Strovan is still walking slightly ahead of the cart and is slowly eating a pear. He briefly looks back at Cale, the briefest flash of a grin flits across his face and then he continues walking. After tossing the pear core to the side of the road he waits for a few seconds for the wagon to catch up with him.
"Well friends as a couple of you know me but not all, I am Strovan. Nothing more than a simple devotee of Cayden Cailean. Tis a righteous deed, this, helping those who are being oppressed by forces far greater than themselves. No man should have what he has worked so hard to earn, stolen from him by sword point. I've been known to bandage a wound or two, and am usually a good judge of character. However I admit to being far from me home and know nothing of these lands. Oh and if ye be planning on purchasing drink trust me if I tell ye which one to buy."
After the last statement Strovan breaks into a big grin, then walks around the wagon checking all of the goods making sure they are still secure.
Silstaren listens attentively with his head cocked toward each speaker. At Cale's speech, the corners of the elf's mouth turn up almost imperceptibly. Lord Surtova too had dispensed with formalities when on the road. Like his father. But that thought kills the nascent smile.
Garyn's and Strovan's introductions draw a wider grin. Silstaren was already beginning to like these rough-cut characters. I should have guessed Strovan was devoted to Cailean. The tankard and last night should have been a giveaway. Intriguing. Silstaren is pleased at Strovan's choice of patron. Silstaren favors Cailean best among the ascended gods.
When it's his turn to speak his words come in rythm, almost like poetry. "Silstaren I was named. I know the forest. I can wield a sword. With a bow I am among the least of my people. I have wandered the lands west of here, but am new to this land."
He draws a deep breath, "As the mayor said, I was with Surtova's father when he died, killed by the bandits we seek. TO clear my honor I have pledged revenge against them."
Your journey continues taking you to south. By nightfall, you stop, eat, and camp. You're glad that they packed extra blankets for you as it is a chilly night. I assume you take watches, but not too far from city of Restov, there is little danger and the night passes calmly. Then next morning arrives and you continue the trek. You notice that the merchant traffic in the opposite direction diminishes drastically. By the 3rd day of travel, the air has grown chillier and a fresh snowfall arrives to cover the landscape. You really start to miss the warm beds of the Thirsty Wyvern and the peasant women of your estates, respectively.
By the middle of the third day, as you travel on the road, you notice something....
Even though he continues chatting to ease the boredom of the miles, Garyn always has his eyes forward, scanning for threats...or anything to relieve the monotony of the road.
Cale isn't normally very attentive to things that aren't centered on himself, but he seems more alert than usual for now.
Strovan is walking slightly slightly ahead of the wagon as usual.
Greehr gave the cart a brief look through, before settling awkwardly on the back of the cart, watching the city recede before his eyes. "The name's Greehr of House Lebeda. I have none of my family's skill with the blade, never taken to it really. But I have the command of several major mercantile languages, and the knowledge of the inner workings of the arcane. And a few tricks with alchemy as well." He added as an afterthought.
Days later, Greehr has taken to sitting on the cart, in deep thought.
Perception
As he drives Silstaren's gaze constantly shifts over the landscape as he looks for anything unusual or out of place that could indicate trouble.
He picks the easiest target for conversation. "So, Greehr, do you come by your talent for arcana and alchemy by nature, or by nurture?"
He picks the easiest target for conversation. "So, Greehr, do you come by your talent for arcana and alchemy by nature, or by nurture?"
"A little of this, a little of that." Greehr replies. "Not enough talent to be admitted into the colleges arcane, so I made do with what I had. This is the result. Greehr motioned to a few of his vials.
"A little of this, a little of that." Greehr replies. "Not enough talent to be admitted into the colleges arcane, so I made do with what I had. This is the result. Greehr motioned to a few of his vials.
"What do you have there?" Silstaren lets the reins go slack and looks intently at Greehr.
Garyn struggles to see something in the trees up ahead, as the falling snow obscures his vision. Greehr is in the covered wagon currently and has no line of sight.
Cale holds up his hand and draws his sword. "Hold up, men. Silstaren, you and Greehr stay with the wagon. Garyn and Strovan, with me. Let's get a closer look." Cale then approaches the corpses, keeping one eye to the woods around them for possible danger.
Strovan quietly says, "Anyone see anything other than the bodies? The snow is making it difficult for me to make out much of anything. He then unsheathes his rapier carefully looks around and slowly approaches the bodies, letting Cale take point.
As Cale and the crew approaches, they indeed see now human corpses dangling by their necks. The corpses are devoid of flesh, probably due to scavengers. As you look carefully, several of the bodies are missing fingers, one is missing an ankle, and all of them seem to be missing their eyes. Clothing is minimal, only pieces here and there. No jewelry or gold is visible on the corpses, as well as no armor and no weapons.
Silstaren stands in the wagon to shout to the advance party. "Cale, this is where the bandits ambushed us. " He jumps from the wagon to the ground and hurries forward. "There, at the base of the tree, is where your father stood. Three arrows struck him in the first volley. Gorber was killed by an arrow through his eye. Nils was struck in his shield arm. A second volley flew in, but by then we had found cover. From all sides they closed with us, a score against five. "
The elf strides to stand beside the ashes of the campfire. He begins pointing out the places where each of his companions stood in their last fight. "Javik, the Varisian, my friend for three years, with whom I had traveled from his homeland. He died next, an arrow through his throat."
"Nils fell next. He couldn't protect his flank with the wound."
"Dymitri and I were back to back, surrounded by enemies. He had laid aside his armor for the night. We never dreamed the bandits would come so far north, so close to Restov. Beset as we were, we couldn't reach your father alone under the tree."
"Lord Surtova was magnificent. Despite his wounds, he fought like a cornered badger with the strength of thirty. I saw him personally strike down three. His sword slashed like a dragon's wing through fog. The bandit leader, Kressle, threw an axe that hit him in the head and then the others closed on him like dogs on a bear."
"Seeing all was lost, Dymitri and I broke through the circle of our enemies, but a spear thrust laid him low."
"Kressle's other axe cut me sorely as I fled. She set two bandits on my blood trail. It was easy to see in the fresh snow. I was just able to get clear. The cure potion your father provided each of us kept me on my feet until I could ambush my two pursuers. "
"When I returned to the camp at dawn, the bandits were gone. They took all the goods and valuables we had. "
Blast it all, how did I not see this? Garyn thinks, cursing his inattentiveness. Ye're gonna get everyone killed if ye don't keep yer mind on the present. He dismounts and goes to the men examining the corpses.
"That's...ye did what ye could, mate," Garyn says softly, putting his hand on Silstaren's shoulder after listening to his tale. "No one could have asked more of ye, beset as ye were." He turns to Cale. "Yer father died on his feet, fighting like a hero of legend. I doubt it's any consolation, but ye should be proud. We'll find this Kressle, and she'll dance on the end of a noose if ye don't gut her first."
After giving Cale and Silstaren sufficient time to mourn or contemplate, Garyn politely suggests that the party move on.
Cale stares in grim thought at the bodies. He never imagined his father to be much of a swordsman. Silstaren was probably exaggerating to make the son prouder of a dead father. It didn't matter now; not to him and definitely not to these souls led to their deaths by his father. Will we be the next to hang? Or will it be this axe-wielding banshee? "Let's cut them down. We aren't savages to leave our dead unburied." Without waiting to see if the others will go along, he hacks the ropes loose, digs in the wagon for a shovel (hopefully someone thought to put one in the wagon) then gets to work digging a mass grave. If there isn't a shovel, he'll ask how close Oleg's is to see if it would be a good idea to bring the bodies with them to the post for burial there.
Strovan stands quietly for just a second. Ahhh, I forget how young he is at times. He walks up next to Cale, and pats him on the shoulder. "Here lad, let me help ye. Tis a job that no one should do alone."
Strovan works quietly alongside Cale, following his lead in this duty. Once the graves are finished he will say a short prayer over the graves, after asking Cale and Silstaren which gods would be appropriate for those who died. "They dinna deserve this, but gods willing we will be able to avenge them. But hear me, we can make a difference, before we are finished twill be them that hangs from a limb."
Garyn wordlessly helps Cale bury the bodies, working until the job is done. He nods silently at Strovan's words, and only speaks when spoken to out of respect until the group gets underway again.
You are about halfway to Oleg's Trading Post. After you dig your graves, you continue on. The rest of the journey continues peacefully enough, with no incident. On the sixth day, by mid-afternoon, you spot the four 20' watchtowers in the distance that identify Oleg's Trading Post. There are no guards on said towers and as you follow the road that leads there directly, you notice what appear to be catapults on each tower, but they appear to be in need of repair. A 10' wooden palisade surrounds the post, but the main gate appears to be open, as you head inside. You can see a waft of smoke rises from what appears to be the main house's chimney. You see a young woman, in her early 30's, carrying some firewood into the home. Svetlana When she sees you, she cries out, "Hail there, soldiers, thanks for responding to our summons! Oleg, Oleg, the soldiers are here, they're here! Come quickly! Thank Erastil!" You see a look of genuine joy and relief on her face. After a few seconds, a burly bearded man steps out from inside the first structure to the east , hammer, nails, and wooden boards in hand. Oleg "What's all this yelling for, Lana?" He looks the party over and says in a gruff, angry tone, "Well, it only took those damn Swordlords 3 weeks to finally send some men down here! What the hell took you so long???"
"They seem to think we're soldiers, mates," Garyn says quietly to the group while waving to Svetlana. "Master Surt...I mean Cale, would ye do the honors?"
Cale was mute after the burial, thoughtful on how 'real' things were becoming. He had faced men in duels, but never been in a real melee where life and death were decided. Maybe he should head back home and just let Caleb deal with this like he wanted. As the dilapidated complex came into view, such thoughts were dismissed again by the excitement of exploration. When the traders came clamoring, Cale frowned. "Beware your tone, trader. The Swordlords didn't send us, we have come on a mission of our own. We need food and water and a place to sleep for the night. What are your rates?"
Garyn clears his throat, "That is to say, Master Oleg, that we weren't aware of any troubles ye were having, but it's likely our mission and yer problems might overlap. What seems to be the trouble?"
Oh, Gorum's balls, thinks Garyn, this boy is going to be trouble...
Strovan winces slightly at Cale's words. He then turns to Cale and whispers, "Ahh earlier you asked what skills we might be bringing to the proverbial table. Being a traveler such as myself perhaps I might be better able to talk with this fellow and gain assistance. We are far from the city and tis possible this is the only friendly outpost for miles and miles. Let rough fellows such as myself and Garyen deal with this rough character, and see how much information we can get. Folks this far away from civilization are usually out here for a reason, they maybe don't deal well with figures of authority like yourself. Just remember at this very moment we need him almost as much as he appears to need us."
He then steps up to the front of the wagon waves to Oleg, and says, Greetings sir, tis nice to see a friendly face in this wilderness.
"Beware your tone, trader. The Swordlords didn't send us, we have come on a mission of our own. We need food and water and a place to sleep for the night. What are your rates?"
Cale's words visibly anger Oleg. "My tone?! I don't like your tone!This be my establishment, traveler, and if the Swordlords didn't send ye, then ye'd best be finding some other place to stay. That is if ye have enough food to make it back! Now get out!" Oleg's wife, with a dejected look on her face, says: "Honey, we need the business, even if they're not the soldiers we requested."
"Master Oleg, just because we weren't sent specifically to aid ye doesn't mean we won't aid ye," Garyn says, pleading Svetlana with his eyes to back him up. "For my part, I'm willing to help do whatever it is ye need help doing."
Truly I apologize for the offense sir. It has been a rough week yon lad has lost kin to the bandits in this area. We are here to seek information on the bandits, and if possible put an end to them. I am guessing if you be asking for soldiers then our goals may be one in the same. Please let us purchase room and board for a night, ye can tell us of yer troubles and we will see what can be done.
Strovan gives a beaming smile while happening to brush his cloak back to reveal a symbol of a large mug, the holly symbol of Cayden Cailean. Perhaps the man brews his own ale this far out in the wilderness, maybe he respects the Lucky Drunk enough to hear us out.
Upon hearing Garyn and Strovan's words, Oleg does indeed calm down. He looks at Cale and says "Sorry for your loss, boy, these bandits have me all worked up and I've got a short fuse nowadays. Please come in,it seems we be having similar troubles, perhaps we can help one another out. I am Oleg Leveton and this is my wife, Svetlana, Lana for short. Please follow us, there is a stable for your mounts", pointing to the western building. Lana speaks: "It's a pleasure to have you here. When you're ready, please join us in the main house for dinner. Oh my, that food won't serve itself!", as she rushes off into the house. Oleg speaks in a more serious tone, "Yes, we have much to discuss this night", as he follows his wife.
"Thank ye, we will be right in as soon as our horses and wagon are taken care of."
Strovan looks over at Cale, "This is the wilds, they don't know who ye are, and perhaps even if they did they wouldn't care. Right now we need all the friends and information we can gather. Tis like me mum always used to say 'You catch more flies with honey than vinegar'."
Strovan then waits and watches Cale.
Cale watches impassively as his companions rescue the situation. "Yes, Strovan, you speak truly. This is a different place, which is why the man wasn't strapped up and flogged for speaking to me as such." I should not have gotten cross, they are simple folk here. "My apologies as well, Oleg. It has been a long journey." Insincere as it is, Cale makes no effort to improve the apology. He walks to one of the outdoor tables and sits down, looking quite fatigued from the road. He starts to pull off his boots to rub his feet, then shakes a rock or two out of the boot. "There you are, you little bastard. Next time you need a ride, find another boot."
When they reach the fort, Silstaren jumps down and immediately examines one of the horses. It seemed to be favoring one leg as they approached the fort. Hearing Cale's exchange with Oleg, he grits his teeth, drops the hoof in his hand, and takes a step toward the conversation. Before he can speak Strovan and Garyn have smoothed things over. There's wisdom and tact anyway.
Silstaren helps stable the horses and unload the wagon. That done, he takes a seat at the table across from Cale.
Garyn sees to Barley, removing his saddle and brushing him down. After, he helps the group stow the wagon and supplies. Once they are settled in for the most part, he makes his way into the main house to offer to help with readying the meal for such a large group.
Once everyone is set down and the meal is underway, he looks at Oleg and Lana and says, "So, please tell us more about the bandits troubling ye. What do ye know of their strength? Do ye know where they are based out of?"
As you open the door to the house, a warm delicious smell greets you. Lana says: "Please have a seat, young men. And wipe those boots off before coming in!" She is serving plates of hearty stew and warm bread at each setting. "Oleg, would you do the honor, the wine is chilled and ready to serve." Oleg groans but goes and gets the red wine, uncorks it, and starts filling your glasses.
After he finishes, he sits at his place and starts eating. "My wife is a fine cook, better than many of those cooks in those fancy establishments you may frequent", looking directly at Cale. "Don't mind him, he's being too kind", says Lana, blushing. When she hears Garyn's questions, she speaks: "They started coming about 3 months ago, was the first time. There were 12 of them that first time, they demanded we hand them all our furs and trade goods, or else they'd burn down our place and have their way with me! We couldn't say no, so they took all our stuff." Tears start forming in Lana's eyes. Oleg's face turns serious and his fist tightens on his glass, almost breaking it in his hands, but he stays quiet. Lana wipes her tears away and continues: "Now they come 2x a month, for their "trading post tax", taking all of of our profits and goods. We have it ready for them, they pick it up and just like that, they leave. As to their number, the first time there were a dozen of them, 10 thugs, their leader was a cloaked man armed with a bow, and a woman who carried 2 small hatchets. The woman seemed to be the smart one and the most vicious one. The other men seemed afraid of her, she is scary. She almost took off poor Oleg's hand off once. Instead, she just took his wedding ring. On the subsequent visits, only the cloaked man and his thugs come. Second time with 6 thugs and then with 4 thugs each on every other time. We don't know where their base is, but they always mention a camp that they are eager to return to, so it must be relatively close. Lana stuffs some food into her mouth. Oleg speaks: "I've sent numerous letters to the Lord Mayor of Restov and the Swordlords, and nothing to date. One of me friends, a fur trapper, told us that he had heard soldiers would be sent soon but I guess not. So if ye bother me asking, what be ye bandit troubles, other than the boy here losin' his kin?"
Silstaren swallows quickly, then interrupts, "This woman? Dark hair? About this tall?" ~ holds hand up to indicate height ~ "Goes by the name Kressle?"
"Tis a shame we must talk of such matters over such excellent food. I thank ye for the meal, with a little luck we will be able to solve some of your problems. Now, its true the act that lead to us being sent was the the murder of which you spoke." Strovan leans back in his chair and sighs. "But it isn't the only reason we are out here. Our goals are larger than simple revenge. We are here to scout the area, to map it, in hopes of eventually bringing order to the lawlessness."
Strovan interrupts his dialog by helping himself to a third portion of food. After a few minutes filled with smiles, and contented sighs he resumes. "But on to immediate concerns you say the bandits be stealing from you? Do you know perhaps where they are coming from. Or maybe when they are next due? At the very least we may be able to stop them from their theft, or possibly catch one of them and find out more information on their organization"
Silstaren swallows quickly, then interrupts, "This woman? Dark hair? About this tall?" ~ holds hand up to indicate height ~ "Goes by the name Kressle?"
Lana responds: "Yes, I think that's what the rest of them called her and that is definitely her description. She's the scariest of all of 'em!"
"But on to immediate concerns you say the bandits be stealing from you? Do you know perhaps where they are coming from. Or maybe when they are next due? At the very least we may be able to stop them from their theft, or possibly catch one of them and find out more information on their organization"
Oleg speaks and glares at the dwarf: "It's great that you want to deal with thee bandits, but other than them, I wouldn't consider these parts lawless, more like lands for the independent kind, the ones that want nothing to do with Brevic politics, so don't be tryin' to bring government down here! I left New Svetland for a reason and cam down here and founded this trading post, all on my own, when everyone thought I was crazy. So I don't want to get rid of the bandit tax so I can pay a Swordlords tax! Especially the way the Swordlords are treatin' me!"
Lana tries to calm Oleg down, "There, there, Oleg, you get so excited when you talk politics, remember your heart!" Oleg grunts and stays quiet.
Lana continues, looking at the board on her wall: "The bandits are due here on the morn in 2 days' time. If you promise to deal with them, we'll give you free room and board, with meals." She looks hopeful at your responses.
Cale was distracted mostly by the good food. If we were closer to my estate, I'd try to get this woman into my kitchen at home. He nods wordlessly as Silstaren informs him that this Kressle is the same that killed his father. "Unfortunately, Master Oleg, it isn't up to you. You've done fine here, and it's obvious that you've done it on your own, but that makes the crimes committed by these thieves even worse. They could have made the same healthy, productive choices as you. Instead they have become scavengers, and it is in this kind of environment that a scavenger is allowed to thrive. We won't be erecting monuments to Abadar any time soon, but this land will be put to order, starting with these hyenas that seem so desperately in need of a stretched neck." He fixes the traders with a serious look. "In two days' time, we will repay your hospitality with justice. There will be no magister or headsman escorted in from the city, or juries of any kind. These men will die, and that will be that." He digs back into his food, stuffed but still glancing at the pot to see if there's more. "My compliments to our hosts." He grins and winks at Lana, patting his belly. "I think I may like it on the frontier."
Garyn leans back from the table, pleasantly full, and once again nods his thanks to Lana. After Cale's speech, he addresses Oleg directly.
"Aye, Master Oleg, the boy does speak true. We have no desire to infringe on yer setup down here. In fact, I think you're trading post here is fantastic. Regardless of what ye think, ye yerself brought some civilization down here when ye set up shop. I can see there is no love lost between ye and the noble class, and on that I can agree, no offense Master Cale, but we're here to help, even if we didn't know it until right now.
"I guess what I'm saying is that for me own part, I'll help you in two days time."
Strovan chuckles slightly, "Oh sorry if you read more into what I said than what I really ment. Our goal isn't to be making some sort of kingdom down here, tis just to try and make the lives easier on the folks who live here. Part of doing that involves mapping the area, finding out who does live here and if they be honest folks such as yerselves we won't change your lives any cept for trying to get rid of the dishonest ones."
He sits forward and his eyes suddenly get more intense. "Now on to what needs doing. If they come here I promise they will find more than they ever bargained for assuming that is all right with you two. If ye'ed rather not have your place involved in the killing of bandits we can make other arrangements and ambush them either on their to or from here. But I do think your trading post would be the perfect place for us to set up an ambush. Though I'd have to say Garyn, Cale, and Silstaren would be better ambush planners than myself."
Cale shrugs at Garyn's comment, taking no offense. "Describe to us how they go about collecting from you. The first time isn't important, the rest are. What do they expect, and how does the process go?"
Silstaren lapses back into silence while he slowly eats. He watches each person carefully as they speak as if trying to glean every dram of meaning from their words.
Greehr takes a tentative taste of the stew and grimaces. While everyone was busy talking, he manages to secret the smallest pinch of saltpeter into his bowl. He tries another taste. Better. Marginally. Perhaps a dash of pepper..
You wouldn't have an alchemy lab here, would you?" He asks suddenly, seemingly oblivious to the serious discussion on politics around him.
"In two days' time, we will repay your hospitality with justice. There will be no magister or headsman escorted in from the city, or juries of any kind. These men will die, and that will be that." He digs back into his food, stuffed but still glancing at the pot to see if there's more. "My compliments to our hosts." He grins and winks at Lana, patting his belly. "I think I may like it on the frontier."
Oleg smiles when he hears Cale's words. "Good then, it is settled, when the scum come in 2 day's time, you will kill them like the whore's sons that they are. That's some good frontier justice there! I don't care where you kill 'em, in my post or out in the woods, as long as they meet your swords! Anything we can do to help, let us know."
"I can see there is no love lost between ye and the noble class, and on that I can agree, no offense Master Cale, but we're here to help, even if we didn't know it until right now.
"I guess what I'm saying is that for me own part, I'll help you in two days time."
Lana nods appreciatively, "Thank you, thank you all for helping. I'm so happy there are still people out there who care for the common folk!"
Cale shrugs at Garyn's comment, taking no offense. "Describe to us how they go about collecting from you. The first time isn't important, the rest are. What do they expect, and how does the process go?"
Lana speaks for the couple: "Since we usually have the gate open for travelers and trappers, the cloaked leader and one thug walk in and knock on our house door. The other two wait by the gate. I give them a pouch filled with gold coins (no less than 50 gp or else we get hurt is what they said), while Oleg brings any furs and rations that we have. We give it to them and they leave. It's over in less than 30 seconds."
Silstaren considers the terrain and the numbers. "It would be best if we could get them all inside somehow. It would make things less chancy than chasing them over the open countryside. But we still need enough men inside to make sure Oleg and Lana are safe."