"Aye, good and quiet," replied the man, leaning on the rake he had been using to set things to rights.  "All yer horses been watered, resting quiet in their stalls."  He gave a frankly curious look to the man who had been Damon's guard.

"Thank you Myrick, we're going to take the horses for a little ride, and let this fellow," she said nodding to their captive.  "Leave town peacefully.  How much do we owe you?"

After settling up with Myrick she asked "Dak, do we have some rations to spare?"

Myrick's face showed a little internal conflict at Pathwyn's question, and nervously he finally said, "Well, for the four of them, and as long as it's been, an asil for all four?"

"We have enough food to get us back to town," Dak replied to the elf as he fished an asil out of his pouch for Myrick.

The plan had been to eat and restock here, but that didn't seem likely.  It was probably a good thing Pathwyn had scooped up that food at the church.  It had seemed a little greedy at the time, but maybe she'd been thinking of how little food they actually had left.

Alvador digs out an asil and hands it over. Let's go. With fresh horses, we should be able to get where there's food soon enough.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:48, Tue 30 Mar 2021.

"OK, give him my share of the rations.  He'll need something to eat on his trip out of here."

Pathwyn pulled out a couple of asil and put them into Damon's former guard's hand, still tied behind his back.

"It's not much, but it should come in handy," she told their soon-to-be-released prisoner.

"Myrick, is there a farm nearby that can sell us some food?" she asked as she started fitting Bourbon's saddle.

Dak pulled out a packet of a days rations and tucked it under the man's arm as he was still tied and gagged.  He then turned his attention to emptying the chest into whomever's saddlebags looked the most deflated.

"Most folk around here just keep sheep, or go fishing, and have a little family garden," said Myrick.  "There was a family live about halfway down to Monteci used to come up and trade, but they ain't been up here in awhile.  Man's name is Urard."

When everyone was ready to ride Pathwyn untied the gag and made a cut in the ropes binding their captive's hands.  She uncoiled and removed the rope.

"You're free to go.  Good luck," she told him, hoping he'd make good on this second chance.

Then she climbed on to her horse and directed Bourbon down the road to Monteci.

---

How much sunlight do we have left?  How long is the ride to Urard's farm?

Alvador adds this advice Maybe you'd find other parts healthier...and, remember, we are merciful...once.

He follows Pathwyn.

"I'll remember," said the now-ungagged man.

With that, the four who had come to Farnworth made their way back along the coastal road, leaving Farnworth behind, whether for a short time or for good yet to be determined, and the man who had been their prisoner soon disappeared in the distance behind them.

---

On horseback, you would need about an hour to get to the farm; there's probably about two hours before sunset.  It would be entirely normal to request to stay the night in exchange for relating news or a small amount of coin (like a griel each).

I'll leave a little room for on-the-road conversation before bringing you to the farm, and will bring you to the farm tomorrow (real time).

"So are we going to go back to Farnworth?" Dak asked as they rode along.  He wasn't sure if they'd upended the balance in the town for good or bad.  They were at loose ends at the moment now that their employer was dead.

As expected, Pathwyn chimed in with her opinion.

"We have to ask ourselves two questions.  Can we defeat Penrhyn, Cannibal, and his thugs?  And are we heroes or just mercenaries?"

She let the questions percolate in her comrades' minds for a short while before going on.

"I can't answer the first question yet.  We don't really know what all we're up against.  But we already beat Bror, Vardis, Kieran, and Damon.  I'm willing to take the leap of faith that we're up to the rest of the challenge.  As for the second question, I wouldn't sleep well knowing I left the townspeople of Farnworth to the bullying and cruelty of Cannibal's gang.  Those people shouldn't live in fear every time they go to the market, or the tavern, or to church.  You've seen them.  They're terrified!"

Bourbon shook and bucked a little, reminding Pathwyn that she was preaching from the back of a live animal, not a soapbox.  She patted the horse's neck comfortingly before wrapping up.

"And even though I never knew Eliphas, I don't like the idea of his murderer running around free either, especially now that we know who did it."

Alvador contributes his thoughts. What we, as a group, I don't know yet. But we seem comfortable together. The village knows no law, well, no decent law; so our being vigilantes isn't a problem. And I do feel more confidence in myself...and, well, what better things do we have to do?

One thing, though, what will happen after? We should, if we undertake this, prepare the ground for them to govern and defend themselves. That suggest getting allies willing to fight or help out somehow so their freedom is earned and not a gift. Maybe contact nearby farmers initially.

"I would like to avenge Eliphas' death," Dak admitted.  The man had been a good friend to him and trusted him.  He shifted the metal javelin held across his lap as he rode.

"I wonder if a net would work on those dogs," he mused, thinking of fishing for dogs.

Fresh meat might Alvdor suggests.

"Could you put the dogs to sleep?" Dak asked of the half elf.  That magic always seemed to turn the tables and if they could get the dogs out of the picture, it would give them a good leg up.

Alvador considers tehk question seriously. Tomorrow or later, yes...at least some of them at a time. If possible, I'd rather the dogs were distracted.

It felt very appropriate to use nets in a fishing village.

"Nets won't be hard to come by in Farnworth.  We could either weight the corners and throw them over victims, or we could rig up a trap on the ground in front of us for when the enemy charges our ranged weapons users.  Maybe even build a defensive net wall in front of us.  Speaking of which, where's your sling, Alvador?  I haven't seen you even pull it out once."

While talking tactics, Pathwyn kept an eye out for a stream or river at which to re-fill her waterskin.

Alavdor is taken by surprise. My sling? ... It's here. Should I have tried ot use it sometime?

She had suggested its use in the church battle with the big bodyguard, but the young mage really seemed distracted back there for some reason.  Maybe that happened to all wizards when they ran out of spells.  No, that couldn't be it.  He still had a flaming hands spell.  Never-the-less, he was a lot sharper since they left the church.  It was good to have the old Alvador back.

"Certainly.  Firing away with the sling is a good way for you to be effective in combat without using magic, and it keeps you a safe distance away from danger.  With arrows, bolts, and bullets we might be able to take out opponents before they get a chance to close.  Soften them up, at least."

Maybe they could take some target practice tomorrow morning to build his skill and confidence.  She was curious to see how good he was with the sling.  Pathwyn smiled at Alvador.

"Have you had any luck figuring out what's magical about that staff?"

As the companions made their way along the road, they saw a house which looked like it had had rooms added in a near random manner, set back on a short path from the road.  In front of the house, there was a low wooden fence which seemed to be a marker that the chickens had been given, a low wooden coop to the side of the house.  Beyond, fields with young barley, flax, and a third empty field could be seen, along with a fenced meadow where a horse and cow could be seen, as well as another small building that looked large enough to be a barn for the animals and a wagon, but not much more than that.

No, I haven't tried. I don't know how to Identify, and I doubt I'd have much luck anyway. If we had the money to pay a higher-level mage....

Earlier, I just didn't think of it, later, I might have hit one of you.

Alvador stops to look the place over. That place might b e as good a place to stop as any. Looks roomy, but there's no sign or something to indicate that it's like an inn.

"Want me to go up and ask about a meal and a night in their barn?" Dak asked as he pulled his horse up near the fence to stop.  His rear end was still sore from their ride in that morning.

Now that he thought about it, they'd missed lunch as well.

Pathwyn smiled and nodded to Dak.  "Yes.  Mention that we have coin to pay for the food too."


Then she looked over at Hewney.  He'd been awfully quiet so far.  She wanted to make sure his condition hadn't deteriorated.

"Are you OK, Boss?"


Lastly, she continued the staff conversation with Alvador.

"Oh gods, that spell costs a fortune.  The mage casting it will not only charge you a sack of gold for the privilege, but also demand a valuable gem that turns to powder in the process.  Even then the spell doesn't work sometimes.  Do you get a refund?  I doubt it.  That's why most mages will use a lucky charm.  A little luck never hurts, does it?"

Pathwyn is downright fascinated by magic and could go on about it all day.

"At least it's a common spell.  Not surprising since it's a fool-proof get-rich-quick scheme assuming you've got a decent supply of wealthy customers overly burdened with mysterious magical items.  Thieves guilds make good customers too.  They never know what exactly they've stolen or taken off a conveniently dead guy, and they have the means to pay for the knowledge."

"With Gwysol being an enchanter," she goes on.  "The basic magical identification spell is near certain to be in one of those books.  But we don't always *have* to resort to spells to figure things out.  You can use your smarts and intuition.  For example, did you feel anything unusual when you struck Penrhyn?  It looked like a light tap to me.  He was royally kicking our asses, but he ran off like you'd half killed him.  Also, give the staff a good close looking over for subtle carvings or partially worn off runes.  Writing of a sort is often vital to enchantment.  There was bound to be something there at sometime, even if that sometime was years ago."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:09, Sat 03 Apr 2021.