"Not sure if there is anyone left we have been fairly effective. If anyone if left they are likely the smarter ones that will give up now. Right."
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No answer comes from Kent's calling, but the owlbear is beginning to act a little skittish. Ulryk finally shrinks back down to size, but he was not able to see where Devon went. The two bandits that were fighting each other are also both dead; one from wounds sustained in the fight, and the other with a broken neck from being pushed off the watchtower.
The only sound at the moment is the growl/chirping of the owlbear.
"Well there do not seem to be any enemies left so time for the fun part. LOOTING!"
Kent starts to scan the area with detect magic.
Brigid's mouth is a tight line as she shakes her head in disagreement with Kent. Not yet. Ve still have to deal vith this owlbear. It vill be a danger if ve release it, and I need to get the Stag Lord's corpse avay from it.
She keeps an arrow nocked and watches the beast closely while the others hopefully take up positions to strike.
Svetlana had a hard time containing her glee at the fate of the Stag Lord. Se offered a quick prayer to Calistria that her spell quite literally bound the man. And for the Revenge that followed. The priestess put her hands on the railing and glanced over for a moment at where the two archers also fought each other to their last...another gift from her goddess. Why not release it, she asked in an almost off-handed fashion in reference to the owlbear. It took its revenge, we should allow it the opportunity to live out a bit of its life out of this cage, yes?
It is unnatural. Better to kill it now than encounter it at night in the forest.
Damen studied the strange creature, only half-hearing the conversations of his friends, his mind jumping back to seeing the bandit torn to pieces after their attack on the northern camp... and to seeing the owlbear shred the Stag Lord in combination with his and Brigid's arrows. He took a step forward, putting away his bow. "I'm just... going to try to, ah, talk to it, first. If we can tame it...." He let the sentence hang in the air.
He took another step forward, closing his eyes to steel himself, then hunched his body slightly to look non-threatening as possible. He took a bit of dried meat from his pack, tossing it toward the owlbear, and doing his best to make soothing noises.
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The creature squawks and hoots as Damen moves closer t it, but it does not seem hostile. It seems, for the most part, to be ignoring the group. It drops down on all four feet and slowly walks towards the gate, looking at each of you as it passes. It swipes at the bar holding the sally port closed, tearing it off the gates. It then pushes open the small door and squeezes out and waddles off into the surrounding forest.
Well done Damen! Svetlana jumped up and down and clapped as the owlbear stalked its way out of the gate and into the wilderness. That was the correct action, it had it's revenge and now should live free for a bit. In time we may have to address its presence in this area, but that is a fight for another day. The priestess sauntered down the stairs in her swaying walk, then proceeded to look around the area. So...shall we see what valuables might be found? She then proceeds to check the fallen bodies of the Stag Lord and the bandits for valuables.
Brigid's eyes narrow when Damen coaxed the owlbear away, and she keeps them locked on the beast as it leaves. She finally relaxes slightly after it is past the gate and outside the wall, though she spares a couple lingering glances its way as she wonders whether they have made a mistake in letting it live.
She appears interested in the Stag Lord's bow when Svetlana begins to study his gear for valuables, and does compare it to the gift from Jhod though she feels it unlikely the bandit lord would have a more superior weapon than one blessed by the Man of Hearth and Horn.
She takes a step back and defers to the spellcasters' expertise in evaluating the gear.
After Kent identifies the loot.
"OK we got a potion of cure light wounds, a some lightly enchanted leather armor, a masterwork Long Sword, a [+1 Composite Longbow (+2 Str)], a [+1 Amulet of Natural Armor] and the stag lords helmet."
"I think Damen should get the Amulet sense after Ulryk he tends to be in the thick of it the most. The helmet should got to one of our two archers. The Composite Longbow should go to Damen sense the one he has is not enchanted. I'll hold the potion of sure light wounds sense some one need to be able to heal the healer and I tend to be available. Svetlana could use the leather armor. We can sell most of the rest."
Brigid picks up the helmet and turns it around in her hands. She brings it toward her head to try it on, but reels at the smell of years of grime and sweat. Nose crinkled, she passes it over to Kent. Can you cast that cleansing spell again? It is rather foul in there. While she waits, she looks expectantly at the wizard. Vhat does it do? You say it is magic, yes?
The bandit vas probably called the Stag Lord because of this helm. Perhaps it vould best be used as a trophy, to show he has been overthrown. It depends on vhat it does.
When Kent suggests the distribution of the remaining gear, Brigid looks over to the polearm warrior. Ulryk already has an amulet. Is one better than the other?
"When worn, the helm greatly enhances eyesight and hearing, [granting a +2 competence bonus on Perception checks]. In addition, once per day the helm may be called upon to enhance any ranged attack made by the wearer to make an insightful shot. [Activating this ability is a free action,] and once activated, your next ranged attack against a target within 30 feet is made as if that target were flat-footed against you"
Svetlana dove into the process of finding new magical items and bits of treasure with considerable gusto, but showed little similar interest in personally owning any of the items. Her thoughts and conversation turns mostly to a further exploration of the keep. Akiros, what was it you said about the Stag Lord's father and a basement of some sort?
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Akiros also points out you might want to search the Stag Lord's room! He then takes you to the area of ruin that hides a secret door leading down into the gloomy basement.
Stag Lords Treasure:
Two chests hold bedding and other miscellaneous items, including a bolt of burlap cloth, old clothing, an iron ring, and three crudely stitched
leather masks. In the third chest, the Stag Lord keeps his best treasures. This consists of 141 gp, a polished azurite crystal worth 9 gp, a carnelian worth 80 gp, a piece of hematite worth 13 gp, a shard of obsidian worth 14 gp, a red garnet worth 100 gp, a pewter belt buckle depicting a pair of entwined succubi worth 30 gp, and a silver charm
bracelet worth 60 gp.
A worshiper of the associated deity who wears this helm may utilize the insightful shot ability up to 3 times per day.
Once cleaned, Brigid tests the helm by putting it on. She looks around a bit, then takes it off and passes it to Damen.
While the group loots the Stag Lord's chambers, Brigid leaves the compound and heads over to the copse of trees where they hid Ulryk's mule and cart. She leads the beast back around into the fort, hopefully in time to join the exploration of the basement.
Damen turned the helmet over in his hands. "Like you say, I wouldn't mind a trophy for the wall, Brigid. And I'm not sure I want to, ah, wear this thing after the S- after that bandit. But let's see what happens." He put on the helmet, eyes widening as his senses sharpened. At the very edge of hearing, he felt he could almost hear a voice... but as he strained to catch it, there was nothing.
"Amazing! By Erastil, what a thing for a hunter! A nice tool, this. Wonder what he used it for, cooped up back here instead of out on the prowl."
Reluctantly, he removed the helm, looking at it with a trace of awe. His attention turned to the spoils of the chests, having followed the group into the basement. "Obviously the living was good, anyway," he observed, nodding to their new ally. "Glad you're on our side, Akiros."
If Brigid makes it back without incident with Ulryk's mule, she'll take the lead down the steps, arrow nocked and ready. She pauses before heading into the basement to let her eyes adjust to the dimness, and steps lightly and softly.
Kent follows Brigid down the stairs.
Svetlana will also follow Brigid down the stairs
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The vaulted ceilings disappear into the gloom of the undercroft as the party slowly enters the basement. The light from the entryway shines down the stairs then slowly fades as you move further into the cavernous room. The sound of dripping water echo's through the space, and a earthy/rotting smell drifts up from the dirt and mud encrusted floor.
{ooc]Will add map tonight, but for now what are you all doing?[/ooc]
Kent is a bit behind them.
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The party arrives in the undercroft of the old fort. It would seem that this was the main storage area for the bulk of goods stolen by these raiders, as various boxes, crates and barrels fill most of the area. The majority of the wealth kept here consists of mundane trade goods like
pelts, furs, tobacco, iron, bronze, miscellaneous weapons and armor (none masterwork or magic), and miscellaneous adventuring gear and tools worth a combined total of 6,850 gp. In addition, one chest in area Z11a contains 4,500 cp, 2,052 sp, 894 gp, and 21 pp, while a large bag contains 2,900 gp in various pieces of stolen jewelry.
While searching the various vaults, you discover an area that looks like a living quarters. A smelly pallet and rickety table and chair fill the distant, dank corner of the room. Hanging from the roof, and set in various niches in the wall, you see hundreds of small wood and cloth fetishes, some in the shape of animals, and others of people. Under the bed, you find a unlocked chest containing a number of personal effects and some clothes (nothing of any worth). The chest looks as though someone has hastily gone through it and removed a number of items.
Having cleared out the fortress of the Stag Lord, you have broken the bandits hold on this part of the wildlands and made it safer for the pioneers coming from Brevoy. Now all that needs to be done is to return to Oleg's and decide what your next move shall be.
END OF VOLUME ONE
"Well now that we have made the land safeer. Now would be the time to see about civilizing it."
Brigid turns to Ulryk and Svetlana after the fort and basement are secured. Some have escaped. Hopefully they vill leave and never return, but ve must remain alert. Her cautions aside, Brigid's spirits lift in the wake of their victory. She doesn't have much to say about Kent's talk of bringing civilization to the lands. They have defeated the bandits, certainly, but there were other threats in these lands.
The Nettle, for one thing. As her thoughts turn to her geas, she looks again to Kent. She makes a decision, and approaches him before they leave.
Kent. I must have vords vith you. Her back is straight, and there is a look of ceremony upon her when she draws her dagger. She holds it between them in a nonthreatening manner. I value our allegiance. Though I do not understand much of vhat you say, you are a fine ally. And I jeopardized that by my vords and actions a few days ago by the river. I vish to atone for them.
She looks down at the dagger in her hands. I do not know the vays of vizards. There is a tradition of my people to offer contrition, but I vould use yours if you have one. She looks at Kent expectantly.
Kent picks up the dagger. Then he uses he bound object to cast continual flame on it. Then he hands it back.
"Keep it so that you will always have a light in dark places. The ways of wizards are in no way uniform. But my way is to always try and listen so I understand and speck so I am understood. I understand and accept your apology and wish to offer my own that I failed to do the second one. I forget that the purpose of talking is not to show how smart or well educated you are, but to convey information."
Brigid marvels at the heatless flame on her dagger. Then she nods to Kent and stows the blade. The Issian tradition was to draw one's blood with the dagger and present the bloody blade to the aggrieved party with the promise that should she wrong him again he could return the blood --knife and all -- back to her. Where the knife went was up to the twice-wronged person. Usually the gut or the chest.
She returns to helping the group with packing the treasures for the journey to Oleg's. The Stag Lord's body gets bundled up in its own bag.
"I think we have two stops to take on the way to Oleg's the body drop-off and the Koblods. We should see how they are doing and see if they want to move over to our newly claimed fort. Despite the current state of disrepair it seems to be a step up from their hole. Also we are going to need help manning it."
As the party packed the spoils of the Stag Lord's fortress, Damen scratched his beard. "I wish we, ah, knew a bit more about the Stag Lord. And whoever lit out of here in such a hurry."
He sorted through the things from the undercroft, particularly the fetishes and totems. "A priest or... or something like that." He shrugged and hefted a bag, keeping his peace as he loaded for a bit. Toss the corpse, return to Oleg's, and... what was next? They'd explored, they'd ended the threat of the Stag Lord... he frowned.
Quietly, under the guise of picking up another load, he moved over to their new ally. He kept his voice low as he spoke to Akiros. "I, ah, don't know about the others, but I wouldn't blame you if you just... disappeared into the wilds once we left. I figure you shed blood with us so you're welcome to stay, don't hear me wrong on that, but..." His voice trailed off into a meaningful pause before he finished. "I'm just saying you earned your freedom, is all. At least in my eyes. And a tracker won't find what he won't seek, if you take my meaning." He grinned, then went back to work.
Kent has a private work with Akiros.
"I don't know what your plans are, but I am planing on taming this area and build it up to be something great. I could use someone like you tough perceptive guy who has spent enough time among bandits to understand them, but also has the moral fortitude to fight them."
"I think we have two stops to take on the way to Oleg's the body drop-off and the Koblods. We should see how they are doing and see if they want to move over to our newly claimed fort. Despite the current state of disrepair it seems to be a step up from their hole. Also we are going to need help manning it."
Brigid considers the wizard's words and frowns. Gefðu manni kastala og hann mun held að hann sé konungur, she mutters, mostly to herself. When eyes turn toward her, she speaks. It is a saying from my home. "Give a man a castle and he vill think himself king." If ve put the kobolds in this fort, ve may have to take it from them vhen ve return.
"Well if they are going to betray us I would rather know about it sooner then later. But remember that they could move into the fort well we are gone without our permission. So therefor it is better to give it and try and remain in control. Besides the fort needs work."
Damen couldn't help but laugh a little at the comments of his friends. "Give a man a castle, yes, I suppose he would. But these are, ah, kobolds. They were losing a war against those little mites. I'm happy enough letting them be as long as they mind their business, but I expect we could take back the fort easily enough from them."
Brigid nods to Damen, conceding his point. Then she shrugs as she mounts Zelter, and spurs him to motion. Ve shall see if they vould move from their homes. Kent, if you vish to return to this place to restore it to function, do not place someone here that you vill later have to evict. Having said her piece, she starts to ride in the direction of Nettle's Crossing at an urgent pace.
"Well let's go"
The figure began as a speck on the horizon, cresting the ridge of rocky hills to the north. The goatherd eyed it as it crossed the rugged landscape, ever approaching. He debated moving his herd to a different valley. There was nothing but miles of empty wilderness to the north -- desolate and foreboding. He ill liked the thought of a lone figure coming from that region.
Yet there was no doubt he had been seen as well, and felt the figure's eyes upon him, even from this distance. He hefted his staff; felt its weight and ran his rough hands over its worn, familiar grain. It was stout, and had defended him from brigands and predators. He set his jaw and readied himself for danger.
The figure crested another ridge, and the goatherd could better make out its shape. Definitely human-like, and possibly female, or wrapped in a cloak. He chewed a piece of straw and squinted. Yes, definitely female. He relaxed.
Over the next hour, the figure resolved into a tall, red-haired woman in heavy skirts and a light cloak, hugged tight against her. She looked to have been traveling overland for a long time, and looked lean and haggard. Her hair was in a frayed braid and her clothes were stained and ripped. Her large green eyes were glazed and her face -- which should have been quite beautiful -- was sallow and wan.
The goatherd marveled at her -- she must have been walking for days, weeks even. She looked weakly at him as he finally resolved she posed no danger to him or his herd. Even the goats barely showed alarm as they bleated contentedly when she reached the hillside.
He went to her as she wearily trudged a few more steps. The cold wind whipped at her worn dress and at the hem of her cloak. She managed a weak smile as she took in the goatherd's concern and compassion on his face. He took her arm and steadied her. She leaned on him.
"Easy there, lass. I've got you." He put her arm around his shoulder and held her steady about her waist. While she made a valiant effort to keep her feet under her, the goatherd ended up bearing more and more of her weight until he was practically carrying her back to his herd.
"Might I --" she began with a hoarse and raspy voice. She tried to wet her throat and began again. "Might I trouble you for some water and food?"
The goatherd chuckled. "So polite! Of course, it's no trouble at all. You look like, well, you look like you need it."
Brigid's eyes snapped open as she felt herself falling, coming out of the dream and memory until strong hands grabbed her. She pitched and flailed in confused panic until she felt herself being lowered to the ground. She looked up and found Damen stepping away on one side and Zelter snorting and shaking his head on the other.
Realizing she must have dozed off in the saddle, she pushes herself back to her feet. My thanks, she nods to the ranger. That vas... foolish of me.
She shakes off the last of the sleep and the old memories and looks around. Are ve close to the Nettle?
"should be right a around that bend."