"Hello there!" Durham calls out, waving, as the group approaches the outpost.
Glancing up from unloading his gear when Durham calls out, Ivar nods towards the two humans. Shouldering his pack, he steps up to Durham's side and surveys the ramshackle fort, his keen eye taking in its less-than-stellar state of repair. Not dwarven work, clearly he thinks to himself.
Both the humans perk up, the male on the roof seemed to disregard the band for a moment before continuing his work on the house. The women who was preparing something scurried over in a hurry, a smile wrapping her lips. "Ah! Welcome! Do you happen to be the assistance we've been told was coming?" She would continue without giving much time for them to answer, ushering the group towards the benches were a hearty stew, bread and wine were out for them. "Come, I prepared you a meal. You must be hungry from all the traveling!" she would see to ladling the stew into the bowels for them. "I'm so happy you finally came! I was worried you wouldn't make it before the criminals made off with another collection!"
Friendly but not a fool, Durham sizes the two humans up, always aware of how quickly a scene can turn sour.
Rodric looked up, moving his goggles from his eyes to get a better look around. It looked fairly run-down and fairly sparse, the humans trying to vainly rebuild in the wake of something awful. He quickly reached for his bag and slipped it on as he climbed down from the wagon. "Hope we didn't keep you waiting too long." He took a deep breath as he continued to look around at the current state of where they had arrived.
Frowning, Ivar approached the woman. "We will most certainly be glad of your hospitality, good meals were a rarity on the road. But did you say criminals? I believe I can speak for us all when I say that we would be happy to do anything we can to help you in ridding yourselves of such vermin, just as our ancestors drove the orcs before them during their quest for sky." Ivar said, his mind lapsing into fond recollection of tales he'd read as a child, of the heady days when no dwarf had yet seen the sun.
"So they send us a bunch o'dwarves ey? Typical Brevoy, can't do anything right!" Oleg threw up his hands when he had joined the discussion, harrumphing in disappointment. "Why are they sending a bunch of short folk down south?"
"Oleg!" exclaimed Svetlana before turning to the dwarves, "Im sorry, he means no ill will, but your aid would be greatly appreciated. These men should be here tomorrow..." She began but Oleg cut her off.
"Stupid dimwits, bullying some fair traders because they couldn't live like real men. A group of 'em should be arriving here on the morrow, I say ambush em, they will never know what hit em!"
"Happy to help, lass," Durham says to Svetlana, ignoring Oleg's jabs. "And thank ye kindly fer all this."
"Can't say I disagree with ye there, lad," he tells the man. "And keepin' our numbers hidden doesn't sound like a bad idea, but ye should at least offer 'em a chance to walk away. Doubt they'll take it, but it's only civil."
Rodric scratches his darkened, blonde beard as if he was pondering something. He then shrugged his shoulders. "I would rather not have to fight if it can be helped, but I am suspectin' that will not be an option with these thugs." He shifted his bags and adjusted his bandoliers to be a bit more comfortable. He then sighed softly and spoke up again. "Didn' someone mention food? I would love the taste of not trail rations."
"Ofcourse, the foods right over here, help yourself." Svetlana has already dished up some servings of the stew and there were already drinks and bread out on the table.
Oleg looked at the conversation with a bit of loss, "Spare them? I'd rather see them hanging out in front of my post, but I'm not the one doing the swinging here. So what ever you think would be best. I just don't want them coming back."
Rodric claps his hands together as he reaches for a stew bowl. "Don' mind if'n I do." He helped himself to the delicious offer, savoring the taste.
After he noisily enoted the stew for a moment he turn to his companions. "I would be willin' to give any the chance, but if they choose not to accept it then...well..." He nodded to his shoulder-slung 'peacemaker' before grinning again. "But! Bullets can be pricey and as such I don' mind a cleaner arrangement."
Accepting a bowl of stew and a place at the table, Ivar addresses Oleg. "Please sir, tell us all you know of these brigands. How many are they? Are they well equipped? Have you any idea from whence they come? How long have these raids been occurring, what tactics do they usually employ? Any information you can provide will help us to fight them, if it comes to that, and what to do with any survivors."
"Well" Oleg started, taking a seat as he gathered all the information together, "They first came around a couple months ago, huge band of em, with a fierce looking women who carried two hand axes. She had some thirst for wanting to cause us pain. She took my wife's wedding ring in exhange of not lopping off a hand."
"The second time they came around it was with fewer men, the most distinguishable and the one that looks like they are in charge is a guy with a cloak on and a hood up, he also carries a bow instead as well. Over the next few months the band that arrives gets smaller and smaller. Last month was just a handful, so I'm reckoning there will only be four to six of them this time."
"They are decently equipped for brigands, could definitely take on a small guard if they wanted. I have no idea where they come from, been too worried about the safety of myself to venture out, but it's definitely somewhere in the unexplored territories. They usually come up to the gate if its closed and yell at us. We let them in and they simply take what we lay out and leave."
Rodric took a moment to ponder the man's words. "That is indeed troublin' good sir." He thought about the frequency as well as the dwindling numbers, could possibly mean they were doing a survival of the fittest kind of elimination and therefore even if only a few, they were going to be rather difficult to have to deal with.
Raennia ate silently while the other's talked, having been quite reticent during the entire three day journey. If asked she would have responded with the fact that she was trying to protect her voice from all of the dust of the road. Now that they were done she had been drinking copious amounts of hot tea she had prepared herself during dinner. Despite the girl's vast knowledge of a thousand little details she appeared to be quite the unseasoned traveler and often agonized over simple things.
Once finished with dinner the female dwarf would take her eating utensils and wash them herself, shooing away Svetlana if the woman tried to intercept herself. She hummed to herself as she scrubbed, her rich voice carrying the ancient dwarven tune throughout the post.
"Hmm... well can't imagine we'll be able to settle this matter with whoever shows up, then. Sounds like the one in charge has been stayin' behind now that this's all become routine."
Durham takes a swig of the wine Svetlana provided. "I'm thinkin' if we rough up whoever comes tomorrow, then follow 'em back, we can settle this matter once and fer all. So then the question becomes are we prepared to take on a huge band of 'em?"
He pauses for a moment, returning to his stew, but continues before anyone can interject. "Either way, tomorrow mornin's encounter won't likely be the end of it, and we'll only be makin' things worse fer these folks if we don't deal with the leader... however we end up goin' about that."
Rodric nudges his sister hard, grinning at her. "Hear that sis? Might be havin' to stop readin' books and swing a hammer." He poked fun at her a bit, but knew enough of her capabilities to not push much more than idle teasing. She had a vicious mean streak when she felt truly slighted.
Ivar nods along with the discussion, in between spoonfuls of soup. Brow furrowing as an issue occurs to him, he speaks up: "Are any of you skilled trackers? It seems to me that it might be hard to follow them back, especially if they are mounted. We have a distinct lack of horses, after all. It might be a better option to try to capture one or more members of the group, then convince them to lead us back to their hideout."
Without missing a beat Raennia scooped soapy water into her hand and tossed it at Rodric before rinsing off the last item and placing it on a rack to dry. She dried her hands and walked over to the cart to rifle through one of the chests that were stacked in the back. She came back to the table with a roll of paper that once opened was revealed as map of the region. It was general as maps went with little more than lakes, forests and mountains shown and the outpost as the most northern location.
"We be right here." she pointed at the outpost. "And they can't be more'n twenty miles between east and south. To the south and a bit west is a great forest that I doubt the bandits be holed up in. That's wild and untamed and I dinnae think they be brave or stupid enough to be in there. That means most likely somewhere along the forests' edge, close enough that they either spread out on the plains if attacked from the trees or retreat into the forest if attacked from the plains. I say tomorrow you three hide in the buildings near the gate. I'll use my feminine wiles to make sure their attention is on me and only me and you hit them from behind. From the sound of the stories these bandit's have gotten fat and lazy. Close the gate and hit them from all sides and they be foldin like a house of cards. We only need to kill those who wont lay down arms. TherestwechainandleavefortheguardswhoI'llbetbefollowin'ustofulfillthepromis etheKing'sGuardsgaveMasterOleg. I'vegotmanaclesinthewagonthatwillserve."
Finally the dwarven woman stopped to take a breath, her manner of speaking so quickly jumbling her words until they were one on top of the other.
Rodric blinks blankly after Raennia finishes with her tumultuous speech, still sorting out exactly what she said hurriedly at the end. After a couple moments pause and looking to the map and then back to her, he speaks up. "Well alright then. You would appear to have an idea it seems."
He stood up and stretched a bit, looking to the other three. "I am always ready to begin when we are ready." He grinned broadly, almost impish in a way.
"Well, we can come wake you lot several hours before they arrive, but there is still some day left if you lot need to do any more prepping. I say you got 'bout four hours of daylight left." Oleg took a swig of his drink then. "Get rid of em, and you'd be our welcomed guests here for the extent of your travels out their in them wilds. I on the other hand need to fix that damn leak before the next rain season." With that he would climb back up the building and begin his hammering once more unless any of the dwarves stopped him.
"We thank you for the kindness of your hospitality, Mr. Leveton. Until then, we should finish unloading the wagons and get what sleep we can." With that, Ivar suits action to words and heads for the wagons.
"Aye," Durham agrees, "likely to be a long day tomorrow." Finally finishing his meal, he clears his place and makes for the washing area with his dishes.
Rodric finished his meal as well, getting up to wash his dishes after Durham. Once satisfied he will make his way over to the wagon to assist Ivar with unloading whatever pieces they need to.
Oleg moved to wake everyone up just before sunrise, informing everyone that the bandits would arrive in just about an hour after sunrise. "Get ready to smash em good."
The day was still young, the sun haven't even risen just yet but the sky was already tinged in the pinkish morning glow, the clouds being lit from underneath as the sun was beginning to announce its arrival.
Finishing with adjusting his breastplate, Ivar picks up his Dorn Dergar and approaches the door of the dormitory.
Rodric carefully checks the adjustments on his armor, before he slings on his bandoliers and grabs 'Sheila', a wicked grin beginning to cross his face as he hunches over and becomes to move quietly around.
He creeps over to a position near the door to allow him to to peer out of it through one side.
"Mornin', Lads," Durham says as he wakes. "... and Lass. Sorry," he adds upon seeing Raennia. He lets out a yawn and stretches. "Guess it's time to get to work."
Pulling on his armor and gloves, he heads out to the wall and climbs the ladder. He positions himself over the gate and does his best to conceal his presence as he watches for the approach of the brigands.
It would be an hour before any signs of the bandits approach would be visible. Durham would see about four riders and six horses, two which seem to be ready to bare the loads of the bandit's tax collection. Svetlana would move to hold herself up in the house and Oleg would be standing in the courtyard, awaiting the bandits. He seemed a little fidgety and nervous, but what was to be expected of a civilian in a matter like this?
Rodric quietly moves around, adjusting his gear some as he moves to take up a position behind a large wagon just a short distance from the front gate. He shivered some with anticipation and he breathed softly as he waited.
Shifting to the door, Ivar opens it slightly and peers out, ready to spring out on the bandits' flank should they approach Oleg.
Durham signals to the others when he catches sight of the approaching bandits, then mentally prepares to go to work.
The bandits strode into the camp, without a care of the world as they began to do their usual snide remarks. Immediately moving to take the provisions laid out in the courtyard. They all dismounted and started to bring their horses towards the pile of goods as Oleg suffered insults and crude remarks of what they wanted to do to his wife. It only seemed like they were provoking the man, but he held his ground, though it seemed like he was about to lose his temper.
Rodric preps his rifle and checks his concoctions in his pouches, readying himself to attack as soon as his companions do.