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Cander comes riding in hard, and Cuddles takes the man setting him on the ground. The cloaked man seems to be breathing very faintly.
The bandits that Cuddles was struggling with put up a fight, trying to flee, but now that they are effectively hogtied, much of the wind is out of their sails, and they just mostly lie on the ground.
Harsk looks up at Cander after a cursory inspection, Looks like he'll live. I'm no healer though..ah..."triage" is a might better word for it. I suspect we don't treat him too rough though, he'll be al'right.
Harsk stands and looks out over the bandits, Right so...staright to the trial or do we give them an opportunity to do some "repenting"?
Harsk looks up at Cander after a cursory inspection, Looks like he'll live. I'm no healer though..ah..."triage" is a might better word for it. I suspect we don't treat him too rough though, he'll be al'right.
"Thank you, Harsk, and thank the gods! I thought I'd accidentally killed the man. I meant to take it easy on him, even traded my lance for a fist in hitting him. I swear I thought he'd be tougher, being one of their leaders and all. Or at least I assume this is the 'crude oaf' Oleg was talking about..."
Harsk stands and looks out over the bandits, Right so...staright to the trial or do we give them an opportunity to do some "repenting"?
"Let's tie them up and then confiscate their ill-gotten goods. After that, we can ask them for their stories and see who, or what, we believe."
They are criminals and cutthroats, after all. For them to be liars as well would be no surprise, Cander thought, dismounting Mina and patting her on the nose.
"Sorry I was rough on you, girl. You did well, and Ol' Deadeye knows you'll get extra feed tonight!"
The battle ends almost as quickly as it began, and Anton drops to his knees, feeling suddenly faint. His head reels from the exertion of casting three spells in quick succession, and his stomach churns. The cough comes with sickening speed, and it's some time before he can rise again. He stumbles over to the others, to where Cuddles ties the bandits, and reaches out for a shoulder to support himself on. "Sorry," he mutters, glancing away from his support. He takes time to steady himself as the group waits for the bandits to come around.
Cuddles get yet more rope and hogties the leader while he's still out of it.
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Once Cuddles has subdued and restrained the Bandits, they seem to be rather resigned to their captivity.
After you gather everything together, you will notice that the Cloaked man is in possession of a silver amulet, with an image of the Stag's Head on it.
Oleg comes out once the combat has finished to check on things. "Amazing job everyone. Thank you so much for your assistance. I am very glad that you have done this for me and my wife. You do not know how much this assists us."
Oleg sighs, and pulls Svetlana in for a hug. They share a loving kiss before Svetlana goes over to the fire pit to start up the cook fire. "Moon radish stew will be going on in a little bit everyone. Hope you are hungry for Lunch!"
Oleg comes over to speak with you more privately. "You are all welcome to take anything of theirs that you want. Anything that you do not take, I'll add to my stock. Finally make something off these infernal bandits. You are all welcome to stay here whenever you like. I'll work on getting a couple more beds and things together for the guest house. Again, I cannot thank you all enough for what you have done. I never thought this day would come..." Oleg trails off as he tries to wipe away a tear from his eyes.
As the group disarms the bandits and sets aside their gear, the hooded man's bow catches Cander's eye. He runs his hand along the curves, then tests the bow's draw. It seemed a perfect match: not too taut, but also not too easy to draw. He stowed it on his back, unstringing his original bow and sliding it into the cords of Mina's saddlebags.
"Never hurts to have extras," he said, to no one in particular.
After you gather everything together, you will notice that the Cloaked man is in possession of a silver amulet, with an image of the Stag's Head on it.
"Anyone know what this thing is? Holy symbol, maybe?"
"Moon radish stew will be going on in a little bit everyone. Hope you are hungry for Lunch!"
"Thank you so much Ma'am! I'm so hungry I could it a-" his eye catches Mina mid-sentence, "-radish. I could eat a radish."
Cuddles goes through the bandit's pockets and discovers a couple flasks of Alchemist's fire. He grins and holds them up. THESE HANDY. WHO WANT?
Katya looks over the pile of weapons, armour, and gear that Cuddles is slowly building. She picks up a longbow and tests its draw. This might be useful, she says as she takes it over to her pack. She retrieves her shortbow, and hands it to Oleg.
Here, she says, please take this as payment for food and board for a while. It wouldn't be right for you to allow me to stay for free, just because I did my job. We're all here to deal with bandits, our charters say so.
###
When Cuddles finds the cloaked man's amulet, Katya holds it up and looks it over.
###
The alchemist's fire Katya finds interesting.
I can take them, if nobody else wants them, she says. I'm not a bad throw.
###
When the immediate threat has been dealt with, but before any of the unconscious bandits regain their senses, Katya takes everyone aside for a minute, leaving Cuddles to watch over the trussed bandits. She speaks in a low, urgent tone.
We may have to make an example of one of them to motivate the rest to talk, she says. If it comes to that, I suggest either the leader or the one who so disgustingly suggested that Svetlana was to be his plaything. Our charters give us the right to execute anyone engaged in unrepentant banditry. We just need to decide what we're comfortable with and what that means. These men are clearly intent on preying on Oleg and Svetlana, so that means that all of them are eligible to be hanged or decapitated as far as I'm concerned. I suggest that the only way out for them is to tell us everything they know about their camp--they must have one nearby or they wouldn't be able to show up here at this hour--and the operation of their gang. We put this proposition to them, then we take them one by one into the stables and question them, leaving the leader last.
She runs a hand down her plait and shivers a little.
Then, we need to decide how we're going to try them. Harsk, I don't suppose you can cast that spell that makes people tell the truth, can you? Because that would be handy. Otherwise, we would need to rely upon some other divination or our own mortal frailties in assessing their intent. Regardless, I say we either execute them here if they do not sincerely repent, or, if they do, that we brand them on the face with a mark that will tell others of their previous misdeeds. If we stay here long enough, the mark will soon gain notoriety.
###
Anton nods in agreement at Katya's suggestions, having little to add. At the mention of a mark, he thinks for a moment, pulling his spellbook from his pack and flipping it open to one of the earliest pages.
"It's not ideal," he says slowly, "since it fades after a month. But I could mark them myself with a small charm." At the (expected) strange looks, he simply shrugs. "Its probably easier than a brand. More humane, too. Whether they deserve a more humane option, though..."
Cuddles waits with the prisoners while the others do what smart people did and started using big words with each other. He keeps himself busy by looming over the captives making sure they felt intimidated. Important work, indeed.
Harsk nods absently as the others talk, the dwarf seemingly distracted in thought as he unstraps his armor and drops it to the ground. Hammer in hand Harsk walks towards the bandits his various tattoos and ritual brands obvious on the torso and arms of the warrior priest as he looms over the proceedings with a steel gaze seemingly directed at nothing in particular as he talks,
I will spare you the sermon but I know why I am here now, know in a way I was unsure of before.
Harsk points his hammers at the bandits My brothers and sisters of Torag, clerics of faith and wisdom are charged with maintaining the goodly order of the world in keeping with our Father's tenants... Harsk smacks his hammer into the palm of his hand, But my order sent me, not a cleric but a priest of the forge. Warriors...we make from the scrap of the world a better place...we don't maintain order, we create it for the good of all...
Harsk turns to the others, Penance is not a taking of a punishment. Penance is an act of contrition. An apology for the ills one has done. Frontier justice is like war...harsh...and final. We have neither the resources or time to deal with anything else. I say these men have two choices; aid us in our cause with information and thier actions, acting to undo the ill they have caused or be struck down as the charter of our mission demands...I say no marks. No release. Action to undo what was done, or action to undo their persons...
Harsk huffs proudly as he looks to see what the others think of his words.
###
Katya traces a finger along the antlers of the stag's head depicted on the bandit leader's amulet.
You know, she says, I stayed a night at Fort Serenko on the way down here. They're a few days' walk from where we are now, but they must get stories from travellers, or have their own scouts. Because they told me a story--half-legend, they said--about a bandit lord in these parts who calls himself the Stag Lord.
Katya's eyes become unfocused as she talks, reciting the story, lost in the images it creates in her mind, while her fingers continue to absently trace the image on the amulet. It's hard to separate rumour from fact, but here's what they told me. The man who is now the Stag Lord was once a Rostlander farmer, a man with a wife and a son. One night, a group of ruffians came to his home, probably looking for some easy money. They roughed up his wife and son, and tied them all up while they searched the house.
They didn't find much--so they took it out on the family. Beat them all, then left. By the time he freed himself, they say his child was dead.
The investigators found nothing. His wife left him. Upset and frustrated that he had lost everything, he came here, to the Greenbelt, with all his bottled up anger. And somewhere along the way, he found himself a new life as a bandit leader.
Katya shakes her head, blinking to clear her vision, and stops stroking the amulet. Here's the part I am sure of, because the Fort commander showed me the reports. The Stag Lord has been active in the Greenbelt for several months at least. His bandits are well-organised, and number in the dozens, maybe more. If he has some kind of camp or fortress down here, nobody has yet found it.
Which, I guess, is our job.
Although, in good news, nobody thought his choice of iconography had anything to do with Old Deadeye. It seems they just share a coincidental interest in the same animal.
###
Katya stares after Harsk, trying to work out whether the dwarf was bluffing to intimidate the captives, or genuinely intent on offering them the black-and-white choice of either execution, or accompanying them on an assault against the bandits' camp.
She beckons him over, hoping to keep this conversation out of earshot of the bandits in case they get any ideas about the specifics of her moral code.
Harsk...men and women find themselves in harsh situations every day. A man might steal food to feed his starving family because his cruel overseer has a grudge against him and threw him out of his job. A woman might strike out at an abusive husband and kill him--although that wasn't her intent--because she feared for her life.
We don't know how these men came to be bandits. I agree we have ample evidence to execute them where they stand, but I would first hear from them on their own stories. An individual driven to banditry--as opposed to one who chooses the life out of laziness or some horrific disregard for the life and welfare of his fellow man--surely deserves a chance to turn their life around. Let us not forget, she adds, that if we are successful in our endeavours here, we can expect our names to become known, and stories to be told about our exploits just as stories are being told of the Stag Lord's beginnings. People will seek our counsel and pass judgement on our actions.
I am not sure whether a reputation for harshness will be a good start.
She gestures to the tied-up prisoners. Look at them. They were little threat. Branding or marking those who renounce their ways and then releasing them makes clear our intent to show mercy and provide absolution to those who deserve a second chance. And who among us can say that we haven't all deserved a second chance, at some point?
And, if any branded or marked man should be found to break the law again, then there shall be no mercy granted. The value of mercy lies in its redemptive power, but for some, the light of mercy is not enough to turn them back to the right path. For those, there is no light, no mercy; only cleansing fire.
Katya shifts, uncomfortable being the centre of attention for so long. Look, I guess I'm saying two things. One, I believe in the power of redemption and mercy to change the soul of a man. Not all men--some are beyond any chance of salvation. But most men can change. Two, I am not certain that forcing these men into an arrangement that mimics slavery is the best way for us to make our first charter-empowered decision. I have seen what happens to men who resent their legal and physical imprisonment. They do not become better people--they regress, to the point where they become more monstrous than they were when they were first imprisoned. And when they have served their term, they are released to the public once again. It seems to me that locking a man up and depriving him of any good influence is a crime in itself.
Regardless, though, I have another issue with the plan to enlist these men in our endeavours to rid the Greenbelt of banditry: if we do bring them along with us, how will we police them? If any of them do indeed harbour wicked intent, it would only take a momentary loss of concentration for us to wind up with a knife in our back or at our throat. Safer to release them--if they can convince us that they will indeed renounce their life of banditry--and simply execute them if they are found to have gone back on their word.
Katya chews her lip in thought as she pauses, then speaks up again. Perhaps we should ask Oleg and Svetlana for their input into this? After all, they are the victims here--at least, they’re the ones we know and have ready access to.
In the end, we need to make decisions we are comfortable with. I have said my piece. Harsk, perhaps you can expand more on your thoughts to give us more information to help us all come to our own decision?
I have another issue with the plan to enlist these men in our endeavours to rid the Greenbelt of banditry: if we do bring them along with us, how will we police them? If any of them do indeed harbour wicked intent, it would only take a momentary loss of concentration for us to wind up with a knife in our back or at our throat.
"I'm with Katya on this. To keep them with us is hardly practical. It would expend too much energy and we'd never get a moment's rest. In addition: I don't know about you all, but I'm not comfortable giving men the choice of 'Join us or die.' Only the truly twisted speak in absolutes."
Perhaps we should ask Oleg and Svetlana for their input into this? After all, they are the victims here--at least, they’re the ones we know and have ready access to.
Cander had a thought, one so clear and possibly useful that he couldn't keep it to himself.
"What if we cross-reference what these bandits say about themselves with what others say about them? We can take Oleg and Svetlana's word at face value, but then see how well the bandits' stories line up with the background information our hosts provide. With any luck, we can get the bandits to incriminate themselves if they're truly guilty, and get a sense for how they speak of, and treat, others."
Harsk bobs his head with a grimace as Katya asks for the aside but the dwarf follows and listens stoically nodding at the woman as she makes her points. He stays quiet as she expounds her concerns and the dwarf only continues to listen. As Cander speaks, however, it is clear the dwarf fidgets and turns a bright red but seems to contain himself om so much that when the young monk is done talking the dwarf merely exhales loudly as he gestures with his hammer and open hand,
I've not dealt with a lot of humans and I know that my people have a certain reputation for firmness that is hard for more free folk like you. But order is what makes things safe in my eyes.
Harsk frowns, Some things are absolute and its not twisted to say so. Some things have context, aye, and I concede that in my rush to preach my word I forget I was sent here because I am flexible when others are not.
So let me say this: Mercy is fine, and I'm all for a third way but the law of this land, according to Brevoy is to kill the unrepentant. Penance is paid through action not inaction. A man vowing to do no evil ain't doin penance, a man workin to bring law when he was unlawful? An act seeking forgiveness. I'd just as soon not brand these men and have them seethe with the fire returning to this Stag Lord and arming up to join him when they come to punish us for ruining their plans.
Harsk sighs as he tugs on his beard, A proper prisoner in chains doing labor and work for good is no slave. Its punishment. We set term and we reward behavior. I'd not arm a single one of these men but porters? Laborer? It's take a watchful eye but at least I'd have eyes on them. Proper justice is slow but I'm all for it if you want a way to keep these men alive but I can't see how letting them go no matter their words keeps us or these fine folk safe.
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Oleg listens to everyone, as he works gathering up what is left over from the group taking their spoils, and starts to pull it back towards the main building. He comes over to the group solemnly. "Again, I thank you for what you all have done. I can convert the shed to a holding cell I suppose. Though to be honest, after what they threatened to do to my wife, I'd just as soon hang them on a short rope from the palisade wall."
He shuffles off to tidy up his storehouse. Svetlana comes over. "Hope everyone will be hungry, lunch will be ready soon."
"Hanging them from the walls wouldn't be a good idea, it will only attract beasts to the outpost. If you want to do something like that chop off their heads and stick those on pikes." His face turns grim as he speaks of the beheadings before tuning back to the others.
"While I would prefer to see them imprisoned and working to pay off their debts I do not see how we will do that here. While the threat of a hug from Cuddles would probably keep them in line we will not always be here to monitor them and we can't ask that from Oleg or Svetlana. They also need to be fed, putting a further strain on the outpost. I personally think we should give them the chance to prove themselves."
He sighed as he turned towards the restrained bandits, "As for their leader, he clearly has some rank within the bands of this "Stag Lord". If he isn't willing to give is the information we desire I suggest we enforce the law on him, as is our duty."
Katya speaks quietly as she responds to Harsk's impassioned but reasoned suggestions.
If we had the means to ensure the safety of those who we are meant to be here to protect, then I'd agree with you more readily, Harsk. But as it is, we don't have the resources to keep them imprisoned or fed, we don't have the numbers to keep them under guard, and we don't have any hard labour for them to engage in.
Her gaze wanders until she's staring out the gate at the vista to the south; the unexplored Greenbelt they've been sent to 'civilise'. All that out there is virgin territory. Unsettled. Unspoiled, in a lot of ways. And we've been sent to bring it under control. Our decisions are going to have a lasting impact. She takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly.
I don't think we have the resources to implement the system Harsk prefers. Not yet. But I am beginning to ponder whether we should execute the leader, on the basis that he has not only engaged in banditry himself, but encouraged others to do so from a position of power. What do you think?
Unless we are willing to take the time to do those things; build stocks, get food, and process them proper then I think our only options are punishment if we are not willing to risk keeping these men alive. In the face of that is what is the road to penance? I suppose technically it is what these men offer as recompense for their crimes. We should do this right. Make it clear that the penalty for their lack of cooperation is death, see what they think sets them right with the world, and judge each man on the merits of his words and what we know of their actions. We can confer as a group on each man, see what Oleg and his wife know of them that have come into his stead before and issue judgement based on our groups will. Absent judges, guards or prisons we are the law here. The one true lasting impact we have at this point is to prove to those in the wilds here that Brevoy will tolerate no more banditry.
The moral debate is beginning to bore Cander, but a life of living with siblings has taught him that when emotions get involved, decision-making processes become far more difficult. He tries to find some way to reach an accord between the party members:
"We have a lot of different ideas at the moment, but a lot of it seems to hinge upon the bandits' guilt or innocence, the only side of which we've heard from Oleg and Svitlana."
He grimaces upon a certain recollection: "Also, of course, we have the self-incriminating words of the one damnable bastard, spouting all kinds of foulness before the fight. I trust our hosts and what we've already heard with our own ears, but these men should have a chance to talk to us."
"I think we can all agree that they should be given a chance to redeem themselves, whether it be through penance or mercy. Why not listen to them first, then decide how to deal with them. If we remain unconvinced of their innocence, we can react accordingly. Besides, they can begin enacting their "penance" by giving us information about this "Stag Lord's" operations. We have nothing to lose by listening."
Harks motions at Cander, Aye, exactly.
While the others argue about... something... Cuddles busy's himself with looking like he could squish any of them like a grape. Because he could.
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Svetlana calls out as the others are talking. "LUNCH IS READY!" She clangs a metal bell next to the firepit to call everyone over and starts serving up moon radish and venison stroganoff for everyone out on the tables.
She waits for a moment when the others come to the table. "Eat up everyone, there is plenty. Don't have an empty belly today."
Cuddles jogs over and waits until everyone else is served before taking his portion. He eats twice what a normal person would four times as messily. By the end, even his hair is included in the mess.
As Harsk and Cander make their contributions to the debate, Katya's face begins to redden. Why was she pursuing this? Wasn't it all just some metaphysical debate that had no bearing on the real world?
Seriously, you want to talk with them before we go in and free the Councillor? Why? Idiots like this never learn. They can't. They're no better than animals. And last I checked, animals were only good for being slaughtered and put onto my dinner plate. Now get in there. You need to learn to stop thinking and just obey orders.
Katya blinks hard to try to clear her mind of the memory of Watch Captain Kurov and his black-and-white approach to morality.
That sounds like a good solution, she says. Let's hear from them one by one, but still leave the leader til last. Unless he's a coward, he's not likely to be very forthc--
"LUNCH IS READY!"
Katya offers a smile. Let's get started after we've eaten.
She sits down to the meal with the others. Svetlana, you never answered my question from before; where do you get your supplies from? I didn't see many traders or farms on the road down here.
Anton watches the ethical debate unfolding before him, running a finger over the sigils in his spellbook. Feeling he has nothing more to contribute, he instead watches Katya as she turns red - whole not too good at reading people, he knows enough to be able to tell what that means.
As the group sits down for lunch, he nudges her slightly with one bony elbow. "You alright? he asks softly, piling stroganoff on his plate. As he eats, it's evident his lack of weight isn't linked to any lack of appetite.
At one point, though, his appetite seems to fade somewhat as he notices the mess Cuddles makes of his own meal.
Anton watches the ethical debate unfolding before him, running a finger over the sigils in his spellbook. Feeling he has nothing more to contribute, he instead watches Katya as she turns red - whole not too good at reading people, he knows enough to be able to tell what that means.
As the group sits down for lunch, he nudges her slightly with one bony elbow. "You alright? he asks softly, piling stroganoff on his plate.
Katya offers the slim wizard a wan smile, her lips pressed together tightly.
Yeah...just... She trails off, staring at the food on her fork.
Not so used to these sorts of conversations, I guess. She gestures at her armour and weapons.
Used to be part of the City Watch in New Stetven. There it was either 'follow the law, don't think for yourself' or--I'm sorry to say--'might makes right'. Wasn't much call for...intellectual conversations there.
She puts the food in her mouth and chews mechanically, then swallows before she speaks again.
I'm exercising parts of my brain I haven't used in more than a few years. I suppose it's causing some strain, is all.
She flashes another smile, this one a little more genuine.
But thanks for asking, anyway. How are you feeling? You didn't seem to pull through that fight too well, you were coughing a lot afterwards. Are you ill? Is there anything I can do to help? Or get Harsk to do to help, maybe? He's the one with the direct line to Torag. I think. I'm not really sure how that all works...
"That explains a lot about you, actually," the slim man chuckles, dabbing the corners of his mouth with his handkerchief. "You had orders to follow, and not much room to exercise your own beliefs on the law. Correct?"
At her question, he stares down at his plate for a moment, then at his bony hands. "It's not something you can help with, unfortunately," he replies in a low, mournful tone. "All my life, I've been sickly and frail - it's why my father pushed me towards wizardry. Wizardry, my boy, can make you strong as an ox and hale as a bear, he'd always say. And while there were more exotic things one could do with it - I've heard legends of powerful mages who can freeze time, and create their own worlds - I was always more concerned with one thing - finding my own physical health." He sighs, picking up his fork again. "After ten years, though, I haven't quite found it. The cough's been coming and going for twelve; my inability to put on weight, most of my life. It's a shame, too - more than once I've been told I'd be rather handsome with some meat on my bones and colour in my cheeks." He chuckles as he resumes eating. "So in short, yes, I am ill; and no, I don't think there's anything you can do to help. Just catch me if I pass out in a coughing fit," he adds in what he hopes is a humorous tone, offering a thin-lipped smile.
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Svetlana, you never answered my question from before; where do you get your supplies from? I didn't see many traders or farms on the road down here.
Svetlana smiles. "There are plenty of people that trade with us. Hunters, trappers, the occasional passerby. We also do get the odd caravan or Merchant wagon that comes down from Brevoy to supply us. Our furs and other such trade tend to be very popular up north. That brings us other things that we can use."
Oleg comes over with his food after she finishes. "Speaking of. As a reward for you all, I would like to offer you 50 gold crowns as payment for helping to defend my post, as well as these." Oleg smiles and lays out 3 small vials on the table. "Since you all seem the type to go out and combat the untamed wilds, I am certain that you can use these more than we ever could. These two are potions of healing. This one is a protective potion. So..., once you settle the business with those bandits, what are your plans?"
"I'm not sure if we all have the exact same charter but I am here to tame these lands, make them more hospitable. As of right now these lands are nothing but a sources of bandits, mosquitoes and other problems and I am here to fix that. I assume all of us are." He looked at the frail man as he talked too Katya. He seemed to have some over inflated idea of magic yet at the same time his vision was limited. Maybe he'd have to educate the guy at some point in the future.
"Yeah, we all have the same charter, then. My guess was that after we decide what to do with these bandits and put the kibosh on their operations that we start going after any other local baddies, monsters, giants, trolls, etc. You name it, we'll set it right. I'd say we don't really have our bases covered with our current members, but if that last battle was any indicator we'll do just fine."
Caden, though glad to have something other than nuts and berries to stuff his gut, was still hankering for some meat in his diet. He eats the radish stew slowly, hoping that he'll fill up before he finishes his bowl.
Speaking of. As a reward for you all, I would like to offer you 50 gold crowns as payment for helping to defend my post, as well as these.
"50 crowns and potions, and you get security AND the rest of their gear? Oleg, my friend, you're one hell of a businessman, but I like you. Your generosity has been more than measured, so thank you for both your hospitality in past, present, and future."
Cander is obviously somewhat drunk on the last victory as he says this, convinced that he's proven himself to be some sort of hot-shot adventurer after one skirmish.
Cuddles finishes his stew and stretches. Thankfully, his huge torso means that his arms stretch above his neighbor's heads.
MORNING NEW. WHAT DO NOW? he says with child-like excitement.
"That explains a lot about you, actually," the slim man chuckles, dabbing the corners of his mouth with his handkerchief. "You had orders to follow, and not much room to exercise your own beliefs on the law. Correct?"
A minor look of annoyance flits across Katya's face.
As far as it goes, yes, what you're saying is accurate. There weren't many chances to create any sort of lasting change--not least of all because of the political situation. But it's hardly the whole of who I am, just as your health isn't the whole of who you are. We're all shaped by a variety of influences throughout our life. Some that we welcome and others that we don't. At all. It's clear from her tone that she is not keen on any further discussion on that particular topic.
She gathers another forkful from her plate.
If you have the time later, do you think you could explain to me how spellcasting works? Maybe while we're on the road. I mean, I know I don't have any talent, but I've always found that learning new things gives me a new perspective on the other things I already know.
MORNING NEW. WHAT DO NOW? he says with child-like excitement.
Now, I think we need to hear from the bandits. One by one, like we said before. Will anyone volunteer to remain on guard with the remainder?
###
Aye settling up with the bandits may be a big task if they are as well organized as the rumors suggest... Trelck consumes his food with enthusiasm and laughs at the orc as he throws things everywhere, Looks like my cousin Trelck on Ascension Day. Good stew though. Root vegetables are the best...
Cander thanks Svetlana, then steels himself for the task ahead.
"Alright. Cuddles: would you be so kind as to stay here with the bandits? If any of them move... give them a really big hug. A really really big hug. In the meantime, we're going to take them one by one ask ask them a few questions, okay?"
If Cuddles agrees, Cander walks up to the captured bandits and begins to pontificate:
"Alright, boys, you've found yourself in a bit of trouble. We've been sent here by the Swordlords to civilize this region. As you've been able to see, we certainly have the ability to deal with the likes of you without taking so much as a scratch. That's why it's very important that you each answer the questions we're about to ask each of you truthfully: we're not screwing around. If we think you're lying, you might end up with your head separated from your shoulders and speared on a pike from these walls.
Now, we're going to take each one of you individually to the guesthouse here and we're going to talk from a little while. We're going to ask you a few questions, and from your answers we'll be able to decide what to do with you. If you run, you'll be stopped. Cuddles is very good at stopping people. If you fight? You'll most likely be killed. We're offering you a chance here, so don't muck it up by doing something stupid."
Cander then motions for the group, sans Cuddles, to come with him into the guest house. Once inside, Cander will make sure each captive is sitting on the bed, and that he himself is standing in front of the door, the only exit from the guesthouse. If all goes as planned, he asks each of them the following:
As the man chuckles, Katya unslings her newly acquired longbow.
Harsk, would you please hold his head still? I wouldn't want to miss.
Katya nocks an arrow and draws the longbow back to her ear. The point of the arrow is a few inches from the bandit's eye.
Perhaps you didn't hear my companion. One chance is all you get. Answer the man, or so help me this arrow will be in your brain faster than you can blink.
Harsk does comply. He offers a look of "sorry" to Katya for a moment before his face hardens with the surety of what (to his mind) must come next. His baritone voice is quieter than normal but still audible, So the Father demands. An example then.
Standing up behind the thug Harsk clears his throat and intones loudly, By command of House Surtova, in Brevoy and lands under their control, the penalty for unrepentant banditry is death. Before gods and those assembled let it be known that mercy was offered and refused.
Harsk nods at Katya to proceed.
All who live shall face her judgement, Katya says before she lets the arrow fly.
Outside, Cuddles steps up to the first struggling bandit (not the leader) and performes his standing orders. He takes one of them in his fearsome grip and squeezes. The man's breath first comes in gasps, which then turn to wheezes, which quickly fades to silence. His mouth opens and closes like a fish and his eyes loose focus as the blood pressure in his head spikes. No screams escape him. There's nothing left to scream with.
There is an odd creaking sound, then the man's rib cage gives way with a horrible series of snaps, like a tree trunk giving way in the face of a hurricane.
Cuddles drops the body in front of the others and stares them down without a word. It's legs crumple immidiately and the body bends at horrifying places, like the mid-chest area.
"Oh gods, Katya, don't torture the man!"
Cander spins to deliver a powerful kick towards the man's temple, hoping to knock him unconscious at the very least. He may have been an unrepentant criminal, but no one deserves that kind of pain.
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Cuddles, now that he has loved another man into the next life, is now drawing an immense amount of panic from the remaining Bandits. They keep struggling in their ropes trying to get away.
Cander, as he lands the kick on the man's temple seems to hit much harder than he initally intended to, and a sickening sound of his head and neck twisting suddenly and cracking several times can be heard, silencing the poor man's screams.
As the moment of chaos passes Harsk flushes in anger wheeling on the prisoners Is this what you want? Is this what this Stag Lord is worth? Frontier justice is brutal, clearly! Think on it the next man who thinks to spit and act mighty. We don't want this but we WILL do it!
Harsk continues to stare the prisoners down as he gestures over his shoulder, Nqa tom ntej no ib. Muab nws tso tom ntej no mus rau nws tuag phooj ywg.
Cuddles grasps the next by the neck and drags him into the interrogators. He then drags the dead man out and drops him over his buddy. Bodies pile. he says. You be next?
Leandric knew investigations could get ugly but this was more than just ugly, this was sickening. Sure, these were thugs but no one deserved to go like this. At least what Katya did had been an accident. Or had it?
Still, there was nothing he could do but hope the others were wiser than their dead fellows. The punishment for what they did was death after all.