Adelror listened intently as Bailox interrogated the prisoner, focused upon the facial expressions and body language of the filth that had helped cause so much grief among the innocents.

He had noticed the sly wink from Bailox, informing the Duskarn Cleric of Dareen that the mighty warrior was merely bluffing, but the War Cleric would rather his comrade were not bluffing!

However, the bandit's scream when Bailox gave the shaft of the arrow a small twist, was more to his liking, a small price to pay for the deaths and injuries inflicted upon those the adventurers had so recently rescued from harm!

"Now, you will tell us: why did you take these people? Who put you up to it? Where can we find them? How large a force do we face? What sort of defenses do they have? Answer now, and answer truthfully, or before this day is done you shall beg me for a thousand deaths."
As the bandit responded to Bailox, the Duskarn silently, without changing his grim expression, analyzed every reaction to each of the questions.

Once Bailox had finished and stepped aside, the War Cleric of Dareen stepped forward with a far more menacing look than Bailox had posed a few moments earlier!

Adelror the Avenger made a thoughtful gesture with his sword, waving it slowly in the face of the bandit, before resting its point below the throat of the bandit, having absorbed the answers in response to the questions levied by Bailox.

"Now What Can You Tell Me About Your Victims? Especially the One Who Escaped Your Clutches? The One Named Ellice!"
Adelror thrust his face forward almost nose to nose towards the bandit, slightly leaning upon his sword as he did so, allowing the point of his sword to make a slight cut on the bandits exposed skin!

After giving a detailed description of Ellice, the War Cleric of Dareen lifted his sword and drove the pommel against the forehead of the captive bandit, then grimaced with a slight satisfaction, while the Duskarn awaited the response from the bandit, allowing him a few moments to compose himself for a proper answer!

Desrik remained standing over the fallen bandit, his head nearly severed. But it was not pride or happiness that filled him, but rather, anger. Anger at himself. Had his skills really declined to the point of being wounded by a common bandit? To requiring help from a magic user?
Before the Unity, this never would have happened. Desrik had always been proud, having less scars than most of his profession through his tactical swordplay and deft footwork.
So focused on self loathing was he, that he hardly noticed the battle reaching a decline, and Bailox and the small, belligerent fellow taking down and dragging back a prisoner. So focused on this was he that he didn't notice the strange events concerning the woman, Ellice, nor if the prisoners had even been successfully rescued.

It was only the out-cry of the captive thug that brought the lithe mercenary to his senses. After a glance around, he sheathed his long sword, seeing the battle was over. And with this realization, and subsiding of adrenaline, the pain in his leg throbbed with renewed pain.
Cursing quietly, he made his way, limping, to the two interrogators, remaining several feet back as he watched the interrogation. It was an interesting strategy, conducting the questioning with two people, but that wasn't what caught Desrik's attention.
The big man's truthfulness may have wrecked the whole thing. If this bandit was at all like Desrik, the promise of a quick death for cooperation would only drive him to hysterics, and possibly hostility.

Desrik considered this. Was that part of a truly moral man's honor code? Did people accuse him of being without honor because he was willing to lie, and knew how to do it well? Perhaps... And he had to admit, it felt unhonorable to kill the man he had when the man was blinded by magics. Yet if he were to do it again, he knew it would be the same.
Silently deciding to contemplate it later, perhaps over a pint and a bowl of stew, he focused on the others of the group. He had been wrong about the wizard. The man had shown courage, even if he didn't directly duel anyone. Desrik supposed there were many kinds of courage, even with lack of swordplay skills.
Looking to the half-breed, he also understood him more. A druid. Though mysterious by nature, The educated mercenary understood their basic roles in life, and now saw him as less a threat. After all, Desrik made no affronts against nature...

Finally, Desrik eyed the warriors next to him, big and small. Both fierce in battle, both morally sound, and both in the service of good. They were Desrik's biggest threat. However, the Mercenary still assumed Bailox was the most dangerous, and was glad he had had the chance to be friendly. He would keep the barbarian an ally if he could manage it.
The sight of the defeated gnoll only galvanized Desrik's decision. Still, first things first.....

Sitting down and propping his leg up a bit, he ripped a strip from his nationless tunic, and bound the wound. Though it would not help for long, it would slow the bleeding until he could get better help.

((Alright, im back, and just want to say im quite pleased with Tek's NPCing of Desrik. Thanks GM! ))

Deysor Twenty-Fourth, 1121
One Hour South of Graffton, Irvala Province
Brandost
To all but the most resolute, the towering presence of Bailox Steelbringer standing over one’s already injured form would be sufficient to shatter the nerves. Compounded by the savage threats of the brutish warrior and a twist of the arrow, the eruption of pain was too much for the thug to bear, and anguish-stained words were quick to pour from his lips.

“We didn’t even know them! Those folks were wanderin’ the wrong road on the wrong day. An’ it might not be the most honest way to live, but you got your ways an’ we got ours!” Though it was heavily torn by the flares of agony at the hands of Bailox, the man’s gruff accent suggested a life in the south, local, perhaps, to the city of Mahlport. “I swear to the gods new an’ old that its the truth. Its just the gang of us, an’ you already slew or sent running the rest of the boys.”

Adelror then stepped forward, menacing the supine bandit with his sword point, and adding a few demands of his own, these not of the nature of the gang themselves, but of the prisoners.

The expressions on the man’s face gave nothing away, though the press of cold steel against the delicate flesh of the throat brought more fear into his eyes. “When you live on the bottom rung of life like we do, you don’t get choosy when folks wander your roads. Family of three is easy pickins, generally. But three is all there was! Wasn’t no fourth one to get away.” Adelror’s one-eyed stare held the thug’s gaze in a most unsettling way, and he pressed his weapon a little harder, drawing a trickle of blood down the man’s throat. “I’m tellin’ you!”

At that, the dwarf pulled his blade away and took a short step in close to slug him atop the skull with his sword pommel. An audible clack accompanied a good view of the white’s of his eyes as they unfocused and rolled about in their sockets. Either too much force had been applied, or his already injured state lowered his pain tolerance to the degree that the cleric had easily knocked him out, but whichever be, their captive fell flat with a dull thud.

Silence held for a moment or two before a ripping sound came from behind the interrogators, where Desrik had seated himself on the snow and began to tear makeshift bandages from his tunic, wadding and wrapping to stop the bleeding from his injured side. Through it all, the swordsman had sat and observed in quiet contemplation, his calculating mind analyzing both his companions and his adversaries alike, though none so critically as the way he looked upon himself.

Peace was good for folks as a people, but not necessarily good for all folks, as the stinging from beneath his compress indicated to him. His skills needed honing, just as a good blade did. Whether organized or not, with goons like these roaming the grasslands, it would be easy enough for somebody of his skill set to find work. Roads needed guarding, after all.

Now, whether the brigand had been truthful throughout the extraction process or not, he lay unconscious on the cold ground, and the question lay in just what was to be done with him. Left alone, it was likely he would die from the elements, or possibly be eaten by wolves or some other flatland predator. Ja’aron had made an unknown amount of ground in his escape with the captives, and their safekeeping was, ultimately, what they had agreed to partake in. While Graffton was easily reachable before the coming of night, and the camp that the group had just broken up was evidence that, even in peace times, safety was not to be found everywhere.

(OOC: Sorry for the great delay. Work conditions now have me with what appears to be more free time, so I should be able to pick things up some on my end.

Desrik has managed to stop his bleeding, but isn’t in position to be recovering any HP from it. He’ll need bed rest or somebody to treat it.

Bandit is unconscious, and can either be left, dragged along, or killed. Due to his fragility, it would be near impossible to flop on a kill, so if somebody goes for it, feel free to go all the way. Approved death.

Duncan is still on hiatus, so I will continue to RP Bailox from here-on until further notice. For the rest of you, we’re back!)

Now, whether the brigand had been truthful throughout the extraction process or not, he lay unconscious on the cold ground, and the question lay in just what was to be done with him. Left alone, it was likely he would die from the elements, or possibly be eaten by wolves or some other flatland predator. Ja’aron had made an unknown amount of ground in his escape with the captives, and their safekeeping was, ultimately, what they had agreed to partake in.
Adelror knew the importance of reuniting with Ja'aron and his escort of captives as soon as possible; for there were still possible unknown dangers, especially with the as yet unsolved mystery of Ellice!

They would only be delayed by the now unconscious brigand, and the Duskarn knew that every fleeting moment that passed trying to decide what to do with this new burden, was like precious gold drifting away in uncertain dreams!

Multiple possibilities crowded the Dareen War Cleric's mind, but from deep within the hidden recesses of his darkest memories, as the pent up rage from the slaughter of defenseless innocents crowded its way to the forefront of his consciousness, the screams from long ago that came from the Orc Slave Pens needed to be silenced and avenged once more!

Adelror realized that the bandit would only slow them down, having outlasted his usefulness, thus putting the captives in perhaps further danger!

The Dareen War Cleric raised his sword above his head, listened one last time to the screams from so long ago, before guiding his blade with a swift stroke of judgment upon the bandit's exposed throat, in an effort to sever the head from the body!

Adelror quickly turned to his companions, instructing them to leave the carcass as a sign of warning to any other would-be brigands who may be lurking in the area!

"Even The Buzzards Need To Eat Fresh Vermin!"
OOC: Adelror spits upon the dead man, before heading in the direction of Ja'aron and the fleeing captives, at a pace that quickens to keep the Dareen War Cleric from falling too far behind his longer legged companions!

Desrik watched the short but fierce man as he executed the unconscious prisoner, raising an eyebrow. While the killing itself had not effected him, he had expected Bailox to at least say something about the cold-blooded slaying of an unarmed opponent.
Granted, said helpless man had only recently helped in the falling apon and slaying of several unarmed people, so morally, Desrik had nothing to say. Still... to think, one day he might have to face the half-man's wrath.
The mercenary shivered a bit. There was no way to know who would come out the victor... And that was more of a chance than he wanted to take.
Deciding to shift his thoughts to the matter of Ellice, focusing on the more immediate problem, he still decided that he would have to be prepared to even the playing field.
....Even meaning make sure he had the advantage, should the half-man ever decide that Desrik was no better than the dead man at his feet.
Speaking up for the first time in the past while, the lithe mercenary suddenly asks in a low voice, "Is there anyone I can owe a drink to in exchange for some healing? I seem to have gotten a scratch."
Smiling at his attempt at a joke, he tries to focus on not showing the weariness he felt from his wound.

Speaking up for the first time in the past while, the lithe mercenary suddenly asks in a low voice, "Is there anyone I can owe a drink to in exchange for some healing? I seem to have gotten a scratch."
Smiling at his attempt at a joke, he tries to focus on not showing the weariness he felt from his wound.
Adelror looked back over his shoulder at his wounded companion, Desrik, muttering something under his breath to his deity Dareen, before turning back with a grim visage!

The Duskarn War Cleric wasted no time in extending his hand with a heart-felt plea for the healing power to flow and revive the wounded bladesman!

Then with a glare to emphasize the need to overtake the former captives, in case some unknown foe was stalking their trail, the dwarf motioned his comrades to attend to the task at hand, looking back momentarily to say to Desrik:

"Not Interested In A Drink From Ye! Just Yer Stout Heart With Yer Strong Blade In Battle!"
OOC: Adelror resumes his quick pace to rejoin Ja'aron and the fleeing captives, knowing full well that his other two companions will leave his short legs in the dust, if he fails to make haste!