Augar chuckles."Ordrud, you my boy will need to taste some of the oldest ales we dwarves have to offer at some point. Might just lay ye low f'r once"
Sharee puts her hand atop the half-orc's massive paw. "I guess this is where I say, 'You have my bow.'"
An' the necromancer says 'You have your dead brother', chortles one of the dwarves, the joker from earlier.
Again the dwarves laugh.
Jus' fer tha', says Grimmvat sternly, Ye kin drive th' other wagon Angus Kneesplitter... ruined a solemn moment wit' a cheap gag.
The leader of the dwarves looks at you all.
The deal is made... have another drink. See you then an hour after dawn at the main gate.
Just as before, Vothe takes notes over the course of half a page. Finally finished taking notes, he drinks about half the tankard, looks around, and then finishes it.
Augar chuckles at the joke, the comradery they shared, his kin shared were infectious. He missed it, but he also was pleased with his new friends.
"You don't have t' tell me twice" He says taking the brew saluting his kin and kisses the rim before he consumes it.
The next day starts as planned.
You edge to the gates unobtrusively to see Snorri and Angus roll out, both without issues. You wait a few minutes then leave to catch up with the wagons, again, with no problem at all.
Snorri and Angus are happy to let you either take your turns sitting on the wagons or walking alongside them. Both are pleasant enough companions... even their campsite cooking is good.
You meet with the other wagons around two days down the road and off on a track and the exchange is done. You camp the night and set out the next day, wagons laden with Dwarven foodstuffs, masonry supplies and most importantly, beer.
Trouble finds you late afternoon as a pair of bowmen emerge from the foliage well ahead caravan, two more bowmen emerging from your rear and six more stepping onto the road to your side.
Off the wagons you stunty freaks - these wagons are ours now. Don't make us kill you... in fact? You know what? I don't care either way!
"Well, this has been a nice trip!" said Vothe as he finished making notes near the fire. He stored his writing implements and looked up at the stars.
To no one in particular, he said "This reminds me of the vault..."
"Well, this has been a nice trip!" said Vothe as he finished making notes near the fire. He stored his writing implements and looked up at the stars.
To no one in particular, he said "This reminds me of the vault..."
Ordrud shouts like a kid who gets to open his birthday gifts and charges the speaker, or another soon-to-be-dead brigand, if the speaker is not within thirty feet of Ordrud's starting position.
In an amazing maneuver that you have seen before (worthy of a god), he reaches back and starts swinging his greataxe without actually having the greataxe in his hands. Then, just before it connects with the victim, the greataxe flies into his grip without losing any momentum. Spectacular!
Watching Ordrud go in one direction, Vothe shouted "I'll get the six over here!" and moved towards the group at the sides of the wagon, drawing his pure silver blade as he went. Once in combat, he wasted no time delivering justice. He intoned a quick prayer to Sarathiel, the Solar that his family had made a pact with generations ago, and his blade began to glow with power.
"Poor Decisions, May The good lords take thee and judge thee" he says as he leaps from the cart, and draws his hammer.
When he gets close he points the hammer at the leader and utters a sharp yet heavenly word, accented with righteous clangs of a divine hammer to strike.Sparks form and flame erupts on the leader.
Marcus quickly settles into the routine of the trip. He reminisces about some of the caravans he was a part of, sharing various stories to whomever will listen.
On the way back, he takes a seat next to Snorri and starts up a conversation about the possibility to bring in more shipments of beer. "As you know, with this silly tax, it is in very high demand," he is saying as the brigands appear. "See what I mean," he whispers before standing up. Seeing the pair in front and the group to the side being engaged, he turns and fires an arrow at one to the rear.
Sharee says nothing, merely rolls her eyes and looses an arrow at one of the bandits to the rear. As she does so, she gives a command in Elvish and her panther moves to attack her target as well.
If the attack hits, the target must make a DC 12 Strength save or be knocked prone and give the panther a bite attack.
Ordrud rapidly closes with a bandit, his sword materialising in his hand even as he starts swinging the blow that has the bandit leader reeling [target is not yet bloodied]
Then the leader yells as heavenly flames roast him at Augars bidding... [NOW bloodied]
Vothe charges into the same group, his blade smoking with heat as he rams it deep into his chosen foe. [target is well and truly bloodied]
Marcus shoots true at the bandit archer but fails to kill his target [I'll throw in the sneak attack, target is bloodied]
Sharee displays the legendary archery of the elves... almost nonchalantly landing a solid shot to her targets chest, leaving the bandit too distracted by the arrow in his lung to notice the black cat leaping on him. His wheezing screams turn to a death rattle as the panther sinks his jaws in the now ex archers throat while the predators rear legs rake and tear out his insides.
-Bandits-
Leader up but bloodied
2 bloodied
1 dead
They respond the violence.
The leader snarls and swings at the half orc raider
for damage.
Two of his allies move to attack Ordrud with hand axes
for damage.
for damage.
The other three attack Vothe...
for damage.
for damage.
for damage.
The remaining archer shoots at the cat that just tore his friend up [saying they were far enough apart to avoid disadvantage]
for damage.
[note that I did not use the +1 flanking bonus... let's call them a rabble.]
Party up!
Sharee spins and puts an arrow into the one that attacked her panther, then commands the cat to attack him as well.
Seeing Sharee and her panther take care of the last bandit behind them, Marcus drops his bow. "Duck, he tells Snorri before stepping on the dwarf's back and jumping off the wagon. Drawing his rapier while in the air, he lands and does a shoulder roll putting himself in position to attack one of the bandits trying to surround Vothe.
Vothe grunts as the third hit lands; he had managed to parry the first two, but his blade was just a breath short of the third one.
Vothe looked around and realized that he was about to be surrounded. Opting to protect himself instead of attacking. Again, he intoned a litany of phrases to shift his body away from his visage; it would make striking him with a blade particularly difficult.
Vothe turned his attention to the man who had struck him, calling on his pact to grant him the ability to see the man's aura. It would make him considerably easier to hit.
Ordrud shouts gleefully.
The large half-orc carries the momentum of the greataxe and spins full circle for another attempt at the scrawny neck holding attaching the leader's head.
Augar Strides forward and strikes at the nearest enemy with his hammer
With a mighty swing, the leaders head is hewn from his shoulders.
Marcus pulls off an amazing feat of acrobatics to surprise a bandit and lands a few rapid thrusts that drop his target and leaves him on the ground in a growing puddle of blood.
Sharee plants an arrow in a bandits eye, who is dead even before the panther starts ripping him apart...
Augar feints a blow and then finds it difficult to recover enough to land a hit while Vothe calls on defensive Magic's.
With their leader gone and half their number dead in seconds, the remaining bandits break and run as Snorri and Angus both cheer your performance and mock the villains cowardice.
-Combat Over-
Ordrud shouts gleefully.
Vothe simply shrugs then cleans his blade and resheathes it before returning to the group.
"Nicely done friends." he says.
"nicely done my arse!!" Augar huffs as he puts away his weapons and looks at the others."I Had 'em, dead t'rights had 'em but no me Hammer swing was too much and went wide, twas like seeing a dwarfling with just whisps trying t' hit them, practice dummies!"
You search over the bodies but find little of worth...
Snorri grunts. Not sure on these other bastards but this one here seems to be one of friends of the Ducal guard - we all called him 'Loud Mouth'... Grimvatt is gonna want to know about this.
We've been seeing a lot of 'attention' from the guards lately, particularly when a mob of locals give us some grief. A bit of harassment you see.
The dwarf kicks some dirt over the bodies.
That should do for a burial, what say you?
You push on for another few hours where you set up camp and prepare to rest before returning to Rhoona tomorrow.
Sharee collects her arrows (those she can). When it comes time to stop for the night, she goes about helping to set up the camp quietly, then selects as spot not far from the fire.
Marcus watches the rest of the bandits run away, a look of disappointment coming across his face. "Seems we were a little too efficient. I was hoping to capture one of them to see if they are working for someone," he says as he leans down to wipe his rapier clean on the shirt of the bandit laying at his feet.
His mood improves when Snorri recognizes the leader. "Hmm, I wonder how far up the chain of command this goes. This could just be some lowly guards trying to shake down merchants for some extra coin. But they say that the Duke respects Stormsailer highly. Maybe the whole silliness of these laws is part of some bigger plot by the Ducal Guard leader," he muses.
Ordrud strips the bodies and throws the armor and weapons of the bandits, such as they are, in a wagon. He magically cleans that ichor off his body, after kicking some dirt over the bodies.
At camp after his share of the routine, he pulls out the weapons and armor of the bandits and spends his watch time Mending and magically cleaning them. "You get more coin when they look well-cared for. And, they're usually unrecognizable to friends of their former owners, unless you kill a clean freak."
"We mauled these soldiers once. It was hell to sell their gear, because they always kept it so clean and tight. Until I figured that I had dirty it up and add some colors to sell it. Good coin that was, too." He tells the dwarves when they inquire what he is doing.
Vothe will pitch in and help Ordrud with "newing" up the bandit's gear.
Ordrud can probably get 5 gold coins for the lot. It's crappy even after additional effort on his part.
Not a lot that can be recalled from memory... maybe because you are newish in town.
The night passes calmly and in the dawn you are trundling along the road to Rhoona. Before long Snorri and Angus drive the wagons back to Rhoona with no incidents this time.
The wagon driven by Angus (the resident joker among the dwarves) is first to reach the gates.
What have you got there dwarf?, one of the guards asks.
Naught but a wagon load of beer and some tools, he replies.
Beer eh? Very well, there is a 10% import tax.
Angus looks somewhat peeved but grudgingly asks Oh aye? Then how much gold will that be?
No coin, replies the guard, holding up a large bucket. We'll take 10% of each barrel - Dukes rule.
Don't be daft man! Opening all my barrels will spoil the lot. Why can't I just pay in coin?
Its either paid properly, the guard says again waving the bucket, or you can turn your wagon around and go the way you came.
"I wonder what the Duke will say about you refusing Dwarves the right to bring in beer. For that matter, I wonder what the Dwarves who would normally trade with the city would think about you refusing to trade fairly with other Dwarves." Vothe sighed and said "It was really such a nice town." He then turned to Angus, winked, and added "Do you think it's the Dwarves not trading, at all, with the town that will do it in first, or the city populous when they discover that no one is bringing in any beer anymore because the guards are forcing people to waste it?"
Vothe turned back to the guard who was speaking and said "I'd hate to be in the shoes of the person who wouldn't just take a few of kegs, but instead turned away beer because of a stupid law."
--At night--
Augar will use the divine gifts of mending to help mend the gear once cleaned.
--At the Gate--
Augar nearly falls over at the thought of them taking the beer. Are they daft, its beer and to take actual beer instead of coin? They were clearly mad!!
"Taxes. Legal robbery. That's why, one day, I'm going to be a duke." The large half-orc interjects.
"Dwarves, give the guards one out of ten of your barrels, and let's get going. I've no desire to kill these men today."
"And, I'm thirsty, too. You'll have nine out of ten barrels to sate my thirst, as agreed." His casual threats of murdering the guards pass by.
"Oh my, it's gotten even worse," Marcus thinks, rolling his eyes at the request. He pauses to see how the guards react.
These are not guards, they are common highwaymen, Sharee thinks to herself. She keeps quiet, however, not wanting an altercation.
The guard is taken aback by the skillful words and its underlying threat of screwing up BADLY, not just on a personal level but at a city wide level. In the grand tradition of the enlisted grunt throughout the ages they hold the wagon to hold a hushed and anxious conference while another guard runs off for their superior.
Nice one lad, Angus says. That stuffed em'... That's a powerful threat.
In a few minutes a rather pissed off viking figure comes storming out of the city with another pair of guards.
Interestingly a mail clad figure in a rich cloak strolls along behind them, a bemused expression on his bearded face. He looks curious but supremely confident. Heedless of his fine clothes he leans against the gate to watch the engagement even as the Viking starts screaming.
Who do you think you are?! EVERYBODY pays the Dukes Taxes...EVERYONE!!! What's this about you stunty bastards not wanting to pay the Dukes Tax!?
What's more interesting is the way the gate guards suddenly become a lot more attentive.
Ordrud shrugs with a look of I told you so.
Mirroring the rich cloak figure, the large half orc leans against a wagon, which significantly strains the structure.
His facial expression shifts into concentration as he obviously starts counting guards and sizing up how best to kill them all.
There's four guards who look like they're assigned here... not counting ones in the nearby gate towers, then there's the Viking style leader and his two friends, who have a definite "hard" feel to them... maybe it's the way they move, maybe it's the scars or maybe the way they don't seem even a little nervous.
The man leaning against the gate? He's a bit of a mystery but he seems very confident.
"Who said we wouldn't pay taxes? I was just pointing out that asking merchants to waste beer to pay the taxes is not going to keep trade going in your fair city for very long. Just as Dukes like to lead and soldiers soldier, merchants live by buying and selling goods."
Vothe shrugged, almost non-chalantly and said "It seems to me that, as your guard here pointed out, since you want to waste our product, we can turn around and head somewhere else. If we were to happen to mention that the tax here requires one to waste all beer coming into the city, and beer is the only tax on goods allowed....well, I'm assuming that a smart man such as yourself can put two and two together."
Vothe turned to Angus and said "Okay, let's turn back around and head back out." Nonchalantly to the assembled people at the gate, he finished with "Thank you for your time, and have a lovely day!"
Sharee watches the proceedings with a practiced eye. She has not bared arms (yet) but is expecting trouble.
Ere'? We're turnin' aboot? Feck tha'! Tha's nae part o' th' deal!, Angus splutters.
Hey, Captain, th' longshanks ere? Blood ain't reachin' 'is brain, ye ken?, says the dwarf, folding like a cheap suit and a bad poker hand. Look, we've eighteen barrels in all. How about we jus' gie ye two barrels?, he says somewhat apologetically as Snorri barks at him in dwarvish.
The leader of the guards looks somewhat mollified by the dwarfs compliance, but still blusters.
Right! Unload the wagons!
Then there is a clearing of the throat that is both quiet but at the same time cuts through the temporary quiet in the lull of conversation.
All the guardsmen turn to look at the man leaning against the gate. He merely shakes his head ever so slightly. The blustering leader has the wind sucked out of his sails and he turns to the dwarves and snaps No! Ten percent from each barrel! We're honest men here - we take the Dukes due, no more, no less!
He motions roughly at the gate guards.
Strangely enough the guards do not drink the beer as they dip their own buckets into each keg, they treat it as if it was as precious as coin, carefully removing it by the bucket and pouring it into a few nearby barrels of their own.
A nearby merchant, seeing the dwarves have beer and wanting to get his own goods into town makes some frantic efforts to buy the beer from Snorri. A deal is struck for a handsomely sized pouch and one of the open barrels are handed over to the merchant who starts paying off his own toll.
Quietly, Vothe says to Angus "Sorry, I tried. Clearly these people are insane."
"Its math, plain and simple math. Look can you reseal these barrels after you take the beer? Can you guarantee that these goods once taken will not spoil? I understand the need to due your duty its commendable. However, as beer can spoil when not properly sealed, can you guarantee our goods will not spoil due to your opening each container. So If you insist on doing this I insist you provide us new barrels and a cooper to properly reseal the barrels. If not then two barrels will equal the amount that you require. It's a logical coarse one that will allow for our beer to be taken and keep its current freshness. Otherwise, you seem to want to waste what I see is a very valuable commodity. Tell me good Captain do you know how to make beer? Do you know what happens to beer when it is left out? Do you know how easy it is to make beer? Would you like to know how?" he says looking at this Captain trying to get them to realize the idiocy of what they want as well as the necessary things needed to retain the freshness of the beer.
Ordrud shakes his head at the entertain fairly certain he will kill most of the guards later. Predators cannot live together.
"Its math, plain and simple math. Look can you reseal these barrels after you take the beer? Can you guarantee that these goods once taken will not spoil? I understand the need to due your duty its commendable. However, as beer can spoil when not properly sealed, can you guarantee our goods will not spoil due to your opening each container. So If you insist on doing this I insist you provide us new barrels and a cooper to properly reseal the barrels. If not then two barrels will equal the amount that you require. It's a logical coarse one that will allow for our beer to be taken and keep its current freshness. Otherwise, you seem to want to waste what I see is a very valuable commodity. Tell me good Captain do you know how to make beer? Do you know what happens to beer when it is left out? Do you know how easy it is to make beer? Would you like to know how?" he says looking at this Captain trying to get them to realize the idiocy of what they want as well as the necessary things needed to retain the freshness of the beer.
While the priests words make sense to anyone, especially the people local to the area who know the art of brewing it gains no traction at all with the guards.
You'll get no such from us! Such is the law - and your dwarf laws don't apply HERE!, the guards commander says gleefully, punctuating the end of his declaration with a shout.
Another four guards come running to the gate, likely summoned earlier but having needed time to arrive.
It's clear that things are not going the dwarves way and are likely not going to improve.
The well dressed warrior leaning against the gate listens stony faced as Augar makes his demand but does not move, nor intervene.
As the new guards arrive, he gives a satisfied nod and walks back into Rhoona itself.
Awww, feck ut', ye tried... we'll jus' have t' drink ut up quicker , Angus says, clearly resigned to this ill turn of luck.
Marcus watches the situation carefully. At first he's disappointed that Angus would give up so easily but then is pleased to hear the guards are willing to take 2 full barrels. When the leader changes his mind he loses it.
"What? You must be kidding me. That makes no sense at all. You were on your way to making a good business decision and then what happened?" he asks the guard.
He then turns his attention to the man in the cloak. "You seem to be someone of importance. Who are you?" he says, taking a deep breath to calm himself down before he says too much.
The man stops. He then turns slightly as he is walking away and smiles...
Who am I? Why, I am Draco Stormsailer boy. I've killed for less in my time but I'm told I am mellowing in my old age. Fortunate, right? The Duke, he says with a sour inflection, is somewhat... modern... in his sensibilities. Myself? I miss the days of trial by combat or just out and out killing troublemakers.
He starts walking again.
I've already arranged some additional guards to smooth over this little incident. I'd be careful to avoid angering them... I brought them into the guard because they are the sort of men who enjoy the old ways, he calls out over one shoulder.
Ordrud toothily smiles confirming that he will probably kill that Draco Stormsailer one day and many of his additional guards. Because the large half-orc too enjoys the old ways.