OOC: none of the equipment the hobgoblins' possession is magic, but the three breastplates look to be seriously high quality (Appraise DC 20).

Akane swiftly ties up the stunned hobgoblin, then puts a dagger to his throat and waits for the effects of the spell to pass.

Finally, the bandit blinks and seems to regain awareness.

"Please surrender now." Asks Akane politely, while applying a slight pressure to the dagger to bring her point home.

The bandit looks over at his fallen comrades, then sighs: "I surrender."

"Good." Removing the dagger she continues: "Don't try to escape. You wouldn't want to find out what happens to those who lie to me. What should we call you?"

He pauses for a secondm seemingly thinking. "Crevle. My... Companions. Dead?"

"Akane, nice to meet you. Your leader fled. The guy with the sword is wounded, but he will survive. The other one was not as lucky."

Crevle shakes his head. "Leader chief displeased be will. We have no shamen many. Now have plus less many we." Seeing the slightly stunned expression on Akane's face, he helpfully adds: "Shamen."

Akane blinks, then continues: "Right. Unfortunately there really was nothing we could do. Dangerous summon, he didn't stand a chance. What should we do with the body? Bring it back to... Where did you say you came from?"

Crevle looks surprised: "You it bring want we're village to? Back?"

Looking more and more like somebody who bit a lemon to find theat it was half rotten, Akane replies: "You're village... To your village! Yes. We will bring the body back to your village for the proper burial rites. Where was it again?"

Crevle shrugs: "I not. Son leader chief say we not. See know. Blinded cloth hat cap. Say not, see."

At this point Akane is openly holding the bridge of her nose, trying to stave of the impending headache. "So... Your leader was the only one who knew? But how would you go back if he couldn't take you?"

Crevle shrugs again: "Leader son leader chief. He back not, we."

Instead of trying to communicate in broken Common, Leonia switched to Orc.
"Where can we find your village? What landmarks or land features can you see from your village? And who gave you such nice armor and weapons?" She takes the time to mentally inventory what they captured.

Appraise 22 on d20+5.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:38, Fri 21 July 2017.

Crevle looks confusedly at Leonia: "Huh?" Then he adds something in, one assumes, goblin. If one speaks goblin, one better remind their GM :P

The three armors are Masterwork Agile Breastplates. 550 gp apiece.


That's a lot of dough, and definitely not the kind of gear one expects on a bunch of low-level bandits. Though... Explain the fact that their leader son leader chief was maybe.

...by which of course I mean, he did mention that their leader was the son of their chief (at least that's your best bet for a translation), so that might have something to do with that.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:12, Fri 21 July 2017.

"Right, no more traveling with two legs." Lev crouched down and started expanding. Scales, a tail, and wings sprouted from his form as he was entirely overtaken by a white scaled odd looking dragon form. Odd being that he had a number of sets of wings and his claws had webbing as if he was an aquatic dragon of some strange breed. The whole ordeal took about a minute.

He took a moment to shake like a dog, feeling a hell of a lot better now that he was not so close to being squished outright. Once he had fully changed he sat down and watched the exchange. He had no idea what was being said due to the goblin language. But he did assume that his presence would help any attempt to intimidate the bad guy.

Once it is clear the others have things well in hand, and that the two who *can* survive, will, Dakash moves to investigate the hiding spot of the would-be bandits. He is (as a non-dwarf) suitably impressed at the choice of location, and of the qualities the cave exhibits that lend itself to being ideal for ambushes. He wonders how much of it is natural and how much has been worked by hand over the years.

A trap door leads to a small underground room, which is apparently where the bandits lived. There is a good amount of supplies, some minor loot, presumably stolen from previous victims (coins, mostly copper and some silver, cheap bronze jewelry, a few common weapons, some clothes and travel supplies). Two items appear to be magic: a small brazier, and what looks like a large chamberpot.

He quietly hopes the last item is not actually a helmet that's been repurposed.

Leonia spots Lev in mid-transformation. Her string of Goblinspeak cuts off and she simply stares, drawing the attention of the hobgoblin as well, no doubt. She utters "he really is a dragon" in a,soft voice before remembering what she was attempting.  Refocused on the matter at hand, she asks Crevie "you had shiny toys to use. Who gave them to you?"

Now that he has somebody he can speak his own language with, Crevle seems a lot more coherent: "Aktod... That's our leader... He's the son of our chief. We were given good weapons, good armor, good magic, and we were supposed to bring back good loot, and prove to the entire village that Aktod would be a good leader. And now... Now Dru is dead, Bargon and I are prisoners, and Aktod is alone. No songs will be sung about our deeds."

He struggles uncomfortably against the restraints: "You don't really need to keep me tied up, you know. It's not like I have anywhere to go. I don't even know where my village is: Aktod insisted nobody except him knew. We were blindfolded for the entire journey. Just in case we were captured."

Looking at Levithian, he adds: "I didn't think I would be captured by a <***> though." OOC: Now that's a goblin word you don't know.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:56, Mon 24 July 2017.

As Levithian sat there the tip of his tail waved back and forth. He was never someone to have a lot of social power or grace so he was more than happy to let others do the talking. He did,
 however, perk up when it seemed like the bad guy was talking about him. "I am going to assume you are talking about Iggy the frog, or is there a chance for elaboration on the unknown word."

He frowned a little, still able to do so with a stiff upper lip, literally. "It's always a bet, taking away someones way home. They either fight harder to get home or they barely fight so they can survive and find their way home one day. Never a good option as you need to trust the people you run with. Sorry mate."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:52, Fri 28 July 2017.

After a little back and forth with Leonia, Crevle explains that the word he used comes from ancient hobgoblin tales and legends. It can loosely be translated as "an avatar without a god", or "an avatar of itself".

Akane seems to find these stories interesting in their own right, and asks Leonia if she would be willing to act as an interpreter for some cultural exchange.

Bards.

Leonia agrees to the suggestion, if only to ease the boredom of further travel. "Did anyone take injury in that fight?" she asks.

"I was about to ask the same question" says the blue-skinned healer and warrior as he emerged from the hidden cleft. "I saw everyone was still mobile when we took the last of them, and felt the worst of the wounds had been addressed before I left." He eyed Lev for a moment, wondering if he should apologize for not tending the man's wounds immediately, or wait for a 'thank you' for the initial healing he had provided during the surprise assault.

Mending battle wounds was a thankless job.

Dakash goes on to give a detailed report on what he'd found below to the others.

Crevle sighs dejectedly and proceeds to explain (in goblin to Leonia, since explaining it in common probably wouldn't be very helpful) that the sphere and the chamberpot are utility magic items.

The magic sphere is effectively a small portable campfire: it can provide light much like a torch, and can be used to cook food. The main advantage compared to a campfire (or a campfire bead) is that it doesn't emit smoke and won't kill you if you use it inside a shlter. The main disadvantage is that you pretty much have to, since it won't warm you up as much as a proper campfire.

The chamberpot, as it turns out, is exactly what it looks like: a magic chamberpot. Dangerous substances inside the item while it is active will be destroyed or transformed into water, depending on the exact substance. The effect actually extends outward a small distance, meaning the chamberpot itself will always be clean after use, and so will the hands of anybody holding it while it is active.

Whoever designed it evidently had a lot of time and money on their hands. The fire sphere is worth 2000 gp, while the chamberpot is worth 1000 gp.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:25, Sat 29 July 2017.

"I wonder if this means they've recently waylaid a group of nobility?" Dakash gently sets down the two ensorcelled items he'd been examining. He gives a shrug, then turns to try and catch up on the portions of the conversation he'd missed while underground in the cave.

Lev had been very quiet after hearing that his own issue was common enough that there was a legend about it. Legends are things that are very visible at one point and time, from there they get carried by being told over and over. More than that he was brooding on the fact that there was something about him that could be identified by people who know such legends.

Now that was important!

He bumped the blue man with his own scaled shoulder. "Quick thinking in the fight. I would have been in the dirt if not for that."

He shrugged when questioned about wounds, "I still have a large gash across my chest under the scales. If I take it easy and be careful we could save the healing for a fight. I may be greedy for good food and coin but if there are better ways to spend magic I will only whimper a little."

"Sounds like this chief wasted no expense on a favored son. Both those items are extremely useful for an extended stay in an ambush blind. Making expensive armor for three of you as well....how could he hope to get returns enough to pay for the gold he laid out for equipment? How many caravans have you succeeded in ambushing?" she finally asks Crevie.

"They are... Traditional." Crevle explains. "The breastplates were created over the course of many generations, and are used by the chief's heir's warband when they set out for his initiation. Aktod's chainmail was the exception, made specifically for him: he's the first heir to learn magic, and couldn't use one of the normal brestplates."

"The fire sphere has been with the tribe for too many generations to count: the story says it comes from the frozen wastelands far to the south, where the sun turns dark and cold. Its ability to produce fire without also creating smoke makes it very useful while we are hiding. The magic chamberpot... That one's new. Not sure where the chief got it, but he said we needed it."

He thinks for a moment about her final question, and shakes his head. "Not many travelers around, these days. Something seems to have stirred the creatures of the wild, and the roads aren't safe anymore. We almost got surprised by a storm of stirges a few nights ago. Nasty creatures. We only stopped the one group of travelers... And they had very little money."
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:57, Sun 06 Aug 2017.

"...but they readily gave you what they had? So there was a group of people who *did* decide to brave the wilds, but not your banditry?" Dakash is at first leery of trusting anything these wandering rogues have to say, but as the conversation continues, he begins to accept more elements of their story.

"You are very fortunate, then, that you met ones such as us, who are less inclined to be the jury that sees you swing from the nearest tree" he says, reaching out and placing another soothing touch of healing magic on Levi. Not too much, mind you; Dakash had seen warriors who became dependent on the quick healing gifts offered by the gods, and then watched those same people rush headlong into the next battle, expecting to be brought back from the brink of death again. And again.

It didn't always work that way.

"I am curious if your leader is allied with someone that allows him the freedom to raid and plunder at will, rather than turn his tribe into a mercenary clan."


Heal 1 HP on the wizard. :)

Crevle shrugs: "I wouldn't know about readily, but... There were three of them: a girl, and two boys. One real weapon among them, a dagger, and one of middling quality at that. Not a piece of armor on the lot. And the grand total of their wealth amounted to a few coppers. And some half-rotten food. The girl was smart enough to surrender and give us the coppers and the dagger. In return they got safe passage, and could keep the rotten food, their clubs and stakes, their clothes and their lives. I liked her: when the boys tried to argue that they could 'take us', she slapped both of them upside the head. Pity that they are probably worg food by now."

"We are not bandits... Not as a tribe, at least: we usually work as mercenaries for a baron or another, occasionally a count. Most young ones are hired as soon as they become of age, since many of them don't make it back. Setting out as a warband to ambush caravans is a traditional form of initiation, though, and the chief's heir usually keeps the tradition alive. The noble houses know, and turn a blind eye... Sometimes they even hire a warband to seek out these mysterious renegade hobgoblin thieves. It's all a big joke to them."
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:06, Tue 08 Aug 2017.

"Worgs, you say? Perhaps you can tell us a bit more about the local wildlife while we discuss how best to get you home, and awayfrom the wretched way of life." Dakash wasn't naive, but he was curious if this talkative fellow really had his heart set on being a bandit, when there was a whole world of opportunities out there waiting to be had.

Turning to Akane and Aran, Leonia whispers "Well, he isn't snarling or being belligerent. Except for what they were planning, Crevie seems a decent sort. I can't see killing him out of hand. Do we have the funds to 'hire'  an additional guard or two"?

Akane wiggles her nose thinking - an unusual habit she occasionally displays: "We can't hire them unless we contact their village first: they get the lion's share of the money, and would consider them deserters if we just hired them without a proper contract."

"Village money unhappy not get." Crevle agrees promptly. "Message shrine leave temple devil. Contract."

Akane looks surprised: "Formally?" Then, looking annoyed, she restates in a proper sentence: "The temples of Asmodean act as formal intermediaries?"

Crevle replies with a "eh, sort of" gesture: "Message send village forward. Contract back. Contract god, cut part."

Akane shakes her head: "Why am I even surprised... You are, of course, right: he is... Among other things... The god of contracts, and His temples do like to get their slice of the pie. This just got either much easier or much harder."

Crevle shrugs and after thinking about Dakash's question for a moment says, once again in goblin: "I wouldn't worry too much about worgs: they speak better goblin than some people I know, and they are partial to horse meat, but you can bribe them with just about any kind of meat. They will leave you alone for a small amount, and for enough food they might actively help. For a while, at least. Stirges are worse: they cannot be reasoned with, and a swarm of them can wipe out a caravan. Then there are the various critters, plants, and creatures of the wild."
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:42, Tue 15 Aug 2017.

Dakash can only shrug. Who knows if this is the type of mercenary who would steal from them if they left him on watch one night. Or worse, attempt to clear any smudge on his honor by killing them in their sleep. He needed to have an active reason for being a part of the group that went beyond money.

"So these contracts are binding. Do the...soldiers...ever get a say in what contracts are taken by the village? What if they are asked to do something against their wishes? Against their own good moral judgment? Is there a re-negotiation?"

Crevle frowns: "Re...? Chief chief. Chief say, gob... Thing? Do. Gob do."
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:55, Thu 17 Aug 2017.

Dakash got a bow of the head, help give is help well remembered no matter volume or effort.

The talk of a woman and two boys did cause Lev to beat his tail once to the ground. It was equivalent to someone gripping tightly to something as they grow angry. Everyone was having a nice conversation and being civil... Ish... So he wasn't going to interrupt things.

"At least you didn't kill them outright. I would be very cross with you if you harmed women and children."