and stopping slightly out off of their apparent path, watching the ones he's been hearing about from Kesten, and the other guards around Oleg's.
Jake and Alton's eyes widen when Tove produces the head the "old" Stag Lord. Regaining their composure, they both say - almost in unison, "Sorry for your loss. He was a good man." Jake adds, "Good to hear he gave as much as he got."
Alton cocks his head to the side, as if trying to process something, and asks, "What do you mean old Stag Lord, has some other horror already risen to take his place?"
Old Duncan sits outside at a table, drinking ale while talking with Oleg. Having seen you enter Oleg yells out in a jovial tone, "Welcome back! Good to have you here. Lana was beginnin' worry about the lot of you." His expression sours when he sees that the party seems to be short a member and he overhears the conversation between Tove, Ivo, Jake, and Alton before uttering, "Damned shame, seems like Lana's worries weren't misplaced, but at least most of you have made it back. Lana, come on out, our bandit killin' friends are back!"
Terri keeps up morale by singing and telling stories many are local legends, but just as many are from far off places and about fantastical things. Some are silly, others are full of bold heroes and derring-do. She weaves magic into her words, causing various effects to enhance the telling.
"He did fall, but let us not be sad. He shall have the last laugh as his name is remembered for the hero he was. If you stay the night, you shall hear of his bravery. I'll be sharing the tale of our daring raid and his heroic role as he sought to end the vile monster's reign," Terri adds.
Tove allows the conversation to progress until she is finally questioned on her choice of words.
"The Stag Lord's Helm, the artifact from which he drew his power, and for which he was so named, turns out, in fact to be a holy relic of Old Deadeye, our lord Erastil." Tove explains.
"Now that it has been rid of the head of this bandit scum, I will be claiming the mantle myself, in the name of the church. By Erastil's will, I will see these lands made a glorious paradise. And the visage of the Elk-headed god will be a symbol of tyranny no longer, but rather one of community and hope."
While the rest of the party is talking with Oleg's guards, Bass will walk up to Old Duncan's caravan. Hello there, good merchant! I have a message for you to take to the Lord Mayor on your return journey to Restov. The Stag Lord is dead!" The paladin then hands a letter, bound in a cylinder with a length of twine.
Bass then goes to greet Oleg and Lana, and see who the strange new arrival is.
To Lord Mayor Sellemius of the Free City of Restov, Jewel of Rostland and Protectorate of the Dragonscale Throne, greeting.
In this time of turmoil and uncertainty that rests upon the whole of Brevoy, it is with great joy that I report that the bandit know as the Stag Lord has been slain, and his band of scoundrels put to the sword. As a holder of the charter given by the Swordlords under your authority, I have a question for your Lordship concerning the continuance of our mission. Having quelled the most pestilent banditry in the Stolen Lands, are we to add to our mission the coordination and overseeing of settlement in the Greenbelt?
If this course of action is amenable to your Lordship, I have a proposed location for an initial settlement. The fort the bandits used as a base is located at northern end of the Tuskwater, at the mouth of the river Shrike. It has good stonework, and could serve as an anchor for the extention of Restov's influence into the whole of the Stolen Lands.
Given for your earnest consideration by
Bassius Vibulus of House Vibulus of Taldor, Paladin of Abadar serving the Bank of Restov, Charter-holder.
Old Duncan takes the scroll from Bassius.
"Aye, I can do that for ya. If you're expectin' a response I won't be back for a fortnight - unless of course someone makes it worth my while, then I can be back in four days."
Bassius exchanges pleasantries with the Levetons before making his way over toward the strange looking newcommer that had been talking to Kesten.
To Old Duncan - Reaching into his belt purse, Bass replies, "Would 5 crowns serve that purpose?"
Bassius approaches the new stranger with a neutral look on his face, armor on, with his sword sheathed and his helm in the crook of his sword arm. Best to make a good, strong, yet non-threatening impression. If he's as skilled a fighter as he looks, we could use his blade in taming these wilds.
Switching his helmet to his left hand as he reaches the ifrit? Fetchling? Tiefling? At any rate, switching his helm to his left hand, the paladin reaches out to shake with his right. "Hello. I'm Bassius Vibulus, paladin of Abadar and a warden of these wild regions. May I have the pleasure of your name?"
Old Duncan responds, "I suppose that would do the job. I leave in the morning."
Terri watches Tove for a moment with growing concern. She wasn't too worried, but worried enough that as things died down, she pulls the priestess aside.
"Are you feelin' alright? That was, uh, a bit much," she says. Her smile is gone, replaced by a concerned frown.
Reaching out to grasp the proffered hand, " The name is Kalaman Mar." Kalaman says. He seems cautious, as would befit someone born and raised in the stolen lands, and ran out of nigh every town he has tried to make his home before giving up and living on the road.
"I'm not sure what you mean, Terri. These lands belong to Lord Erastil. The Temple of the Elk is proof enough of that. It is my destiny to deliver them back in to his hands. My position here, my joining the priesthood at all..." Tove catches herself before oversharing anything from her past.
"Erastil has chosen me, Terri. The Stag Lord's mantle is mine to bear. These lands will be Old Deadeye's once more.
Terri's concern fades into a look that a nanny would give unruly children.
"I think that mantle has gone straight to your head, Tove," she says flatly before sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm not saying Erastil didn't choose you, but that's not what destiny is."
Terri looks up at Tove, her mismatched eyes focused on something far away. She sighs again, this time out of resignation rather than exasperation. She doesn't want to tell Tove this, but she feels that she needs to.
"The matron at the orphanage I was raised in once told me that I was destined to be nothing but a plague. She told me that after she had spread rumors and lies that lead to the two people that were the closest I ever had to parents being burned at the stake," Terri tells Tove. "If I had believed her, I would be a terror. I could have joined the Stag Lord instead of helping to defeat him. Destiny isn't something that is meant to be, Tove. It is something that we forge with each step and each decision we make. Sure, you may be here because Erastil helped guide you here, but the gods cannot make choices for us. You had to choose to follow him. So, don't be so quick to assume that it's destiny at work. It never is. We are free to choose our own paths. I came here to explore this place and do some good where I can. Don't make me decide I need to make it my destiny to deflate your ego a bit."
When Terri's openness finally breaks through Tove's defenses it is instantly noticeable. Her head drops, the muscles in her neck and shoulders loosen.
She sighs, audibly.
"I'm sorry. It's just... the day that my parents disappeared, I was running through the forest, searching everywhere I knew. And I swear I saw Him, watching me, the great stag. He looked so sad, Terri, like he was in pain. I knew that whatever it was that had taken my parents, that evil which poisoned this land, it had to be driven away. And He needed my help."
"That was the day I decided to join the priesthood. I thought, if I could cleanse these lands of the evil which pervades them, if I could bring joy back to the eyes of the Stag God, then maybe, just maybe... my parents might come back to me."
Tove shook her head.
"I know, the foolish delusions of a child. I'm sorry. But when I put on that helmet, when I felt that power coursing through me, for the first time in my life it seemed like it might actually be possible."
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Hearing Tove's story gives Terri pause. She hadn't realized how much pain the priestess must have endured before they met. She had experienced the same loss as Tove had. It is a strange thing, she thinks, to find herself becoming friends with a woman who had endured the same loss.
"Perhaps they are, and perhaps they are not. Either way, do not let the past blind you to the present or the future. If it is possible, I'll help you find them, Tove. If it isn't, I'll still be there for you as a friend and a sister."
Terri pulls Tove into a hug. She pours every ounce of love she can into the embrace, wanting Tove to know that no matter what or who she serves, she is loved.
"What brings you to a humble wilderness trading post?" Bassius is also cautious in his attitude, but open and not unfriendly.
Terri's hug was everything that Tove needed in that instant. She squeezed the bard tight once more before finally letting her go.
"Thank you Terri. Truly."
She looks towards the open doors of the trading post.
"Come on, it sounds as though we have a new face to meet".
"It does, doesn't it," Terri says with a grin. As she heads towards the doors with Tove, she looks up and gives the priestess a smile that's far less impish. "I'll always be there for you, Tove. It's what families do for one another. You never have to thank me for that."
Entering the trading post, she spies Bassius talking to a strange newcomer. Terri wonders what kind of voice he would have with his devilish features and obviously fiendish ancestry.
Not that it did anything to curb her exuberance when she steps in to introduce herself.
"He obviously heard about the two lovely maidens helping to rid this land of the demon known as the Stag Lord and just had to see for himself," she butts in, a grin that could very easily promise mischief on her face. "Alas, with our tale spreading far and wide we shall be awash in well-wishers and suitors of every stripe. He is but the first, I say. A harbinger of what is to come. Oh how my heart flutters with anxiety at the mere thought!"
Obviously not taking herself seriously at all, she gives an overly dramatic swoon with the back of her hand on her forehead and the fluttering eyelashes.
Seeing that the paladin isn't trying to run him off yet, raz replies more openly " this wilderness is my home. And I'm here at this trading post for work. I was helping old Duncan make sure his wares arrive. These past several years I have been guarding caravans and settlements," Kalaman says
Tove narrowed her eyes at the stranger.
"A noble profession, guarding the honest folk of these lands. It's a job that we happen to take very seriously. So what's the rest of your story?"
"My story is one of an orphan. Growing up in these lands for one of obvious fiendish descent was not easy, as I was ran out of most the towns I tried to stay.i found that merchants cared more for their wares and money than prejudices, and often enough other towns were more scared of what was lurking outside their abodes that they were of me, so I would be hired to protect the wares and money, and their homesteads. As for my journey, ever since I found this sword here, I've been searching for its origins, grabbing up any piece of information I can get my hands on." Kalaman replies to the cleric who seems to have her preconceived notions of those with fiend blood coursing through their veins. But he seems to be unfazed by her attitude, as it is one he has seen quite a lot during his life.
Garathane will approach Kalaman and offer up a hand. "The Wild Lands are a good place for someone to cast off an old life and old hurts and begin anew. Folks down here are more interested in survival then anything else. I don't know if you'll find the mysteries of your blade here, but there is plenty more interested in how you can help out then what your bloodline is."
As the tiefling tells his story, Bassius nods appreciatively. "An intimidating blade, to be sure. If protecting merchants is your profession, then I commend you for being of such service to a society that has otherwise rejected you. " After Garethane introduces himself, Bass gestures to his companions (), "My companions and I have been tasked by the Swordlords of Restov with taming this land for further settlement. If you are as skilled with that blade as it is fearful, and my companions are amenable, then we may have use for your services as a comrade in arms." Bass ends his short speech with a slightly quizzical look aimed at Tove.
"Oh, I suppose I should introduce myself. Terri Riverrun, at your service," she says with a graceful curtsy. "As Bassius here says, we'd be more than happy to have you along. I'd love to hear your story for one, though I know some things are painful to recount."
"The sword and I are one, now, bound by fate. It is I, and I am it. Which is why I am so driven to find out what it is, where it came from and why, because it is like finding out who I am. As for my skill with the blade our bond has allowed us to transcend normal martial abilities. I am able to channel my magic abilities through the blade as if it were an extension of my body." Kalama replies before turning to the bard, "pleased to meet you,Terri. As for my story, I believe that it is for another day."
Whether satisfied with Kalaman's answers or simply outnumbered, Tove nods to the stranger.
"If what you say is true, then Bassius is right. Your services would indeed be welcomed as we continue in our quest to bring peace to these lands."
She extends a wary hand toward the tiefling.
"Cleric Hellstrom, of the Church of Erastil."
"kalaman Mar, of the church of hard knocks." Kalaman responds picking up on her reluctance, and teasing at her for it
Terri snickers at Kalaman's teasing of Tove.
"I like him. Can we keep him? Pleeeeeeease," she teasingly begs the priestess.
There's no telling where Ivo is while the questioning of Kalaman goes on. He might be hiding somewhere, just watching. Listening.
Judging.
Bassius chuckles at the bard's puppy eyes and childish manner.
Tove sighs and claps Terri on the shoulder before removing herself from the conversation, walking over to discuss how the Trading Post was fairing with the Leveton's.
Terri laughs and grins at Tove before turning back to Kalaman.
"I guess that means you welcome to join our merry band if you wish," she says before holding out her hand.
"Hey Tove? I didn't take it too far, did I," she asks the priestess.
Terri spends much of the night regaling those at the post with the tale of how the Stag Lord fell. There's much embellishment with Razarak's getting the lion's share of them, though there are a good number to times that actions the others took are, ah, enhanced for entertainment. Songs and music fill the air as everyone eats and drinks. By the time everyone begins to settle down for the night, Terri is worn out, and doesn't take long to find sleep the night.
"traveling these lands in a group is definitely safer than going alone, and as it seems you are tasked to explore ever nook and cranny of the stolen lands, than I see no down side in partnering up."Kalamazoo says to Terri