Orri holds out a seat for his sister before happily taking a seat himself. "A pleasure I'm sure. My name is Orri and this is my sister Isabella."
He looks around and takes in the various sigils, banners and tabards doing his best to identify the various groups assembled.
Noticing the other man at the table and his body gaurd both have no marking he turns to him to say "Well met sir. That is some impressive armor you have there."
The heavily armored figure slowly turns its head to Orri when he addresses him, his features clouded in shadow behind the visor of his helm. The seated man in front of him says in a deep voice, ”He will not reply. He does not speak. But thank you, for the compliment sir.”
Whoops!
Isabella bites her lip as to not scoff out loud at her brother's flub. She turns to Sophie and Chrysa and nods in greeting. "It's a pleasure meeting you."
She turns out to admire the large groups that continue to gather and asks casually. "I have to admit I did not expect something like this? Am I the only one in the dark as to who everyone is here? I think I snubbed my time on the noble houses a little too much it would appear."
'How can I not remember anything about these insignias!?!' Chrysa yells at herself. The siblings, the half elf, the trio molesting each other in public, and she can't remember what bears, swans, or swords mean at all, other than WE ARE NOBLE, PEON! She had a tiny excuse since her education on the matter ended early and never assumed to be entangled in that life ever again.
She did notice Sophiel's glance and groaned a bit. 'She has to be perceptive and inquisitive, right? Could be dull-eyed and easily amused. Noooo, that would just make things easy.' her inner whining child wails at fate hating her.
Ignoring herself, she answers the sister."We seem to know nothing either about the true nature of this endeavor. Notable mercenary companies, smatterings of various noble houses, and unaffiliate adventures to do... what?"
As if on cue, the various servants all move to the walls and fold their arms behind their backs as a number of Swordlords make their way into the hall and take seats on an elevated platform at the end of the hall. ”Thank you for coming,” a middle aged woman among their number says. ”For those of you who do not know me, my name is Jamandi Aldori, Swordlord of Restov. With me are the Lord Mayor of Restov, Ioseph Sellemius, and Swordlord Trine Fervourblade.”
The Lord Mayor stands and adds ”There has been growing unrest on the southern border of Brevoy for some time, and we have asked the wise King Regent-”
”King,” a knight says, his banners and colors clearly indicating him as loyal to House Surtova.
Ioseph remains quiet a moment before continuing, ”His Grace has granted us the request to seek out able bodied individuals to put an end to the unrest growing there, as well as bring a bit of civility to the lands once and for all. To that end, we have sought out representatives from across the land who were able and willing to partake in this undertaking.”
A man whose tabard bears a crest is a black eagle with wings spread in front of a gold field, identifying him as a knight of House Orlovsky, stands and asks ”Pardon my inquiry, but exactly what sort of trouble will we be encountering?”
Jamandi speaks up again. ”You will be divided into four groups, each tasked with a different objective. Swordlord Fervourblade, if you would be so kind?”
Tribe stands and rifles through several leafs of parchment. ”Maegar Varn and his company have been tasked with heading into the Dunsward and settling the ire of the Nomen Centaur there and bring an end to their increased aggressions of late. Lord Drelev is to head to the Hooktongue Slough and similarly treat with and deal with the aggressions of the boggards and lizardfolk tribes.”
Lord Drelev stands and says frustratedly ”You send me and my subjects to the swamplands while some mercenary company heads to the hills of the Dunsward? This is an insult!”
”Pardons, My Lord, but if you believe yourself not up to the task, perhaps it would be best if you left the Swordlord’s request in more capable hands,” the lead man of the mercenary group, Maegar Varn, retorts with a wink and a smile to Lord Drelev. In turn, the Baron glares at Maegar from across the room and retakes his seat.
”As I was saying,” Trine interjects, ”in the Glenebon Uplands, we have elected to send Ser Artraxis of House Orlovsky, Lady Myrna of House Lodovka, Bladesinger Lethlaria Nendralania, and one...Krovax Draverian?” he asks quizzically.
The man at your table stands, his size evident for the first time. He is a bear of a man. He bows to the lords at the table and simply says ”Present,” before taking his seat again.
Trine nods in return and continues, ”Finally, we are tasking the following individuals with dealing with the bandits and trolls growing in number in the Greenbelt. Lady Sophiel of House Medvyed, Lady Isabella of House Lebeda and her half brother Orri, Justiciar Dunstan Isengraef representing House Garess, and a Miss Chrysa...?” he pauses as he cannot seem to find a record of a last name in his notes...
Chrysa groans inwardly, it would have been nice if the man would simply read from his list and not draw undue attention to some people, but last names are probably important to someone whose own is 'Fervourblade'.
Mimicking the behavior the knight, she stands quickly, bowing, and saying "Present" hoping the display will move them past last names.
He nods back to you and takes a seat as Jamandi stands. ”Does anyone have any further questions?”
Sophie also stands with Chrysa, a look of mild surprise on her face, which quickly passes. She bows, to the Lord Mayor, and says with a clear, strong voice, ”as always, House Medvyed will serve the crown.” and sits down, smiling politely.
When Isabella's name is called she doesn't stand but simple nods in acceptance in recognition of her assignment.
After Sophiel has regained her sit, Isabella looks to Chrysa with an inquisitive expression on her face. "Is your surname so difficult to pronounce or was he attempting to throw shade on your house? I ask truly, there is no ill intent here. If we are to adventure together, I would like to know the reason for the antics if I may."
She then turns to Sophiel and asks another question. "Lady Medvyed. I could not help but note your emphasis towards serving his grace. I for one applaud your bold declaration and loyalty."
To all assembled she speaks "And though his name were to be passed over as if it were nothing, I would have you all know that my brother Orri is a dedicated and honest man and we are lucky to have him at our side in our upcoming journey!"
The Swordlords and Lord Sellemius bow their heads back to your proclamations, and rise from their seats, ”We will leave you to your preparations, then. We shall do our part to help arrange for materials and supplies to follow along should your initial endeavors prove successful. May the gods protect you,” Jamandi says as she leads her trio out. Trine gives Isabella a subtle nod from across hothead room as he follows his senior officer from the room, the trio whispering quietly to one another as they leave.
Lord Drelev and his entourage rise and immediately depart, collecting a written proclamation from an attendant as he leaves. The aged knight can be heard saying behind him ”My Lord, perhaps we should take some time to get to know the others, as they could prove to be-“
”Shut it, old man,” the brute interrupts. ”Lord Drelev knows what he’s doing.”
”Watch your tongue, Ameon. I may be old but I can still show you how to properly use that blade of yours.”
”Enough from both of you,” Lord Drelev says sternly but quietly as he leads the procession out. ”Ser Terrion, see that the caravan is properly prepared. We leave immediately.”
”Yes, My Lord,” the aged knight replies.
”See ya around, Lord Drelev,” Maegar Varn calls out boldly, drawing some snickers from his own entourage.
The large, quiet man stands and makes his way to the gathering of those he has been assigned with, his bodyguard following along a few paces back. He bows politely to the lords and bows his head to the elven swordmaiden as he makes brief introductions to them all. She also bows in deference to the nobles in her group before beginning more casual conversation with them.
The wizard from the Varnling Host rises and makes his way to your group. ”Greetings. My name is Cephal Lorentus, archmage of the Varnling Host. A pleasure to make your acquaintances, Sers and Ladies,” he says with a polite bow, his back and knees audibly cracking as he bends, clutching his staff for balance.
"At an early age, I disagreed with the path my family laid out for me, so I left and decided I'd be better off being just me. The last name became an anchor to a past I no longer wanted." she cocks an eyebrow at the noblewoman as if to ask if that is enough to satisfy her curiosity. After a pause, she'll ask her own question "House Lebeda sending two of their children to clear a land of bandits. Is that normal for your people?"
She'll give a soft smile at the old man, "The Varnling Host is a well known and reputable company, sir. The <insert some job they did she might have heard about with her local knowledge roll, ignore this part if she knows nothing> is still spoken about in taverns all over. What brings you to an endeavor like this?"
Sophie raises an eyebrow at Isabella's statement, and responds merely with "indeed." She adds, "And Sophie is fine; we won't have time for such formality whilst stomping around the green belt" waving her hand dismissively. "so we had better get to know each other on a first-name basis."
She turns to Orri, "pleasure to meet you." and she curtsies briefly to the gentleman. Sophie looks over at Dunstan, "and you must be Justicar Isengraef." Sophie extends a hand to the paladin across the table, saying, "it its an honor to meet you. I have the deepest respect for Abadar." She appears to be quite sincere, and she returns to her seat to watch the end of the introduction.
---------------
When the mage of the Varnling Host approaches, she smiles at him and extends a hand in greeting, adding after Chrysa speaks. "the pleasure is ours. Am I to understand that you and Maegar Varn are to tame the hills in the east?" She pauses for a moment, "it is a wild place, you may find it easier to befriend the centaurs than to fight them. I do not envy either task - bandits and trolls are much more straightforward." She chuckles brightly at her own statement.
Cephal nods in thanks at Chrysa’s compliment. ”Yes, yes. Father Morgrarian was quite impressive in that endeavor. May I,” he says with a wave of his hand as he takes a seat without waiting for affirmation.
At Sophiel’s statement he replies ”So it would seem. But negotiations are fickle things, and the end result relies on many unpredictable factors, some so small and uncontrollable, yet often more impactful than any other. Such as meeting when one of the parties is having a bad day, or got too little sleep the night before, or perhaps having come off a recent, totally unrelated argument. We will have to tread those waters when we come to them,” he then turns back to Chrysa, and adds ”but to your earlier point, I believe he is seeking to make a name for himself beyond the mercenary company. Make his own mark in the world. He has no claim to his father’s holdings, after all.”
”Old man!” a voice calls out. Looking over you can see Maegar Varn making his way over. ”Are you boring these Lords and Ladies with your ‘council?’” he asks with a smile.
”It is only boring if it is unwelcome, and if that is the case then I have sorely misread the situation,” Cephal replies.
Maegar Varn bows with a flourish. ”Maegar Varn, at your service, Sers and Ladies.”
"It is nice to meet you, Maegar." Chrysa gives the man a smile, choosing his first name as an address, both for his casual nature and for the emphasis on the importance of it over the last. "It appears we will be neighbors in our pursuits. Have you had the pleasure of visiting the Dunsward hills before?"
Orri sits quietly as he listens to the swordlords and carefully watches the various groups and in particular the people he has now been assigned to work with. He smiles when his sister stands up for him, and just shakes his head as he is used to being overlooked. As Sophie and Chrysa both reply to his sister he remains quiet but nods his acknowledgement to them both.
As Chrysa asks about their family sending them both Orri chuckles "Well, we are both a little bit... extended from the main house so I suppose we are a bit more expendable." He gives Chrysa a half-joking grin.
As the mage mentions making a name for himself Orri chimes in "I would imagine there are others of us here for the same purpose of striking out on our own and being judged by our efforts and our merits rather than the name we were born into."
Isabella can't hide the smile that appears when Trine acknowledges her.
Nodding to Sophie, she responds "Very well, Sophie it is. If we are dispatching with formalities then, you may refer to me as Bella."
Orri addresses Chrysa's question and didn't feel like throwing any more dirt on their own name, so she left it alone.
Isabella goes through the motions of introducing everyone in their group to Maegar Varn after he has introduced himself. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I would offer council on how to best deal with centaur, but I'm afraid I have none. I will wish you the best of luck however." She ends with a polite smile.
Sophie nods at Isabella, "Bella it is, then."
Sophie nods at Cephal, "I may be a novice in these regards, but if you'll allow me: centaurs often feel bound to the land itself, in a space with clearly delineated boundaries. If you don't need that space, you may sidestep the issue altogether. Many are pleased to trade if you respect their lands." She purses her lips absentmindedly, then adds shrugging, "but this particular tribe could be completely different. I'm sure you know this, though, a wizard of your reknown." Sophie smiles at the mage with a mixture of admiration and friendliness.
Sophie extends a hand in greeting, and when politely offers the customary deferential handshake, she turns her hand to meet his, past his arm, and clasps his arm with a firm grip, "Maegar, it is wonderful to meet you in person. Uncle has told me all about you, and has the deepest respect. The stolen lands could not ask for a more decent man to try and tame them." Sophie looks at him in the eyes as she says this, respect obvious on her face.
Maegar Varn pulls out a chair and kicks his feet up on the table. ”Nope, never been,” he replies to Chrysa’s question. At Sophiel’s compliment, he shrugs and says ”Thanks, hun. I’m sure Gurev spoke nothin’ but roses and daisies of me and my crew,” with an eye roll.
As the talk turns to centaur, Cephal replies ”Thank you for the advice. I am certain-“
”They’ll come around, one way or the other,” Maegar interrupts as he sits up. ”The Varnling Host always completes its missions. Ain’t that right boys!” he calls back to his entourage who lets out a cheer and raises their steins.
The rucks causes the other group to grow quiet a moment as they wait for the cheers to settle down to a dull roar before resuming their own introductions to one another.
Chrysa smiles at the uproar, while inwardly thinking this bunch is so loud the centaurs probably already know they are coming. "The Hills are beautiful if nothing else. Do you have plans on when you'll be heading out?"
She'll watch the interaction between the two men with interest. Cephal doesn't seem to fit in with the rest of Maegar's crew.
Isabella observes the interaction between Sophie and Maegar with great interest.
It would appear that the Varnling Host does things [i]their way.
When Maegar kicks his feet on the table and speaks the way he does to Chrysa and Sophie, Isabella raises her eyebrows and looks at the two ladies to see how they are going to react.
When Chrysa responds, Isabella just continues to offer a polite smile and keep to herself. A chatty pair, these two.
Sophie watches Maegar Varn for a moment before she adds, "Gurev told me he respects you; he didn't say he liked you," She grins, and throws up a pair of fingers, "or is this just part of your 'mystique'" and makes air quotes around the word mystique.
"Anyway, did you want something from us, or...?" She looks puzzled, "were you just retrieving your wizard?" She cocks her head and peers at Varn curiously, her hands folded quietly as she stares unblinking, her violet eyes watching Varn intently.
Orri grins at Sophiel's to the point question and looks to Varn for his response. While he had no feelings on the man either way he thought it would probably be prudent to get to know the people he would be venturing into the wilds with and Varn was on a different team.
Dunstan has been sitting solidly in his seat, watching the people around him. He grunts in acknowledgement when he is mentioned, and shakes hands with those that greet him. These people are not like his people from the mines or the church, for good or ill, but starts to feel confident that he can work with them.
He notices the tensions arising between Varn and his teammate, and decides to study the interloper. Sophie appears to be a kind lass, but Dunstan hopes the banter stays more friendly.
Dunstan stands up and stares at Maegar Varn.
Maegar seems nice but a bit of a thrill-seeker. He seems to care little about social station, his or anyone else’s. Cephal is polite and smart, but refers to the far younger Maegar Varn in their tactics it would seem...
Soon the Swordlords send pages out who present each of you with scrolls. Unrolling then reveals them to be signed charters of exploration and judgement, granting you all legal authority to hand out Brevish justice in the Greenbelt!
Furthermore, you are instructed to head to a small outpost just beyond the edge of Brevish lands, owned by a man named Oleg Leveton. He has sent request for aid from Brevoy, but their preoccupation with this enterprise has prevented them from sending aid as of yet, and your benefactors hope that you can buy them time to do so properly.
For now, you find yourselves on the road west beyond Nivatka’s Crossing, a small village on the edge of Brevoys holdings that many consider the last vestiges of civilization. The Varnling Host turned south and parted ways from your caravans there, leaving now only your group and that of the other two Brevish bibles and the elven Bladesinger and Krovax. Lord Drelev’s own troupe has about a days headstart and seem intent on traveling further west through civilized lands before turning south. A plan seemingly shared by the other party still in your company.
Isabella takes her signed charter and secures it before joining the others as they depart. She encourages her brother to secure any additional supplies they may need before setting out with their caravan.
Once the Varnling Host has gone their own way, Bella remarks to her brother that she isn't sad to have parted ways with them. She keeps her remarks quiet however, know that they are still surrounded by unknowns in their party.
Chrysa joins Orri(and anyone else) in securing supplies as well as asking over what everyone already has and what the swordlords are willing to provide. "Waxed tarps and ponchos" she asks about especially. "Rain is sudden and heavy there. Tarps are easier and more versatile than tents." other than that she works on rations, cooking, and hopes against hope for a "A mule. Nothing better than a mule on any type of trip."
A Kan rule. Horses get spooked, people covet them, and are big as shit, but a mule is too stubborn to run, no one wants, and is more reasonable in size.
Orri had spent some time getting prepared before their trip. He hadn't ever really gone out into the wilderness like this before but he traveled around enough as a merchant that he knew the importance of being prepared.
He got a combat trained horse and several saddlebags to load up equipment to make both his and his sisters trip a little bit easier. Everything from waterproof bags, a large tent, and even map making equipment. He wanted to start things off right and not end up getting lost out in the wilds before he could even accomplish anything.
After they depart he is happy to let his sister ride on the horse is she didn't want to purchase one of her own. When he had a chance he would pull out his map making kit and journal to jot notes and draw out their route so far. When the Varnling Host departed he wished them well, but was excited to continue on toward their destination.
Dunstan folds his charter carefully and places it in his pack after carefully reading what authority it grants him and his compatriots.
Dunstan procures a few travel rations and a serviceable horse. He is slightly uncomfortable with the horse, but is eager to get to the destination.
Sophie continues to speak, somewhat coolly to Maegar, oblivious to his charms and keen wit. As the evening wrapped up, she bid everyone a good evening, then neatly tucked her charter away and put it in a safe place. She agrees to meet later, and heads to the library of the keep to do research on the stolen lands, the green belt, and the various other sub-regions. She stays up for part of the night, and at the crack of dawn, heads out to purchase a horse and associated supplies, as well as some vermin repellent and a hanging tent.
Sophie chats amiably with her companions, pointing out flora and fauna that she sees along the way, periodically scanning the path for otherworldly presences. She avoids interjecting advice, except when asked, but is obviously extremely comfortable in the wild. Her clothes appear to be well-worn, but maintained traveling clothes. She will let everyone know, roughly, what she can do in terms of her 'abilities' without getting into specifics, so that her companions are not surprised by her powers. She avoids interacting with the other chartered groups.
As she travels, she asks "does anyone know about the local bandits that might be in the area? I haven't traveled this far out of Brevoy in quite some time" idly, to everyone and no one.
Chrysa is quiet unless being talked to. At which point, she becomes question asking machine. "Otherwordly presences, as in what exactly?", "Who is older?", "What is a stone lord?" and the like... Until annoyance is blossoming and she stops again. Her eyes follow tree lines, underbrush, and swallow rises. And she often pets her mule's muzzle (keep your mule happy and it is one less thing that will try and kill you). At camp, she spends a few minutes every night filling the day's growth of her horns down.
Seeing that sooner or later parts of her past will come up, like running into a bandit crew and one of them pointing and yell out YOU USED TO BE ONE OF US! So at Sophiel's question she'll admit "I grew up around them, moving from one crew to another, until was old enough and smart enough to get out. So yes, I can... but no I can't. Local bandit bosses are like weeds, they grow get cut down, and another grows in their place. Enough years have gone by, I doubt any I could name are alive."
Orri is a little surprised at Chrysa's blatant admittance about previously being a bandit, he would have thought that is something someone would keep guarded. "Appreciate the honesty. If we are going to be working together I suppose it would be good for us to get to know one another a bit better. Not a lot to say about me. Bastard son of a slightly disgraced and now deceased noble. Devout follower of Abadar and travelling merchant. Haven't found too many situations yet I couldn't talk my way out of when the need arises."
He looks to the others, each briefly, "Any one else have any juicy secrets to air?" He smiles, half-joking but also honestly wanting to know.
Sitting on her own horse, she travels with the group at an easy pace. She looks extremely comfortable riding, having spent years of training at her aunt's request. As she glances among her party she takes note that she likely is the most experienced rider among her group.
She is also surprised with Chrysa sharing information so openly. This one is either very trusting or excellent in leading others into believing she is.
Isabella suppresses a chuckle. "I'd love for you to air some juicy secret Orr, why don't you start with your love life? Who are the lucky ladies? Or, " she pauses and adds with a smirk "or lads?"
Orri is spared the embarrassing topic as a change in discussion appears on the horizon. The rough tops of some towers peek out from a distant hill, the minuscule defenses of Oleg’s Trading Post. The final group traveling alongside you bids you farewell and safe journeys before continuing on west towards their destination.
As you approach Oleg’s, you can see that the doors stand ajar, and hear a heated discussion from within the walls. ”Hurry up, old man! You should have had these taxes ready!” a man’s voice can be heard barking orders.
”I’m doin’ the best I can!” another replies frustratedly.
”Watch your tone Oleg! Where’s that cute wife of yours? Have her come out and help. Or...I could just go and tend to her myself...” the first voice says, eliciting some chuckles from more men within.
Another voice calls out ”Slap him around, Happs! Show ‘er ‘ow a real man handles things!”
Just then, your group rounds the wall and into the gateway. ”Boss! Company!”
The bandits all wheel around, brandishing weapons against you immediately. ”Take ‘em down! More loot for the boss!” a man in a green hooded cloak calls out!
Immediately, the fighting grows intense! Isabella and Orri lunge against two of the bandits, trading blows and pushing them back thanks to their actual training. Dunstan wades in as well, delivering some heavy blows with his hammer. Sophiel causes some to slip up in a pool of grease, but they roll out of it and rejoin the fray quickly. Meanwhile, the man in the cloak sends some arrows at the newcomers, one of which slices through the meat of Chrysa’s shoulder painfully!
Chrysa rolls past a few of the bandits to get at the apparent leader. She thrusts her blades at the man, who manages to dodge them deftly. As he does, his hood flips back and she gets a good look at him...
A look of recognition comes over him as he looks at Chrysa, before putting a boot to her chest and pushing her back. ”Let’s get out of here, boys!” he calls out, and he and four others bolt out the gates and onto some tied horses. Happs flails his arms at your own steeds as he passes, causing them to rear back and move away a bit to buy them time to flee on their mounts across the open hills to the south west.
As pulses slow and you each catch your breath, Oleg, a middle aged man who looks more aged from stress and worry than the years, approaches you. ”Thank Erastil! It’s about time Restov sent me some help! Thank you! Thank you all!”
About that time, a younger, lovely woman peeks out from the small house within the fort. Seeing it safe, she steps out and joins in your praises. ”Thank you all, so much! Pardon my husband’s manners. My name is Svetlana, and this is my husband Oleg. Please, make yourselves at home!”
Chrysa brushes off the dirt as she gets up, scowling at the fleeing men. To whoever comes to check on her (if anyone does), "Happs is his name, mean piece of work, never satisfied with what he's got, and apparently a good kicker." she'll say that quietly, because while she decided to impart the knowledge of her youth on to her companions to foster trust, the same result is unlikely for the locals.
Then as the young woman and middle age men shower them with thanks, she start her upcoming barrage of questions with "They're running a protection scheme, aren't they? Keeping you "safe" as long as you pay ever increasing payments. Are they always the same crew, or are they hanger's off a bigger boss?"
Orri dusts him self off after the brief scuffle and moves to tend to Chrysa's wounds. He gives her a nudge in the process of healing her "Well, seems like your jaded past will come in handy helping us with information on our foes." With a smile he continues "Not to worry on the scratches though, my magic touch will get you feeling better."
After he tends to the wounds he steps back to give her some room as she starts shooting off questions and waits for answers.
”Keeping is safe?” Oleg asks incredulously. ’Hell no they ain’t keeping us safe! They’re demanding tribute for their own lord down south somewhere! First time they came some b%~#$ with a pair o’ axes ran the show, threatened to cut my hand off! Since then, that bloke with the bow has done the dirty work. And most of ‘em are wearin’ a silver necklace of a buck. Some sort of sigil of some ‘Stag Lord.’”
Sbetlana places a reassuring hand on her husband’s shoulder. ”Are you really here to help?” she asks.
Orri nods "Yes, for the time being we've been sent to provide aid until such time as proper reinforcement's can arrive. Is there anything more you can tell us of these bandits? How often do they come, do you have any idea on their base of operations?"
Chyrsa forces herself not to sigh at the man's misunderstanding. Going to her mule, she'll retrieve the charter, unrolls it and shows it to the woman as Orri starts asking the necessary questions. "The Swordlords sent us, and wish to help so they sent us."
”Interesting.” Sophie doesn’t share too much about her past, except where asked directly, in which case she will be honest but vague.
Sophie adds, ”yes, we will try to get to the root of the problem. This bandit leader, whatever you can tell us about their hangers on would be helpful. Specifically, did any of their group appear less enthusiastic about doing the shakedowns? We may be able to contact them first and get some allies. Leaders like this rarely inspire much loyalty, usually through fear. They do sound well organized though, I’d love to know if they have any checkpoints or outposts outside of their main lair.”
”Ain’t nobody hunted the lands to the south in months. And it’s gettin’ worse. That b~~!! whose been shakin’ me down is holed up nearby according to the hunters. Somewhere in the Narlmarch. Don’t know nothin’ about the rest of ‘em.”
Orri looks to the others and then to Oleg as he asks to no one in particular ”So should we go looking for them or wait for them to come back here?”
"Does anyone know how to track? If so looking will be easy, otherwise, it might be better to wait."
”I can, if you think it would help. I am not an expert but if the trail isn’t too old, I might pick something up.” Sophie nods at Chrysa.
"I can help with tracking as well." Orri chimes in.
Chrysa thinks "We should go after them." she states with confidence.
"The reasons are... One - they wouldn't expect it. We don't smell of guardsmen, don't all dress the same like soldiers, have all our teeth so not bounty hunters, and no one in the broken lands think people that just want to help Exist. Well at least helping that involves you going out of your way to maybe die."
"Two - we should get them before they have a chance to report. This stag lord doesn't need to know we're coming. Yet."
"Three - if we wait til they come back, they'll scout first. If we don't hide enough that they think we are gone, they will get others. Bandits are not the brave types. We were even numbers for this one. We will not be if they come back. Their camp might not have the numbers they want, so they'd team up with other crews until they have enough to feel brave again."
Chrysa would rather wait a bit a ways from the Post, let the bandits break in ravage the place, and once they are fat, drunk, and busy tear in and cut them down (saving one or two for interrogations of course). But the others don't seem the sort to sacrifice the man and his wife, so she keeps her mouth shut on that one. Also having a trading post out here where they can get supplies seems useful.
"Anyone else think one way or another?"
"They need to be dealt with swiftly. We must protect these people and this trading post from these thieves. I have little skill in tracking, but I can help deal justice."
Bella nods and agrees. "Good enough for me. This more or less falls into what we are supposed to be doing anyway. I'm not sure how much I will be tracking, but I'll be there to lend my blade should it be needed."
”Orri, if you would be so kind as to assist me, it would be appreciated.” She flashes a smile in his direction, and then gets to work trying to track down where they came from.
