Annika steps in closer to the newly arrived woman. "You must be the leader then," she says. "Well, I don't suppose that you'd entertain the option to surrender anymore than your men would. Oh well. Let's see if you're actually any good with those axes."
At Creon's remark Holgar looks over towards the camp to check on the others, just in time to see the woman swing down and attack the most recent of the Elves that had been popping into his rather insane as of late life. "Oi archer-boy I believe now might be a good time, unless of course you don't mind our friends getting a bit to comfy with the business end of an axe. Or two."
Holgar will fire one last bolt at the archers that have been shooting at him and Creon; then he'll start moving to a position where he can fire into the camp, preferably while staying in cover.
Annika's blade slices into the bandit woman, who reels back from the force of her blow. Unlike her men, however, she seems relatively unfazed by the attack, still squaring off to attack Annika and Gallidren. Holgar's bolt launches straight into a man's chest, who stumbles back away from the railing, but fails to fall.
Theo brings his sword around again, cutting a deep gash through the thigh of the bandit closest to him, but fails to put him down. He brings his shield up before him, beating the pommel of his blade against the front of it.
-----
One of the two men still standing, the bandit with Holgar's bolt in his chest yell as the dwarf races towards the camp. "Take 'im down!" he yells, and another chorus of twangs resound through the forest as three more crossbow bolts fly towards Holgar. While one again fails to find its mark, another whizzes past the dwarf's arm, opening a small gash along his bicep.
Of the two bandits on the far edge of the camp. they both rush forward towards Prophet, their blades swinging in wide arcs towards the half-orc. One's blade is deflected off of Prophet's greatsword, and the half-orc feels the muscles in his arm protest as he takes the brunt of the blow. The other swing comes in under his guard, raking him across the gut and coming away red with Prophet's blood. Both stand in front of the half-orc, their swords held up in wariness of counter-attack.
The bandit attacked by Theo manages to scramble past the Paladin, bringing his blade up to strike at Annika. While he fails to slash her across the back as he planned, his sword leaves a gash along the back of her leg as he brings it back into a defensive position.
Creon nods to Holgar, fires his own arrow at the partner of Holgar's target, then sets off behind Holgar toward the camp.
Prophet lets out a roar of anger and then pain, as his focus shifts from the woman running out into the clearing to the bandits attacking him. He doubles over from the gut slash for a moment, but the power of the Kordator fills him with strength, and he brings his sword up once again, slashing viciously at the bandit who injured him so.
Still bleeding profusely, Prophet manages to swing his sword up and around, cleaving the head of one of his attackers clean from his shoulders. The body drops into the dust, and the man's severed head lands beyond the tree stump, coming to a rest several feet away. As Prophet roars, the second bandit raises his sword, trying to keep his distance from the half-orc, a look of fear in his eyes. Creon's arrow catches one of the archers in the chest as well, but despite the obvious grunt of pain, it appears the man is still standing. Not far from them, the second guard post finally erupts into flame, burning quickly alongside the first.
Galidren withdraws and double moves over to the stunned bandits.
The woman grins, taking a swing for Annika when she reacts to the bandit behind her. Her handaxe catches the half-elf in the back, and when the bandit woman wrenches it away, Annika falls to the ground and the woman hoists her bloody axe towards the party. "You made your last f*ckin' mistake, y'hear me?" She laughs, then moves towards Theo and Gallidren with her bloodied hatchet held high. "Let's kill the bastards!" one of the men shouts, clearly emboldened from watching Annika fall before their leader.
When Holgar sees Annika fall he lets out a grunt of annoyance, he may not know his fellows that well yet but they definitely don't deserve to fall here. not to mention that it means less bodies between himself and that axe. Holgar runs behind a tree a safe distance from the fighting and fires and the crazy axe lady if he has a clear shot, if not he'll fire at whoever is the cleanest shot.
After watching his ally fall to the bandit woman, Theo brings his sword to bear against the woman. "My allies will not fall this day. To the Nine Hells with you!" he roars, as his sword erupts with holy light. He knocks her own hatchet aside and then swipes his longsword across her chest, leaving a bloody wound in his wake. She clutches at it with her open hand, but stays standing to confront her foes. Theo squares off again, his holy fury giving him renewed vigor. "Face me, or are you such a coward you would hide behind your men?"
-----
As Holgar dashes behind a tree stump, he realizes that the bandit woman is obscured by Prophet and mired in combat. Instead he takes aim at the bandit still harassing Prophet, sending him tumbling to the ground with a bolt through his throat. Though Annika appears to be grievously wounded, she does not appear to be bleeding out any time soon. The last of the bandits other than their leader tries to circle again behind Theo, but trips over the dead bodies of his companions. Theo swings around at the man, but fails to connect. Quickly bringing his sword back around, he catches the man across the chest, putting him down in his tracks as he attempted to outmaneuver the party.
Sensing the battle is reaching its turning point, Creon throws caution to the winds, and moves up to protect Prophet's flank. He picks one of the nearer targets and fires.
(apply -4 if into melee)
Prophet only presses the attack as he beheads one man and sees Annika fall to the axe-wielding woman. Most of him cries out to attack her, the clear leader and most challenging foe, but he maintains control and simply assaults the next of the bandits in line. Content yourself to revel in all bloodshed.
Prophet moves towards the next bandit, but as Theo cuts him down he instead focuses his attack on the woman assaulting Theo. While he doesn't manage to put her down, in her injured state she fails to turn his blade aside completely and he opens a gash across her stomach, lending another wound to her bleeding frame. She hunches over, holding her wounds. "Y'might kill me, but the Stag Lord'll put you upstarts down." She snarls at Theo, clearly trying to decide her next avenue of attack.
Gallidren takes a 5' step back and then fires his bow at Kressle.
The arrow catches Kressle between the shoulder blades, and she stumbles forward from the force of the impact. "You bloody f*ckin'... boys! Kill 'em!" she shouts, before realizing as she looks around that all her men are unconscious or put to the sword. "'Jes f*ckin'... great. Lousy bastards couldn't win a fight with double their numbers. She scowls as she looks at the party, then to the woods. For a moment she looks to run away, but thinks better of it when she spies Holgar and Creon moving forward, weapons drawn. "You gonna kill me now, huh? Put me to the sword, just like the rest of 'em?" She glares, especially Prophet and Theo. After a moment, she drops her hatchet into the dirt, uneasily raising her hands in defeat. "Fine. I surrender. Do yer f*ckin' worst."
As she raises her hands, the men whom Gallidren incapacitated begin to stir. While they appear to still be unconscious, it seems they may be about to come to their senses. "Ugh... where 'is everybody? Did the campfire go out?" One of them blinks his eyes, waving his hands in front of his face. While he seems to be regaining consciousness, he is still clearly blinded by Gallidren's spell. The rest of the camp lies in disarray, with one bandit having plunged into the campfire, slowly burning. The rest lie scattered, their weapons and armor either still clasped in their dying hands, or thrown from them when they were struck down.
What do you do?
Prophet heaves a few more breaths as Kressle throws down her weapons. His muscles flex and relax, his fists clench around the hilt of his sword, and for a moment it seems he's going to run the woman through. When she makes her final comment, though, he finally acts decisively, once again plunging his sword through a bandit's corpse. He then grabs Kressle by the collar and hauls her close, where he snarls in her face.
"Ḿy ͝wors͘t?̸ ͜Y͜ou can't͞ ͡even҉ b̢e͢gin t͠o͞ i͝ma͘gine ̷t̨hat.̀ ̧An̡d ͞I'll ̶k̛e̵èp̢ ̶i͘t҉ ̕that̵ way͘ on͜ on͏e̵ ̧con͢d̵it̸io̴n͜." With a quick move, Prophet kicks out one of her knees from the front, not hard enough to break the joint, but enough to cause a spike of pain and drive the woman from her feet. "Ẃ͡H͠O̕͟ ͢͝͡I̢͢S̴̢̀ ͞TH́͏̕È̶͞ ̨̨S̨͟͡T̵A̸G̵̕ ҉L̡̨͝Ò͟R͡D͢͝? ̢͞W̸͞H̶̛ÈRE ̶̨͘I͏͠͠S͘ ͢͡H́E?̷"
Creon moves forwards to the first of the prone bandits.
"Assertion: unless anyone has any objections, and given that we are yet to receive a surrender, my opinion is that we should simply dispatch these individuals. I have spent too much time with their like, and I can assure everyone that that they hold the lives of others - human or otherwise - to be of little value. We would be doing the Stolen Lands a considerable favour by subtracting these brigands from their population. And we should be free to tend to our wounded."
"I agree with the archer, at the very least we should put some of these poor f#ckers out of their misery."
Kressle lets out a gasp when Prophet kicks out her leg, the pain clearly almost sending her into unconsciousness. Still, she maintains a stern glare with Prophet, almost spitting her words out to him. "Who's the Stag Lord? Ya ain't been out here long, 'ave ya? He's been runnin' the Stolen Lands for months, ever since he showed up. Don't know where e'came from, nobody does." She looks over at the few bandits still alive, especially as Creon and Holgar suggest putting them down. "Y'know what they think? They think he's a demon. The think underneath that helm o'his, there's some f*ckin' hell beast. And I think they're right. He's gonna drag you all down int'a the Abyss. I watched 'im cleave a rival bandit leader in half at the waist with that sword o'his like it was nothin'." She coughs a few times, spraying a bit of blood onto Prophet's chest. She reaches a hand up to wipe the blood from her lips before continuing. "He ain't no normal man, y'understand me? You fools don't stand a chance."
Upon hearing Creon mention killing the men still on the ground, one of them pipes up. "S-surrender? I surrender! What's goin' on! I can't see nothin'! Kressle!"
Prophet slaps Kressle across the face--a hard, ringing backhand. A slap that shows dominance and dismissal. He then brings his head up and closes his eyes, breathing heavily as the veins in his neck stand out. Calm yourself. He exhales slowly and turns his gaze back to Kressle. "I ̕knǫw͘ o͠f̀ ͡t͡h͞e̢ Ştag ̵Lo͏rd̢'s̡ positio̸n. ̷I̡ ͢wąs ̶ask̛i̧ng͠ ͏f̶or̶ ̷h͟is ͘na͢me a͝n̶d ͘locàt̶i͞on͟.̸ ̸Bu͢t͞ cl҉e̸aving a͞ ̀m͏a͟n҉ i͢n͡ ͞ţw̛ó ̢wit̶h a̵ ͟s̵wip̧e ǫf̵ ̵h͝i͝s ͝bla͡d͞è?"
The half-orc gestures to the men he killed moments ago. "Perha̛p͜s ̴t͢o a̸ ̛l̛ul͢gi̵j͡ak͜ l͡i̛k̸e ̷y͢o͢u̵r̶s̢e̴lf, ́th̢is is im͡pr̶es͞s̕i͢v̨e̵. ̛But n͞o̢t҉ s̕o for me. ̷D͠o͝ ̢y̨o̶u h͢av͟e a̶n͘y͘ ús̴ȩf̡ul inf͜or̀maţi̷on?̀" Throughout this process he maintains a grip on Kressle's collar, making sure the woman doesn't try to escape.
Gallidren disarms all of the stunned bandits. "The fight's over - we have defeated your leader. You are now our prisoners. If you resist, we will kill you. Renounce your evil ways or we will put you to the sword!"
Creon stares at Gallidren.
"Clarification: the bandits are incoherent and any surrender cannot currently be held as binding. Some of them are badly wounded and we do not have sufficient healing resources for them. The only individual currently capable of bargaining on their behalf is their leader, who seems only intent on bluster. Despite your communication to them of an apparent choice, I do not believe we had taken a decision as to our actions regarding their future. My intention is still to kill them."
Creon retrieves a set of manacles from his pack.
"If we intend to keep the leader alive - and in this regard I repeat my opinion that we should not - we should bind her. Does she have anything we could use to help friend Annika?"
"I disagree," Theo says, sheathing his sword. "Our charter may allow for the execution of those showing no repentance, but these men now have a chance to make things right. If they refuse, I agree they must be put to the sword, but there is no reason to believe that none of them could be convinced to recount their previous ways." As Prophet continues to interrogate Kressle, he frowns. "Her, though... I don't know. I'm not sure there is any hope for her." He walks up to her, hands behind his back. "Did they say your name was Kressle? Tell me, what reason do we have to let you live? You give us no information, and I see no reason to believe you would come quietly and serve your time."
-----
"What you did ain't nothing, pigface," she spits up blood again, this time aiming for Prophet's face. "Sure, ya cut off a head or two, but you didn't draw your blade and cut a man in half, all before the man could raise 'is sword." She looks at Gallidren as he kicks away the few weapons the bandits have remaining. "I don't know 'is name. Ain't nobody who does, far as I know. And it wouldn't do ya no good, neither. They'd cut ya down before you got within 100 feet o'that fort."
"And as for you," she says, turning her head to talk to Theo. "I know your kind. Weak, merciful. Ismort's the same way, much as e'claims he left it behind. You'll keep me alive 'cause it's all you know how t'do, ain't it?" She sneers at Theo, blood still smeared on her lips and teeth. "And I ain't got nothin' that'll help yer friend. Hope she bleeds t'death on the ground."
Prophet slaps her again when she spits, and he clenches his fist several times. "Cle͜arly ̀no҉ o҉n͏e ̧t͠òld ̧yo̵u͢ ab̀out̕ ͞H̛a͟pp҉s͝.͝ A͡h ̢well.͜" He looks to Theo and shakes his head, almost clearly echoing Kressle's own thoughts to some extent. "S̸h͏e i̡sn̛'͞t͞ ́giv̵i͢n͘ģ us̢ i̷nfo̧rma̧t̨io͘n,̸ s̀h̛e̡'̡s͜ c͝l͟ea͞rly̷ too dan͏ge̷rou͡s͠ ͡to ͟leţ liv͘e̸ as she ͝is̶, ̀bu͠t̨ ͘we҉ ̨d̵o͞n̕'t͝ ͟w͠a͟nt t̨o put̢ her ͞t͏o ҉death͏.̧ ͜S̡ơ ̴here'͢s͟ wh͢at͏ ͜w̸e͠'̧ļl d̸o̧."
The half-orc quickly grabs one of Kressle's arms with one hand, and grabs his greatsword with another. With a growl, he brings the blade around in a vicious arc and slashes through the woman's arm near the wrist, severing her hand. He lets her go with a slight shove, glaring down at the bloody stump before turning his eyes to hers.
"T͟el̵l͘ ͞u̡s ̢w̴hat͠ yơu ha̶ve to he̷a͘l̛ t͞h́e̡ hal̵f̸-elf,̶ ̕a͞n̢d͞ ҉w̡here̴ t͞he̴ Ştag ̧L̷or̶d'̨s ̶f͞o͡r͟t is, and ͢y̡o͜u͏ ̧g̛ęt͞ ̧t̷o ke̶ep th͟e͠ ơt͡her̨ o͘n̨è." It's clear in Prophet's voice that the offer will only be given once.
Gallidren shakes his head at Creon, "We are not cold-hearted killers my friend. As Theo says, we must offer a chance at redemption."
Gallidren looks around for anything that can be used to bind the bandits. "Does anyone have rope?"
He then does what he can to bind Annika's wounds. "Does anyone have any healing? If not, we must get her to a healer."
"F*CK!" Kressle screams, falling on the ground, clutching her bloody stump close to her body. "F*ck you! You piece of... f*ck!" Her breathing is heavier now, and she is clearly on the cusp of passing out from the pain. "I ain't tellin' you sh*t, y'hear me?" She scoots away from Prophet and Theo, pushing herself back with her legs. She snarls at the both of them, reaching her good hand behind her. "Just wait, pigface. Your friend there's gonna make you keep me alive, y'know that, right? And I'm gonna kill the both of ya, and he ain't gonna do nothin' 'bout it. Spineless little wretch, and there's nothin' you can do 'bout it."
Theo sighs and shakes his head. "Then my hands are tied. It seems she has chosen her fate." He turns his back to the woman, closing his eyes. "I could have saved you. Do... do as you must, Malaz."
At that, Kressle's eyes widen. "You... you can't do that! You have a f*ckin' code! You're not gonna let me die! You're too weak!" She keeps crawling bakckwards, however, but doesn't seem to much have the strength to rise off the ground. She looks to the handaxe, lying on the ground not ten feet away, and looks as if she's about to make a move for it.
When she goes to steady herself, she seems to be trying to discreetly draw something from pouch on the back of her belt. However, since it's behind her, it's hard to tell what it might be, other than the fact that it's small.
Prophet shrugs and steps forward, planting a foot on her stomach. When he speaks, his voice is no longer raging: it has only the cold, emotionless tone of death. "A̷ ̶҉d͘e͢al̴'͜s̶̨҉ ͘a̵ ͜d͞e̵a͡l͜.́͢͝" He kicks out her other elbow and plants his foot on her palm, then grunts as he swings his sword down. Another spurt of blood jets out over his boot, and Kressle's second hand joins her first in lying on the ground. Prophet then rams his sword straight down through the woman's stomach, just under her ribcage. She isn't quite dead yet--she's pinned to the ground and her spine is severed, but she'll have time to realize what's happened for a moment before bleeding out.
"S͢ay̡ ̛h͢éll͘o ҉t͡o̸ ̀ţh̶e͝ Ab̡ỳss̨ ̕f̷or̶ me̷,̕ ̢w͝i̛ļl̸ you?" With that he reaches behind her and grabs whatever she was reaching for as he watches the woman die.
Theo winces as he hears the sword slam into her gut, not turning around until he hears her stop to struggle. He sighs again when he sees the body, walking past her towards Annika. "Give me a moment, I... I may be able to help." He leans down, uttering a prayer to Sarenrae. "Lady of the Dawnflower, I ask that you bless this woman with your healing light so that she might once again before the darkness and corruption to be found in these lands." For a moment, nothing happens, but then his hands begin to glow with a golden light, and her wounds begin to mend and stitch together. After only a few seconds, only thin red lines mark where the swordlord-in-training had been struck. "I... was not sure that would work. She should awaken in a moment."
With that, the paladin stands and faces Kressle's now lifeless body. While he doesn't seem to show any remorse, the sadness is plain on his face. "When you begin your training, they tell you the hardest part of being a Paladin is that you cannot save everyone. That is not true. The hardest lesson is that not everyone wants to be saved.""
Annika groggily regains consciousness, slowly sitting up. She looks around and sighs. "It seems that I missed the action," she says, looking a little disgruntled. She looks over at Kressle. "And quite a bit more."
Prophet turns to regard the paladin, and he watches him for a long moment before saying anything. When he does, his voice is his own, if only for now. "The hardest part of life here is that you can only save one person. Yourself. She chose not to."
While the others are dealing with Kressle Hogar is going to start looking through the campsite for anything that might be used for healing, it would definitely be useful in the future, glowing hands be damned. He will of course pocket anything else he may come across that may be worth keeping. "Sorry boys but you keep what you kill. Now, potions potions, you've got to have some damn potions around here somewhere."
Creon turns back to Gallidren "Response: You may choose to offer them a chance. As I said, that is not my choice. I would remind you that one person here has already dispatched a prone victim during the battle. So spare me your platitudes, if you will. As for the priest, I have as little interest in what his gods may tell him as you and he seem to have in my opinion."
Creon considers for a moment just shooting the remaining brigands anyway, but decides to bide his time.
"Conclusion: If you want to keep them as pets, go ahead and bind them. I have no interest in them."
He returns the manacles to his pack, unshoulders it and sits.
"That might be true, but I choose not to believe it." Theo says, looking to the bandits still picking themselves up off the ground. "But I choose not to think so. The Dawnflower encourages us all to strive for redemption in all things, even others." He looks at Kressle again, wincing again at the gory scene. "She... could not be helped. But there is nothing to say these men, or those still at the trading post, cannot."
As Holgar scrounges up anything he can seem to find in the campsite, he comes across a large stock of (likely stolen) items stored inside various sacks and cases. In addition to a large amount of coin, he finds a number of items such as a pair of silver earrings, an ornately crafted music box, a few crates of furs and hide, and other such items. Beneath them, a polished wooden case appears to be holding eight carefully packed bottles of a greenish herbal liquor. However, he fails to find any sort of potion or poultice. Also mysteriously missing is Svetlana's wedding ring, which she mentioned had been taken by Kressle upon their last meeting. He does, however, find a few long coils of rope among their other supplies.
The dead bandits all carry the same gear, a suit of leather armor along with a light wooden shield, and a longsword. They each carry a few silvers in their coin purses, and each wear a silver amulet of a rearing stag around their necks. Kressle herself wears heavier scale mail, with daggers strapped to her hips. Her handaxe lies on the ground next to her, and an amulet also hangs about her neck. As Prophet brings his hand back from rummaging in her belt pouch, he finds a small vial of glowing red liquid, and a large coin purse filled with gold pieces.
"We... we ain't gon' cause no trouble for ya, alright?" one of the bandits says, still blinking his eyes as the last of his blindness subsides. "The Stag Lord's a bloody drunk, and I ain't gonna throw m'life away tryin' to escape you lot just to come crawlin' back to the fort. He ain't never been right in the head, he's as likely to cut us down for runnin' as he is to reward us." He grabs at the pendant hanging around his neck, the same as those worn by Happs and the bandits that attacked the trading post. "Kressle a'least kept 'im from flyin' into 'is rages all the time. Nah, f*ck 'im. I'm done with 'im." With that, he rips the amulet off of his neck, tossing it to the side. A few moments later, the other two survivors do as well. "Long as you promise t'keep that sword o'your's away from me, I'll tell y'whatever I can about the bloody monster."
Theo gives Prophet a sidelong glance, a bit of a smile forming on his lips. "I suppose you'd say they chose to save themselves."
"A rather significant collection of stolen goods," Annika murmurs as the group goes through the bandits collection. "It seems that they've been rather successful overall." The lack of the wedding ring is more than a little strange, but perhaps it was turned over to the Stag Lord as some kind of tribute. That would make recovering it as they promised all the more difficult. "Though how a drunk can manage to be a capable fighter is beyond me. Perhaps he's simply that powerful, but it seems illogical for someone so skilled to be a mere bandit lord. Truly a waste of potential."
Creon pauses to consider the memory that came to him earlier. The indentured domestic at the border camp had given him the incendiary arrows, when she had helped him escape. What was her name? Normally his memory is so reliable - how could he forget something so important? He can't even remember her face, only the tell-tale circuit tattoo on her neck.
And, now he thought of it, when she had told him to seek out answers in the Stolen Lands, and then gave him the arrows, had she known that the fires they generated would spark further memories, and - rather than provide answers - would add to his rich store of disconnected questions?
Creon shakes his head. Best to focus on the task at hand, despite his frustrations.
"Question: What do we do with the camp?"
He considers suggesting they burn it, but bites his lip, not so much to avoid further lectures about proper behaviour, but because he doesn't want to revisit the memories he uncovered not so long ago.
Gallidren shakes his head at Creon, "Killing that stunned man in combat removed a potential adversary - it is a far cry from the execution you propose. I would say just leave the camp and run these bandits off. Without their weapons and leader they won't be much of a threat."
He turns to the bandits, "Tell us where to find this stag lord. How many men does he have with him? What defenses does he have at the fort? Is that liquor meant for the stag lord? How do you normally enter and leave the fort?"
"There's a fort somewhere down the river a'ways, but I couldn't point it out to ya on a map or nothin'." He shrugs his shoulders a few times, trying to regain the feeling in his back after Gallidren's spell. "How many men are there... depends on the day. If'n they're brining' somethin' back to the fort there might be as many as thirty o'forty of 'em there. I ain't been inside much, but he's got it pretty well sealed up. Big ol' wooden... wat'cha call 'em, palisades all around t'place? He's got archers watchin' t'only road headin' up tha' way, too." He looks at the case of liquor as Gallidren mentions it, spitting on the ground. "Aye, it's for 'im. F*ckin' drunk."
One of the others pipes up, after the first one finishes talking. "There's a pass phrase t'enter the fort! I don't know if t'one I heard last it right or not, but last I heard it was 'By the bloody bones o'Saint Gilmore, who wants t'know?' Before you ask, no, none o'us 'ave got a bloody idea who Saint Gilmore is." He makes a nod towards one of the only tents the bandits had set up, larger than most. "I dunno what else you'll find, but that's Kressle's tent o'er there. Might be somethin' you all can use." With that, the three bandits appear to be content to stay quiet, unless asked any other questions.
"It's already quite dark; it might be prudent to use the camp as our own for the night and head back to the Trading Post in the morning," Theo says, eyeing the campfire and tents. "If we tie these men up and put them in a tent, I doubt they'll cause us much trouble."
Annika nods. "I suppose that's all we're going to get out of you. Underlings rarely know the details, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised." She walks over to the indicated tent, looking inside and searching through Kressle's things. Perhaps the ring is here, along with anything else that the bandit leader thought was important enough to keep for herself.
Inside of Kressle's tent, you mostly find a few other odds and ends; some food, along with a bedroll and a few other necessities. Of the most interest, however, is the crude map splayed across a table, with a few black 'X's marked onto the parchment. While not all that well made, it likely wouldn't be difficult to mark those areas on your own exploration maps. Looking around for any sort of explanation as to these 'X's takes a moment, but Annika finds a small note set under the edge of the parchment.
Kressle,
You and Happs are staying put, around that trading post. That old man and his wife are an easy target, and I doubt that'll change any time soon. Fat Norry's gonna set up camp a little to the west of you, and Cragger's to the south. The two of them are gonna see if they can get that little village to pony up some goods since those bastards from Restov showed up. Ismort sent a few boys and Dirty Jeb up north; said he heard some men went missing up near the hermit's little hut. Don't know if the old man's got some fight or if something else happened.
-Dovan
Annika smiles. Now this was something of great value. She quickly bundles up the maps and grabs the note. "Gentlemen, I believe we've struck gold," she declares as she returns to the group. "Kressle was keeping maps of a number of other bandit camps, likely other bands under this Stag Lord. She's also made notes of other sites of interest, including settlements and homesteads. Just the thing we need."
As Holgar finishes scrounging around he hears Annika's and comes back around to the group carrying the rope that he found. "Ah hear what your sayin Lass but tat aint gold. It's pure bloody platinum it is. Easy way ta weaken te boss man witout sticken are necks out to far haha." As he walks over Holgar glances over at the "former" bandits and smiles in a way that somehow manages to be both friendly and promise a rather uncomfortable . "Not to mention all a those camps probably ave supplies te ol' grumpy-guts could use ta fix up 'is post. Aaand we ave some strong boys 'ere who seem ta be en need of employment. It even comes wit benefits a bed, food, water, ol' Greenie here not killing you, maybe some gold, hey ah might even make ya boys some o me Pa's old brew ha tat stuff could lay a Dragon out afta four mugs, it could. Oh and its good ta see you up and about Lass. Now for tonight, despite all o what ah just said, ahm gonna hafta insist tat you boys cuda up wit a nice rope blanket. nut much help against the cold but te do wonders at stoppin meh from puttin ah bolt en your back ha." Holgar laughs as he tosses the rope in a pile by the center of camp, and looks around at the rest of the party. "Ah hope tats a nice compromise for everybody, If we aint gonna kill em might as well make em useful right?"
Creon nods to Holgar and Theo:
"Agreement: that sounds rational. Additionally, I can watch them through the night - I do not require sleep. I promise not to kill any, unless of course they render it necessary through an attempt to escape."
He turns to address the bandits and removes his hood, baring his neck; his circuit-tattoos glow softly.
"Warning: Some of my friends here believe you capable of better things. But I care as little for your lives as you would have for ours. Do not test me."
Gallidren will attempt to identify the vial of red liquid.
He turns with exhaustion to the group, "Let's rest for the night here and then consider our options. I'll take the first watch."
Try as he might, the mix of exhaustion and his wounds cloud Gallidren's mind, and he cannot identify whatever mixture floats within the vial found in Kressle's belongings. With rest, and some proper time for examination, it could likely be figured out by tomorrow.
"I see no reason to leave them out in the cold, but if that's what it takes..." Theo shrugs, looking at the rope. "If you two will be taking watch for the time being, I believe I'll set up a tent of my own." With that, the paladin rummages through the mundane equipment owned by the bandits, and goes about setting up a tent not far from the fire pit.
Prophet elects to take a late watch in the dead of night.
Gallidren stokes the fire and cautiously watches the darkness with his bow ready.
Despite the tension in the air throughout the night, morning finds the party after an entirely uneventful evening. The bandits, still tied together in the center of camp, all remain snoring as the sun rises over your impromptu campsite. Cleared of the bodies of those put to the sword, the clearing is quite peaceful as you all greet the morning sun. Other than deciding what exactly to do with your brigands, it seems your trip back to the trading post will be largely uneventful.
Creon goes to the bandits and gently kicks them awake.
"Suggestion: we remove any supplies from the camp and have our charges here transport them to the trading post. I believe this was also friend Holgar's suggestion yesterday evening, to the extent I understood it. Perhaps, between the trader and the other prisoners, we can shed further light on the nature of the locations identified by the map."