After stumbling the first time, Lord Nar finds himself tripped, then smacked in the head by the pommel of the blade, and then tied up. What little intelligence is left rolling around in the orc's brain after the hits and the drugged stupor encourages Nar to just...let the warrior tie him up.
The brief altercation had been loud--he could hear the orcs in the barracks stirring, anyway. They would surely come to his rescue...he hoped.
The vicious being was incredibly dangerous, incredibly deadly, and there was part of him that simply wanted to end the threat. Instead though, he would bring that pommel downwards.
Fin nods at Baradim's choice. As Baradim ties the Orc up, Fin checks him over for lethal wounds - finding several. He tends to him enough that he won't bleed out in the next few hours.
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Seeing that Nar has been taken care of, Drake pulls out a potion and drinks it. Looking over at Niss and feeling like she's exposed, he turns his focus to the open doorway and takes up a position to provide cover for her. "I got this doorway covered!" Tempted to move to where he's using himself to block the doorway, Don't be a fool, Drake. You are a team and a team works together. You know you need them all. Especially Niss because there is no one stronger. At that thought, a wry grin slowly comes into focus.
In the barracks, Drake and anyone else standing near the doorway can hear the sounds of orcs waking up: grunting, grumbling, and rummaging around for their weapons. The one nearest the door looks up and spots Drake's feet beyond the doorway and points it out to the others, starting to shout in Orcish about there being intruders.
Lord Nar, restrained, sits and glares at them with a grin on his face, hearing the other orcs stir and begin to come to his rescue.
The other orcs from the outside finally start to hear something and slowly make their way over to the hunt, assuming that the ruckus is just Lord Nar being his usual loud self upon waking up.
In the barracks, Drake and anyone else standing near the doorway can hear the sounds of orcs waking up. The one nearest the door looks up and spots Drake's feet beyond the doorway and points it out to the others, starting to shout in Orcish about there being intruders.
Lord Nar, restrained, sits and glares at them with a grin on his face, hearing the other orcs stir and begin to come to his rescue.
Fin finishes up with the medical treatment on Nar a bit frantically as he hears the other Orcs getting ready to come on scene. He looks up afterwards and sees Nar grinning at him. "Oh, wipe that smirk off your face. If this goes south, I'm going to shove alchemist fire down your grinning face and you can die burning up from the inside."
Fin gets back to his feet and casts Shield again before the Orcs come through the doorway.
Catching sight of the orc on the other side of the doorway, Drake takes hold of his blade with one hand, and uses the other to launch multiple hammers at the enemy.
Lord Nar just glares at Finoan in response, but stays quiet.
Drake's hammers slam, one after the other, into the orc's skull and caves it in, blood spattering along the wall with the force of the hits.
The orc nearby that one shouts again and moves into Nar's hut to attack Drake twice.
Yet another orc follows his buddy's lead and charges in to attack Drake.
The final orc in the room finds his way blocked and waits for his colleagues to make space for him.
Baradim moved towards the front of the hut, readying his shield before standing firmly before the door. He would give a nod to Niss, keeping her secured in the corner before he banged his shield and gave out a growl.
"Your leader is caught! Lord Nar sits trapped, beaten, and your defenses breached! Drop your blades and the mercy you showed will be returned! If you refuse, your bones will remain here, forgotten. Choose!" Baradim shouts, the guttural roar of his voice breaching the tent.
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Niss sees the orc get a small hit on Drake, and sends the hatchet hurtling towards his face, splitting his skull in two.
She looked to the other one engaged with her husband. "You should have stayed in bed," she said cooly.
Baradim's shouting reaches the ears of the orcs outside of the hut, and one stops in his tracks--he knows that voice. He remembers what Baradim did to Lord Nar when The Princess Guard attacked before. Even though his side had driven the intruders back, Baradim left an impression.
The orc glances around at his comrades to gauge their reactions and drops his weapon readily. The other two follow suit, dropping their weapons surrendering.
Niss' borrowed hatchet cleaves the orc's skull in twain, blood and brain matter spattering her beloved from the force of the blow. The other orc clutches at his knuckle dagger, cowering in fear before the terrifying psychic.
Niss' borrowed hatchet cleaves the orc's skull in twain, blood and brain matter spattering her beloved from the force of the blow. The other orc clutches at his knuckle dagger, cowering in fear before the terrifying psychic.
"I hate war - wading through the bodies of the peons before getting to the heart of the problem."
As the remaining Orcs surrender, Fin turns back to Nar. "You should be grateful for that. If we had to slaughter all of them, I would execute you as well. The leaders should not be spared the fate of their underlings."
He says to Inniska and the others, "Can you see about getting these ones rounded up and heading out of here. They can set up camp a couple miles away - or run for the hills for all it matters to me. Though we won't be able to help them with their addiction problems at that point. I'll go get the one from the tower to join them. And we need to hurry before the next patrol comes along."
Lord Nar snarls in response to Finoan's admonishment and mumbles something in Orcish. As he shifts uncomfortably where he is restrained, any of you may notice that he has a leather necklace with a bronze key at the end of it sticking out from under his hide vest.
"Graytusk will come and check on us soon, anyway...then you'll be sorry, and Vilree will be pleased."
Finoan is already headed out the door, so doesn't notice any keys that Nar has. He also doesn't understand the Orcish that Nar mutters, so doesn't stop to respond. He simply continues through the doorway. He checks the surroundings to make sure that all of the Orcs did indeed come over and that there are none left on guard still - and to make sure that there are no other enemies present.
If all is clear, he dashes over to the tower again and heads up it to fetch Graytusk.
With all the orcs surrendering, Drake holds his blade out a moment just to be sure none of them change their minds. Appearing as if none of them are going to, "Well. Okay. That was easy." Drake then sheathes his blade.
Hearing Nar grumble something in his native language, Drake turns his attention to him and heads that way. Noticing the leather necklace, he grabs it and rips it off his neck, inspecting the key for a moment. "This may prove useful." Cutting his focus toward Baradim, "What did he say, Baradim? Anything useful?"
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Niss swirls a finger idly through the air to keep the hatchet slowly spinning, just as a reminder the orcs should be on their best behavior.
"You heard the cat. Please form a line, single file. Leave some space between you. We're going to head out the gate, and you'll have two choices -- set up camp a couple miles from here, and start a nice smokey fire in the morning. We'll find you and help you out -- get you some money, and rations, to start a new life. Get you some healing until the drugs are flushed from your system.
"Otherwise, leave, do what you want, whatever. But...if you stop walking before you're at least a mile away from here, or you try to warn Vilree, I will know."
She took turns speaking into each of their minds. "And I will kill you with my brain." She smiled pleasantly.
Finoan sneaks his way into the room at the top of the guard tower, just to be safe.
"Time to go," he says as he slashes a claw through the binds holding her in the chair, but leaving the ones on her wrists for the moment.
"Nar is alive, though only barely. As are most of the rest of the troop. If you hurry, you can meet up with them before they leave."
Fin half leads, half drags Graytusk back down the stairs and out to the yard.
Graytusk is indeed still there, and before Finoan drags her away, she would dig her heels in to ask a question: "Do we get to gather any of our things, or are you claiming all of those as spoils of war?"
Outside, the remaining orcs follow Niss's directions--they have never met anyone who can speak into their minds and have no reason to disbelieve Niss's claim.
Graytusk is indeed still there, and before Finoan drags her away, she would dig her heels in to ask a question: "Do we get to gather any of our things, or are you claiming all of those as spoils of war?"
Fin stops and looks at her for a moment. "I guess I should hold off on a final answer until I know what you are wanting to take. But generally I don't think I am going to stop you from taking your things with you. I'm only keeping your hands bound right now because I am alone and I don't actually trust you farther than I can spit. No offense - I'm sure you understand."
He looks around the room. "So are you wanting something from here, or in the barracks?"
"My personal items. My weapons." The tall orcish woman points a foot toward her pack in the corner of the room where her weapons also lay. "I don't need to be holding them in my hands. But I am not giving them up."
Fin shrugs. "Don't take this as me trusting you. I'm just trusting my own ability to tie rope. Or something like that." He grabs the sword and slides it into the sheath Graytusk is still wearing, loops her bow over her head and one shoulder, then grabs the pack himself.
"OK. Let's go. I still want you out of here as quickly as possible."
As the orc speaks his native tongue, there is a scoffing laugh as he crouches down to look the defeated orc in the face. A condescending smirk spreads across his face, his tusks gleaming as his eyebrow lifts softly.
"Ez a mi különbségünk. Buzgó vagy. Harcos vagyok." He whispers softly, chuckling to himself before he stands back up. "He believes that Graytusk will be our undoing. He doesn't realize that we had defeated her long before we got to him." Baradim says to Drake, giving a side eye to the tied up man before him. "Always take out your greatest threat first. An enemy's logistics, their support, and then their frontline will crumble. Basic military practice."
He lets Finoan leave to deal with Graytusk, his attention turning to the remaining orcs there. Niss begins to speak with confidence to each of them, laying out the rules of mercy for them. When she mentions that she will know if they decided to betray them, his eyebrow lifting lightly.
"She has grown more powerful than I've imagined." The orc thought quietly to himself, swallowing hard before looking back over the orcs there.
"Bölcs vezéred megkímélt minket. Viszonozzuk ezt a kedvességet. Vilree megmérgezett, hogy hűséges maradjon, engedelmes legyen." Baradim says to each of them, marching down the line and taking each of them in. He holds their gaze with an intense stare before he continues speaking. "Ha akarod, menj el, de ha vársz, mi segítünk. Egyszer s mindenkorra megszabadítunk a rabszolgaságtól. Olyan leszel, mint én, meg tudod választani az életed. Válassz."
Fin brings Graytusk over towards the rest of his allies. When they get near, he cuts the bonds on her wrists. "Looks to me like you are in charge of your group now," he says to her. "Best go catch up with the rest of them. If you are still in the area when we are done here, we'll meet up later."
He bounds off the rest of the way to his own team. "Well, that went much better than last time. Amazing what a good bit of recon does." He looks around at the entryway to the rest of the compound. "Speaking of which. Looks like it is time to find out where to go from here."
Lord Nar grumbles back at Baradim but doesn't push the issue. Graytusk being subdued was not something that the Lord had predicted... She would be the one to report to Vilree first if she had seen something. It was likely that the Keep had no idea what was going on outside for the moment. Eventually, someone would come to check on things.
---
The rest of the orcs shifted uncomfortably under Baradim's gaze, looking at each other with skeptical glances as Baradim moved to the next one in the line. After a few moments, one man speaks up in Orcish. "Meddig várunk itt kint, mielőtt azt feltételeznénk, hogy meghaltál?"
Between Baradim, Finoan, and Niss, the orcs were left to make camp a mile outside of the keep, watching for anyone coming to enter in exchange for help overcoming their mutagen addiction and a chance at a better life. Graytusk reluctantly took charge of the group. Drake tended to stand off to the back, offering a grin and a thumbs-up whenever anyone happened to look his way.
Lord Nar, however, remains restrained, but his heart isn't in the resistance attempts. He's tired, the odds are against him, and a little part of him is secretly hoping that Vilree will surely notice that he isn't making his daily reports to her.
----
Once Lord Nar has been handled, The Princess Guard takes a few moments to look around the courtyard and see their options. To the south, another palisade wall leads to a wide natural cavern that seems to be purposeless.
Near the southern palisade wall is a small doorway that leads into a tall, wide tower and there is another door leading into what seems to be the main part of the keep built into the mountain. Finoan, ever-observant, recalls there also is a door in the tower where you all found Graytusk. There seem to be several ways inside with several options for ingress.
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"Which way should we go in?" she stood close beside Drake, pleased things had gone better than expected thus far.
Lord Nar, however, remains restrained,
Fin looks with a bit of distaste at the bound Orc. He calls out to Graytusk before she leaves, "Do you want to take responsibility for him, or should we deal with him?"
----------
"Which way should we go in?"
"Not the main door. That is just asking to get attacked from multiple directions. Let's go check out this farthest door."
Graytusk shakes her head no at the suggestion they take responsibility for them, grimacing. "Deal with him how you want."
-----
Finoan senses no traps, but the silver key he found earlier fits into the lock and the door pops open with a soft 'click.' The door swings open to reveal a well-appointed lounge. Off to one side, a pair of padded chairs sits in front of a fireplace lit with faintly glowing embers. Two bookcases flank the fireplace along the curved wall; they are filled with books, journals, notebooks, scrolls, and all manner of estoeric items. Nearby, a staircase goes up to a second level, and a door stands partly open, leading to a kitchen.
Graytusk shakes her head no at the suggestion they take responsibility for them, grimacing. "Deal with him how you want."
Finoan avoids looking at Nar as he turns and faces Baradim. He doesn't say anything, just has a clear question in his expression. He then unhooks a flask of Alchemist Fire from his belt...
Niss crept towards the kitchen door, peeking in to see if she could see or hear anyone moving around inside. If she heard someone she'd signal the others and back away. If not, she'll peruse the bookshelves looking for anything of interest, especially if her magical detection alerted her to anything as they entered the room.
Finoan slinks in to the room as well.
"Három nap. Ezek után menekülj." Baradim says in response to their question. It would give the Guard three days to explore and defeat Vilree and whatever machinations she had within it before the orcs fled to try and survive whatever was coming next. As they began to leave, he notices the look that remains on Finoan's face. He gives a grim nod, looking back at the others. "I will take care of this."
Looking down on the defeated warrior, Baradim would stand there for just a moment contemplating his actions. The powerful orc was dangerous and would certainly do his very best to try and escape from his bonds to come after them. What could cause such devotion in someone so rageful?
"Why do you follow Vilree so passionately? You are strong, gifted even. With some control, you could become a great chief. Do you love her? Do you think she loves you?" Baradim asks, tilting his head as he tries to understand the orc before them. If he had been rescued by Vilree and taken in at his lowest, would he be just as devoted? It was impossible to say. All that Baradim knew was Lord Nar would leave her free of her influence...or die today in her name. There was no other option.
"Why do you follow Vilree so passionately? You are strong, gifted even. With some control, you could become a great chief. Do you love her? Do you think she loves you?" Baradim asks, tilting his head as he tries to understand the orc before them. If he had been rescued by Vilree and taken in at his lowest, would he be just as devoted? It was impossible to say. All that Baradim knew was Lord Nar would leave her free of her influence...or die today in her name. There was no other option.
The fanatical Orc stares at Baradim with barely-concealed disdain, shifting uncomfortably in his bonds.
"The old chief didn't let her lead. She burned him alive. I accepted, and I benefit. Because of her, we have everything we need. I keep the others in line and keep this place protected, and she protects us in return. Feeds us. It helps us both." The corpulent orc looks proud of his decision, just briefly, before he shifts again and the chafing bindings remind him of his current position. He pointedly does not address the accusation that he would love some little half-elven woman. "She respects me. Listens to me."
----
Finoan slinks in to the room as well.
Finoan notices no traps, but when he peruses the bookshelves, he notices a well-used ledger wedged among the books, as well as several diaries. The handwriting on the spine starts out a little childlike and gradually seems to mature. There also seem to be several personal items shoved amidst the books, should Finoan like to spend the time to dig around in it .
----
[dice=stealth]1d20+7
[dice=perception]1d20+6Niss crept towards the kitchen door, peeking in to see if she could see or hear anyone moving around inside. If she heard someone she'd signal the others and back away. If not, she'll peruse the bookshelves looking for anything of interest, especially if her magical detection alerted her to anything as they entered the room.
As Niss approaches the kitchen door, before she even peeks in she can hear a racket from the kitchen--it sounds as though someone--or something--is banging a stick against metal pots and pans.
Fin watches attentively as Niss rummages through the bookshelf. "Those diaries and ledger probably have some good information..." He hears the commotion from the kitchen. "that it looks like we will have to investigate later."
Finoan looks back to the entrance to the room to make sure they have backup before peeking around the corner into the kitchen.
As Niss and Fin peer into the small kitchen, they are greeted by the sight of absolute chaos. Dirty pots and pans are piled high on the table in the center of this room, obscuring the view of the fireplace that sits beyond. Assaulting your noses is the smell of burnt food--layered underneath, a hint of spoiled food.
You can't seem to see the cause of the noise, but whatever it is makes squealing, frustrated sounds as the crashing sounds continue.
"Which way should we go in?" she stood close beside Drake, pleased things had gone better than expected thus far.
"Not the main door. That is just asking to get attacked from multiple directions. Let's go check out this farthest door."
Nodding, "Fin's got the right of it. The furthest door sounds good."
Niss looks to Fin with confusion. All this noise, and no one had come to investigate? Spoiled and burnt food? With so many slave guards out front, Niss would have expected Vilree to have a housekeeper.
She was not a fan of the squealing, and was not about to be the first one to walk into the room and find out what it was. Perhaps it was a rat trapped in a pot, but the way these people altered animals, she didn't want to come face to face with some mutant creature.
She made a little 'after you' gesture to the others, followed by lingering eye contact with Drake, urging him, wordlessly, to be careful.
Fin returns Niss's confused look and shrugs. "Well, whatever it is, it doesn't seem to care much that we are here."
He casts Shield and steps quietly into the kitchen to get a better look at what is making the noise.
Finoan spots the source of the noise: a very rotund, almost cherubic homunculus hovering over a smoking pot. The little creature is making nonsense sounds, but they do sound rather annoyed with the whole situation. It bobs up and down in the air and chitters at the pot, smacking it again with a large wooden spoon.
Unfortunately, Finoan is not quite quiet enough to sneak up on the creature. It glances back, beyond its set of leathery batwings, and throws the wooden spoon up in the air in horrified surprise. "AAAAHHH!" The creature shrieks, the pitch impossibly high. The creature picks up the pot and whips it at Finoan.
The pan goes flying through the air and crashes into the door beside Finoan, the smoking liquid splattering over the wall and missing Finoan entirely. The creature starts darting around, looking to find an opening to go zooming out of the door.
Finoan drops into a crouch as the homunculus shrieks and hurls a hot pot in his general direction. He leaps up and tries to grab the thing before it can fly away. He he snags it, brings it down, and after a bit of fumbling around manages to get a reasonably good hold on it with one hand.
"Whoa, easy there little guy." Fin pets the little creature with his other hand. He looks over at the food covering the wall. "Well, I would ask you what's for dinner, but I guess that is a moot question at this point."
Niss yelps as the soup crashes and cringes back from the creature in Fin's paw. "Yeaagh! What is it?!"
This homunculus in particular wears a small collar, that on inspection, reads "Pergy." You recall that a homunculus usually can't speak--it can only speak to its master through a mind link.
"Yeaagh! What is it?!"
"Homunculus. A little crafted servant." Fin looks at the name on the collar. "They usually don't talk, but this one at least makes noise. Worth a shot."
"So, Pergy. Is that your name? Or your owner's?"
Pergy only squeals angrily in response, wiggling furious in a futile attempt to escape.
Finoan looks distastefully at the angry creature that is squealing entirely too loudly for his liking. "Niss, see if you can find a cooking pot or something like that that is large enough to lock this thing in."
Fin almost loses his grip on the thing, but manages to get it back under control. "Or I could just dispose of it. But sometimes that doesn't go unnoticed by its creator."
Niss winced at the sounds the thing was making and looked for a suitable soup pot with a lid.
Cringing at the sound of the creature, "Outside of being really loud, it doesn't appear to be much of a threat. We could just let it go." Drake suggests as he helps Niss look for a pot to trap it in.
"It isn't much of a threat by itself," Fin says. He almost loses grip on the screeching squirming thing again. "Here, you hold it."
"The problem is that if we let it go it will immediately warn its master that we are here. And possibly everything else in this compound too."
Fin also takes a look around the kitchen.
"Bah. Do they just not keep anything in here big enough to cook an entire turkey in? Maybe just tie it up - and muzzle it."
"Sure." Snagging the pudgy creature, Drake puts a hand over its mouth in an attempt to keep it quiet. "Look, little guy, we are not going to hurt you! We just need you to be quiet! Please be quiet!"
Not possessing a strong feeling he's going to get anywhere with the creature, "Yeah, I think muzzling and tying it up is a good idea. I'll hold him still if you or Niss," he looks to his wife, "wouldn't mind taking care of that? Or, if you want, I don't mind taking him outside and letting him squeal while you both investigate this place a little more peacefully. I can deal with the squealing, it's not a problem." He shrugs matter-of-factly. "Sound like a plan?"