On the ride back to Oleg's, Talia makes sure to steer Noleski at a leisurely pace, trotting behind the walking prisoners, occasionally cracking her whip at their backs with a casual cruelty. She makes sure from time to time to alude to what awaits them - trial and judgement by the full might of Brevoy, while dropping hints that a good song could keep their souls from flying to judgement. She's particularly interested in Kressle's pendant, bringing it up when a moment presents itself, riding by the woman and holding the pendant to the sunlight. "Tell me, Kressle - we've found three of these necklaces, including yours, around the necks of your men. What's the significance? Why did you - and Happs - have one, and not a guy like Nat?"
-----------------------
Back at Oleg's, Talia sighs with contentment as she dismounts Noleski. Rubbing her hands together, she smiles to Kesten, and makes her way inside, calling over her shoulder. "A nap, a bath, and a meal - in that order."
But first she makes her way to Oleg and presents the man with the other half of their payment for the wand.
The trip back to Oleg's was a long one for Gavriil. He kept a smile on his face and even whistled tunes during the periods that Talia wasn't cracking the whip over their prisoners. But underneath he was a bit conflicted. He had taken the life of another man. It was puzzling to him. Never being a religious man, he didn't fear for his soul. The fact merely made him pause. He felt remorse for what he had done mostly because a part of him actually liked it. Not so much the death itself but the thrill he got while wading through the danger.
No doubt it would make a great story back in Restov. With himself being the hero, of course.
------------------------
Once safely back at Oleg's, Gavriil slumped off his horse, a little bow-legged from the ride, and went straight to Svetlana. "Beautiful Svetlana, could you draw a bath and prepare a meal. I'll pay for your finest mead and radish stew. And we'll tell you the tale of the bandit camp if you wish!" With that, he heads towards the table out front to wait for the water to be drawn.
Kressle spits in Talia's face, laughing at the noblewoman's reaction to that breach of decorum. She says nothing more.
------------------
After a hot bath, a hot meal, and a good drink, Kesten and Oleg sit down with the group around a crackling fire in the hearth. They have many questions about your travels to date and your encounters while you were out. Kesten's inquiries involve bandit numbers, trails, and other strategic items. Oleg, on the other hand, is focused on trade opportunities: did you see many trappers or traders? What about animals for furs or other goods?
Asha comes in from where she has built a small shelter and shrine to Erastil. She tends to wounds, and otherwise ensures that your spiritual and physical well-being is tended to. She does inquire if you have found the place she has seen in her visions.
Talia slowly wipes the spittle from her face, trying, quite unsuccessfully to keep her face from blushing with anger. She lets Noleski slow and falls back behind the bandit, and then rearing her arm back, Talia cracks her whip across Kressle's back. Talia then proceeds to taunt the bandit the rest of the ride back, reminding the woman constantly that she's probably going to be dead soon.
-----------------------
Gavriil smiled as he came out from a bath to see the food all ready. He sat down with the other members of his group, trying to fill in Oleg, Kesten, Asha, and the others on what happened to them. He let Talia do most of the talking, only adding things that he thought might be important.
As the mead flowed on, Gavriil broke into an impromptu tale of the bandit camp, using cups and plates as place-markers like he was a general plotting his strategy. "We came up on them late at night, knowing exactly where they were thanks to this guy right here! He clapped his hand on Dregan's back, grinning from ear to ear. "We pulled a few of them away from their camp and Talia put them right to sleep. We thought it was going smooth, but they knew what was going on. They circled the wagons, and we crashed in on them. Our one-eyed wizard and Dregan moved through the shadows, picking off bandits with arrows and spells alike! Magna was as big as this room! Crashing through bandits like nothing!" He swung his arms out wide, imitating the paladin (albeit terribly) swinging her axe at invisible bandits. Still grinning ear to ear, he continued, "As Magna crushed the bandits under her might, I swept to the right, coming up on their archers from the side," He stood up on his chair, imitating himself dashing over a rock that he had vaulted going after the archer, and stabbed an invisible sword through the air, "And I pierced the archer's heart!" At the crescendo of his tale, he toppled off the chair and crashed on the floor. Smiling up at the others from the floor he said, "And that's the tale of the bandits!"
Dregan nods at Talia explanations and grins at Gavriil's, laughing at the point he topples to the ground. "Once we are 'ealed up an' dealt wiv tha captured bandits we should 'ead aaaht an' get some of tha answers. Once we 'ave proper explawerd an' mapped tha area around tha bandi' camp we should 'ave a be'er idea abaaaht other activi'y an' any old temples"
Talia smiles, cupping her cup of mead closely. "Ha! Tale of the Bandit Camp indeed! You, sir, should have been a playwright!"
Gavriil shot a sly grin to Talia, "Maybe we can co-wright it. You bring the fancy words that'll impress the nobles and I'll sprinkle in enough wenches, booze, and fighting to keep everyone else that comes to see it awake." He unsteadily pulled himself back into his chair. "And all of us will be in it of course! Why cast actors when we were actually there!"
"I suspect wiv all what wenches, booze an' fightin' yew might only impress 'alf tha audience, an' probably not tha 'alf yew wan' t' impress"
Gavriil grins at Dregan, "Then they're probably not worth impressing, my stoic hunter."
Dregan's face switches quickly from amusement to anger "Are yew sayin' me Mary ain't worf impressing?"
Gavriil, in his drunken state, didn't quite catch the change in tone in Dregan's voice. With a smirk, he continued on, "I can't talk for your, assumingly beautiful wife, Dregan. But I for one know quite a few people how would prefer bawdy over ballet." He let out a guffaw before calming down and looking at Dregan and saying, "She must be a real gem if you're gallivanting around the Stolen Lands with us to win her heart. You must be a real lucky man."
He shot a wink at Talia, "Maybe we can write a delicate version for our scruffy scout's lady? It's the least we can do!"
Kressle looks daggers at Talia, but says nothing. She is silent the rest of the trip.
----------------------
Kesten, Oleg, and the others listen appreciatively at the tale of the bandits, laughing at Gavriil's final riposte'.
Kesten looks to Talia. "So. Their fate has been decided then? None have chosen to repent like our Nat? How unfortunate."
Talia laughs, standing up a little unsteadily and draining the rest of her mead in one long gulp. "Yes! No! The key, my friend, is to have a story that is at once vulgar and delicate. I've never been very good at the vulgar, but the great Bard of Brevoy could layer word upon word, meaning upon meaning. That is how you entertain the masses and the refined! Give everyone what they want, I say!" Sitting back down, the playwright holds her glass out in Svetlana's direction.
-------------------
"Ahem, yes." Leaning forward, Talia looks at Kesten, serious as an ankheg attack. "No repentance shown to me, anyways. The sword or the rope for them." Leaning back in her chair, heart pumping with adrenaline, did I just sentence someone to death?, the young woman remembers she's not alone on this journey. "Unless, uh, anyone objects, of course?"
"I think hemp will be the fate of those bandits. They will make a good example to other in their dead."
---
Magna will organize and expedite trial, using all the testimony necessary to convict them for banditry, and will take the lead in the execution of the sentence.
---
In a tree close to the fort there will be three hanging bodies before the night falls.
Justice will be served.
"We 'ave no given 'em a chance t' repent, tha past day they 'ave been force t' walk quickly t' keep up. They deserve t' be listened t', an' judged fairly or why buvver wiv capturin' in tha first place." Dregan will interrupt before the trails start.
Edit: Ninja'd by Dregan!
Talia shrugs. "You're welcome to try. Be careful of the woman - she'll use you as a spitoon."
Gavriil nodded along with Dregan, "Even if they don't repent, we might be able to get some information out of them!" He laughs at Talia's remark, remembering Kessel spitting back at the actress on the road. "Don't worry. We'll gett'em to sing."
--------------
Gavriil swayed ever so slightly over to where the bandits were being held and squatted down in front of the trio. He let out a long sigh and said, "Sooooo... We've got a tinsy-tiny bit of a problem here fellas... and lady. We're supposed to hang you, and the others are pretty keen on doing it, even the more merciful people in our groups. I don't want to have to hang you. I know what it's like just doing what it takes to get by, all too well. But if you don't help me out, I'm going to have to just hand you over to the wolves and you'll dance better than me with a few drinks in me at the end of a rope."
He let out a sigh and uncorked another bottle of mead that he bought off Svetlana and took a swig, before offering it to the bound bandit, helping them take a drink if they wanted one. "So, I have a few questions for you. How much help you give me will be the same amount of help I can give you."
He belches loudly, "First things first. There's no way that was all of your men out here. So, where's your hold-out? And who's your leader?"
Magna will go to provide support. Her face hard, as stone.
Talia stands and leaving her glass of mead standing on her chair, goes to visit the bandits with Gavriil and Magna. Guess we should see what the bandits are going to not tell us. Zing!
Watching Gavriil do his schtick, which Talia would call charming, she can see that the young man's a bit too inebriated for his own good. She's sure Gavriil thinks he's making a good case for cooperation, but his words are coming out awfully slurred and run-together. Talia watches the man speak and then she goes to work on the bandits herself, thankful that Magna stands by, glowering and ready to bust heads if something happens.
Smiling, the young woman sits, far enough away from the bandits that she can't be reached. Twiddling her fingers a bit, she casts prestidigitation to clean the captives up, removing any blood, dirt, or other mess from their persons. Sighing with contentment, the noble looks at the bandits and begins speaking in a low, soothing voice.
"There. That's much better. Now you don't look like you've been living in the woods, eating bark and robbing whatever comes your way. You look... presentable. For what, you ask, do you need to be presentable? Well, since you've shown no remorse, I suppose you'll be hung - or stabbed - to death. That is the ending for people that live violent, unethical lives, especially if they are powerless, you see? Little desperate people living little desperate lives, and all that. It would make a good tragedy, The Short Unhappy Life of Wiggins the Bandit. Or whatever your name is - it ultimately won't matter and your name will be lost to the fog of time."
"Anywaaaaayys, here's the thing. You're all presentable now, to go and meet Pharasma for judgement, but do you really want to do that yet? Especially when your life has been so short, so violent, so unhappy? Perhaps, if you tell me the answer to the following questions, you can begin to make reparations. I'm sure it won't be easy. Perhaps you'll serve some time, or you'll work your debt to society off. But if you cooperate, I'll put in a good word for you, and you may not have to meet Pharasma yet."
"Gavriil's right - eight bandits plus Hap's men hardly makes a 'scourge,' and Brevoy simply wouldn't care that much about twelve of you. Where did the bandits that escaped us run to? Where are your other camps?"
"Who, besides poor Oleg and Svetlana here, are you robbing? Are there other people around the area? Traders? Trappers? Villages? Other bandits?"
"Have you seen an angry bear?"
"What's with the silver amulets?"
Then, Talia goes and repeats the same act with Kressle (or the bandits, if Gavriil was talking to Kressle first).
Once it is clear that the bandits will get a chance to repent Dregan will leave, get out of the way and go hunting for rabbits.
Kressle says nothing. In fact, she spits in Gavriil's eye when the gag is removed. The bandit leader just stares straight ahead as you speak.
-------------------
The others, however, are more informative. Faced with the rope, they quickly spill what they know. Especially when they see Nat moving about. As it turns out, many of them are down on their luck, much like Nat was, and banditry was their only recourse.
"Ain't seen no bear, but I aheard of one away west.'
"Wedding ring? Yeah we had one, but them mites stole it with a bunch of stuff a day or so before you showed up. Took it away to the old sycamoree where they have a cave or sumthin"
“Our boss is a monster of a man. Calls himself the Stag Lord. He’s a deadeye with the bow, and I saw him crush a prisoner’s hand to mush in one fist. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen him without his creepy stag helmet on— some of my friends think he ain’t got no face under it, but not me— I think that creepy helm is his face!”
“Only the the boss's lieutenants had them amulets. It’s hard keeping track of who’s working for the boss, so we use a master phrase as a sort of password to get in to the fort on the northeast shore of the Tuskwater. Unless it’s been changed recently, the current phrase is, ‘By the Bloody Bones of St. Gilmorg, who wants to know?’ And no, I have no idea who ‘St. Gilmorg’ is.”
“The Stag Lord is a bloody drunk. All that booze under the platform’s for him. He's half of what he used to be, and ain’t never been right in the head. A few weeks ago he punched my horse for spittin' in the yard. Personally, I wouldn't care if he dropped dead tomorrow, but even drunk out of his mind he's still got a fair amount of fight to him.”
“The Stag Lord keeps a strange old man locked up in the basement. I suspect the old guy might actually be running the show, using the Stag Lord as a puppet, you know. I got a look into the old guy’s eyes once, and it terrified me. He ain't someone I'd want to cross.”
"Wedding ring? Yeah we had one, but them mites stole it with a bunch of stuff a day or so before you showed up. Took it away to the old sycamoree where they have a cave or sumthin"
"What the hells is a mite? Where is this sycamoree tree?"
“Only the the boss's lieutenants had them amulets. It’s hard keeping track of who’s working for the boss, so we use a master phrase as a sort of password to get in to the fort on the northeast shore of the Tuskwater. Unless it’s been changed recently, the current phrase is, ‘By the Bloody Bones of St. Gilmorg, who wants to know?’ And no, I have no idea who ‘St. Gilmorg’ is.”
"Good to know. How many bandits are at that fort, if you had to hazard a guess? And you have to guess if you value your life."
“The Stag Lord keeps a strange old man locked up in the basement. I suspect the old guy might actually be running the show, using the Stag Lord as a puppet, you know. I got a look into the old guy’s eyes once, and it terrified me. He ain't someone I'd want to cross.”
"C'mon now, that doesn't make any sense. If the old man's the boss, why does the Stag Lord keep him locked up?"
-------------------
After talking with the bandits, Talia makes her way over to Nat. "Nat, what can you tell me abou the character of the two men we brought in? Be honest now. They've been very helpful, but if you vouch for them and we let them out of the noose, and then they harm anyone? You'll be held responsible as well."
"Mites is little buggers. Like traps and pranks. The Old Sycamore is away south." He waves his arm in a vague manner.
-----------------------------
Dunno really, just been there once. Happs n Kressle used to go mostly. Mebbe 10?" The other nods at that.
------------------------------
The man stares at you with a funny look. "What part about 'drunken lunatic' did ya not get miss? I dunno why he's down there, an' I wasn't gonna ask."
------------------------------
Nat looks torn. "I don't know Miss Talia. They's plain folks in a bad spot jes like I was. Took to being a bandit jes like me. We all did some awful things, robbin' folk an' such." He looks down at his feet. "Things I ain't proud of." He looks back up at Talia and around the post. "But now I gots a better life, a better chance, thanks to y'all. But you can't ask me to speak fer them. I ain't no judge. That falls to better folk like yerself."
"Wait! You can't make Nat responsible of other people's actions. He has showed himself trustworthy. I can trust him. Nat, should we trust those two? Should they be spared as you were?"
The man's face is a mask of worry. "Ye gave me a chance. I'd say give them the same, if'n they ask for it. Kressle, she ain't never been no good. Trust? I dunno, how much ken ya trust any man? Only time will show, fer sure."
Talia regards her dwarven companion, a small smirk playing on the woman's lips. Magna sure has a soft spot for the bandit-turned-farmer.
"You're correct, as usual, Magna. I shouldn't - and won't - hold Nat responsible for the actions of the others. Do you feel comfortable taking these bandits under your wing, as you did with Nat?"
Turning to Nat, Talia lowers her voice and speaks soothingly, as the man is obviously distressed - or a great actor. Speaking first to him, and then to the others, Talia says, "My sincere apologies, Nat. Your demeanor tells me everything I need to know, and I won't put you on the spot again. And I'm no judge either. Whatever those of you that are more suited for that work feel regarding our two captives - that decision is fine by me." Turning her head back to Nat, the playwright nods her head. "You've all earned my trust.
Giving Nat and Magna a quick curtsy, Talia goes to take a nap, and sleep off the liquor. She has no interest in seeing Kressle hung.
Magna makes sure the new pardoned bandits know their place and consequences if they lapse again.
And then she proceeds to the hanging of Kressle.
Gavriil wiped the spittle off his face with his lips pressed into a thin line. "As charming as ever, my dear."
-------------------
Gavriil remained silent through Talia, Manga, and Nat's little meeting over the fates of the bandits. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Magna had been so adamant about saving Nat from the noose, yet so quick to condemn the bandits they had captured. She hadn't even wanted to question them to see if they had wanted to repent. It just rubbed him the wrong way, but he kept his trap shut.
For once.
Once they had decided to give the bandits a chance, he followed Magna to where they were hanging Kressle. A short drop and a quick stop sent her screaming after Haps to Pharasma. It wasn't pretty, but death rarely was.
Once Kressle had been dealt with, Gavriil went off to take a nap o sleep off the alcohol, figuring that they could all meet up around dinner to discuss what they should do next.
----------------------------
Gavriil sits down at the table and thanked Svetlana for the food, but passed on the mead. He needed a little bit of water in his system now. Once the others were settled, he said, "What now? We got a lot of information from those bandits. I'm assuming you all are going to want to go after the bandits, since that's been our track record. Which is fine, but I'd still like a little more information on the fort before we go straight after it."
Breaking a bit of bread from a beautifully crusty loaf of peasant's bread, Talia wipes the inside of her soup bowl, sighing contentedly as she tries to sop up the last of Svetlana's goat stew. "I'd like to go after this Stag Lord, but you're right - we should get more information about this fort. Ten or more bandits holed up defensively will be a tough fight. We'll need to get into the fort before we can take them out or siege the fort and starve them out. Who knows how much food they have holed up with them, though."
"However, we just disrupted his liquor supplies, and the mania that causes may play to our advantage. Should we scout the area first? We also can get the wedding ring from these mites for Svetlana, and look for Asha's bear. It may do good to let the Stag Lord suffer some withdrawl - give it some time for him to become more unstable."
Kressle goes out like she lived...violently. Defiant to the end, she never speaks a word. The others are given work detail under Nat and the watchful eyes of two of Kesten's guards. First task: bury their ex-leader.
Gavriil nods along with Talia, shoving food into his mouth as their resident actress talked about her thoughts. He chimes in with, "Well, the badges are only for the higher ups, and they said they don't know everyone on their payroll. So, we might be able to make a little delivery to the Stag Lord. We could take the booze right to him. With the badges, booze, and the password... we should be able to slide right in. Though we won't know what to do past that because we don't know what's in there. As for the siege... Four people don't really make a siege, gorgeous."
Dregan returns after the trial and gets updated on what happened. He goes and helps the newest members of their community dig Kressle's grave. He does this partly as an excuse to hang out with the bandits as ask them for more details about the Stag Lord. He will ask for more about his size and how long he has been leading the bandits, basically he want's to make sure it isn't his brother.
"I reckon we should explawer tha area around tha Kressle's camp an' make sure none ov those what ran are 'ryin' t' continue wiv their stealing. Then go look fer Asha's bear since Perlivash gave us an idea ov where t' look an' if we find tha mites on tha way we can steal tha stolen rin' back off 'em."
"I'm sure we could arrange fer some tha stag lord's blokes t' find a few bottles ov 'booze' what we 'ave 'ad poisoned. I suspect Bokken could brew somethin' up. Leavin' 'em wiv out a leader might separate 'em in'er manageable groups."
Talia rolls her eyes at Gavriil. "I know four doesn't make a siege. I was thinking maybe we could get some help. Like from Kesten or someone. I don't think we can slide right in though - the bandits that escaped our raid on the camp may have gone to the fort, and they saw Magna for sure, and probably you and me as well. Hmmm, if we try and walk in the front door, we'd need disguises... Luckily, I brought my stage makeup kit!"
--------------
When Dregan mentions poisoning the Stag Lord, Talia just stops and stares, her mouth hanging open. "That's. That's brilliant! Take the head off the snake and then mop up the rest! Maybe we walk in the front door, disguised of course, poison the Stag Lord, and then scatter the rest?"
"At any rate, I like Dregan's plan - I agree about exploring around the camp and then the bear."
Gavriil winced when Talia brought up make-up. Next thing we know, she's going to have us wearing corsets and garter belts, he thinks. With a smirk, he says, "Is make-up really necessary? I'm not quite sure these hardened killers wear blush!
He nods along with the pair, though. "The bear and the camp are probably our best course. Maybe we could get some more info out of bandits if we find them." With a sigh at the thought of getting back in the saddle so soon he says, "We could probably leave in the morning after we rest up."
Naralesh spends much of his time at the trading post secluded away with his books, rehearsing spells in his head and scribbling arcane notes in a new journal purchased from the trading post. It's not until the afternoon of Kressle's execution that his studies are interrupted by the furry form of Nora, who pounces impatiently onto his open spellbook as he examines it. Having gotten his attention, the tiny fox bounds to the floor and grabs the edge of his pants, gently tugging the elf towards the door. Naralesh chuckles as he shuts the spellbook, realizing he's been ignoring the others for far too long in his fervor to improve his arcane talents. He emerges from his room in the late afternoon and is present to witness the bandit lieutenant's death before joining the others for their planning.
"Poison?" muses the elf to Dregan's suggestion. "I cannot say that the idea sits right with me, but it is hard to deny its cleverness. I suspect Magna may share my misgivings, but it might be an easy way to avoid a fight with an intimidating combatant."
"As far as disguise, I suspect the bandits have few non-humans among their ranks. Magna and myself would have a harder time blending in than the rest of you."
"I also am in favor of returning to the camp, and searching for this bear."
Magna hears her companions, nodding, silently. Finally she speaks to them.
"They don't fully know all of their number. And they use this "stag" brooches as an "officer's" insignia. That gives us an advantage."
She sees at the eyes of all of her companions.
"We know everything we need to take on this bandit. We have the means to strike at him, and free this land from his grasp."
She pounds at the table.
"Do we have the will to do it? The courage?"
She smiles fiercely.
"Talia is perfectly capable of fooling them so they open the doors of their fortress to us. She is wise and skilled, and I trust her charms. Naralesh magical gifts, if we let him use them, can take out of the fight a big group of bandits without any fuss. Dregan's aim and bow can take care of any guard or bowman at a distance. And Gavriil's rapier is all I need next to me to go into battle without fear."
She grabs Dregan's shoulder. Her eyes glow with forge-like fire. Her fists are clasped. Her voice shows resolve.
"And we have a load of liquor that can take out their leader, using his own weaknesses to defeat him. Do we wait for them to attack us? Or do we attack them in their lair, when they least expected, from within their own fortress?"
Talia smirks, and rummages around in her pack, producing her silver earrings and holding them up towards Gavriil's face. Squinting, as if to judge how they'd look hanging from the scoundrel's ears, Talia frowns. "As much as I'd love to play dress-up, I think you'd make a simply horrifying woman. No, I was thinking more in line with using stage makeup to create things like scars, change our hair color, and the like. I'd prefer not to walk into the fort with my shock of red hair undisguised - it is one of my most distinguishing features, after all. We could put Naralesh in a cloak to cover his ears, give him the beard of a rough-and-tumble woodsman. Give you, Gavriil, a scar, a different outfit, maybe dye your hair as well. I don't think anyone ever saw Dregan real well, and he kind of looks the bandit already, so..."
"Magna's a tough one though. Any bandits that escaped probably got a good look at her, and she's a dwarf to boot. Maybe I can dress her up as a short human woman. It should be passable enough to get us in the front door at least."
-----------
As Magna grabs Dregan's shoulder and clasps her fists, Talia sits stunned for a second at the eloquence of the usually less-talkative woman. Then Talia smiles and starts trying to commit the speech to memory - it will make a fine tale for the stage. "Magna's right. We can hit the bandits while they are unsuspecting. I can talk us into the gate. Then we just need to buy some time while the Stag Lord drinks our poison. Perhaps we can sneak Magna in under the wagon?"
"Of course, I don't know where this Tuskwater is, and our other duty is to scout and map the area. We may spend a significant amount of time just trying to find the fort. Anyone know anything about this Tuskwater?
A passing trapper can tell you that the Tuskwater is 'away south, a loong ways away. A week's journey at least'.
Kesten, ever present in your planning, adds some advice. "That's a week through unexplored territory. Who knows what lies between here and there? We may want to continue to scout out the land around here. Remember: the charter's primary mandate is to explore and map the Greenbelt, dealing with banditry is secondary."
"I am sure there are dangers and perils. Trials and risks. Everything we need to forge ourselves into our true selves."
"Hmm. If Kesten is correct, a week through unexplored territory, we probably are better off sticking close to home, and mapping our way south. The camp and the bear then, tomorrow."