Slugoth continues to attack the nearest enemy.
Brinda retreats safely back to Cyrenik.
Sköllji is unable to land a blow. Likewise, the heavy axe Kandl wields is too much and causes him to miss. Slugoth also misses his target.
Cyrenik's guarded attack is successful, and he slays the bandit.
TAS helps Jexen, who focuses on the other bandit next to him.
All the villagers focus in on the bandits.
The monster looks at all the delicious morsels.
The goblin and B2 looks tasty this round.
Bandit 2, freaked out by the tentacles, turns and attacks the monster with a guarded Attack!
Bandit 3 still focuses on the threat in front of him, V5.
V1 Robos-10 (Seriously injured!!!)
V2
V3 -7
V4 -6
V5 -6
A1 Dead
A2 Dead
A3 Dead
A4 Dead
B1 Dead
B2 -10
B3 -10
B4 -10
B5 Dead
B6 Dead
Leader Dead
Monster -18
Seeing Brinda fall back to him, he smiles at the young girl and gives her a nod. "Stay back and help any wounded who fall. Otherwise, use that sling as best you can." Cynerik quickly moves in now, taking the place that Brinda had just left before swinging at the tentacled monstrosity. He carefully swings this time, trying to keep himself protected from those awful extremities.
Seeing that the Axe isn't working, Kandl tosses it behind himself with a "Here you go Dwarf!" and then gets to work smashing the monstrosity with his quarterstaff.
Jexen tries to recall more of his marine training as he turns on another bandit.
Brinda flings a sling bullet at the monstrosity, fear shining from her eyes.
Sköllji slashes at the bandit in front of him.
Hearing Kandl yell, he looks over to see the goblin tossing the axe on the ground. He turns red in the face. "Oi! Ye got no respect? Ye can't just toss a weapon in-" The dwarf's rant is cut short by having to parry a strike from the bandit.
T.A.S. loads another bolt into his crossbow to end the creature's rampage.
Kandl lands a solid blow with his quarterstaff, felling g the horrific tangle of eyes and tentacles.
Cyrenik turns his staff on a bandit, killing him.
Slugoth, too, takes down one of the bandits.
The final bandit looks around and sees all his allies have been slain. He retreats (action to avoid Triggered attacks), then books it.
Jexen chases after the bandit, blood visible on his blade.
"You showed no mercy, and shall receive none! After him!" , he yells as he pursues.
Cynerik will watch as the terrible beast finally falls to the ground, a wide grin spreading across his face. The last bandit begins to run and Cynerik takes just a moment to see how the battle has fared for their side. "By the Martyr, we all made it." His body aches terrible and his muscles cry for relief. Yet the adrenaline was still pumping and as Jexen charges after the man, Cynerik nods and charges after him.
Catching up to the remaining bandit, he lifts his shield up and drives hard into the man's back hoping to knock him down upon the ground.
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As T.A.S. loads another bolt into the crossbow, he sees his friends slaying the monster and all but one bandit that turns to run away. "Leave him to me" he says with a cold voice.
He raises the crossbow and aims for a last shot. In his arms he could feel the same energy that allowed him to hit the last shots with a deadly precision that was far beyond his rusty physical body. He could feel the wooden bolt laying on the crossbow, waiting to rise into the air and fly with the wind to bring death to the scum. He channels the energy into an aimed shot into the bandit's head...
... but it flows out of his control and vanishes. T.A.S.' movement slows down and he freezes before he can pull the trigger.
Sköllji relaxes his shoulders as the monster and bandits fall. The last bandit tries to flee while his friends chase him down. The dwarf chuckles and pulls the hatchet from his belt. He closes one eye and gauges the distance. His arm whips back and he sends the axe flying.
Sköllji casually walks over to the discarded battleaxe and picks it up, feeling the heft of the blade. He brushes some dirt off and inspects it.
Attempt after attempt is made. Cyrenik charges the bandit but fails to knock him down. Jexen, too, runs after the bandit, but he swiftly dogdes away. TAS lines up a shot, and a bit of bad luck hits as just before he fires his key stops turning and he shuts down.
But admits the Choas, the dwarf calmly pulls out his hatchet and launches it. It flies through the air over Cyrenik and past Jexen, solidly thunking into the bandit's skull.
As the last man falls, a cheer rises up from the villagers! Hoots and hollers echo through the clearing, as everyone is in anjoyous mood of complete victory without a single loss of life on your side. Even with the monster.
Most of the armor and shields are damages from the fight, but there are six sets if Brigadine armor and four shields still serviceable enough to use with a little repair and cleaning.
Five clubs are uncracked or unbroken. Four Longbows remain useable.
Plus the battle axe.
Kandl didn't trust it. It was clearly trying to trick him.
So he kept hitting it with his staff. Over and Over again
Eventually, he would go back and get the axe, keeping an eye on it the whole time. Returning, he would remove it's tentacles and drag them a bit away from the creature's body...in case it regenerated.
Finally convinced it was dead, Kandl returned to the others, covered in the creature's blood.
"Here." he said, thrusting the axe at Skollji.
Taking a seat to use water to clean himself off, Kandl realized something: He wasn't afraid. or angry. or sad. He was just calm.
It was something of a profound realization for him, and he took a moment to just let himself feel it.
Before, when he was among his people and working for his Chief, he would kill as ordered, but there was always a sense of fear, as his chief seemed to enjoy sending his assassins on effective suicide missions.
It was why Kandl had left and never returned to that clan. That, and while wandering in the wilds, he met the angel and took up his divine mission.
Now, however, he was convinced that he was on the right path.
The axe goes flying through the air, embedding clearly into the bandit's skull with a loud thunk. Looking between the himself and Jexen at Sköllji, Cynerik's eyes were both an expression of impressed and disbelief that you threw a damn axe at him.
Turning to the rest of them, Cynerik cleared his throat for a moment and looked over the field of battle. Some of them were hurt, some of them badly so, but they were all alive. That was better than what any of them deserved.
"Strip the bodies, the armor will be worth something. We'll need to cut open that beast's belly, might have something worthwhile in it." It was an unfortunate truth but it was true enough, any advantage that they could get would be worth it.
"We all did well today, damn well. The Martyr was on our side for our side was just." Looking back at the others, he would give a grin. "Damn fine work. You should all be proud. Now..." Cynerik pointed in the direction of where the bandits had come from. "...let us reclaim what they have stolen." In time he would return to bury the dead and give them a proper burial as well. They would pay for their sins but perhaps, in the end before their consignment to Hell, they'd seek redemption.
Sköllji was grinning when Cynerik looks back to him. "Axe Toss champ'n three years runnin' in me 'ome town. 'Course we were all dwarves, so it ain't too impressive." The dwarf waddles toward the group. "That were some mighty fine fightin'! Some got banged up, but we're no worse fer the ware. Speakin' of, our clock whatsit fren is lookin' a little stiff."
Sköllji helps attend to the villagers and make sure everyone's alright for the trip back. Before they leave, he approaches Cynerik and presents the battle axe. "This axe is o' fine craftsmanship. The filth must o'ambushed a true warrior te get this. I 'ope 'e took a few o'the currs with 'im... Do ye think... Ye could try te bless it? Te remove the stain o' evil deeds from it, I mean. I'd like te honor the warriors spirit by redeeming it."
Sköllji holds out the blade, not knowing what to expect. He knew nothing of blessing. Nor did he have any knowledge about magic or curses, yet he feared them just the same. The holy man could hum an old children's rhyme and brush it with a leaf and Sköllji would be none the wiser.
After the "ritual", the dwarf looks brightly at the blade and exclaims, "She needs a name! Something... Gobliny." Sköllji glances at Kandl and smirks. "Any ideas?"
"How about Dagnir?" says Kandl as he approaches the rest of the group. "In the language of the Fey, it means 'Bane'."
"Dagnir... I like it!" Sköllji slides the axe onto his belt loop, triumphantly, and walks to his hatchet. He places his hand on the handle and a foot on the bandit's head to pry the axe loose. "Coward. Ye won't 'scape judgement."
Brinda breathes heavily as she realises the battle is done. Her eyes are continually drawn to the abomination, and she watches with fascination and horror as Kandl pounds and dismembers it to ensure it's dead. As the adrenaline leaves her body, she begins to shake, and sinks down to the ground, sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest, shivering.
Eyes wide, she watches as the others go about their post-battle business, and little by little calms herself. She focuses on the party's defeat of the bandits, and that the townsfolk and farmers in the area are now more safe thanks to their actions. After a few minutes, her expression has settled into one of resolve, although a keen eye would notice the emptiness in her gaze. She rouses herself as the others finish recovering the stolen items from the bandits and readies herself to return to the village.
Cynerik moves along the small battlefield, checking on each and every person for a moment. Starting from the most injured villager, he thanks each one of them for their courage in battle before being approached by the dwarf. The request to put a blessing upon the weapon surprises the older human, who looks down at the weapon for a moment. "Sköllji, I'm not..." A holy man? A priest? He had felt the Martyr's touch and something was different. Ever since he found that book among the wreckage, things began to turn around for them. It steeled him for the night among the restless dead, it strengthened his resolve. Was he so sure that is was not one of the fortunate ones to be blessed by Her touch? One to have the might of the New God behind him? "...I'll try." He could've just mumbled a few things and passed onward but the sincere look in his comrade's eyes stopped any real duplicity from occurring. Instead, he'd reach down and open that worn book up again.
"Let the blessing of the Martyr and the one true God come down and remain upon this blade and those who carry them, for the protection of the truth of the Martyr and her faithful flock. Amen." The words came easily from Cynerik's lips as he laid his hand on the battleaxe, letting go and giving the dwarf a reassuring nod. A few of the villagers murmured among themselves that it seemed like they had a priest among them.
Stepping through the bodies, Cynerik would catch sight of Brinda crouching down on the ground. He was making his way over towards her when he noticed the unmoving statue of T.A.S. still perfecting his shot into the woods. "I think we'll be fine, friend. No one else is around." When the Clockwork didn't respond, Cynerik's eyes would notice that the distinctive whirring, clicking, and other soft noises had seemed to just...stop. He remembered back to Mary, the girl accompanying them, and how she would crank a part of the automaton's body up every so often.
Getting closer, Cynerik would do the same, the body cranking and clicking back to life slowly with each hard twist of his key. Breathing just that much harder, he would pat T.A.S. upon the back and nod. "Are you good now, friend?"
For the minutes after the battle was done, Jexen prowled the battlefield, briefly examining each and every enemy to ensure in his own mind that they were in fact dead. Even the monster, or what Kandl had left of it.
He doesn't even realise that T.A.S. had seized up.
He moves towards the others, declaring:
"We did it. My friends, we did it. The bandits are no more, and this...thing also!"
He raises his sword aloft.
"Victory! Victory!"
He exults in the feeling.
He will have more of this.
Throwing his shield and sword to the ground Slugoth howls and beats his chest in victory.
After a moment he notices the goblin beating and mutilating the carcass of the beast, "Ya think its dead enough yet?!" From there he gets to work searching for gear and wealth the bandits have on them and may have hidden, using his knowledge from his past life as a bandit to search out likely hiding spots. As he looks around he piles anything he finds in a central location.
"In the tunnels I come from, weird creatures like this can heal themselves even from death. When dealing with something like this, you have to be sure."
"Aye. We outta burn the body, te be sure."
The dwarf takes his wood axe and begins hacking the creature to pieces and dragging large pieces to the place the bandit's used as a fire pit. He doesn't want the fire to spread to the forest and possibly endanger the inhabitants of Falcon's Rest.
As long as no one is opposed, Sköllji will light his club on fire and toss it onto the abomination. "We outta leave afore that gets te stinkin'."
As Cynerik winds up the key, T.A.S. body - and his fingers - begin to move again. He triggers the crossbow and the bolt shoots into the ground close to where the last bandit died to Sköllji's thrown hatched.
Confused, he looks at the dead body with the large crack in his head and at Sköllji who was about to pull it to the other bodies and the the monster. "What.. What happened? I.."
Then he feels a hand patting his back and turns around where he spots Cynerik. "Did I stop? I felt darkness. And red flame-like creatures that started to drag me away." He shakes his head and then his whole body with a rattling sound. "Thank you, my friend."
For an awkward moment T.A.S. pauses. Then he says "We should search the bodies for valuables and then search their camp. The goods they stole from the caravan still have to be around and the town will need them." Especially the sack of flour I promised to deliver still must be somewhere around, he adds in his thoughts. He forgot about it but he lost it in the night the caravan was attacked. Then he starts searching the dead bodies and keeps looming for some hints where their camp is.
Jexen puts down his sword and shield, and moves to assist Sköllji.
As they work, he says to the dwarf:
"It must not rise again. And you have done well by the villagers, even in your choice of firepit."
Wounds are bandaged. Revenge is acquired. Safety for Fletcher's Rest is achieved.
The hours pass as you clean up the area. You search move bodies, prepare funeral pyres, say prayers over the dead (or at least Cyrenik does), and hunt and find the bandit camp proper itself. It's not far.
The camp proper is a collection of tents made from materials stolen from your caravan and others. There are a few dead animals hanging, prepared for cooking. There are sacks of rice, bags of medicine, tributes to the Martyr, and other supplies people were bringing to Fletcher's Rest.
A small stack of books are piled bext to the camp fire, many of them with pages missing. It seems they've been usisng them as kindling.
After searching thoroughly all the bandits and the camp, you find the following valuables (things beyond town needs):
A silver cup worth 1 gold crown.
One of the larger books is a tome of magical secrets. Although many of the pages are missing, there's enough there for an aspiring mage to study.
As the day gets closer to the afternoon and you finish up your self assigned tasks, you make your way back to the road, where your own camp is set. The following day, you make your way back to the village. Cheers arise as you're seen, and more especially so once it's learned that not only have you succeeded, but you've done so while keeping all the men alive! You're hailed as heroes of Fletcher's Rest, and given free lodgings in the Inn for as long as you choose to stay.
As it turns out, staying too long isn't in the cards. TAS has his package to deliver to the local blacksmith, which he had learned is an Elf (have you ever seen an elf before? Or only heard of them in tales?); The blacksmith travels from town to town, and only a week ago did he leave this town, headed to Cheqwood, a village located a week from here.
As luck would have it, one of the elders is headed there next week and would love for you to accompany him.
You spend the week relaxing, studying, praying, socializing, perhaps even flirting with a local.
During your stay, you learn that Fletcher's Rest is the burial site of the Martyr, and many people of Faith (in the New God) come here for pilgrimage. They've seen a decrease in visitors as of late. And your diwcovery of the bandits seems to be why.
One of the men who fought with you is himself a pilgrim, traveling from the far south to come here. His own town has started to come up with a tradition of making the trek to see the Martyr, each person should make the journey at least once in their lifetime, and those that do are honored.
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Cynerik was about to say something cheerful when T.A.S. explained what it was that he had felt, the darkness that had taken him away. It sent a chill down the man's spine, even more so than the tentacled abomination that was being hacked apart and prepared to be burned by the others. "I wonder where he went when that darkness came and if it is as terrible as it seemed." Cynerik pondered for a moment, gripping the Clockwork's shoulder tightly before nodding.
"You are most welcome. I won't let the darkness take you without a fight, T.A.S." The words left him honestly, earnestly even. There was a kinship that Cynerik never imagined he would have again. He had kept himself so separate from others as he fled his fears and his cowardice to the South. Now, he counted dwarves, orcs, and clockworks as friends. What strange times to be alive in. "Let us get back with the others, shall we?"
The fires burn high and the bandits are left to burn, Cynerik praying for their souls to find redemption in the afterlife. He stands there alone if he needs be but it just felt right to do so, maybe the dwarf wasn't too far off. Maybe he has truly been missing his calling this whole time? "I never considered myself a holy man. Not till I heard Her voice in the air." Cynerik pondered to himself as he helped the others get prepared and ready to carry the supplies back to town.
When it came to the coin and valuables, he was first willing to share it with all the men but the volunteers spoke up. An aged local by the name of Stedd, he would clear his throat and shake his head.
"It isn't for us to take. You all survived a nightmare with the Martyr's blessing and then led us to victory. If any deserve it, it is all of you." It seemed that the experienced man's words were approved by all who were there. Not too ashamed to accept such generosity, Cynerik would agree as they all made their way back to Fletcher's Rest without a man missing or dead. Truly, a miraculous day.
A hero's welcome awaited them as they returned back with the much needed supplies and with the much-missed men at their side. A necklace of dog bones is hung from around Cynerik's neck, a gift from one of their mothers before she kisses him on the cheek and thanks him for his bravery. While others may exult in the town's friendliness, Cynerik pushes off his contributions and fame to the others. It was their blades and clubs that brought the enemy low. It was their skill that felled the foul beast. It was the Martyr's kindness that led them to victory. He begrudgingly accepts any true credit, shaking his head when the injured Robos compares him to being a general on the battlefield.
"I was just a lowly conscript and I knew how to keep my head down. Best I could do was teach you all the same." He'd say with the tiniest of smirks, looking to the pilgrim that had traveled with them. Pulling the man aside, he would whisper quietly for Kenneth to take him to the holy site. There was a pull there, a need that he had to be there.
A small distance from the town's busy center laid a grave apart from all the rest. Shaded underneath the boughs of an oak tree; prayer scripts, tomes, and other tributes decorated this holy site. Taking out the well-worn holy book, Cynerik would slip down to his knees and clasp his hands in prayer. The grip was tight, turning his knuckles white as he began to whisper.
"Ever compassionate Martyr, ever mighty God, please hear my prayer for forgiveness. I-I have been a coward, a weak man. I have fled so long, so fearfully, that I never thought I would stop running. Please, I..." A warmth would begin to encompass him and as Cynerik's eyes opened, he swore he saw golden light casting down upon him. Impossibly bright, he had to shield his eyes. Yet he could see a beautiful woman dressed in soft blues, her face kind and gentle. Knives were embedded in her skin and her name slipped off of Cynerik's tongue. "Astrid..."
"I know you ran, my child, you ran from that which you feared. But it was not the fear of death, the fear of darkness." This angelic voice said, stunning Cynerik into silence. "You ran from being powerless. Feeble. Weak. Yet now you know, you were never weak."
"Cynerik Salt, you are blessed in His eyes. You have suffered much and, sadly, will suffer more. Yet you will be a blazing star in the North. You will take the darkness in you and burn it asunder. Guide them. Teach them. Protect them. This...is your calling. Know that you are forever loved and forever welcome under His eyes." She was so close, so brilliantly close. Cynerik's eyes closed when she reached to touch his face and then that shining light was gone. The Martyr's presence was no longer there but that warmth, that powerful warmth, resonated within his stomach.
Tears had streamed down Cynerik's face as he picked up that leather book, clutching it to his chest before he looked up in the sky. "I vow I will accept your task, my Lord. I will be a burning star, I promise." With surer feet than he ever could remember having, Cynerik rose up once more. Heading down the steps, Stedd was awaiting him there. The pilgrim's eyes widened at the man's appearance, stepping in close. "You felt Her presence, didn't you?" He asked excitedly, which brought a smile to Cynerik's face.
"Even more than that. I accepted her charge to me, friend." There was a look of confusion upon Stedd's face and Cynerik would laugh softly, shaking his head. "Let us return to the others, shall we?" With less heavy feet, Cynerik would walk alongside the pilgrim back to the center of town where the inn was waiting.
Having washed his face in the basin outside, Cynerik didn't look like the teary mess that he had been a little while ago. Entering into the inn, he would sit down beside the others just as the coins were being put out onto the table. Giving a quiet prayer for thanks, Cynerik would look to each of them.
"It would seem our task together is done. We have all made it to Fletcher's Rest. For some of us, this will be our last time together." Cynerik would let that sit in the air then, looking at each of them before he continued. "However, I would like to make a proposition to you all..."
"We have shown great teamwork together, great skill in survival as well. We may have butt heads here or there..." Cynerik says with a smirk at Sköllji. "...but I do believe we all survived together for a reason. I feel that the Martyr and God brought us together. For that reason, I would like to suggest we start a company together; adventurers, if you will. The work will be hard and dangerous but there is no one else I'd want at my side who isn't at this table. Now...what do you all say?"
Brinda heads immediately to the stack of books, and finds the tome of magical secrets. Her first thought is to hide it, to stash it away... but she catches herself. This is not the past; this is now. I have faced death with these people. If I cannot trust them as my friends, who will I ever trust? Not trust with everything, but one step at a time...
Holding the book in front of her, Brinda seeks out TAS. Finding him, she holds it out further, offering it. "Look, friend. This is what we need. This can guide us. This can help us be... more than we are. This can give us some control over our lives." And she hands the book to him. "Let's begin tonight."
As the company makes its way back to the village, Brinda is quiet amidst the celebrating company. She smiles to those who engage her, but says very little. She busies herself with tasks during mealtimes and camp set up and pack down, but keeps to herself most of the time. The exception is later in the evening, when she seeks out TAS to huddle over the book with him, working together with him to puzzle out the secrets hidden within the volume. Even when he retires, she continues to pore over the book, voraciously devouring all the knowledge she can glean from it, late into the night. She rises with smudges under her eyes, having only slept for an hour or two, but sets to her duties as usual.
Brinda spends as much of her time with the book as she can, although she prefers to have TAS by her side, whenever he is willing. Now that there is little to do, she does little but read the book. She stays in her room often, and the dark circles under her eyes increase.
At the meal when Cynerik makes his statements about travelling as a company, Brinda nods thoughtfully. "I don't know about your god's reasons, but I have no other purpose. I will join you, for the bonds we have forged together, if for no other reason."
But I do have other reasons, don't I?
Brinda is the first to speak up and Cynerik smiles warmly at the young woman. The dark circles under her eyes have showed the determination of her studies so far, ever since she found that book of magic. She had said little and slept little since their battle and Cynerik was worried that everything was a bit too much for the girl. Yet he didn't voice his concern, not yet. "Everyone had a different way of dealing with the horrors of life. Some drank, some ate, some whored, some of us even found our faith. Let them find their way but don't let them destroy themselves." Cynerik thought to himself, considering the wise words of his sergeant during his time in the military. They all had to deal with their demons on their own to some degree but he wouldn't let them fall alone.
"I appreciate that Brinda. I am sure we all have our own dreams, our own goals. Starting again, finding a new home, maybe a new business, or maybe...we just don't have a purpose yet." He said in regards to Brinda, nodding softly. "What say the rest of you? Shall we start a venture?"
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When the party first arrives in town, Sköllji is surprised by the reaction of the townsfolk. It made sense, but the feeling of villagers being happy to see him was foreign to him. They usually clamored inside and hid their children.
Thug... Debt Collector... Leg-breaker... I've been called many a thin', but ne'er a hero... I quite like the feel o' it. "Sköllji the 'venturer"... Bah. Silly nonsense.
As the villagers celebrate and ask questions, the dwarf is very modest and quiet. Even when the drinking began, Sköllji kept his composure. At first. Having not relaxed in quite a long time, the dwarf let himself overdrink and enjoy the festivities. By the time Cynerik enters the tavern, the shirtless dwarf was standing on a table, holding a pint of mead, and boasting about how they took down an "Army o' bandits" and a "20 foot tall land kraken".
Cynerik calls everyone to the table and makes his proposition. Sköllji quiets down and gets more serious. He waits for the response from others, especially T.A.S., before saying his piece.
"Fren', I'm retired now. I came te Fletcher'sh Resht te shettle down en enjoy the quiet life. An' in gettin' 'ere, I've faced cursed woodsh, shpirits o' the dead, a horde o' murderers, a damn giant shquid, an' I'm purty shure I drank a werewolf's lager. I've had more exshitment in the past week, then I've 'ad in me whole life. Which weren't dull mind ye...." Sköllji stops and takes a deep breath. "Very little has ever meant much te me. I've 'armed men jus' tryin' te start a business fer their families. I've killed men tryin' te protect their coin from me boss. I even convinced a town te overthrow their gover'ment so Garrote could move in on the turf... I'm tired o' being led along by others. I'll not follow ye."
Sköllji slams his fist down hard on the table. "But I'll walk beside ye with 'onor!"
Cynerik would listen to the drunken dwarf, unable to keep a slight smile off of his face at least until he became more serious. As he had imagined, all of them had come from hard times and rough beginnings, all of them had made choices that they were not proud of. Yet when Sköllji slams his fist down hard upon the table, it brings that grin right back to Cynerik's face.
"And I will be glad to have you at my side, Sköllji. I need a realistic viewpoint to keep me settled in the here and now." Looking at the others, he would continue to speak. "Each of us, I am sure, have done things that were are not proud of. I know I have enough to be ashamed of. In this company, we would be equals. All things done by an honest vote, payments split evenly between each other. We'd trust one another, be like...a family...some would say. One hell of a strange family." Cynerik would say with a laugh, unable to keep the merriment from his eyes.
"We could trust each other and maybe, just maybe, we'll make something of ourselves in this world. Maybe we'll do some actual good too. The world could certainly use that."
On hearing Cynerik's offer, Kandl simply said "I have been called to fight the darkness, and I will not turn my face from it." as if that explained everything.
When the group prepared to leave, however, Kandl was waiting for them.
At the end of the module, everyone has to choose a lifestyle and pay the expenses.
Since you can stay at the inn for free because you're heroes, you'll get half price. Here are your options for this town (prices listed is half of the books price):
Destitute: Free.
Poor: 1 cp
Getting by: 5 cp
Comfortable: 1 ss
Effects of lifestyle:
Sköllji spends most of his time after the recent events in the woods. He trains daily in the forest and rarely returns to town. When asked why he's gone so often, he replies "Not used te a whole town payin' 'ttention te me all the time. Feels creepy. Plus, this town needs protectin' and if we're te go out on our own soon, I wanna be prepared. Physically an ment'ly. Two birds, one bloody big stone, eh?"
"Done alright for meself. Not too bad out 'ere. When it's yer choice te be, that is. Plus I've 'ad about all I ken take o' Cynerik's constant prayin'! BAHAHA!"
Cynerik's time is spent in deep prayer, fast, and meditation up at the Martyr's burial site. Though he was certain there were other towns that boasted the same reputation, but there was honestly a connection there. A sense of peace seemed to grow within the man. His instincts began to sharpen and as they did, so did his strength of will. The first moment came when a man was brought to him after having suffered a nasty wound from a hungry wolf. He did not have much time left, the young man's face was as pale of the moon and he was as chilly as the morning dew.
Cynerik did what he always did in these moment; prayed. Yet a warmth grew in his hands like a scalding fire and without think, he pressed them to the man's wound. The villagers were taken aback at this sudden use of magic and the young man's eyes opened up. When Cynerik's hands pulled away, it appeared as if the wound had healed itself shut and his body was flushed with energy once more. "Bless the Martyr! You've been touched!" Offers of food, drink, and shelter were given to Cynerik but he shook his head and thanked them all for their generosity. "It isn't I who did this. It was our merciful God that worked through me. Perhaps...we should all pray in thanks?"
The rumors quickly traveled that one of the pilgrim's to the Martyr's Tomb had been blessed by Her touch and Cynerik became more popular as a local resident. The temptation to rely upon their good graces was there but he felt no need to do so, happy to stay in the inn's common room with the others where he could reread the holy texts again. He did accept a chain though, a chain in which to hang the book from his form and have it ready whenever it was needed.
Jexen spends a great deal of time talking with the villagers, trying to get an idea of recent events. He is far calmer than in the battle, but the lack of memories bother him. At least, the lack of memories that don't involved bloodshed...
I remember the beach. The streams of blood, flowing into the sea. The screaming faces of...men? The cliffs...one unfeeling handhold after another...
He spends a chuck of this time trying to ensure that Mary and Jericho are doing well. It takes him some time to admit to her that he thinks the two of them would be better off remaining in the village, further from harm and blood and horror. He spends fairly freely, it is not like he needs the food but they will.
And when he is alone, he practices with sword and shield, repeating moves that he has done a thousand times, but only remembers a fraction of.
When Cynerik gathers the group, he listens and speaks after the others:
"If Mary and Jericho are safe here, I will be able to focus on safeguarding them from afar. I would walk with you Cynerik, all of you, and fight the terrors of this world."
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T.A.S. thinks about Cynerik's proposition. "Give me a bit of time for such a big decision. You know, I have to take care about Mary. And I also have to finish a delivery. But I very much enjoy to travel and fight with all of you."
The week after their return to the village, T.A.S. spends the day enjoying the calm city with Mary. They had never been this welcomed under people and the soft bed of the inn allowed his springs to rest for a while when he retreated to think about the past battle. He definitely felt some powerful guiding him - or did he guide the energy - during these minutes. When Brinda showed him the book she found, T.A.S. felt so happy. Happy to have a chance to read upon the knowledge and - even more important - happy that Brinda offered to share this treasure with him. On a sunny day they would read the book together sitting on the field outside the town while Mary would run around them or lay in the grass. But most days he let Brinda devour the book on her own.
Then at night, when everbody was asleep, he would head out into the woods with a light, the book and his crossbow. He found some not too badly damaged pages about how Orcs would use magic to guide and empower their attacks with magic. He armed the crossbow and aimed it and learned to concentrate himself on it. Every night his shots would improve. One of his bolts actually penetrated a smaller tree and did not even break. But after a few shots he would feel exhausted. The training drained his power quickly. Afterwards he would head to the inn and rest the early morning.
Near the end of the week a sudden idea struck T.A.S.: If magic can help me to shoot a bolt.. Can't magic fire a bolt on it's own?
He spends a day gathering some rosty metals, broken planks and dirty ropes from all around the town. Then he heads out to the woods where he assembles and deconstruct the parts again and again, trying to force some magic into them. After many tries he actually manages to construct a small crossbow-like machine that does not fall apart immediately. He lays a bolt into it and walks away from it. Then he focusses all his power onto the Boltthrower as he would name it. Slowly the rope is pulled backwards and snaps into position. The construct would turn around and aim at a slight angle upwards. Then, on releasing his mind, the little machine slings the bolt into the air where it flies over a long distance and hit's the target - a big apple hanging from a tree - that he had in mind.
Then the whole machine would explode into scraps.
Over the next two days T.A.S. improves the machine to make it last longer and refill bolts automatically.
One day, the young couple that took care of Mary and Jericho in their absence approached him. They would plead to let Mary stay with them - together with Jericho if Jexen would allow it. They had no children but they would love to care for them as if they were their own. After a long talk, T.A.S. reluctently agreed as it was the best for Mary. It would break his heart to leave her behind but here she had a safe home and could grow up as a normal child instead of living under a rock with him in the woods. He told them where they could find Jexen to speak with him as well.
Later that day T.A.S. would search Cynerik to speak about it with him to seek help and mostly consolation regarding the decision.
"I also decided to be part of our adventuring party. But I still have to deliver this bag of flour to the smith. It looks like we missed him by only two days. It's not about the value of the flour. It's about my honour, I will keep my promis."
Kandl spends his week off practicing with weapons, consulting with the group and any of the more experienced fighters among the citizens, and generally learning the trade of warcraft.
After the week passes, you prepare to embark on your journey to Cheqwood. It's a slow and uneventful journey, and you nearing the small village, you see about 20 or so buildings that make up the entire town.
Every building has a warped appearance, and you soon see why: it's an optical illusion. The buildings all have a checkered pattern, which matches the trees of the forest it lays upon - and from which it gets its namesake: Cheqwood.
You arrive at dusk.
Slugoth seems to split his time between the bar and the woods, making crude maps of the area and patrol routes, taking any villagers with him that wish to help patrol the area and keep an eye out for any suspicious activity.
When the subject of continuing as an adventuring crew is brought up Slugoth jumps at the idea.
During a patrol one day he runs into Sköllji out in the woods, "Not a fan of the adoring public huh, I understand, could have easily been fallin in with the bandits."
When T.A.S. mentions the couple, Jexen does not hesitate.
"They will be better off with the couple."
He also says his goodbyes, and gives the couple another silver piece.
"For the children.", he says softly.
**************
When T.A.S. speaks of the flour, Jexen says:
"That makes sense. Duty is duty."
***************
On the road, Jexen makes a point of speaking with the others. His thoughts continue to be gloomy. He would have others'.
"Magic and miracles amongst us, and those of skill of arms. We will be formidable.", he muses.
Approaching the town, it doesn't seem that populated. Most folk have cleared the streets by now, and there's only one building that seems to be active - the larget building in the lot. There's music coming from it.
Ah, here we are, says your charge, Cheqwood. I'm headed to the Bloody Stump. Only inn in town. Feel free to join me; it's getting dark, and I wouldn't want to be caught in the Cheqwood forest alone!
With that, the old man heads straight towards the large build with the muffled sounds of music eminating from it.
Entering into the inn, you see that what looks like most of the town is inside, all drinking seat while a band. Played in the corner.
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Sköllji enters the inn and winces when he hears the band playing. He turns back to the group and half whispers, "Oi, where'd they find these hacks? They oughta get sum Dwarven Dense Metal bands te play here. Though I doubt they've even 'eard of it. It's perty underground."
Brinda laughs, loudly and merrily, at the dwarf's words, her mirth cutting through most of the noise in the taproom. She quickly realises thatno one else is laughing, and that heads have begun to turn her way, and gulps down her chuckles, although giggles still bubble up for moments more.