|
Marek shakes his head at Domitian. "Unless you've got a spell to replace hair I'm not interested. I'm a good enough smith to avoid losing any fingers..."
As Droo mentions Lady Lebeda, a shadow falls across his face, but it disappears as quickly as it came and he smiles at the mention of Lander. "Please, follow me upstairs into my office and we can discuss this matter more privately."
He leads you into a small personal office with a window to the outside. A stuffed eagle clutching a pair of tongs perches above the door to the staircase, and a cage holding pigeons hangs just outside the window. "May I offer you a drink? Milk, or perhaps a brandy?"
He walks towards a small cabinet to fetch himself a drink, along with any of you who wish to partake, and continues. "Lander isn't here at the moment. I last saw him two days ago. He was headed out of town on the southwestern road. Over the past month or so, he’s been trying to put his training to good use—slaying monstrous vermin in the outskirts of town, that sort of thing. With the recent attacks by bandits, Lander was convinced that he could stop them himself and live up to Baron Aldori’s legacy.”
|
"An admirable goal, valorous, though perhaps foolishly brave, to endeavor such a task alone. Did he at least recruit some skilled companions to aid him, or did he truly go totally alone? Perhaps we should try to render him some aid, and make sure he hasn't come to any harm? Oh, and thanks for the drink offer, but I'll pass... Southwest road, you say?"
|
As Droo mentions Lady Lebeda, a shadow falls across his face, but it disappears as quickly as it came and he smiles at the mention of Lander. "Please, follow me upstairs into my office and we can discuss this matter more privately."
He leads you into a small personal office with a window to the outside. A stuffed eagle clutching a pair of tongs perches above the door to the staircase, and a cage holding pigeons hangs just outside the window. "May I offer you a drink? Milk, or perhaps a brandy?"
"Don't mind if I do. What's brandy?"
He walks towards a small cabinet to fetch himself a drink, along with any of you who wish to partake, and continues. "Lander isn't here at the moment. I last saw him two days ago. He was headed out of town on the southwestern road. Over the past month or so, he’s been trying to put his training to good use—slaying monstrous vermin in the outskirts of town, that sort of thing. With the recent attacks by bandits, Lander was convinced that he could stop them himself and live up to Baron Aldori’s legacy.”
"Ah heady days! Cleaning the rats and kobolds out of the basement of a mentor's tavern. That takes me back all the way to last Toilsday." She says with an air of fond reminiscence. She downs her drink in one gulp, belches out the first sixth of the Gnomish alphabet, and then wipes her face with the back of her sleeve. "So you suppose that he might have taken it upon himself to hunt larger prey, with less legs, and more knives? I know that's what I'm do-would do were I-. What do they call male humans that age? Man-boy, young man, adolescent, pupal-stage? He's not a gelding is he? I hear that's a calming way to live your life. Not at all my taste mind you, but still.... Hey, can I try some of that milk stuff too?"
|
|
"Don't mind if I do. What's brandy?"
"It's... erm... alcohol. I guess. I'm more of a whiskey guy myself but Lander left some here and I don't usually have alcohol at my forge."
"Did he at least recruit some skilled companions to aid him, or did he truly go totally alone?"
“Regrettably, he went out on his own. I was just his tutor for sword-fighting, at first. He needed a teacher, and I’m the best around. He would come in to ask me about the Aldori style and watch me make swords—I had to shoo him away to keep him from getting too close to the forge. Over the past couple of months, though, we’ve gotten pretty close. He’s a good kid. A little scatterbrained, maybe, but his heart’s in the right place. I see him sort of like the son I never had.”
He mulls over this a bit, and continues.
"Although Lander has improved quite a bit in the months I’ve been teaching him, he is still likely no match for any bandits. Though it’s unlikely he’d even find them—he doesn’t have much of a head on his shoulders for the wilderness, and is far more likely lost somewhere. If he’s lucky, he’s lost out in the countryside somewhere, playing the hero. If he’s unlucky, he’s encountered some of the nastier critters that live in the back country. I’m worried for his safety."
|
|
Marek scrapes a few scraps of some old vegetables from yesterday's lunch and puts them down for Eniac. "It certainly puts me at ease to know that you'll be looking out for him. I do worry for his safety... If you follow the southwest road out of Silverhall you should be able to find his route. I don't think he knows the definition of discretion..."
|
|
Rusa gestures towards Meiri. "Marek, you didn't answer my friend's question about the bandits. What do you know about this gang? We'd hate for the Dame to get more involved in your life."
"What in the Nine Hells was that, Rusa? What were you doing? Next time, leave all the speaking parts to me, and you just hang back (and down wind) and let me do the talking. I almost got to try whatever whiskey is-hic. Someone get that homeless snail out of my way so I can stomp off dramatically!" Says the scary little gnome, putting on her full helm and mounting up.
*Bark!*
|
|
A little shaken up from your abrupt exit from the smithy, you find it difficult to get back into the right state of mind to track down your preyrunaway. However... once you get close to the southwestern road, Jack notices a rather nice looking handkerchief tied to a signpost... too nice of one for most people to forget about. Upon further inspection the you notice that it bears the crest of House Lebeda—a white swan on a blue background with a rising sun in the background.
Vinegar obediently complies.
"Woof, woof!"
|
|
With a quick sniff of the handkerchief, Vinegar takes off down the road. It is nearly a full day's walk, but the route is clear, and Vinegar's scent makes it fairly certain that Lander travelled this route. Eventually he stops and begins to veer from the trail. About 2 miles off of the trail you see signs of recent travel. The deer trail winds past a large pond fed by a spring. Reeds and sedges grow around the pond, and piping birds are audible over the gurgling of running water. The pond drains from a stream flowing southwards. A section of grasses has been cleared away near the north edge of the pond, revealing a small fire pit caked with ashes.
|
|
Perception/Initiative (+2 Perception for survival)
Stealth/Initiative
Order:
Wicent (Blue)
Brigand Red
Droo
Jack
Brigand Green
Meiri
Angrboda
Domitan
Rusa
By Angrboda's assessment, the fire pit was extinguished... minutes ago? Wait a second... IT'S A TRAP! Meiri and Rusa both notice a rustling in the reeds and Angrboda very quickly puts together the meaning of the tracks and encampent, but the camp's occupants are much quicker on the draw and manage to loose a volley of arrows before you're even able to draw blades.
Surprise Round (Single action only)
Wicent (Blue)
Brigand 1 (Red)
Brigand 2 (Green)
Meiri
Angrboda
Rusa
|
|
The surface of the water ripples, and with a sudden wave Wicent finds his feet swept out from underneath him. Eniac, being a little slow on the uptake, skips a blob of acid across the surface of the pond.
Surprise Round (Single action only)
Wicent (Blue, Prone in water)
Brigand 1 (Red)
Brigand 2 (Green)
Meiri
Angrboda (-14)
Rusa (-2)
|
|
The apparent leader of the crew clambers back onto his feet, spits water, and then tries to take another shot at the druid.
He barks out some orders to his lackeys who grudgingly obey. "Move forward! They look like they've got plenty of coin between the six of em!"
The quicker of the two bandits fires off another shot and then slowly trudges forward through the water.
Surprise Round:
Rusa (1 action)
Round 1:
Wicent (Blue, Stand and shoot)
Brigand (Red, Shoot and move)
Droo
Jack
Brigand Green
Meiri
Angrboda (-14)
Domitan
Rusa (-2)
"GRRR!" Vinegar snarls as he leaps the stream!