Cort looks skeptical at Zenobia's mention of magic.  Few humans have ever seen it and fewer still can wield it.  It is obvious that he has never seen one who could.

"It is acceptable to me," Mattaeus answers almost eagerly.  If what Cort said is true, then the bandits will be outnumbered in reality.  Vengeance will be in the hands of the villagers this night.

"By your leave, my lady?" Cort asks.  "If I do not survive this night, it has been an honor and a pleasure to finally meet you."  He winks and walks off towards the bandit camp.

Zenobia smiles..

"When the time comes, and it shall and soon, you shall hear the whisper of my voice in your ears even when the clamour is greatest. No other shall hear this. If you but murmur a reply I will hear it."

(OOC: Still your move.  Everyone is waiting for you to tell them what to do.)

Zenobia turns to Matteus..

"Have your people get ready to run to their homes. The sight of your people fleeing  to the supposed safety of their houses will spur on the black hearted among the bandits."

"When the bandits enter they should see your shield wall in front of the headman's house with your people streaming through the door. This will spur the evil amongst them once more, taking them past the huts where my men and I wait for the signal.

"When they are past I shall use my magic to signal Cort that now is the time. Halbrech will fall on the black hearted men of his band and the hidden villagers will emerge from their fortified huts with stones, rocks, spears and slings.We  shall burst out of concealment and seal the trap shut. Have a few of your people on the roofs act as witnesses on what occurs and who does what, taking no action but for that."

"With luck it will be over in the space of ten breaths. Those trying to flee will run the gauntlet of stones, spears and arrows. If Halbrech attempts trickery we shall know it. If they do not act in good faith then we shall sow their blood in the soil till they drop their weapons and surrender."

"I shall now return to where my men have been in hiding this night, and we shall see how the dice fall."

Vander catches Zenobia before she goes.  "How will we know who is the wicked and who the defector?  Will we not run the risk of harming Halbrech's true men?"

In reply to Mattaeus Vander (msg #31):

Zenobia nods,,

"Halbrech's men will hang back while the others charge the Chieftain's house. The ones before you at this point will be the the vilest of the lot. Once Halbrech's men form a line at the rear, anything between you and them will be an enemy."

"We cant risk the good ones wearing an arm band or a feather or some such thing for fear it will give the plan away. I will give Cort further instructions on what to do to identify his friends and himself when they come. This might change from one moment to the next."

"Just to be on the safe side if you have lime, dye or some such thing, place a barrel near the entrance to allow the good ones to mark themselves apart. This is dangerous though, since it would be highly visible to the others, so much depends on whether the good and the bad are mixed in with each other when they come. I think it likely that this will not be the case since the fair and the twisted will likely stick together. I think the fair showing some reluctance would doubtless not raise suspicions too greatly."

(OOC: Using the spell message)

All the preparations are made and the people of Swiftpier are in place.  The attack comes two hours before dawn.  At first things go like clockwork.  The more anxious, aggressive of the bandits storm in and begin causing havoc.  Another group hangs back and finds the barrels quickly marking themselves while the others aren't watching.

When Halbrech's more noble men begin to attack the renegades, they are surprised and a few fall.  The others quickly regroup, angered by the betrayal.  The villagers attack is a bit disorganized and not as effective as hoped and the renegades manage to shield themselves and split up.  Three of Halbrech's men go down and then the renegades find the barrels.

Now the town is filled with individuals and couples of bandits and it is nearly impossible to tell who is who...

Zenobia emerges with her men. They form a shield wall blocking retreat and begin advancing into the fight.

Message spell - "Cort, gather your men to you in a circle".

Then using her voice to its full potential she cries over the sound of battle..

"Renegades of Halbrech's band, throw down your arms and surrender. If you want to live your only chance now is to throw yourself upon our mercy".

She points to Cort, wherever she sees him...

Defenders of Swiftpier do not attack the men around the [she describes Cort's appearance] and points to his location with her sword.

With that done Zenobia begins singing a song of bravery. +1 to morale versus fear, +1 to hit and +1 damage.

Her troops then advance towards Cort's position. Her captain at arms says "drop your weapons" to any fighting pairs they encounter, those who surrender are bound, those who do not drop their weapons are treated as enemies and brought down.

With the arrival of reinforcements and the bard's song, the sounds of battle soon fade.  Cort, along with about ten other men, stand in a circle off to the side.  Another fifteen are on their knees, completely disarmed, most wounded, and all of them boiling.

Throughout the town there are a few who are too wounded to move to the center and a few more who are dead.  Thankfully only one of these is a citizen of Swiftpier.  All of the others are bandits of one ilk or another.

"Well played, my lady," Cort smiles from the circle.

Zenobia is too concerned about the dead and the wounded to do more than nod at Cort's words.

"Villagers of Swiftpier, soldiers of Riverhill, it is finished. No more shall you live under the shadow. No more." Zenobia sheathes her sword.

It's plain from her face that she did not enjoy this experience, indeed she is pale from seeing so much blood and hearing the screams of the wounded and the dying. She looks back to Cort, her message spell still in effect, she subvocalizes a question to him.. "Are you Halbrech?".

The villagers start to emerge from their homes.

She then looks sternly at the fifteen on their knees. "Bind them and keep a close guard on them. Ensure that they make no mischief. Tend to their wounds, one by one under close guard. See that they come to no further hurt so long as they cooperate but if they try anything you have my leave to hurt them."

Zenobia walks away from that moving towards those lying still or groaning in pain.

"Now we must tend to the wounded and the dying". She looks over at Cort "Do you have any healers among you?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:16, Sun 03 Aug 2008.

"We have none," Cort replies.

Before he can say more, the young messenger, Kennon, comes running up.  "They've...taken...Naria."  He is out of breath and distraught so his words are barely understandable.

Cort looks around and does a quick mental count.  "There are five men not accounted for.  All renegades."  He turns to the young man.  "Which way did they go?"

Kennon, bent over, hands on his knees, points back towards the jungle.  "Trees," he gasps.

Cort looks pointedly at Zenobia, asking permission to persue.  He is still not telling everything.

Zenobia looks at Cort, "There's something you're not telling me. It'd be best if you tell me soon. I'll take it badly to find out later. Go, we'll be right behind you."

Then she calls for Ramthorn and Sydor her ranger/scouts.

"We have to go into the forest. Ramthorn, I need you to move unseen and locate the girl. Do what you can to make sure she comes to no harm, I figure if you shadow us you'll likely have your opportunity. Also if there's treachery I don't want you to try and get me out. Send a message to Riverhill, Marcus Apulus is there. He'll know what to do."

"Sydor, I need you to make contact with the Anthros if you can, and bring them to me if you can."

Zenobia gathers her ten best men around her, and leads them into the forest, pushing hard to catch up with Cort and the others.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:55, Mon 04 Aug 2008.

Dawn comes and with it, the signs of a brief struggle and footprints of the assailants.  It is difficult to ascertain how they are carrying the missing woman.  Cort leads a few of Halbrech's men off into the jungle after the trail.  Zenobia's rangers leap to obey her commands and soon, she and ten others are following.

At first the trail is easy to follow, but eventually the renegades split up.  One here, another there.  At each place, Cort and the three other men that came with him pick one set and follow that trail.  Zenobia follows more slowly because of her larger force.  As she comes to the first split in the trails of the renegade forces, she sees a trail blaze marking which way Cort and the other of Halbrech's men went.

[Private to Zenobia Aurelius Gracchus: Roll spot check.]

I rolled a spot check, it was a 4, for a 10 in total. It's on the dice page. Sorry I have no idea if, or how, I can have it displayed here.

Zenobia is wary now, this smells like a trap to her. She signals her men to parallel the path, so as not to be sitting ducks by moving in a column. It's a skirmish formation, designed to allow lightly armed and armoured men to take the most advantage of cover. Some of her men draw missile weapons, javelins and darts and the like to supplement their shields and provide cover to the leading elements. She falls to the rear and centre with four swordsman around her.

[Private to Zenobia Aurelius Gracchus: You just copy and paste the line from down below the dice roller on the dice roller page.  Also, you can add the +10 into the roll when you roll it. :)

Also, do you wish to take the path Cort took or the other one or split your men and follow both?]

[Private to GM: A +10? Is that what they mean by taking a 10 then?]

Zenobia ponders whether to split her forces for only a moment. No, this was new territory and some folk were being economical with the truth. She sticks with her skirmish line and advances shadowing the path that Cort took, her men and herself moving from cover to cover.

[Private to Zenobia Aurelius Gracchus: Sorry, I meant +6 for a total of 10. :)]

Eventually Zenobia's group catches up with Cort.  He alone stands at another split in the trail.  "I don't know.  They are good.  I can't tell which direction the one with the woman went."

The rustling in the trees is the only warning anyone has.  Suddenly a furred ball of claws and teeth barrels into Cort and knocks him down.  Several more dive out of the trees and attack men.

[Private to Zenobia Aurelius Gracchus: Roll Initiative.]

[Private to GM: You rolled 14 using 1d20+1 ((13)).]

Statement of Intent:
Full Defence (get back to a tree if one is available within a five foot step, so that it's difficult to get bowled over.
Shouts "To me!" to get everyone into a circle.
Start Singing for the +1 to hit, damage and morale.

Hopefully the soldiers carrying javelins and thrown weapons with shields as the skirmish second rank will get a chance to use them as the enemy closes. Do Zenobia's insightful anti-ambush preparations give us any additional bonuses?

Keenly aware that something was not right, though incorrectly identifying the nature of the problem, Zenobia's men instantly react to her command.  Several move in front of her to protect while the rest wrestle with the attackers, stabbing them and trying to pull them off of those underneath.

Three of the attackers go down as pincushions owing to the ranger's vigilance.  Cort is saved that way, though he has a terrible gash running the length of his left arm.

The song helps a bit too and keeps the humans from immediately succumbing to the threat.  There are more than thirty of the things, though.  Easy enough to kill, but overwhelming number-wise.

Zenobia's quick thinking gets everyone circled up around her (and the tree) and creates a momentary stand off where everyone finally gets a good look at the attackers.  They are no more than chest high, covered in fur and loosely resemble cream-colored raccoons with tan masks.  They walk upright and their only weapons are wicked looking claws and a mouth full of over-long teeth.  Triangular ears sit near the top of their heads and twitch this way and that.  It is evident that the singing is curious to them, something they don't understand, but it does not otherwise affect them.

Zenobia has but a moment to issue orders.  Her men are better trained against the wild beasts who look semi-intelligent, better armed for sure, but outnumbered three to one with one or two more of the things trickling in every few moments.

Shield wall make and hold
Hold here and be not bold

On the off-chance that this is not merely a territorial reaction from wild beasts but rather an attack directed by some intelligent master she also sings..

We enter here seek a stolen child
Please be at peace do not be riled

She sings her orders not wishing to end her singing. Behind her shield wall Zenobia reaches for flint and steel.

The thought occurring to her that these things seemed only semi intelligent, making their fear of fire perhaps their only hope. If the elder races were of a mind to watch over their forests they would might see the smoke rise and come to investigate.

Once Zenobia has a fire going, and if the attacks continue unabated, she will start throwing burning branches over the shield wall. By virtue of a channel ringed with fire, and burning brands tightly held, she hopes to lead her people out of the ambush.

If the attacks cease she will pass brands to her soldiers, one to each pair and wait for a short time to see what happens.

The soldiers hold, even after the brief respite ends and the furred attackers begin again.  One man goes down, wounded, but without armor and longer reach weapons, the monsters can't get through.

When the fires get lit and begin to ring around the outside of the fighters, the monsters do back up a bit.  One touches the bright flame, wondering what it is, and yelps as it singes his fur.

Archers take out four more of the things before the rest decide they've had enough and scamper off into the jungle.

"Bravely done. Put those fires out. We don't want to make enemies of the Anthros whose lands we are in, a forest fire would do that."

She points to every second soldier, the sword armed ones, even as she kneels to help with first aid to the wounded man.

"Grab a burning brand and hold a tight, if it dies find another branch and light that. The fire will hold off wild creatures and our arrows will take care of the rest."

She turns her attention to the wounded men.

"We'll have you patched up in no time, Finn, Cort. It's but a scratch." She says this even if it's not a scratch, by way of comfort.

Zenobia ruffles Finn's hair, grinning, and gives him a sip of water from her waterskin. She's known Finn since forever and her care for him is obvious. Cort is older than she is, almost like a big brother in some respects, so she doesn't ruffle his hair and grin, but treats him with more deference. This is Zenobia's war band, it's not like an army, it's more like a travelling family with swords and armor.

"Well Cort, this could be a wild goose chase we're on. I think the only way we're going to find this little girl is if we can attract the attention of the Anthros.  If you can walk a while longer, we'll set to singing as we walk with fire to hand. With luck we'll meet the natives and find this little girl before it's too late."

"I don't think it will take long," he nods towards the trees.

In the morning light coming through the edges of the jungle, five extremely tall humanoids covered in fur step out of the trees.  At first some of the men tense, thinking these are larger versions of the small creatures, but then relax as they recognize the familiar form of Anthros.

They wear little more than their fur.  A belt here, a wrap there, mostly to hold items.  One carries a large sack that is relatively empty.  Another, wearing a flowery crown, walks with a massive branch as a staff.

"The fijur are nasty little monsters, but they will bother you no further," says the one with the staff.  She looks familiar and soon Zenobia recognizes it as her friend, Spatha, whom she met a few years ago and who likes the bard's voice.  Zenobia's torc was a gift from the kind jungle giant.