Kingmaker: The Winds of Change (Inactive)

Game Master Odentin

"If Karsh and I are to hide behind the cart, perhaps we can get some boxes or hay bales to conceal us and put a tarpaulin of some kind over us. That way we can hide right behind the cart and not have to break cover until we actually want to move the cart."

"Aye, that is a good idea Numalar. If no one objects, I say we go ahead with our plans and set up the fort for our guests arriving tomorrow." Karsh says going to move the cart outside into position.

"Lady Ansha, after casting your spell do you plan on climbing down to converse with the bandits? Or shall we simply attack when you give the word?"

"I'll play it by ear. If you hear me say 'watermelon,' you know that's the cue though," Ansha replies. Assuming that the plan is more or less settled, she heads off to find a ladder to place against the back of the storehouse.

"Very well. Get a good sleep everyone; we must rouse early to be ready. And may the Nine Princes watch over us all."

Numalar goes off to speak to Oleg, inquiring about some objects that can be placed behind the cart as cover, including a tarpaulin of some kind.

"Goodman Oleg, perhaps you have something around here that will serve our needs..."

Avery will help with the manual labor of hauling the ladders and tarpaulins, but once all of that is done, she will retire somewhere to sleep for the night. If Oleg and Svetlana can provide lodgings she will gladly make use of them, but if there aren't enough beds for all six party members, Avery will also be happy to volunteer to sleep in the stables on top of some hay bales. Once either in a room or in the stables, she will remove her weapons and armor, and make sure to stash them within arm's reach, after which she will start to cautiously rig some obstacles between the entrance and her chosen place to sleep, such as rearranging chairs or rakes to break any potential rapid approach. "Good night", she simply says if there is anyone preparing for bed in the same quarters with her.

It looks like the building at A2 is a bunkhouse for guests. So I'm guessing that's where we will be sleeping.
"Good night Lady Avery. But before we turn in, perhaps we should set watches? In case the bandits decide to come early. I need eight hours of uninterrupted sleep to get my spells back, so perhaps I should take the last watch, and rise before dawn. Karsh and I have darkvision so we can stand watch in complete darkness."

Numalar has 100' of twine and will try to rig up something where the twine goes from a point on the wall-walk south of A2 into A2 (where we are presumably being quartered), either through a window or through the door (the twine would be thin enough to go under the door if necessary). At the other end inside A2 the twine will be attached to a precariously-stacked pile of pots and pans which will crash to the floor in a noisy clatter if the string is pulled. So to sound the alarm someone on watch will just have to pull the string.

Numalar will also inquire with Oleg to see if Oleg has any spears, javelins, or perhaps a sling sized for a medium creature that we can "borrow" for tomorrow (spears would be ideal). If he does, Numalar will present them to Avery, who does not seem to have a ranged attack.

BTW quick confirmation of the plan on the discussion page

Even if PMGM isn't around we can keep up the RP if we want... anyone?

After rigging his alarm system and speaking with Oleg, Numalar returns to the bunkhouse. He sits on the bed for a while, staring at nothing. He then gets up again and takes a large jug from his things before heading towards the door.

"I can't sleep yet," Numalar says. "The prospect of what we do tomorrow fires my blood in a way I haven't felt in a long time. If anyone cares to join me by the firepit I would love to hear about how you came to be here."

He steps outside and sits on the bench near the firepit, idly poking the embers with a small stick. He looks up as someone else approaches.

Is someone there? Or are my eyes playing tricks? Ah, what does it matter.

"I don't expect you to tell me any secrets. By the Nine Princes, we don't know one another well enough yet for that! But as for me, when my father died a few years ago I realized he was a much better man than I had ever realized, and I was much less of a man than I had always believed. I wasted half my life in idleness and folly."

Numalar takes a large swig from the jug and grimaces, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. His eyes are lost in the fire.

"But on his deathbed my father charged me with restoring my family name and heritage. Ah, lost Valdralee, were you ever as fair as you are in our stories? How can you rebuild a dream when you have awoken? The hearth is cold, the morning is gray, and there is work to be done. So now I find myself here, on this desperate last gasp for greatness, on a quest I should have undertaken as a much much younger man."

Numalar looks up with eyes that are somehow melancholy and mirthful at the same time. He rubs his legs as if to wake them up.

"So now my knees ache, my arse is sore, and from the cold drizzle on the road I shall surely catch the chills. But at least tonight I sleep in a warm bed! Heh. The things that seem precious to me now! I once lived in a great house with many servants; spending the night in a place like this would have been an outrage! But it was another man's house and another man's servants. I never realized that I had nothing to lose. At least the things I have now are my own."

Numalar laughs a little. It's all a big jest, someone's mighty prank. You just have to be the butt of the joke to get it! He shakes his head.

Numalar looks up again. "Here I am rambling on, a maudlin old man. I asked to hear about you, and there I go talking about myself. You shouldn't have to listen to that, but what can I say, I am a storyteller. Some of my stories are even nearly true, by Draklar the Fair! Come closer to the fire so I can see you, and have some of this whisky. It isn't very good, but we could be dead tomorrow so it will have to do."

"Well, aren't you just a splendid mess?" Linora chuckles, peeking out from the guesthouse. "Lucky for you I was still awake and caught your tale. It'd be a shame to lose a story to the empty night."

She makes her way out and takes a seat beside Numalar.

"It would be a greater shame to not take you up on the whisky," she laughs, taking a swig from the jug. "Speaking of greatness, I think you and I are taking a trio on the same cart. It's what I love about stories. The heroes within always sound so fantastic and majestic. Of course, I had to be like one of them!"

Linora leaps to her feet and mimes out more swordplay as she is wont to do. The duel goes back and forth, leaping across the tables nearby, finally ending with Linora's 'death.' She makes a choking sound, falling to the ground in an over dramatic fashion. She stands back up, chortling at her own antics before taking her seat again.

"However, what kind of place is this to find glory? Some backwater fort on the edge of the frontier? Bah! Where are the majestic cities and the great champions? No, we will surely die here," she spits through another swig. "I surely hope we do. Fools such as should cherish an early death so as to not have our heart broken by dashed reams."

She stars up at the stars.

"At least we can hope that our deaths are glorious."

Numalar smiles warmly. "Yes, drink up, by all means! I'd much rather this whisky sit in the belly of a friend rather than that of a bandit with my blood on his blade. Heh."

"Nothing wrong with being inspired by stories of heroes," Numalar continues, his eyes returning to the fire. "They teach us to surpass ourselves, to strive for greater things. Heroes take something that seems impossible and they make it a possibility."

Numalar gets up and paces beside the fire for a few moments.

"I agree that this miserable frontier isn't much of a place for a glorious tale. But who knows what it might become? Perhaps we are destined to make this land safe for the spread of civilization, which for some reason has not managed to secure more than a toehold here. There have been nations on either side for thousands of years, but none has ever managed to tame it."

Numalar sits back down and takes another swig from the jug after Linora passes it back to him. He sits it on the bench between them.

"But to hope for death? You're a little young for that. Most deaths are meaningless and quickly forgotten. If we die here tomorrow, our deaths may be honorable, surely, but they will hardly be glorious. What makes a death glorious, hmmm?"

He looks at Linora with a twinkle in his eye. "Quite simply, for a death to be glorious, others must hear of it and admire the person who died, not for the death itself, but what it was for and what it achieved. What is glory, but the acclaim of others? If you die on the losing side of a battle, the winners are hardly likely to tell your story. If you want glory, I assure you it is much better to be the victor of a battle. If all your enemies are dead you can tell the tale without fear of contradiction!"

Numalar chuckles.

"In the stories you have heard of noble deaths, these deaths surely had witnesses. How else could the story be told? Hmmm... a glorious death? Well, if you die to secure a victory against great odds, or to save others from gruesome death, then your witnesses will survive to tell the tale. That is perhaps the only way to achieve it."

Numalar's eyes light up as he is struck by an idea. "In fact, I will begin composing the tale of your death at once... we can fill in the details later. But, in exchange," Numalar wags his finger at Linora, "I absolutely forbid you to get killed unless it satisfies one of those conditions. Hah! Well, is it a bargain?"

Linora contemplates the offer for a moment.

"No death until I have a lived a tale worthy of a bard's song, then? The terms seem agreeable. I shall accept! For now, the world must wait for the grand tale of Lady Linora Avedra."

After a handshake, she begins making her way back inside.

"Now, you and I should get some rest if we are to weave a worthy tale. No sense in taking on bandits with weary bodies. Good night to you, sir."

With that, she returns to bed.

"Good night, dear Lady; sleep well," Numalar answers with a smile and nods.

But Numalar stares into the fire for a few more moments, thinking to himself.

Aye, a worthy tale. Let all of us have one of those. Well, we will se what we are worth tomorrow!

Numalar takes one more swig from the jug, and holds it in his mouth for a moment, savoring the sting of the strong liquor. He spits a bit out into the fire, where it flares into flame for a moment. This seems to amuse him; he chuckles a bit as he replaces the stopper in the jug.

He gets up and stretches with a wince, and heads back to the bunkhouse.

"Who was going to stand first watch, anyhow? I don't think it was going to be me... wake me up before dawn and I'll take the last one."

As the group breaks up to investigate the outpost and plan their ambush, Oleg and Svetlana go about their own business, cleaning up the meal the adventurers left on the table and preparing the Trading Post for the night. They put out the fire, then close and bar the gates, before heading into their home for the night. Once the party finishes preparing the post for the impending attack, they turn in as well.

THE NEXT MORNING - 1st of Pharast - Dawn

Svetlana is up early, cooking a quick porridge for the group to gulp down during their preparations. Oleg assists the group with any last minute preparations that need to be made and readies himself for whatever is to come. As the sun rises, he gives Svetlana a hug and kiss, and bids her bar the door to their quarters and not exit until the fighting is through. She obliges and heads inside, and shortly thereafter the sound of a heavy bar falling into place can be heard. Oleg looks around at the group of adventurers and lets out a heavy sigh, "I hope you lot know what yer doin'."

Within an hour of sunrise, the sound of hoofbeats is heard approaching the gate. As they come to a stop, a number of male voice can be heard talking back and forth for a moment. Suddenly, one rises up, piercing the chill air around the Post, "Oi! Oleg! Open this gate! Or do we need to lob some fire over the walls to hurry your ass up?!" The sounds of raucous laughter can be heard following the comment. Oleg looks to Ansha for confirmation that all is set before marching to the gate and removing the bar. He pulls the gates open and sighs again, walking back towards the holding pen. Behind him, five men on horseback dismount and follow him inside. Three of them lead an extra horse bearing a pack saddle. One of the men is obviously the leader the Levetons spoke of. He walks ahead of the others, sneering maliciously.

Hey, it's Ansha's birthday today!

From her vantage point atop the guesthouse's southwestern end (i.e., the corner closest to A1), Ansha gives a confirmatory wave to Oleg and mentally goes through a checklist. What a way to spend your one-hundred and twentieth birthday, Ansha thinks to herself. Waiting until the leader is within range, her fingers dance as if pulling a marionette's strings and her voice lilts out a near-whispered incantation of Elven words. Casting Charm Person on the bandit leader, DC16.

After the majority of the bandits have walked into the courtyard, she rises to her feet and calls out to the leader, "You are surrounded! Surrender, friend, and we will spare your life and the lives of your comrades. This doesn't need to end bloodily! Set down your arms!"

Waxing eloquent, she continues, "Have a care for the situation you put me in, friend. How can this end otherwise but in grief? Don't grieve your friends, or make them pay for previous errors--just lay down your arms, and let's set things right between us!"

Diplomacy and/or Bluff: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (15) + 11 = 26
Alternatively, opposed Charisma check: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23

As the spell takes hold, the leader's head switches, as if trying to shake off the sudden fuzziness. He stops and stares up at Ansha as she speaks, blinking blearily a few times before nodding. He pulls his bow off of his shoulder and drops it at his feet, smiling creepily at the enchantress.
The rest of the bandits seem to panic. They twist around, looking for the men that have them "surrounded." Meanwhile, a few murmurs are made...
"Boss?"
"What the hell, Happs?"
"I don't see no one..."

One of them draws his bow, which in turn leads to the others following suit. No one takes a shot, but they do seem to be prepared to defend themselves.

"Tell your men to lay down their weapons, Happs," Ansha reiterates, fighting down a Cheshire grin as she addresses the bandit leader. "It won't end well for them if they don't."

By the way, would Ansha have had time to cast Mage Armor in the few minutes before the bandits came into the post?

Yeah.

"Do as she says." Happs barks out at the men behind him. The bandits look at him in disbelief...then at each other...

Almost at once, they all jump back up, onto the backs of their horses. The three leading pack horses drop their reins and turn their riding horses towards the gate, looking to flee.

Ansha, if I could have you put your stats in your Class line, like the others have, just for quick reference, please. Thank you.

"Now!" Ansha calls, pausing only momentarily at the absurdity of the next words from her lips. "Unleash the watermelons!"

She amends, "But leave Happs here alone!"

Then, looking down at her new 'friend,' she remarks to him, "Stay put, and stay out of trouble."

"By Macrathane's Codpiece," Numalar mutters. "Looks like they mean to fight! Well, we shall see what we are made of after all."

Numalar remains in concealment under the tarpaulin and delays until it looks like Karsh is ready to act (call it initiative 12). Then he casts enlarge person on Karsh.

"Abadar be with ye lad, and - OOF! Get off me, damn you!"

Once he has done that Karsh will basically be on top of him, pushing him to the ground, since Numalar will now be in Karsh's space! :) So he will ready his move action to stand up after Karsh moves off of him. At this point he will still be hiding around the corner and out of line of sight of most if not all the bandits.

Looks like Linora is next, followed by Ansha and Avery

Karsh laughs a bit at the Gnome's remark before saying "Abadar is always with me, Numalar!" Enlarged and in charge, Karsh gives a mighty push to the cart, pushing it into place. He pulls out his weapon and yells "Lay down you're arms, villains or else face the wrath of the Judge of the Gods!"

For when it's my turn. I'm not sure what all I have time for, but I assume I can pull out my weapon after pushing the cart into place.

Also, Karsh is a poet and he didn't know it.

Linora leaps out from the stable, rushing to stand between the horses and the gate.

"Vile brigands," she belts out. "This is your last chance. Off of the steeds and weapons on the ground. Unless, you prefer to examine my blade?"

Readied action to attack any bandit that tries to ride away.

Hopping off of the guesthouse's roof in a graceful three-point landing, Ansha moves to intercept the fleeing brigands. Riotous Sylvan words roll from her tongue, and she breathes at the bandits, a spray of similarly-riotous colors proceeding from her lips to wash over them.

Acrobatics: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 1 = 21

Move to a position to catch the most bandits as I can, then cast Color Spray (DC15), 2d4 ⇒ (2, 1) = 3 followed by 1d4 ⇒ 1.

Taking a step out of the stables, Avery regards the bandits warily, her scimitar brandished at the ready. Nobody else has said the exact words yet, so she will, perhaps implying that she has some sort of professional background. "You are under arrest. We are authorized representatives of the law. The charge is banditry." She narrows her eyes and takes another step forward. "Come quietly, or there will be...trouble."

I just realized I probably should have my rolls for the readied action, just in case.

Aldori dueling sword: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24
Slashing damage: 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6

Sorry, weekends can be busy for me... just getting at my first action now. Casting Grease beneath the riders, hoping to catch them should they try and run.

Jumping up, Cal grabs what appears to be butter from a belt pouch. Making a swift sweeping motion with his hand, Cal quickly speaks in elven "Talat enel lanta!" Suddenly a patch of oily grease forms underneath the riders, threatening to topple to the riders should they try to flee.

With a cocksure grin, Cal laughs at his quarries "Come now boys, leaving so soon? We were just getting acquainted!"

Sorry, but I can't remember where Cal is located; anyone care to remind me.

I think he was on the guesthouse roof with Ansha...since we established that the storehouse was actually a fenced in area with a roof that couldn't hold people on it.

As the bandits wheel their horses around to flee, the group jumps into action to stop them. Suddenly, Karsh appears from his hiding place, growing too large to continue hiding. Linora, meanwhile, leaps from her hiding place willingly, prepared to cut down any that cross her, alongside Avery, who shouts her own challenge.
Then, the casters get involved. Ansha dives to the ground, unleashing a blast of light that knocks two of the bandits, and their mounts, unconscious. They fall to the ground in a pile, just before Cal unleashes his own spell, creating a slippery patch of grease under the feet of the remaining bandits' mounts. The horses whinny and slip for a moment, but remain stable. The confusion, however, gives Karsh the time to shove the wagon in front of the gate.
Stranded, surrounded, with only each other left, and a patch of slippery ground beneath their mounts' feet, the remaining bandits throw their hands up and sag their shoulders in defeat. Happs shakes his head sadly as he approaches the scene. He walks up beside Ansha, and she feels his hand meet (and squeeze) her backside, "They never were the brightest." he states causally.

Apparently used to this sort of attention, Ansha hardly even flinches. (Truth be told, she's encouraged it when it's suited her purposes...like now.) She gives Happs a knowing look and smiles crookedly. "Aye, that much is obvious," she says, her tone wry. The enchantress motions for Happs to follow her as she heads for the nearer of the outdoor tables nearby, taking a seat and motioning for Happs to do likewise.

Trusting her comrades to do a better job tying up the other bandits than she could, she rests her elbows on the table, weaving her fingers together and cradling her chin atop them attentively as she says, "So, while they get the bound-with-rope treatment, why don't you fill me in on what you've been up to the past few years? There has to be a story to how you ended up a bandit."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (19) + 11 = 30

Numalar gets up and brushes himself off. With a little gesture, the dust seems to magically scatter from his clothes. He casts prestidigitation to clean himself off.

"Ah, much better. Mister Shieldborn, perhaps you would do the honours in securing these men while you retain your geometric advantage. Someone stronger than I should see to that, surely."

He goes over to the bandits and eyes them up and down. "So how shall we tell you apart, eh? Ah! I know."

Prestidigitation is still active for an hour so I will use it's ability to color things.

Numalar passes his hand in front of the face of each bandit. the word "BANDIT" appears on their foreheads, one purple, one green, one blue, and one red. They may get a save against it but if it is allowed I will keep trying until it works.

"There we are! Color coding makes things much more convenient, wouldn't you say?"

Numalar starts rummaging around in his jacket, until he finds the charter that brought him here.

"In case you are wondering by what right we accosted you here, as if our force of arms was not enough, allow me to read to you from our charter:

(Ahem) Be it so known that the bearer of this charter has been charged by the Swordlords of Restov, blah blah, etcetera and so forth, ah yes. The carrier of this charter should also strive against banditry and other unlawful behavior to be encountered. The punishment for unrepentant banditry remains, as always, execution by sword or rope. So witnessed, et cetera, et cetera, Lord Noleski Surtova, and so on."

Numalar folds up and tucks away the charter.

"So there it is. Surely you had to imagine that if you robbed the same person at the same time and the same place over and over again, someone would intervene, eh?" Numalar gives the bandits a sly wink. "Perhaps you wanted to be caught! Well, your desires have now been fulfilled. Now, are the four of you unrepentant bandits? If so I see no problem in allowing you to choose between the sword or the rope. It's your neck after all! Or perhaps you would like to repent of your banditly ways?"

Approaching Ansha after the bandits had surrendered, Cal eyes Happs suspiciously with a scowl. Speaking in her native tongue so as to prevent Happs from understanding them, Cal interjects

Glancing over at the horse, the scowl on Cal's face instantly disappears at the sight of their first forfeiture from bandits in the river kingdoms.

Going to secure the horses. How many are there in total? Was there one for each bandit?

Heading over to the horses, Cal approaches them slowly and grabs the reigns. "Easy there fellas... wouldn't want you to slip on that grease now; it's not your fault your masters are thieves and outlaws after all."

Taking a look over at the Numalar with the bandits, Cal smiles and shakes his head bemusedly. That gnome sure does loves to talk.

Linora watches on as the bandits are tied up.

"Make sure to make the bindings extra tight. Teach them a lesson for the wicked ways."

She draws her sword and gives it a few quick swipes.

"You know, I rather like the feeling of bringing down your type. Maybe I'll take up bringing in your kind." A contemplative beat. "Yes! I shall be a crusader for justice across these lands. So, let's get started then." She brings the point of her sword to one of the bandit's chins and leans very closely, almost touching his nose with hers. "You! You're going to tell me where the rest of your fellow low-life friends are hiding out or you'll pay with your life."

Intimidate: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15

Numalar wanders over to where Linora is interrogating the bandits. "You better tell her what she wants to know. She's an artist with that blade, and she likes to carve her victims up in new and interesting ways. You wouldn't want to be her next 'work of art,' trust me on that one!" Numalar smirks mischeviously.

"The Viscount of Saraklavic will never look the same after their duel, by Shaliobhan the Silver Tongued! Even his wife didn't recognize him! She certainly wouldn't have taken him back if she did, what with his face all in pieces like that. Two more mouths to feed! Her shriek upon seeing him broke all the windows in the house, that was an achievement, let me tell you. Lungs like that she should be in the opera. Of course if you young men don't fancy the ladies maybe it makes no difference. Who knows what you do for companionship around here..." Numalar glances nervously at the horses, and swallows. "Well, perhaps I don't want to know."

Aid Another on Linora's Intimidate attempt
Intimidate: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13 (I assume the size penalty on Intimidate checks still applies on Aid Another; if not there is an additional +4 here).

Numalar whispers to Linora, "The next time you want to put the fear of the gods into someone, let me know; I'll be happy to enlarge you. Men like these would soil themselves when presented with an eleven-foot tall version of you!"
FYI you get a +4 to intimidate if you are larger than your victim.

Cal - there were eight horses; three are pack horses and the rest are riding horses.

After helping the group with binding and dealing with the bandits, Karsh takes stock of the equipment that they have...liberated from the bandits.

Overhearing Linora and Numalar, he moves over and adds, "Indeed she is. I would choose your words carefully. The Judge of the Gods follow in our wake. To lie now, would invoke his divine wrath," Karsh says and the adds while brandishing his longhammer, "or it would at the very minimum invite mine."

Aid Another Intimidate: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (18) + 0 = 18 Add 4 if you consider that Karsh is still Enlarged

Once the men are properly tied up and disarmed, a good portion of the party comes down on them, making threats and generally harassing the poor sods. One of them actually starts crying. Another, somewhat more stalwart man, chokes up, "We've got a camp, southwest. On the river..."

Oleg assists Karsh in gathering and cataloging all of the gear the bandits had on them. Minus the leather armor they all still wear and whatever Happs still carries, there are four short swords, four longbows, a composite longbow made with stiffer limbs (+2 Str), eighty arrows, eight days worth of trail rations, and forty gold pieces.

Ansha gives Cal a reassuring 'I-know-what-I'm-doing' look as she listens to Happs' story, giving the charmed bandit a flirtatious smile.

"A camp, eh? Which river is that, specifically? Where is it? Speak up lad!" Numalar prods one of them with his walking stick.

I see no reason to roleplay every single question we put to these men (unless you want to), since they are pretty clearly cowed. Essentially in the interrogation, I wish to find out:
* Where exactly their camp is, i.e. directions
* How many people are there, and how are they armed, if possible
* Who is their leader (if not Happs), and what they know about him
* Who else they rob out here in the wilderness
* Where they keep their loot
* Any places they avoid because resistance is too tough
* Any other rumors I can get from them about local creatures, sites, and so forth

I expect Ansha will get more from Happs than we will from these guys but it doesn't hurt to get as much as possible.

Numalar quietly turns to the others after the interrogation. "I admit I am a bit... perplexed as to what to do with these men now. The wording of our charter seems rather... cold in this matter, expecting us to go around putting bandits to death. But these men surrendered, and co-operated, and I feel in light of that we can hardly execute them; when one surrenders he makes a bargain with his captor, and we accepted that bargain, nay, we e'en asked for it. I feel that we must honor it."

Numalar takes a deep breath. "On the other hand, we can hardly just set them free. Men like these will no doubt return to their ways if nothing is done to prevent it. And yet if we march them back to Restov this takes us away from our commission; meanwhile the Swordlords may see this as us dumping our problems on them. And we can hardly ask goodman Oleg here to hold the men that have robbed him of his livelihood for so long."

Actually, SDM, if it is relevant (since we didn't roleplay our receiving of the charters) I can make a Knowledge (Nobility) check to interpret the intent of the charter - would the Swordlords consider it acceptable for us to deliver these men to them? Perhaps this is something they want - it would show the public of Restov that banditry is being dealt with. On the other hand, they may see this as our problem as I suggested above. Am I overthinking it?
Knowledge (Nobility): 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (12) + 11 = 23

Avery will help out in securing the prisoners, and will stay mostly quiet until that has been accomplished and the bandits have been stored away securely somewhere -- perhaps the pits at the north end of the trading post? After that, she will make sure she is out of hearing range of the bandits and will speak to the other arresting group members, as well as Oleg and Svetlana if they are nearby.

"Now we face the real problem", Avery then chimes in after the bandits have been secured. "With the lack of legal infrastructure in these wild lands, we must now become judge, jury and if need be, executioner. First we must ascertain which crimes these bandits are guilty of, then determine what the appropriate punishment should be, and perhaps most difficultly, enact that punishment."

As to Numalar's words, Avery nods in sympathetic understanding, but says, "One surrender does not negate a lifetime of wickedness, alas. If these men have been raping, pillaging and murdering tens, perhaps hundreds of people over the years, then I am not sure they deserve leniency just because they surrender once. Oleg and Svetlana's testimonies will now play a key role, including what they may have heard of these bandits' activities beyond this trading post. We might also want to contact any surrounding farms that have been hit and request testimonies."

"Having said that, we should also be mindful of the passage of time. The longer we spend on this process, the longer the other bandits will have to become certain of their mates' defeat and to prepare nasty surprises for us."

"Indeed, the Lady Starr here has the right of it," Numalar nods. "These men are expected back at their camp by nightfall. If they do not return then their comrades may come looking and will be much more on their guard than these were; if we are off bringing these men to Restov then Oleg and Svetlana might face the rest of the band alone. That we cannot allow."

Walking up to the prisoners, Cal listens to the others somewhat passively as they consider what to do with the bandits. "Eh, I wouldn't put to much thought into... just take their sword hand, and shackle their other hand. Leave enough food for them to be cared for in the meantime. Harsh maybe, but better than death and leaves them incapable of rising against Oleg and Svetlana."

Intimidate: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21

Glancing over at the bandits, Cal shrugs "Consider their lives reward for their peaceful surrender... it doesn't mean they got off freely for a theft and pillaging." Drawing his sword, the impetuous half-elf points at the prisoners "So who's first?"

"Aye, I agree with Cal. Harsh as it may be, they'd keep their lives and may be of use eventually when we have more people to supervise them." Karsh looks out into the trading post and says "We probably have enough time to convert one these buildings...maybe the pen, into a jail for them."

Ansha watches idly from the tables as the rest of the party terrorizes the poor, surrendered bandits whom she told would have their lives spared if they surrendered. Good thing she didn't care about keeping her word.

"I doubt they would keep their lives, master dwarf", Avery says neutrally, and pulls out the charter all of the group have been given. "The punishment for unrepentant banditry remains, as always, execution by sword or rope", she reads from the paper, then rolls it back up and stores it in her pouch once more. "'As always'. Bandits are executed. Always. If you want to send them back, that's what will happen to them. If you truly want to spare their lives -- and I emphasize that we have not yet even interviewed people to find out whether they are fair or vile -- then keeping them here is the strongest option. And that means we'll have to split our forces to leave a jailor here, or risk them escaping." She shakes her head a little. "There are no easy answers in the frontier, I regret to tell you. But I would recommend that we, at the very least, get Oleg and Svetlana's testimonies first as to what these specific individuals have done, before fretting over the decision. For all we know, they might be so vile that none of you will want to spare their lives after we hear all."

It would have been better to ask multiple questions at once, in-character.

Sorry... figured that could have dragged on. Just trying to keep things moving forwards.

1. They've already essentially given you the directions. Southwest, then follow the river.

"That is hardly sufficient, young man. What river is that? How far is this river? And when you reach it, do you go upstream or down? How long does this journey take?"

4. Trappers, travelers. Anyone they can, really.

"There are no other permanent settlements south of here then? This trading post is the only one?"

When the young man sputters his answers, Numalar softens. "There there, young man. Confession is good for the soul! You were caught red-handed and it is time to come clean. Do not hold things back and things will be all right. Now, what will this 'Kressle' do when you do not return? Will she order your compatriots to attack this post? And how soon?"

Numalar nods sagely, as if everything the bandits are telling him are things he already knew.

He goes over to Cal. "If you wish to maim these men, master Aldimay, the removal of the right thumb would likely be sufficient. Such a thing prevents the hand from wielding a weapon, but does not prevent the person from doing simple work. I have heard of this practice in other lands, and it is certainly less cruel than death."

"But the death penalty, Lady Starr," he turns to Avery, "is for unrepentant banditry. When I asked these men if they repented of their crimes, I wasn't entirely joking. Though it hardly renders these men trustworthy, their surrender and subsequent cooperation does point in that general direction. It would surely consume valuable time, but if we were to return to Restov and testify that these men repent of their crimes and wish to atone for them, they might be given a more lenient sentence. Perhaps in some kind of labor camp where they may repay their thefts with hard work."

"I do not believe that it will be easy to find others in the area to testify against these men; it sounds as if there are no permanent residents here - the victims of these men are wanderers themselves. But they have acknowledged being bandits and were caught in the act. I don't see that we need more evidence of their guilt."

Numalar looks around, scratching his beard. "The detachment of guards that Oleg and Svetlana were expecting... do you think they are actually coming? If so we could wait here a few days and turn these miscreants over to them. Though it is possible that the Swordlords, uninterested in Oleg and Svetlana here, gave them empty promises. Or perhaps they thought that we would be sufficient to stop this activity."

Numalar takes a long look at the now-pathetic bandits tied up in the courtyard.

"Perhaps we could give these men the choice. Return to Restov to face trial (though with a letter from us recommending clemency), or the removal of the thumb and their freedom. Without the ability to hold a bow or a sword these men wouldn't be much use to the other bandits, and they would likely have to move north to seek honest work. What say you?"

"Well, if you ask me, either of those options seem just. However, considering these were not our problem, I believe that decision should fall to our gracious hosts."

She strides over to the Levetons.

"Master Oleg, Lady Svetlana, as you were the two most affected by these toughs, what say you to their punishment?"

"They are criminals, and they should not walk free simply because we don't want to be encumbered with them, thumbs or not", Avery says firmly. "I've seen men with nothing but hooks for hands terrorize women and children. I've seen ears and fingers bitten off. There are martial arts that will turn your feet into deadly weapons. I'm not going to stand for letting rapists and murderers walk."

"As for repentance, that can be seen in actions, not in pathetic pleading once you've been overpowered. Anyone will say anything that's necessary to save their mangy skins in defeat. The lack of their repentance can be seen in their having continued their so-called profession. I will believe a bandit has truly repented their past when they have walked away from it without having been beaten first. I would not necessarily pursue someone who had left this group three weeks ago. But this group of bastards chose to keep doing evil up until they met their match, and now they're just insincerely sniveling. If repenting once you're caught was enough, no bandit would ever be executed, they would all just say a few sorries and be done with it." She shakes her head firmly. "I'm sorry, I don't buy your 'repentant banditry' argument. Not in the least."

"Perhaps you are right, Lady Avery, but if word got out that those who surrendered to us were put to death, who would surrender to us in future? It was us that offered quarter to these men. Besides, spending the rest of your life in a labor camp is no picnic. As for the notion that maimed men can still be dangerous, well... I have a hard time seeing it with this bunch. I do concede the practicality of your solution, but it seems to me that it will put us on a path where we must wade in blood."

"You're right, master gnome, that it is a dangerous path to tread. I do take this with all due seriousness. But hear me now!" The Kellid woman spreads her arms to speak. "Ladies! Gentlemen! We were chartered to be the law in these lands. The problems of these lands are to rest on our shoulders, and ours alone. Restov wants no part of the Stolen Lands, that is why they sent intermediaries. Being in charge means sometimes making difficult choices. I ask all of you to look inside yourselves and ask yourselves -- are you ready to be the law in these lands, even knowing the difficult choices that may bring? It will not be an easy task, to be sure. And it will require people who are dedicated to it. There can be no half measures in taming a land. When you go to sleep tonight, ask yourselves this: if a criminal you have given clemency kills afterwards, can you live with it? Knowing that you could have stopped it. For whether that criminal goes free is in our hands, and our hands alone. There is no other authority to pass responsibility onto."

Avery takes another step forward. "Ladies and gentlemen! I am not asking you to be bloodthirsty, cruel or merciless. But I do ask you to consider the full ramifications of any decision to let proven career criminals walk free, including what they will do for the entirety of the rest of their lives thereafter. It is true what you say, master gnome", she motions to Numalar, "that being unnecessarily bloodthirsty will be a black mark on our reputations. But so, too, will being too lenient only attract more lawlessness to these lands. We do not have the luxury of saying, 'well, the militia should police the lands better', or that, 'the local lord should recruit more troops'. We are those militias. We are those local lords. And responsibility stops here!" she points to the ground at her feet. "When deciding the fates of these villains, and all of the ones to come, remember that though excessive mercilessness can be a weakness, so can excessive mercy be as well."

With that, she shuts up for a while, letting others voice their concerns for a change.

Ansha pauses in her conversation with Happs long enough to stare at Avery across the courtyard. Calistria's honeyed tongue, am I surrounded by wannabe tyrants? Sotto voce, she mouths, "Since when did a charter for exploration come to mean 'frontier marshal'?"

With one eyebrow cocked towards Numalar, the cocksure Bard shrugs his shoulders "A thumb? You know, losing hand is pretty standard punishment for theft in Brevoy, but, you know, whatever." Listening as the others debate exhaustively, Cal appears to get increasingly impatient and bored until finally looking over at Karsh with a glance that says you know what I'm talking about, am I missing something..?

Finally rolling his eyes with a light shake of his head, Cal heads towards the shed "Call me when we've got some kind of consensus; in the meantime, I'm going to find an axe and wood block."