Chapter I - Into the Wilderness

Naesala ignores the looting for now, always content to let other people pick through the bodies once the killing was over. The Art's hypersensitivity is eased gently, the instinct-reflex state wound down to lesser degrees as she applies some small pressure to a pain receptor in the small of her meagre prize's back. Within a minute the man awakens, struggles in vain for a few moments for freedom then is forced to accept his restraint. Naesala speaks softly into his ear once she is assured of his lucidity, her soft tone strangely pleasant despite the bandit's predicament. "Your friends have passed on, dispatched at our hands. You may yet live, if you earn such concession."

She tenses her hold a fraction, and the man's left arm is pushed a little closer to breaking. "There is one amongst you of repute with the bow. I will know the reason for her absence."

Tecumseh wrote:

"The woman of the sharp eye," he says in response to Otto's plan, tapping his temple. "She is still out there. She will not be fooled."

Otto gives Ignacio a slight shrug. "All things being equal, if seven of the eight hesitate, we gain an upper hand against their bigger numbers. We will need every advantage we can get."

Otto's brow furrows, "Did any of the bandits take their swings?" he asks. "If not, let us keep it that way. Let them not understand their peril until it becomes too...perilous."

He turns to watch the interplay between Naesala and the captive.

The man wakes up with a start. He has black hair, untamed facial hair, and deeply tanned skin. Up close, he smells of horse sweat and weak wine that's often used not for intoxication but because it's more sterile than the alternative. He struggles for a moment more out of instinct rather than a real expectation that he'll get away. His eyes are wide and he seems to grasp the situation that he's in. He understands that he's being questioned and that his life probably depends on it, so he opens his mouth... and an incomprehensible stream of babble pours out.

By the torrent of words you can tell that he's probably spilling his guts, but the catch is that you can't understand but a tiny fraction of it. His trade cant is terrible, worse than you thought it could be out here in the wilderness. There are a handful of loan words and cognates between trade cant and whatever he's speaking, but it's not enough to understand his explanation.

"Modern Vothian," Ignacio says, nodding sagely. "I do not speak it, but..." He points back in the direction of the trading post. "Emma." However, from the look on his face you can tell that Emma would not look kindly on being used as a translator for an interrogation. Maybe it's not impossible, but there would be a price to pay. Otherwise you'll have to depend on miming and charades, although presumably that would require him to have the use of his hands.

Slowly Ardan caches his breath again and his vision becomes clearer. A cacophony of horses screaming, people shouting and feet stomping washes over him. As he lifts his head he can see the fighting is already over.
The horses, some one needs to calm down the horses. He looks around, but everybody else seems busy and worried with other things. Ardan turns to the first horse, tries to get ahold of its reigns and speaks calmly to the frightened animal. It takes several attempts, but he manages to calm it down and he swings himself into the saddle. The other horse is easier to calm, as he has a better position.

After the fleeing horse has disappeared into the forest, Ardan returns to the others looking through the belongings of the dead bandits and interrogating the prisoner. "I calmed these two, but the last horse was too scared. I should be able to track it, but we need to hurry before it makes it to camp. I will try to find it while you all finishing up here and then bring her back, alright?"

Thelonius wrote:

"I calmed these two, but the last horse was too scared. I should be able to track it, but we need to hurry before it makes it to camp. I will try to find it while you all finishing up here and then bring her back, alright?"

"Aye, give it a go. I did not spy any bandits in the treeline, but you never know, so stay wary."

With that, Otto gives Ardan a wink, and holds his hand out in a gesture like he's doffing a brew. "And here's to yer horse's better footing."

"Would you like some company, Ardan?" She grins. "If you stumble from up there, you might need some patching up."

She looks out at the treeline. More seriously, she adds: "Not to mention, we can't be certain they don't have more friends nearby."

Ardan leaps onto a horse. Adrasta pulls herself up onto one. How hard can it be?

Well pretty hard actually. Keeping up with Ardan is a chore since he's going fast to try to catch up to the running horse. Adrasta doesn't fall off but nor does the horse always go exactly where she wants it to. She does best when just following Ardan, as her horse instinctively follows his, but his horse is at a trot and Adrasta hasn't quite learned how to manage the up-and-down rhythm of the canter. The saddle ends up beating her up quite a bit and the insides of her thighs start to burn as she squeezes for dear life.

The forest is thick and there's plenty of underbrush, including ferns and other low brambles. The good news is that this makes it easy for Ardan to see where the other horse went. The bad news is that there is a steady stream of low branches full of pine needles slapping you in the face and reaching for your eyes.

A mile goes by and then two. There's no sign of the missing horse, although Ardan still sees the trail clearly in front of him. He and Adrasta will have to decide how far to pursue it on their own versus turning around to go as a group with Otto and Naesala.

Ardan paces through the thicket of branches and leaves, not even noticing the struggling Adrasta having trouble keeping up. Up with him and up on the horse.
Following the trail of the horse is easy, it pays no regard to being subtle and its cargo still bleeds onto leaves and branches. He is determined to catch the horse, before it reaches the camp, having to achieve something after his blunder at the fight. He is still picking grass out of his teeth. Never will he hear the end of this. Angry with himself he focuses only on the trail in front of him and on his own thoughts.

Adrasta tries to keep pace with Ardan, but it soon becomes clear to her than the man has experience she is sorely lacking. It also becomes apparent that the muscles a rider uses are very different than the ones her poor, infantry legs and hips are used to engaging. She bears it for as long as she can, but the search drags on...

"Ardan, would you slow down a bit. My feet usually take me where I want to go," she grins apologetically, "but these ones seem to have a mind of their own."

Not long after Adrasta makes her request there's a bit of reprieve: the missing horse is spotted. Ardan and Adrasta come to a small lake and find their target on the shore, drinking after its heavy exercise. The body of the bandit is still in the saddle, limp as a rag dog. Miraculously, Adrasta's spear is still sticking out of his back.

There's a slight clearing along the shore of the lake, as the trees turn into low bushes and then into simple grasses along the waterline. Dismounting, Adrasta stretches her back before pulling the bandit out of the saddle and happily reuniting with her spear. Ardan approaches the new horse, cooing soft words in its ear.

The horse gives a start. Ardan is surprised, but then his horse and Adrasta's horses neigh and start stamp their feet too.

There's a horrible sound emerging from the treeline, like high-pitched laughter. Turning, Adrasta and Ardan are confronted by a half-dozen beasts which are fanned out in a semi-circle, trapping Ardan and Adrasta with their backs to the lake. They look like hyenas crossed with saber-tooth tigers, with well-developed forelimbs and exceptionally long upper canine teeth. The one on the far-right gives a high-pitched laugh, which is answered by a high-pitched laugh from the one on the far left. It's clear that they're communicating with each other. There is an intelligence which burns in their eyes as they close in on their prey.

Alarmed Ardan lifts his head. Reflexively he extends his arm in an angle next to his body and a light extends from it glowing first and then quickly focusing into a long thin blade. This time he does not take chances. Moments later he is ready to receive the beasts. With his free hand, he holds the reigns of his horse tight. "Stay with your horse, Adrasta, I suggest we make a quick escape. I'll take these two horses, can you ride yours?"

Adrasta wheels around, bringing her shield and spear up in a fighting stance. Her eyes flick from one monster to another as she assesses their situation. "Are you planning on us swimming away? Because I don't see many other options. Do you think they'd be satisfied with one horse?" Her eyes flick to the dead bandit. "And one human corpse?"

"We're much taller than those beasts, maybe we can break through."

The beasts make the decision for the adventurers, they rush forward, teeth snapping. Adrasta blocks the first one that comes for her with her shield, pushing it back. She stabs forward with her spear, but the creature jumps back, evading the killing blow. Adrasta still draws blood, but the beast doesn't relent.

She shifts closer to Ardan, trying to protect the unarmored scoundrel as best she can. He's fast, but one wrong move and his guts would be on the ground. "I guess they're a greedy bunch."

She sees one of the things lunge for him. She punches her arm forward, trying to block it with her shield. She gets her arm there in time, but too far and the beast's teeth rake across her bicep. Luckily, she manages to pull it back before it's jaw snaps shut.

The beast she had wounded comes back at her, snapping at her heels but she brings down her shield in its way. She stabs down, this time on the mark. Her spear takes a second life on the same day.

She sees another beast dead at Ardan's feet and grins. "Come on!" She bangs her shield with her fist, challenging the remaining creatures, but they seem to have lost their taste for the fight. She watches them retreat into the woods.

She waits a few moments, making sure they're gone, then stows her spear.

"Are you alright?" she asks Ardan. She motions to his wounds. "I can help with those, if you'd like."

The beasts sense the humans hesitation and instinctively take the advantage. Two lunge forward, their horrifying fangs first. Ardan moves his body away from the first beast, but ends his move with leaning on the leg he twisted earlier that day. Pain shoots through his ankle and his leg gives in a little. The second beast immediately is over him and plunges its fangs into his thigh. Seering pain let's Ardan grunt, but he manages to push it away. Its fur is short and the hair rough in his fingers, it smells like old blood.
With his sword hand he stabs after it, but it ducks and he only manages to pierce its shoulder. Blood squirts out and its dark red colour spreads in the water of the lake. The beast yelps and withdraws only to make room for the next two. This time Ardan is ready and manages to avoid their snapping jaws.
But then the first pair is back. The younger one he already avoided last time misses him again, but the one he wounded is angry and darts for him. He pulls up his hands in defense of his face, but the impact never comes. Out of nowhere Adrasta managed to get her spear between him and the beast.
Ardan throws his arm and blade forward, sinking his blade into the already wounded beast. It tumbles... and stays down.
Suddenly the other beasts flee, probably to regroup somewhere safe.
"I'm ok, it's just my leg. Let's get away from here, I'm sure those beast will be back."
Ardan pulls himself onto his nervous horse, this time much less elegantly than before and steers it over to the other one, grabbing both their reigns. "Let's hurry back, before the others start looking for us." He starts riding back the way they came, but then stops and turns his horse around once more. "And Adrasta" he pauses, looks down at his bleeding, throbbing leg and then back up to the warrior, "Thanks for coming along."

Thelonius wrote:

"I'm ok, it's just my leg. Let's get away from here, I'm sure those beast will be back."
Ardan pulls himself onto his nervous horse, this time much less elegantly than before and steers it over to the other one, grabbing both their reigns. "Let's hurry back, before the others start looking for us."

"Very well..." Adrasta says, sounding unsure. She focuses and her hand starts to glow slightly. She passes it over her wounds. The bleeding immediately stops and the flesh starts to knit itself closed. She walks to the edge of the water and cleans the blood off her skin.

She then pulls herself up on her horse, dreading the pain to follow.

Thelonius wrote:

He starts riding back the way they came, but then stops and turns his horse around once more. "And Adrasta" he pauses, looks down at his bleeding, throbbing leg and then back up to the warrior, "Thanks for coming along."

Adrasta smiles. "Sure thing." She looks at his leg and nods. "Offer stands, should you change your mind, tough guy."

Adrasta and Ardan have a moment to collect themselves before they gather their new horse and go. A quick review of the deceased bandit reveals much the same story as before:

- 1 mace
- 1 dagger
- 1 buff coat (with a hole)
- 1 waterskin
- 1 day of rations
- 2sp worth of simple jewelry

If the man had a helmet or a shield, they fell off his corpse long ago.

There's also the two dead beasts. Their potential value is unknown. Perhaps their teeth are worth something, or maybe their gonads can be brewed into a potent aphrodisiac. Stuffing them is another option, although at the moment you don't really have a home or a social club where you can display them as trophies for others to admire.

"Do you have a preference where I bury these miscreants, Ignacio? I would be especially obliged if you happen to have a shovel. Might as well make good use of the time while the others are playing in the forest."

Otto looks pointedly at the captive as he speaks an aside to Naesala, "Let me know if I need to make the grave any bigger."

With that, he takes the shovel proffered by Ignacio, and heads back outside. He grabs one of the dead men, and slings him onto the back of one of the horses. He leads the horse to the other dead bandit, and heaves that bandit onto the horse's back, as well. Otto leads the horse to the edge of the clearing, and commences with the digging.

"What has started must now be finished. With her as translator this man and others may yet live."
Naesala's trade cant is cold and matter-of-fact, but Ignacio gets a sense that she doesn't wish for killing for its own sake. "Ardan shares a mind with your wife, after all."

Ignacio waves to Otto. "No, not there," he calls out, indicating the tree line. "Animals will dig them up. Here, next to the palisade walls." He points to a blank spot next to a patch where some daffodils are starting to emerge. "Next to the flower beds! I'll plant something pretty over them." He helps strip the bodies, explaining that it will help them degrade.

Naesala presses on Ignacio to recruit Emma for assistance. After a long, thoughtful silence, Ignacio nods. He turns and goes into the trading post.

There are some raised voices for a bit, maybe the sound of something breaking - dishes perhaps. Then Ignacio brings Emma out, practically dragging her by the elbow. She looks extremely cross. The sight of Otto burying naked bodies next to the flower beds does not settle her mood.

Ignacio says something to her in a foreign language, pointing toward the captive. Emma folds her arms and shakes her head. Ignacio speaks softly, and your best guess is that he's explaining that the man's life depends on it. Emma eventually relents, but she stares daggers at Naesala for putting her up to this.

Emma says a word or two in Modern Vothian. The prisoner looks hugely relieved, like he's been thrown a lifeline. Words pour out of him like a river. There's some back-and-forth as Emma translates (or so you hope) Naesala's question. The man babbles a long response. Although bound, he moves his hands expressively, at one point holding them near the ground, then halfway off the ground, then up near his head.

Emma sighs and grudgingly begins to translate. "The woman is back at camp. She's been promoted. She is not the boss but - how do you say? - lieutenant. This man is her replacement. He was learning the process from the others." She juts her chin toward the dead bodies. "This was seen as a low-risk assignment, no longer requiring her attention."

She gives Ignacio a 'are we done now' look. He encourages her to go on. Another exchange takes place.

"The bandit camp is north, along a river. It is not hard to find. He can provide instructions. It has a palisade like this." She points to the trading post. "But smaller. No buildings inside, just tents. He does not know how many bandits there are. Not all of them return to the camp each night, so they are not all there at once. His group is expected back tonight."

Ardan and Adrasta begin their trip back to camp with the third horse in tow. It's an easier trip, no longer at breakneck speeds in order to reach the horse before it returns to camp. Although slower, it's much more gentle on Adrasta.

When the opportunity arises, she channels her healing energies. Her hands glow slightly as he passes them over Ardan's wounds. He feels a wave of heat building up inside of him. It's warm, pleasant even, and then becomes hot. There's a gentle burning sensation, like a sunburn, but then it recedes and feels normal once again. His thigh is now fine, the skin fresh and pink, although there are still two puncture holes in his pants.

The trip back to the trading post is comparatively uneventful. They come through the treeline in the midafternoon, all traces of the battle having been cleared from the grassy field in front of the palisade gate.

Ardan leads the horses into the palisade and hobbles them up. Preparing some hay and water for them he obviously tries to stay away from where the dead bandits are buried. Whenever the topic about the deadly fight comes up, he suddenly has a chore to do and he is also not interested in the meager loot. In general he seems a bit calmer and less chatty then usually, busy with his own thoughts.

In Adrasta's experience, everyone dealt with the horror of battle in different ways. She liked to crack jokes. Ardan, it seemed, shut down. The usually verbose, charming man keeps quiet the whole way back. She gives him his space, keeping watch to make sure the beasts aren't stalking them, the leisurely pace allowing her to not solely focus on controlling her steed.

When they emerge from the woods and the trading post comes into view, she gives a sigh of relief. She grins and waves at the others as she approaches, before dismounting and gratefully letting Ardan take the horses inside the palisade. She stretches her legs, wondering if her suggestion of getting horses had been a mistake after all. Now she'd have to ride the damn thing all the time...

She gives Ignacio the mace and dagger to add to his stores, but hangs on to the jewelry, reasoning it would be easier to trade if she ever gets the opportunity.

She then walks over to Naesala and Otto. "So, did our guest spin any good tales?"

Naesala nods, seemingly ignoring Emma's tone. "A coup, or perhaps an endorsement of her expertise. Whichever, our journey is with merit."

Content that she can locate the camp without the aid of the bandit, Naesala addresses Ignacio's wife directly. "There is no sport in this one, and he has provided what was asked; if he is not to be executed for his crimes, what would you have his fate be?" There is no emotion in the elf's voice, she is clearly not judging Emma's outlook on life nor looking to teach her any kind of lesson about the practicalities of living as she has done thus far, surviving at the whims of a lawless band who rule with violence and fear. If Ignacio looks as if he might interject, she silences him with a glance, otherwise she awaits the woman's answer.

"Release him to me," Emma says confidently. "He will work here as an alternative to banditry, much good may it do him. It seems as if he may have been new to the lifestyle anyway."

Ignacio does not object. He does not seem particularly concerned by the prospect of a ex-bandit running around under his roof. Nor does he look like the type who might be silenced with a glance, even though that it not necessary in this case.

"We'll work on your Trade Cant," Ignacio tells the bandit with a playful slap to the face as he releases the man's bonds. "What is your name anyway?"

Emma translates the question. "Mrglbrgle," the man says. Presumably it makes more sense if you have an ear for Modern Vothian.

"Ha!" Ignacio laughs at the name. "We'll call you Puppy. C'mon, Puppy." He leads the man off to help Otto with the burials, reasoning that it may reinforce the fate of bandits and help ensure future compliance.

Ardan and Adrasta return to find Puppy burying bodies. Otto and Naesala update them on the available intel before discussing what to do next.

The shoveling is going well, Otto continually assessing and reassessing the hole as he digs. Few roots, and only the occasional large stone get in the way, no doubt the product of having been cleared long ago for the palisade. Otto expected to dig a little longer, that the 2-bandit hole would need expansion into a 3-bandit hole. The appearance of Ignacio and the bandit take him somewhat by surprise, as Otto catches a glimpse of the pair over his left shoulder.

"Almost done it seems, unless this gent has plans to climb in with his two compatriots...", he says to Ignacio. "Has our little friend had a change of heart, then, and wants to do the digging himself?"

Otto turns and holds the shovel out to the bandit, looking at Ignacio to make sure that he intended for the bandit to dig. When Ignacio nods, Otto puts the shovel in the bandit's hand, giving the hand a quick squeeze that crushes his fingers against the shovel's handle. The bandit winces, to Otto's slight satisfaction. Otto returns inside, expecting to leave shortly for the bandit camp.

Ardan and Adrasta are gone for a long time - much longer than might be expected to retrieve a horse - but there's a pleasant reunion when you're back together and are assured that none of you are dead.

Adrasta marches over to Puppy and pantomimes the desire for a map. Puppy quickly complies, either through fear or Adrasta or no real love for his fellow bandits.

He kneels down and draws in the fresh dirt over his dead-and-buried companions. The palisade is relatively small, circular, and next to a lake or a river or a stream (it's not clear) where the bandits get their fresh water. There are woods in the general vicinity around the camp. Puppy holds his hand above his head, suggesting that the palisade walls are seven or eight feet high. The posts of the palisade are not tightly fitted together, allowing them to be seen through. He growls and mimes a bit, implying that the walls are mostly to keep wild animals at bay. There aren't any trees for 10 or so yards around the walls, either so that animals don't leap down from tree limbs in an aerial assault on the camp inhabitants, or so that the camp's fire doesn't trigger a massive forest fire.

The palisade is circular, large enough to hold about seven tents of various sizes. If the entrance to the palisade is at 6 o'clock on a clock face, then there's a large tent at 12 o'clock, medium-sized tents flanking it at 10 and 2, and smaller tents at 8, 9, 3, and 4 o'clock. There's a large fire in the middle of the camp with a communal pot for stew. There are low logs or benches or places to sit around the fire.

You feed and water the horses. Ardan and Adrasta's mounts don't look exactly delighted with the prospect of setting off again so soon.

Adrasta squats next to Puppy as he draws the map. Her interactions are friendly. She smiles at him and enthusiastically communicates with him through miming and noises. Once they're done she clasps him on the shoulder and nods, warmly thanking him with words he doesn't understand, but whose meaning is clear. If the others hadn't seen her kill one of Puppy's compatriots and be an accessory in the death of another, they probably wouldn't have believed the witnesses.

She insists on feeding her horse herself, hoping it'll help her develop a rapport with the animal. She quickly checks her gear for damage then joins the others.

"I'm good to go. Let's get there before they send out a search party, yeah?"

"I'll gather my things."

Otto disappears for a few moments, then returns with his loaded backpack, complete with his cooking utensils and whatever he needs to make camp.

"No time to waste, and we don't want to give them a chance to return here. Who wants to walk the draft horse?" He claps Ignacio on the shoulder, and looks at Emma.

"Thank you both, we should be back tomorrow. Keep alert. Should we fail, there could be trouble."

During the ride Ardan remains quiet and introverted. He keeps a close eye on the forest around him in order to avoid another ambush like before and remains deep in thoughts.
He is starting to doubt his decision to follow the others into the Wilderness. Twice today he ended up in over his head and is on the way to the next fight. He feels out of his element, like situation after situation is pulling him forward leaving him incapable of reaction or control. In the city it was different. He could always disappear in moments time and step out as someone else. He could talk to people, convince them. And most importantly things did not become so gruesome so fast.
But he didn't have a choice. He had to leave Dar Sour after that wealthy merchant found out he was not actually shipping logs and started calling in all kinds of favours. Ardan never saw his face on so many pictures. He didn't have a choice.
But was it worth it? Better to run to the next city and start from zero or to die out here, slain by some streetside bandit or a drooling animal?

<<Midafternoon - Early Spring - Wilderness>>

Otto's departing words do not exactly comfort Emma. In fact, a certain look had crosses her face that reminds Otto of a twisting sensation in his stomach. Ignacio gives Otto an annoyed look that says, "REALLY?" but then recovers smoothly. "We'll be fine," he assures Otto/Emma. "I have my old aim back." He rotates his arm in a pitching movement. Emma steps into Ignacio's side, ostensibly to be held for comfort but perhaps - clever girl - to stop him from repeating his martial motions.

Ardan spends the ride in the woods doubting himself. The facts that he calmed the panicked horses and tracked the missing one through the underbrush are evidently overshadowed by his martial foibles, even though he successfully defeated one of the saber-toothed hyenas. And, if he looks around, he would realize that he's the best rider by far. Not a high bar in this group, but a familiarity with horses is useful under the circumstances. He quickly establishes a rapport with his mount.

Adrasta is extra alert, not wanting to be surrounded by saber-tooth hyenas looking for revenge. She even remembers to look up every once in a while, glancing through the branches of the trees. There are stories about predators pouncing from above, leaping upon unsuspecting backs and biting through spinal columns. Is there any truth to those stories or are they just to get people to stay away from the Wilderness?

Naesala is ever-alert, her keen elven senses primed to her surroundings. Every so often she feels a flash of recognition ... has "she" been here before? Déjà vu can be innocuous to humans but for elves it can feel like an act of psychic suppression. But then the moment passes. These woods are much the same as any other.

Water is abundant in lakes and streams, which makes traveling easier. The early spring temperatures are cool but pleasant. It's not long before the sun dips in the sky and the shadows of the trees grow long. It starts to get dim, although Naesala's elven eyes allow her to see easily. She takes point as the group gets close to their intended destination.

<<Sunset - Early Spring - Wilderness>>

After an uneventful trip through the forest, Naesala hears something and holds up her hand. She dismounts and then the group follows. Ardan settles the horses as the group begins to sneak through the underbrush.

Eventually there's a clearing in the trees for a stream to meander through the forest. The groups is on the south side of the stream, which is swollen with melting winter snow but looks no more than knee-deep. However, any outdoorsman knows how slippery river rocks can be, and even a modest current pushing on your knees can make footing treacherous. It's not so much the danger of slipping or drowning, but rather getting across unseen and unheard. Moving upstream or downstream to cross would be prudent.

The gate to the bandit palisade is on the south side, facing the water. Looking across the water - 50 yards, perhaps - you can see straight into the bandit camp. There's a lively fire going underneath the dinner pot in the center of camp. The sun will set any minute and the darkness will advance every 30 minutes or so. After half an hour it will be difficult for the non-elves to see without light sources of their own.

A loose plan is formed to cross downstream, tie up the horses, and then sneak up on the camp.

You take a minute to study the bandit camp before slipping away. At first there are six bandits, all men seemingly in prime banditing age. One of them has a dog that looks older and is slowing down. The dog has a grey muzzle and moves along in a creaky fashion, perhaps due to arthritis in its joints. It seems to be around for companionship and perhaps nostalgia of its younger days. It doesn't look like it would do much in a fight, but it looks alert and wags happily whenever someone walks by. It doesn't appear mistreated.

You never see anyone go into or out of the large tent that's at the 12 o'clock position, directly across from the gate on the south side. You only see one other horse, which is tied up a few yards from the palisade to nibble on grasses along the bank of the stream. It's possible that you have the majority of the bandits' horses with you.

A woman emerges from the medium-sized tent at 11 o'clock position of tents. She is much smaller than the men but they are all deferential to her, clearing out of her way so that she can sit next to the fire on a log that functions as a bench. The forest air is getting cool as the sun sets. She wears a traveling cloak with a hood up over her head that conceals her face. She takes food from the pot and sits with a bowl next to the fire.

Suddenly her head snaps up and looks directly south out of the palisade gate. She jumps to her feet and strides quickly to the gate. Her gaze seems to be looking in your direction. You shrink down among the plants and undergrowth. The dog comes over to check on her. She seems to stare into the woods for another minute before turning on her heel and returning as quickly as she came. She barks orders to the others. One jumps up and goes out to retrieve the horse and bring it inside the palisade walls for the evening. A few of the others pick up the gate and manually carry it into place. It does look like it's on a hinge or anything like that; it's just a section of spiked posts that's muscled into and out of place as necessary. The woman then sits down for her diner.

Looks like they're done waiting for their wayward companions to return tonight.

It's clear that the woman is Naesala's errant mark, and she mentions as much to the others. A plan forms. "The element of surprise is ours, and therefore the advantage. I would see my way into the camp to dispatch that woman once she has taken to her bed, and mayhaps to follow suit with whoever may rest within the largest tent. These men strike me not as disciplined warriors, moreso as strays banded together that they may survive as a pack. Without an alpha to turn to, they pose little threat to a band such as ours."

Naesala's eyes are two pools of darkness in the fading light, reminding the others that she has no need for torchlight to work after night falls. "What say you?"

Faanku wrote:

It's clear that the woman is Naesala's errant mark, and she mentions as much to the others. A plan forms. "The element of surprise is ours, and therefore the advantage. I would see my way into the camp to dispatch that woman once she has taken to her bed, and mayhaps to follow suit with whoever may rest within the largest tent. These men strike me not as disciplined warriors, moreso as strays banded together that they may survive as a pack. Without an alpha to turn to, they pose little threat to a band such as ours."

"The first part, I like", Otto says with a low rumble.

"What happens when they wake up, and you're the only one of us in their camp? You can't take them all. It...it...well, it just wouldn't be sporting." There is slight indignation etched on his face.

"My interest is only in the one they follow. I have no taste for the strays."
There is a suggestion of a smile on the elf's face. "Quality before quantity, such is my Art's desire."

<<Night - Early Spring - Bandit Camp>>

You slip away and return to the horses. Naesala takes the lead, escorting the group to the west (downstream) before crossing the stream. The current of the stream would be challenging for a man but is no trouble for the sure-footed horses. Then, across on the north side, you tie up the horses, hope they don't get eaten by wild animals, and have a quick meal.

You spend the twilight hours sharpening your weapons and reviewing the plan ("Get them, Naesala"), such as it is. The nighttime air is crisp and you can understand why the bandits were accepting their tribute in furs. Bundling up, you begin to make your way back east toward the camp. Once again Naesala is in the lead as her elven eyes can make use of the light reflected from the waning gibbous moon rising in the sky.

The group is able to hide at the treeline maybe 10 meters from the palisade wall, but the treeline is to the north and the palisade gate is on the south side. If Otto approaches at an angle - from the treeline to the northwest, for example - he thinks he can make it there in 20 meters.

There's a very dull glow from the embers of the campfire. You see the old dog sleeping next to it. Everyone else seems to be in tents.

Naesala is off like a shadow running from its owner, padding over the intervening 10 meters. The ground is damp and soft from spring rains. Naesala doesn't make a sound.

Naesala grabs the palisade wall and clings to it as if she were carved into it. Her grip is secure, and her feet stick to the posts as if they were flat ground. She's up and over in an instant, but refrains dropping to the ground. She can slip around the perimeter, clinging to the wall as easily as a walk in the park (a walk in the park where she might murder several people).

For Naesala:

The real leader is here, as expected. It would perhaps be prudent to disable the woman first, the more known quantity as it were, and so Naesala decides to use the lieutenant's own nonchalance against her. Stalking into the tent, the elf wait for the right moment...

For Naesala:

The dog perks up and barks, then barks again. One of the male voices can be heard to say, "What?!"

Naesala doesn't react to the revelation of the woman's ancestry for now, as the Art maintains its hair trigger grip on her consciousness. As the life of the other elf fades, her Art alerts her to the incoming bandit, and she slips back out of the tent and into the shadows as she awaits the discovery of the body. The dog may be an issue, if its hearing is sharp enough to hear that muffled struggle, but not as much as the rest of the strays.

Outside the palisade, Otto can hear sounds, the beginnings of confusion, the realizations that something has gone amiss.

"Naesala is one against many, let us add to the confusion", he whispers hoarsely to his companions, and starts toward the palisade gate. Axe at the ready, he prepares for visitors should the gate open before their arrival.

Adrasta nods at Otto. Grasping her shield and her spear, she follows, trying her best not to make any noise.

As his two companions ready their weapons and start towards the palisade Ardan first stays behind with a confused look on his face. He then hurries to catch up and whispers to them "Otto, Adrasta, wait. Don't you think we should make a plan first?" walking half a step in front of them Ardan has his upper body turned to his friends and, instead of grasping a weapon, gesticulates with both of his arms, beckoning the two to slow down or stop. When they don't, Ardan turns and realises that he too followed effectively.

Naesala springs off her victim and slips out the back of the tent. Perhaps not so gracefully as she did previously but quickly enough to break away before someone spots her.

"Hey, HEY!" the alarm goes up as the dog continues to bark madly. The dog runs to the wall of the palisade and runs along barking as Otto, Adrasta, and Ardan sprint for the gate.

The bandit who first responded to the dog takes a vase that's next to the fire pit and tosses it on the embers. A giant conflagration rises to the sky, immediately illuminating the area. It's likely intended to scare away wild animals, but it has the secondary effect of bringing the fire back to life very quickly. The man covers his eyes with his arm as he tries to look inside the woman's tent. It's likely that he can't make out the details, but the dog is going nuts so he probably knows that something is amiss.

The other bandits start to rouse from their tents.

Otto rushes to the gate, urgency starting to rise as he hears the sounds of activity inside the palisade. He presses the handle of his axe against the edge of the gate with one hand, the other hand securing the opposite edge. He pushes and lifts, expecting the gate to be hinged. To his surprise, the gate simply moves forward with his surge of effort.

Otto moves forward one stride before the lower edge of the gate catches the dirt, wrenching it out of his hands as the gate slams flat on the ground in front of him. The sudden rush of air fans the campfire like a giant bellows, blowing ash and cinders, suddenly glowing red-hot in a windy swirl.

He steps forward to clear the way for his companions, now clutching his axe with both hands, prepared for the onslaught to come.

Adrasta slips past Otto and into the camp. As she passes by the closest tent, a bleary-eyed bandit steps out of it, an annoyed expression on his face. Adrasta reacts quickly, her shield arm snapping out and landing a solid blow to his head.

The bandit stumbles back, his eyes roll up, and he falls back into his tent with a dull thud.

Following Adrasta, Ardan jumps over the fallen palisade. From another tent emerges a bandit with a club looking at the scene unfolding. He spots Ardan and grins about the unarmed opponent. Lifting his club he storms towards Ardan, the flickering lights of the fire make his grin appear almost demonic.
Three steps get him to close the gap between himself and Ardan. He swings the club, but Ardan dives under the swing and with horror the bandit suddenly sees a long blade in Ardans hand. The blade hits right under his lifted arm and disappears deep in his chest. The bandits body becomes limp and he drops to the floor. The blade is gone and blood seeps out of the hole it left.

Naesala slips past the bandit's clumsy strike and delivers a precise elbow to the back of the man's neck, causing him to crumple to the floor unconscious. A second later her body throws itself backwards to avoid a huge attack that would have cleaved her in two, the newly-arrived wolf-headed man's weapon crashing into the ground where the elf previously stood. The Art uses the momentum from the narrow dodge to carry her to atop the palisade, where she perches like a cat to assess the situation.

The battle goes well, the plan executed perfectly. Otto heaves aside the gate with little ado and Ardan and Adrasta pour through to pounce on the stunned and sleepy bandits. The hapless bandits rush out of their tents - half awake and half dressed - only to be attacked immediately. Then the next wave rushes forth, full of confidence and futility for not knowing the fate of their companions until it's too late.

A man charges Ardan with a spear and a shout but neither are very effective. Ardan skips aside nimbly like a matador before delivering his counterpoint.

Otto sees a mace swinging for his face but it's a slow, clumsy effort. Otto moves aside and the mace bounces off his linothorax, which absorbs the blow and leaves no more than a heavy bruise behind it.

The man charging Adrasta swings a hand axe. He's a little more clever than the others, using an unpredicted upward angle to bamboozle her. He delivers a hot shot to her ribs, which cuts deep and would be a grievous injury under other circumstances. But Adrasta focuses on her inner light, energy radiating from her core and replacing the wound with mended flesh, the damage disappearing as quickly as it came. Still, there's going to be a gaping hole in her linothorax when all is said and done.

Then the flaps of the big tent open and a giant figure emerges. He has the muscles of a man and the head of a dog. He's as big as Otto if not bigger, with well-defined musculature. In his left hand he carries a huge bow, long as a man. In his right hand he carries a huge sword, also as long as a man. Seeing his foes in close proximity, he discards the bow and takes the sword in both hands before swinging at Naesala in a downward arc like a goddamn guillotine.

Naesala leans backward and the weapon cuts into the ground instead. Then she backflips as the man pursues with a second swing, this one whispering so close to her neck that she can practically smell her next life. Her momentum carries her to the top of the palisade and, for the moment, safety, but the experience is alarming enough that she's uncertain of whether she's been cut or not.

Otto sees the big guy with the wolf's head out of the corner of his eye, just itching to give his smug face a pummeling. Two other bandits demand his attention, though, and wheeling his axe over his head for momentum, he brings the axe down on the bandit facing him.

The blade turns as he swings, and instead of the crunch of bones being cleaved, the flat of his blade thuds on the bandit's skull, his legs folding beneath him.

The fury of the blow is such that the axe carries, almost with a life of its own, to awkwardly strike the other bandit in the ribs. Breath rushes from his lungs with the impact, and he too collapses in the dirt.

Otto steps towards the fellow with the wolf's head, hoping to get there before the others.

Otto's reaping strike clears away her opposition, so Adrasta rushes forward. She drops her spear as she goes, drawing her xiphos. As the big, wolf-headed man swings his greatsword, he exposes his flank. Adrasta slashes with her sword as she steps past him, her blade finding flesh, and comes to a stop between the massive bandit and Naesala's position atop the palisade.

She lifts her shield and grins. "You may be tall, but you're a bit short on packmates," she taunts.

A low growl resonates from the wolf-bandit's throat and he swings his massive sword at her, faster than any man should be able to move such a large piece of metal. She catches it with her shield, but the force of the impact bats her arm away. She cries out in pain as she feels her shoulder joint pop out of place, her arm dislocated. His momentum carries through, his sword impacting her armor as well and knocking the breath from her lungs. A sharp pain in her flank lets her know at least one of her ribs was broken by the impact.

Adrasta stumbles backwards, seeing the wolfman wheeling around for another swing.