The sun had slipped past its zenith, casting a warm, golden hue over the Frandorian Hills as you traversed the rugged terrain. The hills undulated in a series of rolling, slightly barren slopes, their sparse vegetation and rocky outcrops giving the landscape a stark and rugged appearance. By mid-afternoon, the shadows of the hills had lengthened, heralding the approach of evening.
As you climbed a particularly steep incline, the entrance to the Caves of Respite emerged from the shadows. It loomed ahead, partially concealed by the sparse growth and jagged terrain. The cave’s mouth yawned like a dark wound in the hillside, framed by rugged rocks and scant, scraggly vegetation. Around the entrance lay remnants of past visitors—rusted buckets, broken branches, and shards of stone - testimony to those who had ventured here before.
Sir Alaric Wrenhold had tasked you with this mission, relaying the concerns of Prefect Bandrus Far Raven. Reports of hostile creatures and unsettling activities in this region had prompted the Prefect to seek answers. He feared these disturbances might pose a threat to Frandor’s Keep and entrusted you with uncovering the source of the unrest.
As you drew closer, the sense of foreboding grew stronger. An unnatural stillness seemed to envelop the area, as though the very mountains were holding their breath. The echoes of your footsteps stretched out, swallowed by the darkness of the cave entrance. A chill ran down your spines, whether from the cold or the ominous aura of the caves, it was hard to tell.
Yriel's keen eyes scanned the area as he moved, and just as he started toward the cave's mouth, he noticed subtle movements within the shadows. There, partially hidden behind a jagged outcrop, stood two human guards. Clad in worn leather armor, the guards leaned casually against the rocks, talking in low voices. By sheer luck, they hadn’t noticed your approach, their inattentiveness working in your favor.
The group halted at Yriel’s silent signal.
What do you do?
Iragha crouches low on Yriel’s discovery. Listening for a while she catches the drift of the guards’ wandering conversation.
”Likely underpaid, ill-trained and bored - I know the type. How do we want to handle them - subterfuge and stealth; deception and honeyed words; or just brain them? I’m not the quitest of gazelles - wouldn’t do to let them sound an alarm further in…”
The orc scowls.
”I admit it is disconcerting to find the Caves are…somewhat organised….”
The older human was frowning toward the cave, thinking grumpily about fate and how life was like a burr wedged in your shoe sometimes. Enough he hadn't noticed the guards.
"Sleep" he muttered through his beard. "it's a spell, but I have to get close."
?
Yriel moves ahead toward the cave opening. Let me know what the rest of the group is doing.
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Sweat poured from Ralina’s brow as she wheezed herself up the final hundred yards to the plateau leading to the entrance of the vaunted Caves of Respite. Looking around at the gloomy, shadow drenched maw of the entrance and feeling the cold dank breath pouring forth from it, she cursed the twisted mind of whoever named this desolate patch of the world. Based on the chills doing a double time high step along her spine, she had serious doubts about finding either rest, safety, or comfort beyond that dark entrance. It had about as much appeal as another stint in old Beebe’s debtor’s prison back home. Three years in that little piece of Underhill hell, gifted her a streak of white hair to tarnish her otherwise raven black tresses. Although she had to admit, rather than being seen as just another old hag, the white highlight seemed to add to her alure for most folk.
Of course, she’d received another little gift from that forced respite in the dark, dank, coal tunnels in the depths of Underhill. Most of the time she just suffered a bit of a cough or tired a little more easily than others. But under real physical strain, well, that’s why she currently sounded like a rutting Triaxian Mountain Buffalo. Priests, healers, wizards, so far none had really found a cure. Apprently neither gods nor arcane wisdom was a match for the toxins, fungi, and filth spawned in ole Beebe’s house of horrors. Still she kept trying. Taking a long draw of the latest elixir, she stifles another coughing spasm. So far, she wasn’t sure the stuff did anything, but the old charlatan who’d sold it to her at least used a decent distillation of grain alcohol in the blend. It only felt like a mild dragon fire inferno slithering down her gullet. Still, the stuff did finally bring her fit under control with another sip. Was that huckleberry and mint she tasted? A hint of cayenne? Pine? By the Nine, what did the coot put in this stuff? Ah….too late, my tongue is numb.
She watched and waited from several dozen paces back as the elf strolled up to the opening looking as if it wasn’t likely some raving beast would come charging out to dispose of intruders in the same manner as those who came before. Either the warrior was incredibly brave, incredibly ambitious, or incredibly naïve. Remembering how the elf hung on every word from Iron Arse Alaric and how he’d pushed the pace all the way up the blasted mountain, she’d put her coin on ambitious.
The call for light, draws her attention back to the immediate moment.
“Aye, give me a moment.” She says already striking sparks with her flint, but then they all hear the voices and in the blink of an eye the torch is replaced with her small crossbow.
Nodding at the old wizard’s suggestion, she starts to slip carefully forward only to see and hear Yriel take off quiet as a church-boar. Unless the two guards were deaf, their cover was blown. With the quick expert eye of one who's spent a lifetime ducking guards and angry marks, she ducks into the deepest shadows she can find, training her bow on the entrance. Ambitious. Definitely ambitious.
The old man's steady gaze tracked the distance he would have to be to cast this spell, and he was too far. He slipped off his heavy pack, set down his clunky staff, then he followed the elf as quietly as he could.
Not wanting to leave Creeg undefended, Iragha shadowed the human, trying to be as stealthy as she could in her mail, her longsword in hand and shield at the ready.
Yriel moved cautiously toward the cave, his keen eyes darting between the shadows and the guards. Ralina had already melted into the deeper shadows, her crossbow trained on the entrance, ready to react.
Creeg, despite his years, attempted to move quietly, slipping off his heavy pack and setting down his clunky staff. He followed Yriel as quietly as he could manage. Behind him, Iragha shadowed his movements, trying to be stealthy in her mail, with her longsword in hand and shield at the ready.
As Yriel closed the distance, a small rock dislodged beneath his foot, skittering down the slope with a sharp clatter. The guards' heads snapped up, their casual conversation halting abruptly.
"There! I see someone! Get back inside!" one of the guards hissed, his eyes scanning the area and spotting the sneaking elf. They quickly scrambled, and seem intent on rushing back into the cave.
Creeg rises to standing, weaving his hands in a complication pattern while almost singing the arcane words into a soft lullaby. He dislikes this part, showing to all with eyes that he is a spellcaster, and thus a Target.
Cursing as the “gig is up”, Iragha stands by Creeg, for the moment unsure if moving forward will get her caught in the magicks being cast, and intending to shield the wizard if necessary.
Seeing the bandits cop the elf's approach, Ralina draws a quick bead on the closest holligan scampering back into the safety of the maw's dark interior. They'd have a demon's time catching the two on their own turf. She hoped the wizard could catch them both with his hoodoo, but fifteen inches of steel and wooden shaft might tilt the odds a little more in her gang's favor. After all, they only needed one to answer questions.
A heartbeat later the sharp *thwack* of her crossbow echoes Iragha's curse. The bolt zipping toward the closest of the two guards.
The guards' brief moment of alertness was quickly overshadowed by the weaving motions and arcane whispers of Creeg’s spell. A soft, magical lullaby filled the air, and you could almost see the enchantment ripple towards the guards.
One of them, just about to turn and rush inside, was hit squarely by Ralina’s well-aimed crossbow bolt. He let out a choked cry, slumping to the ground, his life ebbing away even as the spell’s magic enveloped him.
The remaining guard barely had time to register his comrade’s fall before the magical lullaby took hold. His eyes fluttered, and with a slight stagger, he collapsed into a deep, magical sleep right where he stood.
What do you do?
"shouldn't." The old man says to the elf, while giving the small archer a look that is hard to decipher.
The wizard does not offer to help, he does not seem particularly fit.
“Excellent shot Ralina! That ought to keep him quiet.”
Iragha hustles over to help, and begins whispering orders.
”Well done Creeg. Now help Yriel bind…and gag…the sleeper. Then follow me with him. I’ll drag our late friend back to our position. Ralina: keep watch down the tunnel entrance.”
The orc stows her shield and then heaves the corpse over her shoulder, looking to take the body into the brush.
The group worked quickly and efficiently. Iragha hefted the lifeless body of the fallen guard over her shoulder, moving with surprising ease despite the weight. She headed toward the cover of the nearby brush, her eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of additional threats.
Yriel and Creeg, following the orc's orders, carefully bound the sleeping guard’s hands and feet with rope. Yriel took extra care to gag him securely, ensuring he wouldn't cry out if he woke prematurely. They then began to drag the unconscious guard away from the cave entrance, moving as quietly as possible to avoid drawing any attention.
Once they had moved a safe distance away, hidden behind a thick clump of bushes, the group regrouped. Iragha gently lowered the body to the ground, while Yriel and Creeg propped the sleeping guard against a tree, double-checking the bindings.
Ralina flashes a quick smile at Iragha and plucks her bolt from the dead guard with a cold casualness before the half orc carries the body off into the brush.
While the others turn their attentions to the prisoner, she reloads her crossbow and turns her attention back to the cavern entrance. Her eyes gaze into the darkness, waiting to see if the men had any allies lurking just out of sight.
Creeg looks at the elf with a touch of confusion in his wrinkled eyes
"We need information." he turns and kicks bound man, enough to wake him. He kneels down to peer down at the prisoner. "We're going in. If we live, we'll let you go. If we die, they'll think you betrayed them. So tell us what we need to know to live." which is more sentences than you've heard the old guy say so far.
Iragha stands over the man and merely grunts with an upward thrust of her head, meaning unclear. She taps her blade, conveying a slightly more clear, and dangerous, meaning.
The guard, now securely bound and gagged, glared at the group with narrowed eyes, his suspicion evident even in his restrained state. As he slowly regained full awareness, he struggled against his bindings, though the ropes held firm. His eyes darted around, assessing the situation and the individuals surrounding him.
"You won't get anything out of me," he spat defiantly once the gag was removed. "We've got eyes all over this place. The second you step into those caves, you'll be surrounded." His gaze lingered on each member of the group, trying to gauge their reactions. "You think taking out a couple of guards is enough? We're prepared for intruders like you."
The guard's bravado wavered slightly as he shifted uncomfortably, his muscles tensing. He stood there, silent and tense, his reluctance to speak evident in his guarded demeanor.
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Still keeping close watch on the cave entrance, Ralina mutters back over her shoulder just loud enough for the prisoner to hear.
"If he's not going to say anything useful or smart, then just shut him up permanently. There's no profit in keeping him alive. The boss didn't say we needed anyone alive."
Her words of doom for the bandit are said with a casualness that speaks of one who has seen plenty of death, killing and misery. Has fought, connived, and spilled blood as a way of life. Just another citizen of Underhill.
The guard's defiant glare fades as Yriel’s words begin to sink in. Unease creeps into his expression, especially when he hears Ralina’s callous suggestion. His eyes flick nervously from the bandit’s body to the cave entrance, clearly weighing his options.
“Alright, I’ll talk,” he says, his voice wavering with a mix of fear and hesitation. “But before I say anything more, you’ve got to tell me—what’s going to happen to me if I cooperate? I don’t want to end up like him.” He nods toward the dead bandit, his gaze pleading. “What’s your plan for me?”
Iragha huffs, again, a not very clear indication of her demeanour.
”In the end, Shune devours us all. How we arrive at that end… [here Iragha gets her face quite close to the man’s head, like stinky orc-breath close] depends on how well we think you do in the providing of information stakes.”
The orc then steps back, and shrugs to her companions as if to say “What?”, then moves off to support Ralina, hovering to the side of the cave entrance so as not to be seen by those inside.
"What the hell do you want to know?" - the man snarls as Iragha comes closer - "You haven't asked me anything"
The guard shifts uncomfortably, glancing between Yriel and the dead bandit. He takes a deep breath and starts to speak, his words blunt and unpolished.
“Alright, fine, I’ll tell ya. There’s about ten of us here. The caves go deeper, but we don’t know much about that. We’ve heard weird noises coming from deeper in, so there might be more stuff down there—don’t know what though.”
He looks anxiously at Yriel. “We’re just here for guard work while the boss deals with his own business. Don’t know the full story, but if you’re taking me with you, just know I don’t want to end up like him.” He points at the dead bandit.
"All I know is his name - Brom" - the man shakes his head - "The rest is not my business and I don't care"
Ralina listens to the bandit spill while keeping her eyes and crossbow focused on the cave. When he's through, she reaches down and tosses a slightly pointed stick at the man's feet.
"Sketch out a quick layout of the caves and where the others are usually staked out. You knuckle brains use any kind of passwords or call phrases?" She says, her voice raspy as she tries to hold back another cough. "What are the other eight supposed to be doing now? Sleeping, eating, guarding something else?"
Finally she is forced to stop talking, and suffer a series of rasping coughs. Eventually she hocks up a wad of pale gray and yellow phlegm, spitting it out with a muttered curse for the Underhill mines and long hikes up to not-so-abandoned caverns. Catching her breath as the bandit sketches, she ponders the dark maw of the cave and tries to recall if she's ever bumped into the name Brom during her many hours spent in the local pub's that populate Frandor's Keep and its surroundings.
"I'm not gonna sketch anything" - the man lowered his head in resignation - "I have said as much as I will. You attacked without provocation. And killed my companion in cold blood"
The bandit's refusal causes Ralina to finally break her eyes and the steel pointed tip of her loaded crossbow away from the cavern entrance. Both pivot to face the pathetic guard, the former gleaming with a suddenly stoked rage that only after several long seconds begins to fade. Her finger quivers over the trigger, the knuckles growing white with desire to simply end the man. But she can feel Yriel's presence nearby and could also anticipate the warrior's objection to killing the bandit.
"Without provocation? Cold blood?" She snarls. "Listen you piece of tunnel dung. We wouldn't be here if you and your boss hadn't provoked his Lordship into sending someone to this gods forsaken hole in the ground to put and end to you and yours bothering the folk of the low lands. Soon as you caught the Prefect's attention, you were pretty much a walking dead man."
She turns back to Yriel and waves a hand dismissively toward the prisoner. "I'd put a bolt in his heart right now, but if you want to molly coddle him along, put a gag over his gob and keep the shackle bait away from me."
Lowering her crossbow, she frees her hands to grab her torch and once again starts flicking her flint and steel to light it.
Creeg might have started the talking to the prisoner, but he seemed content to settle back into his quiet.
Until suggestions of taking him with them comes up. "bad idea." he doesn't explain why, but no one here seems green enough to need it. "We gag, stake him down, then put him back sleep." he does wait before doing so though, in case someone wants to argue
Eyes still set on the interior of the tunnel, Iragha merely makes a hand motion of “let’s go”. It’s clear she has no further interest in the prisoner. Longsword and shield at the ready she waits for her companions to arrive.
”Who’s carrying a torch? What’s our order of…business? Point? Van?”
Creeg puts the man back to sleep, gags him, then goes to shoulder his pack again. Ready to go.
Creeg simply nods, pulling out a torch from his bag, waiting to light it until the group is ready to step in.
Peering from the lip of the cave into the gloom beyond, you can see that the the entrance promptly narrows into a tight corridor , leading into the darkness.
Actions?
Seeing Creeg ready his own torch, Ralina shrugs and once again stores hers back in her pack. Gathering her crossbow, the halfling falls in behind the elf and half orc. She doesn't spare a backward glance for the bound and gagged prisoner. Instead focusing her attention on the narrow tunnel ahead. She didn't like that choke point. She and Samantha, her former cellmate, could've held off a dozen or more tunnel raiders using it, but so far it seemed these men weren't that alert.
Crouching low, the halfling stays close to the wall, using the shadows created by the torch to stay out of sight as much as possible while also watching for any telltale signs of hidden doors or traps.
Iragha accepts the plan, and paces carefully along the tunnel alongside Yriel.
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