Errol Voelker's page

After a quiet moment Errol exhales loudly... "S'pose we'll hafta think on that one. Don't know how one even might go about naming a realm."

"Norton's got a name for the festival, no? Rose out of his yearning, by my mem'ry."

last wrap up of meeting, and wrap up anything you'd care to do before festival, please. I'd like to start the festival this week.

Errol shrugs. "Kesten spoke my words. Laws would be good... unless you're looking for me to enforce my best guess at law and order."

Errol nods... impressed, and inches over to Sonechka. He subtly clears his throat. "Hello... Errol Voelker m'lady. I have been made aware to what capacity you were intended to serve in the abandoned Narthropple venture. I assume by your presence here, you are meant to play a similar role here? I would be more than willing to step down... and serve Rojeune more directly."
Errol grins inappropriately toward Rojeune, then adds. "You'd make quite the pair. I'd like to see the two of you get together." Rojeune puts him to sleep, and nods curtly to acknowledge Sonechka and her assessments.

Errol gives a gold piece to one of the new arrivals, and asks him to find Kressle and fetch his horse.

In his discussion including Furiel and Green, Errol nods "I will. Though I'd advise all of you meeting with her. I think she has a good heart, but their allegiance may have already been bought..."

"Rovanna Haasen's death was before I was born.. fifty, sixty years ago?... so it is all hearsay, but if she hasn't been heard from for that long....
She was known for military leader assassination, and political manipulation through disguise and enchantment. The Magpies who worked for the Stag Lord follow her teachings, and I really cannot say how many of them I would trust."

DC 20 Kn(Local) or Kn(History) to know more about Rovanna Haasen. A second roll can be made to have knowledge of the Festering Lilies DC22 (with a +6 to your roll if you succeed on your first roll regarding Rovanna Haasen. (this is at the breakfast tent by the gates... any or all of the group may assume to be there.)

"My heart is here, Ser Ambrosi." He accepts the offered armaments with a bow. "No it is a fine sword. Thank you. Deueron-forged. He was a student of many masters." He points to the embossed symbol on the blade near the hilt. "It suits my style well."

"There have been many groups who have taken the name Magpies in Mivon over the past several generations. Association with the fey was used as a cloak of fear, and mystery... though originally that may have been the case. The first was said to have been led by a fey-touched half-elf witch Rovanna Haasen, who trained runaway and orphaned young girls to become thieves, spies, assassins, and enough witchcraft to serve as a coven for their rituals.
There are a few varied stories of her fall decades ago, but they all include old debts catching up to her. Not an uncommon demise. Her most well-known children are a small, but influential trio of hags known as the Festering Lilies. They mostly deal with trade of illegal and rare arcane material ingredients, and self preservation."

He acts a little reticent, but offers... "I can set up a meeting with the Magpie I've had contact with.... Please don't consider it a breach of our trust if I don't name a name."

Morning comes.
You find Errol has returned from his trip with Alice to Oleg's. He is eating breakfast at a pavilion tent near the gates which has become a "2nd tier VIP" spot. A cook by the name of Spitch Fowler has taken command of the food served there.

Errol nods and pauses his meal as each of you happen by. He asks for Norton. When Norton arrives he opens his satchel and delivers envelopes.
"Couple letters here for you Ser Ambrosi. Lord Mayor gifted us a few young studs, as well... good lookin horses. Couple chestnut brothers and a grey beast named... " He looks at a note written on his forearm in charcoal. "... Rogslaegt. Whatever language that is."
"So you bumming around here today, or riding out?"

Errol rides up next to Norton. "Ready to go, sir." After a moment... "Cap'n Kesten said you wanted to speak with me, but were about to head out to tame the wild for the day." He shrugs "Thought I'd come with.."
He then looks over at the scene between Akiros and Brarim, and rubs his stubble. "Maybe that'll perk up the sad sack."

He turns and shoots a grin toward Norton as he turns his horse toward the gate to leave. "Shall we?"

Errol peeks around the corner, and spots a crossbowman up on the northeast platform.(kneeling at (^J,18) on platform. A missed shot grazes one of the horses... the wagon gets yanked further a dozen feet. Rogar loses his cover, and the horse looks ready to panic.

With the enemy's movement, Errol sees the potential for the fight to turn in the Stag Lord's favor. "Rogar... " he points to Rogar and then the gate.. He then points to himself and then the Stag Lord. "Go.. I distract"
Errol then dashes to the nearby ladder. Rogar switches back to his blade, and moves closer... back under cover of the wagon.

>map<

Errol seems to inflate with sufficient confidence with Norton's words in his ear. "Yes Grundy's Taphouse is up and running again... The old man is low on ingredients, so Glausho stayed behind just to make sure things go smoothly for a while. Thought we should bring a couple cases... and we have a few of Kressle's men here who have just become redundant."

The bandit looks thrown by the word.

Errol explains, now fully in character... "They have been replaced. Akiros will decide what to do with them." Now with an outlet for his nervous energy (his tongue), Errol has difficulty stopping. "If it were up to me... considering how completely ineffective they have been..." He shrugs "They most certainly have not performed up to the standards of your esteemed general."

The bandit replies "Oh. Right... thank you?" He turns to the two outside the gate watching. "Delivery from Grundy's boys!"

You are now 50 feet from the gate.

The wagons get underway. After a while, those under cover find some ventilation is worth the risk until you get closer. After you are on the road for a few hours, Errol speaks just loud enough to be heard. He points out a trail which crosses your path and curves into the woods.

"Few miles yet, but... This is how far out we'd pat when I was under the Stag. Said to be fewer at the fort now, so I'd wager we'll find a tighter pat now. Regardless, might be prudent to batten down the hutches."
"...and incident'ly, anyone with a dark hooded cloak and a willingness to keep their head down might pass for Nihtscada. Believe me no one who knows'er comes near her... "

Ta'de-win finds a suitable place for camp a quarter-mile southwest. From the information you have gathered, you are able to estimate the travel time to the Stag Lord fort to be around 4 or 5 hours.

Errol helps tend the fire and tells a story while Furiel inspects the found items.

"When I was a boy, I went hunting... well.. gigging bullfrogs. The other boys I was with were much older... sons and nephews of my father's underlings. I was forbidden to spend time with them, but I listened as well as any other 11 year old boy."

"We were in the swamp, and having little luck when we saw a light... a lantern-light in the dark marsh. We foolishly went to it, found a shack on stilts we swore was never there before, and even more foolishly went inside. Before we could even reach for one of the dozens of odd baubles, jars, and artifacts... there it was in the doorway. "

"It had the body of a old hunched and sagging woman in rags, and the head of a bullfrog. She waved her staff and belched forth a cloud of flying insects. I tripped over something and fell... and watched the swarm chew through them like corn-on-the-cob. The beast then opened its mouth and with a flick of a massive tongue, swallowed every last bit of the swarm. "

"It was then I realized what I had tripped over was the latch to a trap door. I flipped the latch and dove through head first. I landed in the muck on my back, and willed myself to run with the wind knocked from my lungs... I never turned back, and never admitted I had gone in the first place."

"Nasty things out in these woods... and some things... you run from."

Errol peeks at the collar and shrugs. "Most likely the Stag Lord himself... or it was intended for him. His penchant for wild unnatural beasts is well-known by those who have spent time anywhere near the fort."

Norton - no identifying mark on the collar

After catching word that he might be out front, Errol works his way into the conversation. "My task was to find out why the Bluecloaks tribute was so late, and deal with any problems they may have been experiencing. It should not raise too much suspicion if I were to be driving the lead cart of goods. The alcohol will divide their attention, as well. Feel free to use me in your ruse, Ser Ambrosi... I will give you as much time as I can, but I do not wish to die sword unsheathed."

Errol shrugs, "Could be. Stag Lord may'a sent him there himself. Last I heard about Dovan was how he and this Akiros were in an argument regarding Dovan's handling of some matter... Akiros was still a fresh face. Well... Dovan's "squire" made a snide remark toward Akiros, and the Stag Lord crushed his neck like it was warm fruit. That was the night Akiros became Stag Lord's second. I'd say that would back up your hunch."

Errol rides near the center of the group, and looks around the terrain. "Had a field of tall grass like this near where I grew up. As a boy, I would often steal one of my father's swords and go out attacking weeds... defending the honor of imaginary maidens from clumps of razorgrass."

Seeming to note Norton's receptive ear he continues...
"Had no idea how complex life was about to become. I had always thought of my father as a hero... the respect I saw given to him by people and his.. palpable aura of pride..."

" Then, politics changed. His past deeds were seen in a much different light. The blame for the dark path I have followed does not lie with him. I let my bitterness as a child toward those people... and how their treatment of him crushed his spirit.. I let that fuel my ambition in aligning myself with what those people feared."

Errol responds to Green,"Yes... I swore heart mind and blade. Regardless, the Stag Lord lost my respect when I first met him. My house in Mivon did have its dark dealings, but this Stag Lord is truly mad evil."

And then addresses Furiel, Ta'de-win, and Norton in turn "A fair plan will get the gates open. If your ruse does more than that so much the better. It is possible some might turn if the battle goes our way early... and most of those I wouldn't trust. I know nothing about the new fellow, Akiros, who took over as second in command."

"The buildings are watchtowers which also serve as barracks. I was only inside once. I was in a camp outside. There were a half dozen camps around the perimeter when Dovan was recruiting like he was building an army... He's just as mad as the Stag Lord."

Errol takes one of the gnome brother's blueprints, flips it over and makes a sketch while Furiel speaks then continues.

"There is a palisade over 100' across. Inside is a crumbling stone keep, with wooden walkways and small towers built on top."

Errol responds to Norton "Well a few weeks ago, there were over 30. But in a drunken rage, the Stag Lord killed three with his bare hands for 'belly-aching' and sacked his second in command, Dovan... who had been handling recruitment. Should be down to around a dozen now. Most were sent off as we were."

Errol takes Rogar's hand and gets to his feet. "I give my word I will serve you and your cause... heart, mind, and blade."

Errol attempts to parry Rogar's strike, but is unable to deflect the full force... the slash cuts deep into his right arm. Errol drops his blade and falls to his knees. "I yield. I yield.. you have beaten me Ser Valertis."

Nihtscada curses and spits on the ground.

Rogar is able to parry Errol's strike, and with a flick of the wrist knocks Errol's guard aside to slash across his clavicle.
Errol adjusts his footing and stance to better defend himself before attempting to deliver a quick stab... but fails to hit.

Errol smiles as he returns to his defensive position "I'm impressed Ser Valertis... most men have fallen to my first strike.... nasty wound there in your belly, and still you execute a nimble riposte with stable footing. But have you learned in your training when to yield, I wonder..."

Rogar's blade draws blood nicking Errol's left forearm. Errol steps forward and continues his aggressive style... a light guiding tap with his scabbard before hacking with his blade.

Errol draws his blade and holds the scabbard in his left hand.
He smirks and open his mouth as if about to speak, then rushes forward. He smacks Rogar with the scabbard in attempt to guide him into his sword strike.

"What brought you here Errol? you strike me more for a city dweller than for a man of the woods."

"I come from Mivon. My family was respected for a time... but things changed. Instead of taking a "walk to the fishponds", I chose to leave. Not being a man of the woods, as you say, there was little else for me but mercenary work. "

To Rogar he responds with a nod and mischievous grin, "I look forward to ... settling things. Being defeated without crossing swords has left me ... unsatisfied."

Errol takes a slow step forward, then lunges at Norton - slashing at the air in front of him. He frowns in minor frustration after missing. "Quit your quibbling... and Glausho... tell your man to stop using my horse as cover..."

1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11
move to (T,14)

...and then speaks to Norton while changing his grip to both hands. "So... you are Sal'dor's dogs... I should have known the Bloodband would make a play against Him."

Round 1
Errol twirls his sword in his loose grasp. He grins coolly at Norton while his comrades are entangled behind him. "Your boys can handle this, right Glausho?... " He takes a second to get his footing, then nods at Norton to let him know he is ready.

Errol - posted
Green
Kressle
Norton
Rogar
Norton
Glausho +3 bandits
Furiel
Ta'dewin
Mikmek
Nihtscada

map

Nihtscada immediately turns her horse around scanning the horizon. (you notice now her horse happens to be hovering several inches above the ground.)

Errol shakes his head disappointed, steps back to his horse. He takes hold of the hilt of his sword sheathed to the saddle, and faces Norton again.
"It is by His word that I take command of the Narlmarches, Norton. Do not mistake me for one of Kressle's stable of dimwits." He looks down at his shimmering light blue cloak, and nods slightly to the grungy bandit. "Glausho..."

"Sir?" The grungy bandit responds. He still watches Norton with his beady eyes nestled in a mass of weathered lines that look more like squinting muscles than wrinkles. Glausho gestures toward the bandits on foot, then speaks, "Check him... search the tent."

As he draws his blade, Errol speaks again "If you care to pit your piece of paper against my blade... I hope, for your sake, it's a thick piece of paper."

Here will be your perception to beat if you care to try to advance without her spotting you or take an action that could give away your presence.
1d20 + 10 ⇒ (13) + 10 = 23
This post equals 2 rounds of enemy in posted positions. (other than Errol moving 5' east)
Feel free to roll initiatives.

"Us people? Who do you think we might be?" slightly exaggerated "who me" mannerism as he speaks, and he stops approaching.
Nihtscada scowls.

current map

Errol smiles while the dark elf's eyes narrow. "Most kind of you. Perhaps -" he stops when the dark elf interrupts with "sir."
He turns and she shakes her head.
"Come now Nihtscada, if you don't care to stop... by all means go on ahead" He dismounts, and the others move up. The mounted grungy bandit rides up next to the dark elf woman referred to as Nihtscada, and leans in to speak quietly to her. The bandits on foot move in around them.

Errol continues "So ... Norton. I did not catch what your business is here? There are many dangers in this woods, happen to come across any well-armed groups out here?"

can't update map til I get home (8hrs) but they have moved up. All between rows v and z

"I am Errol Voelker. What business do have here?" he responds politely but a bit coldly.

They have now moved up another 5 feet

Thirty minutes later, not long after first light, you hear the sound of horse hooves to the south on the path. Not many (maybe just a few), but they sound like they are approaching quickly.
Then you see them. Three on horseback, and three running behind. A man in a light blue cloak that seems to shimmer in the light. A dark-skinned woman, and a grungy man who looks like a typical rural bandit. The three running behind are dressed similarly to the grungy man, in black leather and cloaks.

The dark-skinned woman points out Norton's camp to the well-dressed man in the shimmering cloak. He puts up a hand "Ho!" They all slow down to a walk around (aC,13-15)
He addresses Norton as they all slowly approach "...and who might you be? " He grips the hilt of dueling sword sheathed to the side of his horse. The woman pulls her horse up beside him and snarls at Norton. She looks like an elf, but the wrong shade of dark skin to be a drow. She wears a long handled sickle on her waist.
at this point the lead is around row Z, the rear is around row aD, all are slowly moving forward.