Ciri rolls her yellow eyes at Ragnar's subtlety. "The name's Ciri. I'm capable with bow, blade, and spell. Have no fear that I will slow you down. Have no hope that you'll do anything more than look."
Ragnar catches her meaning and laughs.
"Haha! I suppose if what you say is true than I shouldn't. You cannot fault me the look of course, you are...interesting to say the least. Perhaps you could show me your 'capabilities?' Subotai? Maybe you're up to the challenge as well? I wouldn't want to bring a pair of stable hands with me into the wilds!"
Ragnar laughs and drinks of his cup.
"If that's not a problem mi'lady?"
He gestures towards Subotai to stand.
Subotai stands and walks out away from the tables. He places his hand on his short sword.
"Aye, I suppose I could do as such."
He cracks his neck in an obvious attempt at intimidation.
Ciri takes another sip from her mug and cocks a skeptical eyebrow at Ragnar. "Really? We're going to do this? Right, who's the healer, then? Or do we all want to go into the wilderness as beat up as you, blondie? It's not smart to beat each other up and then throw ourselves to the wolves."
"Oh, no I don't mean to come across as a brigand! We're not to waylay you. Just a test of steel! I'm sure Subotai wasn't going to draw blood." Ragnar glances at Subotai.
"More than once. I suppose if you don't want to prove yourself I can't truly stop you from following along after us either..."
"You hear Ragnar! She is a cowardly woman! No place on the field!"
Subotai's own words shock him. He isn't too skilled with a blade himself, and truth me told he'd prefer to be up astride a horse firing arrows, not trading steel. But does he want to look a coward so soon in front of the Northman?
"What's the rules, then? First blood? Called yield? Unconscious?"
Ciri rises and steps clear of the bench but does not draw steel.
As the talking begins, and the possibility of fisticuffs grows, Oleg looks up sharply. His eyes narrow, and he calmly places his small bucket of sauce on his plank table. He walks quickly to where Svetlana's kitchen is and leans his head inside. The sound of talking is muffled by the wooden walls.
Soon, both he and Svetlana are standing in the doorway watching with interest.
As for Grub...anyone paying attention realizes he, his stew bowl, and Ciri's plate of food are nowhere to be seen...
"I'll let you two sort it out! To be honest, I don't think our turbaned friend here has the heart of a warrior, he may back down should you just draw your steel!"
Ragnar is goading Subotai on, he doesn't think I'll of the man, but he doesn't know what to think of his skill as a warrior.
Looking to Subotai, "I mean no disrespect of course!"
"Says the man I rescued from doom! Ha!"
Subotai laughs at Ragnar's taunt. He is quicker than the Northman thinks and doesn't provoke so easily.
Ciri chuckles. "The poor thing seems to be desperate for entertainment. Shall we entertain him, sir?" she nods at Subotai.
"Hmmm if it gets me the job!"
At Ciri's nod Subotai draws his steel with a flash, bringing it down in an overhand arc.
Ciri ducks aside a bit slowly, but Subotai's sword deflects off one of the studs in her armor with a dull chunk. A slow grin spreads across her face as she draws her short sword. Instead of lunging at Subotai, she steps back five feet, makes a smooth warding motion with her off hand, and mumbles a odd, incomprehensible phrase. The air before her shimmers slightly, then clears. She crouches slightly, smiling at Subotai, shortsword in hand.
Not sweating his humiliating swing, Subotai moves forward to engage Ciri again, bring his curved blade swinging up!
Subotai misses wildly, bring the blade up it seems to deflect before even getting to her!
As Ciri's spell flashes, Ragnar's eyes light up.
Magic! Oh, she may be a greater help than I had thought!
Keeping his eyes on the mild duel, Ragnar speaks to Brother Norri.
"Master Dwarf? Norri, aye? What is she? She's obviously not quite... human?"
Ciri blows Subotai a kiss as she attacks, taking a quick jab with her sword, then muttering and waving her fingers again.
for
She shakes her head ruefully as Subotai easily avoids her thrust, while there seems to be no spell forthcoming. Despite the failure, her grin grows broader.
"Oh aye Sir Ragnar! I believe she be a Turfling! They're the descendants of demon worshipping humans some say. Others that they're the offspring of a demon and a human woman, a union of unholy purpose! I...will be honest though, I haven't really a expert mind in the area. I do believe they are just the spawn of any sort of union of human and outsider. Much like half-elves and half-orcs."
As the blades swing Ragnar continues the talk,
"No half-dwarves though, isn't that interesting? What would they be, overly short humans or really tall dwarf folk?"
Norri chuckles, "Ha no I don't suppose you do. Our race is an old and proud one, we have more in common with the stone than you humans I suspect. Though to be honest I'm not really an expert in that neither! Hahaha!"
Norri drinks deeply from his mug, He likes this young man.
Subotai winks at the kiss, bring his blade around to parry and dodge her thrust.
He does a thrust of his own, and his blade mirrors the movement of his pelvis.
Ciri parries and laughs, responding with another twitch of her fingers and blurt of some obscure phrase.
Spitting a curse through her smile, she whips the blade at Subotai's head, laughing at the mad whiff.
As Subotai laughs in the face of Ciri, her blade failing to even inch toward his frame, Ragnar raises his arms.
"Hold! Hold! Alright I've seen enough. Now, I'm not so sure if you're both unharmed from your ability to fight or lack of skill, but I see you potential, yes I do."
He continues, trying his damnedest to win everyone over
"Come, Ciri drink with us we have much planning to do, you fight with as much grace as I'd expect from such a body, and Subotai my friend you didn't do half so bad as I hear of your kind come, sit. Grub, where is Grub?"
Ragnar doesn't seem to hear the backhanded nature of his compliments.
"Here,I am here." A muffled grunt comes from Grub who is finishing off the remaining stew in his bowl. He is sitting legs dangling from the window of one of the upstairs rooms.
"I put my money on you baby! Don't worry, ol' Grubbins won't let these pretty men harm your virtue." He winks at Ciri, and then disappears from the window to reappear from the lodgings door within seconds.
He belches loudly and calls to Svetlana, "Stew's good, but it could use more salt!"
Ciri snorts as she nods at Subotai and jams the sword back into its scabbard. "You need a vizier, Linnorm King. Take my word for it."
She returns to the table but declines to sit, setting one booted foot on a bench and leaning on her forearms as she grins at Grub. "Took advantage of the situation, did you? By the way, this seems like good country for pig hunting." She glares at Subotai and Ragnar.
"What sort of things need planning, Your Highness?"
At the word 'vizier' Ragnar scrunched up his eyebrows.
"A... What? And pig hunting... Oh! Haha I see! Oh yes, play your games woman! Hahaha. A pig heh! We'll see how you feel in time. Brother Norri here says you're a Turfling, is that so? What's the truth of your people? Be you all demonkin?"
Looking to Grub.
"Now, I hired you to. Be my guide yes? And you know my intentions, so where will you be guiding me?"
Ciri chuckles. "I'm no relative of the sod. Tiefling, yes. Demonspawn. Hellspawn. The damned: you know, damned from birth? So they say. Truth be told, our parents can both be quite human. Sometimes we arise from an old sin far back in the bloodline. Where I'm from, we are the lowest of the low. Out here, we can be whatever we make of ourselves." Her eyes narrow. "And nobody is going to stop me from getting what I want."
"Ahaha! I agree. Out here is where we can carve out our own fate. Yes..." Ragnar thinks back to his visit to the oracle. Can he really create his own fate, he is following a path he had been told would appear... Is that what he wants or what he believes he must do? "So then Ciri Helspawn, what is it you're after?" Ragnar's eyes widen and his demeanor becomes serious.
Ciri grins an only moderately evil grin. "For now? Same as everyone else. Wealth. Power. Ultimately? That's my business now, isn't it?"
Ragnar stares into Ciri, studying her intently. His grin fades and his face grows stern.
"I suppose it is."
I can't fault her current goals, no, they're the same as mine... But the way she speaks... Can I trust her? Of course not! She's Helspawn! How could you hope to trust one of them ... Still, she'll be helpful for now I imagine.
"Yes... Yes I suppose it is. Alright well Grub, whatdya have for us!"
"You disagree, Northman? What is your business out here, if not wealth and power?"
Ciri stomps over any chance Grub might have to answer.
"No, no. no disagreement. My purpose is much the same here in its own way. The wealth and the power will come but they are not the goal themselves. I suppose you're demeanor leaves me wary is all." His face relaxes.
"But I should understand! We've only just met! And as for now our goals align, as long as those hold I imagine we can travel together just fine."
"Yes, I would imagine so friends. We are all out here for such riches! So long as that is a better offer than the bandits I see no reason to stray!"
"Well, I uhh, can't say I'm here for riches, Torag has guided me here and in his wisdom I shall make my services available. Coming across you friend," he looks to Ragnar, " you and your little one, I think was his plan. So let's have a drink!"
Ciri nods and takes a seat at the table. "Agreed. Say on then, friend Grub."
Grub looks startled for a moment.
"Uh...what can I say? Lots of wilderness, bandits, hermits, and some scattering of people who think there is a new life to be had here in the wilds of the 'Stolen Lands'." Grub snickers a little.
"If I heard correctly from the outrider who delivered the message to meet up with our Ulfen friend here, charters of exploration are being written up from the lords in Restov." At this the halfling bursts into a somewhat wheezing type of laugh that makes him sound like a braying mule. "As if they have any authority here," he chokes out.
As his mirth subsides, Grub looks at Ragnar and then at Ciri. "I know a few landmarks and where danger lives, but it's not as if I bothered to map things out or make it easy to follow my tracks. The usual rule around the Greenbelt is leave well enough alone and live well enough."
He shrugs. "So if ya be wanting to head out into the wild to do those fools the courtesy of a map, I can help you survive, show you safe passage, but exploring proper is going to test your mettle. You will definitely have to step into danger well enough and often to clean up these lands."
At the mention of testing mettle Ragnar beams.
"Yes. That IS what I mean to do Grub, you'll guide us but these lands are going to be reclaimed and ruled, not left to lawless bandits."
Opening up the dialogue to everyone at the table.
"So, we will begin here, and begin mapping out the neighboring area. It shouldn't be too difficult in these first few miles near the outpost and we can probably clear and map them in a day or so."
"Are we all ready on supplies? Any questions? After the first week of service I will pay you from my pocket a modest stipend and of course, I offer you a share of any loot the bandits may have. Keep in mind I mean to turn these lands to a true kingdom and any resources to that end will. Be most valuable, your actions will not be forgotten, good or bad."
"Excuse me?" comes a motherly voice. Svetlana is crossing the patch of ground between the main building. Oleg reaches out a hand as if to try and stop her, but then crosses his arms and grunts, a sour look on his face.
She approaches the group at the tables a tad hesitantly. Then taking a deep breath she says, "You will have to forgive me. I...we had thought that you were the party sent to help us. I sent a message over a month ago regarding some bandits which have been harassing Oleg and myself. We had hoped..." she trails off with an embarrassed expression. Another deep breath. "We had hoped you were the ones they had sent to help us. We weren't sure if they were sending Brevovian soldiers or hired swords...when you were traveling here, by chance did you see such an armed party?"
Ciri glances at the others. "I can't speak for these gentlemen, but I certainly did not. Of course, I tend to avoid large groups of armed men when traveling alone. It can be difficult to tell honest soldiers and mercenaries from brigands. And sometimes, they are one and the same."
"But if you need help, I'm full willing to get rid of the bandits, particularly if you can spare a bed each night and a bowl or two of stew - what Grub doesn't eat - each day."
"No m'am I'm afraid we are not those men. Nor did I see any such on my travels. However it would seem that our fair haired friend here has the a similar goal. I'm sure we can, at the very least look inta it for ya!
What dya say Ragnar?"
"Aye, it would seem miss that no such help has been seen. I know I didn't come across any soldiers on my journey. However, I can offer my assistance and Im sure my fellow warriors would help. We will gladly go out and investigate. Indeed it was what we were going to be doing anyways. I would ask that you keep an eye on th--my little one for me, I don't wish to take her into the bandits way with me. And, if you could provide us with further room and board while we look into it, that would be greatly appreciated."
"Oh...well, I must say, we greatly appreciate your kindness and courage...but it won't be required to go and find them..." Svetlana looks down and fiddles with her apron her voice trailing off in what might be embarassment.
Oleg grunts from his position leaning on the wall.
As if that jolted her out of her reverie, Svetlana finishes her thought.
"They come to raid our supplies pretty often...and if their pattern holds true, some of them will be here tomorrow."
"Oh, well, how convenient. This is a regular racket they have then? I suppose we can wait around another day before venturing out. How sure are you'll they'll be here tomorrow? How many do they usually arrive with? Anything at all you may know we could use."
Ciri's eyes light up and she smiles happily. "They're coming here?" she laughs, "How convenient. It will save us shoe leather." She rubs her hands together with glee. "Yes, tell us all about them so we can prepare for the party!"
Oleg scowls. He stops his leaning and walks back over to the wild pig on the spit. He begins to turn it and apply his sauce once more. He stands half turned though and listens to his wife as she begins to speak.
"About three months ago, the bandits first came...there were probably 10 or more. A very foul-mouthed woman who carried a two hatchets did most of the talking. She insisted we begin to pay 'taxes' to them or else they would burn the trading post down around our heads. She was cruel and mean just...just because," Svetlana lets out a small sob here, "she took my wedding ring right off of my hand. She said that she should have that since she let my Oleg live." Svetlana grips her apron tightly and is very obviously distressed.
"They don't all come anymore. The last few times it's only been about half of them led by a man in a dirty cloak with a bow, but...but we don't have much left. We end up giving them most of the money we are making from the few hunters and hermits around here. We aren't going to be able to make it much longer if they aren't stopped. We thank you so much for offering to help us."
Oleg's lips compress into thin white lines. It's obvious the man is proud and doesn't approve of having to ask for help, but his silence as his wife pleas for help proves that even he knows it's time to ask for assistance.
"We offer you free lodgings and food for this service, and you're welcome to any of the supplies we have to use if you should need them to fight the bandits." At this Oleg makes a strangled noise and truns to face his wife, his mouth agape. Svetlana gives him a very even look, and after a few seconds, Oleg grunts in disapproval but says nothing to contradict her.
"We...we hope that you will be safe," she offers a sad, but still motherly smile to everyone.
"Thank you for telling us this Svetlana, it will help us to solve this problem."
Ragnar turns to the table.
"Well, I won't say outright ambush them. But I don't expect it'll go easy. How about this. Subotai, you'll be perched atop the roof, somewhere you can have clear shots with the courtyard. I, and..." Ragnar looks between the dwarf and tiefling, " Brother Norri, we will meet the bandits when they arrive. We'll wait at a table until the group of them get in close, we won't want any of them to escape and warn the rest of them. You, Ciri, perhaps we can find a place out of sight for you, to come in behind them? Maybe take one alive to lead us to the rest of them? Grub, might you have an idea where the bandits hideout is? What are your thoughts?"
Ragnar still mistaking Ciri for some sort of simple thief or cutthroat thinks she'll fit the role he has assigned her just fine. Subotai boasts of his bow and Norri looks capable with his hammer.
"Svetlana! Quickly, when do hey arrive? At dusk. Midday? And Oleg!" Ragnar calls out to the man, "I understand your pride may be hurt, so join us when the inevitable fighting starts. Take back your pride from their hides!"
"Aye! My eye is sharp, much sharper than my blade. I will lay away until they are close. They will have no chance!"
"I can't say I want to shed blood much ay, but if it comes ta blows I'll be there."
Ciri hops up from the table and gives Ragnar a ridiculously ornate bow. "As you will, Your Higness," she says humbly. She crooks a long finger at poor Grub. "You. With me. Help me find a good hidey-hole, maybe outside the palisade? Elevated would work, too, but I bet Subotai wants a nice perch to shoot from. Can you use the roof, archer?"
Ragnar isn't sure about Ciri's bow and quip, he almost takes offense but he isn't sure it's meant in such a way.
"Don't call me that...At least not yet haha! Alright good, I'm glad we're in agreement. Let's get ready."
Ragnar looks to Oleg again.
"I'll see you in battle tomorrow Oleg."
Oleg and Svetlana show the adventurers around making sure they are familiar with the layout of the Wilderness Trade a former frontier fort.
Levetons sleep.