2: Beer, Breakfast and Bandits

The apartments within the keep at Nashkel were quaint but accommodating. Luckily, they were just large enough to house our group comfortably. Damaia fell asleep rather quickly. The others stirred a while longer before settling in. I fell into a comfortable sleep after a tankard of ale and was glad for it. It had been a long day. I was thankful to have crossed paths with Delgna and secured membership into the Western Heartlands Merchant Guild. Note to self, guild merchants apparently have little respect or understanding for the traveling merchant group the 'Oilers.' Best to mention my affiliation with them sparingly.

I met the morning bright-eyed and ready to start the day. Though, it appeared I was the last to wake. There was already shifting and shuffling around the room. My new companions had already begun preparing for the day. Conversation soon emerged: discussions on what was to be our agenda. I thought to myself, 'How strange it is, having met these people only days earlier. More strange was how quickly we'd been hoisted into the throws of travel and adventure.'

My mind drifted to Erdrich. I wondered if he had made it to Elturel safely. I hoped the letter I'd sent with him granted him safe harbor. Zed surely would have honored it. And Erdrich would keep him well stocked in ale. He was a quick study in the arts of brewing. Aloof as he was, he was studious in his endeavors. It was a shame that we had parted under such dire circumstances. I felt for the boy.

A knock came at the door and shook me from my thoughts.  Miresta, whom I believe to be a ranger, moved swiftly and answered it. A sure-footed guard filled the now ajar doorway. He cordially greeted her, hand extended, grasping what I could only discern as a letter. She quickly read it, tucked it away with little fanfare and closed the door.

Norah, Damaia and I quickly inquired about the letter's contents. We were met with dodgy silence and a stone-faced glare. We pressed no further. Though, I think it left us all with a sense of confusion and additional questions. Questions like: If she was traveling, who would know to find her here? And how would they have known to send the letter at this specific time? Had she told others of her travel plans? Had she known this was her destination?

I, personally, was a little surprised at the secretive nature of letter's contents, but her reaction seemed to fit what little I'd seen of her persona. She had been rather tight-lipped about her past when asked. To this point, she had remained mysteriously in the shadows, drawing little attention to herself.

I hope that with time, she will learn to trust in us. As I am sure is the case with her, I am still learning to trust in these people myself.

We'd heard of a local tavern, went by the name of The Screeching Goat, and decided to head there for some breakfast and conversation. When we entered, we were greeted sullenly by the local barkeep, Dern. I'm sure his sullenness had to do with the fact that we had showed up so early in the morning. And as per the time of day, the place was sparse with patronage. Dern however, was more than willing to serve me a couple of short beers for breakfast and top off my personal stash for the road.

Then down to business. We inquired about this rabble of bandits, the Ravens, and the general debauchery that followed them. Dern had little information to give. However, he did inform us that the Ravens seemed to be more resilient and organized than the other scrappers and derelicts that plagued the area.

When we inquired about breakfast, Dern offered to have food delivered to us as he didn't have a proper kitchen. Ales and Spirits were his only game. But rather than send Dern to the Wayward Rest, the local inn, for some breakfast, we all decided to head over there ourselves. We had hoped that we might have better luck in finding people to gather information about these bandits at the inn, where both breakfast and patronage might be more fruitful.

As we walked in, we were greeted by Acebar, who apparently owned and ran the quaint little inn. He welcomed us heartily and showed us to a table. Though the smell of fresh food filled the air, we unfortunately found the patronage almost as bare as the tavern.

Acebar turned out to be about as helpful as Dern. He explained that the townsfolk don't pay too much attention to the bandits, settled with the fact they are a part of life here in Nashkel. He did reiterate what Dern had already told us; the Ravens are more organized than most. He also let us know about a group of adventurers, hailed as "The Black and Blue," that had come through only days earlier and set out to dispatch the Ravens. He spoke highly of them and their competence. He said he remembered those who paid their debts when due and this group made it a point to keep him paid.

Norah then piped up, "Breakfast all around, good sir! Venison and eggs for my compatriots."

And so it was a glorious breakfast...

With our bellies full, we made our way to the gate. We decided to revisit the trade road where we rescued Lhotis, the gem trader, and his family from what we now believed to be a group of Raven bandits. Our hope was that we could sniff out the trail of the injured bandit that escaped. He'd barely escaped with his life, limping heavily and bleeding. Surely, he had left some "blood crumbs" for us to follow.

As we passed through the front gate, I leaned into Damaia and told her that she should try to steal the letter that Miresta received. I was curious to know what information lay in that parchment. What's more,  I wanted to know why Miresta insisted on secrecy about it. Plus, it might've made the walk a little more interesting.

I believe Carric, ever the perceptive arcanist, heard me. As Damaia moved in to retrieve the letter, Carric leaned in to Miresta and told her to burn the letter. She immediately looked back at us, pulled out the letter and a tinderbox and, with that, the letter went up in smoke. This angered Damaia, which led to a confrontation about Miresta's secrecy and how it stood to sow mistrust among us. Miresta maintained her composure and assured us that if it became necessary, she would involve us. And with that, she turned and continued walking in silence.

I must say, I was proud of Damaia at that moment. She has grown into quite the independent young lady. I had reservations about bringing her on the road. Her maturity in handling the situation has been ever-growing. And I am glad for the companionship.

The mid-morning sun was beating down on us as we approached our destination. The first to hit us was the stench of the slain bandits' rotting corpses. They had not been moved nor looted since our encounter. It had occurred to me that this portion of the road may be lightly traveled. As I was sure that very few people pick Nashkel as a destination.

As we surveyed the area, Miresta smartly locked onto the blood trail of the last bandit that had escaped. The trail led south through the dense mass of trees. We could see from the blood stains that he had stopped several times to rest before moving further south.

We followed his trail to a rocky riverbank. The river itself, broad and raging, looked nearly impassible. Most of us scratched our heads as we discussed ways to cross.

"We could tie a rope to an arrow and shoot it across."
"Or we could possibly find another place to cross."
"No, that would take too much time..."

Mid-discussion, Carric noticed that the raging waters was an arcane illusion and charged right into the water, ignoring our chatter. We all screamed and yelled, trying to stop him. And then we stood stunned, mouths gaping, as he waded into the raging waters with ease.

"Come on," he called to us and waved his hand without looking back.

I ran immediately in behind him, did a belly flop in the water and waved my arms towards him, splashing his backside with as big a wave as I could muster. He was unfazed. I was satisfied.

Having forded the foot-deep river, we adjusted ourselves and prepared to move into the trees that lined the outer bank. Before we could get a half-step forward, a group of bandits came out at us. They stopped in shock at the sight of us. We froze in shock at the sight of them. It was a tense moment.

Carric quickly spoke up. He spoke as though he was one of them, headed back to report in. They bought it. Their shoulders relaxed as they engaged Carric in conversation.

The group, as it turned out, was leaving the gang. Nicholas, one of the bandits,  explained that Dee Dee, the leader of the ravens, had formed an alliance with some unknown forces from the Caves of Chaos. "Symbol-toting bastards" is how he referred to them. He went on to say that all of the gang members that had fallen were systematically being turned into undead to refill the ranks.

The conversation with Nicholas and his three other friends ended and we began to move towards the trees. Out of nowhere, Miresta loaded an arrow in her bow and loosed it at Nicholas. He immediately went down. This caused other three bandits to make ready for battle, forcing our hand. Our group went into action and dispatched two of the remaining three. The third was knocked unconscious.

We woke the unconscious bandit and propped him against a tree after looting his friends' bodies. As he came to, he screamed in extreme pain and agony. Carric attempted to question him but the intense amount of pain proved to be too overwhelming. His ability to share any kind of real information with us was compromised.

Before any of us could act further, a mysterious crackle of bluish arcane energy rose up in Carric. He leaned down towards the bandit, still screaming and writhing against the tree.

"I grow bored with you," Carric stated matter-of-factly.

And he blasted his now brimming arcana into the bandits body. I watched as he seized and stiffened, as if being electrified, and then his body fell limp. At that moment, we all fell into an awkward silence; unsure of what to make of the magic we had just witnessed.

In silence, we headed further into the forest, carefully tracing the footsteps of the those we'd just slain. About a half-mile in, we noticed a small clearing with a camp tucked neatly in the center: three small canvas tents, a pit where a fire once burned and two bandits with the same black leather armor and clothing indicative of the Ravens.

"That one there," Norah whispered and pointed to the bandit on the left. "He was the one that got away on the trade road."

We were on to them... 

After some discussion, Carric disguised himself as one of the Ravens we had just killed. This, he reasoned, would gain him entry into the camp as the rest of us flanked them. And so we set about surrounding the camp.

Bhodi used his cat-like movements to make his way around to the west side of the camp. I mustered my halfling nimbleness to carry myself silently to the east side. Damaia, Norah and Miresta stayed in the treeline behind Carric to assist in a frontal assault should it become necessary.

As has been my experience, stealthiness generally carries advantage and the element of surprise is always preferred. Which we had. Until I got a little greedy.

I'd moved up behind one of the tents to get closer to the bandits. I can only surmise that I must have bumped the tent, or perhaps scraped across the canvas. Whichever the case, it was enough to awaken a pair of undead warriors. They piled from the tent towards me, snarling and angry. I quickly backed up, reached in my pouch and drew out the Shot of the Barbarian. As I chugged the contents of the vial, four more undead poured out from the other two tents.

Chaos ensued. The bandit we came to know as Joey Raven, Dee Dee's top lieutenant, drew an ornate rod from his side, held it up in the air and shouted, "Attack!" The undead instantly complied. And with that, Joey and the other bandit, Johnny Raven, took their opportunity to escape. They quickly jumped the wood pile and sprinted south towards the tree line, splitting off from each other along the way.

Norah stepped into the fray, harnessing her divine power to cause a terrible fright in the undead. As she moved forward into the camp, three of the undead began to flee away from her; to the south towards the forest edge.

Miresta saw the bandits escaping and drew her bow. One swift shot split the air with an accuracy rarely seen. It found purchase in Joey's back. He lurched with a howl but continued to move toward the cover of the forest.

While Damaia, Carric, Norah, Miresta and I steadily worked to destroy the undead, Bhodi took to the wind in an unnaturally fast sprint. It was as though his feet never made contact with the ground. In an instant he was upon Joey. Through a blinding series of blows with his staff, Bhodi dropped him hard. Joey's body went limp, blood pouring from his nose, mouth and ears.

I was still in the center of the camp waging war on the now three undead that were mauling me. Systematically, I began slashing and cutting with my short-swords. The rage had overtaken me and with little thought I hacked and hacked until these undead were no longer moving. They seemed to go down easy but die hard.

I looked up to find that Norah had pushed the frightened undead to the south of the camp, to Bhodi Li. He immediately turned to them and began his assault. Carric and Damaia had begun closing the gap.

Seeing my fellow travelers otherwise occupied with the undead, Johnny made his move. He lunged forward in an effort to grab the rod that had been dropped by Joey. Though he had been hurt from the scuffle, he seemed to move with a quickness, as if a surge of adrenaline pushed him forward.

Carric saw him and shouted at Bhodi, "Grab the rod! He's going for the rod!"

Bhodi deftly moved in and cracked Johnny squarely on the head with his staff. He then scooped up the rod and shouted with vigor, "Stop!" Unfortunately, there was no reaction from the undead. Bhodi realized he would have to spend some time with this object to realize its true use, if it had any at all. Johnny realized at this point that his situation was dire so he decided to run and live to fight another day.

As I was dispatching the last of the undead attacking me, I heard a series of cracks and rumbles. Norah had begun pushing a force through her body that ran as a wave across the remaining undead. They shook as a forceful thunder smashed against them and continually pushed them backwards.

I finished off the undead attacking me and moved toward the group. By the time I reached them, they had destroyed the remaining undead. I looked into their now weary faces as they studied the carnage strewn about. We began to realize the gravity of the battle we had just won. The garbs which now lay tattered on the bodies of the undead were simple; the fabrics smattered with blacks and blues. We had just laid to rest the group of adventurers that set out before us to tamp out the Ravens.

I then turned and walked to the body of Joey Raven. I drew my short-sword high above my head and, without hesitation, swung down as hard as could. The blade easily bit its way through Joey's neck. His head separated from his body cleanly and rolled slightly forward into the blood-soaked grass. Satisfied, I gave my sword a shake to fling the thick droplets of blood off it's blade and secured the head as proof of a task completed.

And there, in the early afternoon light, we all - Carric, Norah, Miresta, Bhodi Li and myself - gathered around for a moment's rest. I pulled my corn-cob pipe and personal cask of ale from my bag, popped the cork, filled my tankard and settled back against a nearby tree. All the while, I looked upon the body of the slain adventurers who had been risen from the dead only to die again. As I drew in the smoke of my brandied tobacco, I couldn't help but be at peace; and hope that we had provided peace for the Black And Blue as well...