When the fighting ends, Segev almost glides up to the Baron. Bowing respectfully from the waist, he meets the Baron's eyes when he once again straightens. He exchanges a few quiet words with this local lord. Tanda shoots a look at Segev before getting started with the solemn task of looting the bodies of these fools... Menaria goes to the baron after helping with the villagers. "They will be back...probably with a force." Menaria's face looked strained as she watches the guards take the injured Crusader away. "I offer my healing to any who needs it." She says as she wonders if the half- elf that got stabbed is alive still. The half-elf is dead before you can get to her. However, the dwarf that was hit seems to still be alive, albeit with a very deep wound in his right shoulder area, and is unable to move his arm. Menaria provides healing to the dwarf, as well to any others in need of healing. The half-orc quickly surveys the scene, appraising each of the combatants, bows to the Baron and begins cinching on weaponry and gear that he is obviously familiar with. The half-orc is well muscled, but unusually slim and lithe for one of his race. Beneath a heavy breastplate and greaves, his body bears numerous scars across the surface of his tightly corded muscles from previous battles. His hands are encased in vicious-looking spiked gauntlets and teeth and scalps hang from the leather straps of his baldric and belt alongside a multitude of pouches of every size. Beneath his armor, the half-orc wears a studded leather kirtle and loosely woven shirt and breeches of hemp so worn that they appear more like a fisherman's net than clothing. The half-orc picks up a masterwork great sword with a faint enchantment upon it that has seen many years of use and slides it into the partial scabbard that hangs from the center of his back. The shining leather in the wide and long grip has long since been worked into a smoooth-molded mass by the large hands of the half-orc. The blade is symmetrical and - forward of the slightly flared, hand- span-length riccasso - curves outwards even as it tapers to a chisel point, with a diamond cross-section and a single narrow fuller down the middle. The quillons stretch more than a hand-span to either side and slope gently downwards as they flare out gracefully to the ends and the pommel ends in a fluted steel cone. A horn quiver and leather scroll case slung on either side of the great sword complete the half-orc's outfit, and he frees an exquisitely crafted composite longbow fashioned from layers of bone, wood, leather, horn and sinew from one of the crusader's mounts. The bow has the teeth from large predators lashed facing outwards along its front edge, and the grip he clutches is wood and horn wrapped with leather. The half-orc nods to Korg, Roland and Segev and walks over to Lannstucht. He offers his palm to Dunnstacht and murmurs something to the horse. With the horse’s nose still in his palm, he addresses the Baron in a deep gravely voice that seems long unused. "Thank you.....sir. For freeing me. I....am in your debt. My name is Drakar, and my sword and my art are forever more at your service. But I am afraid I must go and search now for my companion. He was gravely wounded by those fanatics. I must find him, and soon." The half orc regards the rest of the group, and fits the blank but molded faceplate of his helmet over his face. His dark matted dreadlocks fall freely out the sides and back of the helmet, painted wooden beads woven into them clicking softly against one another. Lannstucht wonders with some amusement exactly how long this Drakar wishes to stand there with Dunnstacht's serrated steel incisor caps buried in his palm. Perhaps it is some form of male machismo or post-battle atonement ritual? Still, he obviously does have orc blood, as his bones are not yet bitten through. She finally shakes herself free of her thoughts and says something sharply to the rangy golden buckskin, who reluctantly releases Drakar's hand. Drakar lets Dunnstacht scrape his teeth across the palm of his steel gauntlet. Murmuring softly, he greets the golden buckskin softly in its own tongue even as it continues to gnaw with His gruff demeanor and the feral cast to his features makes it difficult to succeed with his Wild Empathy ability. Drakar nods towards Lannstucht as she orders Dunnstacht to release his hand, in appreciation of another who speaks the wild tongue. Roland quietly walks over, picking up the dull grey cloak and tossing it over his shoulder. He sighs to himself with a shrug as he walks off in the direction of the tavern. Korg draws a piece of cloth along the blade of his great sword, wiping it clean before casually resting it across his right shoulder. He surveys the scene once more before turning to the Baron. "I realize our assistance was not asked for. You are well within your rights to deny this, but will you grant permission for me and my companions to collect what we can from the slain in compensation for services?" He asks this in a way such that it's fairly evident that it's close to memorized, and something he's had to use a lot in the past; it's a little too well worded and smooth to be impromptu. The baron nods his assent to Korg, somewhat distracted by what Segev is talking to him about. That done, Korg turns to the half-Orc that they rescued, eyeing him as he girds himself in arms and armor. "Korg Magnusson," he introduces himself in a gravely voice, obviously having a somewhat similar parentage as Drakar. "What do you mean by art?" Despite having his sword still out he asks this casually, more a tone of a person curious about the answer for its own sake than a person wanting an answer to decide whether to maim someone. The wolf, which is large and black with a couple minor streaks of silver down its muzzle, looks around the surroundings carefully as well. It sniffs the air briefly, then walks in front of Drakar and glares into the half-orc's eyes. An unnatural spark of intelligence seems to be behind the creature's eyes, and almost as assuredly it eyes the villagers. Trotting over to the horse, it literally transforms into a human being holding a large precious-looking medallion, of which the human quickly hides beneath his chain shirt. Standing around five and a half feet tall and looking to be somewhat young to be adventuring (about seventeen years), he pats the horse's head. Looking back at the others, you can see his eyes are a sharp brown and his hair is black, with very minor silver highlights. His skin is very white, as if it's had minimal exposure to the sun. Despite this, not a single scar, scratch, bruise, or blemish can be seen on his body. On his back he carries a very well-made full length bastard sword with a minor enchantment on it. Over that he has a vicious-looking and shiny spiked shield. Slung over his shoulder is a well-made ordinary backpack, and as armor he has a chain shirt that some would describe as mithril. His clothing is plain and ordinary: A grey cloth shirt with a leather vest, leather breeches, and a faded green cloak. On his feet are sturdy, but quiet shoes, and around his neck there's a simple silver chain which could be assumed to carry the medallion. Oddly enough, Lannstucht doesn't bat an eye at the were's transformation, as if such a thing is well within the realm of utterly mundane life. He speaks to Drakar in a solid, but quiet, voice. "I know you're worried, but Narush is fine. If you wish to see him, I've made sure he's easy for you to find." Looking over at Korg Magnusson, he smiles. "And you're Korg? Good to know I didn't come out here for nothing." He puts his hand out to the large half-orc for a shake. "I'm Kyran Wakefield." "This one of your relatives, Korg?" Glim asks, nodding to half-orc. He'll make a quick job of cleaning the barrels of the two guns he fired, and will carefully unload the other. As he does, he'll be casting quizzical glances at Kyran. Korg raises an eyebrow slightly at the transformation from wolf to man, but doesn't seem too alarmed. He does look slightly more wary at the mention of his name though, and having come all this way. "Where have you heard of me?" he asks, somewhat suspiciously. He does sheathe his great sword though. "You'll understand that there are those that would see me dead, of course," Korg adds by way of explanation. Kyran takes his hand and shakes it much more firmly than his frame would indicate. He shakes his head. "I don't mean any harm; that I don't. I did hear that you, as well as a number of adventurers, were on the trail of a mind flayer. I, too, am searching for it. Perhaps we can work in each others' best interests?" He blinks once. "Oh, I suppose you're wondering how I did that." Korg smiles slightly, relieved that Kyran has an explanation that doesn't involve assassination. "Perhaps we could at that," he replies evenly. "I've been to many places and seen many things," he continues, "but others might be wondering." "Simply put," Kyran continues, "it is magic. But I doubt that solution would justify most people's inquisitive nature... Regardless, I am glad I was able to help dispose of some Redwater scum. I don't believe they enjoy your company either?" Tanda smiled. "They certainly don't enjoy ours, that's for sure." She extended a hand. "Tanda Cantwell, the only good thing to come out of Redwater since... well, the original non-human inhabitants." Kyran takes the hand and shakes it firmly. "Oh, I wouldn't say the only good thing since then. After all, I'm not a bad thing either. But nice to meet you, as you don't share the racist views that so many others of your nationality do." He goes about looting the corpses as well. Lannstucht reins Dunnstacht over and vaults to the ground. With a short word, she turns away from the now-immobile stallion and nods graciously to the latest arrivals. "I am Achmuid Diasstacht Ruanntich Miruint Lannstucht of Rochlad and the Rochladastacht. Welcome to our midst." She speaks again to Dunnstacht and he trots to the loose horse, bringing it back to her after a very brief bout of squeals and posturing. She smiles wryly at the group in general. "Well, what is another traveler in our midst? Certainly we are quite an assortment as it is. Perhaps the Baron here will even lend us an elf to round us out into a boxed set of children's toy adventurers." Glim's attention is gained by Lannstucht's jest and the wheels in his head start spinning. "That's not a bad idea, lass! Could probably make a good copper or seven selling commemorative figurines. Packaging, though... It'd have to be something to grab the eye, but not too expensive to make..." After a couple of beats, he shakes his head and returns his attention to the here and now. Kyran looks over at Lannstucht. "I am grateful that it is your midst that I wandered into, and not someone else's, as now I know I am welcome here." He grins. "Pleasure to meet you... May I simply call you Lannstucht?" Glim looks at the shields and other equipment left by the Crusaders and gets an idea about the two large shields. "Korg, lend a hand here with these." He makes a quick sketch of his idea for making them into a gnome-size moveable bunker. "Yes... I think I can do something with this." Drakar turns to stare at Kyran and his voice drops to a menacing rumble. "What do you mean by 'made easy for me to find'? What ARE you Kyran Wakefield? And how is it that you know about Narush?" The leather wrapped horn grip of Drakar's composite long bow creaks slightly revealing the subconscious clenching of his hand. The muscles throughout his body tense collectively at Kyran's words, like a coiled spring as he stares at the proffered hand. Kyran looks taken aback by Drakar's words. "I was simply trying to say he's not in any danger and that I left a trail for you to find him. I'm sorry if you feel I didn't do the correct thing. The reason I came here to help was because of him, after all." He takes a deep breath. "And if you want to know what I *am*, can't you see for yourself? I'm just a human, like many of the others here." Drakar's voice softens somewhat. "Show me this trail then. Take me to my companion and I will call you friend if we find him alive, and ask you to forgive my rudeness." Seeing the interest some of the others seem to have taken to him, he goes on to explain. "Those men had attacked and crippled Narush when I returned to my camp in the woods. I saw them firing arrow after arrow into his side with cruelty and malice as Narush tried simply to get away. My only regret is that I was unable to kill more of those monsters." Drakar's voice is filled with bitterness, and he looks upon Kyran expectantly, waiting to follow the man. "You will excuse me if I am reluctant to trust a stranger I have just met after such events." He eyes Kyran warily, still gripping the composite longbow tightly. Kyran nods and turns to walk out of the town, with Drakar following. As Segev and the baron talk, the baron stiffens up, and then stiffens up even more and starts glancing nervously over the village walls towards the north. After they are done with their discussion, one of the baron's soldiers rides out the village gate down the road in the direction the Crusader took off towards. Segev bows once more to the baron before returning to join the others. Oddly preoccupied over something as piddly as treasure, he doesn't seem to notice the new adventurers at the moment. The baron approaches the group, frowning. "I appreciate your help in taking out those fanatics," he states. "Despite that, I insist that you leave immediately. Take your spoils and leave, before more trouble erupts." "As much as I enjoyed giving the priesthood of Yohevohe what for," Tanda said, "your offer sounds very prudent. A pleasure doing business with you. Come on, Korg; help me get these on our horses." Roland is gone before the baron speaks, away from the rest of the group. He leaves no trail or clue of his departure, and the long grey cloak is resting upon Glim's wagon. His fair share of the other loot has been taken, and the man left no note or anything else with the innkeeper as to a clue on his whereabouts. Korg nods to the baron and leads Grithak, his heavy warhorse over. He works on transferring the plate barding from the fallen horse over to his own mount, as he had never had the opportunity to purchase such. This in addition to whatever Tanda looted for them both should make this a profitable fight. As soon as he's done securing the barding to Grithak, Korg will take off with the rest of the group. Tanda idly pockets the star ruby, promising herself she'll split it with Korg. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Meanwhile: "I made sure he was stabilized when I left," Kyran explains, "but I felt I should find his... friend to take better care of him. I'm not terribly talented when it comes to those arts." Going down a short, but seemingly non-existent, path he comes to a place where Narush is resting. A dish of water can be seen near his mouth, as well as an opened package of rations. "As for how I know his name, he told me himself, saying you'd understand." Narush, a large, black dire wolf, is lying on his side as you approach. Drakar can tell that his wounds have been bandaged; however, there is still a lot of red on those bandages from where he's bled. He looks up at Drakar and Kyran as they approach with large eyes and a pleading look on his face; his tail starts wagging. Kyran walks over to Narush and rubs him on the head, not in the least worry of getting his hand bitten off. He murmurs something into the large wolf's ear, and then looks over at Drakar. "I've done what I can do, but I really am only a beginner." He smiles sheepishly. "Narush was very worried about you. It's good to have a friend this loyal to you. It'd be wrong if it was broken up." Drakar quickly checks over Narush's form with his hands, removing the bandages and feeling carefully under the spiked scale mail armor barding that covers the massive black dire wolf. Murmuring to the spirits, he calls upon his arcane arts to convert the spells provided him by the spirits into healing magic for the dire wolf's wounds. A cool green glow surrounds Narush, and his wounds knit together rapidly. All that remains of the experience in a few minutes are dried blood upon his fur and the used bandages. Turning in a crouch to look at Kyran, Drakar growls. "They will pay dearly for this. Narush and I will track them to the ends of the earth and harry them to deaths door before we send each and every one of them through it. This I swear." Drakar stands, turning back towards the village and Narush jumps to his feet and shakes, the scales and spikes of his armor rustling against one another as he moves to follow the half-orc. Moving quickly, Drakar and Narush retrace their path back to just outside the limits of the village and inspect the ground where the fleeing crusader left. Peering closely at the marks, they barely notice the other adventurers heading out, although the huge spiked form of the dire wolf undoubtedly attracts attention. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Segev spends a couple moments studying the decapitated corpse of the leader of the Crusaders, then goes and picks up the helmeted head, and places it on the corpse's chest. His quiet tones carry as he announces, to the shock of most who know him, "I would like to claim this man's gear as my share of the spoils." He then notices that Glim seems already to be playing with the shield, and amends, "Or, rather, his armor and sword." That said, he walks over to Lannstucht, being wary of Dunnstacht's biting range, and asks in a more private tone, "May I request your assistance carrying my share out of the city? You have a new horse that it can be draped over until we get to a suitable camping site, if I may impose upon you for that long." He smiles hopefully at Lannstucht, excitement dancing in his eyes like a boy at a carnival...or a cat who's gotten into the cream. Amused by the sudden display of emotion from the normally taciturn Segev, Lannstucht nods her agreement. After searching the horse's gear and examining the horse itself quite closely, she helps Segev load his loot. Re-entering the inn, Lannstucht tosses a few coins to the landlord in exchange for some traveling provisions. Outside, she mounts up and waits for the others before setting off down the trail. Glim looks up from his notes when the baron gives his eviction notice. "Getting the boot already? I haven't even set the stables on fire yet! Not that I ever really do, mind you. But it's something would like to try at least once. Maybe in the next town." Heading back into the inn, he'll gather up anything he left there. Coming back out, he gets Tanda's attention. "Seen Roland about? He left his cloak behind." Once the armored body is positioned in a stable position on the saddle, the helmeted head safely tucked away in a bag hanging from said saddle, Segev stands guard next to it while waiting for the others to congregate. He has yet to overtly notice Kyran or Drakar, and stares off into the distance, seemingly not paying attention to his surroundings. Glim gets the mules and his wagon ready to go as soon as the rest of the group's ready. Kyran quickly makes his way back to the group. He encounters them as they are making preparations to leave town. "Say, wasn't there another with you? And wasn't there a cloak that was with him? I was fairly interested in it before leaving to help Drakar help find his friend, as well as keep him from hurting me... So, if you could tell me where it is..." He trails off. Katrina has procured a small share of the loot, mostly gems and whatever weapons are left. Ananzi, having followed the others to the wolf (and telling it in no uncertain terms he is with the party), hurries back, as Paia circles overhead to get a bead on Roland. Katrina busies herself by saddling and leading out Alastyn. Roland, however, is nowhere to be seen, and Paia reports this to Katrina. At the baron's comment, she nods. "He will be back, and bring reinforcements. I am sorry we did not bring him down. We will try and kill him before he gains allies, so that your people may be safe." This said, she climbs onto her horse's back. Alastyn snorts, then as Katrina readies herself to follow after the others with all speed. Getting the wagon rolling, Glim keeps behind Katrina. His pistols are tucked into his belt and his musket is ready to hand just behind his seat. To those without mounts, he offers rides. "Better one of ye be here to take the reins should I need to put out some shots." Segev politely declines Glim's offer, preferring to walk beside the horse that is carrying his share of the loot. Menaria, however, does take up the offer of the ride from Glim. She smiles warmly at him as she takes a seat for the ride. Kyran speaks up again as he walks along, with a somewhat firmer voice. For some reason he's walking along with the rest of you, even though you may or may not know why. "I'll walk myself. You must be the rest of the group that left from Caer Zitheral. I don't suppose you would mind an extra hand assisting you?" He asks hopefully. .oO(They don't seem very nice... I wonder if coming here was a mistake, even if they are trying to stop that illithid.) Keeping his eyes on the road ahead, Glim decides that it would be helpful to know more about the werewolf. "Aye, that we are. And we'd gladly accept whatever help we could find in this venture. Tell me about yourself, stranger. I've not met many werewolves that were more interested in justice than in others peoples' throats." Kyran blinks. "Eheh, a werewolf? Well, I guess that's what most would think I am, certainly what they thought back at Redwater... Um, my name is Kyran Wakefield. I'm a ranger, although I'm not too good at it yet, but I am really good at following tracks and stuff. I've just been wandering about after getting... I think forcibly evicted is the right words, and upon coming to Caer Zitheral I found out about the murder. Knowing whoever left would need help at least locating the creature; I hurried as fast as I could in your direction." He smiles. "Mom and dad taught me a few things about magic and nature in general, but this is my first time meeting with some people for adventuring. I hope I didn't do anything wrong." Menaria's smile moves to focus on Kyran. "I, for one would appreciate your help. For more assistance will be needed I fear. What does your skills lie in, may I ask?" Kyran turns to Menaria. "Um, my skills? I'm pretty good at hiding and stuff, and I've always had keen senses. At least that’s what they said back home. And I know about some stuff, like what part of a horse is good to eat..." He thinks. "Oh, and I know how to fight! Kinda." Menaria nods at Kyran. "I am Menaria, and you being a ranger will definitely help out I am sure. Especially if we travel through any woodland areas. Keen senses definitely will benefit. I'm sure in time you will excel in the skills of a ranger. Have faith in yourself." She smiles warmly at him once more. "We would definitely appreciate your help." "Then welcome to the party, Kyran," Glim tells him. "Maybe you can help me with a few things later when we camp tonight." Glim's mind starts into its usual activity, although he manages to stay in the here and now enough to pick up any further conversation and respond at least semi-intelligently. Kyran smiles. "Thank you. I'll try to help, but I don't know what you'd need help with." Lannstucht turns a cold eye towards Kyran. "Get one thing straight. You are welcome to travel and hunt with us, but you touch a horse and you die. There's plenty of other game around. Fair enough?" Kyran snickers. "Oh, I wouldn't want to eat a horse anyways. Their meat is really stringy... No, deer and rabbit are much better, especially if you have a little fowl to go with it." Katrina, overhearing this, adds to the order. "Same goes for the fox, bird, and any other familiars or companions." Kyran just rolls his eyes at this. "Oh please. I'm not going to go eating your pets and companions, although your fox looks rather tasty, yes it does." Ananzi is obviously less than amused at the remark, snarling at Kyran, before disappearing into the underbrush at a look from Katrina. She remarks to the rest of the group, "He's gone off hunting. If we need meat along the way, both he and Paia can at least bring in rabbits occasionally, to supplement what the rest of us bring in." He smiles at the fox. "But truthfully, how important they are to you is something I know." Segev's eyes flick briefly to Katrina. "If he is wise enough not to eat a horse belonging to a traveling companion, he is probably equally wise regarding other animals similarly attached. He seems a polite enough youth, no need to insult his intelligence." Katrina nods. "You are correct." She looks at Kyran. "I apologize, though your joke didn't sit well with Ananzi. He may avoid you for a while." Glim busts out laughing at everyone's sniping at Kyran. It's so bad he almost falls out of the wagon. "Kyran, me lad, that is the first time I've ever seen anyone break Segev's brooding calm. And don't mind these others. Like as not, they're wishing it could've been one of them as done it!" He continues laughing. Segev doesn't respond to Glim's comment at all, having turned his attention once more to the road ahead. Segev walks along in silence, not at all responding to Glim's comment, while listening to the newcomer and his own companions’ questions. His "brooding calm" seems unperturbed. His own examination of the boy is made with an unreadable expression, but when Kyran inevitably notices the unsubtle stare of the black-robed mage, he is left with the inescapable sense that he has been weighed. Now, if only he could tell if those cold eyes had found him acceptable, or wanting... Kyran blinks, and then turns quickly to Segev. Kyran looks somewhat agitated and uneasy, especially after spotting Segev's 'companion'. "What are you doing? Why are you staring at me like that?" "Merely...curious," is Segev's blank reply. Kyran replies uneasily. "Uh-huh... What about?" "You, for the moment." "Go be curious about something else then..." Kyran goes about looking around, breaking off the conversation there. "Relax," Tanda said. "He does this to everybody. You'll get used to it after a while." She then added in a stage whisper, "(Or you'll have a psychotic episode.)" -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- While the rest of the group divvies up treasure, loads mounts, and gathers their equipment and gear, Drakar travels light and fast with his dire-wolf companion, Narush. The two scour the earth, following the tracks - and in Narush's case, the scent - of the lone crusader sent riding back. As they run, Drakar keeps an eye out for signs of scouts or ground good for such. At the slightest sound of an encampment, they leave the trail of the crusader and circle around stealthily, approaching said encampment and keeping eyes and ears out for scouts. Drakar keeps a cautionary hand on Narush in a familiar spot amid the armor spikes. With his steel spiked gauntlets he's less worried about getting hurt than making noise, but he doesn't want the dire wolf running off without assessing the situation first. In his other hand, he holds an arrow ready and nocked to his bowstring, and a spear grasped in front of and in line with the bow. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Drakar is the first on site, as the scent trail Narush indicates leads him out to the road. Lying on the side of the road is the Crusader, chalk white and not breathing. A trail of semi-dried blood heads down the road towards the village the party just left. A brief examination of the body indicates that, while there is a bruise on the side of the face where he landed, the primary cause of death was extreme bloodloss. He estimates that there is about a pint of blood left in the body; the rest of it is somewhere on the road. The Crusader's horse is nowhere to be seen. The party comes up a few minutes later. As the group approaches, Narush stands in the road in a defensive posture, growling at the party; in particular, the horse carrying the body of the other deceased Crusader. Most of the party has not yet seen Narush yet: a dire wolf as large as a horse, adorned with gold tinted and spiked scale mail barding. A slight breeze flows through the sub-tropical forest, and the blood stains on the cobblestone road are apparent. Not far off the side of the road is a fairly large firepit, still smouldering. A quick search of the site indicates that there were about two dozen people camped there the previous night, and carved into a nearby tree is a simple six-pointed star; easily recognized by all as the symbol of the -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Everyone: Give yourselves 200 XP for the session instead of the standard 100, due to the sheer number of replies I received (80 by my count) Also: 200 XP to Drakar for staying in-character regarding Narush. 100 XP to Roland for staying in-character when leaving the party. 200 XP to everyone for general paranoia. ;) Reminder: use "REPLY TO ALL" when replying to posts. At least one of you fails to do this, and I have to have replies forwarded to me.