b - *000000* - FICOOL

You have to kill three men before being able to move on. Two as you could not shake them awake despite your best efforts, another one as he managed to get free of his bonds and tried to flee. You cut him down swiftly not five steps after the beginning of his attempt, also putting a stop to further tries in the immediate future.

Stumbling through the night the men are ill equipped to talk to you, their full concentration being consumed by placing one foot before the last without tripping on the uneven ground of the forest. You soon give it up, having underestimated the pure advantage your darkside offered you. To you there was little difference between day and night, only the vibrancy of the colours surrounding you and the temperature telling the difference. Sometimes you just...forgot..that not everybody was blessed to see the world as you did.

The speed of your caravan picks up noticeably as the sun peeks over the horizon, turning the pitch black of the night into the gloom of dawn. You reach Harre as the sun reaches its zenith, the man taking a long look at you as you step out of the woods followed by obviously defeated bandits and their accumulated loot.

Glancing up he snorts dryly, "Where have you been? I expected you before sunrise?"

You couldn´t help a certain feeling of dejavu.

[x] Reply in good humor that you blame the slow bandits for the delay, but you promise to try harder in the future. As you wouldn't want your friend to start thinking lesser of you now, after such a subpar display.

-[x] After a few back and forths and joking aside with Harre, work with him to get everything in order and the captives seen too.

[x] Then once that is done, continue on with your trip.

You banter back and forth for a while, much to the consternation of the captives. Feeling oddly at ease you throw your first prisoner on one of the mules and set out again for Ironrath, the other captured bandits following behind.

The road remains empty and you make camp again three days out from your goal, never leaving the prisoners out of your sight. Your vigilance repays itself as you run down two that manage to get loose during the night, killing them swiftly and kicking their corpses into a convenient ditch. The others, their leader chief among them, remain docile afterwards.

You also finally get the chance to interrogate the men but none knows much of importance but their leader and "White" stoically refuses to say even one word, seemingly content to glare at your hatefully whenever you weren´t quite looking into his direction. The death of his men had done little to calm his ire and you suspected that he would become a problem at some point...likely before you reached Ironrath.

He was also the only one you considered to be likely to know more than the bare essentials of the bandits exploits...and their backers. Sadly he was also the only one not to bow to threats, even as shallow cut along his neck doing little to encourage him to talk. You suspected that you would have to become...creative...to loosen his tongue.

[x] Hold down and cleanly break both legs of the lead Bandit, then properly bind and splint them so the limbs can reheal properly. Before placing him on one of the mules to carry for the rest of the trip.

-[x] Do this in front of the other bandits and make it clear that you will do the same to any others that make trouble from now on, if you don't kill them.

-[x] Tell the Lead Bandit, that as long as he doesn't do anything stupid, the splints will see to it he will heal from his new injuries without issue. But if he does push things, he will heal badly and will only have himself to blame.

[x] The Mule that ends up carrying the bandit will have it's load reduce and you'll carry it the rest of the way.

The bandit leader only grunts as you break his leg while calmly telling him, and the other prisoners, why you were doing so. His glare gained another layer of hate on top as you do so but you also see the sullen acceptance that he could do nothing about his situation….for now.

Having grown even more fearful of you at your casual display of practicality the other bandits turn into frightened rabbits in human form, jumping at your every command and their absolute best not to be noticed in a negative way. The only exception turned out to be the bandit already missing both of his feet. Not that surprising, you supposed...what did he have to loose after all? He also had the misfortune of having to share a mule with the "broken" bandit leader while you took off most of the loot the animal had been carrying.

You are less than one day from your goal as you suddenly hesitate not far from yet another bent in the road, the hairs on your neck rising as you feel a shiver race up your back. Recognizing the feeling of immediate danger you stop your column and lead everybody off the path into a thick cove of trees, where you leave Harre to guard the prisoners while you ghost through the foliage parallel to the road.

It does only take you ten minutes to spot the men hiding in the trees to both sides off the road in carefully hidden positions. You count no less than twenty men wearing good quality chainmail and leather armour, sword and shield. Everyone of them also had a crossbow and a quiver of bolts close at hand. Unseen you watch them for nearly an hour, catching up snippets of the rare conversation that strung up every now and than. You caught the words "White", "Higher", "Bolton", "Embarrassment" and the general sentiment that the men where send to "clean up the mess", whatever that might mean. You could not spot any sort of sigil upon the clothes or armour of the men, nor could you make out anything else that might have pointed at their leader or overlord.

Frowning you continue to stay in your hiding place, mulling over your options.

X] attack them at once

4,6,5,2,3

2,3

You sneak through the thick forest, using the foliage to cover your approach as long as possible. The first group of men you sneak up to is located furthest from the road, playing dice on a long past fallen tree. They only notice you as one of the dice rolls off their platform, coming to a stop at your feet. Their incredulous gazes turn empty as you cut down all four in half as many seconds, the rattling exhale of their last breaths and the thumping echo of bodies hitting the ground being the only sounds to announce your deed.

2,2,4,2,2

6,2

Crouching low you wait a few seconds before reassuring yourself that you remained undetected and seek out the next group of four men hiding on your side of the road right next to the well trodden path behind thick trees. Again you are a ghost in the wood, slitting throats and stabbing your sword into the neck of three before the last one manages to scream out a warning before drowning in his blood a moment later.

You immediately duck as half a dozen crossbow bolts flash across the road, thumping heavily into the heavy trees around you in a staccato of hard impacts. One, more by luck than design, manages to find your right shoulder, punching right through your heavy plate and digging deeply into the flesh below. (Take a wound)

Grunting in pain you roll behind the biggest tree you can find, the grunt turning into a hiss as you jostle the bolt still stuck deeply in your body. You hand moves to the bolt before hesitating. You could your magic to heal the wound right quick...but using it still took time. Time you would be distracted if the other men tried to rush you or sneak around to put you full of crossbow bolts...which would also be a risk if you rushed across the road, where you would have no cover to speak of.

[X] Throw a fireball across the road NOW and rush after it, discarding to heal you wound

5,5,1,3,5

1,4

Grunting in pain you raise your hand and concentrate, the magic singing within your mind as you gather the eldrich powers and wrestle them under you control. A spark appears over your cupped hand, quickly growing to the size of a ball the size of your head. The reddish glow lights up the surrounding with flickering light, your own wolfish smile behind hidden behind your helmet as you jump around the tree you had been hiding behind and throw.

Cries of alarm and fear echo through the forest as the missile streaks across the road and hits one of the men just preparing to rush across under the cover of the crossbowmen right in the face. He doesn´t even have time to scream before being consumed by the roaring flames, the cries of shock from his brethren turning to actual horror as you arrive in their middle, crossbow bolt still obviously sticking out of your shoulder as you cut down any man in your way.

Five man fall to your furious assault, six counting the still smoldering corpse that slowly started to set fire to the surrounding shrubbery. "Die foul sorcerer!", one screams in mindless panic and fires his crossbow in your direction, missing wildly but refocusing the remaining men upon their goal to kill you. Five more bolts are shot in your direction, all but one missing or being deflected.

The last digs deep into your right side, another river of blood soon joining the one steadily trickling from your wounded shoulder. (Take a wound) You roar in incoherent fury as your view goes white in pain for a moment before being focused again by your iron will. Funneling your steadily increasing pain you beat back the weakness seeking to bring you down through the blood loss and continue to butcher the men now desperately grasping for their swords as they well knew that reloading their crossbows would be their death.

6,1,3,4,5

3,1

Decapitating the first man to reach you you do not slow down, gutting the next two in a smooth movement belaying the heavy injuries visited upon your body. Continuing the swift turn you smash your left sword pommel into the face of another men so hard that you feel your fingers fracture while you carve in the front of his skull. Knowing that you couldn´t hold your sword for long you throw it at one of the last two men, hitting him straight into the neck and all but nailing him to the tree behind him while choking to death on the blade.

The last man, a youth of no more than twenty years of age, looks at your with wild eyes all but turned mindless by fear. Hesitating for a split second he throws down his weapons and goes to his knees before your slowly advancing form. "I yield!", he screams hysterically. "I yield! Spare my life!"

You pause mid movement, your injured body protesting violently at the sudden arrest of motion as you cough up blood, the small trickle thankfully being hidden by your helmet. Being barely able to stand you would still easily able to kill the soldier that had seen what you were capable of...but would that really be the path you wanted to follow?

[X] Clearly pray to Verena so the kid can hear you and then heal yourself with Petty Heal.

[X] Remove bolts if needed for proper healing and then bandage the rest of your wounds if needed.

[X] Calm the kid down and tell him since he has surrendered to us, that no further harm will come to him, but he must answer some questions for us honestly.

-[x] But warn him that Verena is a goddess of justice and truth, who bless her faithful with the ability to see through falsehoods.

[X] Question the kid on who he was working for, why they were out here, who was the guy leading them out here and if there is anything he thinks we should know.

-[x] If things go well and he answers our questions well and honestly and shows an interest in our goddess. Offer him a chance to learn under us in both skill and faith for a better lot in life with a second chance.

-[x] If he lies and/or tries to screw us, treat like him the bandits and be dealt like as such.

[X] After that loot and deal with the dead before heading back to meet with the rest of your group.

"I do not usually kill those that surrender, boy...there is no honour in it.", you grunt and rip the crossbow bolts out of your body. Turning your gaze skywards you quickly chant a small but heartfelt prayer to Verena before healing yourself with magic. A small glittering light is visible through the holes in your plate for a moment, flesh knitting together as the blood flow slows down visibly. A sigh of relief escapes your lips and you again turn your gaze to the youth looking at you with wide eyes.

"As you can see my goddess, Verena, grants me more than just the ability to tell truth from lies. She is the patron of justice and looks ill upon those not staying true to the intent of the law. As such no harm will come to you as long as you speak true...do you understand?"

The young man nods carefully, careful not to make any move that might be interpreted as threat. "Aye, I understand my lord. Ask your questions...you will not find me wanting."

"Very well", you nod, quite pleased at yourself. "What task have you been send here to complete...and who send you?"

"I do not know who send us...Brynden Snow is..was..our commander. He is the corpse to your right, the one without his head if you were wondering. He was the only one to know all the details but as far as I know we were send to kill a bandit named White to clean up some sort of embarrassment."

You frown, your mind working furiously. "And why were you hiding in the woods? Bandits do not usually travel by road, nor are they to be found so close to the local seat of power."

"Brynden commanded us to", he shrugs before hesitating. "There were...rumors."

"Oh?", you prompt, leaning against a tree in the middle of the slaughter you started.

"Yes...he was sure that White would come our way sooner or later but not how. I and others suspected that it wouldn´t matter if he turned up with his own men…. or captured by Forrester soldiers. We were just told to kill White and whoever accompanied him."

"You do not know who send you and yet your equipment is much too good to be regular...which lord is your allegiance to?"

The youth snorts bitterly and looks down grimly, "We are Bolton men but I never swore allegiance to him. My service within his forces is born of the will to survive. After my family was killed I had the choice of starving of taking up the Bolton flag...even with the suspicion that it was on his command that my family died."

"Who are you, that one of the more influential northern lord would take such in interest in your family?", you question after a short silence.

"I am Rikkard Grey, Rik for short, and have never been known by another name….i do not know why Lord Bolton would seek me ill and never found any hard evidence anyway."

"You said that Lord Bolton is the one to pay you...was he the one to send your unit?"

"He might have been...but only Ser Brynden would have known for sure. We do not question if our captain orders...that isn´t the Bolton way, only the way to an early grave."

"Is there anything else, and I mean anything else, that I should be aware of?", you question intently, staring at him with piercing eyes. Rik, by now having calmed down considerably from his earlier panic, grows silent for a long moment before taking a deep breath.

"Aye, milord. On the way here the captain ordered us to kill a unit of Lord Forresters men and take the chest they were protecting. We lost ten of ours doing so and killed maybe thirty Forrester men. I wasn´t actually part of the ambush as I was nearly always chosen to remain with the supplies...not trusted to be part of the actual fight even after all these years."

"That is a very important piece of information, Rikkard. Worth your life, if I am not very much mistaken.", you calmly reply.

"If your goddess is one of justice...how would I retain my life after what I did? The old gods do not look kindly upon what I did, how could yours?"

"Verena does not consider the letter of the law to be all encompassing...the intent behind the law matters. She is a goddess of justice, of knowledge, of learning, of civilization. Yes, some of the things you did...or at least participated in indirectly...would see you hanged more often than not but I see that you are not inheritable evil, nor did you enjoy what your fellow soldiers inflicted upon others.

I see potential in you even if you do not. You remind me of someone and in his memory I would offer you a second chance. Join me under Verenas light and I will teach you what it means to be just, to find a choice even if there seems to be none, to be the man you could become."

"I have prayed to the old gods all my life...you would ask me to forsake them?"

You smile sadly, "I would teach you according to what I believe in, what I stand for...what my goddess stands for. What use would that be if you didn´t believe in what I have to teach? You saw what I did to the other Bolton men under Verena´s guiding light and how it healed me from my injuries...What do the old gods offer that Verena does not?"