Rowan considers this proposal for a moment. "A compromise maybe? If the mercenaries agree, one of you searches me, to prove my innocence. I'm afraid I don't trust them not to simply capture me swords or no the moment I submit myself to them. I wish to believe you would rescue me if they went back on their word, but I'm afraid I simply don't know you well enough to bet my life on that, so it seems like the best compromise.

Morg looks at the brigand leader, "How long is this sword? The human can then show he doesn't have anything that big on him or in his pack."

"If that's not enough for you, and you don't have a cleric you trust with you, then I suggest you go talk to Harburk in Red Larch - he's the constable."

Observing the exchange Durik stands behind Morg in a position of support and then crosses his arms; "Its as my fellow dwarf said, you should submit to the search.  Under the eyes of the All-Father we will make sure that it is a fair search."

Makari was a little confused. This wasn't going at all how he had thought it would. There were several parties that seemed to have nothing to do with the raiders here at all. He frowned a bit as he heard the things said and the questions asked across multiple people.

To the dwarf who had addressed him directly. "I do not have an allegiance, really. I heard there were raiders here, stealing and burning and such. I thought I would see about stopping them. I am new to this area so I thought engendering some good will, maybe meeting some like-minded individuals at some point, might be a good idea." He gave a small bow, his thickly-accented words pouring forth from his smiling mouth. "I am Makari Dyerna."

Rowan sighs. "I suppose a cleric swearing upon his god is sufficient. Very well, I will submit to a search if the mercenaries will swear not to take me should they find none of the stolen weapons. I hold you to your word to rescue me though, should they break such a promise.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:06, Thu 12 Dec 2019.

The mercenaries look at each other uneasily, wondering about a lack of response. Finally, they decide to approach, though they eye the entire group warily. About twenty feet away they stop, and the apparent leader speaks up again.

"Well, where is it Laren? Hand it over."

"I don't have your swords! How many more times do I need to tell you?" Rowan throws his hands up in exasperation. If you wish, I will submit to an inspection, on the condition that you let me go if you don't find them. These adventurers have agreed to enforce the terms if you agree.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:09, Mon 16 Dec 2019.

Stepping forward and then to the side in a position of authority; "Conduct your inspection-but it will be fair under the eyes of the All-Father.  If he has your swords then he will go with you.  If he does not have your swords on him...then you will go in peace."

The woman nods, and a few mercenaries step forward and search Rowan, pawing through his backpack, but it quickly becomes clear that the sword is not to be found. The men look questioningly back to the mercenary leader.

She gives Rowan a hard look. "Alright, what have you done with it?"

---

Feel free to make persuasion/intimidation/etc. rolls as you see fit or as it appropriate. Folks can take the Help action as well, cast spells, etc...

In reply to DM (msg # 31):

"As I've said from the beginning, I don't have the sword. I don't have any of the weapons from the armory. I'm a sorcerer, what would I do with a sword?"

Rowan Laren rolled 6 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 1. (For persuasion)

Makari watched without much interest as the search happened. One eyebrow rose up and he decided to play devil's advocate for just a moment of amusement. He asked Rowan, "You said you do not have the swords, and have been seemingly very careful with your word choices. Did you help in them being 'liberated' and/or know who did take them?"

He didn't even keep looking at Rowan to see the reaction or hear the answer. He went back to looking at the tower and the fiery dwarves that had been looking out.

"What a brilliant turn of events. I mean, it was pretty clear he didn't have a sword by the fact that he didn't have a sword. Where was he going to hide it? His trousers and walk with one stiff leg?" He thought for a second. "I suppose it could have been a really short sword." Jo pinched his thumb and index finger and squinted. He sighed. "This isn't going to go over well, is it?"

In reply to Makari (msg # 33):

Rowan coughs awkwardly. "I may have used an invisibility spell or two to help in their liberation. You must understand though, my family was starving. We had a verdant, bountiful farm, but the taxes were so heavy that it was impossible for us to survive. We had no choice. Given a choice between a slow death by starvation, and a quick death to a blade, I knew which one I preferred.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:49, Tue 17 Dec 2019.

Sitting back on her haunches at the edge of the forest the bear seems to be settling in for a longer stay than simply pausing in search of food to glance into the clearing.

"Your jurisdiction?" Jo raised an eyebrow, curious. "So you're not just a random bear able to communicate through magical means? And here I thought I had you all figured out."

"Who did you give them to after stealing them?" Morg asks Rowan.

Listening to the conversations; Durik strokes his greying beard deep in thought.  "Answer the questions with straight answers.  Did you take the swords?  If so what did you do with them after you took them?  I remind you that the All-father is watching and knows all."

The leader of the mercenaries tsks. "Did you sell the sword to those river brigands? Or did they steal it from you?"

"I distributed them to the other villagers. I didn't keep any for myself. I have magic, what use would I have for a sword when there were others wielding rusty pitchforks?" Rowan uses the minor illusion cantrip to conjure an illusory flame in the palm of his hand, seeking to illustrate his point about magic. After letting it burn for a second, Rowan closes his palm, simultaneously dispelling the illusion.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:06, Wed 18 Dec 2019.

The bear snorts a bit, at first quite a normal sound, but as it repeats for several seconds it begins to seem like laughter.

To the mercenary leader Morg says "The sword is not here, and you and the count employing you dinnae have any authority in Tyar-Besil", emphasizing and rolling his Rs. He puts the blade of his greatsword on his shoulder.

---

12:02, Today: Morg Danforge rolled 9 using 1d20+3 with rolls of 6.  Try to intimidate mercenary leader.

The mercenary looks down her nose at Morg, then returns her gaze to Rowan. "I don't believe you any farther than I can throw a boulder, but it's clear at least you don't have the sword. And maybe you don't know where it is. Maybe."

She pauses, looking at the other mercenaries. "In any case, I think it's likely the sword ended up in the hands of a group of river brigands. They operate to the east of here, along the River Dessarin. We, of course, have been charged with returning the sword to its rightful owner - the count of Rowan's village." She shoots Rowan a disgusted look, then continues on.

"Whether or not Rowan cares about the people in his village, it just so happens I have family there. And the count is making life there a living hell for the villagers until all his stolen weapons are returned." She pauses, waiting for any reaction from Rowan or the others. "I'm fixing to return the last weapon to the count, and set things right. Any chance I can get any help with that?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:43, Thu 19 Dec 2019.

In reply to DM (msg # 44):

Rowan nods. "I would be more than happy to help if it means reducing the counts ire. I'm rather tired of being chased across the continent. Simply direct me to where you think the sword is located, and I will take care of it." Rowan turns to the party of nearby adventurers. "What do you think friends, will you accompany me? There is bound to be ample wealth at any bandit camp able to purchase or steal such a weapon. I fully understand if you need time to prepare, and offer my services as a sorcerer in the meantime. I do not mind paying for your aid with my labor."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:21, Thu 19 Dec 2019.

As the situation is resolved, Magdrak crosses his arms with a self-satisfied smile.  "Glad that we could come to an accord.  I am generally not one to work for free, however.  Will we be sharing in the reward for the recovery of the merchandise?  I would assume that a noble pays well."

"Is this the pirate Shoalah?" Morg says. "From what I've heard they sound like someone who needs to be separated from their head."

Turning to Magdrak and Durik, he says [Language unknown: "T has ortrutthe lo thandepro eita res ckacbepo ekul Chponaurle, ac n ave ntierathi ich sabeou moitan has ounot i anou weenenro matape?"]

---

The pirate's name is actually "Shoalar", but Morg hasn't heard a dwarf pronounce the name yet. Family name "Quanderil".

[Language unknown: "Noce'mofoek wh il virresrat diriitur sser-ilunad."]