"Your wish is my command master!"With a deep bow Faffnyr speaks those words and nothing more.
Arian pauses for a moment, then goes and fetches the rope back from Rombard and gives it back to Faffnyr.
"Anyway, as the others mentioned, what did you have in mind?" she says to their prospective employer.
Almah was taken back by how forthright you are.
"Answers on what?" She looked back to Garavel and then it dawned on her and nodded. "Right. I suppose you want to know why I would hire you. I must warn you that the details would make for a very long story, but the short of it is much simpler. I'm to take back a land that once belonged to my family. It's called Kelmarane."
Then she glanced to Isadriewen and smiled. "I can always use friends." She grinned. "But I sense you'd like to negotiate the fee?" she glanced towards Lark.
Lark shakes his head. "No, I believe the fee you have stated to be fair. What I can not abide is that." He says, gesturing over at Faffnyr. "I do not doubt that you are honest folk, but I can not in good faith work with those who would keep a worshiper of Iomedae's sister in arms in bondage. My condition before I take your gold and do this task for you is that you set her free."
Isa sighs, "I don't want your gold Almah. Tell me about your family's land."
Okaris listens to the conversation and watches Almah closely trying to tell if she is concealing anything.
Almah just might be concealing something, but not because she wants to keep it a secret but for the reasons on wording. Also, she's the leader of this endeavor and she wasn't expecting negotiations to go this way. For that moment her eyes had gone wide and she fought the urge to chew her lip. Arching her back and lifting her chin she regained her composure.
"I can see to everything you're asking, and you will know about Kelmarene. It's ruined now but the Pactmasters have sent me to remedy that. I'm sure you'll learn much about it if you'd like," she said calmly. Then her eyes drifted to Lark. "Two hundred will cover her freedom," she said. Her voice sounded cold as if offended.
"I was born for a singular purpose, to die. I was raised to wage war, tutored by seasoned warriors and generals since before I could properly hold a sword." A grin spreads across Larks face, at ends with stern tone in his voice as he speaks. "I am not bargaining with you on this. I know that you realize your situation, but just so that we are on the same page allow me to explain it. You have a goal, to reclaim your ancestral lands and the village at it's heart. You may not realize it but the forces at your disposal speak volumes about you."
"You have eight men, not counting non combatants or you and Garvel. Enough for a vanguard or skirmishing force, but this force lacks reconnaissance cavalry or any sort of major communication spell casting. The fact that it was camped here waiting for reinforcements, for which you sent out your second in command, is sharply telling that you have no other troops coming. You know your forces were insufficient otherwise you would have moved already."
"You have no where near enough men to conduct a siege, and you lack the raw power and siege weaponry needed to commit to an assault. Your forces are split between mercenaries, paid for by your own coin and an honor guard provided by your superiors as a token of faith. But they are just that, a token. The entirety of this venture in on your shoulders, which is why you have joined the expedition yourself. These are your lands, you need to succeed. Because if the paltry force provided to you is any indication, your superiors aren't going to finance a second try."
"The fact that your here in person is a sign that you are either foolish or desperate, and I know that you're not a fool. You know this is your only chance at reclaiming these lands you will see in a long time."
Lark looks her directly in the eyes, the grin fading away. "I won't make the pretense of being your friend or servant. You know what I am. And I am willing to leverage my honor, and my skills, because you are not in the position to refuse me. You will let this woman go free, not because it is the morally right thing to do, but because it is the most pragmatic choice. To you, right now, she is worth 200 pieces of gold. By writing that off, you gain not only the services of myself, but her gratitude and through these things your village. A prize you have dreamed of, a prize that you can not afford to let slip over stubborn pride."
Isa nods with respect. "Well said, Lark. I second his demand. I cannot be friends with a slaver. There is dignity in every life!"
Okaris crosses his arms, "This is our price Almah we will not be moved."
Almah's eyes narrowed at Lark and then to each of those speaking to her. It took her a long moment before speaking.
"She's yours then," she said and then turned suddenly to briskly disappear into her tent.
Slowly Lark releases his breath. By the Inheritor, can't believe that worked. He thinks as he turns to the slave. "Come along then, we have much work to do." He speaks hastily as he wanders off with a happy grin on his face, keeping his hands close to his chest to stop them from shaking.
Now that I think about it, and forgive me for not having this idea sooner, but would you make a SENSE MOTIVE check? In her mind she offered Lark to buy Faffnyr's freedom, and the module has something about what happens if / when PCs get pushy.
Okaris makes a deep now at Almah's generosity, "Thank you a ten thousand times."
Looking at Lark Faffnyr bows her head."Yes master!"
Lark slows down, matching speed with Faffnyr. "Faffnyr," He says, wondering how to phrase what he wants to say. Crap, how do I set her free? Do I give her a contract back? Does she have to buy herself back? Do I give her a sock? He shakes his head slightly. The path of valor is straight ahead, might as well come out an say it.
"This ah, might not be as glamorous and, ceremonial as you have dreamed about but as your master I set you free. The only master you answer to now is the one in your heart."
Arian looks down and rubs her forehead. "Oh boy," she says.
Then she says to Lark, "Look, you've got this under control, I'll be back in a bit." She hikes up her skirt and hurries after Almah.
Almah is not happy Lark. She felt a little t-boned by that comment. Not that it's any fault of yours, it's her assumption that put her in this mess.
Once Arian was inside the tent Almah, surprised, spun around and reached for the thin saber resting on her shapely hip. Realizing her blunder she immediately let go, drew in a long breath and forced herself to relax.
"It's not just danger, but I need sharp minds and people I can trust to help me. I cannot just go into those ruins ill-prepared."She then looked Arian over briefly and sighed again. "And Garavel chose you himself. Believe it or not, that means something. As in, you're qualified and then some."
Okaris smiled as he listened to Lark set Faffnyr free and remarked, "As it was intended for all people."
Shaking her head once Faffnyr looks unbelieving. "Of course master. What does my new master command?"
After a few moments she continues."Shall I prepare for next mornings foray to scout the city!"
'You do not believe me?" Lark asks, very confused. "Did I misspeak? What is the usual ritual for freeing a slave?" The paladin shakes his head in exasperation. Strange folk, might as well roll with it for now.
"Sure, get some food and rest up, it's going to be a busy day tomorrow." He pauses for a moment. "How is your bedding, is it sufficient?"
Isadriewen smiles at Faffnyr and gently takes her by the arm. "You don't ever have to call anyone master again. You're free now! With us you're among equals and friends."
"Of course I believe my master!Thank you my master, a I understand master, I will wait in his bed and prewarm it. No worries you are not the first master to order this kind of duty to me!"
After Isadriewen takes her aside, she shakes her head."Very cruel, what you do. I have seen that before. You raise hope in a slave and the crush it even more merciless!"
Lark opens his mouth to clarify before shaking his head. Speak through your deed so that none will mistake your words He thinks to himself, recalling a line of advice. I'll just set up a proper cot for her in the tent. I should also give her some more blankets, it gets cold out here during the night. Lark walks away, making a list of all the things he needs to do before sundown.
Isadriewen shrugs, "I'm many things, but I'm no slaver. My mother was a slave - I could never let another person endure such a fate. I understand your fear Faffnyr. I hope that one day I will earn your trust."
Isadriewen helps Lark prepare the camp. "Should we keep a watch tonight?"
Arian returns from her chat with Almah and tells the team, "I tried to sort of soothe her concerns and salvage what we can. No sense having her mad at us if she's our ride across the desert."
"Time for sleep, eh? I could use the rest. My jaw is still swollen from that cactus needle." She putters about to help set up a stone fire ring and gather some dry brush for firewood.
Lark gives Isadriewen a smile. "I was planning on doing so anyway, I'd enjoy the company. Truth be told I hope Faffnyr will be asleep by the time I get to bed, I have never been good at dealing with awkward situations."
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"Give her time, freedom can take some time getting used to," Okaris counseled.
He stifles a yawn and agrees, "Yes, it is time to get some sleep."
Almah was upset but not unreasonably so. She admitted that being seen as a leader. In her heart she didn't like the idea of having a slave among them, especially since Faffnmyr was the only one. However, she didn't want lark, essentially a foreigner, dictating the formalities of Faffnyr's freedom.
"I can use friends, and I'm sure we all can get along. She said with a smile. "Now, if you and the other women would care to join me in my tent for sleeping that's fine. The men can stay with Garavel."
The tents are comoftable and maybe a little more lavish than they should be. There are rugs and loads of pillows, but nothing in the way of furniture. Imagine it how you will. Did you want to talk to your host/ hostess about anything?
Isadriewen will stay up and will talk with Lark by the camp fire. "What a strange day. First the burning wagons and then the whole situation with the goat. What do you think is going on here?"
Isadriewen begins setting up her easel and paints. "And another thing, I'm not sure if I fully trust our hosts. Garavel brought us here under false pretenses and Almah seems to have some sort of hidden agenda. What do you think? Can we trust these people?"
Okaris watched the woman depart. With an exaggerated sigh he turns and makes his way to Gravel's tent.
Lark welcomes the company, taking off his armor and setting it aside as he does his nightly ritual of sharpening and maintaining his gear. As the cold sets in Lark shuffles close to the half elf, offering his cloak. "It can get cold out, take this." He says with a note of concern. "Today has been odd, but in this world we should be glad it was merely odd. Personally, I don't know what's going on. I hope this has been the worst of it, but we have a village to reclaim and I expect some of us to die in it's taking." He says, chewing on his words for a moment before he sighs. "Forgive me if I am blunt tonight. At the best of times I'm rather straight forward with my words."
The paladin stretches, the firelight shining off his pale skin. "It's a trait gotten me in more trouble than it's been worth, being so damned headstrong and bull headed at times. I wont lie, it's cost me dearly before." A haunted look of sadness settles over his face, his hand straying to lightly caress the edge of his sword blade. "I pray I did the right thing today, strong arming Almah like that. I fear I've only made myself an enemy." A slight shake of his head rouses his spirits as the look of sadness fades away. "No, I don't trust them. But their cause is worth my time, so for now we are aligned. I don't doubt they will follow through on their word, just don't expect anything beyond that."
"Thank you for listening, I needed to vent."
He turns his head slightly, giving Isadriewen a handsome smile as he leans over to look at her canvas. "What are you painting?" A note of genuine interest in his voice.
Isadriewen gratefully accepts the cloak. "Fighting for another's freedom is never the wrong thing to do. Almah's resistance to releasing Faffnyr is what troubles me about her. We cannot allow ourselves to be used by her for unscrupulous motives. I'm walking if this story about the village turns out to be a trick."
Isadriewen begins applying shades of blue and ocher to the canvas. "I like how the moonlight casts the rolling sand dunes in a ghostly light. I find that the desert presents the most interesting scenes at night."
"I don't doubt her sincerity in wanting to reclaim the village. She's used to power, to being able to bargain. The fact that she conceded Faffnyr's freedom without a struggle is proof of how much this means to her." He says as he allows himself to relax, enjoying the heat of the fire as he watches the artist work. "What she will do afterwards remains to be seen."
He turns his gaze starwards, sinking in the clear night sky. "The nights out here are beautiful indeed. Never thought I'd see sights like this as a child."
"For people like her, success is like a drug. She needs success to be accepted, to be respected in this area. Fail once, and friends desert, business opportunities are delayed forever..."
"Come out to join us?" Lark asks as he turns over to look over his shoulder at the half orc. "Couldn't sleep?"
Arian stretches across one of the sumptuous pillows of Almah's tent. "I think he just didn't think through the consequences of costing you face in front of your people," she says to Almah. "We still have time to sort things out and make sure that your employees know who's in charge before we reach our destination."
Shrugging Faffnyr sits down next to Lark. "Well, I was preparing the bed when it hit me. You really did free me. But, well what I have is my masters items. The clothes, the boots, the armor, weapons. Only my angel is mine. How can I assist you naked?"
Lark blushes profusely. "I ah, did not think about that. Is there any way I can help?"
He thinks for a moment, before putting an arm around the woman. "The strength of your faith will be a boon, naked or not. I'll see what I can do to get you some clothes, I can lend you some spare sets of mine. They'll be a bit big and the fit will be all wrong but it's better than nothing."
Shrugging for a moment Faffnyr underessed down to her shift. Taking Larks extra clothes she eyes them suspiciously. Finally she tries them on. Smilingly she looks at Lark and remarks innocently. "You are right. They are a bit big.
As Faffnyr strips off the flowing robes that she'd been wearing Lark's eyes widen in shock. Behind the scars and signs of slavery the combination of her orc ancestry and hard work had left the woman with an imposing physique. As she slips herself into his clothes it becomes apparent that the hard labor and marks of slavery hadn't diminished her womanly figure, causing Lark's mouth to go very dry as she pulls on a pair of his pants.
Well this is an unexpected turn of events, note to self be more cautious of those robes, no telling what you can hide under those things, damn.
Realizing he was gawking Lark tears his gaze from her figure and turns it to the sky, trying to find that quite sense of peace inside himself again. "Feel free to keep them, maybe once this is over we can find something cut for your frame."
I can assure you that Almah is not going to leave you naked.
Brushing off the awkward situation Lark turns his head back to Isadriewen to see how her painting is progressing.
Isadriewen's painting is nearing completion.
"Not my best work - I must still be unnerved over that pugwampi! Well, at least we'll never forget the view from this campsite, such as it is."
She offers the painting to Lark. "A gift, my friend."
Lark accepts the painting with a smile. "Thank you, I'll be sure to cherish it." He says sincerely, touched by the gift. "You should return to bed Faffnyr, I'll be up keeping watch for a while yet."
The smell of breakfast had the camp awake before the sun rose. It wasn't dark any longer and the sky held a dusty rose color with puffs of golden clouds floating in it. The earth still held its nightly chill leaving the women wanting layers for more reasons than just the temperature. Dashki was already hunched over the fire quickly devouring his meal with his hands. There was a gleam of bacon grease on his chin.
For the men, Gravael was a very polite and quiet man. He woke himself snoring three times, apologized, and would turn over to go back to sleep. Almah would tie a string from her finger to a pole in the tent. She admitted to be a sleepwalker, and that if that secret were to leave the tent she'd have your tongues.
"Not really," she admitted with a chuckle and pulled her blanket over her body. "Just naked and whipped."
During breakfast, while Almah gets ready, Garavel approaches you.
”A mile from here is a monastery. We intend to use it as our base for taking back Kelmarene. You’re needed to remove any and all possible threats, do you understand?”
Having quickly and neatly finished eating Lark is already cleaning up, doing his personal hygiene routine when Garavel comes up to the group. "Yes sir." Lark says, quickly finishing shaving and packing his gear away. All the while he is purposely avoiding looking at Dashki, the sounds of his messy eating is enough to send shivers down his spine.