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The two of you hooked up about a month ago for a 'artifact retrieval' operation. The target was a band of Tiger Lords, a widely spread tribe of barbarian raiders, rumoured to have stumbled upon Numerian artifacts.
However, as you got closer to your target and managed to spy on them, a few disturbing things became clear:
1. The dispersed tribes had assembled into much greater pockets, or really small armies. This forced you to be much more prudent.
2. One of those armies had recently left for an operation and joined with a set of trolls, which was surprising. They never returned.
3. The rest of the bands finally assembled around a disturbing set of individuals: two priestesses of Gyronna and the barbarian lord, a brute called Armag the Twice-Born. There seems to be some strong religious vibe around this Armag. This trio eventually left too with a small force, in the same direction.
4. The Tiger Lords do not seem to have interesting artifacts to retrieve, which was a let down. However, you found out that they were mounting a large expedition to retrieve ancient artifacts. This led you to follow the massive band that recently left too, bringing you north into the desolate hills of the Stolen Lands.
Desolate doesn't give those hill justice. There is close to no water and less game to hunt. The temperature has dropped to the freezing point at night. In other words, you're not too keen on sticking around too long.
You are camped in a narrow valley about an hour walk from the raiders' camp. About a week ago, the tribe finally settled for good and has proceeded to get some excavation done. The hill giants accompanying the barbarians did most of the work.
Four nights ago, there was a big party. You've spotted Armag and the two priestesses, as well as another prominent figure, a Half-Orc priest of Gorum. With the priest came a slew of brand new weapons, and the barbarians are now quite glittery with shiny new spears, swords, and mails.
Kriger approaches the camp's area, which takes almost half the day, preferring to keep to the shadows and not get spotted.
Once nearer, he proceeds to move in a wide zig-zag to survey the area south of the camp. He finds some tracks, which he stealthily follows and arrives right behind a party of two seemingly making their way to the raiders' camp.
Marcel shivered in the small dell where he and the wizard sat huddled around a tiny fire. He'd spent all day trying to find something - anything - to call a camp, and this was it. The slight overhang curved a bit, which hid the light of the fire, but it did nothing to keep out the wind. And the cold.
He shivered again. Even in his winter gear, with his bedroll as a makeshift poncho, he was cold. He hated being cold.
"W-well Oberlin," he asks through chattering teeth, "what's next? This is an odd b-bunch, for sure, these nomads. Giants, trolls, and who knows what th-those others are. Should we turn back?"
Oberlin sighs, and pokes at the tiny fire with a gloved hand. "This isn't even hot enough to brew coffee on, and I am concerned that if we make anything bigger, we will have a smoke trail pointing like a finger directly at us." Oberlin said morosely.
"I think that you are being smart Marcel, we should consider leaving. This isn't likely to work. There are scouts out everywhere, I am running low on rations, as I believe, are you. This band is too large for us to take on, and I was hoping that we would be challenged only with a band of barbarians, not a band of barbarians with a war priest and hag-followers."
"I also hate sitting here freezing while you are off poking around." he grumbles.
"Look, if we don't see some opportunity...something today, I think that I will teleport us out of here and back to civilization."
Malaswyn picks at some food between his teeth, ”I have been thinking about the children. We can expect no better from this Tiger Lord: we must take care that there are no innocents caught up in the fray.”
He looks at Kalsgrim from across the campfire.
[dice=survival]1d20+6
[dice=perception]1d20+7Oberlin sighs, and pokes at the tiny fire with a gloved hand. "This isn't even hot enough to brew coffee on, and I am concerned that if we make anything bigger, we will have a smoke trail pointing like a finger directly at us." Oberlin said morosely.
"I think that you are being smart Marcel, we should consider leaving. This isn't likely to work. There are scouts out everywhere, I am running low on rations, as I believe, are you. This band is too large for us to take on, and I was hoping that we would be challenged only with a band of barbarians, not a band of barbarians with a war priest and hag-followers."
"I also hate sitting here freezing while you are off poking around." he grumbles.
"Look, if we don't see some opportunity...something today, I think that I will teleport us out of here and back to civilization."
As if the gods were listening, Oberlin and Marcel hear the loud crack of a branch. They flinch and turn quickly enough to spot a well bearded man and a wild looking mane, all bundled in one frame, along with a nasty-looking axe.
The ranger spots them as well, and for a tense moment, time passes...
Cringing at the fact he's been noticed, he shakes his head in annoyance. "I freaking swear. I might as well send out invitations." Realizing they just can't keep standing there and staring at each other while wondering who's gonna make the first move, "Okay, let's just all keep our wits about us and no one do anything stupid. No since in this having to get ugly. I'm guessing since you two haven't hollered for help, you're not with them. Well that and the fact you're dressed a lot better than those scumbag barbarians. So that just leaves me with one tiny little question: Why are you two here? And how have either of you survived this long out here? You don't really strike me as the hardy type," he says as a matter of fact. "No offense," he shrugs, truly meaning nothing by it.
"Anything stupid? Like trying to sneak up on a camp...and failing at it?"
Marcel leaps to his feet, bedroll/poncho falling to the ground. He gives it a nudge with his heel to keep it out of the fire.
"Let's start with names. You barged into our camp. You start. Then we'll answer questions."
Not moving from where he sits huddled next to the fire, the blanket-heaped man merely looks up, showing a narrow face, thin, sallow from the cold, and with an intense focus in his eyes.
"Steady friends." he says mildly before addressing the newcomer a bit louder.
"Interesting...you aren't dressed appropriately to be one of scouts from the Tiger Lords...and you are a bit old to be earning your stripes. So you must be out here for some other purpose as well. Its too cold to be sticking one another with barbs, verbal or otherwise. How about you just introduce yourself and come over to join our measly fire? That way my companion and you can glare at one another more comfortably."
"And no offense taken stranger. I would not place myself in the "hardy" category either." he says with a wry smile that evaporates as a shiver wracks his body.
Raising an eyebrow and with a look of near fury upon his visage, he glances around before yelling in a hushed tone, "Old?! Who's old?! I'm barely 30!" He then takes a deep breath and ponders that a moment as he strokes his beard. "It's the beard, isn't it? It's got to be the beard. Ah well, I'm not shaving it because the women love a good beard - especially the nuns," he says with a waggle of his eyebrows and a grin. Noticing nothing but blank stares from the two, his grin dissipates. "Yeah never mind." Moving up near the two - confident yet cautious - "Okay, name's Kriger. These scumbag barbarians have taken some folks captive and we aim to get 'em back. Problem is, there's more of them than there are of us. So... the trick is to get them out safely without having to take on the whole stinking bunch of 'em."
However, you don't know yet how the camp is organized, except that it sits in the shadow of a high hill and near a high cliff of black rock. There are hill giants at the foot and the top of the cliff.
"Well now." Marcel says sitting down in his spot and gathering his bedroll about him. "That's a shame about those folks. We can probably help with that - I've a fair idea how the camp is defended about the perimeter - and we happen to be looking for employment as our last job seems to have gone sour." He says this last bit casting a glance over at Oberlin.
"You said 'we', I'm assuming you aren't alone out here?" He grabs a stick and begins poking at the fire. "Oh, I'm Marcel, this here's Oberlin."
Oberlin quirks an eyebrow at the newcomer. "Yes, the beard. More like that you aren't in your teens and simply running at us screaming. Or that you didn't simply shoot a bow at us from the grass." he explains before turning to his companion.
"Marcel! Seriously, we need to discuss drama and how to achieve an appropriate effect. I was working on sagacity and mysteriousness over here and you had to go and ruin it." Oberlin finished with a wry grimace.
"And while we may have added a problem, there may be an opportunity in the likely chaos created by removal of captives for my particular job to find completion."
"Though," he continued, looking levelly at Kriger, "You don't know me so I will speak plainly: removing people from the custody of the Tiger Lords far outstrips any other personal requirement of my own."
"Nope," he responds to Marcel, "not alone. We've made camp a bit back. And employment is what you're looking for, huh?" A wry grin forms. "Well you're in luck. I believe Kals just may have a job for you. He can explain it to you because he's good at that sort of thing. Me? I find explaining that kind of stuff boring and I don't care," he shrugs, grinning.
"And while we may have added a problem, there may be an opportunity in the likely chaos created by removal of captives for my particular job to find completion."
"Though," he continued, looking levelly at Kriger, "You don't know me so I will speak plainly: removing people from the custody of the Tiger Lords far outstrips any other personal requirement of my own."
He then turns to Oberlin, "Fair enough. You two help us get these captives free and I'll help you with whatever is you need to get at these scum." Turning back to Marcel, "Alright, Marcel, if you got a scouting report on Camp Scum, then you two follow me. I'll introduce you to the team and we can go from there. Gather whatever you need and let's move."
The group makes it back to the camp with little issue, and you get acauainted with one another.
Marcel rolls his eyes at Oberlin. "Really? Ok Mr. Dark and Atmospheric. Add to the discussion agenda 'not telling a prospective employer that our sense of justice outweighs our need to eat.' That's just bad negotiating." He throws a nod and a wink towards Kriger, as if to say, 'wizards, amiright?'
Marcel makes sure to stay behind and to the right of Oberlin as they enter the camp of Kriger's friends. Partly to appear as no more than a bodyguard of sorts for the wizard, partly to leave an escape route open for himself, but mostly to add an air of 'drama and appropriate effect' for Oberlin.
Marcel rolls his eyes at Oberlin. "Really? Ok Mr. Dark and Atmospheric. Add to the discussion agenda 'not telling a prospective employer that our sense of justice outweighs our need to eat.' That's just bad negotiating." He throws a nod and a wink towards Kriger, as if to say, 'wizards, amiright?'
A wry grin forms as he gives a slight nod before heading out.
When Kriger returns with others, Kalsgrim stands, bow at the ready. "Kriger, my friend. These don't look like barbarians, or liberated daughters." The paladin's stern expression invites an explanation from anyone.
Unable to contain a grin, "If they were liberated daughters they sure wouldn't be the pretty ones! HA! HA!" he laughs heartily. But as he's unable to crack the stone visage of the paladin, he holds up his hands, "Alright, alright, enough with the jokes. You gotta admit, though, it was pretty good," he gives a wink. "Okay, this here is Marcel and this one is Oberlin. Marcel says he's got info on the layout of the camp. I figured we could use some information like that to help us better prepare to free the captives. All they're willing to trade it for is employment. Well, Marcel is not so sure about Oberlin."
Oberlin eyes the impressive young man standing before them.
"I do not wish to give offense sir, but your companion here did not see fit to address you, nor tell us anything about you beyond your interest in the Tiger Lords. You already know our names, and our interest in the Tiger Lords as well. Specifically, I hired Marcel to assist me in the appropriation of some items that I believe the barbarians removed from Numeria which I need for my research."
"But the rescue of prisoners from the Tiger Lords is a much higher priority than my research and I am interested in aiding you if I can."
'So this is Kalsgrim and his lot...' Marcel muses, '...got 50 silver with Jarrel back in Mivon they don't make the year...' But his face remains stony.
He takes the Duke's hand in turn, with a slight bow of his head. "Marcel D'Anjou. Expert Appropriator." And because he can't resist, he adds in a hushed tone as he throws Kriger another wink on the sly: " Rest assured we will help as we can, Lord. But do not ask of the items of which I was to appropriate, for they are Dark and Mysterious..."
Malaswyn stands when introduced as High Priest but does not interrupt proceedings, speaking when other introductions are done, ”Kriger’s hunts rarely disappoint. This is an auspicious meeting.”
Then he addresses the newcomers directly, ”I am Satenrae’s serveant, as well as Frieland’s. come, sit, eat: Kriger’s magic lets us keep a fire unobserved and, if the cold bites more deeply, I have prayers which will ward off the chill. Let us pool our knowledge and hatch our plans.”
He smiles and makes a small gesture with his holy symbol which anyone familiar with The Dawnflower will recognise as a gesture of gratitude for Her intervention.
" Rest assured we will help as we can, Lord. But do not ask of the items of which I was to appropriate, for they are Dark and Mysterious..."
Oberlin coughs and splutters at the muttered comment, not quite certain if Marcel is tweaking him or not.
"Thank you for your hospitality. I agree, let us work toward this shared purpose."
Hmmm...I didn't think about this, but throwing in my lot with this new Duke may be worth the gamble.
"Duke Lodovka, gentlemen, would it be possible to first explain who these captives are, and how you came to be hunting for them?"
I wonder what advantages we have that might be worthwhile. Oberlin thought, putting his intellect to work.
The Tiger Lords seems to have settled. This is the first time, since you've tracked them, that they stay in one place for longer than a night, and it's been a week or so.
The hills around you are quite steep, darkish-brown, and quite dry. Finding water and food has been a big issue. There are narrow defiles where ambush can be set, in particular for patrols, as the main force is not moving, but there are patrols from time to time, though they have been sparse and easy to avoid, thanks to Marcel's talents in particular.
You've heard of a legend regarding a barbarian-warrior of old who rose high enough to think he was above the gods. The gods after favouring him and competing for his worship, showed him who's boss. It is rumoured that his tomb lay in these hills.
Tiger Lords obey the strongest among them, and shun obvious displays of arcane magic. They are very superstitious.
Giants also obey the strongest. Having them side-by-side with humans with so little trouble must require either magical means, or amazing leadership.
It is not normal that Tiger Lords have such fancy equipment. Either they have a sponsor, or they stole the weapons.
Marcel grins as Oberlin coughs and sputters, '...worth half of what he owes me, just for that...'
"Many thanks, Lords." He says with a slight bow. "Truth be told, we were running low on food and water, not expecting such a large group to be in our way. Master Kriger was mostly correct: I do not know the layout of the camp in it's entirety, but I do have precise knowledge of their perimeter and their patrol rotations. That's as far as I got before this. With some time, I can get exactly what you...we...need to get those people out."
" Rest assured we will help as we can, Lord. But do not ask of the items of which I was to appropriate, for they are Dark and Mysterious..."Oberlin coughs and splutters at the muttered comment, not quite certain if Marcel is tweaking him or not.
"Thank you for your hospitality. I agree, let us work toward this shared purpose."
Hmmm...I didn't think about this, but throwing in my lot with this new Duke may be worth the gamble.
"Duke Lodovka, gentlemen, would it be possible to first explain who these captives are, and how you came to be hunting for them?"
Giving a slap on the shoulder to Kalsgrim, "I got this, Chief." Turning to Oberlin, "Alright, there was a castle back there. Or a fort," he thinks on it a moment but then shakes it off, "Whatever. Anyway, there was this crazy chick, a queen or something, who I thought killed herself but she didn't but she's gonna die next time I see her, I promise you that," he nods adamantly. After a moments pause, "Oh right! I was explaining... The castle! Yeah. No! The captives! Okay. This chick was working with the Tiger Lords. And they had these children in bags and took off with them. A ton of them. A ton of Tiger Lords I mean. And probably a lot of kids too. Anyway, we tried to take as many down as we could - the Tiger Lords not the kids - but we just couldn't catch 'em all. We've tracked 'em to this point and now we've got to get 'em out," he explains. He then throws in, "The kids I mean, not the Tiger Lords," just to make sure he was clear. Thinking that's about it, he strokes his beard a moment or two before shaking his head in what looks like annoyance. Looking over at Kalsgrim, "Tell 'em, Chief," he gives him a nod before crossing his arms and scratching the side of his face as he looks off in the distance. You know, Kriger, there's a reason you don't do this part. Because you stink at it! Crying out loud. The ranger rolls his eyes at himself.
Oberlin looks askance at Lodvoka and Malaswyn in turn before glancing back to the ranger. "So to sum up: At a castle there was a crazy queen who appeared to commit suicide who is currently working with the Tiger Lords. During this event, some number of Tiger Lords made off with children in bags." Oberlin said, summingly.
"Why kidnap the children? Leverage, sacrifice, new warriors? Who is this "queen", and is she someone we should be wary of? Why have the Tiger Lords stopped here?" he asked.
Scratching at his beard, the ranger can only shake his head. "That's a real good question. Not sure why they took them. But as far as this queen goes, I saw her fall from about three stories up. The only reason I saw it is because she wouldn't shut up. She just kept rambling on about something or other and finally she jumped. 'Bout time too because man I was tired of listening to her. Anyway, once the Tiger Lords who we couldn't take down got away, we returned to the scene and her body was gone. As if it was never there. No blood no nothing. Don't know how she did it but she did," he shrugs.
"Kids? They took the kids?" Marcel asks incredulously. "Why is it always the kids?" He runs his hands through his white, unkempt hair. "Well now. Your information isn't going to find itself. When do I go?"
"Two immediate options present themselves as we sit here discussing." Oberlin said, as he found a camp chair leaning up against a nearby pole, unfolded it and sat down wearily.
"This was easier years ago." he muttered to himself.
"The first option is discerning the location that the leader...Armag...is looking for, and assuming that the children are to be used for some nefarious purpose, intercept them either as they are taken to the site, or at the location itself."
"The second is that we utilize the dry ravines and terrain near here to ambush one of the patrols, draw off a large group of warriors from the camp and then assault to rescue the children." he said. "Unfortunately its likely that we would also encounter the captains and those priests that are in the camp if we do an assault."
"I vote: none of the above." Marcel says quietly. "We need more information. I can get it."
The prideful ranger speaks out, "Whoa now hold on a sec! Now you mean to say, 'you and Kriger', right, Chief? 'Cause he's not going alone. I'm going with him. I know I can scout this place out just as well as he can and two pairs of eyes are better than one. C'mon now, you know I'm right," he nods several times. "What if he gets caught? Then he's got no one to bail him out. But if ol' Kriger's there...," he holds pause a moment to let it sink in and then finishes with, "I'm just sayin'."
Malaswyn cannot hold back a small smile, "In the morning, I might be able to offer some magical assistance to our scouts. However, if time is of the essence, perhaps our scouting should be completed this evening?"
The elf looks out, into the distance, "These young women, we cannot simply whisk them away when powerful spellcasters are part of the Tiger Lord's retinue. Malaswyn's plan seems the soundest, unless we learn something more."
For the rest of the day, you move your camp to Marcel and Oberlin's camp, so three hours closer to the raiders' camp, meaning about an hour away now, but well hidden, thanks to Marcel's fine work.
The next morning, before dawn, Kriger and Marcel set out to implement the first part of the plan, which is to scout the area and get a sense of the camp's layout, in particular in relation to the tomb, if possible.
The morning is frosty and your breath condenses in the early hours of dawn. The sky is clear and a soft blue highlighted by pink clouds, but you pay little attention to it, for you are in barbarian territory, with a thousand of them ready to spring upon you should they know where to hit.
”Unfortunately gentlemen, nothing I can do at this moment will be that useful to you. By the time you get to the camp, anything I would have done would be dissipated.” he says regretfully.
"No worries, Big O, we got this," he gives a wink and a nod and readies to head out.
You move swiftly, if carefully,, but lose your way a few times in the cobweb of narrow defiles. Gaining altitude would help, but it would also help getting spotted, so you forego pace, for now.
After two hours, you arrive in sight of the raiders' camp. Without elevation, it is relatively hard to make out its configuration. Nonetheless, this is what you can make out from your spot:
-Facing you (north) is the raiders' camp. It stretches between two hills.
-The hill east is very steep, almost a cliff, and you can hear a waterfall. The sound of water makes you realize how thirsty you both are. This place is dry. Dry and cold.
-The hill west is low and spread, slowly rising to a very low altitude, in particular compared to the facing hill, and the gist of the camp spreads on it.
-The camp has no proper defense walls, but the terrain is rocky. The entrance to the camp is through the defile in which you are. This part has some kind of crude walls assembled from piled rocks.
-The entrance is guarded by a group of twenty barbarians and two giants. They are laughing and eating, not paying much attention.
-Moving around would require easy climbing, but would leave you exposed and easier to spot.
After getting a count of who they see, he looks to Marcel, "You think we can take 'em?" He then takes another look for good measure before returning his attention back to Marcel, "Yeah never mind. I guess we'd probably lose; which, you know, would suck." His mind then starts churning in an attempt to find some kind of solution to this. Shaking his head, his anger is clear upon his face. "You gotta be kiddin' me! How in the Nine Hells do we get a multitude of people out of there with giants as part of their army?! Those stinking barbarians were bad enough." He looks again to the small army and can't help but fume in frustration... albeit as quietly as possible.