After making sure the surrendering bandit is unarmed and doesn't have any nasty surprises on him, Ruhk Grabs him by the neck and begins to push him down the road to join up with the others.
"Could anyone check on mr flamable there? Just in case he can be saved to stand before the ting?"
As Ruhk speaks, Imzel is already moving to crouch down by the burnt bandit. Her hand glows with faint wisps of light as she concentrates, laying it upon the man as she examines his wounds.
"Well I have no idea what this was all about, why such a random attack?" is not talking to anyone in particular.
At the captive bandit he says "Who sent you?"
The young witch kneels down beside the now smoldering bandit and manages to quench the last of the dying embers, but it is too late, the man is dead.
The Last conscious bandit, his eyes wide, shakes his head furiously at Ozwald, "I don't bloody know! he whines, "Boss saids we had a job, an' to attack the Inn, and the Temple, but we wasn't to touch any o' the houses..."
Valen's brow furrows at this and he regards the insensate man at his feet. "Sera and I will take these men to the Twisted Tower, perhaps you'd all like to head back to the Old Skull. Make sure Gareth and his family are alright, and to get some rest. Or come along, I'm sure Lord Falconhand would be pleased to meet the fine folk who saved his town. For my part, this all obviously concerns me," he turns to address Sera directly, "And given the circumstances, I think we may wish to speak with Azalar immediately."
After returning with the captive to the others, Ruhk considers for a moment, and then gives a childlike pout as the enlarge person spell stops affecting him and he returns to normal size.
I'll go with you...I want to see what kind of leaders you have here in the south...besides, looks like you can use a hand with that sack o' meat there."
Having said that, Ruhk bends down and hauls the bandit leader over his shoulder, leaving Valen and whomever else that decides to come along to guard the remaining captives.
Here was his invitation. Glorgrim did not intend to let his opportunity to travel pass him by. If he could snag a trading agreement for his clan's ore, that would be even better.
Glorgrim walked over to stand by Valen. "Job should be finished right," he said simply.
Again wet, Danate hugged his stuff and made sure his book was covered well enough.
Listening and staying little bit out, he watches others actions. Thinking what to do and realising that these few people will be leaving, whom he had just met. After so long time without none to speak with, Danate decided hastily I will join... I don´t have anything to do as he try to arrange his stuff in better order and get the back more comfortably on his shoulders
Arikor gave a thought for a moment. Seeing the Lord, tonight? This had hints that they might go out of Shadowdale - out beyond the reaches of home, his haven and all he knew besides Evermeet. This was not something he so eagerly sought out. But, perhaps, this would lead him into that thing most called 'adventure.'
But what were the consequences? What would be the price he paid? He could not simply just up and leave, like many flighty humans. He had a duty, and much to do involving his home. At the very least, he had to visit home shortly, in order to better choose his next move.
"I see - so you wish to see the Lord immediately? I have to ... speak with my superior before I do such a thing. I would enjoy the company, and the opportunity, but I must seek my house 'fore I go any further."
He politely bows, and ensures the weapon at his hip is fastened and there.
If there was anyone who could find out the cause of this, it would be the baelnorn. He would be able to precisely find out who did it, and ... ah, now I have a plan!
"But, I do have a suggestion. I say we let one go free. Let him return to his master like the dog he is." This was followed by a firm wink at Valen, and he withdrew a dagger from his side. Arikor moved to grasp the hair from the sleeping bandit, and cut a few hairs off with it - this was put into a pouch deftly after.
"Now then - I will meet you all at the Tower, since that sounds like your destination. Don't wait up."
Imzel murmurs a short rite in Rashemi as she reaches over to close the eyes of the fallen bandit. He has paid the ultimate price for his crime. The woman rises, looking to Valen. Her first instinct is to go along, but the masked face turns to the town itself. Her sense of duty to the common folk, however, deterred her.
"I am wishingk to meet your lord, Sir Valen." A pause, "But my first concern is those who may have been injured, dah? I am a stranger to this land, but I am belivieingk I can draw on it's strength as with my homeland."
I'll head to the tavern, I eeeerrrr need to make sure everyone is ok, if you need me I'll be there.
Oz starts walking towards the inn when something the bandit said sticks out to him.
I am curious to the importance to the inn and temple however. Please let me know if you learn anything.
Oz enters in to the Skull's taproom to find it deserted, though the oil lamps and candles are still lit. He walks further into the center of the room, when from one of the doors near the back, Gareth sticks his his head out, cautiously holding a meat cleaver in one hand, "Aye!" he seems to visibly relax at the site of Oz, and as he does, Alice pokes her head out from behind him. "Did you stop them? She asks meekly, seeming to be just on the verge of tears.
Sitting, just at the edge of the Ashaba River, the Twisted tower looks as you would expect almost any Lord's keep to look. Surrounded by four guard towers linked by a strong stone wall, A large gate of wood and wrought Iron rests on the keeps western side, though in truth, you can't see it yet. But what draws the eye is the central keep itself. Because the large stone keep is, as a matter of fact, twisted, and looks as if a someone made a castle out of mud and clay, and then turned it by its top just before the clay set.
As you approach the keep by way of the front gate, you hear a voice shout, "Hold traveller, state your business!"
Valen steps forward and replies, "My name is Valen, I am a scout from Cormyr. My allies and I stopped these men from destroying Shadowdale, and now bring them to Lord Falconhand for interogation and justice."
There is a pause, and indistinct shouts can be heard from the inside. A moment later the doors of the keep's gate swing open. Waiting for you on the inside is a burly half-orc with pale green skin and a single tusk that juts from his lower lip, dressed in chainmail and a roughspun wool cloak, a well used greatsword sheathed on his back. Flanking him are two men in leather armor, each wearing a black tabbard with a white crescent moon on it. "I thank you for your effort friends," the Half-orc greets them in perfect Chondathan, "We saw the smoke, but I fear we wouldn't be able to reach the Dale before the damage had become severe." He nods curtly to the two guardsmen with him, "Take this slime to the dungeon!" The guards immediately jump to take the prisoners from your care while the Half-orc turns back to you, "I apologize for my lack of manners, I am Mongren Cracktusk, Captain of the Twisted Tower's guards, and by extension sheriff of Shadowdale. If you'd come with me," he motions back towards the keep itself, "Lord Azalar will me you inside."
The twisted tower:
"Glorgrim of Aeft Stronghold in Daggerdale, at your service," and bowed, before following the half-orc inside.
Imzel was relieved at the minor injuries; fatalities from such an act of random violence would have been a tragedy. The woman pauses as she finds herself at the temple. Random violence or not, coincidences are few and far between in her mind...
She walks up the steps, mask still upon her face and Arget perched upon her shoulders. A hand runs over the engraved door for a moment, before pulling it open to peer inside...
I should go visit my parents before we leave.
As thinks of his parents he looks over at Gareth "Got any tips to keep me alive?"
Standing next to others and listening greetings, Danate was looking around and at the tower. [i]Interesting, I wonder how were they able to do that and not falling down. Realising, others had introduced themselves, Danate coughs and begingsI´m Danate, from Vaasa at service. Wizard stopping as a little bit unsure of previous statement and scholar
"Hold one moment, Captain - surely, you may find my resourcefulness handy! Release this bandit here," he points to the one he'd clipped hair from, "and allow him to return from whence he came. From there, we may be able to procure means to scry him, to further investigate this matter!"
He gives forth a brilliant smile, and has forgotten his manners. He stops, and bows deeply before them.
"My apologies - I am Arikor of House Ghymn'Ousseannia, and I am a fellow citizen of Shadowdale, who is more than intrigued by this turn of events! For that alone, I would seek the completion of this plan!"
Ruhk Scratches his head a little, this was all getting a little too technical for a simple man with nothing but the most basic understanding of magic and it's ways.
Arikor smiles, and gives him a handy wink as he moves closer, touching the sleeping bandit's skull.
"What you do not know, my friend, is that I know of someone who might have access to such power - I have lived many a year, and I am sure he would be willing to help us. The only downside, is if he has a price today..."
He taps his finger to his chin now, his face stuck in thought.
"But, will you not consider this wise action, Captain?"
Gareth gives a laugh at Oz's question and offers the young man a simple shrug, "Buy a bar, is' what I did." He laughs at his own joke and holds up a hand for Oz to wait, "If ye are plannin on goin' off on some durned adventure, then I best make sure ye don't starve. Give me a moment." Without waiting for Ozwald's answer, Gareth turns and heads into one of the doors near the back of the room.
The inside of the small church is almost pitch back, with the only light coming from the glassed cieling, and the stormy night. The church is a small one, with two columns of pews on either side of a raised alter. But as the lightning flashes in the sky, Imzel clearly makes out a figure rummaging furtively through the dust and debris near the table that sits on the alter.
Mongren leads you into the Tower proper, and the keep is a well kept and constructed one, without being ostentatious. sconces light the halls and the stone walls are decorated now and then by hanging tapestries or portraits. You are led into a parlor of sorts. a slightly worn red and gold carpet adorns the floor and off to the side a fireplace roars with life. The furniture is all darkwoods with plush cushioning. All in all, it's a nice place
"Come on, the fire is warm, and we all deserve it after tonight’s fun! Only thing missing is a brew...and maybe a kiss."
With much silence now, he wore a crafty smile. He allowed himself to be led to this parlor, and took a stand leaning against the wall - something uncommon for him, for he was no longer as relaxed as he had been earlier. He crossed his arms, and gave out a sigh.
Maybe if we find someone to send him a message, it might get there. Might be the only way to reach him. But if we can, then we should - he is a font of wisdom for sure.
With nothing left to speak about, until the Lord showed, Arikor closed his eyes, and made attempts to relax.
Danate follow others inside and as soon as he see the fire, he rushes next to it. Nice warmth and good feeling filling his body, Danate relax and watches fire playing as he point his hands towards fireplace and enjoy the moment.
Not commenting anything and completely sunk to the warmness of the place, silent images pops to his mind. Looking around and trying to think what was spoken moments ago, Danate look at Ariko You said something about someone strong enough in magic and the means of finding someone? You aren´t speaking about scrying aren´t you? You need someone powerful to do that. However, I would like to point out that moment we leave that man, he might run somewhere another direction. They must have been though to not come back after enemy has captured them... or well, what do I know. We are always fascinating, humans I mean
Glorgrim studied the surroundings while waiting.
Though he tended to favor Arikor's plan, he realized that Lord Falconhand might have a more direct way of obtaining the information required. Either way, it was none of his affair; he wasn't one of the parties wronged.
But these surroundings, Glorgrim approved of them. Understated. He would have to keep this in mind if he ever needed to arrange furnishings for a meeting place with human notables. Even a dwarf could feel comfortable here.
As Oz laughs he gets a funny feeling that he just missed something, but dismiss it as nerves. "Hey Gareth is there any of that left over roast?"
Ruhk grins at Danate, of course, his grins are even more fearsome than his scowls. For a moment he considered slapping Danate on the back again, but decides not to risk angering the man who can make you into a giant, for fear he might also be able to make you a mouse.
"So, where is this lord hiding? No doubt he was in bed like we all should have been at this hour...but lucky for us we were not, or we would have missed all the fun!"
Ruhks warms his hands over the fire, contemplating the people with him, a Dwarf, as strong and silent as the stone, an elf who seems to contain more words than Ruhk knew existed, and a mage capable of amazing feats.
"You're an interesting bunch, it was a lot of fun taking down some fools together, and now apparently we are planning of sniffing out their lair, take them down and mayhap even get ourselves some loot?"
"So, where is this lord hiding? No doubt he was in bed like we all should have been at this hour...but lucky for us we were not, or we would have missed all the fun!"
"You'll have to forgive me lads, I'm afraid stairs are not the easiest of tasks for me..." The voice comes from the hall, as a man who looks to have seen more than forty winters enters into view. He's well built, his ash grey hair falls loose to frame his face and chin, which is covered in a well maintained beard. All in all, he looks to have the air of a fighter, except that he walks with a very pronounced limp, and the use of a cane. Watching the man for a moment, you realize that for some reason he never bends his left leg. Propping his weight onto his cane in front of him, he looks to each of you in turn, nodding once to Valen, "Good to see you again m'boy."
The young swordsman offers a respectful nod, "M'Lord,"
The older man smiles at Valen's greeting, as if privy to some private joke, before looking back to the rest of you. "My name is Azalar Falconhand, Lord of Shadowdale. I understand that I have you to thank for my little village not being on fire."
From the cellar, Gareth gives a hearty laugh, "Aye, I think 'ere's a bit o' that left." The sounds of the older man rummaging through the cellar are suddenly eclipsed by the sound of glass shattering in the floors above!
"What was that?!" Alice cries out, wrapping her arms around Oz in fear
Imzel halts as the figure at the table becomes visible from the flashes of lightening. Her hand once more moves to her dagger, drawing from it's sheath. Arget tenses upon her shoulders. They are alone and without allies.
The witch cast light spell upon her dagger, shedding illumination into the room.
"Looking for something?"
In the course of his travels, Glorgrim had been in the presence of nobility a time or two, and had heard the flowery speeches they adored so. He bowed deeply before addressing Lord Falconhand.
"Stone shelter and prosper you and yours, Lord of Shadowdale. We may have played a small part, but we neither caused the storm, nor planned to water any burning villages this eve, and the others you know," Glorgrim gestured to Valen and Sera, "played a role more worthy of thanks than ours."
The dwarf shrugs before continuing, "Still, our toil was given freely, and we are glad to have it received in the spirit given."
Glorgrim congratulated himself on not messing up that speech too badly when he noticed that he was still clutching the rain-filled mug of ale from the tavern. He surreptitiously hid it by standing straight, hands clasped behind his back.
Ruhk scratches his head a little, running a finger over his scar before speaking again, this time his voice a little more hesitant.
"There were a lot of strangers today, for the celebration...and one of the two buildings the bandits focused on was the Old Skull...which makes me wonder if...they might not have tried to burn it down to kill a guest...and the only guest *I* can exclude is myself. Of course, they also wanted the temple...which sounds like a place someone would also visit on this day..."
Ruhks voice trails off and he scowls, clearly uncomfortable with talking so much, he quickly turns back to the fire, not really thinking about the lack of respect this shows for turning his back.
Thinking what Ruhk had said Hm... mighty and mighty you might say. Magic is indeed... strong power to control, but how to handle it would be better way to define, who is really strong on it. I haven´t yet mastered quite strong spells so to speak and tricks and feats are in vast amount. Listening the talk continuing, Danate is in his own thoughs. Soon the lord appearing and presenting himself, Danate look at him Danate, from Vaasa at service. introducing and then continueing again Yes, we were or at least I was spending nice evening until the bandits appeared and declared to burn everything donw, well not exactly everything, but it still caused us to take action.
Ruhk mentioning his own theory and then getting hesitant with this words, Danate goes through happening of the day Ruhk might be right about his deduction. They must have targeted someone, since I didn´t see anything wort... interesting for the bandits to target, if not then for the revenge against someone? Any reason might be useful in this case as he looks at Lord
"In fact, the attack came only moments after Valen and his companion arrived...almost like they might have been followed...but they must have known he would have come out to try and stop them, it was not long enough for Valen to have gone to bed and fallen asleep...but that would mean they wanted to catch him, maybe for interrogation or kidnapping...a scout from Cormyr might know something of army movements...bandits sponsored by a rival nation?"
Ruhk suddenly seems to catch his own voice and abruptly shuts up, clamping his mouth tightly shut and looking very angry and embarrassed.
Then reality comes smashing back. "Alice run to your father! I'll take care of this!" Oz runs up the stairs towards the sound draws his dagger.
As Imzel's eyes adjust to the light, she sees a frail figure, spindly even. Dressed in a simple spun robe that's been dyed a dark blue, the cuffs and hems trimmed in silver. The meager looking old man lowers his arms and gazes towards you, his voice coming out in a croak, "Please! I mean no harm, my name is Brother Belkil." You recognize Belkil's robes, garments for clerics of Mystra, The old man looks at you pleadingly. "Please, I traveled here from Waterdeep to retrieve a text of the Lady of Mysteries, and I fear those bandits may have taken it..."
Oz races up the stairs two at a time to the very top floor of the Old Skull, You run to the end of a hall where one door swings ajar, Gareth and his wife Anabelle's room. The entire room is a disaster. The bed is overturned, the drawers have all be pulled out from the dresser and dumped on the floor. At the end of the room, Oz sees the single window, with its curtains blowing in the storm's wind, it's glass shattered outward.
Glorgrim and Ruhk give me far too much credit M'Lord. I delivered a lucky blow to their leader, but without these new friends to aid me... I doubt I'd have survived against them all." He pauses for a moment and grins, "Though Sera did put out the fires on her own,"
Lord Azalar smiles, first somewhat sheepishly at Glorgrim's greeting, though he makes sure to bow his head in sincere thanks, and then at Valen's quip. "Nevertheless, Shadowdale repays her debts, we don't have much but I do promise, you will be compensated. Now as to their motives..."
Lord Azalar listens to the opinions and deductions of the group, "Don't be certain they weren't looking for something here... our Dale may look quaint, but she has her share of secrets... Still, there were many people travelling through," He looks pointedly to Valen, "What of it then, young sir. You are obviously on some duty for your crown, could these men have been look to assail you and your companion?"
Valen can do little more than shrug noncommittally, "It is possible, but Sera and I have been travelling by foot through the forest for days... the Old Skull hardly seems the best opportunity for an ambush..."
Lord Falconhand strokes his beard thoughtfully, "It appears we don't have enough information yet," he looks to Arikor, who has remained mostly silent, "My Captain tells me you have a plan, which involves releasing one of our..."
"My Lord, the prisoners! Captain Mongren bursts back into the room, his green skin so pale its almost white. He stutters, unable to maintain his wits, "They... the prisoners..."
"What about the prisoners? They can't have escaped? The leader was wounded greatly...they are not dead are they?"
Ruhk starts towards Mongen. "Calm down! Uh...please? Tell us."
Ruhk once more scratches his head before looking at the other.
The witch keeps her mask up; she isn't sure just yet how much this man can be trusted. "Please, be forgivingk me. I had thought you in league with the bandits."The dagger is lowered, but the light spell remains. Arget leaves her shoulders, but stays close.
Imzel moves closer, looking at the table. "What was the text?" she inquires.
Arikor clears his throat, before speaking. He seemed to have not been proper, when he intended to.
"Milord, I am Arikor, and it is a pleasure to meet you in person. My plan, however, was t-"
Cut short by the Captain himself, he blinks for a moment. He tilts his head, and walks over to the Captain, looking less than amused. His stance changes.
"What of them? I can imagine they've either escaped, or they're all dead - but these are merely guesses, I cannot be sure either way!" he exclaims, trying to keep good spirits up, even as bad news impacts.
Lord Azalar nods once, "Take a moment to compose yourself friend, then rejoin us." he heads for the door, using his cane to keep him upright as he makes his pointed march for the door of the room and to exit the keep...
Blinking his eyes as Captain run and looks scared, huffing and then revealing his story from a moment ago. Listening and closing his eyes as Arikor, Ruhk and Lord Azalar are thinking what to do.
Going through his mind and remembering the writings of his grandfather, anate wondered what was this "shadows reaching out".... Raising his voice to be heard Possible to show these men to me, Lord Azalar? This... I don´t like it, but shadows stretching out like that is impossible, if there isn´t magic included. I suppose my assistance is needed in this case as he nods to Lord Azalar
If he fails or the room is clear he will move to the window to try and see if he can spot the assailant.
If he spots someone in the room he will throw his dagger at them.
He heads out of the keep proper and across the courtyard to the southwestern tower. The inside of which is simple, one set of stairs carved into the wall leads up to the battlements above, while a trap door of wood and iron leads below. A single guard stands over it. "Open it," Azalar commands.
The guard does as he is bidden and Azalar leads the group down a winding flight of stairs to the Dungeon below. The dungeon is dank and smells of decay and mildew, but that's normal for most places like this, and would be pitch black if not for a torch on either side that casts off a dim light. It is also a small one, with only three cells built into the far wall.
At the moment two more guardsmen stand in the dungeon, their spears drawn and pointed towards the central cell. As you draw closer, you can see why.
All three of the cells are occupied, though the inhabitants of the left and right cell are most certainly dead. They lay on the cold stone, skin pale and faces twisted in agony. Each lies in a pool of what looks and smells like blood, except its as black as ink.
the bandits leader stands in the central cell, his arms raised above his head and chained to the wall behind him. He is drooped forward, placing his weight against his shackles, and the blood that drips from his wrists is the same black blood that now seeps from his dead companions.
The Bandit leader lifts his gaze as Azalar and his companions approach and his eyes are terrifying indeed. There is no pupil, no iris, nothing but pure darkness, eyes as black as darkness itself. The Bandit smiles as he sees the Lord and his companions approach, "ahh... So these are the meddlers..." It says so softly that its almost a whisper.
Ozwald casts his fast look around the room, taking a moment to look under the bed before running for the window. He makes out scuff marks on the sill that are fresh and look to be from a boot, but as he looks out into the storm, he sees no trace of the Old Skull's trespasser.
"By the gods..." he hears Gareth breathe from the doorway behind him"[/b]
Still, something about this seems off to Imzel
"Meddlers?!?So says he would burn people to death, and even worse ruin a man's meal!"
After that little explosion of anger Ruhk looks uncertainly to Danate, the person he considers most likely to have answers to this, because whatever is happening is surely not something that can easily be fixed with the sharp blade of an axe.
Danate looks with big eyes at the men flying on the floor and shock on his face, as he sees people dead and ... with such a agony. He never had heard or seen anything like this, but it was horrible.
Keeping himself from throwing out, he looks now at the bandit leader and all the details are something else. Closing his eyes and shaking, Danate begins muttering words, trying to find some comfort inside him. Slowly, warmth sprung and surround him, taking him inside feeling of magic. Opening his eyes and looking at this... creature, Danate tries to understand what is this