"...Damn useless nobles!"
Not all nobles are useless, and my brothers are doing all the best to avoid war
"Erastil? They must have taken it from some hunter they robbed. It is likely worth a good amount of coin, but if you wish to keep it, I won't argue.
Thanks a lot. My mother was a cleric of Erastil and I keep good relations with this god.
“Here, please, take these. These two are curative potions, nothing major. But if you are lightly wounded they would work great. This one here helps you with a boost to your defenses. Bokken calls it a Shield of Faith.”
Who? Sigra turned her head quizzically at Oleg's mention of a 'Bokken'. Was this someone she was supposed to know?
“What are you planning to do next? I mean its still early morning, you have this prisoner, and he has told you where their base was located...”
"Mh," Sigra agreed.
Bertrand doesn't really like the idea of trying to hunt for the bandit camp, leaving Oleg and Svet in danger, but he only has one vote. "Well, the bandit's dogs have run off. They're likely to run back home and that will warn the camp that their "tax party" ran into trouble. So I guess we should try to find the camp and see how many bandits we are facing. I just hope they don't try something sneaky like taking a round-about trail here so we don't see them. We arrive at the bandit camp while they are here.... Not a pretty picture! On the other hand, if we get lucky and spot the group coming here we can ambush them. Does anyone have good tracking skills? A group of amateurs like these with six horses should have left a pretty easy trail to follow."
"I don't know anything about tracking..." says Brother Belchfast, thinking. "And I certainly wouldn't want to be somewhere else if the bandits came again."
Belchfast turns to the prisoner.
"How long until the men in the camp decide that something's wrong when you don't return? What will they do if the dogs come back without the men?" He turns back to Lordar and points at the amulet. "And while we're at it, what's the story with this amulet? Was Happs a priest of Erastil?"
Lordar donesn't like leaving Oleg and Svet unprotected, but the can't do so much.
Their only opportunity was engaging bandits before they realizing what was happened.
I'm with Sigga. Bandits doesn't know what happened here. When dogs come home, we could be half way through. I'm not good with stealth, but you could ambush them without problems.
But, one question... it would be safe camping in the forest?
I have Iron enough to protect me, so you can distribute the potions as you wish.
Jason has a puzzled look when Belchfast asked about the dogs, “They weren’t the greatest dogs. There’s a guy at the camp that tries to train them, but they are more to bring a bit of fear to those we come across. The chances of them making it back to the camp is slim to none. This place is a very deadly place. I doubt they will make it halfway home before come across something that will make them their lunch.”
Looking over the amulet he hands it back to Lordar/Belchfast, “That’s no holy symbol. That is the symbol of the one who is uniting the bandits of this area. They are given to his generals. Happs and Kressle both had one. They call him “The Stag Lord.” I’ve never met him, or been to his base. All I know is he sends men up to to collect his dues from us.”
“Those at the camp will only begin to wonder what happened to us if we have been gone for a week. It only takes a day or so to get here, but you never know the trouble you might come across that would delay us from getting back to camp. If everyone were to be at the camp you’d see it be 20 men strong, but you just took care of 5 of those...”
That’s no holy symbol. That is the symbol of the one who is uniting the bandits of this area. They are given to his generals. Happs and Kressle both had one. They call him "The Stag Lord." I’ve never met him, or been to his base. All I know is he sends men up to to collect his dues from us.
Lordar examined the pendant. It doesn't have any special, but he had to make sure...
"Those at the camp will only begin to wonder what happened to us if we have been gone for a week. It only takes a day or so to get here, but you never know the trouble you might come across that would delay us from getting back to camp. If everyone were to be at the camp you’d see it be 20 men strong, but you just took care of 5 of those...
20 men!? Oh, that will be hard!
We must do it. We'll leave when you are preparedWhat can we expect? Tell us. Patrols? How many? How many men in the camp usually? By day? By night?
_______________________________________
Bertrand, can you examine the symbol? I'm thinking that could have some kind of magic
Halden, you can pretend to be one of them, they may not know each other, so, it's better you wear the amulet. If we meet some bandits by the way, this could be a good costume, at least for you
Not all nobles are useless, and my brothers are doing all the best to avoid war
"You're the exception then," said Halden, looking somewhat unconvinced. "He certainly seems to admire his family. Wonder what that's like."
Does anyone have good tracking skills? A group of amateurs like these with six horses should have left a pretty easy trail to follow.
"I can try to track them. If they still have 15 men left, then a direct assault will probably just get us killed. We need to catch them when they are split up, perhaps by ambushing a patrol or attacking the camp when most of them are out doing something. If it takes a day to get to the outpost, they won't even know that Happs and company are missing by the time we get there. Assuming we leave now, of course."
Halden, you can pretend to be one of them, they may not know each other, so, it's better you wear the amulet.
"I don't think that will work Lordar. Jason said that these amulets were only worn by the leaders of the bandits, and I assume that the bandits will at least know who their leaders are."
Turning back to the group, Halden states, "I am ready to go as soon as the rest of you are. We may be out in the woods for a few days, so make sure you are prepared. I'm sure Oleg has plenty of supplies if any of you need to stock up."
Bertrand glances at the amulet when Lordar mentions magic. "Hadn't thought about magic, and I haven't prepared the cantrip to detect it. But it's unlikely that a lesser commander would be allowed something that valuable. He was wearing it so it can't be cursed."
Lordar answered Halden
I'm trying to do things well. I'm not here as a nobleman, but as Abadar's Church envy, diplomat, fighter and mate. Anyway, I don't think my family is going to miss me
Sigga, are you ready to leave? I only need take my backpack
Jason nods towards Lordar, “There could be that many men, but its not likely. Some will be out on patrols, some will be hunting and gathering food for the camp, and some might just be gone... its always different.”
The group has had a busy morning. Ambushing the bandits at dawn, giving the dead a final resting place, and interrogating Jason. Svetlana offers everyone a bit of lunch before their journey, “Be sure to have a warm meal, you never know what you’ll have out there.” she says as she nods to the south.
The group gathers their gear and sets out in search for the this bandit outpost. Oleg and Svetlana wave you off as you go, but Svetlana walks up to Sigga and lowers her voice, “When the bandits came the first time they took my wedding ring, please find it. I would love to pass it onto our child when they are married.”
Following the directions Jason gave the group, the party sets out. As you are riding south west across the plains you begin to think how thankful you are that you have horses. It takes roughly 4 hours to arrive at the forest. Making your way across the plains, the wind whips your cloaks wildly almost pulling it free from your shoulders.
The wild life is scarce right now at midday. Even though its the hottest part of the day, it is still a chilly one. You do see birds flying in the sky, rabbits running here and there, and as you are approaching the forest you do see some deer become spooked and rush back into the safety of the trees.
At first it is easy to follow the tracks, but as you venture south on the plains Halden is not able to keep or find the tracks. But you do remember the directions Jason gave you, “South West through the forest until you hit the Thorn River, then follow that south.”
You spend a few hours of travel in the forest and realize that the underbrush is slowing down the progression even on horseback. A few hours go by and it is beginning to get dark. You do know that you would be needing to spend at least one night within the forest...
Sigga, are you ready to leave? I only need take my backpack
"Mh," Sigra nodded again. The mercenary very literally carried everything she owned on her back, in her rucksack to be exact; she was ready to go at any time.
Well, perhaps not quite ready. She looked at herself; slaughtering bandits had left her caked in blood and burying said bandits had left her further coated in dirt. Maybe she wasn't entirely travel ready. She certainly wasn't dinner ready, Sigra thought, as Svetlana offered the group a lunch before their departure.
"... I'm gonna go clean my armor."
Sigra slinked off to the stables, intending to give her armor and herself a quick rinse. With the help of her waterskin and a rag, the hardened hide suit soon looked halfway decent again. Sigra wasn't too bothered. It wasn't like the battered thing had ever been flattering exactly. Somehow the grime on her own person proved more stubborn, however. She scrubbed at her arms, but while the top layer of soil came off fine, the bottom layer of blood remained. Sigra scrunched up her face in confusion and scrubbed harder. Finally, bit by bit, the blood came off in crusted flakes and yet... She didn't understand. Why were her arms still red?
Calm down, Sigga.
But she couldn't calm down. There was something wrong here. Sigra scrubbed harder still. Why couldn't she clean her arms? They were a deep red, as if the blood had seeped into and stained her skin and... Sigra's breath caught in her throat as she realized there was no skin. Scales. Her arms were covered in blood-red scales.
The waterskin fell to the floor as the mercenary flew up in a panic, holding her arms up and away from her like the thoroughly alien objects they were. I told you to calm down, the Voice reprimanded her, but she was far too scared to care. She only barely registered the crash as she backed into the stable wall. There was only her, the horrid reptilian things attached to her, and her hyperventilating heart. What was going on? What was happening to her? What...
And just like that it was over. Sigra's saucer-like eyes suddenly weren't staring at appendages that looked more at home on some sort of lizard person, but at a normal pair of arms. A bit too thin, yes, and lot too sinewy, but unmistakably hers. She didn't understand. By every god above and below, what just happened? Was she hallucinating? If so this was distressing to say the least. Sigra had heard voices her entire life, but she'd never seen things that plainly weren't there. Not to her knowledge, anyway. This was an entirely different league of derangement and the thought that her condition might be worsening frankly terrified her.
That she turned to the presence in her head for answers, a being most likely nothing more than a manifestation of her insanity, should really be equally troubling.
"What the fu*k was that?" she asked, voice still shaky.
No answer.
"No. No, don't you dare! Don't you dare clam up when I finally need you! What was that?! What did I see?!"
There will be... changes, Sigga.
The Voice sounded unusually soft. Playful, even. Was that anticipation she heard?
Look forward to it.
Some minutes later a rattled Sigra joined the others for lunch. She didn't eat much.
----------
“When the bandits came the first time they took my wedding ring, please find it. I would love to pass it onto our child when they are married.”
Sigra was surprised to hear Svetlana's request. Not so much for the petition itself, but because the woman had directed it to her specifically, avoiding everyone else. Was it because she was... female? Was this a woman thing? The mercenary wasn't sure she understood. She wasn't exactly the most feminine of girls and feared that she might be missing something that would be obvious to another woman; to anyone that wasn't her.
Nevertheless, Sigra was eager to repay the group's hosts for their kindness and gave Mrs Leveton a very serious nod.
----------
Once on the road, out among the vegetation and trees (which were also vegetation, she supposed), Sigra found that she was rather enjoying the journey, despite the grim job that lay at the end of it. She had never been an out and out nature lover, but she definitely had an appreciation for it. Perhaps it came along with growing up in a city. It even helped her calm down after the traumatic event at the stable.
Feeling inspired enough to make conversation, she turned her head towards Lordar and asked, very matter-of-factly:
"You said your family doesn't miss you. Why?"
It was a detail that had struck her in the paladin's earlier conversation with Halden. It seemed so horrid, perhaps especially because she had never known a family of her own.
I'm up for both exploring or heading straight for the bandits. Maybe we could go for the bandits first and then explore properly on the way back to Oleg's, in the interest of not encountering something nasty that could leave us crippled for the bandit fight. Thinkin' poisons and whatnot.
Anyway, I don't think my family is going to miss me.
"Now that, I can relate to." "I wonder what ever happened to my father. I guess he's probably still living in that cabin in the woods. If he's even still alive that is."
Halden was happy to be back in the forests. There was something very peaceful about being away from civilization. Here, he could be free from his past mistakes. Halden rides at the front of the group, trying to find any signs of prior passage. If the party could catch a bandit patrol off-guard, the eventual assault on their base would be much easier.
As the end of the day approached, Halden stops his horse and turns to the party. "We should probably stop and make camp soon. Traveling through the woods after dark is a bad idea."
"You said your family doesn't miss you. Why?"
Lordar fell a punch on his stomach, but he was able to see forward and answer her, his voice sounded sad and raspy.
My older brother... He will inherit my mother's name and lands from my father. He is really selfish and only care about himself. My sister... She married another nobleman and she can't afford to waste her time with her youngest brother.
And my father... my father forced me to serve as an Abadar's Initiate when I was 13. He was a rich merchant before he married my mother... I haven't seen him since then, although, I had news and things do not seem to go too well.
While he was spoken, his voice sounded lower and lower. Just one second after finish, he spoke as loudly as ever.
But, in the Church, I found my real family. My brothers and sisters fight side by side and, at this moment, they are protecting innocents, clearing trade routes, and trying to avoid war.
Lordar felt some cold, just when he spoke about his family, he felt a jab in the heart.
Damn... it still hurts, even after so much time. But I need to stay over all that mundane stuff. We are here, with this people, now, and we have a duty to acomplish...
It's not a happy story, but I've never asked for pity.
He sighed and continued
But enough sadness... We are here for a reason, and whatever it could be, It doesn't care if we fulfill our duty. I wonder we all have something to prove to anyone, or to ourselves...
Bertrand follows along with the group. He has no significant skills at wood craft and would likely get lost if he tried to travel around by himself.
After a days travel, and a good amount of time of traveling within the woods, Halden has called it for the day. The party has not reached the river like Jason has told them, but then again he did say it would take a day and a half.
@Halden, go ahead and give me a survival check for finding a place to set up camp that looks like it would be out of the elements and safe.
"... I'm sorry."
The sordid tale of Lordar's early history saddened Sigra. She had never known her own family, but to hear the paladin speak of being rejected by his own, she couldn't help wondering if she was perhaps the more fortunate of the two. At least he found solace in the church. This was good.
Don't be happy for him. Pity the fool, the Voice suddenly interjected, sounding particularly venomous.
The loss of his family is the greatest thing that ever happened to him and he can't even recognize it. Worse still, he went looking for another. Sigga, everything your kind calls kin is an obstruction. It weakens you. You use friends as a crutch even as your legs atrophy and rot. You lean on family when you should stand on your own. Foolish creatures! You could learn from base animals; do as the bird who throws its chick to its death to teach it how to fly... I say that when the paladin lost everything, he could have become anything. But at that time, when he should have looked inwards, he looked outwards. He looked to faith. He found new shackles in religion. His church defines him now and he will never become more than their pet dog. He will never realize his potential. He is weak. Do not associate with him.
Sigra twitched in her saddle. She had heard this spiel before; the Voice had been telling her to avoid all social relations and that her lack of family was a gift her entire life. She still wasn't convinced, although she had undeniably grown an appreciation for independence and self-reliance. It seemed too... bleak a worldview, even for her. And it never resolved the more fundamental issue: the mercenary did long for human contact.
But enough sadness... We are here for a reason, and whatever it could be, It doesn't care if we fulfill our duty. I wonder we all have something to prove to anyone, or to ourselves...
"If you feel the need to prove yourself to someone, all your proving is your dependence on them. Do it for yourself."
Was she referring to his family or church in saying 'someone'? Sigra didn't even know. She didn't even know where the words had come from; they just flew out of her mouth before she could stop them. Was it something the Voice had told her before? Probably.
"Hmm. I don't see anywhere that would make a good campsite around here. Perhaps we should push on for a bit longer and hope we come across somewhere more suitable."
"... What's that over there?" Sigra asked Halden just as they were ready to move on.
"If you feel the need to prove yourself to someone, all your proving is your dependence on them. Do it for yourself."
I don't think so, but, I must do some things by myself, only because that things have to be done, and that will prove some people who is important for me that things can change and all they thought was not completly true...
The evening is starting to get late and Halden is having a hard time finding a suitable place to make camp. You’re not finding a clearing that can sleep the party and the horses. Everything seems to have rocks or gnarled roots just close enough together that you won’t be able to get good enough sleep for the rigorous day tomorrow.
Another hour goes by, the party giving up for the evening and figure that sleep anywhere would be better than no sleep at all.
Bertrand has trouble concentrating on anything but the infernal beast that he has been riding for the day. Previously he had thought that the wagon was an uncomfortable ride but now he wishes for such a plush ride.... As Halden is searching for a good campsite wonders what is wrong with any of the sites that they bypass. He dismounts and walks along with the horse.
As the daylight fades without the party finding a decent campsite, Halden grows increasingly annoyed with himself. "I'm supposed to be the expert at wilderness survival and yet I can't even find a decent campground. What the hell am I doing?"
"It's too dark for us to go any further. We should stop and make camp here before we end up getting lost."
Halden begins taking his camping gear out of the saddlebags on his horse when he notices something off in the distance. Fire? Music? Someone else must be camping nearby.
In a low whisper, Halden says "There's another group camping over there. It could be a bandit patrol I'm going to try and check it out quietly. Have your weapons out and be ready to fight if something goes wrong."
If there are no objections from the group, Halden will sneak through the underbrush to get a closer look at the camp.
If there are no objections from the group, Halden will sneak through the underbrush to get a closer look at the camp.
Lordar felt like home in forests. Nevertheless, this forest was not as the one where he played when he was a child. There was something menacing, something stalking them...
He shook the head and tried to focus his sight. He... they trust Halden. The explorer was in his terrain, but it was better everyone stay alert.
When shadows fell over them, Lordar used his evil sight. It wouldn't detect animals, but stories told about many other creatures living there, so Lordar continued alternating his human sight and sacred sight.
Lordar felt the alarm in Halden's voice, and whispered too
There's another group camping over there.
Another camp? Are you sure? How far? Lordar blurred his gaze once more, to get the evil sight and took a look at that direction.
It could be a bandit patrol I'm going to try and check it out quietly. Have your weapons out and be ready to fight if something goes wrong.
He nodded. Be careful, Halden, we will stay here, ready for combat.
Quietly, he draw the scimitar...
"I don't see anyone..." Belchfast says. "Well, I'll take your word for it. Want me to join you?"
Belchfast draws his rapier and cleans it, preparing for a fight.
Halden begins to sneak up on the other camp. It does take about ten minutes to get close enough to see, one because of the underbrush and that he is stealthing, and two because it is a little ways off.
As you approach you see a small camp; an open fire with two partly eaten rabbits roasting over it, two bedrolls one empty and one with a... wolf sleeping on it. Halden ducks low as to not be seen by the wolf, but he notices it is sleeping.
Against the tree is a trim man wearing leathers and fur. On the ground next to him is an unstrung bow and quiver of arrows. At his side is a strange looking sword, it looks shorter than a typical shortsword and it has a slight curve to it. The man is playing his lute:
“Oh he thinks the can best,
Us as we lay here and rest.
Sneaking up through the wood,
Being as rude as he could...”
At that the man stops playing his lute and sets it down, he pulls a dagger out and cuts off a leg off of the rabbit and begins to sit back down, “Come on over, friend? Only those who have something to hide sneak about at night...” he begins to eat the meat off of his dagger.
Want me to join you?
"No, your armor will make too much noise. Stay here, but be ready to come and help me if you hear sounds of fighting.
Come on over, friend? Only those who have something to hide sneak about at night...
"Crap, I've been spotted. But he hasn't attacked me, and I don't want to have to fight that wolf. Who the hell is this guy?"
Halden steps into the light and says, "Very well then, friend. My name is Halden Elwood. Who are you?"
"I sure hope the rest of the team is close enough to hear me in case this goes badly."
When Halden mentions another camp and getting his weapon ready Bertrand remembers that he had left his crossbow attached to the horse, and he hadn't taken the saddle off. His horse might be as tired and cramped as he was.... He moves over and gets the crossbow, loads it and sets it down. He starts to remove the saddle, then realizes that he may need it ready if they have to move quickly. He tightens the saddle again, then picks up the crossbow and waits/watches for Halden.
Motioning with the knife towards a log, “You might as well have a seat and a bite to eat. And don’t worry about ole thunder, she wouldn’t harm a soul... that I didn’t approve of that is.” He smiles as he looks towards the wolf, the wolves old eyes goes from his owner to Halden and back to Henrik again. “Halden ya say? The name’s Henrik, friends and family call me Hank. Don’t really have to many of them around anymore...” Henrik takes another bite.
“You look like a traveler, and I don’t think you’d be out here without a horse. I take it you spotted the fire from a ways off, left the horse out there in the woods? Not smart my friend, there’s some stuff out here that would make a horse a snake. What brings you out here?”
The party watches as Halden begins to stealthily move through the underbrush, eventually losing him as he begins to sneak. All of a sudden in the distance you see him pop up from the brush and walk into a clearing where the fire is, but then your vision is blocked by the underbrush.
"Yes, it would be rather foolish to leave a horse alone out here, which is why I left her with my friends. Why don't I go and fetch them so they can introduce themselves."
Halden heads back to the party, this time not bothering to be sneaky. "It's just one man, and his pet wolf. Doesn't strike me as the bandit type. He seemed a bit strange, but friendly enough. Spotted me trying to sneak up on him and didn't attack, so I doubt he's much of a danger, but there's no way to know for sure. I think it would be for the best if we all went and talked to him. Take your things with you."
Henrik gives you a studying look. “I will let you know, if you are trying to pull something funny, that Thunder and I have no problem dealing with issues that... arise.” Henrik looks in the direction that you came from. “I don’t know how many friends you have with you, but if they are friends they are welcomed to camp here. Don’t know if I have enough food, but I could always go back out and hunt.”
Henrik picks up his lute as you make your way back to the party. His tune and song fade from earshot as he isn’t singing loudly.
Bertrand eases the bolt from his crossbow and re-slings it on the horse. "Pet wolf? Sounds interesting. But if he's found a comfortable camp site that's a great plus."
Sigra listened as Halden explained the nature of the nocturnal encounter. It all sounded a bit odd, but she did not protest going to see the stranger's camp. After all, the party needed somewhere to sleep for the night.
Once there, the mercenary gave a nod by way of greeting to their host and made herself uncomfortable; she didn't want to fall asleep just yet. The gnarled tree she chose to lean up against poked at her just enough to ensure this. Best to be wary for now.
"... Evening," she said.
And that was about all she had to say. Sigra might be an orphan, but if she had a mother she was sure she would have taught her not to talk to strangers with wolf companions.
Lordar entered in the camp with caution. He had been sheathed, but he looks willing to draw if detected something was wrong.
Also, Lordar was worried... what kind of reaction would have their horses when they were near the wolf? He grabbed the reins harder.
Good evening, traveller. My name is Lordar, could we know yours?
After answer
Did you go to the forest alone? he peeked the wolf or almost alone
Lordar concentred to reach his soul vision and examined both the man and the beast.
“I will let you know, if you are trying to pull something funny, that Thunder and I have no problem dealing with issues that... arise.”
"I assure you, we mean no harm. And I certainly wouldn't want to mess with your friend there. There are five of us, plus horses. I appreciate the generosity, but we can feed ourselves. No need to trouble yourself."
Halden leads the party back to Henrik's camp. "Everyone, this is Henrik, and that's Thunder. Henrik, this is Bertrand, she's Sigra, he's Lordar, and the dwarf is Brother Belchfast," he says, pointing to everyone in turn. Halden sits down by the fire. "Thank you for letting us share your campsite. Thunder won't bother our horses, right?"
"Well well," says Brother Belchfast, looking over the stranger. "You weren't who we were expecting."
He sits himself down clumsily near the fire. "Well, if you're sharing your fire with us, I suppse we should share something with you. Care for a drink?"
Belchfast produces his flask and offers it to Henrik. "So what's your story, Henrik?"
As the group approaches the camp the light begins to cut through the darkness of this night. You also are greeted with the aroma of meat that is roasting over a fire, and the joyful sound of music. “.... with that the count was three” Everyone comes through the brush into the campsite. You are all surprised by the size of the camp compared to the one you were just preparing to sleep in, Halden must have been getting tired.
You see a trim, clean shaved man leaning against a tree who places his lute on the ground next to him as you all arrive. There is a wolf who tiredly looks up at the approaching party, turns its eyes to the man who shushes it and scratches it behind the ear, and lays back down. “Greetings friends! Come, the air is chilled tonight. Be warm by the fire.” As he says then you do realize that it is cool out and the warmth of the fire is a welcomed feeling.
After Halden does the formal greetings, Henrik smiles and nods as each person is introduced. “As our friend Halden said I am Henrik, this old one is Thunder. No need to worry about her, shes a gentle soul. You know, I have raised her since she was just a wolf pup. Found her in a trap when I was younger.” Looking Thunder over you realize that she does indeed have age to her. Hair greying around her maw, though she does have tired eyes they look to have wisdom behind them and is drinking in every detail of what is going on around her.
“I mean no disrespect by not standing, it has been a long journey today and the rest is welcomed.” taking a dagger out he gently tosses it next to the fire that is roasting two partly eaten rabbits. “It might not be enough for all of you, but feel free to finish off those two.”
As everyone is getting settled in he turns towards Lordar and Brother Belchfast. With a wave of a hand he continues, “I have given up ale decades ago. I have learned, for me at least, it can turn us into a monster that we should not be... My story? Well, there isn’t much to it. Lived in a small village, I had a good job as a hunter. Then all my friends and family were dying around me and it didn’t feel like home anymore. So I went out for a hunt, and never went home. I have met friends along the way, like old Thunder here, but none that stayed longer than a month.”
Looking around the group, “What brings the likes of you out into these woods? You all don’t seem like the other ones traipsing around here with no clue of what is going on around them.”
- “I have given up ale decades ago”
- “I have raised her since she was just a wolf pup. Found her in a trap when I was younger.”
Nothing exactly wrong or deceptive, but something is sitting a tad off about this guy in the back of your mind.
Lordar listened to Henrick's story.
He felt the camp comfortable, and his hosts nice... but something in his story not sounded good...
But soon, he forgot what it was when he taste the rabbit, although he tried to find any trace of banditry om him (even a stag trinket), so he nodded and waited for Belchfast to countinue the conversation...
Bertrand looks for a place to tie off his horse and remove the riding gear, then enters the camp. He is impressed by the camp and looks for a place to lay his bedroll down for comfort. "Thanks for letting us join you. This site is better than where we had stopped."
“I have given up ale decades ago. I have learned, for me at least, it can turn us into a monster that we should not be...
What an utterly foreign perspective... Eh, Sigga?
Clucking laughter filled the halls of Sigra's mind as the Voice taunted her. It was true; this Henrik's outlook on alcohol was precisely the same as hers.
Ah, I do miss those days when you tried to drown me out with drink. I got so many more opportunities to come out to play...
A thud could be heard as the mercenary smacked her own head against the tree trunk behind her. It hurt, but it also distracted her from the presence and the memories it invoked. There had indeed been a brief time where Sigra, more so out of despair than thought, had tried to escape the omnipresent Voice through the rim of a glass. It was not a period she looked back on with pride. For although the pleasant haze of ale did indeed offer some brief respite, it was did so only by suppressing her conscious self: the Voice was still very much present and sober. And without a clear-headed Sigra to keep it in check, it ran practically completely free. Sometimes with violent results.
Sigra grimaced at the recollection. Now, considering her abstinent ways one might be lead to believe that she looked upon the group's gracious host Henrik as a kindred soul, given his own sobriety. But no, it was the exact opposite: the mercenary's suspicion of the man only intensified. After all, Sigra had no trouble recognizing that her problem with alcohol lay not in the substance itself, but with her. The drink merely loosened the shackles on an evil already present in her.
She wondered if Henrik realized what he was doing, casually admitting to a similar evil? One thing was for sure: Sigra didn't trust him any more than she trusted a dog with a shank of lamb.
Poor Belchfast, she briefly thought. This made two people who refused drink since he entered the Stolen Lands, and from a priest of the Drunken God at that. What were the odds?
"This Henrik is an odd fellow, but I sense no reason to hide our mission from him. Perhaps he can help us."
"We are here to explore the woods, and to deal with some bandits that have been attacking nearby settlements."
"You all don’t seem like the other ones traipsing around here with no clue of what is going on around them."
"Have you noticed a lot of people coming through here recently?" "Could be the bandits we are looking for."
After asking his question, Halden will sit by the fire and eat one of the remaining rabbits. The warmth of the fire feels great against the cool nighttime air. Halden was quite thankful the group had found a decent campsite. It would have been embarrassing to have his first day as a forest guide end with the group having to sleep on rocks and brambles.
“There is an encampment just south of here. Enough of them that its easy enough to find their tracks and avoid them. Well, with Thunders help. I haven’t been to the camp, but they seem to be heavenly guarded...” pausing for a moment Henrik takes a drink from his waterskin so that he can think, his eyes takes everyone in. Lowering the waterskin he continues. “What is your business with those men?”