GM Barrister's Kingmaker Campaign

Game Master YttriumDervish

The land rush is on! Sent south by Brevoy, the heroes have the unenviable task of venturing into the infamous Stolen Lands and annexing the territory, facing down monsters, bandits, and worse. It's hard enough to conquer territory—but does a ragtag band of adventures have what it takes to found and defend a burgeoning kingdom from the terrors of the wild?

A sturdy stone-and-mortar building known colloquially as "The Tavern" sits on the corner, and is as bustling as every night. A well known and respected adventurer's hub, The Tavern serves patrons of all walks of life, and the diverse menu and drink selection reflects the varying palettes that venture through the stout wooden doors. From the commoner's meal of stewed turnips, cabbage and weak ale to the luxuriousness of Gated lobster, bananas, coffee, and other delicacies, one need only coin to get anything they desire.

Orders are taken from the stoic Bargolem, which deposits payment in a till behind the bar, bringing food and drink through a small window near-instantly. He never speaks, except to the staff; brief glimpses of cooks can be seen through the window, and the few servers, mostly used to clean up, retreat periodically through a door marked "Private."

Two enormous hearths sit on opposite walls, with the large bar occupying the space across from the entrance. Tables and chairs of varying sizes are scattered throughout the floor, with booths lining the free space on the walls; many of these are occupied, their seats filled with any sort of humanoid one could imagine.

The area is well-lit, both from the fires and the multitudes of Everburning Torches mounted to the ceiling rafters. A set of stairs adjacent to the main door lead to the rooms for rent on the second story, which can be acquired, as with all other items for sale, from "Beegee."

"Ah, we finally be here. Young one, get yer tookus over here!" Calling towards the young Garess, "Go secure us a room and take our possesions up there, Sv... I mean me friend and I here will get us a meal. Hop to it!"

Saddling up a stool at a table Cainbar plops himself ungracefully down. Setting his ancient dwarven weapon next to him he eyes the room seeing if there is anyone who might recognize the group.

"This be where Yolann sent us to go, before we set off. Maybe it be time we introduce ourselves formally." Looking towards the two humans, "Cainbar be the name, and Torag be my game. I know ye've been selected to join us in exploring these stolen lands, but I know nothing about ye. My friend here," Lazily waving a hand towards the Nagaji "I bet would love all the details, he and words have this thing. He speaks to many of them. I just need the stones and pebbles of it though. Get to the root of the vein. By the looks of it though it seems you can handle yourself, and have before."

Hopefully they can make up for the fact that we brought the kid with a book plastered on his nose along

Vorrs nods politely at the dwarf. He seems a bit nervous, but moves gracefully and looks like he knows how to use the longbow that hangs on his back. "My name is Vorrs. I have tracked and hunted on the edges of The Stolen Lands. Well met.

Ricean slaps Vorrs on the back. "Don't be so modest. Vorrs is the best hunter in these parts! I am Ricean and I pledge my sword and honor to our cause"

Sverlisk takes Reuben off to the side. Remember young master Garess, until we know we can trust these newcomers, you are not a member of the House Garess. Such a scandal would surely bring great dishonor to your father. And until my name is cleared, I am Essskr Lisstr. Go now and do as Cainbar says quickly, and then bring us a 3 ales, a mead for Cainbar, and some meat for all 5 of us. He hands the young lad a gold and 8 silver pieces.
Sverlisk returns to his dwarven comrade and the two humans and bows graciously as though he were back in court greeting noble dignitaries. I am called Essskr Lisstr. I am honored to make your acquaintance. It is with the greatest respect that we accept such highly reputed individuals as yourselves into our humble troupe. Sir Cainbar here hails from the Golushkin Mountains, and is a warrior of repute and honor. I am sadly a mere mapmaker, diplomat, and general jack of all trades. The young Mister Reuben is Cainbar’s loyal Paige and my devoted student. Come let us share drink and feast together before we set off on our mission in the morning.
Let us pray those marauders left us a trail to follow.

darn I should have read Reuben's backstory a little better, I thought he was going with the illegitimate half brother route.

It still sort of works, though. I could do illegitimate if needed.
Reuben, cornered by Sverlisk, nodded thoughtfully "I see. Certainly Master Lisstr. I will go by my patronymic then. Reuben Kseniya" he bows politely "At your service."

Reuben looks around the pub intently as he puzzles out the location of everything, then wanders over to the bargolem.

"Fascinating work." he mutters, his eyes playing over the golem's chassis. He repeats the order verbatim, adding "And a mead for me as well. Honey if you have it, spiced if you don't. Additionally I will require a room for three. If you can give me the key I will take up our possesions and return for the food."

Once bekeyed, Reuben loads himself down with all the miscellaneous gear that requires storage. It takes a little time to work out how to hold everything, and in the end he holds his butterfly net in his teeth lest it break under the weight. Loaded down like a pack mule he carefully navigates the door looking for a matching number. He happily dumps all of the gear on the beds, locks up and returns.

The food and drinks are ready, placed on an enormous wooden tray. Carefully steadying the precarious platter he manoeuvres through the room to the table, finally plonking the tray down and grabbing his mead.

"Hail and well met, fellows." he calls out cheerily as he sits "I am Reuben Kseniya. I don't believe we've met. Are you our new companions in this grand adventure?"

A troubled thought strikes him "I only acquired a room for three. Do you have a room already?"

Vorrs nods at Reuben, "Thank you young sir. And we will secure our own room for tonight. I know better than to give orders to someone else's paige. And holding up his mug and turning towards Canibar and Essskr, "And may our journey together be a success." After draining his mug, he asks Essskr "Is it possible to look at your maps? As I said, I have ventured into the edges of The Stolen Lands and would love to see a map of the region. And I also know a bit about geography, although I am not a scholar like you. Perhaps you could teach me how to read a map?"

Sverlissk waits for Reuben to take a drink of his mead. As the cup reaches his lips, He claps the boy on the back causing some of the mead to spill over his face and the front of his garb. He then makes a hissing sound that could very easily be misinterpreted as threatening by somebody not familiar with nagaji.

hssssssss, hssssssss, hssssssss Look who finally decided to take his diaper off Cainbar!!!!! Don't stop till you've drained your mug boy. When you finish that you might just be well on your way to becoming a man.

He then signals one of the servers to bring another round for Vorrs and Reuben

The hissing is in fact hearty laughter.

Sverlissk turns to Vorrs and says in a more serious tone, but still somewhat jovially.

Ah yes maps. I will do more than teach you read them. By the time we are done with this little endeavor, you will know how to make them. We'll be making our own maps of the Stolen Lands.

I guess I should have asked, but based on the blank hex map in the Player's Guide and general knowledge of this campaign, I assumed that map making would be at least a small part of what we are commissioned to do.

when the 2 new drinks arrive Sverlissk happily hands the server a silver piece for the drinks and a few copper for his service.

Reuben gives Sverlisk a hurt look as he does his best to mop his clothes with his handkerchief. "I'm seventeen. In Irrisen they'd already be shopping me around on the marriage market.I'm not a kid anymore. The small square of cloth is clearly insufficient, and soon as he has wet clothes and a soggy hankie.

Giving up he addresses the man he's marked down as 'mysterious stranger number 1'. [b]"I've got a map here" he offers. "Well, up in my room. It's not very good, though I suppose if there were good maps then they wouldn't need us to make them. Did you want to go up and see it?" "very basic maps showing major landmarks" comes as part of his survival kit

"So" he says loudly, with a glint in his eye, waiting until Sverlisk has raised his glass to his lips "Whores!" he nods knowingly "Given how long we'll be out in the wilderness, can I assume you'll be busy tonight, Master Lisstr?"

Sverlissk raises his cup to his lips. His time as a street performer had mad him used to such comments, though it did catch him somewhat by surprise. He flicks his long forked tongue into the air and lets out a slight chuckle and smile at the young lad.

Ahh so the young Garess wishes to make it a game of wits does he?

We shall make sport of this my young friend. We shall each sing 3 verses about the other, and our little party here shall vote on who is the most deserving of the company of a fine young craftswoman tonight. Do you accept my challenge? or shall I be forced to spend my last night in society alone?

Vorrs chuckles at the exchange between Reuben and Essskr and then comments, "Have you seen the size of the cook in the back kitchen? I would venture to guess she could handle both of you! And my pardon, Reuben, you were upstairs when introductions were made. I am Vorrs, a hunter and a tracker. My friend here is Ricean, a warrior, as you can see."

"Bah to the both of ye, ain't a serviceable woman here. Now the women of the mountain, tough as rocks and hair to boot. They could as easily love you or throw you out of the room. slapping Rueben on the back and grimacing again at how frail his shoulders seemed under his hand,"that would make any young lad a man. Remember that night ol' snake tongue? You thought you could woo ol Helga? Ha! That was a night. "

Looking at the maps brought forward and leaning in towards Vorrs, "now see here Vorrs, the trick with my friends maps here is to every day draw an extra tree. I've gotten pretty good o'er the years and watch how dumbfounded he gets when his maps aren't exactly right.". Chuckling he drains another mug of mead and looks longingly at the cup wishing it were stronger. "mind if I ask where you received your training Ricean? Not sure I recognize the crest of your order."

Reuben blushes bright red, mumbles a refusal, and goes quiet.
When Vorrs offers him a change of topic, he seizes on it like a drowning man clutches a rope.
"Very pleased to meet you both, masters Vorrs and Ricean."

Reuben reaches into a satchel and draws a large, heavy, white-leather bound book. Opening it reveals well-thumbed pages with tiny writing and drawings clustered haphazardly on each page. A moment later and a scrivener's kit thumps onto the table, quickly revealing a quill and ransacked for a stick of artist's charcoal.
"I hope you don't mind, I'd like to capture the scene for my book - at least in rough." Without waiting for an answer, Reuben begins to sketch.

The crowd of patrons grows more dense as the hours draw darker. People come, some go, but the traffic is constant. Few patrons pay any mind to others, though there are always the few sitting in a darkened booth, intently scrutinizing on whomever their gaze lands.

A serving wench, tray loaded with used mugs and remnants of meals, passes directly beside your table; dodging another patron, she nudges Cainbar with her rump, blushing and apologizing profusely before she makes for the back rooms.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14

"Perhaps we should make our plans for the morning and then get a good night's rest."

"As my father before me, I am honored to have been accepted into the Order of the Dragon."

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17

Looking at Cainbar's feet "Luck shines on you tonight, my friend"

Ricean waits to see what the dwarf's reaction is.

perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10

Sverlisk grins at Cainbar
aha she's just the way you like them Cainbar. It would be rude not to introduce yourself after such an encounter.

Turning to Vorrs

I believe that it will be a simple matter of meeting down here at dawn for a good breakfast, and then starting our journey into the Stolen Lands. Before I retire though i fear it may be some time before we find ourselves in such diverse company again. Perhaps a song to celebrate the young lad's deeds.

Sverlisk stands up and bursts into song
sing: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11

Reuben was a fine young lad, But the warmth of a woman he never had He spilled his mead, and soaked his tweed
now this song is here for all to jeer
we all join together to commemorate the fact that the mead didn't make him urinate. And that's called being a MAN!

perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16
Reuben's blush deepened during Sverlisk's song, the flush clearly evident in pale skin that barely saw the sun. After a single hurt look at Sverlisk, Reuben studiously avoided anyone's eyes.

perception: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (16) - 1 = 15
"Ha ha, I dunno old friend." Turning to follow the serving wench and gain a fine view of the backside he became acquainted with." Still looks to be on the frail side. If she can't throw me o'er her head, she can't be doing all the things to me likin. I agree Rican! Lucky I be! A finer group, " Pausing to look at each of the party in turn, and pausing a bit at Reuben to stare into his eyes with as serious a tone as he can muster "A dwarf could not be askin for. Torag shall bless us and our journey. A mighty avatar of Torag he'self with his trusty paige of course, a master of arms from the order of the dragon, who I've heard many a tale of we should speak more on this matter, a well spoken for tracker, and well my snake friend here. A master of... well sort of good at, hmmm he can slither a song I guess. Aye an adventuring party we be."

Pausing for a moment while leaning back from his excited outburst, scratching his beard. "Do any of you, maybe Vorrs since you've been in the area, know where we be to a'headin? Or do we just wander south?"

"To the south are some good hunting grounds. But, if we are seeking the Greenbelt, these maps indicate we must travel west on the road for awhile before we turn south. I suspect we will want to get an early start in the morning, yes? If so, it is time for Ricean and I to secure a room and get some rest. See you all in the morning."

The road from The Tavern is easy; as the primary route from Rostland to the Stolen Lands, the passage is fairly maintained (though, knowing the politics as you do, it seems just as likely those who use the road maintain it themselves), and the party reaches Oleg's with little incident shortly before noon.

A thirty-foot-wide gate stands open, allowing the party entrance through the wooden palisade. Those with an eye for security are quick to notice the four guard towers that stand in each corner, topped with ramshackle ballista; the state of disrepair of the siege weapons is obvious even at a distance.

Maneuvering the cart into an open square, a handsome woman rushes to greet the party; a burly, stout man, sweaty from the heat of the day, slowly climbs off the roof of an open shed, tossing a hammer and some planks down before him.

The woman smiles, welcoming the newcomers with open arms, "Thank Desna you've made it. Welcome to Oleg's! I'm Svetlana, and this filthy animal-" she says, gesturing towards the man, "-is my husband, Oleg. Please, let my husband tend to your animals; I've prepared a meal for you. Come, inside, let us eat, and we can discuss your plans for the bandits."

Oleg grimaces as his wife ushers the party into their home, "Fine lot they sent us..." He grumbles as he unharnesses the ox cart, muttering to himself, "Damn woman. 'Let my husband tend to your animals,' she says. Fah! Filthy, muck-laden beast...and the horses aren't much better!"

"I heard that!" Svetlana turns towards her husband as she holds open the door for the group, "Clean yourself up when you're done, and come in and eat, before I show you what a 'beast' I can be!" She leads the party to her dining room, where a hearty stew sits bubbling in a pot, with warm bread and butter at the table beside a few fresh bottles of wine.

At the mention of bandits, Vorrs freezes for a moment and becomes very quiet and solemn. He leads his horse toward the stable, willing to take care of it himself, if Oleg doesn't offer to do so.

Sverlisk gracefully bows to both Svetlana and Oleg
Lady Svetlana, Lord Oleg, It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. We are honored by your hospitality. I am known as Esskr, the dwarf is Cainbar, and your 3 kinfolk here are Vorrs, Ricean, and the wee lad is Reuben

We had heard of bandit troubles in this area. Please tell us more about these bandits you speak of. We must make sure we have as much information as possible before we go making half baked plans. What is it that they are after, how often do you encounter them, where, and how many of them are there.

Sverlisk retrieves his ink, inkpen, and a piece of parchment to take notes on while he inquires about the bandits.

Reuben grinds his teeth and does his best to assume the role Sverlisk has forced on him. Following the lead of his 'teacher' he takes out his sketch book and scrivener's kit and starts sharpening another quill in case Sverlisk should need it. He also retrieves his simple map in case it becomes necessary to mark positions.
"Ready Master Esskr." he confirms.

Vorrs nods towards our hosts and sits near Reuben so I can see the map.

Ricean bows to Svetlana and Oleg and smiles at Reuben's irritation.

When was the last bandit attack?

Stretching after the long trek, Cainbar nods in greeting as Sverlisk introduces himself, although without as much flair as he is used to.

Looking questioningly at his friend, Wonder if this incognito has gotten to him, that was about 15 minutes shorter than usual introductions Waiting long enough for Sverlisk to catch his eye and notice the look, Cainbar follows Svetlana.

"Never one to turn down food from a gracious host." Heaving himself in his armor onto the bench near the table. Unhooking his Dorn Dergar from its resting place on his back he places that next to him as well. "Echoing my friends here, " Pointing at Reuben and Sverlisk, "While sent here to chart these lands and deal with banditry in general, me thinks there be more veins to this mountain of a tale. While we have struck upon the surface it seems you have experienced the true minerals and all the problems that go with it."

Pausing to see people are paying attention to him, Cainbar bursts into laughter. "Bwahahah, see what I di' there ol' snakey. Used flowery words and everything." Nudging Vorrs, "This whole tale spinner thing ain't so hard if you just use random nouns instead o' the normal ones." Realizing that this is probabaly a bit more serious of a matter, "I'm sorry, Svetlana did you say? Please go on. Although it seems you are waiting on people, and we were not directly sent to help you. Be it known though, if it be in our power to help, I Cainbar Stonehammer do pledge my services." Saying the last bit as he sits straighter. "First, can we have that delicious smelling food as we discuss this matter? The road is long, and the belly empty."

"It's very exciting, isn't it." whispers Reuben to Sverlisk while Cainbar is talking.

Oleg trudges in solemnly, slightly less grungy than a few minutes ago, and takes a seat at the head of the table. Svetlana dishes out ample bowls of stew for their guests, giving a slightly-less-generous portion to her husband, before taking a seat beside him.

"Oleg, darling, these fine gentlemen don't seem to know about the bandits."

Oleg snorts through his spoonful of stew, grimacing as he swallows, "Don't know about the bandits? I'm not surprised...it only figures they'd just send whatever scraggly lot stumbled upon their steps first..."

Taking a hunk of bread, Oleg nods at his wife, and she continues, "We received word that an exploration company was en route to the Stolen Lands. They...led us to believe you would also help us with our bandit problem."

She rises, and paces about the small room, "You see, three months ago, a large group of the brigands came here, demanding all of our wares. They...threatened things best not spoke of, and promised to burn our home to the ground if we did not meet their demands. Oleg nearly lost his hand trying to stand up to them...trying to protect me..."

Svetlana goes distant for a moment, and Oleg looks up from his soup with worry, "They come at sunrise on the first day of the month; they're due for the fourth visit tomorrow morning."

Svetlana rounds the table, looking pleadingly at the party, "My husband might never ask, but would you be willing to help us?"

"About how many bandits would you estimate? And did you happen to notice if they wore armor? What weapons did they carry?" Vorrs stops as he realizes he blurted out three questions all at once. His face is grim and the thought of shooting a few bandits in revenge burns in his veins.

Sverlisk nods solemnly contemplating the situation, then a smile starts to creep onto his face. It sounds like this lot are nothing more than common thugs that have deigned to banditry at your expense. But fret not my fair and gentle Svetlana, for I believe I have devised a most satisfactory solution to your problem that shall promulgate the demise of these rapscallions.

Sverlisk smiles at Cainbar and Reuben as he returns to his former ways as a renowned wordsmith.

Tell me Oleg just how much alcohol do you keep on hand here? For I plan on getting hissing drunk with the bandits tomorrow. I shall entice their leader and hopefully a few of them into drink. Passing as a travelling merchant hoping to stave off any assessment from these knaves. Once I have thoroughly inveigled the brigand principle, I will set my self to the task of getting him suitably inebriated to the point of being off his face. I shall at this point signal my compatriots to come out of hiding, bar the gates to prevent any escape, and then we shall have ourselves some good ole fashioned justice. I pledge to you good stalwart Oleg that you shall have new adornments for your walls tomorrow. I only humbly beseech thee to allow me and my friends one prisoner for whom we may interrogate to gain more information on the bandit activity in the area.

Sverlisk then flicks his tail as though to "spin" it as he winks at Cainbar in a smug sort of way.

Sverlisk then looks around the table Is this plan agreeable to all?

If he gets the approval he seeks, Sverlisk will raise his mug and say
It is settled tomorrow I shall get snockered with these scum. To the end of banditry in the Greenbelt!

We shall spit them on the end of my lance! You keep them occupied with ale and we shall fall on them in their drunken haze.

Ricean prefers to fight mounted, but, if necessary can fight afoot.

I can remain hidden until your signal and then fire upon them with my bow. Vorrs looks about to determine a good location to shoot from.

Vorrs has precise shot, so he can shoot into Melee.

"If you think it'll work, out of the tricks we've pulled in the past, I would've gone with the spring a dwarf. However, I will hide behind the stables here and come out when the signal is given. We should get a good night's sleep. Evil shall rue the day they crossed ol Torag's servant."

With that Cainbar will retire to the quarters and snore the night away to be able to get up early in the morning to prepare.

The signal shall be when I start singing "A horse is a horse"

With things settled Sverlisk will spend the rest of the day working on pretending to be drunk and seeming like a jovial merchant.

Oleg make sure that whatever you bring me is watered down. We want to get the bandits drunk and easy to kill, not me.

"That's terrible" Reuben sympathises, then tries to offer helpfully "Uh... I could try to fix those siege engines. What happened to them."

Oleg shoves back from the table, spouting curses at the party as he leaves; you can hear his profanities even over the slamming of the front door.

"That...is a most interesting plan, despite my husband's typical reaction. These two bottles of wine are nearly all of our spirits, however; our business is mostly trappers or the odd wandering adventurer, and I'm afraid that doesn't lend well to stocking alcohol."

"As far as the bandits...the first time they came, they numbered in the dozens. There were two of note; a rather dull, cloaked man, and a..." Svetlana pauses as she grows distant, and shivers visibly, "A terrifying woman with two hatchets. She was clearly their leader, though only the man has returned since. At last visit, there were six others with him. Armor, you asked? They were lightly carried, and many had clothing on atop whatever they wore, so it must have been light."

Holding up a finger and asking for pause, she leaves the kitchen, returning shortly with her own charter, passing it to Reuben.

"As you can see, my husband and I received this land on a grant. Originally, this was a border fort, but the years of disuse brought it nearly to ruin. The ballista have not been operating since we took over; Oleg sliced deeply into his thigh trying to restring one, and they have sat ever since. We were chartered to convert this into a trade post, not a fortress."

sense motive: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 1 = 18
"Ah - this must be one of the reports of an increase in bandit activity that led to the decision to send in explorers. Presumably these bandits are part of some larger force." he nods to himself, and strokes his wispy chin in a gesture identical to his half-brother's.
"It need not be good wine of course. Master Esskr is seeking to subtly poison these swine. It is important that we succeed at this. Should we attack and not catch them all, we can rest assured that the entire force will descend on this trading post and kill all herein. This is, literally, do or die. Saving for the future would be a false economy at best."
diplomacy with student of philosophy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23
"I'm more than happy to see if I can restring the siege engines. In which case, I'll need light, so the sooner the better."

sense motive: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (14) - 1 = 13
"I assure you my good lady, that we have handled similar situations before. Ol' Snakey here once convinced a particularly stubborn gnome that if he didn't shave his beard off, he'd become a dwarf. A little drunkeness goes a long way! If it be a matter of coin, I will gladly pay it forward in the hopes we might recoup some losses at a later date with you. If that be not acceptable, name me a fair price, and I'll pay you now."

diplomacy: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12Don't know if you want stand alone or aid another on these things. Also do you want us to pre roll diplomacy/bluff checks and role play on how the dice rolled? Or role play away and the roll afterwards? For this one, I figured I would play to the dice, but can always change.

Cainbar fishes around and realizes he has about 7gp which should be enough to pay for the alcohol if need be.

And here are a few silver pieces to cover the cost of your drink. Now, we had better take a look at the layout of this fort and choose our locations.

sense motive: 1d20 ⇒ 19

Come now surely you have more than what you let on. I know that it may very well pain you to serve these thieves, but just remember that with every drink they journey closer to their own demise. As far as where we hide, I would prefer Svetlana stay herself from harms way. we also may need a couple people to hide in a position where they an close the gates lest the bandits attempt an escape.

I will take position up on the wall, near the gate, just below the stable (A3). Should be some good shooting angles from up their. Just try to keep the bandits out in the courtyard.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9
if neededDiplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26

You will definitely be reimbursed for the costs of anything that these whoresons consume. But if that is all you have, we can most likely work around it.

If there is room for me to be mounted behind a building, I will. Otherwise, I will close the gate behind them.

"Er... well, I suppose if I can repair it, I'll be with a siege engine. If I cannot then perhaps I could fire a crossbow from a roof, or with Master Vorrs?" The inexperienced young man looks around at the others for support.

Perhaps the little one should stay out of sight with Svetlana....no no Yolann always said his dear brother was too soft to have any meaningful position. It's time to toughen the boy up.

Reuben you will be In charge of shutting the gate. Perhaps you can put that brain of yours to good use and devise a method of closing the gait in an expeditious fashion when the time is appointed. After that, we will be needing you to provide fire support with Master Vorrs.

yes that will do, break the young lad into this whole danger thing.

Come with me Reuben. Let's look at that gate and find a good place on the wall where we can be out of sight, but with a good view.

Svetlana nods at their offers, and following the company outside, she shouts at her husband, who had resumed his roof repairs. "Oleg, dear! Go to the stores and bring out your mead barrel. If these men deign to help us, we must allow them, whatever their plan."

Cursing more, Oleg clambers down the ladder, once again tossing his tools before him.