(Back-posting)

Ortlieb scuffed his feet in the dirt along the road, feeling the ground connect to him. Although it was nothing like the soft yielding loam of jungle that he was used to, he felt it to be sturdy beneath him, a solid platform upon which to build something. He ground his bare foot into the packed earth, enjoying the pressure beneath it. He felt it could support him as a giant could support a gnat, so easily that it was unthinkable that anything could disrupt the solidarity under him.

Ortlieb looked up from his lower appendages when he sensed a movement. Quickly he ascertained it was Sylvia by the cerulean bob of her head. She seemed to be lost in thought while slowly winding her way back to the main road. Ortlieb moved out to meet her and heard her softly humming. He almost hesitated, not wishing to disturb her when she was obviously enjoying her time alone in the peace of undisturbed nature. His brain steered him rationally though, and he realized it would be ridiculous to leave her alone since they were obviously in sight of each other now. It might even be regarded as intentional avoidance if he turned around, an idea that was opposite to Ortlieb's original intention. Instead he straightened himself from his uncertain slouch and called out:

"Sylvia, you said?" He came to a distance from which he would not have to shout. "I, I wish to tell you I'm sorry." The half-orc lowered his body in a gesture of mild contriteness. "I didn't mean to ignore you at the inn. I just wanted to hear the discussion regarding the bandits. That does not excuse my actions and I hope you won't let it darken your thoughts of me." His apology attempted, Ortlieb concluded with the fulfillment of his neglected duties. "I am Ortlieb Vrinak. I am gratified to meet with such friendliness as you showed me."

((Backpost, responding to Ortlieb.)

Sylvia stopped and blinked pulling herself from her mind, visions of sugar plums were not dancing in her head. She had been reflecting on what had transpired and was letting the taste settle in her mouth so to speak, with the abrupt, but not unwelcome approach of Ortlieb she felt rather taken aback. "You have no need to apologize to me Ortlieb, it is I who should be sorry and I am. I brushed you off in order to put forth my thoughts on the plans, and ignored you that was wrong. I am sorry." She smiled kindly and lifted him so he was no longer lowered. She leaned up and kissed his cheek gently.

"You have shown me much more kindness then most of the others here, the only other one being Junn, and I hope my actions...and what I showed...won't reflect negatively on me." She cringed a bit out of habbit, but in such a way as if she was expecting to be struck by something, when nothing hit she quickly regained her composure and brushed it aside. "Your not like the others, neither is your large cuddly friend. May I ask what he is and, what you are?" She titled her head a bit, her eyes showing curiosity and her voice holding hesitatance. She didn't wish to intrude or step on any toes that might be sensative around the question she asked. She liked Ortlieb, felt comforatable around him and more at ease then she did with the others.

“May I have this dance?”

The short half-elf with the Tian features launched into a whirl before the bandit’s eyes. Had she any presence of mind to register anything beyond the shock of the sudden attack, she might have reflected that this was by far the queerest ambush she’d ever had the occasion to be part of.

She was quickly brought to her sense, however, as the short woman’s knife licked out suddenly and nicked a scar out of her leathers, but barely, luckily, left her unscathed.

The same, however, could not be said for her ally, even as fortunate as he was in the end. He cursed loudly, dropping his own furs as an arrow appeared without warning jutting out of his thigh, not too deep but painful enough. (-2 dmg) Sordin chided himself on the poor shot and notched his bow again, but he let the shot fly prematurely, and the arrow merely dropped from his bow, sticking out of the wooden walkway. He was not impressed with his performance this morning.

Junn returned the hooded bandit’s defiant sneer with his own dispassionate, odd-eyed stare as he loomed over him. The hooded bandit’s attitude quickly changed when Junn’s cold steel split a gouge through his armour, drawing a bloody line across his belly. He’d received enough wounds to know this one wasn’t going to be fatal . . . yet . . . but it wasn’t far off. (-5 Damage, HB is bloodied)

Knowing that this man needed to be taken alive, Junn reigned in his lusts for a moment and force himself to move on to a different target. He turned away from the panting leader of this pathetic crew, and found himself new prey to corner.

From his hidden vantage point right next to the fighting, Lloyd had the best view for what happened next. The leading bandit, still clutching his wound with one hand, drew one of the flasks from his belt. With a glare for the sorceress in the stable, he pulled his arm back and pitched the emergency measures at Sylvia.

The flask sailed over Sylvia’s head and landed on the floor just behind her, bursting with the sound of shattering glass, splashing only a small amount of the contents on her.

That was the last composed thought she had, however, as the volatile liquid immediately ignited upon exposure to the open air, covering a section of floor with alchemical flames that were quickly picked up by the bits of straw laying over the floor. Briefly, cognition gave way to the primal fear of wildfire.

Sylvia herself, outside of the centre of the splash only suffered minor burns where the oil landed on her clothes and skin and puttered out as soon as it has started, unlike the blaze that was beginning to take form in the stable.

One of his two targets hit, the hooded man fled the scene, drawing his bow as he made for the gate.

“Thorn River to me! Regroup!”


Aria - Dervish Dancing
Lloyd – Delaying*
Sylvia – 5/6 (slightly singed)

HB: Bloodied
B1: Injured
B2: Uninjured
B3: Bloodied

(Ortlieb and Sylvia may now post. Ortlieb is up next in initiative order. The fire is fairly small right now, but if steps are not quickly taken to smother it, it could become a serious problem. Claptrap is just about to start freaking out in there, by the way, but he’s still locked in his stall.)

(If you don't know what to do about putting out the fire, check in the Q&A and I'll see if I can't help brainstorm some.)

Too tired to add fire to the map yet tonight, but you'll have it soon enough, methinks. (EDIT: The Map has its fire. Its about to get much less, though it remains an an issue)

Oh, and while I'm at it, keep up the good RP Sly and Ortlieb

*Delayed: There are two main ways you can choose to wait to act later. One way is a READY ACTION, for which you prepare an action that you wish to perform on a specific trigger ("I shoot the first person that comes through the door") where you interrupt the initiative order at the time of the trigger. The other is what Lloyd is doing, a DELAY ACTION, simply choosing to forgo your turn until such a time you decide to leap back into initiative, which then becomes your new position.

For reasons that should be pretty clear, in play-by-post the way we are doing, these aren't particularly simple affairs and you want to work closely with the GM for the round.
EDIT: Alright, I added Sordin's little parade of first-round failure (poor guy). The map is next to come.

((Battle post. Back post when Ortlieb posts for it.))

Sylvia shrieked as she felt the sudden burst of heat and flame behind her. Singed and startled she dashed forward and took a glance back to see the stables buring. She skidded to a stop and turned facing the fleeing hooded man. "That wasn't very nice!" She called, gritting her teeth she balled her fist another magic missle appearing in it. "NO ESCAPE!" She roared and punched it forward, sending it straight into the hooded bandit. Again she readied herself, her eyes focused on the hooded man and the rest of the bandits.

(Back post)

Ortlieb had been expecting perhaps a bit of coldness on the part of Sylvia, if not outright disdain. He had not been expecting physical contact whatsoever, as most preferred to maintain a fair distance from him, but a kiss... He'd started slightly as he realized what she was doing, lifting him from his posture with delicate fingers. Surprised by even that much, he was completely taken aback when he saw her stretch up and felt the soft pressure of her lips upon his face.

He was so astonished that he didn't hear the first she said after that, but he took control of himself again to hear her questions regarding Ramathu. She stated the obvious in recognizing him as different, but it was perhaps better acknowledged than avoided.

He cleared his throat, so as not to embarrass himself with a shaking voice and replied: "We were both a little rough-mannered, then. It is forgotten. My companion is called Ramathu. He is a young ape, a gorilla, from the Mwangi jungles. He is like my brother and we have journeyed far together. You can meet him when we return if you want. He likes to meet new people." Ortlieb paused as his mind came to her next question. He was accustomed to people asking what Ramathu was, but they rarely bothered to inquire after him, except perhaps in attempts to distinguish how much disgust they should be expressing.

"I am a half-orc," he said simply. The word itself contained enough associations that he felt he did not need to explain further. His curiosity was aroused, however, and given they were exchanging information he dared himself to ask, "You are not so usual either. May I ask how you have such brightly coloured hair?"

---

(Present time)

Ortlieb, standing ready before the man that Ramathu had attacked, heard the sharp shatter of glass and smelled both the chemicals released and the quick aggressive scent that arises from flames and straw when placed together. Swiftly came after the scream of Sylvia, whom he knew had been hidden in the stables. Concern for both the woman and the horse housed in the structure rose in him and directed his actions. Letting Ramathu continue to barrage the bandit, Ortlieb turned his attention. The fire could not be allowed to spread, not with the poor creature trapped inside, and not with the bandits trying to escape. He only hoped he could do enough.

He ran for the stables, drawing his concentration together upon the building as he feet pounded on the dirt. He felt the ground strong beneath him and even in these lands, dryer than the jungles he grew up in, he could feel the moisture pervading the earth. Using it to help draw up the spell he needed, Ortlieb stopped by the door of the stables, seeing the beginnings of the flames starting to spread. Intoning the words with a voice deep with both power and anger, Ortlieb drew forth a surge of water and directed it toward the source of danger.

Sylvia blinked and furrowed her brow a faint blush coming to her cheeks at the question and what Ortlieb had stated he was. "I'm sorry, I'm not familiar with half-orcs, or orcs that matter. I have heard of them but I never saw, or read much about them. Are you treated badly because of it?" She asked and smiled warmly again. "And in answer to your question, you saw my fangs earlier, I'm not able to keep them exposed for long nor am I sure of their source. All I know is I have had a strong affinity for magic since I was born, I've also been able to communicate, or at the very least, have animals understand me as if I was speaking their own tongue. Particularily snakes and other such reptiles." Sylvia sighed and chuckled a bit darkly.

"I don't even know my proper last name, or who my parents really were. I have adopted the name of 'Serpentborn' in accordance with the features of a freak I exhibit." Anger rose and it shone in her voice, she was looking down and to the side, not wishing to meet the eyes of Ortlieb, she didn't want to look at them and see what she always saw when discussing this, contempt. "You probably think less of me, everyone did...not anymore." She sighed heavily again and felt the anger subside into sorrow and anguish. She raised her head and met Ortlieb's eyes. "If you do, please don't tell me. Your one of the few people I have met who hasn't tried to hurt me, hasn't degraded me, and hasn't only been kind to me to get into my pants. I respect you greatly Ortlieb, and, if you are treated badly for being a half-orc. I will not let that stand." She bowed deeply to him, Sylvia had adopted Ortlieb has an older brother at that moment.

A small, roiling ball of water the size of a fist swelled into existence above Ortlieb’s hand as he roughly intoned the words to the spell. With a flick he launched it into the burning stable directly at the main body of the hungry newborn flames.

The ball exploded where it touched the ground, bursting into a wave which immediately crashed upon itself, dousing the centre of the fire and soaking the ground beneath it with a great angry hiss. Magic was simply not fighting fair, the blaze seemed to rage.

The fire was not the only victim of the violent splash, though. Sylvia suffered a small spray from her proximity to the crashing wave, though she could not say she minded particularly the sprinkling.

The alchemic oil had managed to cover more ground than Ortlieb’s spell, and small ground fires remained in a ring around the broken glass, though these flames were far less of a threat. Nevertheless, they would need to be dealt with sooner rather than later.

At least one of the bandits, meanwhile, did not hesitate to take advantage of the diversion. Even left alone with only Ramathu to face, the man was eager to leap at his master’s call… as far from the monstrosity that confronted him as he could muster.

He withdrew* quickly, reeling backward almost tripping over the bench seat to escape the gorilla. He got his feet back under him as he came off the bench on the other side, and gave the ape a wide berth as he ran to his superior’s side.

The other two thugs were not so lucky, though trapped between dancing Aria and looming Junn, the table blocking each of them from making a clean getaway. They had no choice but to fight a through the ambushers.

They both drew their short swords and attacked. The woman lunged directly at Aria, but the whirling girl was no stranger to combat. She twisted away from the blade adeptly, turning a more serious wound into a superficial scratch across her arm (-3 dmg Aria).

Back to back with them, Junn was surprised with the ferocity of the proverbial cornered rat. The man’s stroke was inexpertly thrown, but it was reinforced with the strength of desperation and barely slipped past the elf’s guard, cutting a painful gash from his navel around his side. Junn was not accustomed to being surprised by anything. The man’s life would soon be forfeit.

Sylvia, spurred by flame, water, and anger, leapt from the stables, drawing on her serpentborn talent again. There was business to settle.

“That wasn’t very nice!” The energy of the spell sprung to life in her fist with an arcane word.

The hooded bandit started to turn, bringing up his bow and reaching for an arrow at the same time.

“No escape!”

This time the magical bolt struck the hooded leader dead centre in the chest with its full force behind it. The blast half-threw him off his feet, landing sprawled on the ground two feet back of where he started. He wasn’t going to be getting up anytime soon. With luck, he wasn’t yet beyond the help of medical or magical aid. He seemed tough, though, while he lasted. (-6 dmg HB [dying]).

The thug who came to his side, however, was looking less bold by the second. On top of that, Ramathu was less than satisfied with letting Sylvia have the last word. He careened into the bandit with all his small monkey-mass before he could have a chance to flee up the stairs and out of the fort. The bandit gave way and fell as his leader did from the collected force of the blows dealt to him (-4 dmg, B-3 dying)

Oleg didn't waste a moment one either of them when he heard the panicked whinnies of his horse inside the stable. By now the smell of the smoke was beginning to spread from the half-doused blaze. He ran into the stables without a second thought, glanced from the horse to the small licks of flame regrouping around the bits of straw and at once began to stamp them out.


Aria – 6/9 (cut on arm) Dancing
Junn – 3/8 (slash across abdomen)
Lloyd – Delaying*
Ramathu - Charge**
Sylvia – 5/6

HB: Down, dying.
B1: Injured
B2: Uninjured
B3: Bloodied

(The fire is much less of an issue now, though it will still need to be put out sooner rather than later. You can walk over the spaces with the ground-fire without being damaged currently. They're still weak from the torrent, but once they start to grow again, they will begin to spread to other squares and grow into larger blazes.)

(The two remaining bandits look much less confident in their chances at survival, with two of their number dead. If they could be anywhere else right now, you can be sure they'd love to be there. As it stands, they both appear uncertainly ready to fight back, but 'escape' or 'surrender' don't seem to be far from their minds.)

As ever, your faithful MAP. If you didn't get a chance to see the half-round updated map, don't worry, you didn't miss too much.

*Withdraw: As a full-round action you can WITHDRAW to move up to double your speed (no more than you could normally in two move actions, that is), not counting the square you started in toward movement that triggers attacks of opportunity. Any threatened squares you cross provoke AoO as normal.

**Post-charge: Just a short note, here, not a description of the charge attack. After making a charge attack, your AC is temporarily lowered by 2 as you regain your footing after the rush.

S***! Lloyd thought to himself as he saw a orb of energy blast into the hooded one’s chest. Things are getting too out of hand! The point of this plan was to keep the bandits alive for interrogation, not to kill them. And the leader of all of them was desired alive, as he would assumedly have the most valuable information! Lloyd had intended to dart out and attack whomever left themselves open, but now it was time to break out the medical equipment.

There was a problem with this: he left his medical equipment in the guest house! Lloyd had assumed people would take precautions to not kill the leader, but it was evident that such an assumption was foolish with this crowd. Leaving the shelter of the shadows, Lloyd dashed out of the warehouse without warning to the others. He would dash to retrieve his medical gear and then do his best to keep the hooded man alive. He would also try to attended to the other that had his head smashed in by the ape, but he was second on the list, and if others fell, he would probably get pushed down further on this list.

OOC: Lloyd will go and grab his medical kit and surgical kit from the guest house, and then head over to the Hooded Man. Lloyd still has his knife in hand just in case, but I doubt he will be using it for this encounter.

(Havnt posted in the longest time this is sorta a bp and sorta not just mainly a filler post since the mighty GM already knows my next move this whole post is Junn talking to himself and thinking)

*night before assult*

The fort had grown quiet aside from small murmers or the sound of wildlife Junn layed on his bed stareing at thhe ceiling sleep could not find him his mind was filled with the thought of the events to follow playing through plans in his head his first objective would be to attack their leader his blade craved blood and he could think of no one better for the time to quench its thirst, he wouldnt kill him but enough to wound him, if he wasnt needed it would be a different story. He would then move to one of the underlings and with luck his party could handle not killing the leader in his absence.

"You think you'll be ok, think you can handle this fight"
"You think I wont be able to"

"No no I have the utmost confidence in you, I just remember what happened last time"
"I did what I had to"

"They were defenceless orphans"
"An unfortunate consequence I had to clense the building"

"You just wanted to watch them burn"
"..."

"Wonder who will be first the half breed, the old couple, the "doctor", the man of virtue maybe your little firend"
"If it has to be it has to be"

"Your dad beat that into you good didnt he"
"...The leader first, then the underlings I wont kill anyone we need them

"We will see"
Silence returned and finally sleep, Junn woke eairly and entering the courtyard began to practice his swordplay flexing and warming up his body, muscles and mind, after a small breakfast he spent the remaining time sharpening his blade and focusing only on his plans. He moved into the stables with Syl remaining deathly silent the whole time only focused on his goals if Syl had said anything he never heard it, every moment passed with each seconding his body trembling slightly excited for combat for the smell of blood and the screams of pain then, the signal he lunged from the stables eyes fixed on the hooded bandit, Syl shot a burst hiting him Junn took the chance and attacked, in his eagerness not landing as good as a blow as hoped but good enough to do what needed. Junn then turned his attention to one of the other bandits, in his haste he ended up taking a large gash to his stomach not even flinching and only becomming enraged.

"Remember stay calm, dont wannt kill anyone Junny boy"
" SCREW IT! "

NOW WE CAN HAVE SOME FUN!!

(Back Post)

Ortlieb was taken-aback. Everyone knew of orcs, if only as stories and not fact because they'd never seen one. But stories abounded with all the gruesome details never left out. Half-orcs were not the most common, but the possibility still existed. That this young woman had never before encountered any such creatures in pursuing an adventuring lifestyle seemed incredible. Perhaps she'd not being doing this long.

A quiet snort could not be stopped when Sylvia asked if he'd been treated badly because of his heritage. The poor girl really didn't know about orcs, nor, apparently, about their reputation. But he held his tongue as she recounted a brief tale of her own unusual background. It seemed she was a sorcerer of some type. Ortlieb had some small knowledge of their kind. His mentor, who'd taught him the ways of the druids, had from time to time mentioned other users of magic and how they and their methods differed from the druidic. Sylvia's cerulean hair and fangs made more sense when combined with the magical blood of a sorcerous line.

He understood her anger through, as raw as it was in her voice. Ortlieb had not known his father had no particular desire to, but the lack of a family was something he regretted. His mentor had long since passed and Ramathu was all that remained. He'd believed he'd grown into a sort of acceptance of his lot in life, thanks to his teacher, who'd regarded him as a person and not an abnormality. If doing so created order in the world, a more balanced nature in a person, Ortlieb believed it was something he should further. He would do the same.

"I do not think less of someone because of their origins. I have met with such hatred too many times myself and would not force it on others. You are not a freak, but merely a variation on one of Nature's many forms." He paused to gather his thoughts and looked kindly upon the small woman standing before him. "I thank you for your honesty and your honour. I would be glad to be defended by you." Ortlieb could not help but be reminded of the beginning of their conversation, when he had lowered himself to her and been raised as an equal. He did the same now, clasping her hands between his, enveloping them.

"It is getting late. It might be a good idea if we returned to the fort now, if you are feeling calmer," he spoke, referring both to her earlier upset at the discussion, as well as her evident discomfort from their current topic.

Sylvia smiled warmly at Ortlieb. "I suppose we should be getting back, today has been long and things will be interesting tomorrow to say the least. Goodluck to you tomorrow, I expect a proper introduction to your cuddly friend after." Sylvia said with much cheer and childish teasing, she meant no harm by it and in fact meant it in a comical manner although she wasn't one to burst ribs with laughter.

She made her way to the fort with Ortlieb, and after finding out what was what, she excused herself as politely as she could wishing the rest of the group luck and made her way to her intended sleeping spot. She took bed in the stables so as to be ready immediatly tomorrow, packing a good spot of hay and such for a bed and immediatly falling deep asleep.

((Rushed I know, but more character bonding and relationship building with the rest can occur. The day has been wrapped up, and I belive Sylvia has made a friend =D. ))

Lloyd watched from hiding as the two bandits dropped in quick succession for spell blast and wild animal mauling. Have these fools already forgotten the plan to take the bandits hostage? He couldn’t tell what condition the two were in from here. Nine Hells, didn’t anyone know what non-lethal force meant?

He stepped out of the storage hut and ran for his supplies in the guesthouse. He hadn’t imagined he would need them, but then, that’s just another thing to add to the list of things he hadn’t imagined happening today.

As Lloyd ran past the long table, on the other side Aria lashed out with her knife again. The bandit woman matched the blow, deflecting the kukri with her sword [-3 dmg]. A fierce grin crossed her lips just a second before Aria whipped around and struck again. This time she wasn’t fast enough to turn aside the strike. The knife bit a long, shallow gash across her stomach [-6 dmg].

The bandit woman gasped in pain and surprise, clutching at her abdomen with her free hand. She dropped to her knees and threw down her weapon. “I give,” she panted, “Mercy.”

Behind her the last man standing was looking ever more like he was remembering some urgent engagement elsewhere. He was not like to make his appointment, however. Junn raised his sword above his head, his odd-coloured yellow and white eyes seeming to burn with some inner flame, though perhaps that was a trick of the flickering in the stable behind him.

“At the end of fear . . .” he pronounced. The sword fell hard and fast, gouging the bandit from shoulder to arrow-wounded thigh [-9 dmg; down]. He collapsed to the ground with a scream of pain and lay dying in a growing pool of his own blood. “Oblivion.”

A pang in his side reminded him that he didn’t escape the fight totally unscarred himself, but that was okay; there was no one left standing to oppose them. Now they just had to be sure that enough lived to point out where the rest were hiding.

He figured it wouldn’t be too hard for him to extract the information himself, but he doubted there would be much appreciation for his methods. Oh well, the feisty lady Sylvia seemed able and willing to ‘encourage’ help out of the rapscallions.

(At about this point it occurred to me that with no battle left to be doing, the fire was all but already defeated, so there was no point in continuing round-by-round initiative other than to see if Lloyd saved the hooded bandit, something for which failure was impossible save by a dramatic comedy of errors that, as a side-effect, accidentally launched someone to the moon.)

Lloyd burst from the guesthouse moments later with his supplies in either hand. He saw the freshly wounded, but only mentally sighed to himself. At least the dancer girl had managed to keep one of them alive and not in dire need of resuscitation.

The two bodies by the gate, he saw upon approaching, were not as close to the threshold as he feared, he found. For the thug, he appeared to be in stable condition, and only scarcely mortally wounded, on the scale of such things. With rest and medical attention, he would live… provided he wasn’t executed for his crimes upon regaining consciousness, but then, that was up to him. The gallows were for unrepentant banditry, and there were entirely more useful punishments befitting the apologetic.

As for their leader, the hooded bandit, well . . . he was in considerably rougher condition, but with attention, he would be fine, too. The only fact remaining was the delivery of such attentions. He began at once bandaging the terrible sword wound. He had at least two cracked ribs that he could feel while working. The magical blasts to his torso would take a little while to recover from, he suspected.

While he was working he freed the man of many of his worldly possessions and set them aside—both for ease of medical care and to remove him of any weapons while he was their prisoner. Of particular note the man was wearing a silver necklace in the shape of a stag’s skull, and a second flask of the alchemist’s fire. He set them aside with the rest of his things (as detailed in the loots you’ll find up sooner or later in the Q&A).

Lloyd watched the man for signs that he was stabilizing, but his condition only continued to worsen. S***! Lloyd thought, this is what I get for a rush job! He took his time to adjust the bandages and be certain he took proper care with his work, and sure enough, the man’s breathing regulated.

Lloyd wiped the perspiration that was beginning to form on his brow. Ortlieb, crouching beside him had joined him while he was occupied, watching him finish off his work.

“The other one is good,” he pronounced with that voice of his rumbling up from the dark, craggy depths of Golarion.

In the middle of the market yard, Sylvia was quietly grinning like the proverbial cat that got the mouse as she quickly made up her plans. Admittedly, if snakes had any discernable facial expression, the proverb would have to be amended on her cause.

“Alright, let’s get started immediately, shall we? Oleg, may I borrow your office to interrogate the bandits? We can probably put the rest into the storage hut, once we’ve got them tied up.” As she spoke, Sordin moved on from binding the bandit woman to tying up the man Junn had felled, stripping them down to their clothing. Across the yard, Ortlieb was performing the same task for the other bandits.

“Sordin, I ask you to guard the door to the office. You can be best assured I won’t do anything you would find objectionable that way—don’t worry though, I just want to ask them nicely, after all,” she said, smiling just too wide to be normal. “Shall we be started? We’ll take them in order that they become conscious—if we’ve got the magic to do it, we can revive them when we need them.”

The bandit woman said nothing as she was lead into the office, seeming to be resigned to accept whatever chance she was given to avoid execution.

Almost as soon as she was seated, the woman asked, “What are you going to do with me?”

Sylvia said nothing for a moment, letting the silence sink into her prey. The woman wore rough, dirty clothes like the rest, enhanced by the recently bleeding wound across her stomach. She had a hard expression that told of the hardship she was accustomed to enduring and a bent in her nose, that must have been broken at least once.

If Sylvia was any judge, she had eaten passing well for the past while, too, lacking the pallor typical to the starving criminal. The position at the bandit camp clearly served her just well enough, it seemed. She briefly reflected on her new half-orc brother. Did orcs grow paler green when they were ill, she wondered? He had seemed so surprised that she had never seen an orc before. Maybe she would run into more in these regions?

She cut her train of thought off and returned to the present, where her prey was just nicely steeped in anticipation. Perfect.


Aria – 6/9
Junn – 3/8
Sylvia – 5/6

B1: Down, dying
B2: Staggered

HB: Down, dying
B3: Down, dying


(Admittedly, at this point I’m mostly assuming no one has any overt objections to the roles assigned to them (Sordin as guard, Ortlieb and Aria implicitly as magical healers) but feel free to talk about it, express opposing positions, roleplay the firefighting, or generally discuss things with each other while the sounds or screaming and begging for mercy don’t echo from the office. The only thing that is not up for negotiation is that Sylvia is determined to perform the interrogation herself and show her charms).

(Also *running back on older notes from beginning* don’t panic, Sylvia and Ortlieb, there’s no way either of you could have dealt non-lethal damage in the situation you were in (except maybe by calling off the attack, but that would be the opposite of the point), Lloyd’s just raving.)

(By the way, in case you were worrying too hard about the paladin’s code to keep the bandits safe, the penalty for unrepentant banditry is death. Assuming a trial is held for them, that is one threat that you can ably hang over their heads.)

*deletes final note to add to the Q&A, or risk a OoC section twice the length of the post in question*

Sylvia was seated with her elbows on the desk and her fingers tented, hiding her coy smirk and letting only the calm collected gleam of her eyes reveal anything. "A question for an answer, and an answer for a question. You and your ilk have been up to no good around here it appears. What we intend to do with you remains to be determined on a number of factors. How cooperative you are could very well spell the difference between the gallows, and your freedom." Sylvia said weighing each word carefully, and speaking slow enough so that the weight of each word sunk in immediatly after the one before it. She lowered her hands, her face neutral and completely devoid of emotion, she could give the best poker players a run for their money.

"I answered your question, you answer mine. Firstly I would like to know the names of everyone present in your group starting with your's followed by the hooded fellow. Secondly I want to know where you bring your ill gotten goods. Thirdly, I want to know if that is the same place you lot live, and if it isn't then tell me where you reside. When you answer more questions might arise." She finished, and a sadistic little smirk crossed her lips and her eyes narrowed slightly giving her a truly haunting look.

"If, you feel the need to lie or withhold information I have ways of finding out, I should also let you know that your choices are simple. Life, or death. Choose wisely." She chuckled a bit and raised an eyebrow. "But, I am getting ahead of myself, the posed questions I just raised will be answered by the end of our little talk. After your name we shall see if it is worth pursuing that venue or not." She tented her fingers again hiding her mouth, her eyes calculating and focused. Sylvia had always known how to talk to people and get what she desired, she relished any opportunity to exercise her charms.

"And at the end of fear..."

Junns blade hit with a satisfying slice and a loud scream from the bandit fear and pain filling his eyes a sadistic glee filling Junns

" Oblivion"
Junn withdrew his blade staeing at it for a moment gleaming with blood before raiseing it to his mouth and licking up it once closeing his eyes and savoring the metalic sweet taste for that moment the world was quiet and the pain was gone, he looked around at the fallen Lloyd fixing up the hooded bandit and alike it angered him that he would not be allowed to extract the information himself he glared slightly to the Knight trying to act as though it was mearly from pain from his wound and not the deep contempt.

Junn made his way over to the tables his wound now slightly more evident to him as the pain truely began to set in he had been through worse but it was pain all the same he sat at the tables leaning back slightly and looking at the gash on his body and allowing the pain to set in, in full a gleeful smile running along his face and he leaned his head back to stare at the sky.

The woman sat at attention in her bonds, her demeanour serious. She knew her life may be hanging on her cooperativeness, and maybe even the value of her answers.

“I—,” she cleared her throat. “My name is Tanya. The hooded fellow is Kressle’s lieutenant, Happs. The other two are Niko and Stefan, who was attacked by your pet.”

“We all come from our camp just at the ford across the Thorn River. That’s where we keep everything we get from the fort, but we send a portion of our loot further south to a man Kressle calls the Stag Lord. I don’t know anything about him, though. Only a handful of us have ever even seen him, but I think Kressle’s the only one who’s actually met him from our camp.”

“We gather at the camp when we’re not out on our own business.”

(By the way, I am remiss to have forgotten Junn’s blade-lick. I completely skipped that part of his action XD)

(I’ve answered all the questions here, but if you want to explore deeper into one question, I’ve provided gaps where Sylvia could interject.)