"First warrior? That means you're very highly ranked. . . ." Tal'ariel stops and considers the implications. She has an idea. One she feels the need to speak in common so everyone understands. She only hoped the hobgoblin also understood.
"Do you understand common? It seems to me that if you are a First Warrior, your people would want you back. As much as I and other more mercenary types might profit from allowing your raids to continue, I'd actually just prefer they stop. So, if you're as . . . honorable . . . as you say, what about an agreement. We ransom you in exchange for your agreement to have the Stormhorn Clan stop raiding our roads, villages and towns. You go back to your home and we agree to leave you alone." She looks around to the others. "It's a VERY generous deal, you should consider it."
If the hobgoblin genuinely seems like he doesn't understand common, Tal'ariel sighs, then repeats the speech in Goblin.
He just stares at the lot of you blankly as you discuss amongst yourselves in common. He either really doesn't understand you, or is really committed to faking it.
When he takes in your proposal, he's quick to dismiss it. "I do not raid for the Stormhorn, little elf. I fight for the Red Hand. And they do not care for ransoms."
Now this is interesting...
Has Zelligar heard any rumors of the Red Hand?
Tal'ariel gestures toward the red gauntlet gripping a yellow disc imprinted on the tent. "You mean that Red Hand? Okay, so what do they want? What'll convince the Red Hand to stop these attacks?"
"I have no authority in these lands. In theory I'd have some authority in Tian Xie, but as I have no more idea where that is than you do, it seems a bit moot. Take him to the local constable, or ransom him. As long as you do not seek to torture or murder him I am not obliged to intervene on your behalf. I, think. We could turn him over to Yuki, but we'd be here all night."
Yulai seems amused at the thought that she would ever be trusted as a judge, and not entirely certain what else to say. Yuki, on the other hand, is noticeably proud.
"It's not my place either dear girl. These lands are the humans. One day they may fall to the orc or the goblin, but for now they are still human lands with human laws. The penalty for banditry is a short trial and a noose for the guilty if I recall correctly, but I am no authority to conduct either. We'll need the local magister."
"That's the symbol, yes. I'm not going to tell you what they want - you'd try to stop them. You'd die of course, but maybe sidetrack important plans in the dying, yes?" He ignores all the bits of conversation that aren't goblin.
Zelligar turns back to the party.
"He need not die just yet. Nor is there any need for torture; none of us, I hope, follow Zon-Kuthon or Asmodeus. There is magic that can pluck from his mind information about the Red Hand. Some clergy of Nethys can use this spell, as can many wizards."
"Not to mention he could always change his mind after seeing the inside of a jail cell," agrees Tal'ariel. "Let's go to town."
-Posted with Wayfinder
Bran breathes a sigh of relief. "I have learned much of your mettle in these last minutes, thank you." He gestures down the path, "I suppose we can turn him over then." He wonders what the conversation is about, but doesn't bother prodding for now. When Tal points to the tent, he thinks he gets the gist of it.
"I don't like torture Zelligar, I don't enjoy it one bit. I would be lying if I said I wasn't worried for a moment there..." Bran's smile comes back once they start to move. "I can hold him for the duration of the ride. It will give me much needed toning."
Ensuring the bonds are tight, he grabs the hobgoblin and carries him with only minor effort.
Iris rides at the head of the column. She is alert to new dangers and speaks only to her fox unless spoken to. The fox dashes ahead every once in a while, only to return and yap at the halfling. It appears to be scouting ahead on her behalf.
The road descends into a small town built mostly on this side of a broad, sluggish river. Six old stone pillars just from the waters, the remnants of a grand bridge no longer there. In its place, a couple of long, thick ropes cross the river, each secured to a flatbottomed ferryboat. Brown fields and green orchards surround the town.
As you ride closer, a group of armed townsfolk standing guard - three in leather, one wearing a breastplate - call out to you.
"Halt and state your business, strangers." the leader orders.
"Delivering a hob to the local magister. He and his companions ambushed us on the road, they claim to be members of the Red Hand. Oh and we'll want to stay the night in a bed. I'm Sakura, Yulai Sakura. How are you this fine afternoon?"
Yulai slows OS, but doesn't try to keep the ox from ambling toward the nearest bit of green.
"Bran O'Dimm, what she says is true." He moves out from behind the mounted folk and shows the squirming hobgoblin. "I would warn your folk here about them, they were more heavily armed than most."
He gives a small smile, but otherwise Bran spends his time ensuring that the prisoner remains trussed up.
Isawa stays on the back, from times turning his head to watch the prisoner, then going back with curiosity to look at the armed townsfolk. They're just doing their jobs..., he thought, considering Yulai's approach appropriate.
"Yeah?" the leader comes closer to take a look at your captive. Up close, it's clear that he's past his prime, with a stubbly grey beard and his scalp starting to go bald. "That's an ugly one. You're lucky you got through - we haven't seen traders from down that way in weeks. You'll want to head down to the old toll house; that's the big stone building by the riverbank and ask for captain Soranna. She'll take this guy off your hands."
With that, they move to the side of the road, letting your group pass. "Welcome to Drellin's Ferry!"
"Drellin's Ferry? Oh good, that's where we were aiming for." Iris catches her fox and pets it as her ram ambles into town. She stays with the group as they head toward the old toll house. "I'll be glad to have them take our prisoner off of our hands. Maybe they'll reward us with tea and chocolate chip cookies and a steaming hot bath and some gold." She seems excited at the prospect of any reward.
Tal'ariel appreciates the hearty welcome. "Thank you, sir! There's a lot of hobgoblins about. Your commanders may want to step up the town's defenses." As she considers it further, Tal feels a certain amount of disappointment. It occurs to her that the hobgoblin scalps she collected might not be much use if the townsfolk didn't even know about the threat. But it was a longshot anyway.
As Zelligar passes the guards, he says, "Thank you, good sir. I am Zelligar, master of the mystic arts. Have you a wizard in this town?"
"You want Sertieren the Wise. Follow this here road north all the way through and you'll end up at his manor, can't miss it."
"Thank you. We'll see Soranna, then."
Yulai knees the ox in the direction of the captain.
Tal'ariel is also ready to transfer custody of their prisoner and follows Yulai.
-Posted with Wayfinder
"Thanks." Bran begins to follow the two toward the captain, hoping to drop off their captive.
You drag your prisoner down to the tollhouse. It's a squat, windowless tower, doubtlessly built to command the approach to the now ruined bridge.
The gate to the tower is open, the portcullis raised, and a guardsman stands watch outside.
The other houses being almost exclusively wooden single-story affairs, this military building stands out a lot.
The guard stares at you evenly as you approach.
Tal'ariel hails the guard. "We are here to see Captain Soranna. We have a hobgoblin prisoner who has led raids on the road from Andorra. It seems something called the Red Hand is marshaling hobgoblins from various tribes."
Iris brings her ram to a halt next to Tal'ariel. She nods in agreement with the conjuring swashbuckler and says, "Yes. Is there a reward for the capture of such an odious ruffian?" She awaits the guardsman's reply.
He seems unsure for a moment, perhaps weighing the benefits between letting strangers into the tower, or having this conversation out in the open where the townsfolk can gawk at you.
In the end, he decides to let you inside.
"She's inside. Come along, please. If there's a reward, you'll settle with her."
He leads you into the tower. Beyond the gate, there's a corridor bisecting the ground floor, a set of stairs leading upwards to your immediate right, while at the end of the corridor there's a matching set of stairs leading left into the basements. Traditionally, that's probably where the cells are.
The corridor also has three doors set into it, one on your right hand, two on your left.
The interior is lit by globes of matted glass affixed to the cieling - they jar with the general look of the building, as if they'd been added later.
The guard knocks on the door on your left. "Captain, adventurers here to see you."
He opens the door, and ushers you inside.
The captain's office is made from the same stone as the rest of the tower, but things have been done to make it more habitable. The floor is covered in a green rug, the walls with bookcases and tapestries of decidedly middling quality.
The captain looks up from her desk as you come in. She's wearing a breastplate, her auburn hair swept back from her head in a knot, and her sword sits on a rack on the wall behind her.
"You have business with the guard?" She leans back in her seat a little as she looks you over.
"No, we have guard's business with us. Bring him in Bran."
She steps out of the way as bran hustles their prisoner into the room.
"Hobgoblins, claiming to be Of the Red Hand, they ambushed us on the road. We took a prisoner, and since he was in your jurisdiction we thought we'd drop him in whatever passed for a cell and let your local magistrate decide his fate. Maybe you can learn more from him than we have."
She stops for a moment to look around finally then continues.
"My name's Yulai, by the way. Love the rug."
She nods, barely acknowledging your commenting the rug.
"Just a second," she asks you, before giving the guard who escorted you in a bunch of orders. "Mr Stokes, round up mr Ayerond and escort the prisoner below. That done, take a message to master Sertieren that I need him here at his earliest convenience, for an interrogation."
"Yes ma'm."
She turns her attention back to your group.
"I see. I'll need a little more information if you don't mind. To start with, where were you ambushed? How many of them were there? I'm not familiar with the 'Red Hand'. As for the magistrate, due to the current emergency, I've been temporarily granted power to interpret and execute common law. If he's been ambushing travellers, the penalty would be hanging, but being a hobgoblin is strictly speaking not a crime on its own. Can you produce any evidence of his actions?"
Halfway into her talking, Stokes returns with a half-elf, likewise in guardsman's gear in tow. Unless you protest, they'll grab hold of your prisoner and haul him off.
"You seek evidence of this one's banditry? While I am certain that Master Setieren's skills will divine the truth, allow me to add our observations.
First, this one and his comrades attempted to ambush us on the road. True, our elven companion did attack first, because she spotted the ambush. If he wishes to plead that they were innocently hiding by the side of the road with bows drawn, I am happy to cast Zone of Truth. But I think he has too much pride for that lie.
Second, we have evidence that they ambushed Andra Whitley, wine merchant, and took her goods. We did not identify a body as belonging to Whitley, so perhaps she escaped and is alive, we did find her goods and her journal at the hobgoblin camp.
Third, he admits fighting for this Red Hand, though does not disclose why. Save that they do not seem to be motivated by coin.
There are four others that we slew, and an unknown number that escaped, including at least one spellcaster and a hell hound.
Might we be permitted to attend the interrogation? This Red Hand has piqued my curiosity."
Bran walks the prisoner in, enjoying some of the sights before setting his view on the commander.
"As much as I would want the roads clean of these savages, I hope this interrogation doesn't devolve into using savage methods itself." He's not one for formality, and any semblance of subtlety is out of the window. His face shows a worried expression but when she mentions that being a hobgoblin itself isn't a crime, relief washes over him.
He hands off the prisoner to the two soldiers and gives a little wave to the hobgoblin. "Not only is Zelligar's assessment correct, he failed to mention the undead abomination that was summoned up by them as well. Whatever this Red Hand is, they have serious magical backing for something like that to be a possibility. I too would like to participate, if only to see this through, I don't like watching people getting ambushed on the side of the road for something as petty as coin."
"I'd like to see this journal of hers, please. And if you could tell me where the ambush happened? As well as how many do you believe there were, beyond the five you dealt with? An estimate will suffice."
She is quick to assuade Bran. "We have the town mage consult for interrogations. We would rather avoid baser methods. As for watching, I'd rather you didn't. I understand that it can put the prisoner's willpower on edge if he's in an uncomfortable situation."
Bran is not aware of any local emergency.
"The fact that they have magic is unfortunate, but not surprising. It's been a recurring theme of their raids."
Isawa stays in silence, looking at the captain. Finally, however, he speaks.
Probably a dozen, Captain. Maybe more. - he starts, using his slow and monotone rhythm - Like my friend Zelligar said, they even consorted with evil outsiders. Which showed signs of undeath, as well.
"What is this current emergency you speak of? These goblin raiders? Might we be of assistance?"
"The raiders attacked by an old abandoned farmhouse on the road. They had a camp set up a short distance away behind a hill. Their camp bore the red hand insignia, a red gauntlet grasping a golden coin or disc. I'm guessing this is a familiar pattern to you by now?"
Tal'ariel retrieves the journal from Iris and hands it over.
-Posted with Wayfinder
At first, Iris resists Tal'ariel's attempt to take the journal from her. "I'm not done reading it!" But then she hands it to her elven colleague in a huff. "Fine, take it!" She observes the captain's reaction as she reads through the journal.
Iris is also quite miffed with Zelligar for blabbing on and on about the wine. She thinks, "I hope the captain doesn't try to confiscate the wine. That's mine now! Oops, I mean 'ours'..."
"Aye that's fair then." He's not disappointed and just shrugs it off. "What did you find in that journal anyway Iris? I know you never finished but I am curious."
"You say magic is a theme of these raids, what do you mean? I'm not too well versed in the arcane arts myself, but I know a ball of flame when I see it; or is it something more subtle?"
"I said I wasn't done reading it, but in truth, I've read it four and a half times already. With my first reading, all I noticed were the descriptions of where she had stopped to trade, the sales she had made, her expenses, and so on. The last entry described her plans to travel to Brindol before turning south-west into Cheliax, and how she had hired four guards at her last stop due to rumors of hobgoblins."
"With the second reading, I noticed that she used to favor some customers more than others, especially a certain innkeeper by the name of Zoran Canklemeister. She went out of her way to visit him sixteen times in the last two years! At first I thought he must be one of her lovers, but by the end of my fourth reading, I realized that he was a drow spymaster and that she was doing his bidding trafficking sour wine to surface elves in a attempt to lower their morale in preparation for an all out dark elf invasion! I'm halfway through my fifth reading, and I can't wait to see what happens next!"
Bran holds his breath and just stares.
This can't be real... right?
What fanciful creatures halflings are! thinks Tal as she hears the story. But she keeps her thoughts to herself as she looks on the Captain expectantly.
-Posted with Wayfinder
"Surely you're joking." For whatever reason, she doesn't ask about the wine-trader's belongings. Perhaps Iris' outlandish tale destracted her from the matter - perhaps she's trying to butter you up for something.
"This journal, and an investigation of the site you were attacked will be enough to see your prisoner, absent his own confession." She lets out a sigh. "You asked about the emergency: our town is under siege. Several farms has been burned down already, and the hills are swarming with hobgoblins. They have invisible commanders - good tacticians too, which makes the whole thing more of a headache. We think there's about a hundred of them all told, which we just might be able to beat back with a militia, if it comes down to a battle," she muses. "Regardless, I'd like to hire your group."
"I cannot speak for my comrades, but I would be honored to assist. The invisible tacticians can be dealt with, though I regret to say that I have not yet learned the proper spells. Perhaps Master Setieren can prepare a scroll or two for us."
Zelligar turns to the warlock.
"Isawa, do you know magic to see the unseen, or to make it visible to all?"
Iris responds to the captain first, "You wish to hire us? Go on, we're listening. What are the details of the contract?"
Then she turns to Zelligar and says, "If the wind is blowing in the right direction, a few sacks of flour might betray the shape of their invisible commanders. It will be worth a try, yet I would feel more certain of the magical solution that you propose."
"I suppose we might work for..."
Yulai cuts off as Iris speaks, her cheeks flushing.
"We'll work on fair terms," says Tal'ariel simply, waiting for details.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Bran cracks his knuckles, "Of course I'll help. I don't see the need for a militia to be formed unless absolutely necessary, some kid doesn't need their life cut short early fighting with the wrong side of a pike. I don't know what help I can be against invisible commanders, but if you find 'em, I can grind 'em."
"You're probably the best hope we have to go on the offensive. While avoiding a militia would be ideal, I'm afraid I can't in good conscience - we'll need every spear to pull through if they make for a massed charged. As for your group, I'd have you find their main camp and kill their leaders. I can pay you five hundred gold pieces each if you succeed. It'll do a number on our treasury, but then again, money isn't much good to us if we're dead."
The last bit seems to slip out.
"They're based out of somewhere in the Witchwood; your prisoner will tell us where specifically."
"It always comes down to Protection and Destruction, doesn't it? Your militia for the former and us for the latter. Your offer sounds more than fair."