Rondald was breathless as he followed Terri into the stables with only the light of a single lantern to see by.  It was not even dawn yet and his wife was already a tizzy of energy, chatting so non-stop that it was beginning to make Rondald's mind hurt.

In truth, she had been excited for weeks.  She had been the one pressing the hardest for everyone to come to Craine when word had been passed of the promised reward.  It wasn't greed or expectation of anything grand, and indeed Terri's expectation of the reward was very modest.  It was the how that seemed the most important to her.

"But we are going to be personally recognized, Rondald!  By a Duke!"  The memory replays itself in Rondald's head, reminding him how he was swindled into agreeing to go.

Though Rondald was in no way looking forward to the event, he had to admit that it seemed a small price to pay for his wife's good tempers.  Indeed, she had been as happy as Rondald could remember over the last few weeks.  There had been spots of anger here and there in the prison of Perdition, but by the time the mission was through she had been as thankful and as doting as she had ever been.  She had made herself invaluable on several occasions during the trip back by keeping the peace with Finn, distracting him when he reminisced (as he often did) about all the mistakes they had made and the treasures they had missed.  Here in Craine, she had been productive and engaging, offset only by the few brief stints of nausea from some passing sickness.

So if a little social discomfort was the cost for keeping his wife in such good spirits, Rondald was willing to pay it.

"Hey girl!"  Terri steps into the stall which holds one of their two mules, the chestnut colored female with a softer temper than their wide-shouldered gelding.

Nodding towards the stable-hand mucking out the stall across, Rondald pauses for a moment, thinking he recognizes the man, though after a moment he throws the thought aside.  After all, they had spent a few weeks now in Craine waiting on the pleasure of the Duke, and there was no doubt he had seen the man here in the stables or else walking about the town.  Rondald turns to his wife who is wearing a new, pale green dress with ivory lace about the hem and sleeves.  Hung by a silver chain about her neck is the large ruby that was the most of her cut from the last job.  Still, there she stands, in all her finery, rubbing the mule's soft fur just between the eyes.  Rondald can't help but smirk at the sight, knowing that she is far more at home here with the animals than she would be in a hall full of nobles.

"Don't worry girl, we'll be back soon!  And we'll give you oats, because you deserve it.  Not to worry, we won't be here much longer, right Rondald?"  She turns her head to her husband, though she does not wait for an answer before she turns back to the mule and continues.  "Just a day more and then it's back for home."

OOC:  It is 0400 on the 13th of June, 2005.  Note that this is before you have gone to the gathering with the duke, and you do not yet know that you have been knighted, nor that Terri has not been recognized at all.  Feel free to respond as you see fit, though I do need a bit of admin from you before we progress.  What do you plan on taking with you to the Duke's palace?  If I don't get any answer, I'll assume that you take only your weapons and armor.  Also, if you wish to have sold anything prior to this point, give your character sheet a look over and let me know what and I'll give you a quote on all the items you want sold.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:56, Mon 20 Apr 2020.

Rondald was concerned about the ramifications of making a mistake in the court, but he was equally aware that they had to be there. He had grown close to all of them, but even closer to Terri, and seeing her so happy made it all worthwhile.

"Perhaps you should spoil yourself with some silk underwear, dear. So you can enjoy it even when you should not be seen to be too wealthy."

Fine clothes we're nice to wear in the right place, but much of the time in their line of work the attracted the wrong sort of attention. But then, the clothes he was used to wearing seemed out of place here. In all honesty, so did he. They had sold all of the cheap weaponry and the old suit of mail. This leathers we're so much more comfortable, not to mention stylish.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:43, Thu 23 Apr 2020.

The "reward" of the duke had not been what Rondald was expecting, that much was sure.  But to say it had been not what Terri was expecting (despite the fact that she had expected very little) would be an understatement.  While Rondald was recognized perhaps the most of all, Terri had been recognized none at all, she had perhaps even been seen as an extension of Rondald.  Some had even been surprised that she was there at all when Rondald had been congratulated after the fact.

While Terri had been boisterous and positive all the way to the duke's castle, and she had put on airs of contentment during the event, her demeanor had changed quite markedly the moment they had walked out the front door of the Duke's castle.  She had become brooding and quiet, and Rondald could feel, more than see, the unfettered rage that boiled under the surface of her skin.  At least Rondald knew for once that it wasn't his fault.

The quiet at least gave Rondald some time to think.  For he was perturbed, not just by the honors that had been bestowed upon him, but for the offer which had come as he had tried to make his way quietly out the door.  Thomas had approached him, and handed over a letter which had nothing but his name on the front and a wax seal on the back holding it closed.  He had broken the thing open as he walked away and down the street, Terri already too deep in her funk to notice.

Rondald,

Pleasure meeting you today.  Perhaps if you feel the same you will consider a short term employment.  I find that in order to keep peace in the Duchy I must expand our citizenry and integrate ever more freely along our borders.  My recent expedition is in an area you are familiar with.  I am establishing a small town on the tri-border near al-Wazif and Caithness, that will be looking to mine the local area for various minerals and expand trade along our less populous borders.  I believe this effort will be vital in keeping the peace with our neighbors to the south.  I find myself in need of a good sherif to establish the law on Three Corners.  I can think of no man more fitting than yourself.  If you find yourself agreeable, please return correspondence and I will be happy to discuss terms.

Kind regards,
Duke Bran

Rondald's thought enveloped him as he walked, wondering exactly what the job of 'sherif' would entail not to mention how well paying it was.  He had always expected he would simply head back to Raphael after going to Craine, and the thought of going back to Three Corners had never even seemed to be a real option.

This was the way that Rondald and Terri made their way back to their hotel, each brooding, the one over their his future, the other over her past.  It kept them near silent all the way up until their hotel room.

"Rondald, did you not lock the door?"  Terri's voice is accusatory, though Rondald knows full well that he had locked the door prior to putting the key in his pocket, yet here it lies the latch undone and hanging just shy of closed.

Terri hurries a step forward, pushing the wooden portal open before Rondald can reach it, though she stops there in the doorway, drawing a loud, slow breath.  "Oh my god."

Rondald hurries behind her to see.  The room has been thoroughly rummaged through, their clothes and things are strewn everywhere... Rondald's first glance is to the corner where he had laid his crossbow and ammunition, all of which are missing.

OOC:  You definitely locked the room before you left, but the doorway was slightly open when you got here.  It is obvious that things have been taken, though you can't figure out everything at a glance.  Roll vs. IQ+2, for each point you make it by, I'll let you in on one item you are missing.  It is worth noting that all your animals, as well as your tack, are in the stables, which you have not looked at yet.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:21, Tue 28 Apr 2020.

"The door was definitely locked, but I suspect we both know what they were after. What Finn said no one knew about..."

Glad he was wearing his knife and axe, he looks around angriy.

"I don't see my crossbow. We should check the animals were in the stable, and ask who was seen leaving with a crossbow. I will lock the door on the way out for what it is worth..."

He keeps everything he was carrying and waits for Terri at the door.

"I think I have a way to make the Duke recognize your contribution, too. We should talk about it later."
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:48, Sat 25 Apr 2020.

Rondald searches the room quickly, knowing he is missing quite a lot of her personal effects, though he can't quite put his finger on everything...  His shield had certainly been sitting just there and was now gone.  So too was his bag and the various things within...  His first real thought though, is for the mules.

"Shit you are right!"  Terri slaps her head, and the two set off (after carefully locking the door) down to the stables.

A quick glance is enough to ensure that the two mules are still accounted for, not to mention the tack hanging on the wall of their stable.  Terri walks into the stall to comfort her girl (or perhaps to let the animal comfort her) though Rondald turns his attention to the stable hand.  As Rondald approaches, the man pulls a flake from a bail of hay to feed to one of the animals.

The man has sandy brown hair and a prominent jaw.  Though he is not large, he seems well muscled and has a thin film of shiny sweat beading on his forehead to match the thick, dark stains of sweat that pool underneath his neck and his arms and at the wrists of his leather gloves.  The man's skin is worn and a dark olive color, reminding Rondald of the men he knew on the ship who spent near all their days in the sun.

"Can I help ye?"  The man stops, leaning back on a single hip as he sees Rondald approach.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:50, Tue 28 Apr 2020.

"Not sure. Say, you don't look like a local. Where are you from?"

He watches carefully the man while Terri checks the gear.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:23, Tue 28 Apr 2020.

"Me?"  The man seems somewhat taken aback by the question, though he answers easily enough.  "Suppose I'm not really a local, but I've been here a few years.
 As local as anyone else I suppose.  Though I'm from a small town out east fore that.  Jess on the outskirts of Yibyorak.  How come?"  The man leans slightly on the wall.

"It's all here."  Terri's voice comes from the stall before she reappears heading towards their gelding.  "Let me check the other one too."

"Fair enough then. So you would know if there were folk here who did not belong here? Came without a crossbow, and left with one, for example?"

He smiles and nods to Terri, getting out of her way if needed.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:26, Fri 01 May 2020.

"A crossbow?"  The man asks, seeming surprised.  "I've been in the stables most of the afternoon, It's feeding time you know?  But I can ask around for you I suppose.  Can't imagine somebody toting around a crossbow in broad daylight would be that hard to remember."

"It's all there."  Terri comes back from the other stall, the concern on her face somewhat relieved after finding the mules unharmed, though she still has her face set in determination.  She steps forward to Rondald, "So what do we do?"  She asks, her fine dress at odds with both the stable and her scowl.  "We're not going to just let this happen right?"

"Hell no. But whoever did this planned it well enough, I think. Probably looking for something in particular, which we did not have, so I suspect we have not seen the last of them. For now, we will ask this young man and the innkeeper, who has probably been bribed to say nothing, to a few questions. Lets get all this up to our rooms for tonight.

Young man, if you could please ask around, and look after our mules. Thank you."

If he has any money, he will give him a silver or something similar.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:05, Sat 16 May 2020.

Terri nods, a look of concerned frustration on her face.  "I'm not sure it's any safer up there, though I will feel better having it close.  Too bad we can't do anything better with the animals."  Terri looks over to the stable hand, smiling slightly before saying, "Thank you for taking care of them."

The man nods back with little fanfare, though he thanks Rondald when the sailor hands him a silver penny.  "I'll keep an eye out.  An if'n anyone knows about your crossbow I'll let you know."

OOC:  You actually took all of your money with you - I didn't want to cripple you overtly for this adventure.  Where do you want to go now?  You sort of mentioned two different possible avenues in your speech (talking to the innkeeper and taking all the stuff upstairs) though you didn't state you were doing either of them in your actions.

"Thank you"

OOC:  Yes, we would most definitely have had all our valuable with us, much like we take our wallet with us today whenever we go somewhere. it should be assumed with us unless stated otherwise.

Rondald will take the items upstairs with his wife, before heading down to speak to the innkeeper. If Terri wants to stay in the room or come with him, he will let her decide, but room will be locked either way.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:27, Fri 22 May 2020.

Though there is little more than tack in the stables, Rondald grabs the halters and lead ropes and the saddle bags as he searches around for other things...  He checks in the saddle bag briefly... this had been where his medical kit as well as his potions had been kept... two more things he was fairly sure he hadn't seen upstairs...

Rondald thanks the man and the two head back upstairs to their room, stowing away what they have and cleaning up what little is left.  Rondald quickly finds that his medical kit is indeed missing, and neither can he find the potions amongst the mess.  Terri takes the moment to change out of her new dress, putting on her normal clothes... though she keeps on her new necklace just to be safe.

It is well into the afternoon by the time that Rondald and Terri make their way down to the front room of the inn, Terri's anger now entirely replaced with a sense of concern and anxiety.  The inn keeper stands at the counter, smiling as Rondald and Terri make their way into the common room.

"Afternoon folks!"  He says jovially.  "Can I offer you a late lunch?  We've had a lamb stew going since this morning that's as savory as I've seen!"

OOC:  Just to be clear.  You had all your money.  Not all your valuables.  You took your weapons within reason, and your money, though that was the extent of it.

Despite the innkeepers jovial attitude, Rondald is much more serious.

"There are more pressing matters than food, sir. Your establishment it seems has very lax security, and we have been robbed of all valuables. My weapons and first aid kit and a number of other items are also missing. I will enjoy my food much more when they are recovered..."

The more significant valuables would be known to us, no? Since it was the same morning (though in real life it was months ago!).
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:29, Fri 22 May 2020.

The inn keeper's face turns towards anger and surprise as Rondald begins to speak, though as Rondald makes clear that they have been robbed, and in his inn, his face contorts back to mostly shock.

"There must be some sort of mistake!"  The man attempts.  "I've been here the whole day but for a stop by the toilets!  None have been through but the other man with the other room upstairs and my employees!"

OOC:  I am sympathetic to not knowing all the valuables that might be missing, but unfortunately I'm going to stay the self-righteous, megalomaniacal GM.  Your first post in this thread was almost exactly just one month ago, and to be fair, I specifically asked you to look over your gear and tell me what you brought.  I've given you an IQ roll in places where you could have reasonably been reminded about the things that you lost, but just saying that "it was valuable so I should remember it" doesn't hold water, especially if you have never mentioned or done anything with the items in character.

"Well then, that narrows the field somewhat. Let us check on the man upstairs, and then check your employees, so that their names may be cleared. If one of them is guilty, then indeed your name will be cleared as well. I also suggest closing the inn, or would you prefer I call the guards for that? It would appear items were stolen from our room and the stables...so perhaps at least one f your employees is not beyond suspicion, although the stable hand said he saw nothing too."
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:46, Sun 24 May 2020.

The innkeeper sputters as Rondald suggests going upstairs to the other guest.  "He's not even here!  He stepped out this morning and has not returned."  The man says, though Rondald continues talking right over him.

It is when Rondald suggests that the innkeeper himself is under suspicion, and that the inn may be shut down, that the man widens his eyes in shock.  "What!"  He rages, his face aghast.  "Who do you think you are?  Is this a shakedown!  I am not responsible for your things and I certainly am not going to close my doors to business while you search for whatever possessions you couldn't manage to keep safe!  I provided you with a key, did I not?  Did you think to lock your door?  Perhaps that would have helped!"

Terri's eye's go wide as she holds up two hands, shaking her head as she faces the innkeeper.

At the back of the room, a middle aged woman, wearing a dark dress with an apron on the front steps out of an open doorway, a curious look on her face.  "Everything all right mister Dennick?"

OOC:  I think there might be a little confusion sewn in here.  Nothing was stolen from the stables.  I did mention that you normally kept your first aid kit and the potions in the saddle bags -- though you had emptied them and brought the contents up to your room rather than leave them in the common area.  Everything that was taken was taken from the room.  The stuff left in the stables (the saddlebags, halters, and other tack) was all still there.

"The door was most definitely locked when we left this morning, but not when we got back. You could get emotional, and shout and scream, until the whole town knows, or you can calm yourself down and work with us to find the culprit, and thereby clear yourself. Your call, of course...

We could start with this guy that stepped out this morning...what did he leave with?"

He kept his voice firm, despite the hysterics that seems to indicate more guilt than innocence. It could, of course, be an over-reaction to a strong suggestion that it was in his best interest to help, but one could not rule out it being something more...
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:56, Mon 25 May 2020.

"Clear myself!" The man fumes.  "I do not need to clear myself in my own place of business!"  The man's jaw is set forward, his eyes slightly bulged out of their sockets.

The man shakes his head wildly.  The woman at the back with the dark dress shifts her concerned look back and forth between Rondald, Terri, and Mr. Dennick.  Several moments pass before the innkeeper finally exhales forcefully, the muscles in his face releasing as he turns his head to the woman in the back.

"It's fine Natalie.  Our guests have been robbed...  We are sorting it out.  Please get along with your duties."

The woman's eyes go wide as she glances at Rondald and Terri, though she quickly follows the word of her employer, and ducks back through the doorway she had enterd.

"Please, sir."  Terri starts, taking a much more conciliatory tone than Rondald.  "We are just trying to find our things.  Certainly you could tell us about your other customer?  We just want to know what he left with."

"Just a satchel I think."  The innkeeper furrows his brow in thought.  "My usual customers are merchants... I had assumed he was another of them.  We didn't talk much this morning, he had breakfast about sunrise and set off.  His room is taken through tomorrow."

Despite the carrying on, Rondald kept his cool. Then his wife did her part. She was a great compliment to him in many ways.

"Do you think we could check his room, with you of course, so that you know we do not take anything that does not belong to us. It does seem suspicious that he is booked until tomorrow, but left today..."
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:16, Wed 27 May 2020.

The man thinks on Rondald's suggestion for a moment, but quickly shakes his head, his jaw still squarely set.

"No, I'm afraid I can't let you in...  I have another key of course, but the invasion of your room does not permit the invasion of all the others.  He's paid as much for his privacy as you have for yours, and I have a reputation to keep, after all.  If I go sacking everyone's room every time there is a disturbance, I'll never get another guest.  I'll help you in another way if I can, but that is asking too much."

His face furrows slightly, but he answers after a quick thought.

"Fair enough, there are rules. Since a crime has been committed, then I will ask the guard to check. Or you can check yourself, and if there is a crossbow there, then there is reason to investigate further. You are staff, after all..."
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:13, Fri 29 May 2020.

The innkeeper bristles slightly.  "If you insist on calling the guard, and they ask to see the room, then I will allow them, of course.  Still..."  The man places both of his hands down on the counter.  "I don't see why you can't just wait until he comes back tonight and ask him yourself.  If he is your culprit and he doesn't return, then I'll be happy to open up the room tomorrow morning."

OOC:  If you want to take things to the guards, feel free to head out and look for them.  As a side-note, you are doing a great job roleplaying your callous disadvantage, but I think going to the guards may be a bit against your loner one.  Please make a SC roll (12 or less) if you want to go that route, if you fail that option is out.  You'll also have to make a reaction roll with all your normal modifiers.

Rondald considers.

"And suppose he is the culprit, and is not coming back? Giving him a days head start for what good reason?"

He looks at the innkeeper intently, rubbing his beard in thought, before placing both of his hands on the bar opposite to the innkeeper, bringing the two face to face.

"And suppose he is not. I will not know until tomorrow morning. I really do not want the guards here, but right now I have no leads, and neither you nor any of your workers have given me anything else to go on. Tell me, if you were in my position, what would you do? Just let them run off while we wait until tomorrow morning to check the neighbour? The guards are the only ones I know of who are experts at tracking thieves. Would you not call them?"

He looked carefully into the mans eyes, seemingly daring him to try to lie to him.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:01, Sun 31 May 2020.

As Rondald grips the counter, putting himself face to face with the Innkeeper the man initially retreats, pulling himself back a step, though he quickly steps forward again, his face hardening and looking Rondald straight in the eye.  "Suppose the culprit was your wife!  Suppose it was the Manites who came to take you in for crimes to the nation!  Suppose it was any number of things which are increasingly unlikely!  Just because something is possible does not mean that you have the right to demand that others prove it is not so!  You have no evidence!"  The innkeeper sets his jaw as he steps back, his face puffed up with frustration.

Silence fills the moment as the innkeeper paces behind the counter.

"Fine!"  He finally erupts.  "Call the guard!  If they come and insist that I open the room then I will!  And if you are wrong!"  The innkeeper points an accusatory finger at Rondald, his face set hard in anger.  "Then to hell with you and your missing things!"

OOC:  Just let me know when you want to head to head to the guard, or else if you want to do something different.  If you want to go to the guard, please make a reaction roll.  Include your +2 for status, and any other reaction modifiers you have including the -1 for callous.

"My Wife was with me...with the Duke! So it was not here, not was anyone coming to take me in. But you are right...I have no evidence, that is the point, so it seems you force my hand in getting those who can gather evidence. I had hoped to resolve this quietly, but you seem to insist we involve outside investigation, or just wait an entire day! So outside investigators it is..."

He will look to Terri. "Do you want to ask the guards, dear, or should we go together? I am not sure I want to leave the room without supervision. The security here was not sufficient while we visited the Duke."
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:04, Tue 02 June 2020.

The two men caught in the impasse, Rondald raises his voice in kind, not content to be shouted down by this property owner who had clearly not been doing his job as Rondald and Terri were gone.  He offers for Terri to go to the guards by herself, though Rondald's wife does not answer in words, her panic-stricken look and tiny vibrating shakes of her head are enough of an answer as he bids her to come with him out of the inn.

"Are you sure that was wise?"  Terri asks as Rondald pulls her along the street, looking for the nearest watchmen.  "I mean, I'm not happy that we were burgled in his inn either, but perhaps there was a better way to go about that?"

The search is not as quick as Rondald had hoped, and though he does manage to find one of the guard stationed at the market, the man redirects him towards the guard station located some several blocks away.

By the time Rondald finds the station, his stomach is gurgling from his missed lunch, though he knows that finding his things is the much more important issue.

After a moment of explaining the situation to the first of the guard that Rondald meets, the man fetches the captain of the guard, an middle aged man with salt and pepper hair and a pristine uniform.

"Good afternoon, sir.  Captain Geoffrey Talinson at your service."  The man introduces himself, inclining slightly towards Rondald.  "What seems to be your issue?"

OOC:  It is 1400 on the 13th of June.  You have lost 1 fatigue from missing lunch.

"Whilst a guest of the Duke, it seems that thieves were having their way in our room. The innkeeper has not been helpful in finding the culprit, wanting us to wait while the thief made off with our items to see if he came back. I thought asking the experts might be a better idea."

Rondald ignored his stomach to speak with the man. Unsure if he could offer any help, it was worth checking. All the while, there was a niggling doubt that the man might return.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:33, Thu 04 June 2020.

The captain nods appreciatively as Rondald mentions the duke, and gives satisfying snort of indignation as Rondald mentions that the innkeeper wants to simply let the theft happen.  Though when Rondald ends, asking for ideas, Geoffrey seems somewhat confused, as if waiting for Rondald to finish his statement.

When nothing more is forthcoming, the captain raises an eyebrow and says with enthusiasm, "I suggest you not let the thieves get away.  If you have an idea of their names or location, I can send a man out to bring them in.  All the more if we find your possessions in their clutches.  When did this robbery happen again?  Time is of the essence of course, it does not normally take long for stolen goods to be fenced on the underground markets."

The captain pauses, assessing Rondald for a moment to see if his suggestion hits the mark.

"You are, of course, correct. That is why I wanted to search the other rooms, since I was told by the innkeeper that no-one else had been to the rooms. I do not know who to suspect just now, but I do want to rule people out. I can rule out the other occupant if we return promptly and check his room, something the innkeeper was unwilling to allow. I would appreciate you accompanying me for such a search, preferably immediately."
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:35, Thu 04 June 2020.

"Unwilling to allow?"  The captain is taken aback at the statement.  "It seems reasonable enough a request, odd that he would be so resistant."

"Certainly I shall accompany you."  The captain says after a moment, turning to one of the guards to leave them with instruction for while he is gone.  "I'm happy to help get to the bottom of this."

The walk back to the Golden Candle is not a long one, though the streets are bustling with afternoon foot traffic and shoppers for the markets, which slows down their progress somewhat.  Rondald takes the time on the way back to keep his eyes peeled for any signs of his stolen equipment making its way to a vendor.  However, Rondald sees nothing more than a normal afternoon crowd in the city and before long they are standing back in the great room of the inn, with Captain Talinson only a step behind.

The stable hand sits at the counter, talking lazily, and the innkeeper still stands behind the desk, his brow furrowed in consternation.

"So anyway, I was saying that he probably just..."  The stable hand notices the look on the innkeeper's face, and turns to see Rondald at the door.  "Oh!"  The stable hand stands, heading towards Rondald.  "I was going to tell you that I asked around about your crossbow.  An' ain't nobody seen it."

Behind the stablehand, the innkeeper still looks murderous and doesn't even wait for the lad to stop speaking before he interjects as well.  "So, I see you've brought the city guard?"

"What did you expect? I did say that was my intention. Thank you for asking around for me about my crossbow..."

He hands him a few coppers, before turning back to the innkeeper to continue in a cool voice.

"If nobody has seen it leave, it either left very quietly, or it is still here somewhere. Now if you will kindly bring your keys, innkeeper, we can see if our stolen things are still here."

He turns to the guard. "Would you like to start your investigation in our room?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:28, Mon 08 June 2020.

Rondald puts a few coppers in the hand of the stable hand who smiles and thanks Rondald before the four, Rondald, Terri, and Captain Talinson led by the innkeeper, who jangles the keys at his waist, hurrying along towards the private rooms.

"Your room?"  Talinson responds to Rondald with surprise.  "Certainly not!  I'm sure you've already looked there.  The other patron I thought was where you were looking to go, the reason you asked me to come.  Let us see what is in this man's room so that we can start crossing out your suspects old boy.  I would like to be of use for the time I'm spending here."

"I'll just help myself to a pint mister Dennick!"  The stable hand yells from the main room as they leave, to which the innkeeper ahead responds, "You'll bloody well pay for it then!"

The four continue down the hallway, nearly to the end.  The innkeeper stops at the second to last door, sporting a painted number two on it.  He knocks first, and hearing no response from within he lifts his key into place in the lock.  He fumbles around with the lock for a moment, pushing the door open just a slight bit, looking in timidly at first, before finally pushing the door open completely and stepping inside just past the doorway.

"Are you happy?"  The innkeeper's anger seems boiling to the surface, a smirk of self-righteous disgust smeared across his face.  Rondald and Terri walk into the room behind, stepping forward into a small bedroom, nearly just like their own.

There are a pair of shuttered windows on the back wall, a foot and a half square each.  The single, narrow bed is tousled, the sheets hanging askew off the side.  There is a small wardrobe, in which a clean-looking set of clothes lay folded and a large bag lays folded at the bottom.  There is also some small type of painting kit, with a set of brushes that range from very small and thin to circular and a half-inch around.  The paints themselves are very thick - almost dry and vary little in color.  They seem to mostly be a variation of a creamy-gold, though off on one corner there is some black and a square of bright red.  Next to the kit is a small, cloudy mirror.

Needless to say, none of the items seem to be Rondalds.

"Are these your things?"  The captain steps in behind Rondald and Terri, looking at the small collection of items.  "I think perhaps that you can cross off one person from your list."

OOC:  To save some in character time, Captain Talinson is not going to do an investigation.  The guard is a peacekeeping force and has no real investigation arm.  At times, they are tasked with activities like that by the Governor, though they mostly handle it by roughing people up to get information and jumping to conclusions.  They will however, haul the thief into prison if they have evidence to link him to the crime.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:09, Thu 11 June 2020.

"Of course, Captain. I am just wanting to cover all bases." Rondald says in answer to the Guardsman's response at checking their own room.

Once the room has been entered, and the possessions not found, Rondald answers the Captain.

"Thank you Captain. Yes, I think that this person does not seem to have them. It would have been better to be able to cross them off the list before, though..." he says, more to the innkeeper than anyone else, before continuing.

"...but thank you for taking the time to come and check. But before you go, the thief must have entered the inn somehow. Either he snuck in unseen, or was someone who had some right to be here. Innkeeper, that raises the question: How could have someone snuck into your inn unseen, and who else was seen entering?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:53, Thu 11 June 2020.

Looking over the small wardrobe, Ronadald is quite sure that this man is not their culprit, though he is quick to find more questions to narrow his search.  The innkeeper, however, does not seem to be having any of it.

"If you are finished in this innocent man's room, then I must insist you leave immediately.  He has done you no harm, yet you insisted on forcing your way into his room.  Perhaps you think you can bowl your way through everywhere you go, but not in my inn!  So Out!"

Captain Talinson swivels his head quickly to the innkeeper before turning back to Rondald, his eyes wide with surprise.  "Good heavens!  Has this man been so antagonistic this whole time?  I had wondered why it was necessary for me to come for such a simple matter, but now things seem to be falling into place!"

Innkeeper Dennick stands at the door, resolute, and gesturing towards the other three to be on their way back into the hallway.

Rondald looked coldly at the innkeeper.

"Unfortunately, yes he has. He does not seem to understand the importance of ruling out innocent people, or perhaps he does not want innocent people ruled out. Either way, we can leave this room, but I will ask you to look at our room now to see if you can determine if the door was forces, or someone used a key. That would narrow our search down considerably...can you tell if a lock was picked or if the key was used, Sir?"

He led the Captain past the innkeeper to his own room nearby, ignoring the angry outbursts of the innkeeper, but remaining polite so as to highlight the contrast.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:48, Fri 12 June 2020.

Ronadald and the Captain walk out of the other guest's room without further protest with Terri tagging along behind, and the innkeeper walks out last, closing the door and latching it with his key.

Meanwhile, Rondald and the Captain continue on up the hall, passing room number three on the left, and stopping at Rondald and Terri's room, Captain Talinson bends over and looks at the lock.

"I'm afraid there's not much I can help you with there."  The captain explains.  "Any thief who has learned his foul trade won't look any different than a lock opened properly with a key.  Of course, even if a lock has been jabbed and bruised by lockpicks, it won't look that different than a drunk stabbing clumsily with his key."

The captain stands up, shaking his head at Rondald.  "For what it's worth, I don't see any evidence of tampering."

Terri walks up behind the men, giving some room as she contemplates the situation, her mouth a thin line of worry.

The innkeeper too follows behind and pauses when he gets to the group.  He still seems angry, though as Rondald opens up the door and show the empty room within, his expression softens somewhat.  "The windows aren't more than just the shutter."  The innkeeper offers, pointing at the wooden slats that cover the window.  "If someone did manage to steal your things, it would be easy enough to pass the smaller and medium sized items through the window.  It leads towards the back alley, which is busy enough most of the time times of day.  Still, it's easy access to the other nearby shops and stores that share the alley with us."

As they look at the door and the guardsman gives his assessment, Rondalds brow furrows.

"Thank you sir for looking. Perhaps you might see some evidence in our room I missed."

He had other work to do, and things like this did not help at all. A new crossbow would have to be sought. He glanced around to see it Terri had lost her bow as well, as well as tents, bedding, canteens and personal basics. It would cost easily all they had earn't. He was glad he sold many smaller items, and that he no longer had the plates from the dungeon that Finn had buried. He would hate to admit that the man was right to bury them, but right now...it looked that way.

Rondald sizes up the window, estimating in his minds eye if the crossbow would fit out of it, and looks out into the alley, seeing if anything familiar can be spied. As he does, he answers the innkeeper

"Not if. Clearly there is no crossbow here, and there was one this morning, among other items.

So where would such a thief most likely fence these items, in your opinion? Obviously you know the area much better than I do."

As he listens to the answer, a thought occurred to him.

"I have heard there is magic that can track a particular item. Is there any who might know that here?" Rondald asks the guard.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:25, Mon 15 June 2020.

Rondald walks over to the window, opening the shutter latch and pushing the shutters open, searching the wide alley for any sign of his things.  However, Rondald sees nothing familiar, only a few piles of refuse and mud which cling in the corners.

Rondald Responds to the innkeeper's attempts to obfuscate the situation, pointing out again quite clearly that he had brought a whole slew of items into the room, and that they were clearly no longer there.

He continues on, however, asking to the room where a thief might fence the items.  His head still poking out the window, Rondald is not expecting the response of both the men at the same time.

"How should I know where thieves!.."  The innkeeper starts, the blood rising again in his voice.  Though Captain Talinson speaks at the same time, cutting off the innkeeper mid-sentence.

"Craine is a big city.  There are plenty of sellers on the black market and plenty of men that will take goods elsewhere to sell them where they cannot be traced.  Unfortunately, the only one of those men that I know is currently held in the stocks, so I doubt he would be of much use to you."

As for Rondald's question on magic - the captain shakes his head.  "The mage's guild sometimes sells their skills to those who wish to pay for it, but that is not something I have experience taking advantage of.  I will tell you that their services are not inexpensive, though perhaps it would be worth it to find your belongings."

OOC:  Ok, seems like you have a few different ideas.  It is about 1430 right now, so your time is limited.  Let me know which order you want to take to follow your ideas.  A crossbow may be a little difficult to find, though with your status you'll likely be able to pull it off.  The mage's guild will likely be easy to find, though it may take you some time to find someone who knows the spell you are looking for, if you find someone at all.  Terri's bow was also amongst the missing items, she did not take it to the castle.  Let me know what you want to buy or where you want to go from here.

Noting the innkeepers over reaction, once again, he responds more directly this time.

"Innkeep, it was a simple question about the city in general. Are you new here? I assumed not, therefore the question was legitimate. Perhaps the goods have never actually left the inn...what do you think, good captain? Where would the innkeeper put it if he helped himself? Or perhaps he just knows something he is not telling us..."

He turns slowly and looks directly at the innkeeper, holding eye contact.

[OOC: He is interested in checking the innkeeper, to be sure, then replacing, in order, Personal basics, Canteens, tent for 2, Terris Bow, His Crossbow]
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:40, Mon 15 June 2020.

"A simple question?"  The innkeepers sputters, and as Rondald goes on, the innkeeper only gets more irate.

"You incontrovertible ass!  I have none of your things!  I have done nothing but help yet you only hurl insults and provocations!  Where do you find such gall to inflame anyone you please!"

"Enough!"  Captain Talinson snaps, raising his voice over that of the innkeep.  "He is not wrong that you constantly overreact!  What are you hiding man!  I have half a mind to clap you in irons just to soften your tongue!"

"You wouldn't dare sir!  No decent man could..."

"I have reason enough to haul you in now!"  Talinson raises his voice higher, his eyes flashing fire as he stares down at the innkeeper.  Mr. Dennick seems to breaks somewhat, stepping backwards, some of his surly confidence departing his face, though it appears the damage is done.

"What say you?"  Captain Talinson looks at Rondald, his eyes still etched with a cold fury.  "Should we take him for a night just to see if he can find a new way to be helpful?"

OOC:  What does 'checking the innkeeper' mean?  Do you want to search his person?  If you have ideas with what you want to do please be specific so I know where to move the story.  One way or the other, your words have moved the story on far enough, which presents you with a new option.  Captain Talinson is offering to haul the innkeeper to a holding cell under charge of theft and is asking your opinion.  Please state if you want to take him up on it.

Ronald looks at the innkeeper with surprise.

"Cooperative? You held us up from checking other room s until I got the guard, wasting hours unneseccarily. You claim to have seen no one, but clearly someone came and left with our stuff. You have been so busy covering for yourself you have been also covering for the criminal! Maybe they are one and the same. What evidence can you give us to the contrary? If you need time to think about it, the good Captain will be most accommodating, I am sure..."

Turning to the Captain he answers "I am no judge. Let him decide by his actions, shall we? He has been here all day, and surely knows the area well. He has to know or suspect something...."

[The idea is to get his stuff back. By checking the innkeeper, I had in mind checking his body language. He seems that he may be hiding something, so really this is intimidation to ensure cooperation, and possibly to check his involvement. He has been at the front desk all day, so Ronald thinks he must know more than he has said, which raises questions as to why he is staying quiet.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:37, Mon 22 June 2020.

"Covering for myself!"  The innkeeper immediately rises back up in flames, stepping forward to Rondald as if ready to strike.  "You are a liar and a hustler!  You come to my inn seeking restitution for something never lost!  I will not be browbeaten by a villain like yourself!"

"Enough!"  Talinson steps forward, his chest setting up a blockade between Rondald and the innkeeper.  "I have had enough of your animus!  You have not helped in any substance but have attacked and obfuscated instead!  By your own action you have indeed chosen!"  Talinson looks back at Rondald, making eye contact for only a moment before turning back to the innkeeper.  "You will accompany me to the station, where you can think on how a decent man acts!"

The innkeeper's eyes widen, though his defensive front does not break.

"If indeed the good sir does intend to take this to court you can ensure I will make a full account of your actions."  Talinson continues.  "I would encourage you to come quietly for your own sake."

The innkeeper stares daggers at Rondald, pulling the key ring from his belt before he begins walking back towards the front desk and the entrance.  "Certainly."  The innkeeper says coldly.

With a glance and a nod backwards, Captain Talinson follows Mr. Dennick.  Terri, still somewhat in shock at the exchange follows with Rondald a close step behind

"Ivan, do me a favor and keep things moving here.  I'll pay you triple your normal.  I'll be back as soon as I can."  Rondald watches the innkeeper turn over his keys to the stable, who sputters a bit into his beer, grabbing the keys as he looks back with wide eyes.

"Yes sir!"  He responds, glancing at the Captain, to Rondald, and then back to the innkeeper before the man starts to walk peacefully out the door.

OOC:  Consider your intimidation attempt failed.  For the moment, it appears that the captain is bringing the innkeeper back to the station, either for just general improper behavior or possibly on suspicion of theft.  If you wish to intervene please describe how.  Otherwise, we'll keep moving forward with the story - last I heard you wanted to look and repurchase a few items.

"You made your own bed, innkeeper, you can lie in it."

Ronald was a big man, and face far more daunting goes than this. He was not in the least purtubed by the innkeepers actions, and when the Captain glanced his way, he nodded approvingly.

"Until evidence is found, we can't press charges, but to accuse me of lying about the theft only implicates him further. I leave him in your hands, Captain. We have to purchase some new equipment..."

He waits until the man is gone before discussing with Terri what is needed and taking stock of what they have.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:03, Sat 27 June 2020.

Rondald merely nods his head at the innkeeper's fate.  It was fair really.  The man was being intentionally unhelpful, bristling at objective comments and being argumentative for no reason what so ever.  Rondald would have to think again on whether he would take the man to the courts... or whether he even wanted to stay in this forsaken city for that long.  It seemed overkill send the man to prison or slavery to make up for his losses.  Though surely he could be repaid with whatever cost selling the inn would fetch...

Rather than dwell on it, Rondald sits down with Terri discussing the list of things that will need to be purchased.  After twenty or thirty minutes of list making, assemble a set of items that should serve their purposes.  However, throughout the process, Terri seems to be distracted.

"Don't you think..."  Terri blurts out after Rondald marks down medical supplies on the list, "That maybe we're going down with this a little heavy handed?"  She looks up at Rondald appraisingly.

"What about this?"  She starts, pointing a finger at the list.  "Why don't you run out and go get the supplies and I'll stick around here and ask a few more of the staff members...  Mr. Dennick had said the staff members had been in and out.  I bet some of them know more than we have learned yet either.  Maybe we aren't asking the right questions.  Anyway, that way we could get some of our things replaced and maybe be a little closer to finding our things."

OOC:  Here's a list of things you've come up that may need to be replaced:
Crossbow and bolts
Bow and arrows
Carpentry kit
Fletching kit
Survival Basics
Bedding/Tent
Food
Medical supplies

Please be specific with what you want to do from here.

Ronald smiled at his wife. He was ever the strong one, but perhaps she was right.

"You could well be right. In more ways than one. If there is more to be gained from discussing things with the staff, it is probably best that you do it. But don't be unarmed...in case they are responsible. You are worth more than all of our possessions combined, and by a long way.

I will take the mule and what we have left and see what I can get."

He will gather everything and put it in the saddlebags...
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:03, Sun 28 June 2020.

Agreeing to let Terri scout on by herself, Rondald gathers together what remains of their things and puts them in the saddlebags, taking everything they own on his shopping trip into the city.  Though there is much to purchase, Rondald feels most secure going for the weapons first, so he stops by the armorer, who has a wide sample of ranged weaponry to pick from.

Rondald samples the wares, testing the weight on the string of the largest crossbow in the inventory, and finds it satisfactory for his purposes (though it is no substitute for his own, sighted weapon).  He then walks through the the larger bows, knowing that while his wife's form is lithe, the composite bow she had used up until recently had actually had quite a strong pull.  Rondald ends up deciding on one of the longbows that is relatively easy for him, though he knows is stronger than many could handle.

Rondald rounds off the purchase with a set of quivers, a shoulder and hip quiver for each of them, and as many bolts and arrows as he can safely carry.  He is just packing all of this equipment away on the mule (with the bow strung over his shoulder), when a glance down the roadway makes his heart drop down to the pit of his stomach.

"Ron!"

Terri is sprinting towards him, blood splattered across her right thigh like an angry red slash of inkblots.  Her hair is wild, and her eyes are bolted open.  Rondald opens his mouth to begin his questions, though before he manages, she crashes into him at full speed, her arms wrapping around him like like a squid as he stumbles backwards into their mule who grunts in annoyance.

"Ron!  It was the stableboy!  I talked to the maid and there was a key, but it was gone!  And she said she was the only one that used it to clean rooms after check out, but I was sure it wasn't her.  And he got suspicious, and tried to grab me, and I just managed to get away!  I don't know if he's still there, but it's definitely him!"

Terri's words are punctured by heaving breaths, only when she is finished does she loosen her grip, turning her head over her shoulder to look behind her, although there does not seem to be anyone following.

OOC:  It is now 1600.  You've managed to purchase these items:

Hip Quiver x2*         $30   2 lbs
Shoulder Quiver x2     $20   1 lb (one carried by each of us)

Bolts x40             $80   2.4 lbs (28 on mule, 1.68 lbs)
Arrows x50           $100   5 lbs (38 on mule, 3.8 lbs)

Bow, Long (ST 13) 1d6+2 imp $200, 3 lbs
Crossbow (ST 14) 2d6 imp  $150, 6 lbs

Rondald is shocked to see the blood, and then angry. He holds her tightly for a few seconds.

"We need to get back to find him then. I wonder how much the innkeeper knew of this."

He moves quickly once she has calmed a little, and heads back immediately, glad that he had taken everything left. The stableboy indeed, but he would probably do a runner. He hoped not, but time would tell. If he did, then a visit to the guard and the innkeeper may garner useful information. But for now, it was back to the inn...
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:15, Tue 14 July 2020.

Terri notes as Rondald stares at the wide swath of blood on her leg, shaking her head even before Rondald can mention anything of it.  "It's not mine.  I think I got him pretty good after he grabbed me.  Good enough anyway to get away."  She shakes her head again.  "I lost my knife though.  I'm just glad I made it out."  She hugs close to Rondald again and the knight returns the sentiment, though his mind is already on the next steps he needs to take.

Turning straight towards the inn Rondald leads their mule and all their things back towards the scene of the crime.  If they knew it was the stable hand, perhaps he could inform them of where the goods were, or at least allow some recourse for their stolen things.  They needed haste though.  All would be lost if the man was gone before they could get their hands on him.

Rondald arrives just outside the inn, his hand still holding the lead rope for the mule, his other hand holding the empty crossbow and Terri's new purchased longbow strung over his shoulder.  Rondald glances within the windows, noting the nearly empty room.  A man sits at the desk near the back, though it is not the long, sandy hair of the stable man.  Instead, the man has a close crop of curly black hair, though it is hard to make out details through the imperfect windows.

OOC:  Let me know any steps you want to take prior to heading into the inn.  Terri is actually uninjured, all the blood on her leg being the stable man's rather than her's.

"Darling, why don't you stay in the street with your bow, and try to get the attention of any guard who passes. If the stablehand comes, use your bow. Or my knife..." he takes off his silver coated knife and ties it to her, handing her the bow and arrows.

"...but only use the knife as a last resort. I will see if he is still here."

He cocks his crossbow, putting it on his back and readies his axe, before entering cautiously.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:27, Wed 15 July 2020.

Rondald hands over his long knife, its silver blade gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight.  Terri nods at the instructions, stepping back from the inn as Rondald heads inward.

"Be careful."  She says quietly, heading towards the other side of the road.

His axe held in one hand, and the long grip of the crossbow held in the other, Rondald pushes his way through the inn door into the room beyond.

The room is somewhat darker in the late afternoon sunlight, the small street facing windows casting their soft glow that barely seems to brighten the recesses of the room and the lanterns near the desk have yet to be lit.  The hearth too, is unlit.  Rondald however, is a man of excellent night vision, and the matter proves little more than an inconvenience as his eyes adjust to the meager light.

He scans the room slowly from the door.  The common tables for dining lay empty, all the chairs pushed in and organized without any evidence of recent use.  The servants door at the back of the room is closed, and the staircase going up to the rooms is quiet.

Rondald moves his attention to the man behind the desk, a lithe man with a mop of short, curly, black hair and a close cropped beard that seems to grow thick all over his face but for a thin line across his left cheek where it is barren.  The man leans over the desk, his palms resting on the wide, flat surface.

"What can I do for you?"  The man asks with a hint of a smile on his lips.

OOC:  Make a couple of rolls for me, one vs. Perception-5 and another vs. IQ+3.  The man behind the bar doesn't look particularly strong or intimidating.  Rather than the crossbow over your back, you have the stock of it in your left hand, so that you can quickly ready it if you drop (or put away) your axe.  Unfortunately, this crossbow doesn't have a strap like your old one.  The general room layout is below, if it helps.  You are standing in the doorway on the bottom of the map, where the man at the desk/bar is on the left side of the room near the middle of the desk, about 20 or so feet away from you.

Rondald looks around for a moment before replying, taking in the entire room, from floor to ceiling and behind the door, before moving towards the man behind the counter (assuming no-one else was seen).


"You were not here before. Where is the stablehand who was left in charge?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:41, Thu 16 July 2020.

Rondald looks around the room, wanting to be sure he is alone before making any moves that would put him in potential danger.  And indeed, he is glad that he has such precaution in mind, for as he glances at the door leading towards the back, Rondald notices a face behind it, peering out from the just open crack for a moment, before it pulls backwards into the darkness.

"He wasn't in much shape to stick around."  The curly haired man answers, pointing to the floor near Rondald's feet where a spattered blood stain sticks on the floor.  "Had a bit of a disagreement.  I told him I'd look at things for him."

The man smiles in a half measure, an odd smirk that reminds Rondald of his sailing days.

And then it hits Ronald like a weight.  Where he has seen that face.  In his pirate hunting days on Keyhole Bay.  He'd killed a pirate that looked just like that.

OOC nice work on the critical success.  You earn a hero point for the great roll.  You have only taken another step into the room, and the curly haired man has not moved from behind the desk.

Rondald moves so as to see who is behind the door, axe ready and taking great care not to turn his back on the guy behind the counter.

"I see. So what brings you here, that you would look at things for a thief?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:13, Tue 21 July 2020.

Rondald creeps forward into the room, craning his neck to see into the back door while he keeps his body turned towards the curly haired man at the desk.

"What brings me here?"  The man laughs slightly on the last word, his smile spreading across his face like a malaise.

"A rumor,"  He starts again, his eyes glancing up at Rondald.  "A whisper that the man who butchered my brother was off galavanting in Craine, called by the Duke of all people.  And when I get here, what do I learn?  That he's some sort of local hero, that he's been knighted..."  The man's face turns to a scowl.

"Rubbish."

"So I took what you owed me for the murder of my brother.  'Course, now that your wife's stabbed my man in the leg I think you owe me a bit more...  So here's the deal.  I want her necklace.  The one with the fat ruby on it.  Give it to me and you can walk out of here.  Refuse and we'll see how much we can take out of your flesh."

OOC:  You haven't seen any further activity from behind the door and you have positioned yourself so that both the door and the man at the desk are in front of you.  You have your axe ready in your right hand and your crossbow unreadied (but cocked) in your left hand.

"Terri, call the guard!"

Rondald closed the door (but not completely) to make it impossible for any to hide behind it, attacking anyone there (move and attack?)

"Your man? You have already robbed us, in that case! You are just thieves, like your brother. Lets see if you fight any better..."
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:55, Wed 22 July 2020.

Rather than be baited into losing what little they had left, Rondald immediately braces for combat, gripping his axe in his right hand as he charges towards the back door, knowing that there is someone there that was likely the surprise factor of this fight.

"Terri, call the guard!"  He shouts at the top of his lungs as he sprints forward, but his foes do not hesitate to respond.

"Get him!"  The man behind the bar shouts, grabbing something from behind the desk.

Rondald is already rushing past, and the door opens, revealing the stable man, a pained grimace on his face as he leans heavily against the wall with Rondald's crossbow in hand.  Rondald grits his teeth, flailing his axe around even as he is running at full speed!

Twang!

The bolt sails directly at Rondald, who flings his body just barely out of the path of the missile.  The effort foils any aim his attack, but at least the bolt has missed him, and the man's crossbow is now empty as he stands heavily just a few feet away.

OOC:  Combat map is posted below.  Your superior dodge skill and combat reflexes kept you from getting skewered by a crossbow bolt on round one of the combat.  Roll vs. Per-2.  You are at range 2 to the stable man, who is partially leaning against the wall.  You are facing NW.  Note that you have an axe in your right and and your crossbow in the left, so if you want to close the door to the kitchen, you are either going to drop something.  Post only one second worth of action and please note your preferred defense as well as your facing at the end of your post.  Good luck on the fight.

Rondald considered the greatest threat...the pirate with the crossbow was the immediate trouble, especially with the door closed to the . Rondald swings the axe at the pirates throat...
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:19, Fri 24 July 2020.

Wanting the crossbowman out of the fight as quickly as possible, Rondald steps forward, hurling his axe with all his might!  Though the swing is true, the stable man pushes himself roughly away from the blade, fear etched across his face.  He stumbles down to the ground with a wince and a thud, though the blade of Rondald's axe misses him by a hair!  The crossbow lands half off his lap, the strap still secured about his shoulder.

But just as Rondald is about to make the killing swing, he feels a painful tear about his left bicep!  An arc of blood spews from his arm as Rondald glances back to see the curly haired man, bloodied knife in hand and ready to make another attack!

OOC:  Map posted below.  Roll vs. Per-2.  While you succeeded your attack with the use of the hero point, your opponent succeeded with his defense, which kept you from hitting him.  You are 2 hexes from the stable man's torso, though his feet and legs are in the hex closer to you.  He is lying prone, with the crossbow unready and uncocked.  The curly haired man is in the hex behind you, holding a large knife.  You have sustained a moderate laceration to the left bicep.  You have maintained your hold on your crossbow, though you have a significant shock penalty on the next turn.  Give me one more round of action.

Rondald warily gauges the pirates next move, watching carefully, waiting for his attack before he pushes back past him, dodging his attack easily as they trade places. "Just you and me now it would seem, asshole. Taking me on one on one with me injured might be a bit much for you. It was too much for your stupid brother...which one was he, by the way? Was he the idiot that wore armour, then fell over the side? Died screaming silently in the depths...what an idiot! Spent the family fortune on armour and then it killed him!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:03, Sat 25 July 2020.

Recognizing his error instantly, Rondald whirls around barely beating the next knife thrust as it cuts towards his lower back!  With Herculean grace, Rondald heaves his body out of the path of the blade and skitters forward doing his best to ignore the pain, and taking advantage of his opponent's moment of imbalance to get around him and through the door beyond.  Rondald's hip snags against the man's leg as he passes, though he manages to get around and offers a jibe at the pirate's family.

Even as his hopeful words are out of his mouth however, he curses himself for his shortsightedness.  For as soon as he makes his way back in the main room, he nearly runs headlong into two more henchmen, who are sprinting towards him!  The men slow with the sight of Rondald, one heaving a heavy mace, (Probably mine, thought Rondald) and the other a thick club.  Rondald sidesteps towards the bar, trying to keep all three in his sights...

"Ha!" The curly haired man laughs as he turns, just a mere step away.  "We'll see how funny you feel when you have six inches of steel in your chest!"

OOC:  Amazing round of rolling for you.  The crit success on your dodge gives you a desperately needed hero point.  You also managed to succeed the contest of your evade, despite the penalty of -9(!) for your combined shock and the attempt to evade a standing opponent.  You ended up missing the roll by just 1, while your opponent missed by 2.  The extra two thugs seem ready for combat, and are labeled per their weapons (M for mace and C for club).  You are facing NE, Curly is facing you at a range of 1, and the other two are at range 2.  One round again this time.

Rondald curses at the new arrivals, swinging again at the pirate after evaluating his moves last round. But with multiple opponents, he is careful to stay behind the bar, making use of it to ensure they cannot get around behind him.

"Should have guessed. Your brother could not handle a fair fight either. Clearly I need to make sure I finish this job. You have any other brothers I need to deal with? Perhaps a wife you need me to to arrange a pimp for when you are gone?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:12, Sat 25 July 2020.

Continuing his turn, Rondald slashes his axe across his body and towards the curly haired pirate, a vicious downward stroke that aims true.  Rather than stepping away from the blow, the pirate steps closer, his blade flashing as he goes in for a killing blow.

But Ronald's axe is faster.

The blade cuts into the man's shoulder as he attempts to close the distance, tearing through muscle and snapping collarbone like a dry kindling.  Blood erupts in a torrent all over Rondald's chest and neck.  The curly haired man's face slackens instantly as the two bodies collide, and Rondald feels the knife point catch just above his hip before the man's wrist turns, causing the blade to swivel harmlessly to the side before it falls, clattering to the floor.  The pirate staggers back, his expression empty at he stares at the blood dripping down Rondald's jacket and beard before collapsing to the ground.

But the moment of victory is short lasted.

His shoulder turned to the other two, Rondald feels the whoosh of air rushing by his ear, a near miss by the man with the club.  But the man with the mace seems to be a little more skilled

Wham!

The thick steel ball crashes into Ronald's chest, and Rondald can distinctly hear the crackle of ribs as the breath is sucked from his lungs.  Rondald staggers backwards as the force of the blow spins his weight awkwardly onto his right foot.  He hauls his bloodied axe back in front of him, his eyes widening as he tries to appraise the two remaining foes.

OOC:  I spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to adjudicate this round fairly.  Curly has fallen unconscious with a life-threatening wound to the torso and is out of the fight.  You have also suffered a moderate wound to the torso, and are now at half move and dodge.  In order to avoid getting struck by a major wound to the vitals (requiring a HT-5 stun roll as well as a consciousness roll), I had to use your hero point.  At least you are still standing, though things aren't particularly looking good.  'B' in the picture is the crossbow guy (not sure why I didn't use X), who last you checked is still laying down and messing with the crossbow.  Good luck.  One more round.  Note that your back is against the wall and you cannot retreat.

This is a difficult situation. Rondald needs to move to his right to get behind to bar, to reduce his restrictions, so he focuses on defending himself, avoiding the blows to get into a better position, evaluating his attackers as he does so.

Rondald steps slightly to the side, his chest heaving with pain as blood trickles down his left forearm and on to his crossbow.  Above all, Rondald wanted to keep the two men in front of him, letting anyone get behind him would invite disaster...

"You don't stand much of a chance mate."  The man with the club takes Rondald's hesitation for fear, brandishing his club openly as the two men follow Rondald's measured retreat.  "Drop the axe mate, give us the jewel, and you can walk out of here."

OOC:  Not much change in the combat map so I didn't repost it.  You have moved one hex (about a half a grid square) to the south, and repositioned yourself so that you can retreat.  The club wielder is still range 1, the mace bearer is still range 2 (as he followed you around in your retreat).

The man was probably right, but he did not have the jewel to hand over so he let he axe do the talking. Raising his axe and waiting until he was attacked next, he slashed at the torso of his next attacker, before retreating back to dodge any attacks, fighting the pain all the way.

"Heh, you may be right. But I don't have it to hand over..." The words came painfully.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 08:15, Thu 30 July 2020.

Fighting back the pain, Rondald raises his axe, waiting for the next blow.  The two men seem to take the momentary silence as a refusal, and the man with the mace steps forward, swinging the weapon down in another brutal swing.

Rondald is very nearly sure the thing is going to hit him... he cannot seem to move like normal with his breath causing a crushing ache with each inhale.  The mace seems to catch a bit of his shoulder, though it does not seem to slow, becoming vaporous for a moment and not so much as slowing as it passes straight past his body.

Rondald retorts, both in words and with his weapon, heaving his axe towards the man, though he jumps back, flinging his body out of the way of the blade.

The man with the club takes advantage of the moment to swing alongside of Rondald, forcing him to turn his back to the wall to keep both of them in sight...

OOC:  The man with the Mace is on your north side, while the man with the club is on the south.  You are still half move and dodge.  The goons have moved to either side of you.  You can keep both of them in your front hexes, though doing that puts your back against the wall, which cuts off your retreat option.

[Ugh. How did he get over the bar behind me so fast? I am trying to ensure they cannot...backing away from them and using the terrain to stop them from flanking me, and suddenly he is over the bar? Why did I go to such lengths to get here if he can get behind me so easily? What am I missing here?]

Rondald fights stubbornly on, knowing that he really has no option, despite their words. He lashes out angrily, but his defences suffer...

Ronald heaves his axe again, biting on the inside of his cheek which swims in blood in an effort to control the pain.  The blade strikes true this time, smashing into the mace holder's sternum which erupts in a shower of frothy hot ick.

Halfway through his own swing, the man with the mace falters, staggering back as his blow just barely misses hitting Rondald in the shoulder.  The man falls to the ground, coughing violently as a trickle of red rises to his lips.  His mace falls to the side, though he staggers to an elbow in an effort to get back to his feet.

"Noooo!"

The shout comes from just over Rondald's right side, and he is just too late looking over.

Wham!

The club slams across the bottom of Rondald's jaw, cracking the bone and sending an explosion of stars across Rondald's vision.  Rondald staggers backwards, willing himself with his all to keep his senses, and to stay on his feet...

OOC:  You hit the mace wielder with a major wound to the torso, which knocked him off his feet and sent his weapon to the floor.  He seems to be still conscious, but he is badly injured, and may not be so for long.  You have also suffered a moderate wound to the head which has put you into -HP.  You need to roll 2 times vs. HT, label the first one Stun and the second one Conscious.  Fit gives you +1 to both rolls.  If you fail the stun roll, you lose your footing and both your weapons (crossbow too).  If you fail by 5 or more you fall unconscious.  If you fail the conscious roll, you also fall unconscious.  Even if you succeed both rolls, you are at -4 next turn due to shock.  The good news however is that you can now retreat away from the club man, assuming you make all of your other rolls.  Good luck.

Rondald staggers, the force of the club blurring his vision, but sheer determination keeps him up on his feet. Knowing where the blow came from, he lashes out while he can, swinging the axe in what he hopes to be an unexpected determined attack, blood now streaming over him as he staggers to keep going...
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:58, Tue 04 Aug 2020.

Out of the corner of his eye, Rondald notices the man with the mace fall limp from his attempts to get up off the floor.  He has little extra power to process that information though, as he still has his hands full with the last of the Brigands.

"Die!"  The man with the club shrieks, lashing out with his weapon in an overhand swing that smashes into Rondald's collarbone, cracking the bone and causing Rondald to stagger with pain, though somehow he keeps from falling.

Rondald retorts, lashing out with his axe, though the man just barely manages to dance back from the strike, leaving Rondald reeling from his many wounds.

OOC:  You've taken another Moderate wound to the torso and your injuries are catching up with you quickly.  Roll vs. HT again to maintain consciousness.  You will also have another -4 shock penalty next turn due to the blow.  The club man just barely managed to dodge your attack.  There has been no sign of Terri yet...

Rondald is struggling against the pain, but holds himself by sheer determination. The pain is mounting and each breath becoming a challenge, but he refuses to let them win. These are pirates...he cannot allow them to best him in the middle of a city! How is this even possible... but he knows the answer to that. Cities are the perfect place for criminals to hide. He longed for the simplicity of the open sea...

But reality dragged him back to the sea of blood from this open wounds...streaming through his clothes. In the back of his mind, he worries about the coward with the crossbow, but for now, he focusses his efforts on the club wielder in front of him, slashing out once again at his chest. If he could just take out this one, and stay up long enough to deal with the coward that stabbed his wife...
This message was last edited by the player at 09:33, Wed 05 Aug 2020.

Rondald is a sturdy man.

Despite his relatively thinner frame, he is tall and muscled, as strong as an carthorse, and as stubborn as one.  Rondald is capable of taking more punishment than most.  Indeed, blows that would cause others broken bones or permanent injury often gave Rondald nothing more than a bad bruise.

However, bruises build up, and Rondald it doesn't take much introspection to realize that he is suffering the worst combined injury he has ever sustained in his life.

Thwack!  The blow redoubles off of Rondald's axe arm, his body too slow to dodge nearly anything any more.

Rondald retorts, his axe cleaving the air just ahead of the man, his nimble leap backwards preventing the undoubtedly massive damage that Rondald was about to inflict.  The man's hair begins to stick to his forehead, the sweat gleaming as his own breath comes in deep gasps.

His chest heaving, his body aching everywhere, Rondald glares at his foe, willing him to go down.

OOC:  Another moderate injury this turn and you are close to dipping to -HP.  Roll again vs. HT for consciousness with fit bonuses.

Rondald's body is too damaged to get a reply out. Words were too expensive at this time anyway. He has been pounded more than any man should be, but he fought on. Sick of taking the damage, he watched for his opponents blow, dodging it with skill as he deftly avoided the blow and once again brought his axe into line with the enemy. He willed the bugger to take the hit...
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:08, Sat 08 Aug 2020.

Just when all seems lost, Rondald finds the reserves within himself to keep going.

Gritting his teeth together with fierce determination, Rondald flings himself out of the way of the club, this time avoiding the blow completely.  His foe seemed to have put a little too much into the blow as well, for he stumbles past Rondald, exposed for a moment to Rondald's axe.  Seizing the moment, Rondald sweeps his axe down, looking to slice the man clean through the ribs and chest!

At the last moment, panicked the man stumbles backwards, barely avoiding the blow as it catches the on his shirt, slicing open a fold in the cloth fabric, though causing no injury.  The man's forehead is now slicked with sweat, Rondald too is breathing heavy, though he feels the moment at least has gone to him.

Just one lucky hit.  He thought.  That was all he needed.

OOC:  A much needed good round for you!  The crit success gives you a much needed hero point as well as putting your attacker in an awkward position.  He did still manage to make his defense this turn though.  More rolls.  We'll do 2 combat turns this time, so make 2 rolls, labeled conscious 1 and conscious 2.  Also please make a roll vs. HT (+fit) for the drawn out nature of the fight, if you fail, you lose a fatigue point.  If you fail either of the conscious rolls, I recommend using your hero point there, but you are welcome to use it however you wish.

"I fight like you when I am nearly dead! You pray no-one else comes..."

It was a struggle just to speak, the wounds were terrible and the pain intense, but he stubbornly held on, as if his spirit, which could not be held down by his injuries, held him up.

Since the club wielder had passed him, he was no longer with his back to the door where the crossbow coward was. That was good, for in the back of his mind that worried him considerably. But right now, this mongrel HAD. TO. GO. DOWN. He gritted his teeth and swung at the cowards body, trying to time it so that the axe would hit him before he succumbed to his injuries...he knew it was only a matter of time.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:16, Sun 09 Aug 2020.

Rondald lashes his axe out, taking advantage of his opponent's momentary disorientation to switch sides behind the desk, putting his back to the front door so that he can see if the stable man with the crossbow tries to sneak out of the back room.

Somehow, amazingly, the man wriggles out of the way again.  Rondald smashes his axe forward again, trying to catch the man by surprise, though yet again the man stumbles out of the way of the blade.

Finally regaining his composure, the man flings his club in a back-armed swing, which Rondald just barely manages to evade as the club whisks just under his chin as he steps hastily back.

The man is sweating profusely now.  Though still uninjured, the short fight seems to have taken much out of him.  His back cranes with effort, leaning into the fight as if seeking to end it just as quickly as Rondald...

OOC:  Used your recent hero point on your first failed dodge roll.  As your second dodge roll passed, I didn't have to go on to the other re-rolls you had used.  You weren't actually facing the back door at the beginning of your post, but it was easy enough to slowly make your way around given your crit success on the dodge last turn.  Roll again vs. HT for consciousness, just one more second of action.

Careful to avoid the blow, this time Rondald waits until his opponent swings. He did not have to feign exhaustion, or injury, unfortunately. Instead of raising his axe, he waits with it low down, swinging it up as if in defence, but ducking back at the last second as he swings the axe up into the ribcage...

If he could just hold on...

Rondald attempts some trickery, keeping his axe low as if using it to parry, though instead he flings it in an upward arc, attempting to split the man open through his solar plexus.  Though the man is utterly gassed, winded to near exhaustion, he manages to just get out of the way, the blade just barely missing its quarry.

The odd attack leaves Rondald somewhat exposed... though he had not expected it.  His vision is momentarily obscured by his forearm and elbow.  He feels the club swing more than seeing it, he moves his body, though it is not fast enough.

Thwack!

The club smashes again into the thick of Rondald's tricep - The pain of his various injuries combining in a swelling ache all over his body.  He longs for this all to be over, to just score the winning hit.  But the feat keeps just evading his grasp.

"Just die!"  The man shouts, his head and hair now thick with sweat, his face reddened from exertion.

OOC:  Ugh.  Unfortunately your foe scored a crit success on his attack which prevented you from even attempting a defense.  So unfortunately your dodge roll did not count.  This most recent hit puts you below -HP.  Roll a couple of HT rolls for me, the first labeled Survival, the second labeled Conscious.  Note that your consciousness rolls are now at HT-1 (you still get normal fit bonuses).

"After you, asshole!" Rondald growled, but the pain was clear. He was not sure how long he could keep going. Staying up through sheer determination, he again swung his axe at the damn prick that just would not take a damn hit!

Just goddamn take a hit...   even thinking was a challenge now. He was running on instinct...
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:20, Wed 12 Aug 2020.

The man with the club lashes out at Rondald again, though Rondald dodges the attack easily, the blood thumping within his veins keeping him alert and mobile despite the pain.

Rondald lashes back with his axe though the damned pirate again leaps backwards, the blade missing by only a few cursed inches.  Unlike before however, the pirate does not immediately close the distance, but holds his club ready, his chest slightly forward in a defensive posture.  He lets the distance remain, giving Rondald the chance to take the initiative.

OOC:  Range has built to 2.  You are still about halfway up the desk.  Roll again vs. HT-1 for consciousness.  One more round.

Rondald takes the opportunity to step back, forcing the man to have to move even further, readying his attack for the inevitable assault he expected. The man was getting tired, and despite his own injuries, he sensed he had a chance, praying his enemy made a mistake, and looking to give him every opportunity to do so.

But it still seemed impossible without some backup. Then there was the coward that started it all...
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:24, Sun 16 Aug 2020.

Seeing the gap between the two of them widening, the man bearing the club grins and steps forward, his forehead and hair still slicked with the sweat that is drips from his cheeks.  After the momentary distance, the gap closes back to about two paces, just close enough for the club swing to be coming within a moment...

Through the lull in the fighting, Rondald can hear a meaty clunk, like a heavy footfall or a stumble coming from the kitchen, where the stable man had been...

OOC:  Though you had a momentary gap of 3 hexes, you are back to 2 with your opponent's step maneuver.  Another roll vs. HT-1 please for consciousness.  There isn't a chair on your side of the desk, though there are a few on the other side, though climbing over seems like it would be difficult at the moment.  Also note that you only have one more hex to retreat before putting your back against a few piles of debris against the wall.

Rondald takes advantage of the breather. Stepping forward wearily, he deftly dodges the expected blow before responding with his own axe to the body, hoping for once he will not anticipate it...that clunk in the kitchen worried him, but for now he kept the guy in front of him between the door and himself...

He kept wondering when Terri would arrive with the cavalry, but he realised it could be half an hour away. He would have to do this himself...he fought on stubbornly.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:45, Mon 17 Aug 2020.

Rondald forces himself to breathe, forces his body to suffer the pain and stay resolute.  He steps forward, noting the slightest slip of his foot in a growing puddle of hot, sticky blood.

The man's attack does come, a sort of hip-swing that redirects at the last moment, attempting to get the better of Rondald's defenses, though the aim is bad, and it misses the sailor without even the need to move himself much.

Rondald counters, swinging his axe, though like a rat, the man scurries backwards just in time, the axe catching only a loop of his belt which bursts open with force!

OOC:  You have moved north one half square on the previous map, with no other changes.  You haven't heard anything else from the kitchen, though it has only been a second.  One more round and another roll against HT-1.

Rondald steps forward, and the surging blackness that he was tryng to avoid comes as he collapses forward, striking out with his axe as he falls.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:19, Tue 18 Aug 2020.

Stepping forward, his intent to finally deal the fatal blow to the club man in front of him.  However, somewhere in the step, his strength fails him...  He feels his knee buckle beneath his body.  The arm that swings the club falters and he feels himself stumble forward, barely gripping on to the ragged edges of consciousness.

The club man does not recognize the moment, and he hurls his club hard towards the mass of Rondald's falling body.

In the last ragged glimpse of consciousness Rondald has, he vaguely comprehends the blurred form of another body making its way from the kitchen, a club smashing into his collarbone, and the wonderful feeling of succumbing to the pain... of letting everything go.

Then everything fades to blissful darkness.