Katya clamps down on the queasiness in her gut. The man with the arrow in his eye socket eventually stops twitching--in part because another bandit with an unnatural twist to his torso is thrown on top of him by Cuddles. Slowly, the nausea is replaced by fury. She throws herself open to the feeling, revelling in it while it keeps the guilt away.
Cuddles drags in the next prisoner.
With her jaw set, Katya throws her bow away and advances on the bandit, grabbing him by the front of his shirt.
You stupid piece of $#!&! Do you see what your two companions chose? Death! I am telling you, right here, right now, that if you want it, you can live out the rest of your natural life. Or you can throw it all away, and go to whatever fate Pharasma has in store for you. Do you want that? Do you want to be like them? Or do you want to do the smart thing, and
She throws the bandit to the floor and steps away, putting a hand over her eyes.
One chance. That's it. Answer these questions, or you die. Maybe as badly as these two did. Maybe not. Let's start with the simple one.
What's your #^{&!>} name?
Harsk kneels next to the next prisoner his voice low and steady, "Look now boy this is scary,i understand, but we aren't bad people. Take some deep breaths and listen to me. Only one way gets you what happened to that last fella but so many ways stop it...."
Harks stands and talks louder so all the bandits can hear,"Tell us about these lands, where we can find your other bandits. Tell us about the Stag Lord. Tell us anything or commit to us some service, anything that shows you are sorry for what you done. Tell us your stories. Talk to us and breath..."
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Cuddles scoffs at the panicking men. Challenges should be met. Crying never did him any good. He cried his eye out once and he was still trying to find her. He refrains from squeezing more though. The others were talking to them. Maybe one knew of Lucy!
The thought seized his mind and drove out all other concerns. He scoops up the nearest man by the neck (though not chocking him too badly) and brings him within an inch of his nose.
LITTLE ONE. HALF-FLING. LUCY. YOU KNOW? he asks.
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The man in Cuddles's grasp gags and sputters, unable to speak, but also unable to do anything else.
The only one left for Harsk is the leader in the cloak. He regains his wits, and shakes his head a bit. "You can all die in a fire. You might take me, but the Stag Lord owns this land, and he will avenge us."
Katya shakes her head at the obstinacy of the bandits. Stupid. All of you, so stupid.
Cuddles, please, the man can't talk to you if you're holding his neck. If you put him down, maybe he can help you.
She makes her way over to the cloaked bandit leader. Listen to me. Your 'Stag Lord' is nothing but a two-bit bandit leader with delusions of grandeur. Justice comes for every man, including you and your Stag Lord, whether in this life, or the next. In this life, we are the agents of that Justice, whether you like it or not. Denying it doesn't change the fact that it will happen. Not to mention, my experience with criminals like you and your Stag Lord--and the woman with the axes--is that they usually don't hold each other in high regard. What makes you so sure the Stag Lord is different?
Cuddles huffs much like a bull preparing to charge. He doesn't break eye contact, but does drop the man (from about 6 and a half feet up).
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.
"Dear gods, this went south quickly."
Cander wipes the bits of blood from his bootheel. He was now a killer. Not a murderer, though, he reminded himself. This was an execution, a destruction of evil. But why did he feel so... empty?
Cander shook his head. The men who had spoken had been idiots, and for that he felt regret that the party couldn't make them understand how futile their resistance was, but that was no reason to beat himself up. He remembered something his father once told him:
"Men do not change, son. Remember that. Boys change. Hell, women change from day-to-day. But men never truly change."
He didn't want to believe it, but in front of him was evidence. These men, being threatened with death, were responding with idiotic loyalty to a bandit lord that probably wont even care that they've been killed.
"You can all die in a fire. You might take me, but the Stag Lord owns this land, and he will avenge us."
"Not if he doesn't know you're dead, man. We're going to get the drop on your 'Stag Lord,' and when we do? The only thing he'll be a ruler of is the plot of dirt we set him in. We're giving you one last chance: repent, and you live. Continue to screw yourself over, and you die."
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"Not if he doesn't know you're dead, man. We're going to get the drop on your 'Stag Lord,' and when we do? The only thing he'll be a ruler of is the plot of dirt we set him in. We're giving you one last chance: repent, and you live. Continue to screw yourself over, and you die."
"The Stag Lord is the only one with a legitimate claim to this land, and several others. You are merely agents and usurpers. You may claim my life here, but I know that whatever hell I am being condemned to, that you all will join me there soon."
Cuddles huffs much like a bull preparing to charge. He doesn't break eye contact, but does drop the man (from about 6 and a half feet up).
The last of the grunt bandits crumples to the ground, writhing in pain and gasping for air.
Hark frowns and looks to the defiant bandit.
So be it. Whatever your beliefs, sadly, I am an agent of a higher authority. And as it has been since civilizations began, in war, the victor makes the rules.
Kill the leader, then we can talk to the others about the strength of their convictions. When they stop wetting themselves or awaken from their panic.
Harsk looks at Cuddles and points to the bandit...
Cuddles nods. This man wasn't scared. He was defiant. Strong. He deserved a good death. Cuddles holds him down to the ground with one hand and delivers a bone-shattering punch to the face with the other. It's quick, but not very clean. It also sounds like a watermelon exploding.
Leandric looked away as Cuddlessnapped the man's neck. At least it had been cleaner than the other kills.
He then turned to the last remaining bandit, "Now then. Are you willing to talk yet or do you need some time to stew on it?"
Cander grimaces as Cuddles's fist ends the life of another man.
This isn't an execution, he thought. This is a massacre.
He turns to the remaining man with a pleading look in his eyes. He goes down on one knee, trying to appeal to the poor fool:
"Look, man: under the charter that we've been charged with, your friends left us no choice but to execute them as is dictated by Brevic law. Our hands are tied in respect to what we must do. You, however, still have a choice. You have a chance at life. I know that you're scared, and I know that a lot has happened, but take a few moments and consider your options: repent and you live. Remain adamant, and you die like the rest."
"I think it's fair to say that this one's no threat. We should let him calm down for a while, then see what he can tell us.
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Oleg nods to Cander. "For the love of all things good, please don't beat that one any worse than the others. You lot keep that up and I am going to need to hire an executioner." He shakes his head, and moves over to the shed.
After getting the man secured, and cleaning up the mess from the fight, he goes to sit over by the tables and the firepit. "So, you all, what is it you exactly plan to do?"
Katya watches in stony silence as the others deal with the bodies. While her feet feel like they're encased in granite, her mind whirls, her thoughts a barely intelligible jumble.
.
.
.
.
You did this // you
're responsible //
men died // while yo
u // what w
ould // how could //
your ther // you
stand there // whil
e they were dying /
/ what it was yo
u // your child //
your father //
// you // you //
//////
Her head swimming, Katya tries to move away, but stumbles as she goes, putting a hand out for support from the wall of the bunkhouse before she heads around the back, puts her head between her knees, and vomits up what feels like everything she's eaten for a week.
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It's a few minutes later by the time Katya has finished digging a hole with her bare hands and covered the remnants of her breakfast and lunch.
Looking pale, she makes her way shakily back to the trestles near the fire. She eases herself onto a bench and takes a tentative sip of water from her waterskin.
"So, you all, what is it you exactly plan to do?"
Katya wipes her mouth and clears her throat before she ventures her opinion.
Whether our remaining captive chooses the sensible path or not, it won't be long before his friends notice they're missing. A few days at the very most. We know they can't be too far away or they'd never get a party here by dawn. And unless this group was on a circuit, their companions will know they've met trouble here and will send a second group to find out what happened.
She pauses for a moment, pressing a hand to her forehead to block out the sun and look at her companions. It's what I'd do, anyway.
So I think our most pressing concern is finding and destroying their nearby camp. That should buy us some time.
Other than that, it would be worthwhile to find out what's nearby. Perhaps tomorrow we can do some scouting?
TOMORROW? Cuddles looks confused. BUT SUN JUST UP IN SKY? DEW NOT GO AWAY YET!
Harsk scrunches his face in almost a combination of shock and disgust, Again...I agree with the Orc? The world 'as gone to dis'eray! Huffing a second the dwarf continues, We might as well use the time. A spot of scouting while the man cools his heels in the shed then we come back and see how he feels about this mornin. I suspect us going out and getting some sun and wind and a solid march in would be good for all of us, thing bein how they are.
Katya glances at Oleg. It looks like it takes a lot of effort.
Oleg, do you have anything like a map of the area? Something that might show us what natural features there are nearby? Or could you describe it to us?
Katya closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths, and then makes her way slowly up the ladder to the top of the wall. She goes to stand next to the gate and looks south.
If I were a bandit...where would I hide?
Again...I agree with the Orc? The world 'as gone to dis'eray! Huffing a second the dwarf continues, We might as well use the time. A spot of scouting while the man cools his heels in the shed then we come back and see how he feels about this mornin.
Oh, Harsk, there's no reason to sound so surprised! I think Cuddles here has a good head on his shoulders, despite some of the words that might come out of it. I agree that if we cannot get information about the bandit's camp from him, we should pursue its discovery immediately. The sooner we get there, the closer we are to clearing banditry from these lands."
Cander goes to the gate to see if he might be able to determine the origin of the riders via their hoofprints and other such markers of their passage.
Cuddles follows along and does his best to help the trackers.
Still looking somewhat green from the botched executions, Anton simply remains quiet, watching the others. The white-knuckled grip on his spellbook betrays his distress, but he says nothing.
Well I suppose we follow these and hope they were the lazy sort and not in for a long ride?
"Now?" Anton asks of Harsk, his eyebrows slightly raised. "If we leave today, I'll be of limited use to you all."
"Worry not, good friend. We shall not travel too far, as the light is already half-done, and should be able to survive without your arcane talents for at least that long," Cander proclaims, pleased with himself in finding a clear trail.
These hoofprints shouldn't be hard to follow. Besides, the sooner we set out, the easier to follow this trail will be!"
Harks nods at Cander, Aye I agree. You keep your head down if need be Anton, we'll not push our luck too hard.
"Just give me a moment if you'd please and I'll be ready to depart. Are we sure the last bandit is secure back there?" Without waiting on an answer Leandric pulled out his spellbook and started going through it, lingering on one page. He mumbled several words in high tempo while tracing his index finger over the page. Once he reached the end he nodded and stowed the book away.
"Ready when you guys are."
With a shrug, Anton fetches his pack, his shoulder sagging under the weight. He puts his spellbook away, ashamed of the state of it in comparison to Landric's, and waits for the group to depart.
Cander mounts his steed, securing saddlebags and tightening straps before departing. He leans forward in the saddle, offering a handful of nuts and berries to Mina who voraciously gobbles them up.
"Alright, old gal, lets get going!"
As soon as the others are ready, Cander will be the first to set off through the gates, believing himself best to take point in the expedition.
Cuddles falls in with the rest as they go a huntin'
Harsk shoulders his gear wordlessly and follows the others, Just don't get too far ahead of me. I'm strong but my parents were only as tall as they were and I can only walk so wide in the step.
Harsk shoulders his gear wordlessly and follows the others, Just don't get too far ahead of me. I'm strong but my parents were only as tall as they were and I can only walk so wide in the step.
"Wait, say what?! WOAH THERE, MINA!"
Cander brings his steed to a screeching halt, then turns her to face the dwarf.
"Harsk, surely you can't mean you're going to walk?! It could be scores of miles to their encampment. Besides, we have plenty of steeds for us now," Cander points towards the Bandits' former horses, "So no one has to ride backsaddle. Everyone wins."
Unless you intend to pull that damn creature by its reigns the whole way, aye I mean to walk. You think I get much horse trainin in the forge? You mean to take me a man's shoulder off the ground? Scores of miles bother me none, I'm a race bred and born to do so.
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Travel is easy going for now, Cander is able to follow the tracks for several hours without incident as the terrain for a good portion around the trading post is rather open. Soft rolling hills give way to the open fields that give the greenbelt part of it's name.
As the group is moving southward, it is fairly easy to see a small group of elk grazing out in the open field, three young, a doe, and a massive 15 point buck.
Cuddles does his best for the party as they travel. He seems to know this kind of environment, or perhaps just gets very lucky.
Unless you intend to pull that damn creature by its reigns the whole way, aye I mean to walk. You think I get much horse trainin in the forge? You mean to take me a man's shoulder off the ground? Scores of miles bother me none, I'm a race bred and born to do so.
"Ugh... fine." Cander growls. He had envisioned the group gallantly galloping across the plains, the horses' manes flying in the wind. Now he couldn't even exceed a moderate trot because the little man felt squeamish about saddles.
Between his frustration and the sighting of possible game, Cander gets so distracted that he doesn't pay attention to the trail. He does, however, follow anyone who seems like they know where they're headed.
"Another day, perhaps..." he sighs wistfully, his mouth watering at the prospect of fresh venison.