" Could just.. burn the bodies y'know? "
Neils shrugs, "Yeah I suppose so."
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"Burning them is probably the quickest and most effective solution. If we bury them it would have to be deep enough that local scavengers and predators wouldn't smell the decomposition."
" Well then lets get ta' work! We can toss the ashes below after a few days, takes a while for the body to break down! Get that archer who lived tied up with the rest while we wait. " Sugua began the process of getting the bodies ready for a pyre.
" Warning for the faint of heart.. this is going to smell.. Bad... Or its' gunna smell delicious.. either or. "
Khargol snorts as he turns to gather some dead, dry material suitable for burning from the edge of the forest.
"As the humans say...this is not my first rodeo."
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Sugua chuckles, " HAHA! I wouldn't have known from the way you acted before.. The world has much to teach me then. When was the last time you had to do this?! I have to say it's only been my 12th.. normally we left the bodies to the wolves. " He slammed a corpse on top of another.
Donovan moves near the pile and takes his holy symbol in hand. As the brutal work of stacking bodies into a mass pyre commences, he murmurs a series of repeated paeans, something like this:
"Now that we return this mortal vessel to the earth, let its essence find it final reward in the realms eternal. May the Powers grant each their due in measure accorded to their trespasses."
He repeats this process as each cadaver makes its way onto the pile.
Images of the dead villagers' bodies being piled up for burning after the Omenstar's Promise had wrung the last of their bloody fluids from them flicker before Durielle's vision. She sways slightly on her feet, but finds the resolve to move forward just as she did then.
She focuses on the gathering of the wood for the pyre and providing some instruction on how to lay the wood and the bodies to allow even distribution instead of a random pile if anyone listens. Otherwise the elf remains reflective and says little as they prepare for their week of waiting.
Vladimir silently helps Donovan stack bodies.
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Sugua made sure to advise on a way to cut off the enemies escape. They would want to lead them in much like the very first trap when the group came to the Greenbelt. Lure them in with false pretenses, take them by surprise. Rush them from far and close before they had time to react and then clean up. He however did stress something important, Kressle was an -Factor and at anytime could make the situation go badly. Those with healing should stay relatively close, just in case.
Other than that he went along the materials made himself up to look like the standard bandits around. Gathered arrows and sharpened his blade. At night he always looked out the surrounding area. Never knew when there might be an ambush.
Alphonse listened closly as Sugua went over the plan and lay out, after the runnins they have had Sugua always knew what he was doing and kept his head on, Alphonse trusted his judgment and would play his part. when they were not planning Alphonse took a little time to talk to the bandits they were keeping captive for the time being, asked them what lead them to this life if any would listen and genuninly showed interest in them and their well being while under the parties care.
Each bandit will talk with Alphonse in some degree about their pasts.
Neils was caught with a nobleman's wife and had to flee Brevoy.
Gregori was just a hunter and trapper before being captured.
Handal was drafted into the Rostland army before he deserted with his fiance, she grew ill on their journey and passed before arriving in the Greenbelt. Without his fiance to make a life with, he joined the Bandits.
The last name the others called the Skene was a small time crook and thief in Brevoy before he escaped jail and headed south.
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Sugua asks the Bandits, particularly Neils , a question. It had seemed to appear out of the blue but had some reasoning behind it. " I was curious.. have you ever seen Kressle let loose.. Y'know? Have some fun with.. anyone? Actually while we are on the subject, have you ever seen her fight? "
"Yeah." says Neils, "Came across an Agent of the Stag Lord a while back. Kressle decided to kill him to rile up the boss."
"Those guys are supposed to be hard as nails, worth ten men in a fight, but he looked like he was on death's door the moment he stepped foot into the ring with Kressle."
"Anyways, some of the more ambitious or maybe just stupid among us, decided then would be a good time to try to take over."
"She carved them into pieces and the Agent just fled."
"She likes her demon wolf, that's about all I know when it comes to her." says Neils answering the other question.
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" I heard she used axes, she must be pretty ambitious herself. Why does Longfang follow her.. he seems pretty big, I see no reason it follow out of fear. I like her spunk though. Anyone like Kressle in particular at the Stag Lord's keep? Kressle sounds lonely, HAHA!"
"No idea as to why the wolf likes her, rumors about Kressle go around the camp a lot. Some say Kressle is actually the illegitimate child of the Stag Lord, and when her mother came to him about Kressle, he had the woman killed and left the baby in the woods to be devoured."
"They say Longfang found her and raised her, and that's why she hates the Stag Lord and he knows it, but doesn't kill her either."
"Personally I think it's ridiculous." finished Neils.
When the week ends the party sets their ambush, Khargol spotting the approaching the Bandits well before they make it to the camp, and with Durielle's profecies returning favorably, the trap is sprung.
The four men are taken completely by surprise and surrender as soon as one of them is laid low.
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Sugua taps one of the scared bandit on the face with his sword, the heat from the blade just leaving and the Half-Orc smiled. " Welcome back! This place is under new management. I'm sure you'll enjoy wwhat we've done with it! HAHA! "
shouldering his greatsword after, " Alright, You know the deal.. You tell us what we want to know, you might live longer! So.. What's been going on at the Stag lord's place? Whats the Code? "
Durielle offers to cast a spell granted to her by her mysterious patron which allows her to hear the things a person may possibly speak and see visions of things a person may possibly do. She has enough power to do this for each of the new prisoners in an effort to assist with the interrogation by perhaps helping to determine when they lie.
Sugua raises a brow at Durielle. " You weren't wrong about this fight.. it was easy.. and boring. "
Sugua goes through the motions, he's dealt with bandits before. He knew generally their fears, wants, dreams and mindset. It made this job easy. Realistically he knew he would get the information just how long it would take. Setting his blade on fire and holding it close-by couldn't hurt... well, at least not him.
" C'mon now, talk up, we aint got all day..! "
The sight of Durielle fumbling through entrails, covering herself in blood and via her Coughing, the Bandits by proxy; combined with Sugua's very obvious intention to brand them with her sword quickly loosens the men's tongues.
"Whoa! Hang on now! Who are you all, where is Kressle!? Is she behind this?"
"Nevermind that." interrupts another. "Whatever you want to know. Stag Lord wants his drink, that's why we're here."
"Weird things been going on there recently, people disappearing when on watch. It's got the boss spooked."
"The password is Rotgut Whiskey"
"What else do you want to know!?"
Durielle can detect most of the surface thoughts of the Bandits to be an assortment of fear of being harmed and lamenting their bad luck of being sent here.
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Khargol almost laughs at the password. "For someone who inspires such fear amongst the Greenbelt's denizens you'd think he could come up with a less obvious pass-code. Perhaps he has become more hung up on his booze than people know. All the better; it will make it easier for us."
"Your Kressle is a coward. As soon as all her subordinates were felled, she ran into the woods with her pet. Never did more than shoot a few arrows at us and left the rest of her troop to die." he adds as he approaches group, eying all of them for a few moments.
Khargol approaches the last bandit, the one who asked what else they wanted to know, and slowly draws his longsword, plunging it into the ground at the bandit's feet, the blade close enough to the man's face that it blocks the vision from one eye, Khargol's face half-hidden by the blade as he kneels in front of the man, his face a grim mask.
"I want to know more about your 'Stag Lord.' How many men guard him, and where? What makes you all fear him so? What has caused him to turn to a bottle? What about the disappearances have spooked him? What pisses him off? Most important for you, though...now that you have seen us, why the hells should we let you live instead of throwing you into this gully as my compatriot did with Jahenas last week?"
Sugua makes a gesture at the arrow wounds in his chest to solidify the claim. " Well.. a coward or smart.. either or. Oh and while I'm here.. anyone liked Jahenas? "
The men look to Khargol, clearly intimidated, but he responds, "Iffin' you didn't kill Kressle then that's all that matters, yeh? Who wants to be called courageous and dead?"
The man begins a mock scenario, "Hey'n you all, ya hear about ole' boy Rusty? Yeh, it's a real shame. Got ganged up on by ten or fifteen long arm of the law types, you hear? He coulda ran, but he fought and died... Courageously."
The man immediately puts his hands up and shakes then, showing no sign of trying to offend, "Anyways, so the she-wolf lives."
"Stag Lord's camp, being about twenty, maybe twenty-five miles south o' here, straight shot."
"As for what makes us fear 'em, you ever see a man, a man you is knowing has less morals than you, and less ta lose? That's a dangerous man. Now make 'im drunker than all hell and worth twenty of ya-self in a fight. You had damned well be scared."
"And I don't know why e' drinks, always has."
"Must be about forty of us down at the camp, not including ourselves, mind. People been disappearing on watch like I had been sayin'. Nothing too peculiar, some folk abandon camp when they're on watch, figurin' they'd get a head start to run away or what have you."
"Nah, what's got the boss worked up over that, is the large amount of blood left over."
"And I don't know what pisses him off, no booze? Looking at him? Being in his way when he is trying to go somewhere? I could list less things that didn't seem to upset him."
"Lastly, I'd appreciate not being thrown into a gully."
Turning to Sugua now, the man says "Jahenas be the one who came down with Lucan, yeh?" The man shrugs, "Seemed alright to me, didn't talk much."
The other men shrug and nod at the others words.
Alphonse not being an intimidating sort watches with a smile as his friends get all the information they ask for and then some. this job isnt ever easy, but occasionally they get thrown a bone
" Eh, sounds like Rusty died a good death then! As long as it was fun I suppose.. Sometimes you dont get the choice to run. Hell the only difference between the strong and the weak is the strong get to choose when they get to die. "
Sugua rubbed his chin, " Well I was askin about Jahenas because he is at the bottom of that ravine. He preyed on children, y'know. Terrible Liar, it was funny we he screamed on the way down. Anyway I think you all earned your right to live. I'll give you the same deal I gave these guys over here "
Pointing to Niels, " When we are done there ain't gunna be a Stag Lord.. or.. at least not like him. "
Despite the party's desire to stay in Kressle's camp they soon find themselves low on supplies as they had not stocked up for such an extended outing the last time they left from Oleg's.
Upon their arrival they're greeted by numerous new faces who have come to the trading post since their departure, as well as some familiar ones such as Svetlana, Trent and of course, Oleg.
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A short Halfling man, well dressed and well groomed, sits along in a corner, legs danging off of the table he has propped himself on, tuning his lute quietly. When he is content that each string is in agreement, he begins to play, quietly at first, but steadily getting louder, till he begins to sing.
"My home is waiting there for me,
and the girl I left behind.
Of all the treasure that waits for me,
that’s what I want to find.
Her eyes so merry, and her smile so sweet,
her hugs so warm, and her ankle neat,
her kisses hot, now there’s a treat.
If there’s a treasure greater, it lies not in my mind."
If his words catch slightly, at least his playing is flawless, his fingers dancing over the strings fluidly, seeking and finding every note. He ceases singing and focuses on the thrill of playing for that is the important part, the music itself. As the song reaches its crescendo he smiles, closing his eyes and listening, hearing the instrument rather than seeing it. He finishes with a flourish before sitting back, opening his eyes again and laughing.
"Sorry, I got kind of carried away there," He smiled, glancing up at those who just entered. "Miro ir'Garvin is the name. Anyone got any requests...?"
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An unkempt woman, really not much more than girl, sits in the corner watching the rest of the outpost. Nearby is a hardly disturbed flagon of ale, and next to that is a large book which she appears to have been reading before the adventurers arrived. On the bench next to her is a large backpack with all the usual accouterments one would expect for a novice adventurer. What her skills are is unapparent, however, it is clear that she does not have a great deal of experience in the wilds of the stolen lands.
The group that comes wandering back into Oleg's is probably quite the sight to the newcomers, disheveled and light on supplies after their extended trek into the wilderness. Khargol seems very glad for the sight of Svetlana, Trent, and Oleg, happy that the outpost has seen yet no retaliation from any of the banditry that has been dispatched recently.
Upon seeing the other new faces, Khargol rests his hand on the pommel of his sword. "I assume you are not enemies, given the welcome we have received from the owners of the fort. Should you be explorers, be warned. We have lost many from those who started this journey with us, be it to simple fatigue or actual death. There is safety in numbers, so if you wish to travel with us, I will be glad for the extra manpower. However, the Stolen Lands are no place for the weak or faint-hearted. You will get shot, stabbed, bitten, stung, mauled, and otherwise injured. Probably often. I hope at least one of you is a healer."
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"By the gods... Shot, stabbed, beaten, stung AND mauled!" Miro arches an eyebrow, standing up, atop the table he is sitting on, and stretching. "So you would be the ones who are protecting this here trading post would you? Yes I see... interesting!" He studied the disheveled group of adventurers before smiling and nodding.
"I'll aid you if you will have me. And as for healing, I have a little aye!" He nodded. resting the bowl of his lute on the table by his side, holding it loosely by the head.
"Tis a dangerous place, no doubt you all know that, I can see by the state of your armors, so aye it be safer to travel in numbers. I'll provide some inspiration to keep you all in fighting spirit and maybe some music to keep you all that little bit happier," He held out his hand towards Khargol, "do we have a deal, Master Orc-kin?"
A towering hulk of a man with broad shoulders and the frame of a tree is sitting on a precariously small stool, loose grin on his face as he taps his foot along to the music. He has straight, light-brown hair that he keeps combed back but otherwise hangs free to the nape of his neck. There are numerous scars on his arms and chest and even a few on his face, but his deep brown eyes and easy-going grin gives him a rugged handsomeness despite his somewhat crooked nose. On his back is a massive earthbreaker as well as a wicked looking battleaxe, and he has four chakrams strapped to his arms and legs.
He listens to the warning from the formal half-orc and grins, standing up and nearly grazing the roof. "My name is Maekrix Thatheo, and these lands are what I grew up in. I'm going to keep peace between the civilized people and the wildlings." He grins again at healing. "I do what you'd call proactive healing. I'll kill your enemies before they can hurt you in the first place."
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Kailee looks at the large half-orc with some surprise, while such half-breeds are not uncommon in Restov, they are not common either and she has had few dealings with them. On the other hand, she has read more than a few stories of the orcs from the Hold of in Belkzen and knows what they are rumored to be capable of. Considering this for a moment, she decides that until she has a chance to interact with such a creature? person?, she will not know the truth of the stories.
Suddenly realizing that several of the other individuals in the outpost, including the recently singing bard, have spoken up and shown interest in joining with this half-orc, she takes a deep breath and slides forward so that she can be seen better.
Um, I . . . I can heal. Not like true priests. But, I . . . I know how to make healing drinks. Um, some will even restore energy that has been drained from you.
Um, do you really get stabbed and mauled? It is clear that she does not consider this to be the optimal outcome from wandering into the wilderness. I also know a lot about many things. And . . . and, um, well, I can blow things up sometimes. It is clear that she is unsure whether this last talent should be considered a positive or a negative.
Unsure what else to say, the young woman ceases talking and waits for the big half-orc to respond to any of those who have spoken.
Maekrix roars a laugh and puts a reassuring hand on the healer's shoulder. "See these scars? That means I'm the one who gets stabbed. As long as you stand behind me I promise to take your share of the stabbing too, long as you use your magic to get me back up!"
Miro springs off of the table he is standing on, and lands lightly atop the one before Maekrix. As he moved, a grey and white dog slips out from under the table Miro had been standing on, and walks over to sniff around the new table. "Sit Cerberus!" Miro smiled down at his riding dog, before turning and looking up at the huge man, before his eyes moves to the shy girl who had just spoken.
"I can teach you to hide really well too. It is good for us non huge warriors to stick together. Though I must say, if I was as big as Maekrix here, I'd already own the world!" Miro planted a hand against the tall mans side and leaned against him. "See... he isn't even moving. I may as well be a fly!" He grinned, hoping to cheer the woman up.
Maekrix smiles, apparently not bothered at all by being used as a wall by the halfling. "Oh no, I've tried my hand at ruling. I'm going to leave that to the little, smart people."
Miro frowns slightly, a small smile playing across his face. "Funny... I was going to leave it to the tall and strong." He grinned, offering the tall man his hand. "A pleasure to meet you Maekrix, I am Miro, Miro ir'Garvin!"
Almost as if watching for the right moment at the words, another Halforc with folded arms and an intricate red tattoo along his upper body laughs, " HAHA! It's seems we have a bunch of fresh meat here! Khargol there introduced you all to the crash course but its not wrong! You'll have all those things happen to ya' there is not guarantee of Survival. "
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Kailee looks at the second half-orc to enter the room, this one also bearing a repertoire of weapons, in fact he seems to have even more means to kill someone strapped to him than does the large scarred human.
Having someone between me and harm is good. But, I prefer not getting hurt. If I had to, I think I would shoot someone before he got close enough to hurt me. She then points at a large number of beakers and flasks and all sorts of other strange accouterments attacked to her pack. Or, just making bad guys go BOOM is always an option.
Sugua raised a brow and the waifish little human spoke, his completely white eyes giving the odd half-orc a menacing appearance as he smiled showing his tusks. " Good Goood! Proactive is the best! What was your name little pinkskin? Are you cityraised? You look tender, I've already seen my share of weaklings, Khargol even changed for the better HAHA! " Sugua motioned in the direction of the other half-orc.
"Seems like a good enough option to me. I hope explosives work the same as fire does against trolls...though if you've some acid flasks that would make it a moot point. Though frankly I'll probably just hope we don't have to fight four trolls at once again. We don't have a grease-casting kobold to keep them tripping all over themselves any more."
Khargol gives a nod in Sugua's direction, though his expression remains fairly...well, unexpressive. "Khargol Uzgurn. What brings you all here? The Swordlords' summons or just looking for adventure?"
Miro took a seat on the table, arm propped up on his knee, chin resting on his hand. He yawned slightly, watching the larger races converse among themselves was always a little tiring. 'So tall and so loud. May the gods bless em all!'
As they spoke he slipped down off of the table, vanishing from view completely as he slipped back over to the original table he had been seated at, and began to organize his equipment. He pulled the repeating Crossbow from its case in his bag and fitted it together with a practiced hand, before sealing everything back up.