Natasha stands up, slowly walking towards the freshly healed man.
"Wake up sunshine, stag season is over."
She kneels besides him, a thin smile on her lips.
"Your friend here told us some interesting things, but I'm sure you have a lot more to say."
The man offers Natasha a cool look but doesn't move. The boy's an idiot. He offers an unconcerned shrug and continues to sit in place.
Duška eyes the older bandits (re)actions to the situation with silent scrutiny;
Harder edge this one. Will be difficult to break, if indeed he can be... Sharper words will be needed...
The ranger keeps an impassive tone as she adds to Natasha's words with her own;
"Idiot or no, he has shown to be smart enough not to dance the hangman's jig yes? What of you smart one? Tired of living and ready to die is that it?"
:
The older man scratches at his weathered kneck and days old beard while he eyes the ranger with an almost bored expression, Almost dies twice. Stag lord's fellas shot down the last patrol that meant to string me up. Figure I've been livin on borrowed time anyhow. 'sides, no use in livin if the Lord turns this place to a charnel house. I'd rather risk the jig than die at the hands of the Stag Lord, not that he'd let anyone just "die"...
Ra'hl listens in to the older bandits words, keeping his eye on the younger bandit. He remains quiet letting the others continue their discussion.
"Well, what will you do now? That one seems "unrepentant".
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"Oh you don't have to worry about that. We will bring him to the blade and see justice served." Natasha stands up with these words, calling her tcompanions to her side some distance away.
"So how do we proceed? This man seems unfazed by the prospect of death. He might still have useful intel, but I fear he would not give it lightly. Has seen too much for fear to be enough to loosen his tongue." She doesn't seem happy to utter these words.
Aleria sighs and looks at the older man. She couldn't quite peg it, but something about what he said just didn't seem very..., forthcoming. Enough of the games, the time to send a message is now.
She stands to her feet, limbering her bow and knocks an arrow, looking at the older man. "Here is how it will be. One of Deadeye's greatest precepts is Never to suffer a fool. And you are being quite foolish sir. So the choice is simple. Life or Death. If you choose life, you will either remain here in service to Kesten and Osk, or else you will be allowed to take whatever you can carry and make your way back to Brevoy. If you choose not to do those things, then you have made yourself an enemy of the good people of the Greenbelt, and the bordering nation of Brevoy. Brevoy would hang you or part you from your head where you sit now for making such a choice."
She sighs and takes a breath as she considers him a moment. "If you should choose not to accept the clemency offered you, you will run, without arms, back to the Stag Lord. You will carry him a message. You will tell him that the free peoples of the Greenbelt will not suffer him another day, and that he lives at our leisure. You will tell him that if there is any part of him that is still man, he will come and fall on his knees before the men and women and children of those who's lives and livelihoods he has stolen, and beg for any measure of their forgiveness. And if not, we will hunt him down, end his tyranny of oppression against these people, and display his head for all to see that his reign of terror is at an end. And you will also tell any who stand with the Stag Lord that they will suffer the same fate as him. Do we understand one another?"
Aleria gazes into the man's eyes with lethal intent, drawing back her bow, aiming it for him. "Pray to whom you revere, and make your choice sir. But let it be said, that the Greenbelt will suffer fools no longer."
The bandit throws his arms up, All right you got me. I'll take what I can carry and make my way back to more civilized lands. I'm frightfully sorry for my thieving ways.
Aleria frowns at him, eyes flashing as she lowers her aim from his chest to around his lower body and looses her arrow, immediately drawing another from her quiver and readying a second shot.
The arrow lands perfectly placed in the table beneath the mans nethers. As the arrow rattles from the force of its launch the bandit looks down and then back at the cleric. He simply shrugs at the woman, You said I could go if I said I wasn't going back. Whats all this then?
The younger bandit on the other hand seems to lose it a little bit and comes to his feet, By the gods Jarek don't you get it? Its time to step away from this. It was wrong and you know it!
"Jarek" offers the young man a withering look and shrugs again.
Osk for his part takes note of the proceedings and gestures to Kasten to go on with what they were doing and the warden approaches slowly and deliberately, seemingly content to merely watch...
As the arrow is loosed, Ra'hl flies to his feat, roaring out, His eyes are resolved and burning.
"I will not be oblige torture, and make no mistake that is what you're doing. Justify it how you want, but this is not justice. He was offered the chance to repent, he denied it. I'll not see him let go to be rearmed by our enemy and give our numbers and defenses to his lord. The boy may yet can live, but this one has chosen his fate. I'll not spill blood in Lady Svetlana's home. Cuddles, help him outside." Ra'hl draws his hand to his bastard sword gripping the hilt as the blade rests in his sheath. Eyes scanning the crowd looking for, expecting, the objections.
As the veteran bandit weighs the mans previous words that tinged with very real fear of this "Stag Lord" , matters accelerate as Aleria's ultimatum is met with a nonchalant repentance;
Ayi! He pokes a hornets nest with his words!
As Ra'hl bellows his objections, the fey touched ranger hisses at the bandit, coming in at him fast - rapier poised toward the man's stubble flecked throat;
"Fool! Listen to her words... and his! Listen yes? Or hear no more... Now is that choice!"
:
Mattrim' with eyes sharp, begins to move towards the man raising his fist, before he can take 2 steps though, Duska was on him. Stopping, surprised, his lowers his fist and continues watching.
What in the blazes.
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As Ra'hl explodes in anger the camp erupts in chaos.
Osk steps forward adding his own voice to the din, Now hold on a minute just what is going on here? I thought you lot had this under control...
Mattrim moves himself towards the bandit but finds himself cut off by a hissing Duska.
Jarek's eyes turn wide at the sudden presence of Duska and he practically sputters the words as she is upon him, Ved'ma! What do you want from me? To know his power? To know his secrets? He is strong. He kills. He is the scythe, we are the wheat. I know you girl though you would probably not remember. Young as you were. Enchanted with the life as you were. I was nameless. Faceless. We were all fools then and you are all fools now. There is no fairy tale here. No gentlemen bandits to be had here
The man's voice rises but the word's keep coming, he nods a head towards Natasha and he continues, She knows too. The death. Some bandit king. More like bandit monster. He kills. He broods and more men and women flock to him every day. Killers. Rapists. Monsters. Weak. Desperate. Young. Life by the sword is better than dying by the noose. Others have come and they all ended up on the pile. They all fed the hill and you will too. So what do you want from me? To feel sorry? I ain't. To leave? I was trying! But I'll not stay to die here by your hand or his. I'm a man who did what he had to do just like the rest of you. Hide behind your noble titles and fancy words but you are here, like him, to bring the sword. I'd just as soon leave thank you. Or kill me and be done with it.
Cuddles turns from his post when his name is called and walks over. His good mood from the work out is quickly ruined when the small people start arguing with big words again.
He liked this bandit though. He used better words, and Cuddles understands him. As the rest are posturing, hissing, and talking above everyone else's head, Cuddles pushes through grabs the man by the arms, and lifts him up to Cuddles own eye level which rests well above the seven foot mark. He stares at the man, his bacon and wood scented breath making it hard to breathe. Time to cut through the crap.
YOUR FRIEND NOT DEER KING? he asks.
Aleria sighs and looks over at the orc. Cuddles, please put him down."
Aleria, finally having lost her patience, starts shaking. This fear, this sense that we will lose to the tide of evil that this false stag represents is too much. Everyone seems to be lusting for blood, and no one seems to one to admit the one thing that has been lost in all of this. No more..., I will not suffer this one more minute...
Aleria with trembling hands draws back her arrow, offering a soft, trembling prayer. "Deadeye, steady my hand, and may my aim be true this day."
She draws back, and turns, her bow aimed at the crossbeam above the gate entrance to the trading post nearby where they are having the argument. She looses, and the arrow flies true, landing in the crossbeam. When it does, a thunderous peal of sound like a bolt of lightning striking the trading post, follows with the flash of light in the shape of a stylized elk horn bow.
She waits for a moment then shouts, though her voice trembles as she does so. "ENOUGH! ALL OF YOU!"
She trembles in place for a moment before going on. "Do you all thirst for blood so much, that you cannot hear his despair? The Stag Lord is winning, because they have lost hope. Are we so much like they are, that you would wish his blood? Cuddles, you put him down right now."
She walks over to the man, kneeling down to retrieve her arrow, her bow slung on her back. "If you mean what you say, if you wish to be away from all this, then go. Both of you, head for Brevoy. I will give you my horse, and will buy you both some food from Oleg so that you can be on your way in peace. Don't stay one more day in this place, for I fear the tide of blood required to free the Greenbelt will wash everything in red."
The situation escalated quickly. Natasha expected this to get ugly, but what she did not expect was to have her failure rubbed into the face by one of these filthy bandits. Rage was building in her once again when she heard Jarek's words - but she also heard despair and weariness.
She moved fast when Cuddles's iron grip came down on the man suddenly in all the confusion.
"Right to the core of the matter, Cuddles." she says dryly with a thin smile on her lips, but anger still in her eyes. She raises one clawed hand to signal Ra'hl and Duska to stop, then looks into Ra'hls eyes with a burning intesity that might well rival his own.
"Jarek, I harbor deep hate toward this man. He felled two of my friends while I could do naught but watch. I survived by a mere miracle that night as a blade hit my back, just to awake bathed in blood and lying on their still warm corpses in some cursed basement."
She draws her sword, slowly.
"You saw his might and his madness, you understand he is nothing but a plague for this forest. I am here in the name of law and foreign nobility, but it will not be in that name that the stag lord's blood will be spilled.
It will be in the name of all who want peace that he shall fall."
She thrusts her sword in the ground, right besides Aleria'a arrow.
"You are weary of this life and even see death as a way to end wasting away in his name. You said you prefered life by the sword, so why not draw it to bring justice?" Her gaze has shifted, retaining the intensity, but replacing anger with passion.
She regards Jarek for a moment, then continues.
"Join us to end his reign."
Everyone always commanding. Always knowing best. Cuddles does as he is told and places the bandit on his feet (the older one). He looks at them all, especially Aleria and Rahl, with something between confusion and weary resignation, then retreats to the other side of the encampment. There he retrieves an ax and a wagon (a full sized one) and heads out to chop wood for the winter stockpile.
Add he leaves, he gets Anton's attention and offers the wizard the chance to ride along via a grunt, a smile, and a finger pointing up at the seat. He knows Anton can't chop wood to save his life, but a little company from an old friend would be nice.
With fierce resolution Ra'hl will eye each of his companions, lingering on Natasha and Aleria. He speaks in a firm voice, but does not raise it. "Unless you intend to use them, put the weapons down. If you want the man free, talk. Use your words. If you want him to answer for his crimes, then so be it, and I will carry out his sentence."
Saber jumps up the sudden thunderclap, the water from the sky had not been coming as far as he could tell. Curious the large cat leaves the stables and starts looking for Two-Legged-Pack-Brother.
Following Mattrim's scent, Saber heads towards the main lodge.
Jarek simply utters This is madness. and is otherwise quiet as the voices rise and tempers swirl. The other bandit doesn't seem to have any sense of what to do and simply sits...
Mattrim, having no idea what to expect, jumps at the large thunderclap and looks at Aleria in surprise, rubbing his ears in annoyance.
"Was that really necessary? Why are we just offering them clemency? Can we really trust the words of some bandits?
Whether or not they were leaving the Stag Lord doesn't change the fact that they tried to steal a horse in the process. What's next, raiding and pillaging some small family?"
The mounting tensions and confusions were growing unbearable. There was an awful lot of anger and posturing, Anton realized; what was the point of it all? Kill him, or let him go, but by the gods, get on with it! he wills them wearily, rubbing his temples as he begins shuffling his scrolls together. Perhaps things would be more quiet indoors.
No sooner has he finished arranging everything in a semi-neat pile than he hears Cuddles approaching. With a sigh, he resigns himself to several agonizing minutes of being stared at, or worse - Cuddles trying to help with his latest project.
Though he winces at the sight of the axe and cart, the very thought of attempting to chop wood bringing up memories of embarrassment and gravely-wounded pride, he offers a thin, weary smile and a nod. "Alright, then. Let's get away from all this ruckus for a while," he agrees, clapping Cuddles once on the back before taking a book from the pile - just one, the old battered spellbook with the dog-eared pages and the tea-stained flyleaves - and climbing into the wagon. "Just like old times, mmm?"
As flared tempers fade and the crowd thins a little, Duška maintains her wide eyed shock as she searches the man's face for a past familiarity.
The ranger's rapier hangs loosely in her hand as the chaos swirls around her. All the while focusing on the older bandit;
Ved'ma. Witch...
He knows me. Ayi Maminka! He knows me.
Duška's jaw sets, but her eyes remain wide and intense.
I know him too. Djevelens pust! I know them all...
Forlorn she looks to the others;
"To dream of escape from that life is but hope yes? A whisp of smoke yes? To run and run until you know no one and no one knows you. A fool's paradise yes?"
"Until now. Let them run. Let them find that place.. that peace. There is no peace in a shallow grave. Or with those that dig them..."
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Cuddles has the skinny mage outside to the wood pile. Several chords of wood are already split and stacked there, but the winter stock isn't complete. He takes the ax, which seems small in his hands, and starts splitting on a large, low stump left over from the original construction.
After a few swings, Cuddles asks, WHY NEW PEOPLE DO BOSSY... HARSK NOT BOSSY.
He suspected they were establishing who was alpha, much like wolves, but he wanted Anton's opinion. He was the smart one, after all.
Osk looks at the group as there seems to be a pause, he seems to search for words then simply shakes his head and turns to go, Let me know if you need any thing from me. The warrior goes back to his other tasks...
Arriving, Saber does his best to gain entrance way into the lodging. He starts clawing at the front door .
He starts smelling some families scents from earlier and starts a low growl, the hair on his back standing on end as he progresses forward.
Arriving, Saber does his best to gain entrance way into the lodging. He starts clawing at the front door .
He starts smelling some families scents from earlier and starts a low growl, the hair on his back standing on end as he progresses forward.
Saber proceeds to move into the front of the lodge, looking at the scene before him, he recognizes the two bandits from before but see's Two-Legged-Pack-Brother and moves to his side. Nudging his hand.
Mattrim, noticing Saber, looks back up at the bandits, then back down at Saber.
"Regardless, do what you will with them. But I will have no part in setting them loose back on the land again."
With that he walks out of the building, with Saber in tow, to go and look for Cuddles and Anton.
Mattrim finds cuddles and Anton just as the orc is posing his question to the wizard. Large loss that very recently experienced Rapid Unplanned Structural Failure lay around a huge, low stump that bears the marks of thousands of ax cuts.
"Sir Osk, we could use your aid. May I request you watch the prisoners so that we may have a discussion in private?" Ra'hl asks, signalling for Aleria, Natasha, and anyone else who remains to follow him inside where they may speak privately. He is also hoping it give the bandit some time to think over his choice.
Osk nods at the bloodrager and motions to one of Kasten's men to take up a watchful position while the rest of the group moves to speak to each other...
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"I have theories," Anton shrugs, finding a semi-comfortable place to sit. "Have you ever seen hens in a yard? There's one that will peck at all the others to establish dominance. Then one will peck at all others, except the first. The process continues, and finally, there's one weakling who gets pecked by everyone, and doesn't get to peck anyone. That's my theory - they're establishing the pecking order, each attempting to display themselves as the biggest hen." And I'll be at the bottom, he reminds himself. It helped to be realistic.
"You're right, Cuddles. Harsk wasn't bossy, and neither was Katya. Things were simpler then, weren't they? We were in agreement on much more; there was none of this posturing and aggrandizing. They were good companions." He bites off his words before he can continue, glancing at the spellbook in his lap and remembering the way he'd once gone over it with someone else, eagerly explaining the theories behind every spell, down to the simplest cantrip.
In retrospect, he'd probably bored her.
For a while, he's content to simply sit, making small talk, attempting to phrase things in ways Cuddles will understand. When Mattrim approaches, he sighs inwardly. "Watching this isn't as interesting as you might think," he calls, gesturing to the remains of what could have one day been mighty trees.
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Cuddles has to think on this analogy a moment, but he had seen this happen so the comparison helps. He waves to the kitty (then to the man) as they approach.
ORC WAY EASIER. TRIAL OF STRENGTH. IF WIN, YOUR FIRE IS BEST AND HOTTEST. SIMPLE WAY. BEST WAY. WAY OF THE GODS.
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Natasha pulls out her sword from the ground and sheates it again, giving Jarek a questioning look before she turns away.
She moves towards Ra'hl, patting Duska slightly on the back on her way, and halts before him with arms crossed.
"Yes it is a good idea to take a moment to cool down. It is not wise to show such differences before these men.
But I stand by my word - I have seen his eyes when he talked. This Jarek has no love for the Stag Lord, and should he be persuaded to join our cause, he might be a valuable asset, in both knowledge and manpower."
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"That does sound simpler," Anton sighs, staring at a page and tracing a sigil with one bony fingertip. "I don't imagine that leaves much room for people like me in orc culture, mmm?"
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Cuddles shakes his head, but not for the expected reason. TEST MIND STRENGTH. YOU NOT CHIEF. YOU SHAHMAN. YOU MAGIC-MAN. YOU HAVE PLACE.
Mattrim doesn't look to be in the smiling mood, but he attempts to put a smile on his face, looking more like a lopsided grimace.
"Boring is not always bad. I prefer boring to be honest, it makes it easier to reflect on things. In there Mattim points back the lodge that place is Chaos, to much arguing to think, I even found myself getting drawn into it.
I have no interest in any pecking order, nature does not have a "pecking order". Things exist intertwined, if a bear dies, then the fish and the insects it feeds on go rampant.Then other predators of fish become more populated and the prey of the insects grow as well. The balance of the whole system goes out of whack and everything ends up suffering."
Mattrim studies the stump for a moment considering. "I would agree, at least, that it sounds like things among the Orc tribes are simpler. If nothing else."
Saber walks towards the giant Orc, pausing to eye him, before approaching to smell him.
Cuddles holds out a hand for inspection. It is callused and rough from years of hard labor. He starts saying something under his breath. It's probably greetings in Orc, but it's hard to receive the Orc language as anything other than threatening if you aren't fluent.
Duška looks somewhat hollow eyed following the confrontation with Jarek, and she silently nods at the tall woman's words.
"He could. And if he does we may have a key to the Stag Lord's lock..."
The half elf looks torn and weary but continues haltingly on;
... this Bandit King attracts foul souls like a carcass does flies, then perhaps we could also be drawn in... yes?"
The ranger looks at the rest of the group present;
"If Jarek leads us back to him, my presence and perhaps some other of our number could enter the fort. Find out what we can, perhaps even strike from inside when the rest of our number strike outwith? Yes?"
Its clear to all that this is a reluctant notion, but one that the former bandit is willing to broach.
Natasha looks worried. "While this might work, it would be a very dangerous venture and I worry it could result in more casualties. This should not be our first plan of action, but it might serve well if other options seem undesireable."
The prospect of sending some of her new companions into the lion's den unguarded seem to make the woman quite anxious.
She might know for but a few hours, but still, she feels a bond with them already as fellow guardians of the land.
And while the half-elfen girl before her seems quite eager to prove her mettle, others died a bloody death in such pursuit not long ago.
"Also don't forget that even if Jarek joins us, we cannot trust him easily. Sending you in with him as company might well be equal to walking to the gallows."
"He may fear the Stag Lord, he may even be speaking the truth of leaving. I have my doubts, but there is certainly no love for us. He has no reason or desire to help us. He already stated he would not betray the Stag Lord. Frankly, I see no reason for us to trust him. I'm curious how you all have come to trust him so easily."
"Oh I do not trust him. But I am willing to let him earn it. His unwillingness for action might well come from fear, but in us he could see a way to do something about it.
He is weary and wants to live in peace I think. This could well look like a better way to earn it to him."
Duška shoots her companions a hard smile;
"Trust him? Ne. I do not. But like all bandits he is an opportunist. He fears the Stag Lord yes? And if we are the instrument of removing that fear... he will be free. Unshackled. The spoils of the fell bandit king will be for all left to scavenge and feed upon... So trust him we cannot once the Stag falls... Before then... maybe...yes?"