Baergar smoothly drops the sword off his shoulder into the nearest bugbear's head.
As the blood sprays, the bard begins to chant the story of Thane Floki and his band of 20 that defeated the warband of 200 ice giants.
The first bugbear is sliced cleanly in half, and tumbles to the ground. The three remaining roar in fury and lash out, two rushing at Baergar and one swinging at the nearest soldier.
[ooc]Against Baergar for
Against Baergar for [ooc]
All of the swings of the bugbear blades go wide, and it is obvious that their previous determination is starting to falter after such a brutal strike. One of them gives a loud howling cry, and a much deeper, shuddering cry echoes in response from the forest behind.
for
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The soldiers strike back, cutting into the same, injured bugbear again. The cleric rushes forward, swinging at the injured bugbear but missing. Another roar echoes from the woods behind, and there is a loud snapping, rustling noise.
"It sounds like something is coming! An invitation to Valhalla maybe!?" Baegar's smile is genuine if a touch manic. He swings at another Bugbear, then moves, trying to position himself to be the first thing whatever is coming sees.
Another bugbear crumples under Baergar's assault, the remaining one snarling in fury and leaping at him.
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It's leap carrier it wide, and the two soldiers both swing at it as it leaps past. The cleric, meanwhile, drives his staff through the head of the paralyzed bugbear, splattering it's brains.
One swing catches the bugbear neatly at the neck, and its head is cleanly separated from its body. An enraged howl echoes out from the woods, and the remaining bugbears break and run, as a small trees snaps and collapses at the edge of the forest, revealing a huge, snarling bear-like beast, heading straight for Baergar. It is a squat animal, looking like a bear with shorter, stubbier legs, but far far more ferocious.
Baergar laughs and charges the snarling creature.
The lumber, snarling creatures barely evades Baergar's powerful swing, it's large body dancing somewhat more nimbly than might be expected. It lashes out with both it's claws and teeth, trying to open Baergar.
It's viscious strikes barely miss Baergar, and it howls in fury, spittle flying out.
Behind, the two soldiers draw longbows and take aim at the creature.
But both arrows go wide.
"What are you, eh?"
The big man swings lazily, more concerned with observing the creature than hitting it.
The creature snarls and lashes out again, trying to shred Baergar.
This time, one of the creatures claws catches Baergar, leaving a bloodied scratch across his chest. It howls triumphantly, clearly intending to press its advantage.
The soldiers fire another pair of arrows.
This time, one of the arrows finds it mark in the creatures side. It immediately howls in pain, frothing at the mouth, it's eyes turning red with bloodlust.
Baergar swings at the creature then charges left a few feet and swings with true intent: steel biting into the creatures flesh.
Baergar's steel cuts deep into the beast's flesh, and it howls in rage. It begins to foam at the mouth, and lunges at Baergar, attempting to dismember him.
Two of the beast's claws rake across Baergar, leaving a nasty series of gashes across his chest. He begins to stagger and fall, but the cleric behind him rushes forward, laying a hand on his shoulder and radiating healing energy.
At the same time, the two soldiers draw their blades and rush in, trying to capture the beasts attention with a series of quick strikes.
One of the blades catches the beast's flesh, and it turns snarling toward the attacker.
"Lucky indeed!" Baergar shouts to the cleric. "Now let us put this beast to bed!"
Baergar swings once...
...then rushes between the two soldiers and swings again.
The beast roars in fury at the many cuts which mar it's skin. It lashes out at the nearest target, the soldier who cut it.
The soldier is ripped open and flung aside by the beast, it's claws covered in gore. It turns, snarling at Baergar.
Wide eyed, the remaining soldier swings hard at the beast, trying to put it down before it can cause more harm.
The beast begins to slump and stagger as the soldier's blade nicks an artery in it's neck, clearly near death. The cleric lays hands on Baergar, another surge of healing rushing into him.
Baergar calmly steps toward the beast and neatly slides his blade into the creature's lung to end its suffering.
Leaving his sword in the creature's body, Baergar walks over to the ruined soldier and gathers the man up in his arms and lowers his head and prays in a stranges, calming language.
"All Father. Odin. Hear me. I am Baergar and I ask you send the Valkyries to wing this brave man to you hall where he may live forever."
The cleric hurries over, but sighs as he reviews the man's wounds. A strong breeze passes over the area, and a sudden calm seems to fall. There is no sign of any further bugbears.
It occurs to Baergar that a beast like this may well have a bounty on it's head, and it may be wise to take a trophy from the creature. The cleric murmurs an additional prayer for the dead, and the men set about quickly burying the few soldiers who fell in the raid.
As the men dig, the cleric turns to Baergar. "If... If you hadn't been with us, I fear we may all have been slain by that beast. You have our eternal thanks. If there is ever something we can do, please let us know. You're will always be welcome in our caravan." The man bows low to Baergar.
"Luck was with us today my friend. And there is no need to bow. A man is happy to defend his friends."
Baergar goes to the corpse and removes his sword and lops off one of the creature's massive paws.
"Let's continue shall we?"
The men all nod, and once the cleric finished patching the wounded, they begin to move again toward Kalsgard.
It is several days before the caravan reaches Kalsgard. The city sits on the southern bank of the Rimeflow River, clearly the largest habitation for many miles. It's walls stand as a barricade against the surrounding wilderness, and it is clearly a well defended, remarkably cosmopolitan city. An excited babble breaks out in the ranks of a caravan, the relief of reaching civilization plain in the faces and voices of the many caravan members.
Several minutes pass between the sighting of the city, and arriving at it's gates, and after a brief though thorough examination, the guards allow the caravan in. "We usually stay in the Bone quarter, it's less expensive and they have good lodgings for caravans such as ours. We spend much of our time over in the Ivory quarter, that's where most of the business happens. You're welcome to stick with us here, though I think we'd all understand if you have business elsewhere," the cleric says with a smile.
"Well I do need to get onto Bindt, but I will probably wait a day. How long will your business take or how can I reach you later?"
"We will likely be here at least a week, while we sell what we can, buy what we ought to, and rest our feet. We'll be continuing on to Bildt after that, so if you want to send a messenger along the roads, they should reach us. Unless, of course, you want to pay for us to travel by ship." The cleric's eyes twinkle, clearly thinking the idea ridiculous due to expense. "If I may ask, are you intending to pursue an audience with the King? If so, we ah... we would be interested in aiding you, if you would like."
"Well, if you are travelling on my way, it would be a shame to miss out on such good company! That should give me time to meet with the King regarding the raids as well."
"I'll seek an audience and let you know the details."
Baergar leaves in search of the palace and an audience with the king.
Following the arteries of the city, Baergar is quickly able to find the Hold where the king resides. As he approaches, the guards are understandably nervous, crossing their poleaxes to block his way. "Hold, sir. What is your business here?"
"I'm here to see our good King." Baergar says with a smile.
The guards both peer at Baergar, trying to discern his motives.
Both seem a little sleepy, and look to each other uncertainly. "Ah... Well audiences should be beginning soon, so I suppose you'd best head inside then."
Baergar is waived inside, and greeted by the seneschal. "Here for an audience? What is your business?"
"I am here to offer my services as the King's eyes and ears in Bindt where raiding is gaining popularity against the King's wishes."
The seneschal raises his eyebrows. "That's very... direct. Most aren't quite so bold in their words. I'm afraid thought that the king will not be needing your services, he is already quite well equipped to handle this situation." The seneschal begins to turn to leave, giving Baergar a dismissive waive.
"I am headed to Bindt in any case on personal business. What harm in offering a pair of free eyes? I really must insist as it is my duty as a resident of this country to serve the king in any way I can."
Turning up his nose up, the seneschal shakes his head. "I wish you the best on your personal business, but the King certainly doesn't need the help of some brute off the street. Now please leave before you are escorted out." Placing his hands on his hips, the seneschal taps his foot impatiently.
"I will go, but first, I think you should hear the tale of Huril of Honglas."
"Huril was not a strong man, nor was he a good fighter. Yet he ruled he hold in peace and prosperity despite jealous and covetous neighbors. How is this possible? Huril had charm.
"His charm earned him many allies and easily to enemies into friends."
"It is my hope, dear sir, that we can be such friends. Are we? Are we now friends?"
NO MEANS NO
"I... Well, I suppose so. Really I must say that it seems more reasonable to return to our roots, don't you think? But... I suppose you're right, you should at least have the opportunity to speak with the King." The Seneschal looks over the list of people waiting for an audience. "Usually there would be a wait, but... I think we can squeeze you in a little early." With a wink, he turns around and walks into the chambers.
Two minutes later, Baergar is ushered into the throne room. It is a simple room, made more imposing and daunting by it's sparseness. The ceilings are high, the walls and columns stone, and the floor is covered in thick, red rugs, which provide the only splash of colour other than the banner over the king's head.
The king is a big, imposing man, and while he is clearly advancing in age, he still looks quite capable of crushing any man in the room. His eyes are a deep green, and peer out from under a furrowed brow. "I understand you have a proposal for me." He waves, and many of the guards step out of the room, the remaining few moving towards the edges of the walls as the king waves you forward, continuing in a lower voice. "And I understand it may be a proposal best made privately. So. What do you have in mind?"
Baergar bows.
"Good King. It is widely rumored that the old tradition of reaving is not only revived, but being encouraged against your lordship's wishes."
"I know your Seneschal has more information here than I do, so I will let him explain, but the short of it is this: I am going to be in Bindt and I would offer my services as your majesty's eyes and ears, and, with your permission, your arm of justice."
"But we should really understand the extent of the problem."
"Seneschal, please inform the king to all you know of the reaving in Bindt, including who is involved."
The seneschal looks a little nervous and uncomfortable. "Ehm. Well, most notably Ingimundr supports the reaving, though he has, obviously, forbidden it. He's been... ah... lax in enforcing the law though. Most in Bildt are in favor. And... not to be contrary but I also do support a return to the old ways. Not," he adds hastily, "That I would ever contravene your wishes, majesty." The seneschal looks much more uncomfortable at this point.
"There are rumors of camps and outposts being used to host the raiders, and someone in Bildt must be coordinating the sale and redistribution of any goods that have been reappropriated."
The king listens intently while the seneschal speaks, leaving a few moments silence after he finishes. "We will speak later, seneschal. For now, I would speak with this man alone." He waves dismissively to the seneschal, and waits until he has left the room.
Once the man has left the room, King Svienn fixes Baergar with a very intense stare. "So. What would qualify you to serve as my agent? And what proof do I have that you would be my agent, and that you weren't sent here by another to cause more trouble?"
"Nothing in particular qualifies me aside from my willing ness to help. You could consider my love of valor and honor as requisite skills if you would."
"In truth, I am serving my own ends overall, but for the moment, our ideals align and I will be in Bindt in any case."
"I can assure you that my presence in Bindt will cause trouble, but not against you. Only against those that would live dishonorably."
The King frowns. "If you have no particular qualifications, then why would I want you to represent me? That would make you a liability, willingness and chivalry aside. And if your presence will cause trouble and unrest in my lands, then why would I not have you arrested?"
Baergar sighs.
"I have many qualifications" He begins to fly a few feet off the ground, and casts prestidigitation to cause rings of fire to circle is hands and head. "I am gifted in speech and spells and I am more than a passable swordsman."
He ends his flight and spell effects. "But my willing ness to serve should be reason enough: my desire to make this land better should qualify me. Do not employ only those with obvious uses, but rather find the use in every willing vessel and you will be a great king indeed."
The king looks rather surprised when Baergar lifts off the ground, and moreso when the fire begins to circle his hands. "Ah, so you do have qualifications then. A king must be cautious who represents him. It is better to be unrepresented, than represented by an incompetent man. So, what are your intentions in working as my agent?"
"I intend to root out those who would advise against your majesty's orders. I will attempt to sway those found to be reaving to a more honest path. And I intend to punish those who will not."
The King nods. "That would seem to be a reasonable ambition. And what would you expect in return?"
"I would ask a similar boon as a patron gives to a musician or poet."
"I would want the backing of your name to lend weight to my affairs on your behalf. I would ask protection in times of danger. And I would ask that my basic needs be met, either physically or in coin at your convenience. Lastly, I would ask that special services be rewarded according to their value to your lordship."
The King studies Baergar for a long moment. "If your actions bring disrepute on my name, I will have you hunted down, chained in a magic suppressing room, and left to rot. In the mean time, I will see to it that you are well provided for, and that you have the coin and resources you need." He walks to a low table tucked behind one of the pillars, and writes out a short message, placing it into an envelope and sealing it. "Take this to my master of coin, and he will see you appropriately compensated. Is there anything further that you would ask?"
"Only your good wishes, your majesty."
Baergar accepts the envelope, bows, and leaves in search of the coin master.
When he is sure he is alone, before he gets to the burser, Baergar will carefully break the seal, read the letter, then cast mending on the seal to make as though it was never broken.
Coinmaster,
Please provider this man with a minimum of 1000gp, and a maximum of 2000gp. Find how much he needs to handle his business for me, and compensate him appropriately.
Your King.
P.S. Follow our usual protocol for new payments. He's going to be travelling.
The seal is both broken and mended without incident, and the coinmaster is quickly enough found. He is an old, decrepit man, who looks so frail he seems he would hardly be able to stand in the face of a stiff gust of wind. He peers out at Baergar from under heavy brows holds out his hand for the letter. "Hm. Yes. King's business. How much did he say?"
"I do not know sir. The letter is sealed with instructions to deliver it to you."
Baergar smiles.
The coinmaster nods. "Aye. For a journey of this sort... I think 1000gp should suffice. Do you have any special needs or requirements?"
"1000 would be better than zero, but the nature of this work will be delicate. I may need to grease a few palms or hire some loyal muscle. Our good king wants this job done right, and 3000 would go a lot further to making that happen"
Baergar flashes his most trustworthy smile.
The old coinmaster sighs, but smiles. "Aye, and I'm responsible for making sure the kingdom doesn't go bankrupt while we're at it. Would 1750 go far enough?" He begins to rifle through a ring of keys, his eyes on Baergar all the while.
"I will take every penny you can give me, friend. As I said, 3000 is my ideal number."
The man chuckles. "3000 would be a pretty ideal number for myself as well, but alas, I'm not allowed to abuse the King's purse." The man turns, keys in hand, and slides the key into... nothing? It seems to disappear into thin air until only the handle remains visible. With a click and a quiet hum, the key swings outward, and Baergar can see the edge of some kind of dark opening, seemingly floating in mid air. The coinmaster withdraws several pouches, and sets them on the desk. "There we are."
Baergar laughs. "Nice trick. How much is here?"
"An even 1800. Too much work to lighten one bag." The man winks as he closes the invisible something, pocketing his keys. He draws a quill and scribbles on a scrap of parchment, sliding it across his desk toward Baergar. "If trouble arises, contact Torbin Fore. He is one of the King's... representatives, and he has means to quickly contact me if need be."
"Thank you for your time." Baergar pockets the bags and heads out to find his caravan.