Camillo will ride in the back of the wagon or on horseback right behind the wagon. If he rides in the wagon, the horse's lead will be tied to the back of the wagon.
Either way, he will be close enough to visit with Orik if the mercenary is willing to talk.
"So, the intrepid aventurers set forth on a fatefull afternoon, little did they expect..."
Vidar glances over at Camillo with a look that say "Go on then...".
He rolls his eyes, "If I tell now, they will expect it! Have you no concept of suspense, my good man?"
Kerrec will ride in front of the wagon.
Kithian rides the newly aquired warhorse trying to juggle a wine skin of ale and his bow. "And a moster ate them! That is always my favorit part! Make sure you fit that in there somewhere."
The weather has turned for the better post stormy skies and grey that has marked the last few days. The breeze hits the land readily and the smell of the sea is palpable as you make your way out of the town and into the area of farms and wilds that surround Sandpoint. The main coast road is well wide and packed down, easy for all of you to stay close with enough space for the cart and a horse to either side. (Approx 40' wide)
Occasionally paths branch off the road. Some nice ones lead to local estates of lower lords from the south with homes in the area while rougher ones lead to farmhouses in the distance past golden wheat or mixed crops of corn and other fare. Even the occasional game trail meets the road though many of those seem so well worn its anyone's guess if the game comes this close anymore.
Kerrec breathes in the fresh air, enjoying the open road.
Rullis will ride behind the wagon where he can keep an eye on things there. That is, when he is not staring out into the Varisian Bay as the view becomes available.
The day moves at a pleasant pace with decent weather and little traffic on the road. An occasional farmer or traveler shares the space but it is never for long and no drama come from the interactions.
Orik offers a story of himself that seems on one hand almost pathetic but on the other hand all too common. Lower born to a family with poor prospects and little ambition Orik took to using his size and natural talent for violence to make a name for himself in the poor districts of Magnimar. The leap from street tough to mercenary was easy with the rapid expansion of the city and the ever present need for guards, soldiers and other sorts in the nation of mysteries that is Varisia.
As he got older Orik made contacts and friends, mostly the less than reputable sort, who kept him in a stead line of poorly paying work of questionable moral value. Add drink, pesh and other addictives and bad personalities to the mix and the story writes itself. In the last few yeasr some modicum of an ethic arose in the warrior and he got himself clean and started to talk more "upstanding" work, yet without the reputation of other similarly experienced swords for hire, Orik found himself almost starting from scratch.
Orik was fine to "put in his time" as he decribes it, to get a clean name and reputation but its hard to let the past go and he would occasionally lapse into carousing, substance abuse and gambling of a sort that would set him back as far as he had gotten. Outstanding debts and poor advice led him to take on work with Nualia as she accrued various items, coordinated the tribes working together and ultimately plotted her revenge on Sandpoint.
The work was stable, paid well, and despite Nualia's obvious darkness Orik felt he was valued and had control over his destiny. In the time her served her he got clean and felt successful and the money he stood to make (and made) promised that he could afford to be selective with his work moving forward once the cleric's dark work was done. that said it became obvious to Orik that Tsuto Kaijutsu was unstable and that Nualia herself was becoming more and more seduced by the power of her dark goddess. Once Nualia deigned to scar herself and mangle her arm Orik knew he was in deep into something that did not set well.
It was ultimately the attack on Sandpoint and the slaughter at the glassworks that followed that set Orik on a firm grounding to get out of Thistletop. He had hurt people in his work and killed his share of men and women but those were other mercs, low-lifes, or people of ill repute. The slaughter of common folk with families sat badly with Orik and he resolved to get out but wasn't sure how as Nualia escalated her plans and became more paranoid/controlling as her moment of triumph approached.
The events surrounding the escape of the wizard Joyuk, Tsuto's obviously humiliating defeat at the hands of the group and the chaos of finalizing Nualia's ritual gave Orik a way out to contact the group and the rest, as they say, you already know.
Camillo listens to the mercenary's tale with a sympathetic ear. "The easy choices are often the wrong ones, aren't they? I spent several years in Riddleport, originally entertaining a local merchant of means. As it turned out, in any other town, the 'merchant' would be called a crime boss. He began to assign me other tasks. It would have been very easy to fall headfirst into a life of crime, but I had always planned to return to Sandpoint eventually." He shakes his head, "Getting out alive was always more important than getting rich quick. I gained and lost many friends while I was there. They opted for riches and promotion. I did just enough to be useful but not enough to look ambitious. When I 'left', I actually waited in Riddleport to see how my former employer would react - whether I would have a price on my head, mostly. He yelled and screamed about my treachery, but he didn't really care. He warned his lackeys that an example would be made of me and he sent a man to track me down."
Chuckling, he adds, "One of my closest friends, in fact - one of the ambitious ones - and he found me. Because he knew exactly what barstool I would be waiting on. The boss sent him, all right, with a choice for yours truly. I could leave with what was mine and only mine and never return on penalty of death. Or I could remain, pay a highly visible penalty for the lackeys to fear, and all would be forgiven."
Spreading his arms wide, he says, "And since I am here, you know which choice I took. No debt, no looking over my shoulder." At which point, he looks over his shoulder. "Well, not for a Riddleport assassin, anyway."
Orik nods along at Cam and shakes his head, Well maybe I did right by your town and I can start fresh again after I've done my time...
The wizard, you until now has been quiet, snickers, We are set for a a noose or a chain gang in a mine. You think anyone will reward you for turning coward at the last minute? For betraying your allies and being weak at the knees? You are a fool.
"The man's no coward. A coward would not have returned to Thistletop when he realized the evil he was dealing with. He went back knowing it was possible that the madwoman or the goblins would realize his doubts. We found him beaten and about to be burned at the stake. He could easily have left for Magnimar and no one would have been the wiser. My companions had no reason to leave any survivors -- there would have been no one to testify to his involvement."
After a pause, Camillo adds, "But he went back, probably to die. Why would anyone do that?" He lets that sink in while they continue down the road.
Vidar sneers with contempt at the wizardess.
"Even a mage might find it hard to voice her venom with no food to eat...and it is a long ride yet."
Kithian's anger is apparent as he rides the war horse next to the wagon and looks down at the wizard. "And the stick up your bum is getting in your way of finding any redemption. You sit there and speak directly from your arse on matters your degenerate mind can not grasp. Things such as compassion, honor, and most importantly remorse. Almost all of us here , except Sir Shinney Pants there, has crossed the line somewhere or another.
The thing is, we have noticed and came back. Orik here is trying to come back to the right side. You on the other hand do not see the line or even the need for one. That is why if it be up to me I would have hung you and been done with it. Maybe we caught you before you could burn Sandpoint down, but what are you going to do when you are free? There is no telling what evil someone like you is capable of because you have no conscience.
Think about your actions and how they can cause your neck to stretch. Maybe you can seek your own redemption."
The cleric stares wide-eyed at the barbarian, "Why Kithian, that's the most elegantly I've ever heard you speak. You are not all rough and tumble afterall, even better than I could of ever said it." Turning back to the others, "I wouldn't waste your time with her. After what she did to her father, even the Dawnflower wouldn't be able to redeem her."
Kithian looks at Rullis and shrugs before scratching his ass. "I have my moments."
Chastised, the woman sets her jaw and stares out of the cart obviously fighting to not being goaded by the group and your chastising remarks. Orik shakes his head at the woman and mumbles more to himself than anyone, She was too smitten to see the ill she was doing with Nualia and now all she has left is her anger.
Straightening up the warrior turns back to Camillo and to the rest of you. I pray you are right. I don't think I did anything more than the decent thing but if in the eyes of men and gods it is a step in redemption then I glad to have done.
The day wears on and it is easy to find a campsite just off the road as the day approaches its end.
"l shall see if any good places to snare small game exist, with a little luck or favour from the travelling goddess we may have a sumptuous breakfast."
Kithian breaks out his bow and readies an arrow before departing camp. "Maybe I can get a deer or something, who knows what I can find out here."
Survival :
Kerrec listened intenntly to Orik and Lyrie over the course of the day, keeping his thoughts to himself.
After setting up his bedroll, Kerrec will approach Orik. "You and I will be taking first watch tonight."
Camillo will raise an eyebrow at Kerrec's words, but otherwise does not acknowledge them. Maybe the paladin wishes to take the measure of the prisoner before Magnimar.
Stretching, "So which watch do you need me to take? I have no prayers, but I have trouble regaining my magic if I don't get some rest."
I'll assume:
Kerrec
Vidar (Wizard's need sleep after all)
Kithian (Darksight and all that)
Cam
Rullis
The wizard and barbarian set their tasks to the hunt while the rest of you strike what, on second glance, is a rather meager camp. Some of you nighttime needs have been provided by the mayor as a small gear compartment on the wagon contains not only more chain lengths (to let the prisoners out of the wagon without being detached) but a large group tent and a few other meager camp supplies.
Vidar and Kithian return with a solid bounty of deer meat, edible greens and a handful of wild berries that dot the landscape. Firewood is easy to come by and in general the cool but reasonable night leaves little need for more than a bedroll.
During first watch, Kerrec unshackles Orik and gives him his dagger. "It would be difficult to defend our camp if you were bound and without a weapon," Kerrec explains.
Studying the mercenary for a moment. "Vidar believes that your reasons for helping us at Thistletop do not matter. The mere fact that you did turn on your comrades and come to our aid should be a large factor in our help in lessening whatever punishment will be meeted out in Magnimar. My view differs. Why you did it is almost as important as your actions."
"Kithian was wrong. I've done things in the past in order to survive that I am not proud of. But once I found Abadar, I vowed to change and work for a cause that was about more than just my selfish needs."
Kerrec studies his holy symbol and then continues. "I have dedicated my life to Abadar. The Master of Masters teaches us that those who fail in aiding the further progress of civilization through dishonest means are a pox upon all of us. If I am to help you - and believe me I can, chances are you will be facing an Abadaran magistrate in Magnimar - I need to know if the second chance you will be given will not be wasted. Right now I am looking at a man who has made many bad decisions. Do not think for a second that I believe that you have hurt only low-life scum or people that really deserved it. When one's life is dedicated to just their own needs, it can't be helped that innocent people will be hurt in the process. Selfish choices have led you to be shackled to a cart. Your fate is now left up to others. Speak honestly, perhaps for the first time in many years. I want to hear what you plan to do with your life if given a second chance."
"Yes, this will do, this will do just fine."
Vidar stokes the campfire and then retrieves his cooking supplies.
"A stew tonight, with greens as a side, and tomorrow a meat pie for breakfast."
So saying, Vidar begins to cut choice pieces of meat, slice vegetables, make dough for the pie and various other cooking actions.
Tasting the stew Vidar grunts.
"Not rich enough, I will have to remember to buy some wine in Magnimar if I am to try this stew again, but at least I have some herbs to give it a little more taste."
Rullis smiles at Vidar's comment as he tastes his stew. "Maybe tomorrow night I can head down to the coast and spear us a fish to eat."
"*Groan* Maybe you can track down a nice down pillow while you are at it."
Kithian skins the deer, trying to save as much of the hide as possible to tan later.
"Pillows? Only pillows I care about are attached to that fine barmaid I had seen. Softer than any goose feathers I reckon."
Vidar snorts.
"The first pillow I ever possessed I made myself, from a worn sack stuffed with rotten cabbage..."
Orik considers the camp and is not able to meet the Abadaran's eyes easily. But his tone is even and he seems, by all evidence to be speaking honestly, I don't know what I'd do but I mean to do better. The court may take my hands or put me in some chain gang to mine for the next twenty years. If I get lucky, if I am considered worthy of such mercy, perhaps I will spend my sentence in service to the city in the penal militia that some are offered; service for freedom. I'm only good at the sword but I've had my fill of the fast and "easy" life. Service to darkness steals what little pride and joy can be found in this world so I think I'd be better off makin a honest go of it.
Orik offers a shrug and looks out past the camp, Will I be a good man? I'm not sure I know what that means but I will be a better one. I think I was all right to start just lazy and...naive maybe? It doesn't matter. I deserve what I get and I will do right by my sentence but if I can move on, if I have that chance, I want to be worthy of it.
When Vidar gets up he immediately stokes the fire and begins to make breakfast, hot broth made from the juice squeezed out from the deer the night before and two slices of pie that have been slowly cooking during the night.
"This will serve, He comments after trying a bite, Help yourselves while I go check the snares, we may be feasting on spit roasted Coney tonight."
As he passes by the prisoners he hands out a slice of pie and a cup for broth to each.
"Nobody goes hungry at my table, not even bitter fools..."
Good hunts are had, good sleep and a peaceful night as well.
With the rising sun you gather your gear, get the prisoners back in the wagon and get back on the road.
The intermittent odd silence occurs a pair of times in the morning but none of you notice anything odd or out of place save for the absence of everyday sounds. Come midday however you find something new, and quite gruesome to accompany the apparent lack of wildlife; a dead body sits just off the path, blood pooled beneath it. Though the clothing looks worn in some places it appears to be in good shape save for the large gashes in the traveler's basic clothes. Dark, almost black blood is already drying around what looks to be teeth marks and the flies and other insects that accompany carrion have made their way to the corpse. The smell of death is faint until you approach within a foot or two where the rot of decay takes over.
Rullis approaches, holding his shirt over his nose, and knells to inspect the corpse.
"Careful master Stillman, Vidar quickly begins to dismount, It could be a trap! Bait!"
When Kerrec hears Vidar's warning, his instincts take over. Arming his crossbow he stands atop the wagon looking for any danger.
Wary of the circumstances Kerrec and Vidar cast about attempting to see if further threats lurk in the woods. They find nothing.
Rullis finds that the corpse is male and certainly seems to have died from blood loss relating to the bites. The corpse has an odd palor and certainly smells foul. For some reason the face of the corpse seems particularly yellowed and its teeth turning to rot. Much faster than they should be.
Kithian draws his falchion and advances towards the corpse.
Knowledge Religion:
vidar, not seeing any obvious enemies decides to walk over and stand next to the prisoners, bow drawn and arrow knocked just in case.
The mage would not take the chance to cut and run as long as HE was there.