Braegan hesitates, seeing how his teammates fare.
The large man blinks at Yrja's hex, but is otherwise unmoved. "Th' 'thorities!" he calls in a rough Taldan lower-class accent.
Chiquq fails to connect with the female archer, but Dezső's bolt catches her squarely with a shot, rocking her back with a snarl and a gasp.
Likewise, Imendri slashes into the other man, biting into his flank with Yulin's sword.
Braegan has a burnination Surprise remaining!
"STAND DOWN OR WE'LL CUT YOU DOWN!"
The man is so startled he almost drops his sword. "F-fall back!" he says, in more of a squeak than a shout.
Round 1, The Real Round One
Conditions: Still Snowing and Difficult Terrain.
Yrja
Imendri
Braegan
Dezső
Chiquq
Big Guy - Shaken
Smaller Dude -8 HP
Archer Lady -6 HP
Seeing them breaking, Braegan hustles forward through the snow, drawing his small dagger to harry their archer.
"I SAID STAND DOWN!"
Yrja curses under her breath as her hex fails. She brightens up again as she sees the brigand's reaction to Braegan's shout; perhaps his mind is now sufficiently weakened to be more susceptible to a spell. Reaching in a pouch at her belt, she speaks the words of the spell.
Dezső senses his companions getting ready to move in, so he reloads and snaps off another shot at the uncouth woman with his crossbow before one of his allies closes the distance with her.
Chiquq swings her spear again at the smaller man, grim-faced.
She is prepared to strike at any of them who might try to flee, as well.
Imendri looks sidelong with a 'whoops' expression, then turns back to the man he'd just savagely cut - only to lean forward and scream in his face.
"HRAAAAG--!!!!!" he begins, but then chokes on some inhaled pine needles.
In the space of a few heartbeats, our heroes decimate the brigands: Dezső's bolt strikes the woman in the neck, dropping her to the ground, arterial blood spurting in pulsing, but rapidly diminishing arcs. Chiquq's spear impales the smaller man, and he also falls in a widening red smear. Yrja's spell catches the already intimidated larger man full force, and he joins his fallen companions, still alive, but practically foaming at the mouth in his helplessness.
Imendri pulls a pine needle out from under his tongue. Ewww. Braegan's dagger gleams dully in the sun-obscured morning, and snow continues to softly fall on the now-quiet scene.
As the woman falls, Dezső gives a grim nod, tucks his crossbow away, dons his armored coat, and takes his sword back from Yrja, with thanks. Dezső leaves the man to Imendri and Chiquq, who are right beside the bandit.
All that done, looks around for other hazards or relevant information.
Dezső finds nothing of note in the area. The bandits were clearly on lookout, but don't have any sizeable loot or defenses. There are three short swords and shortbows, 60 arrows, three bucklers and their padded armor suits (two rather bloody), and 24 gold coins, and 15 silver pieces. A pitiful lot.
Dezső can see that the trail leads down from the ridge towards some sort of ravine or valley, but trees, fog, and the terrain block much further after that.
Chiquq hurriedly begins to disarm the would-be-bandits of their weaponry. starting with the sleeping man
"What do we do with this sleeping one? Wake him and ask him why they are out here? If they know anything of the fey here?"
She has her spear held at the man's throat for when he wakes.
Braegan steps over, watching the three, "Do we have rope to bind them? If they have information at all, I want it."
He kneels down over the fallen man and removes his gloves, bearing his ruined hands. When the man's eyes open, he gives a wicked grin.
"So, friend, this is how this is going to play out. We were told the only other humans back this way would be any response the locals send after us. We're supposed to destroy that response. Burn them. Bury them. Send a damn scary message, if you catch my meaning"
He gives a false frown, indicating their Kellid clothes, "But you don't look like what I expected. So you have one chance ... " he holds up a single burned, scarred finger right in front of the man's nose, "to prove that you're not from Heldren, and that you're actually on the team of my boss and all of our fey friends. I need names and locations. And the first whiff of a life I or my friends detect ..." his finger ignites under the man's nose, and Braegan's wicked grin deepens to a menacing snarl. His hand catches fire. "and the pain of a few nicks will seem like a tender touch."
Dezső considers with interest this deceitful approach to interrogation. He stands with his sword drawn behind Braegan and in the man's line of sight, looking diabolical. His tail sways impatiently in front of his body.
Imendri sits down in the snow where he was standing, and spits any remaining detritus to the floor beside him. He is otherwise silent, simply holding his sword, lain across his lap.
I actually rolled elsewhere. You're not actually peeking, are you? :D
The big man quails and blubbers at the sight of Braegan and his burnt hands, and the Kellids and Ulfen towering over him combined with his compatriots bleeding out in the snow is enough to demoralize him completely.
"No! By the Gray Master, no, damn it all, I ain't from Heldren! Oh Jol," he says, tears filling his eyes as he looks at the woman's corpse, "Jol, this wasn't what we was plannin'! I--I--ok, kindly sars, I kin give ye names--" he collects himself for a moment, blowing his nose noisily.
"We're...ah...Rokhar's Raiders, yep, that's us, and we're Taldan, same as...hm...guess yer not. Rokhar is our leader, up in the Lodge. We..." he looks uncomfortable as he continues, "Well, there's the High Sentinelin' Lodge up yonder past the crick, and we...uh...it's oursn's now." He looks very uncomfortable. He looks at Braegan timidly. "Th'---th'--who's th' boss, the troll...or Ee-zo-zee?"
The High Sentinel Lodge is the local Taldan militia outpost. Bunch of Heldrenites there. Not well manned these days.
You're pretty sure Rokhar's Raiders killed the Sentinels. He looks guilty as sin.
Sounds like two bosses: a troll, and some Ee-zo-zee type he can't pronounce at all.
He's totally telling the truth. He's scared to death.
Chiquq frowns, with all the names being foreign to her. She shrugs and keeps her spear aimed at the man's throat.
Yrja stands to one side, taking her cue from Dezső and trying to look mean and menacing. She is a little taken aback at how quick the encounter has ended, and a little regretful at the violence and the death they inflicted. It is the first time she has witnessed such, and she's a little shaken although she tries not to show it. The world is a harsh place, and it has grown increasingly harsh over the past few days; she supposes she will have to get used to violence and killing, and even do some of that herself.
Hearing the man's response, she steps forward, drawing herself up; she remembers how Mahb's voice sounded when she gave Yrja a task to do, that flick of command and the expectation to be obeyed. She tries to do the same as she asks her questions.
"Rokhar's Raiders, pwfah! What a pathetic bunch you are. For Rokhar's sake, I hope your friends at the Lodge are better prepared than you, else a company such as ours would make short work of them. They'd better have posted guards, they surely have the numbers for that."
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Braegan chews his lip, considering the information as he waits waits for the man’s response to Yrja’s additional questions. ”At this point, this is as close to a job interview as you’re likely to get … your Raiders are rubbish. Show us how helpful you can be, friend.”
Dezső has no idea what the man is talking about, so he maintains his posture. He listens and observes very carefully, trying to understand his allies' technique and observe every subtle aspect of the man's reactions, even though he cannot make sense of it all at this point.
"...the Raiders be sick, me lords. Most of 'em got the chillbane shakes. I dweren't want trafficking with more cold fey, an it please ye. Guards are Rokhar's..." he shivers, and looks cold. "Rokhar raises the dead," he says in a quiet voice. "And thar be cold things in the river. Guardin' and warnin' the way in. They let us by, but not intruders, lessin' ye have a sign. Ye have something from the...troll? Er the fey? Ye have a sign showin' yer friends?"
He thinks a minute, gnawing on a finger. "I kin take you to the river, but if'n I be goin' to the Lodge, Rokhar will have me throat." He shivers. "And he probably would use it after, if'n you catch my meaning." He gulps, then finds a bit of resolve. " Find Tacey and tell her to come to this side of the river, and we'll trouble ye no further. Ten-Penny Tacey. Half-orc. She hates it here as well. Best we go to Qadira at this point," he mutters to himself, spitting out the hated name of Taldor's rival--even a thief has some honor--"At least'n it be warm there."
Imendri furrows his brow in thought. Absent-mindedly, he's drawn a butterfly in the snow with his finger.
Braegan lets the pretense drop, and he steps back from the man. ”You don’t even know who you’ve allied yourself with, and you were wiling to spill blood for them? Your own people’s blood, no less.” His disgust is evident. ”You’re lucky we didn’t kill you. So here’s the deal. You give us whatever token will let us bypass the river guardians … as well as any other pass phrases or traps we need to be aware of, and you get to walk away. And you go south. If we find your half-orc, and she doesn’t prove a threat, I’ll give her the same deal.”
He gives the man a hard look, ”And just in case you’re thinking to double-back to make more problems for us … this is the last time we’ll let you walk away alive. We see you, we kill you. Got it?”
Braegan takes a moment to collect himself, making sure his teammates know what he knows.
”Anyone know anything about the Sentinel Lodge? Defenses? Sounds like we’ll be more or less raiding it,” he gives a grim half-grin, but no humor reaches his eyes, ”like some big damn heroes, no? Though frankly I’d much rather sneak in and hit’em unawares, if it’s possible.”
The man hesitates. "I...uh...look, we're just followin' Rokhar's orders. Us Raiders clashed with the fey and then Rokhar, he made a deal. I don't have inni token, but I kin take ye to the river and vouch for ye. ...so ye...aren't with the fey? Who..." the man wisely decides not to ask any more questions.
He's speaking the truth. He doesn't appear to want to betray you to the 'cold things'...at least, not willingly or deliberately. :D
Braegan knows the Lodge well. He doesn't know any of them well, but there are a few Heldrenites at the Lodge filling in as High Sentinels. It used to be manned by Isker and some other men, but they retired, leaving less experienced soldiers from Heldren and Demgazi to fill the ranks...not as well, as Isker has complained on several occasions, but then again, there haven't been hostilities with Qadira in quite some time. You've heard of the Sentinels clashing with bandits before, but never anything so serious, and the idea that the Raiders have taken over the lodge is chilling, no pun intended.
Braegan knows nothing of Rokhar. If they have been in the Wood long, Heldren hasn't come across them.
Braegan also knows nothing of "Ee-zo-zee" as a thing--but he knows it's not actually a word in Sylvan. It's not a fey, but clearly the bandits think it is.
: "I think he's telling the truth. It sounds like we might be able to find out more information about the fey from this Rokhar, and we should probably try to find out what happened to the militia at the Lodge."
As he thinks about the fey, Dezső double checks (by touch) that the fey in his pouch still seems to be unconscious.
The man pales at Dezső's suggestion. "That's between you 'n' Rokhar. He's likely to kill ye."
Dezső can tell that the fey is still unconscious. It is surely no longer invisible, although the tiefling isn't peeking right now.
Chiquq nods slowly at Dezso's words. She removes her spear point slowly from the man's throat, but makes no move to return his weapons to him. With a whistle, she calls Ila to her, and carries on taking the arrows and such the bandits were using. Ila is a very faithful pack-mammoth.
"I am ready to proceed," she grunts.
Braegan nods to Dez, responding in Hallit. "Agreed, and I think it's best to leave him here. He may decide to get brave if we get close to his people. Also, this 'Ee-zo-zee' ... despite what this man thinks ... isn't fey. The word's not even Sylvan."
He puts his glove back on at Chiquq's gesture, readying himself for travel. As he does, he continues in Hallit, "I don't imagine this same ruse would work on Rokhar. So we should assume we'll need to sneak or fight our way in. And we should be careful when we get there ... there might still be some living Heldrenites in there."
He looks over at the cowering man, switching back to Taldan. "This is your chance at survival, brigand. Leave now. Don't follow us. If this Ten-Penny cooperates, we'll send her south. And remember, this is the last time we let you walk away."
Braegan waits for the man to leave, not willing to move on with thier quest until the group can no longer even see him in the distance.
As the others see the brigand off, Yrja retraces their steps to untie the donkey and coax her up the slope. She then stands on the ridge, looking into the distance and counting on her fingers. "Taldan raiders. Undead. Troll. And someone or something called Ee-zo-zee." She shivers, then turns around to look at her companions. "That's quite a lot of foes to go up against. What do you make of our chances?"
"Fate's got our backs," Braegan responds with a grin practically oozing with bravado, "What could go wrong?"
As Braegan begins to dismiss the bandit, Dezső's face registers surprise and interrupts. : "Wasn't he going to guide us and get us across the river? Are we sure there isn't more useful information he can offer? Do you know where the Lodge is, Braegan?"
: "Hold. You said there was a river guardian and you could get us past it. Tell us more."
Dezső also wonders to himself: Why would they let the man go? Why let him live if he has essentially admitted killing militia from Heldren, and has indicated his intent to continue banditry? If we were in a city, we could turn him in to the authorities. But, since we are not and don't have time for a detour, don't we have a moral obligation to stop him from hurting anyone else? Why do they think it is more moral to let him go? Isn't that just being too cowardly to do the right thing yourself?
But Dezső keeps his thoughts to himself, because it is too early in their companionship to get into that sort of an argument.
"I don't trust he'll stick to his word. Who's to say he won't walk us into a trap? Who's to say he won't call out and warn of our approach? He's a brigand. Part of an outlaw group who attacked and took over the Sentinel Lodge. We got information from him, and now I think he's a liability to have around."
: "Ok, I am willing to follow your lead on this. Let's see if he tells us anything else about the river guardian, but I guess you know where the Lodge is and I guess we'll just figure the rest out ourselves.
But, if we can't trust him, are you sure we should let him go? What if he finds a way to warn the other bandits? And shouldn't he be punished for his crimes? Won't he just kill again? At the very least, why don't we just leave him tied up here and send his half-orc friend back to retrieve him?"
Braegan shrugs, "I didn't think of it? I didn't want him with us and I didn't want to just kill him. Let's go with your plan."
He turns back to the bandit, then nods to Dez, indicating his question about the guardian. "Answer him."
The man nods and gulps at the tiefling and Ulfen. "There'r twa of 'em. Twa cold beasties. Ice critters, named...Skiks and Scratch er something like that. Say yer from the fey and yer all right. And there's a snowman..."
He pauses, wondering why you might not know about the snowman, then looks at your weapons and continues. "...just walk around it. And walk around the blue parts of the ice. Ski...Skricks and...the other one...they make hollows in the river ice, t'pull folks through." He shivers. "Just get Ten-Penny, promise? I won't trouble ye agin."
Those names are probably Aquan...'Skrikks' and 'Szassh'.
Imendri walks back to his pack and hoists it onto one shoulder, per usual, and rummages around in it.
"Hoy, heers som food. Yuu can follow our traks. De animals eet's many around, watch out." Imendri points away from them, back toward the direction from which they came.
Yrja gives Imendri a surprised look at his gesture, then adds "There's a killed stag farther back if you follow our tracks. Plenty of meat left, and it should keep well in this cold." She seems to think of something and continues. If we should run into Ten-Penny, what name shall we give her so she knows the message is from you?"
The man nods and gulps at all of the generosity, thoroughly bewildered and confused as to who these dangerous, yet benevolent, strangers really are. "They call me Kwent...nobody calls me Quentanille," he says with a sheepish grin, revealing his real name as one of the many trendy Taldan 'unbearded' names that aspire to royalty, but fail. "I'll be at the end of the snow, still in the forest." He looks somewhat resolved and hopeful. Rokhar must not be a delightful boss...
With the goods packed away, Chiquq leans on her spear, wordlessly watching. She is less disposed than Imendri to give food to the enemy, but she makes no objections, either.
Braegan is also quiet through the Imendri and Yrja's generosity, and remains stoic as the man wanders off. When he's finally out of earshot, he mutters to the team.
"I'm no expert, but 'Skrikks' and 'Szassh' sound Aquan to me. Water creatures? Ice creatures? What do we know about fighting those?"
He rubs his hands against his body to reclaim some of the warmth lost during his bluff. "So unless someone knows of another approach to the Sentinel lodge I say we keep going. We'll just have to watch out for the snowman and the ice-critter-guarded river pass."
Dezső is bewildered by the acts of his companions. This man has killed for profit, and his life is forfeit. Why allow him to wander off, much less give him rations, to strengthen him for his next crime? He regrets that the death of this man's next innocent victim is now on their heads. But Dezső feels no confidence he can straighten his allies' confused moral compasses in the time available, so he skulks and prepares his belongings. He is ready to continue.
He does muse over the information the man provided during his preparations.