Kingmaker

Game Master Rackal28

The man shrinks from Brental's baleful gaze at first then sneers back at him standing tall in what he assumes to be his final moments. "Wedding ring? No, we don't have that here... I already gave it to your mother."

Brental raises one eyebrow at the crude defiance and then turns his back to the man and walks a few paces away.
"Well then, you've been helpful. I have no further questions."

He glances briefly between Signy and Lorna before resting his gaze on Meneas. Between the four of them, Brental had the most confidence that the hooded knight would be able to quickly bring an end to the bandit without any further risk, otherwise he would do it himself. And he thinks Meneas knows it, too. With the shape Signy and Lorna are in, he doesn't think they will mind much either. But if they want to be privy to these conversations in the future, Brental would be happy to teach them the fey's tongue.

"Dali sakate da go ostavite da trča, ili samo da go ubiete tamu kade što stoi?"

Meneas tilts his head at Brental, waving one hand while the other taps his sword's hilt.

The empty darkness of his hood turns back to the bandit.

Gotta admit, if I thought the players would be fine with it, I'd have Meneas kill him without consulting the party.

"Se soglasuvam. Napravete go toa brzo, ako možete."

Signy mentioned IC that she was feeling less altruistic. But I say, go for it and let the chips fall where they may!

Meneas nods grimly, drawing his sword swiftly and slashing at the bandit with a lethal ferocity. "You are no longer necessary." He says bluntly.

Coup de Grace, if applicable: 2d8 + 6 ⇒ (2, 7) + 6 = 15
That's a DC 25 Fort save to survive, if he survives the damage itself.

The man's throat is opened by Meneas'sharp blade and with a spray of gore the man hits the floor and lies still. Only the sound of the birds in the trees intrupt the next few moments of silence as the only living that remain in the camp are now the adventuring party themselves.

Despite the gruesomeness, Brental breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank you," he offers. "I hope you two don't mind," he says looking at Lorna and Signy. "Meneas and I were discussing what to do and determined he was too dangerous to let go. I did not want to presume, but--" He trails off. "We can bury them or string them up as a warning to others."

Brental sits on a nearby tree stump, scratching behind one of Vodnykel's large ears as he gingerly steps over.

"I'd like to keep looking around the camp in case there is anything else to turn up. And then...rest. My magicks are exhausted for the day, and resting seems our best bet so long as we have a reasonable watch. In the morning I will commune for healing to ensure that we can recuperate from our wounds. We have a plethora of potions and Wisp's wand as well."

Looking a bit more hopeful, Brental then perks up. "We can head back to Oleg and Svetlana as well. They might like to know that their problem has been taken care of for the time being. After that, I'd like to find the local mite tribe. Help get Lana's wedding band back. We can look for moon radishes along the way. But that's a lot to do, and I am weary from...this."

Perception around the camp: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21

Full bed rest, maybe? Do you want to play HD in recovery, or HD+Con? Double for full bed rest?

Meneas sighs as the last bandit falls, before wiping his blade on the man's clothes, sheathing it at his hip once more. Relaxing for the first time since arriving at Oleg's, he grunts in sudden pain as the weight of his wounds catch up to him all at once. "Ghhh..."

He sags momentarily in the saddle, before slowly swinging down and landing heavily on the ground. "The most immediate threat to the Trading Post has been dealt with, yes. We should see whether he was lying or mistaken about the ring, too." A gloved hand moves into his hood, rubbing his face.

"As for our next steps, I'm wholeheartedly in favor of discussing them further when we're not all beaten to Hell and back." He pauses. "If anyone here has more knowledge of medicine than me - that is, well, any - I'd really like it if you'd get this damn arrow out of my shoulder."

Upon looking around the camp Brental does find a tarp over a buldge in the broken down cart that looks promising but, after closer inspection, finds that it was just a trap for the overly greeedy. An armed bear trap lies just beneath the tarp and there is nothing else of value there.

Lorna slowly shakes her head looking extremely pale. "What has been done has been done and I understand why you felt it was necessary. I feel we should curb any needless killing, however, should we end up no better than our foes. As for rest, I could certainly use as much as we can get. My ability... it drains me quite severely."

We can do HD + Con with double the HD for full bedrest though one cannot do full bedrest and be on watch at the same time.

Brental grabs a piece of firewood from the bandit's smoldering breakfast fire and triggers the bear trap to splinter the wood instead of one of their limbs. Satisfied, he begins moving the sprung trap to the growing pile containing the rest of their spoils.

"I took no pleasure in this," Brental says with a nod to Lorna. "On the one hand, we have a charter imploring us to do just as we have done. That grants us a matter of legitimacy that our foes lack. But your point is well-taken. Mercy is a respectable goal, but not something to be doled out heedlessly. We have come to a area gone out of order. The reckless actions of this Stag Lord and his ilk have infected these lands, injuring many innocents traveling through. To correct this imbalance, we have many tools at our disposal. The sword, the shield, the hammer, the olive branch. Over-reliance on one to the detriment of the others is likely to lead to further imbalance."

Brental looks curiously at Lorna for the moment. It was true: whatever affected Lorna afflicted her as well. Brental did not want to pry, but he had stood alongside this phantom of Lorna's and seen its malice. What was it? And why did it harm Lorna?

The Aasimar retrieves some vials from his pack and counts them out. "We have three curative potion and a wand that is about one-quarter charged. I am less familiar with mundane healing than some of my brethren, but I can set up a ward for us back at the cave and do what I can to provide for us. Remove arrowheads and bandage us with makeshift poultices. It should not be difficult to forage for a few supplies that will do for our purposes. But let's start taking all this back to the cave."

Brental's plan is to use his measly +3 Heal skill to attempt the DC 15 Heal check for Long-term care to try to restore 2 HP to Meneas, Signy, Vodnykel, and Lorna. Those 8 hours should take us to late afternoon (4pm). He can try again for another 8 hours after that, up until going to sleep at midnight.

Do you want a Heal check for each character he's treating, or just one per 8 hour period? And do you want a Survival check to look for appropriate materials to use?

I'd like just one heal check per 8 hour period to keep things simple. And you won't be needing to do a survival check for this basic care.

Signy doesn't follow what's said after Brental and Meneas switch languages. But she's smart enough to figure if they're changing over to a less understood way to confer with each other, they're not planning a picnic for the guy.

She shrugs to herself and goes to help Lorna into the camp, then begins to poke around here and there while they conduct their business. She figures they won't be traveling that day since nobody's looking good, so she begins gathering things to make the place comfortable for a short stay and stokes up the fire so it doesn't go out.

Heal, morning to afternoon, long term care DC 15: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18
Heal, afternoon to evening, long term care DC 15: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5

I'll get some description up later, but here's this to keep us moving.

The day progresses quietly from here with Brental caring for the injured party members as they are all heavily wounded and in no shape to continue on their way. Where they go next is up to them but for now they lick their wounds and ready themselves for the next fight.

That's one success and one failure. Everyone may now roll for healing as described above. Also, congrats everyone it's time to LEVEL UP!!!! Then decide where you're headed next xP

Brental quickly gathers some supplies to manage his makeshift ward in the nearby cave and then begins his day-long vigil. Early on he manages to remove the arrows from Signy, Meneas, and Vodnykel without causing further damage. He patches the wounds up so that they will not become infected, and instructs everyone to rest. The less activity, the better. He also brews some kind of herbal drink for everyone intended to restore vitality. He pays special attention to Lorna, who has no apparent physical injury but looks nonetheless drained.

By the time the late afternoon rolls into evening, Brental looks fatigued. Attending to the others' wounds without addressing his own has clearly taken a lot out of him. After trying to help them for a few hours to no further avail, he shows signs of frustration.
"I'm sorry. This is not my usual area."

I think others can do light activity? Otherwise, we might as well do any healing we want before setting a watch. It's also possible that everyone else slept during the day, and now Brental can chill without a watch. Be out of sync for a bit, but not too bad. Heal up y'all! Also, hurray Level 2!

Thanks, Brental. It's good enough for me." Meneas pulls back his hood. "We should get rid of the bodies - or at least gather them all up. Animals might come looking, and we're wounded enough that they might see us as prey rather than potential threats." His face has a slight sheen of sweat, even with the treatment that he's received.

"I'm glad that you all seem to be doing better! As for the bodies, I have a shovel if we would like to bury them. Burying nine bodies will take time, but it would be good to return them to the ground. A shallow grave should do for our purposes, at least. A pyre is another option, but one I'm less prone to. I met a gravedigger last I was Ustalav who said he could dig a grave by himself in an hour. Of course he was burying people in coffins bigger than the person, and six feet down. If you sort of rush it, you could probably dig a shallow grave in about 10 minutes?"

Canon shovel says you can dig at 2 cubic feet/minute. A 2.5x8x6 international standard grave is 120 cubic feet, so 60 minutes. A 1.5x6x2 shallow grave is 18 cubic feet, so 9 minutes.

Despite the morbidity of the conversation, Brental seems unphased. Death is part of the natural cycle of the world, and there are many creatures of the forest, including the bugs and fungi inhabiting the soil, who would be happy for such a meal. Brental goes to grab his shovel and starts digging (assuming no one stops him, though he invites aid if anyone is willing to rotate shifts or use a makeshift tool to speed the work along). He also looks for some small stones that he can use to mark the graves.

As he finishes preparing each shallow grave, he gently places the bodies of their fallen foes in and piles the soil back on top of them. He takes nearly three dozen hefty stones and places them in a circle. Finally, he walks into the center, where he places the largest stone he has found, and he speaks.
"Our mortal lives are brief. Each person must live according to the ways they believe are best. Yet in the end, we all return to dust. So so it has always been, and so it will be until this planet too crumbles to dust. May you find your rest."

Brental kneels down to the central stone and reaches out a hand. There springs a bright flame that washes over the crown of the stone.

All in time the sun rises then sinks and raises yet again as Brental makes himself very, very busy for such an injured man tending to all those injured in the vicious fighting the day before. When the sun rises again he makes quick work digging shallow graves for all the bandits they had ruthlessly slaughtered the day before, som already having been picked at by the carrion birds and rats dwelling within the forest. Fortunately nothing more deadly made an attempt on the party that night or they may have proven an easy meal in their sorry state.

Regardless, the party now has their packs stuffed with loot and their job one big step closer to completion and as the birds chirp around them only the road remains.

Decision time! Where are we going? Back to Oleg's? Looking for the Moonlight Radishes? Or after the mites?

Signy help Brental as well as she can on her wounded leg, which is probably less than he would prefer. Later on in the day she takes one of the bottles from the Stag King's liquor shipment and samples its quality, several times.

"We might as well go back to Oleg's to sell this stuff and see how things are working out with Vlad. We could try to get the radishes on the way back so we can leave them as well."

After a bit of preparation, Brental expends all of his daily magic to heal the party more.

Cure Light Wounds, Brental: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4 (was 13/17)
Cure Light Wounds, Meneas: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6 (was 15/20)
Cure Light Wounds, Vodnykel: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10 (was 13/21)

Nice.

"Yes, lets begin to make our way back to Oleg and Svetlana. I would be happy to look for the radishes as we make our way."

I think that's the general consensus. What rolls do you want?

Meneas nods, pulling his hood up once more. "It's not a bad idea. We can rest, arm them, and so on." He turns to Brental. "Thanks, friend."

As the group head out, once more, into the wilds they take care to travel with an open eye and a keen ear.

Taken care of~

At a certain point during their travel, Signy's extra sensitive eyes notice something odd.

"Hey, do any of the rest of you see what I'm seeing? There's a strange moon-like glow coming from somewhere deep in the forest."

Survival: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

Linguistics: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7

I'll just start with one check. If we can do more than one, then I'll add some more later. But we'll start with...

Profession (cartographer): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23

Now that he is feeling better and less focused on correcting the most local menace, Brental pulls out his mapmaking kit and begins carefully sketching the area as they travel, thinking that it could both useful and potentially even a source of funding. As it was also part of their charter, it seems a particularly helpful course of action.

As Signy points out the glow, he pauses after finishing a bit of careful shading.
"Do you suppose the glowing is related to the moonlight radishes?"

Brental considers. "We could take a brief diversion to look for the radishes. I don't suppose we'll be able to find them just growing by the side of the road. Is it worth the danger?"

Signy looks thoughtful for a moment.

"But radishes grow underground right? So why would they glow above ground?"

Then she tosses the notion aside.

"Sure! We did promise after all."

Survival: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18 20 if on a road.

"Careful. There's some reptilian footprints leading in that direction. Probably more than a handful of walkers, at that." Meneas says softly. "Didn't Oleg and Svetlana mention something about kobolds?" He lays a gloved hand on Veil's neck. "It could be that they're around here. If they are, they're probably the ones who pulled out the radishes... Assuming radishes, even moonlight ones, glow."

He chuckles dryly. "Which they could. You never know what the First World might do to nature in the vicinity."

Having acquired all the information they require the party is able to follow the trail of reptilian tracks the a small open clearing upon which are a small field of vegetables. Amidst these vegetables are four extremely fat kobolds lying around asleep in an apparent food coma from consuming so many of the glistening vegetables which lay all around them. From the radiant glow of these unearthed vegetables its easy to guess that these are fabled moonlight radishes which Svetlana referenced in her request.

Signy pauses to watch the kobolds for a moment, deciding what to do. While she does take her bow in hand, Signy decides to keep things light and friendly unless they won't cooperate. She clears her voice loudly.

"Good day my fine kobolds. Don't mind us, we're just here to collect some of these radishes. Then we'll be on our way."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22

The kobolds, which had all been fast asleep until this point, all spring, or rather amble awkwardly, to their feet clutching their spears at the sudden announcement from Signy. Each reptile with a shade or sooty grey scales point their weapons warningly at the approaching party members and glance about cautiously, yipping nervously at one another before one finally speaks up.

"These root-fruit belong to Soot-Scale Tribe man-things! No can take-steal only trade-barter yes-yes? What have you give-offer for delicious root-fruit?"

Signy squints in suspicion at the kobolds.

"Did you plant them?"

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13

The kobold scratches the back of it's scaly head with the tail end of its spear as if confused by the concept of planting anything. "No-no stupid man-things not get it errrmmmm! No pllllaaaannnntttt Soot-Scale own this root-fruit patch 'cause we claim-take it first yes-yes!"

With this emphatic statement the kobold plants the butt of his spear in the soft earth and proudly clasps his fist to his little chest with much yipping and barking of agreement from the surrounding kobolds.

Brental is surprised that Signy goes about waking the kobolds up, but is glad to not bring on unnecessary anger from the sleeping dragonfolk. And they seem keen on trading, at least those of the Soot-Scale Tribe do. Bartering may very well be a point of pride with these kobolds.

"Signy, if I may for a moment?" He steps forward and bows his head deferentially before his voice takes on a throaty, imperative tone.

"Voghjuynner, im vishap ynkerner: Im anunn e Brental. Dzer yndhanur lezun lavn e, bayts yes karogh yem t’argmanel dzez hamar, yete nakhyntrum yek dzer mayreni khosky. Menk urakh yenk dzez het arrevtur anel armatayin ptghi hamar. Inch e dzez harkavor?"

Thinking of what he remembers about kobolds and their predilection for traps, he reaches into their recent loot and pulls out the bear trap.
"Have you been having trouble keeping people away from your root-fruit patch? This trap can clamp around a thief's leg and keep them from getting away. It could help you guard this place without always needing to be here. Is this something you would be interested in?"

Could I get a diplomacy check with a +2 advantage for using a trap as part of your deal.

The kobolds lean in excitedly at seeing the brand new trap before them but before any of the others can touch it the lead kobold slaps their claws away with his spear and grimaces at the device as though in deep consideration.

"Hmmm, shiny man-thing make decent trade-barter yes-yes could, maaaaybe get one root-fruit for trap-thing. Helps that shiny man-thing speak proper-good yes-yes."

Diplomacy Barter Check: 1d20 ⇒ 17

Meneas watches curiously as his companions and the kobolds negotiate. Soot-Scale, huh...? Something to keep in mind, I suppose, as we go about exploring this area.

Still here, but Meneas doesn't have much to say yet.

A diplomacy roll from Brental, or anyone? Assuming the latter...

Signy uses Brental as a translator to convey that a trade for the radishes is fine and good, it's one of the ways friendships are made. But, the trap is certainly worth more than one radish, and in any case they will much more because the radishes are for a stew a friend of theirs will make.

She does also offer to get the recipe for the stew from their friend and give it to them if they like the radishes so much and want some variety.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24

The kobolds jump up and down and all around excitedly as they shake on the deal for the bear trap, taking it into their possession in exchange for a whole basket of the moonlight radishes which continue to glow with the subtle pale light of the moon.

"Yes-yes this most good trade-barter man-things! When make food-snack come back this-this place man-thing food always so tasty! Then we lead-take you to Soot-Scale chief! May need man-thing help for war-battle against ugly mite-things! Not go so well. Many proud kobold sleep-die for Old Sharptooth. Hard to kill-die mite-things, our spear-sticks no work so good... Can offer you much treasure-gold in exchange!"

"Old Sharptooth?" Meneas asks the kobolds, speaking to them for the first time. Before they answer fully, he looks to his companions. "It sounds like the mites ought to be our next destination, no?"

Brental smiles broadly as Signy closes the deal. Teamwork--knowing the right things about kobold's desires (traps and food), knowing their language, and having the right rhetoric--made all the difference! Svetlana would be pleased!

The news that the mites had been a pain to both the bandits and the kobolds comes as little surprise either. He makes a careful point not to slip into Sylvan to commune with Meneas, just in case the kobolds recognize the tongue and get agitated.

"I suspected as much that there may be some kind of conflict between tribes in this area. Why are you at war?"

Brental nods at Meneas in agreement. They now had at least two distinct reasons for going to find the mites. Hopefully this could be resolved peacefully, as they had done with the Soot Scale tribe, but that would remain to be seen.

The scaly creature nods rapidly at Brental and Meneas' questioning as the rest of the kobolds gather around the bear trap poking and prodding it with great amusement. "Old Sharptooth is great and powerful kobold god yes-yes! He curse-hex all kobold who do not show him proper worship and sacrifice-die as strange purple shaman demand! He give kobolds the yellow scale disease-sickness make sleep-die... Mite stole idol-statue so kobolds can't worship-praise him proper and that is why we must war-battle!"

Brental nods, acknowledging his unfamiliarity with kobold theology and simply accepting their description at face value. Many of the gods were fickle and spiteful. It wouldn't be the first time some group's deity had ventured a curse on their worshipers.

There were many other possible explanations, however, and Brental clued in on the brief description of the strange purple shaman. Another kobold, perhaps? Or another draconic ally? Old Sharptooth may or may not care one way or the other about the idol, but at some point a few things happened. There is a purple shaman that the kobolds fear and respect who demands sacrifice. The Soot Scales are also undergoing a plague of some sort that is decimating their numbers. This shaman could be the source of that plague, or simply using it as an excuse to manipulate them. Many with some source of magic could reliably cause foul blights. Many unscrupulous types would then turn around and offer a cure, in some magical hustle. Distasteful, that sort of business. Related or not, the local mites also stole their statue. And now because of these, the kobolds had a grudge to sort out.

"I am sorry to hear this tale," Brental says. He looks at his companions. "I would like to find more answers. We may be able to help."

This was not their fight, but it represents some of the instability in the area that they could quell. If the Swordlords desired safer trader through this area, warring locals was certainly bad for business. But trading partners interested in ensuring the continued passage of goods through the area, especially if they stood to benefit? These kobolds seemed reasonable enough that they could be convinced of such a deal. The mites could as well, if they could be reasoned with. The wheels begin to turn in Brental's head.

Brental is ready to move on back to Oleg's Fort to rest and sell/trade goods. He has no more questions for now.

The kobolds agree to part ways amicably with the adventurers, relaying that they will be waiting there for the adventurers to return.

Much time passes as the group makes its way back down the familiar forest path to Oleg's. The sun is setting by the time they arrive before the structure where a most curious sight greets them. Several armored and armed men stand about a makeshift platform under a tree where a simple noose has been constructed. In the midst of these men, bound at the wrists is a famaliar face. The sullen Vlad stands amidst the men head hung low as he prepares to meet his fate.

Noticing the adventurers arrival one of the men, a rather strikingly handsome man with chizzled features, short black hair, and a five o'clock shadow raises a hand beckoning the group to stop. "Hail travelers. I assume from the look of you that you would be the adventurers tasked with clearing the Greenbelt? The master and mistress of this residence informed us you had gone ahead to deal with a nearby enemy encampment. Pray tell, did your endeavour meet with success?"

Once the adventurers return to Oleg's, Meneas looks at the new arrivals from beneath his hood. "I hope you're the guards that Oleg and Svetlana thought we were." He says almost wearily, before continuing. "Kressle and her bandits won't be coming back. The Stag Lord's presence this far north has been... ended. For now, anyways."

After a moment, he shakes himself. "I'm Meneas the Cowl. These are my companions, Signy, Brental, and Lady Lorna Medvyed." He indicates each of them with a gloved hand as he introduces them. "Who might you be?"

The man's heavy plate armor clinks loudly as he sighs, in apparent relief, he looks up at Meneas with heavy bags under his eyes and nods handing a sizeable leather pouch to the man which rattles aboit promisingly. "That is indeed a relief to hear. The Swordlords are eager to here promising news on this front and it has been some time since anyone was able to actually deliver. They have been riding us pretty hard so one can only hope this will get them off our backs a little... Oh yes, and they've authorized a reward on this Kressle woman you spoke of, she's been a pain in our backsides for long enough, glad to finally be rid of her."

With that the man coughs politely and adjusts himself, straigtening up into a more respectable pose. "My apologies, it's been a long road. I am Kesten Garess of the Restov guard. We were indeed dispatched here to deal woth the issues at the trading post but it seems you dealt with it all yourselves rather handily. We're just mopping up the remainder now."[b] He gestures back at Vlad, who looks up dejectedly for a moment only to be roughly shoved by the surrounding guardsmen. [B]"After which, I hope you will accompany us inside so we can enjoy a nice warm meal and exchange what we know. You look like you could use it as much as we can."

The bag contains 400 gp!

Knowledge (nobility) untrained DC 10: 1d20 ⇒ 12

Ah, even more official Restov authorities to deal with their one-time prisoner. To this point, Brental still felt uncomfortable playing the part of the executioner. Battle was one thing, but when someone surrenders, what to do? Vlad was young to have made a death-warranting mistake, but Brental was happy to have the decision taken from his hands.

Brental inclines his head to Kesten Garess as Meneas introduces him.
"Lord Garess, we are pleased to fulfill the terms of our charter in a manner this satisfactory," he acknowledges. "And further happy to have allies in the work."

He bows with the practice of someone familiar enough with Restov politics. He also gets the distinct sense that attempting to put in a good word for Vlad won't change the outcome of his impending execution, and could confuse things. He glances at Signy and Lorna, wondering if either of them will speak on Vlad's behalf.

Quick regarding loot: I have marked what I think we intend to sell vs what we intend to keep, along with how I think we're dividing things. I also added a "medkit" sheet, representing items that I think are held in common for the party (healing, trail rations, etc.). If you disagree with something, feel free to change it up.

Kesten raises his gauntlet-covered hand and waves at Brental dismissively whilst shaking his head. "No honorifics necessary, nor warrented please, I haven't been, 'Lord Garess' in quite some time."

The chiseled man nods, "It is good to have allies this far south, especially ones actually capable of doing the hard work that needs doing. Lady Jamandi's assistant said that you seemed up to the task but I must admit I had my doubts. Glad to see I was proven wrong."

Signy promises to show the kobolds how to make the stew. She thought about passing along a recipe once she had it for only a second, she can'y imagine the kobolds managing written or verbal instructions. They will have to be shown.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The situation at Oleg's is alarming to put it mildly. Signy plays it cool though. She doesn't know much about the new men sent to Oleg's from Restov, and things could go sideways very easily. After the conversation has had a while to progress she interts herself when it seems best.

"We appreciate your praise, and we are grateful. But there seems to be a miscommunication. This man was already tried and sentenced before your arrival. Have you not spoken with Oleg and Svetlana about this? We did not sentence him to death. He was questioned extensively by me and found to have committed no great offenses himself. I'm confident of my conclusions regarding him. I am an inquisitor in Cayden Cailean's service, and well trained to root out falsehoods."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25

Kesten side-eyes the woman before him as though unsure of whether or not he can take her words at face valie but eventually does relent waving his men off and bidding them to cut the ropes which bind the young Vlad's wrists. "I had spoken to the Levetons just prior to our meeting. That was when I discovered that this young man was involved in the banditry of their outpost. I hope you take no offense to our course of action here. We were merely operating under the letter of Brevoy law that banditry is to be met with the punishment of hanging or death by sword. However, I am will to cede jurisdiction to you in this case given that this is not technically within the borders of Brevoy and that you were assigned the task of dealing with the banditry in this region as you see fit. It doesn't hurt that you are also with Cayden's inquisition, your god is known for giving second chances and I respect the judgement of the church."

The man sighs heavily and turns back towards the trade post beckoning the adventures to follow. "Speaking of the Lucky Drunk I don't know about the rest of you but I could use a stiff drink. Care to join me?" his gravely voice trails off as he is already halfway to the main building before finishing his invitation.

Vlad looks shaken but looks up at Signy and mouths his gratitude as the group heads into the outpost.

Inside the palisade they are greeted by a big hug each from a very worried looking Svetlana. "Oh my goodness! You're all back safe and sound! I was so worried! Signy dear, I tried to tell the guards about our guest but these stuffy suits of mail only cared about 'the word of the law' and 'the dictates of the Dragonscale Throne'and all that toss! Oh my, you look a little worse for wear you poor things! Let me serve you all up some drinks and hearty soup to warm yer bellies. Oleg is out at the moment, couldn't stand to be here arguing with the guard about poor Vlad. Said he'd gone to work out his frustration chopping wood, should be back soon though I'd imagine. Oh! Sit down sit down all of you I'll be right back with the food! And Meneas, hoods off at the table! And wash yer hands!" And with that little tirade over Svetlana disappears into the house for a few minites before emerging with warm potato soup and mugs of ale for everyone.

Meanwhile Kesten has a sit down at the table, takes a few sips of his ale and crosses his fingers. "So, I suppose we should get right to it... What have you learned of the Stag Lord since your arrival? Do you know his whereabouts? What is your current plan of action? And is there anything else going on here I should be aware of? My men and I will be stationed here for at least the next month so you can count on us to keep the trade post and the Levetons safe."

Meneas falls silent, watching the discussion from beneath his hood for the moment. Flexing his fingers, he sighs, chuckling dryly when Svetlana reprimands him. "So far as we can tell, the Stag Lord keeps himself home far to the south. A keep of some sort, if our informant can be believed. Other than that, we're aware that there're some kobolds in the area, though they don't seem immediately hostile, and some minor fey called mites, who seem to be as much a nuisance as anything else."

He shrugs slightly as he dismounts and begins unburdening his beloved horse. "I think that's all we know at the moment, but..." The knight-errant looks to the others to confirm his statement.

Signy is very pleasantly surprised. She'd expected considerable resistance from Keston. In her experience most people in his kind of position are officious, smugly self-regarding types.

"We didn't come our decision lightly. I'd like to explain the reasons to you over a drink, yes."

She slips Vlad a quick, reassuring wink.

Just to make double sure there are no "misunderstandings" or "accidents", Signy takes Vlad back to his holding place in the stable personally. Once he's secured she joins the others inside, bringing the radishes with her.

After the greetings and news are taken care of, Signy sits down with Keston so they can talk while they drink. She'd rather not have to get into any serious conversations so soon, but at least he's awfully nice to look at.

"I'm glad you understand that the letter of the law isn't always necessarily the best way to do things out here. We've been effective. Not only are we still here instead of already back in Restov whining about how hard the job is, but we've taken 14 bandits out in our first week. That includes one of the Stag Lord's lieutenants, and with no losses on our part."

"But, we're still outnumbered and will have to continue to nibble away at them rather than going for one big gulp. We need flexibility do it. If all we have to offer is death sentences, we make the Stag Lord's leadership easy for him. There's no sane alternative for a bandit. It's win or die for them. But, if they start thinking things are going sour, and we have reasons to think there's doubt about the Stag Lord's standing right now, we can offer the third option of getting out alive to them."

"Kressle's people didn't tell us where his fort is, but they did tell us some useful things. The Stag Lord is a drunk, and it sounds like he's getting worse. He's lazy too, doesn't come out much and leaves most everything that needs to get done to the people under him. His people fear him for sure, but they don't respect him anymore. His advantage in numbers only matters if he can get them to show up for him. That's his weakness, and we'll exploit it."

"That's why Vlad's case is about more than just how he's punished. He's an example of a good outcome free of the Stag Lord. It's a tool that might be used to splinter his people. If we can't offer desirable choices, we have fewer tools. If you come along and reverse our decisions, we can't make offers or deals with credibility. There's not a lot of people out here, and when they meet up they share the latest news. If Vlad had gotten hanged, word would have spread and it would have undermined us."

"It looks like Restov is satisfied with our work to the tune of a nice pile of gold. So what we're asking from you is trust in our methods to match. You described us as 'capable allies' back at the scaffold, so we can cooperate in this way yes?"