Hektir nods at Quinn's wisdom.
"And now they are down 6 guards...and they'll be down yet more when we get through with Sertane and the rest that have come to town." Hektir spits, confidently.
Tsin continues to move bodies, more to avoid the sightlines of crows than the horrified gasps of village children. She also inspects the bodies for their wares, especially daggers.
"Let's have some answers. Who is Sertane, Hektir?"
You think Quinn's spell is about to wear off the man as you talk.
Tsin turns to the soldier, sensing something about Quinn's magic as it shimmers. She rips a piece of clothing from one of the fallen soldiers, hopefully bloodstained, and moves quickly to the soon-to-be-loose captive.
"Gentlemen, a little assistance removing this one from the public eye?" She stuffs the rag into his mouth, and readies to grapple him back into Nadya's home.
"Jeg beklager, men barna trenger deg i live. Vi skal dra til Pale Tower, men jeg tror du bør ta turen gjennom portalen til vårt hjem, Helden. Du og din familie vil være trygg der!" Pems cries to Nadya, trying to reason with her.
Hektir helps Tsin and Pems interrogate the prisoner.
"Pems, can you tell our friendly guard here that he just experienced my gentle spell and if he so much as yells or runs he'll experience my painful spells."
Pems obliges, calling out to the guard. "Jeg ville bo hvis jeg var deg. Kvinnen er en slakter og mennene ofte spiser folk i live hvis de ikke gjør det de blir fortalt. Også hans neste spell vil føre til at testiklene og øyne til å eksplodere fra kroppen din. Og la deg i live til å oppleve det."
Hektir looks at Pems, then at Mal.
"Would one of you come ask questions of this man? I don't speak his dang language," Hektir draws his dagger and offers it to Nadya. "Maybe you want to ask him some questions about where they took your dagger."
"Daughter. He means daughter, not dagger." Men, why do they always fall apart with the pretty ones...?
Tsin offers whatever assistance she can to prepare the unfortunate for questioning.
Hektir grunts and spits, unaware that he made any misspeak.
"Yeah, yeah, take this daughter and cut out your dagger...if he won't answer our questions."
Pems will offer to translate any question the others have, as well as the answer.
Questions that Hektir wants answered:
1. How many men/soldiers do they have in town?
2. How many guard the Pale Tower?
3. What else guards the Pale Tower?
4. Are there any secret entrances to the Pale Tower?
5. <spit>
6. Who is Sertane?
7. How many men with Sertane?
8. How many children have you kidnapped?
9. How many have come from this town?
10. <spit>
11. What happens to them?
12. Who controls the Pale Tower?
...
25. (after all the questions have been asked): If we let you go, will you run as far away as you can and never return to this area?
Pems dutifully translates, leaving out the spit...
As the first man falls into a pool of his own viscera, Malavarius spin around and begins to hurry Nadya and the twins back until the bloody mess is out of sight. "Come along children, this isn't something you need to be seeing and we don't want you getting hurt either." He looks apologetically to Nadya, his eyes full with a tired sadness.
----
Once the sudden violence is finished, Malavarius begins to clean up the mess with prestidigitation, all the while muttering, "Dark days we're in... dark days indeed."
Cowed by your threats, the man begins answering your translated questions:
There are 5 more guards in town, at the White Weasel, led by Sgt. Volan Sertane.
There are about 12 more currently at the tower, along with a couple officers. There's also the ravens and the birdkeeper, Jairess Sonn. He sighs as he mentions her. Then there are a few fey, plus Bordegga, the troll who guards the courtyard.
As you ask about the children, the man's face grows stony. "We do not kidnap them. We take them as the witches require. I shall tell you no more!"
Nadya shakes her head. "I will not flee if I do not know what happened to my daughter. You said you wanted to go to the Pale Tower. I will take you there and you can find and rescue her. Then, and only then, will I consider leaving!"
Tsin hears the man speak, hears Pems translate, hears the words 'no more', and takes her place. Her left arm wraps around the soldier's forehead, and the blade, reversed in her right hand, comes around the man's throat. Not much different from a hung cow. She doesn't let go, her elbow keeping direction for the blood spray. Only when the arterial pumping tapers off does she release him.
"The Weasel awaits. We can't allow the six to join the others."
"Well you'll need to give me an hour nonetheless. I've not even had a chance to study my spells this morning before you all started opening arteries and spilling viscera all over the place! If you're wanting those spells we talked about last night, you'll find something to do other than shed blood for the next hour!"
He offers Nadya another apologetic look, takes one of her hands in his and pats it sympathetically. He then turns to find a seat and sits down with his spell book, offering a grumpy glower to anyone who makes too much noise. "Zeno! Come over here, you. Help me go over these, won't you? Hmmm, yes. There we are. Now, do you think they will want to shoot many arrows at us? Hmmm, yes, yes I'm sure they will too. Hmmm."
Tsin winces as Malavarius calls for a steadier way forward. "We can not guarantee you'll have your hour, Mal. When the six don't return to the Weasel, the others may venture out." As Mal settles in, Tsin knows at least not to interrupt.
"Hektir. Let's tidy up a bit. Then, maybe our little one can take a closer look at the Weasel, to watch some comings and goings?" It's not clear if Tsin is referring to Pems or Flash.
Hektir nods along as the prisoner and Pems talk though the various questions that they have, appreciating the man's forthrightness and recognition that helping is the best away to live beyond this day.
However, that happy nodding turns to quick shock as Tsin expertly and quickly disposes the man from his blood flow.
Hektir pre-spit leaves his mouth in a long line of drool as the impact of Tsin's action leaves him stunned. He recovers shortly after his drool has frozen in the frigid air.
"Oh. Yeah. Uh...yeah, you're right, we should clean up these bodies," Hektir finally stutters into action, still a bit ashock after the be-bleeding.
After a few minutes of work, he recovers his mind enough to agree with Tsin's plan, even working on it above his own.
"Nah, we need the Old Man's magic for this. We're going to want to make sure none of them soldiers escape. I think we can find the time for him to prepare proper. Besides, we can set up watch out here and maybe they'll divide their forces yet again. We might get lucky again," Hektir muses.
"Good scouting would be helpful...but I prefer a frontal approach. You and me down the center, Quinn and the rest around the sides. Let's see what Quinn has to say. He and I fought and trained a bit. Maybe he has an idea."
"It feels wrong, killing these men. The wintery fey were unnatural and threatening, but these men seem to be simple servants, it's a shame they don't get a chance at redemption." Quinn looks sadly at the bloodshed about them.
"We were lucky to kill them quickly without any escaping. Perhaps we ignore the other guards at the Weasel and let them waste time here in town while we make our way directly to the tower. Dressed in the clothes of the slain guards we can hope to avoid the eyes of the birds. We need to find a way into the tower quickly, before the alarm is raised. Every moment is crucial if we're to gain the advantage now that we've slain a patrol."
Pemsworth looks at Nadya with a mix of pity and shame. The poor woman has lost a daughter and now may lose more because of them. It was more than she should have had to shoulder.
"I, too need to prepare. Then I'd be happy to scout." Pems finds a quiet corner and he and Flash stare at each other for a while, as Pems nods and grunts and murmurs quietly.
Cantrips Prepared (4): detect magic, open/close, prestidigitation, read magic
Level 1 Prepared (4+2+1): endure elements [X], forced quiet [X], hold portal [ ], hydraulic push [ ], protection from evil* [ ] [ ], snapdragon fireworks [ ]
Level 2 Prepared (1+2+1): protection from arrows* [ ] [ ] [ ], spontaneous immolation [ ]
endure elements gets prepared then cast, forced quiet's slot stays spent since it was used after the 8 hours of rest.
The hour, though it seems to take far longer as you await some sort of possible reprisal, passes without interruption. Fortunately, the location of Nadya's home at the far end of town seems to be enough to prevent anyone from interrupting your bloody work as you dispose of the bodies.
Hektir claps his chapped hands, trying to get some of the blood off the men...most of it was earned while he searched the bodies for loot and usable gear. Hektir puts the saved gear in a pile for later.
After the hour, Hektir arranges his comrades and goes over a plan.
"I think Pems is going to scout ahead, make sure there are no surprises. Once we take out the bad guys, hopefully we can question Sertane as well, we should have enough a day to stock up with what we need before we hit the Pale Tower. Might even be some cleaner uniforms to be gotten," Hektir says.
"Anyone got anything to say? Pems, you let us know what you see or if you need help. We'll be not too far behind you."
Tsin agrees quickly. "Quinn, these men are doing this willingly. They were quick to threaten the removal of another child as leverage against Nadya. If you think them ignorant of the children's fate once the witches have them, you may have a point. I'm thinking that's unlikely, because they use it to cause fear." Tsin wipes the pommel of her falchion with anxiousness to be off.
"No. When we head to the Pale Tower, we leave Waldsby behind us, unmarred by soldiers' presence. Sertane will speak to us."
Each of the six guards has a potion labeled endure elements; a chain shirt, light steel shield, cold iron longsword, dagger, light
crossbow with 10 bolts, cold-weather outfit and 15 gp.
Pems nods, tucks Flash into his backpack and heads out into the snow, making a roundabout way toward the White Weasel...
"Well, what do we have here?" Tsin looks over the longswords, sees the material that has until now eluded her possession. She picks up three daggers with satisfaction, but she spends time looking over the longswords, looking for craftsmanship. An almost indetectable sigh of admiration is heard as she picks the one that she deems most comfortable.
"Unless Sertane has a better, this should do nicely for our assault on the Tower." She swings it, right side parry up, circle down left. Well, it's not a falchion, but it must do for now. She produces her second falchion blade, and tosses it on the pile with the rest.
Pems stealthily creeps toward the White Weasel.
Malavarius innures himself to the cold as he finishes his morning study then calls the twins over and asks Pemsworth to translate. "I say, before we leave I was wondering if you two might help me solve a riddle. I picked up a few of these sweets in town yesterday, but I can't tell which one is which flavor. Do you think the two of you might be able to help me figure that out?" He produces a small satchel that has a handful of small sweets, all of which look identical. "Now, three of these taste like sweet fruit, while the other three taste like snot. Care to help an old man figure out which three are which?"
He wiggles his fingers over the bite-sized tarts as Pemsworth explains his dilemma, and the subtle magics of prestigidigation alter the flavors to exactly what the old wizard says he got.
"Now, don't the pair of you eat them all at once!" He offes Nadya a wink, takes up his staff, and plods out into the snow with the others.
"Now then, where are we going again? I do hope it's away from all this blasted snow."
Hektir grabs one of the potions of Endure Elements.
Might be that I use this tomorrow when we assault the tower. Another burn spell...I'm going to torch me a troll.
Hektir lets Pems go far ahead before following.
Quinn also grabs a potion and a cold weather outfit, disguising himself to look like a guard of the Pale Tower.
Waiting until they are on their way out of town, Quinn saves the crucial bit of information that direly needs to be imparted to Hektir. "Did you see the way the guard sighed about the bird keeper before Tsin bled him dry? Don't get so locked in on Nadya, the real prize might be before us, what did he say her name was, Stareass, that sounds promising doesn't it?"
Pems keeps the spear low to the ground as he sneaks, so it's not easily noticeable. The way it shrank down to fit him was odd, but felt excellent, too. He moves slowly across the snow, choosing his cover carefully.
"Perhaps Quinn and Hektir can dress as guards, escorting Pems, Mal, and Myself back to the Tower? Can't appear from afar that their mission was a failure."
Inside the tavern, Pems sees six soldiers seemingly relaxing, drinking cups of tea. Katrina, looking as sour as when you were in the tavern, seems to be waiting on them, while Emil stays behind the bar. No one else is inside.
Pems will sneak back to the house and tell the others. "Six soldiers lounging, plus Katrina and Emil."
"Do we have to kill these guys? Maybe Emil can give them some too strong drink, snoring on the floor of the tavern serves us just as well, doesn't it?" Quinn looks uncomfortably at his companions. "I know they steal children under the excuse that witches made them do it, but look at Nadya and what she'll do for her child, maybe these guards are the same way, their own kids taken and them forced into this. Those wintery fey and witches can be cut to ribbons for attacking our lands, but I'd prefer not killing the people of the land unless necessary for our own survival."
"You're about an hour too late with your reservations, Master Kestrel. Blood's been shed already and sparing theirs won't unspill what's already been spilt. If you want to keep the people of this village safe, we need to eliminate any chance the Pale Tower or its masters have of learning what's befallen the soldiers here. The only way to save these people now is to ensure there's no one left to threaten them."
He looks sagely to Hektir, "Wouldn't you agree, lad? 'Dead men tattle no tales' or some such?" Though his words are surprisingly brutal for him, Malavarius' tone suggests rather the opposite. Taken in the ironic and rhetorical sense he intends, and added to the twinkle that appears in his eye as Quinn shares his idea, it is fairly clear the old wizard is quite keen on the devout drunkard's plan.
Hektir looks at Quinn and Mal, not sure if either understand what is going on.
"Nope, there will likely be blood in there. However, if you think you can ask them nicely into leaving and helping us return the child and ending their attack on our summer, I say go for it,' Hektir spits, convinced that that isn't going to happen.
"By all means, if you have a better plan, let's do that. We need to close the portal and find out about Nadya's kin. And if you think hugs and kisses will get us there, I'll listen to just about anything." Hektir confirms, then remembers something else.
"Oh yeah, we also have a little promise to the Black Rider...you know, the ones soldiers like these killed. The same Rider we promised to help. The same we're committed to helping," Hektir spits again.
"So yeah, I think we are an army that's been sent through the portal to stop their incursion into our lands, our summer. And I think they are all in on it. They support it. And the other ones supported child stealin'. I have but one regret...that they are making me do this. I'd be much happier buying a wife and settling down in Taldor. You know that. But they started this...and we're here to end it."
Hektir, having said his piece, looks for other commentary.
"Lounging? You mean getting drunk. Give them time, and they'll make our work easier." Tsin sharpens her blade. "Quinn may speak truth, if these men come from the village. If they think of this village as merely a cattle run, then running them through is still not out of the question." Tsin doesn't look at Mal when she says it, though.
Pems sighs. "If we must, let's be done with it as quickly as possible. Before anyone else is harmed by these men."
Quinn frowns, eyes downcast. "I suppose we can't know for sure where they stand on child stealing, and it's the children we have to rescue first, not grown men from their own unfortunate decisions. Let's be quick about it, as Pems says, though it does hurt my heart to condone such actions against our own kind. I'll think of them as tools of the witches, like that awful necromancer at the lodge."
"It's more likely those fools are just stooges doing what they're told. And if they peppered the back of one of Baba Yaga's closest servant's with arrows I'll not bear them any ill-will for that either. Should probably thank them, curse that blasted Old Crone and her lackeys."
"My point is those people," he waves his hand toward the inn, "are following orders. Why kill them if it's avoidable, hmmm? The real trouble's in the tower. That's where the head of this particular snake is, and that's what needs to be cut off. If these fools can be spared, I say spare them. Finding a way to do that and also keep them out of further trouble at the same time is even better if you ask me. Which you didn't, but I told you anyway. I am an old man after all, and when you young fools are half my age you'll do the same. Mark my words." He nods sagely again, then looks to Zeno who just slowly shakes his head.
"But if I can't dissuade you, then by all means, go spoil another of Waldsby's perfectly good floors with a shower of blood!"
Something clicks in Tsin's mind, when Quinn mentions the necromancer. "Wait. You were all there when I drank my tea. How was I charmed away?? Who approached me? Emil?? It's Emil. Looks like Waldsby will be requiring a new bartender in the near future."
"Maybe... Maybe we can lead them away from the town, convince them that the townsfolk had nothing to do with this and get them lost in the woods?" Pems says, sounding hopeful that the death may be avoidable.
Hektir listens to Mal, but is unable know what actual plan the Old Man is suggesting.
Try not to kill them? Sure. As long as they don't fight back there should be no issues.
Hektir runs through what Mal said one more time to see if he missed anything, but decides that action is the better plan.
"Right. We'll 'try'," Hektir makes air quotes around the word 'try', "not to kill them. Hopefully, we'll be able to less-kill them when they resist us. However, we agree we got works to do. Tsin, you're with me. Pems and Quinn, you guard the old man. Any of you want to do any talking to the guards before things happen?"