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'Be it so known that the bearer of this charter has been charged
by the Swordlords of Restov, acting upon the greater good and
authority vested within them by the office of the Regent of the
Dragonscale Throne, has granted the right of exploration and travel
within the wilderness region known as the Greenbelt. Exploration
should be limited to an area no further than thirty-six miles east and
west and sixty miles south of Oleg’s Trading Post. The carrier of
this charter should also strive against banditry and other unlawful
behavior to be encountered. The punishment for unrepentant banditry
remains, as always, execution by sword or rope. So witnessed on this
24th day of Calistril, under watchful eye of the Lordship of Restov
and authority granted by Lord Noleski Surtova, current Regent of
the Dragonscale Throne.'
Today is the third and final day of your travel to Oleg's Trading Post from Restov where you had met briefly with the Sword Lords. As one of the four explorers chartered to explore and settle the Stolen Lands, your responsibility covers the area known as the Greenbelt. You were set off in a haste and only told by the Sword Lords to start from Oleg's, given little more than the Charter in your hand.
As the day turning towards dusk, you finally see Oleg's Trading Post slowly grow from a speck until it stands alone on the plains with a forest standing several miles off behind it. The trading post is surrounded by a wooden palisade that stands 10 feet high. At each corner of the palisade are 20-foot square watchtowers, each armed with a run-down catapult left over from the site’s original use as a border fort. At a casual first glance the catapults look quite dilapidated. The one entrance through the palisade is a 30-foot-wide wooden gate that is currently open. The smell of an active kitchen wafts out towards you. Two people, a human man and woman, can be seen working within the courtyard.
Looking up from her work the woman wipes her brow, then you hear her break into a good laugh. She says something you can't make out to the man who is busy fixing the roof of a simple outdoor storage shelter.
The woman then starts to walk out towards you, "Hey there! I'm Svetlana, how can we help you?"
Magnar stands a little straighter, and wipes the sweat off of his brow. "It is good to meet you, my lady. I have the honor of being Magnar of house Garess. I was looking for Oleg's Trading Post? They sent me to root out the bandit problem, as it were."
He leans back, with both hands clasping his belt while he takes in the old fortifications. "I trust I've come to the right place?"
Svetlana's eyes grow wide in surprise and happiness, "I never expected Restov would actually send help at our request! Please, let me help you Mr. Garess, right this way!" She leads you into the old fortress, grabbing anything she can to help aid. Inside the courtyard you notice the trading post is made up of a stable, guest house, Main hall, and small marketplace along with the general things that accompany a self-sufficient settlement.
As you approach, the man steps down from his ladder amid a cloud of curses. "Ahem, and this crude thing is my husband, Oleg." Svetlana introduces him to you. "This is Mr. Magnar Garess, sent to root the bandits out by the Sword Lords."
Oleg eyes you up, "What, they sent one? Just you alone? Great.." Oleg rolls his eyes and starts after his chores again, "we'll all be dead by tomorrow."
Magnar is somewhat relunctant to give up his backpack - it's been his companion for quite a while now.
He just nods at Oleg's unenthusiastic greeting. "Noblemen put too little stock in outlying lands. Their loss, I say; I'll do what I can, and it'll be more than was done before," he says mildly.
Oleg was the kind of man that needed deeds done. Magnar could work with that. For now, he just has to not antagonise him until he can prove his worth.
"For now, is there a place where I could stuff my belongings? I'll need to know what you've seen of the scoundrels, but that can come later."
At your first comment Oleg looks and a bit surprised regards you a tad more favorably. Svetlana extends her arm towards the guest house, "Yes, right this way. Are you hungry? We have some stew just finishing up and a lot to talk about in short time."
The guest house is modestly furnished but still comfortable. Once you return outside both Oleg and Svetlana are sitting by the fire on a few wooden benches. Svetlana offers you some stew and a crude home brewed ale.
"We first asked Rostov months ago for guards.." She begins as she fidgets with her bare left ring finger, "Oleg was able fend off the occasional hunter or vagabond, but the bandits South of here are damn organized now. They first came three months ago, threatening to burn the place down and abduct me unless we payed a 'tax.' They've since come back twice more, every time around sunrise on the first of the month..." She looks up at you with guilt on her face. "I feel like I need to apologize that you won't be able to get too comfortable here on your first night.. they're due to come again in the morning."
"A hot meal and roof over my head is more than comfort enough," he says. "Though the circumstances are unfortunate, it is heartening to hear that they are predictable. How many of them were there the last time? Had they horses?"
He takes a swig of ale, and starts eating the stew - he's hungry, but is careful not to stuff his mouth. It's bad manners, and besides he made a habit of eating politely long ago. "This is very good!"
Oleg lightens up a little bit more at your praise if the ale. "That there is my own recipe, made with wild grains from right ouside the walls here."
He is quick to grow more somber thouch, "The first time they came there was a dozen of them. Ten thugs led by a cloaked man armed with a bow, and a woman who carried two small hatchets. The woman talked and ran the show, she nearly lopped off my right hand with one of her hatchets in a cruel bit of jest to force their point. She's the one who took Svetlana’s wedding ring right off her hand as payment for 'not shortening my reach.'" The man shutters at the memory, subconsciously rubbing his wrist as he stares into the fire. "Since then, only the crude hooded man has been coming. The second visit he came with six others, the third he only came with four. Each time they had a few extra horses with them for the furs."
Svetlana then pipes up, much more energy in her voice as she is visibly excited by the thought of conflict tomorrow. "Every time, though, they have been extremely eager to return to their camp somewhere deeper in the Greenbelt, so I think their camp is about a day’s ride away. There are so many ruins out there for them to setup within. It'd just make sense."
"So we should expect somewhere between five and three of them. Hrm." He takes another swag of his ale.
"I've done a bit of fighting in the past, and one it's come up a few times that dwarves have some trouble with fighting in open lands - there's not much that stops humans from running away from us, right? I was involved in a training battle with a few hundred men some twenty years back, in the hills just outside Highdelve. The bastards would stand their ground for a charge, tag as many of us as they could, and then run away to do it again. We got back at them by sneaking up on them at night - apparently humans don't see in the dark? Anyway, if we'd have let them keep it up, we'd have lost that one hard. Same thing here; I'll need to put myself between them and the entrance, box them in so they won't have a choice but stand and fight."
That's strategy, but he needs to keep these two safe as well. He looks them over with a critical eye. Normally, he wouldn't be this blunt, but this was matters of battle, and softening it could get them killed.
"Are you fighting people? If not, then it'd make sense for you to hide in the hills behind the post for a few hours - no use getting taken hostage."
"Svetty here, she'll be in hiding. No excuses." Oleg gives her an eye as he reiterates and Svetlana seems disappointed yet obedient. "I can use a bow and watch your back that way, but I'm best to be behind some cover as well. These bones don't dodge like they used to."
"Then that's how we'll do it - I'll take a walk and see where I'll hide as they come in after supper. For now, do you know what these highwaymen live off of? No offense meant, but just exhorting you can't be enough to keep what, a dozen men? I think they'll have to be taking plunder and food from others as well, elsewise they starve."
"They live off everything in sight except hard honest work. Steal, murder, poach, hell they'll even kill each other if that's all that's left. I've heard of raids into the River Kingdoms, but rumours tell of some big camp to the south. Information is rare on that sort of thing though, not many left to tell in those parts."
"Hmm. Then I'll just have to track them down the old-fashioned way."
He continues to eat. Once the meal is over, he excuses himself, and takes a walk around the fort, looking for places where he could concievably hide while the highwaymen draw close.
As Magnar walks around the old fortress in the waning light of dusk he makes several key observations. Firstly that the fortress' great doors open inward. There is a bar lying on the ground East of the gate that is used to lock it shut. Secondly that the walkway on top of the 10ft palisade is well shielded from view on the ground due to its height. It takes a perspective from at least 20 to 30 feet inside the fort to begin to see what is lying on the walkway. Thirdly, there is heavy growth of prairie grass along the outside of the walls, and stands roughly 4ft high.
Nodding, satisfied, he returns to Olegg.
"I'll be hiding up there," he points, "When they enter. If you still want to remain, then I think you should take cover in the storage shack, with a bow, or I could lend you my crossbow, if needed. Once the fighting starts, you poke your head out, and take shots as you can. We'll take them yet, I believe."
Oleg nods back thoughtfully and takes a big swallow of his ale. "Aye, I do have an old bow. Do you need my help with any preparations? If not I think I'll try to get some rest."
Svetlana fidgets with the fire adding a few logs and glances up from the corner of her eye, curious of how much time they'll have tonight before the unknown descends upon their modest outpost.
"Good plan. I'll be retiring too - we'll need to get up before they arrive tomorrow morning."
As the sun crests the eastern horizon, elongated shadows are slowly drawn across the plains. The bandits ride towards Oleg's outpost at a determined and unwavering speed, approaching from the south and bringing a slight pillar of dust.
Magnar lies in hiding on top of the walkway, he steals himself as he hears the men round the fort and gallop into the courtyard. Once they're in the center of the yard you can see that there are three bandits guiding two empty horses in tow, for a total of five horses to the party. Once in the courtyard the men dismount and begin tying their horses to posts outside the stable, slaves to routine. A hooded man with the bow speaks to Oleg. "So what do you have for us this month old man?" Oleg stays silent, standing by the old storage shelter he has been fixing and eyes fixed on the ground.
Magnar casts a spell for protection, and jumps off of the ledge, landing in front of the gate.
"Not so fast," he says, twirling his hammer.
The two bandits spin is surprise. They glance between you and Happs for a moment and then draw their rapiers as they move towards you. One is able to get off an attack but it is shoddy and easily knocked away.
Magnar stands his ground, and prepares to recieve the bandits.
"By Torag's forge!" With a prayer to his god, Magnar swings his hammer twice in quick succession, aiming to crush his opponents.
,
,
Magnar's hammer becomes a blurr but the bandits still manage to both dodge it's destructive force.
Happs curses as Magnar swings, "Oleg you dumb bastard!" He draws a knife off his belt and swipes at the aging trader.
Oleg winces as the knife opens a large slash across his shoulder and chest. He then dives into the storage shed taking cover.
The two bandits continue to strike out at Magnar with light feet and deadly graceful rapiers but Magnar's Shield spell is something of the likes they've never seen before.
Magnar feels dread at the prospect of Oleg dying. It was always a real possibility, but nevertheless. He'll have to deal with the thugs before he can come to the rescue.
Magnar's hammer glows with power as he swings it wildly.
,
,
Magnar's hammer slams into one of the bandits, causing him to shudder and spit blood from his mouth.
The hooded man thinks Oleg is not a threat and steps forward before firing an arrow.
Oleg pokes his head out and shoots at the hooded man's back. He hits him with the old longbow!
The two bandits stab at Magnar again.
Magnar smiles as he draws blood, and sees Oleg do the same.
His hammer swings once again.
,
,
Magnar's hammer finishes off the wounded bandit, crumbling him to the ground. Mych to his dismay, Magnar continues to miss the other.
Oleg is solidly in cover so the hooded man fires once again at Magnar, missing.
Oleg pokes his head out and shoots at the hooded man's back. He hits him again with the old longbow!
The lone bandit stabs at Magnar again.
Magnar staggers under the cut, and doubles down on the remaining bandit.
,
,
Magnar slams his hammer down once onto the remaining bandit. The man whimpers and looks back at the hooden man, he wants to flee but knows death awaits him at either decision.
The hooded man is thoroughly annoyed by Oleg's consecutive shots and moves back to the shed. He stabs at the man with his sword
Oleg shuffles within the shed and concentrates on staying unreachable by the hooded man's blade.
The bandit takes another swing at Magnar but it is half hearted and easily parried.
Magnar is growing increasingly frantic with his swings - Oleg is being pressed hard.
,
,
Magnar caves the poor man in with his flurry of hammers. Seeing that he is now alone, the hooded bandit moves away from the storage shack towards the horses. His sword is in his hand and pointed up at the sky.
"Ok ok, now message received. I best be get'n out of here to make sure none else gets the idea of messing with ya'll. Ya hear? Wouldn't want this happening again would we?"
"I'm afraid that's not an option here."
Magnar walks forward, and with a spell, grows in size to an impressive eight feet.
The man's eyes go wide with surprise and fear. Magnar's new size makes the courtyard seem much smaller and the hooded man panics. He pulls out a vial and chucks it at the storage shelter Oleg is hiding in, then steps back further towards the barn.
The vial connects with the wood, bursting into flame!
"It's your choice who dies today now!" The hooded man yells to Magnar while he places his hand on the hitching post.
Oleg notices the fire immediately and flees the shed with his arm over his mouth and nose.
Magnar closes the distance, and tries to bash the man's skull in.
,
Magnar indeed bashes his skull in! The hooded man falls to the ground unconscious. The fire continues to spread across the storage shack and Oleg hurries to get water to douse it.
Magnar lets his warhammer fall to the ground, and uses his dagger to split open the top of his waterskin, to make a wider hole for pouring out water.
Then, with continued prayer to Torag, he pours water from the skin onto the spreading fire, refilling it with magic after each pour.
Oleg returns with two pales to see Magnar has already dosed the flames with more than what he carries several times over. The flames quickly die out.
"Why,.. my my you're quite handy to have around. I can see why Restov felt comfortable sending you alone." Oleg says in the most optimistic tone you've heard from him. His sits on one of the benches and exhales with exhaustion, grimacing at the slice across his shoulder and chest.
Looking over the bandits, all three are unconscious and appear to be dying.
Searching through their things, the bandits traveled light. The brutes were each carrying leather armor, a longbow with 20 arrows, a short sword, 2 days of trail rations, and 10 gp. The hooded man had one more alchemist’s fire, leather armor, a dagger, a fine composite longbow with 20 arrows, 2 days of trail rations, a silver stag amulet, and 35 gp.
The 5 horses whinny as they wanderer around looking for edibles.
"Faith is the most important thing." Magnar sets about executing the surviving criminals, using one of their short swords to do the deed; the hammer would be a needlessly brutal weapon of execution.
"And may their gods have mercy on their souls." He bows his head and keeps that pose for a moment.
Looking up, he decides to see if he can't get one of the horses to trust him before they run off too far; he'd be doing a lot of travelling, and a horse would be useful. "Want to split the spoils of war?" he asks Oleg.
Oleg nods his head, "Fine by me, will need to rebuild this shed. I'll send for supplies from Restov soon, think about anything you may need." He then stands and is able to bring one horse into the stable before riding out on one of his own to get Svetlana.
Magnar sets about trying to rein in the horses.
You are able to corral one of the horses but the other is spooked by the dead bodies and flees out the gate.
When Oleg and Svetlana get back Oleg sees you sorting stuff out, "If you don't want to keep exactly half, I can buy you out for the rest or put that credit towards anything you'd want to order from Restov. Takes about a week though to get stuff out here."
Svetlana spits on the body of the hooded man and storms into main building, calling back. "We need to clean and bind that wound up before anything Oleg!"
Oleg looks to her and then around the grounds before his eyes come back to you. "Hmm, see a mare got out. Have it under control?"
"I'd be grateful, yes. I've need of a warhorse. I don't think my share quite covers the price, though." He'll give Oleg some money at a later point to square the disrepancy.
"Aye, that does look festerin'. Give it here." He lays on hand on the man's arm, and invokes Torag's blessing.
"I'll track that one down yet," he declares, before setting off after the horse, calling to it as softly as he can manage.
"Here, horse."
"Why I'll be.." Oleg rubs the newly formed scar tissue.
Magnar is able to lure the escaped horse back into the fortress. On his return Oleg is sitting with a notebook jotting down a list of figures. "Let's see what you have in mind and we can likely work something out. One war trained horse. Light or Heavy? Barding runs pricey as well, anything in mind as that goes? I'm pretty sure the best I could swing with the Sword Lord's graces is something chain or scale without sending a hefty advance."
"Heavy as they come, I should think, and chain will suffice as well. It'll serve as a mount for my explorations, so there's no sense in weighing the beast down unduly. Long-legged creatures buck under weight, you know." He grins a little, "It's a bit of a moot point, I only have coin for the horse itself, and I won't spend credit I can't answer for. I'll need to order the barding later."
He counts out the pile of coins needed to square his account between the things Oleg will sell for him, and the cost of buying the warhorse, and hands the gold over to Oleg.
"I think I'll take me new horse out, get a lay of the land around here. Day is still young."
Oleg nods and begins to dig through the damaged storage shelter, making notes of what he'll need to replace.
Svetlana relaxes some after seeing that Oleg's wounded has been taken care of and she begins to see after the animals.
The day is quiet out on the prairie. You see plenty of small game such as hawks, foxes, and rabbits but nothing out of the ordinary that would cause alarm. It takes you a hard full day of riding and surveying, but as dusk rolls in you feel you have a good understanding of the near 95 square miles that lay South of the Trading Post.
Magnar decides to extend his exploration for a few days. As the day comes to a close, he looks for a suitable place to make camp. Unless he's forced to by cold weather, he'll go without a campfire tonight, eating a meal of cold biscuits and sleeping in the darkness. Fire could be seen for miles around, after all, and he'd hate to be robbed in the night.
He makes sure the horse has water, and ties it somewhere that it'll have stuff to graze.
Satisfied that he's good for the night, he curls up under his sleeping furs.
Your efforts to pass undetected during the night are successful. As it is still Spring, several hours feel uncomfortably cold but soon after the sun rises and begins to warm the air again.
Magnar wakes up, and sets out, riding southwest as the sun climbs the sky.
The day progresses calmly as you ride southwest and continue to survey this 95 square mile section of the map. What had once been a flat prairie is now starting to gradually roll into hills and if you focus on the distant horizon you'd swear that a mountain range lies far off to the South.
Half way through the day you notice the skeleton of a deer. Then soon after one of a boar. Awoken from the monotonous daylong ride across the unchanging landscape by these irregular sightings, you're able to scan the area and see several more deer, boars, bears, and even a few human skeletons.