The day of the gifting is spent preparing to depart for Kinloch Hold. A month’s supplies are obtained (16 days each way), the covered prisoner tumbrel* is inspected, and enough horses are provided to draw the cart (1), carry provisions (another 2), and carry riders (for those that want to ride).

The next morning, Ser Ragnall leads the party northeasterly under the Imperial Highway, stopping at Dainen’s farm as the sun is starting to disappear beyond the horizon. The old farmer is overjoyed to hear that the horrible affair with the apostate has been settled. He provides you with a good meal and you all spend your last night in a comfortable bed for the next couple of weeks.

The second day finds the group taking the wagon ramp onto the ancient Imperial Highway. Ser Ragnall says they should be able to stay on the elevated stone and marble road for several days, as there are periodic spots for resting near built-in firepits and covered nooks in case the weather turns poorly. Storm clouds roll through across their path by midday, but, thankfully, the rains stay north of the party.

The group reaches a nook with a firepit in the late afternoon, and Ser Ragnall says this is as good a place as any to stop for the night.

OOC: First, who is riding, who is walking, and who is driving/riding the tumbrel (which can carry the driver and one passenger “comfortably”)? At least one person needs to be on the tumbrel, and it can be Ser Ragnall, if you wish. The pace of travel is limited by the tumbrel, so those on foot can easily keep up.

Also, what is your watch schedule? There are enough of you that Ser Ragnall, Erin, Fost, and Wendoll can each take 2 hours, which would allow all of you to get enough sleep to be rested in the morning.

Oh, and just in case I forgot to mention it before, everyone is back at full health after the night’s rest at the farmstead.

* A tumbrel is a two-wheeled cart with high sides that was used to transport supplies or agricultural products (often manure), but also became known for being used to transport prisoners to the guillotine. The one you’re using was purpose-built to ferry prisoners from Lothering to South Reach to face high justice from the arl; as such, it’s covered and padlocked.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:03, Fri 03 Nov 2023.

Having stepped onto the road he already missed the warm and comfortable bed. Shaking the morning chill off his bones he walks next to the wagon. "You know, I've never learned how to ride. I know its weird since I sort of grew up on a large farm." The rest of the journey he either remains silent or asks questions about Ferelden. Though his prattle is interrupted by the old imperial highway. "Now this is something to look at. The old imperial highway. If I remember my history correctly then it was built in the year 480 in the old Tevinter calendar. It's truly a sign of a glorious empire when even those that follow still use their grand designs."

I'll be walking, perhaps switching sometimes with Ser Ragnall if he's riding on the wagon.

Despite his reputation, or nickname, as 'Longstrider', Fost was actually an accomplished rider and the added mobility from a horse was something he cherished and would not want to miss on the journey ahead.
While he had no particular experience fighting on horse-back and would need to dismount if matters got serious the idea of riding on the cart did not appeal at all unless no other could drive it. Having been raised in a tiny hamlet driving a wagon was one of the skills he had picked up early in his life.
He commented the awkwardness of using longbow or halberd while riding but did not have first hand experience.
"If no one else can drive, I will. Otherwise I'd prefer to ride."

Erin wasn't too picky regarding how to travel, the sense of duty in their mission and the excitement of another trip away from home in such short notice fueled her with the epinephrine of life. Not that she needed it, Erin was a veritable well of endless stamina condensed in a rather small package. "A road is a road, I wonder how it, how to say it... Still exists? After all this time, I am glad it does however, much better than treading on muddy trails."

When it came to stand watch however, she did have her preferences, choosing to go first if at all possible. "Sleeping sits best in one go, rather than little morsels."

When the templar offered to drive the cart even Fost was able to notice that Ser Ragnall would have preferred to ride himself.
Fost winked and grinned as he sat into the saddle.
"We can take shifts ridibg and driving if you want."
"The one who rides takes the middle night shift, though."
"Deal?"
As.long as he could remember he had been a mercenary, and thus was well used to nightly watches. The middle watch was worse for interrupted sleep but morning was the worst in his opinion as it meant a long day and restlessness kicked in as the sun set slowly.
So offering this deal was really at no cost to him.

Just listening to Fost talking about keeping watch makes Tyrus shudder. He never liked standing watch and never had to do so before traveling to Ferelden. Walking next to the wagon he finds himself watching the beautiful Mabari hound. Truly one of the best creations of the old Tevinter Imperium.

Ser Ragnall nods graciously to Fost. “Deal,” he replies.



"I also see it as a testament to the concept of magic serving man," Ser Ragnall adds. "A highway for travelers to minimize the natural dangers; how much faster did the light of Andraste spread on these marbled roads?"

The group settles down for the evening at the highway nook. They find a dozen pieces of batoned kindling left behind in the fire pit, which will save (at least a little bit) on their supply of kindling.

OOC: Erin has evening watch, and Fost/Ser Ragnall will alternate the two mid-watches. And Wendoll & Arnie will take the morning watch. The squishy mage gets to sleep uninterrupted.

Tyrus nods "Indeed, magic used well can do wonders." He looks at the captured mage "If it's used well." He chooses not to comment on Ser Ragnall's last response. Stopping for the night Tyrus stretches himself. "Well, this seems like a good place to rest. Is this going to be enough for a nice campfire?"

Tyrus stretches himself and takes a couple of steps. "Well, I guess I can go and look for some more wood nearby. Perhaps the honorable Ser Ragnall would be so kind and accompany me with a pot? We might find a stream or something nearby and we could make some stew."

"To start a fire, yes, but not to sustain it; we have some bundles of wood on one of the pack horses, but not enough to get us all the way to Kinloch," Ser Ragnall says as he climbs down from the cart. He pauses to check Fenwithe's condition, then adds, "As I'm sure you know, Tyrus, the magicks of your forebearers provided for the comfort of travelers forced to take shelter on the road."

As each member of the party enters the nook, they find that the temperature is comfortably mild - significantly cooler than the warm day that was the 26th of Bloomingtide. (The refreshing coolness at the start of their last adventure was fleeting and summer was back in full force by the time they left Lothering two mornings ago.) Tyrus does recall that some highway nooks are reflective of the season; they can't prevent the entry of snow or rain into the nook (which is why they're partially enclosed, so to speak), but the stones themselves warm or cool the area as needed to ensure the comfort of the traveler overnight. One could argue that it's a frivolous use of magic, but the result is a great blessing to any who must rest on the raised highway.

The templar opens the tumbrel gate and escorts Fenwithe into the nook. The apostate comments, "You haven't used your powers on me once this trip."

"I haven't needed to," Ser Ragnall quips, grasping the manacles that held the mage firmly. "'The Chains of Mahgran Mondravo', they're called, named for the dwarf who designed them. They're manacles designed to sever a mage's connection to the Fade while worn; drains your power, and prevents it from building back up."



“If you're wanting to save our wood stock, I’m happy to help, though I admit I'm not an accomplished 'gatherer,'” the templar says. “The lake is about a quarter mile or so off, so we can get water there if no stream is nearby.”

He pauses and looks Fenwithe up and down. “I could take you along with us to stretch your legs, but I’d rather not have to look after you while I’m helping the responsible mage prepare dinner,” he quips. Turning to the trio of warriors, he asks, “Could you keep an eye on him while I escort Tyrus about?”

Wendoll speaks up, "I am a scout by trade. I may be better suited to helping gather."

Ser Ragnall nods appreciatively. "Thank you."

OOC: Tyrus, please attempt a TN11 Cunning (Natural Lore) test, reduced to TN9 by Wendoll's assistance.

Hopefully, Tyrus wasn't trying to get Ser Ragnall away from the others to talk or something...if Tyrus insists on having Ser Rangall along, he'll relent and attend the mage, but the TN will revert to 11. Let me know in character (or, at least, in the OOC chat) before you roll.

Fost had listened attentively to the exchange and relaxed slightly when hearing about the magical manacles. He briefly wondered whether these used their victim's mana to empower themselves but quickly lost interest in something he truly had no idea about and would not be anle to grasp even if explained to him in detail. Suffice to know the effect. Then again, how would it be noticed if they no longer worked?
"How can you tell the manacles work? More important: what if they no longer do so? Would you notice?", he blurted, then realized thst it would probably be unwise to tell with Fenwithe to hear.
"Some day I hipe you'll tell me.", he thus added.

Tyrus listened closely to Ser Ragnall's explanation of the shackles, Mahgran Mondravo, a name to remember...
He nods and turns to Wendoll, "Yes, it might be better for you to come with me and bring Arnie, perhaps we can find something a bit fresher than hard tack and jerky." He nods towards their prisoner "It's probably better for you to stay with him." He says to Ser Ragnall before walking away with Wendoll.


I'll take Wendoll, I forgot that he was supposed to be my local guide and would probably know a little about scouting/nature.

Tyrus Morven rolled 12 using 3d6+3 with the AGE System with rolls of {6}, 2, 1.  natural lore.

Not being a seasoned traveler like the others and seeing how everyone got busy, Erin hesitantly looked around, before sitting down by the nook's entrance and announcing it as if it was her task. "I'll be standing by until it's time, all right?" She was virtually sparkling on her spot in the conviction that she was contributing while also staying out of the way of those who knew.

"It's no secret how it works, so I'm happy to share. The story of how we came to possess the manacles was recorded by one of the sisters of the Lothering Chantry in the middle of the last age," Ragnall explains in response to Fost's query. "It included excepts from Master Mahgran's journal concerning the manacles and details several lyrium-infused runes etched into the irons themselves. The runes, instead of being imbued with the power of the Fade for a set boon, draw that power from the nearest source - in this case, the mage enclosed in them. The dwarf also wrote that the manacles 'saturate' the mage with false-power, which doesn't allow him to fill his empty reserves - like an empty bucket with a hole in the bottom that appears to be full of water, it was told to me once. I can't say I understand it fully, but I can tell you it works very well."

Tyrus and his erstwhile guide retrace their steps to the nearest stairway to ground level, where they're able to gather a sufficient number fallen branches while Arnie scouts around with his snout. They also find a small stream, but it's not large enough to easily draw water from, so the trio make their way to the lakeshore, disturbing along the way a couple small murders of crows who were pausing for a drink. The crow caw at them in annoyance, but reform after the men pass...only to be annoyed by them again on the return trip. They return to the nook just as the sun touches the horizon.

With a knowing smile, Wendoll thanks Erin for "keeping watch" over the others as they worked. "We always need a pair of eyes looking outward."

Ser Ragnall helps Tyrus build the fire, making small talk in a low voice.

Tyrus had spend his time looking around the Ferelden countryside, stretching himself before returning to their campsite. Building a fire he notices Ser Ragnall approaching and helping him.

Ser Ragnall and Tyrus talk quietly together as they prepare the fire.

Tyrus drops some branches and takes another second to put them back.

Fost was a mercenary to the heart. And that meant: drink, eat and sleep whenever an opportunity presents itself. Because one never knew what could happen.
Since Erin had already offered to take first watch and he had the other covered with the templar Fost snug in his bedroll, weapons nearby, and soon slept.

There's a brief pause in the conversation, and Ser Ragnall looks back at the others.


The pair finish their work and light the fire, and hang a pot of stew for supper. The travelers eat well and then find their beds as Erin takes up her watch. Arnie lays down next to her, snoozing unless she stirs. Her watch passes by peacefully and she and Arnie wake Fost for his. The mabari is content to remain with the watchstander - partly because they're awake to give him scritches from time-to-time.

Fost warily watched being watched in turn. He picked up a pepple and threw it in the general direction of the birds wondering if they would react as normal birds would. And that would to fly away.
Strange this, he had never really seen ravens lured to a fire. Did not even know if these were night-active birds.

---

rolled 8 using 3d6+1 (5 stunt points) with the AGE System with rolls of {5}, 1, 1.  CUN, Nature/Ornitology.
Unless those SPs have any special effect, Fost is just as unlearned as he always is, lol

The ravens scatter, flying off in different directions away from the warning shot. As he considers his knowledge of the beasts, which is limited to the fact that he remembers only seeing them active in the day and that a group of them was called a "conspiracy," the re-alight on the far wall...and are joined by another five.

A conspiracy, indeed.

Arnie, for his part, is now standing, his head tilted to one side out of curiosity as he regards this strange invasion.

Feeling a bit foolish and anticipating to be mocked bybhis companion, Fost reached over to Wendoll and gently nudged him to wake him.

Once Wendoll was awake, Fost indicated the birds to him.
"Laugh if you will, but this strikes me as odd. So odd in fact that I'm starting to be concerned."

Not yet willing to raise the alarm Fost did reach over to his new blade.

It takes a bit for Wendoll to stir and focus on the scene, even as another half dozen ravens join the others in their vigil. And, it does seem to resemble some sort of midnight vigil, like the solemn observance of the night before Andraste's martyrdom.

As he sits up, the elf's assessment is a simple, "Huh." Wendoll's gaze shifts from the birds to the warrior and back, adding, "They haven't been aggressive at all?"

For his part, Fost does notice that each bird is acting independently. There's no pattern or synchronicity to their movements - the nook just has an audience...of nearly a score ravens at this point.

"That many? You call that natural?", Fost insisted. "At night?"

"Oh, no, not at all," Wendoll replies. "But, it's so weird it's captivating."

He pauses a moment in thought, then wonders as a few more join the conspiracy, "If they're just content to sit there and watch us, do we just...leave them be? Or do we try to shoo them away? Should we wake the mage?"

"Tried to make them fly away already.", a thoughtful pause, "Yes, better wake Tyrus.", he agreed, keeping his glance warily skimming left and right, trying to keep all winged guests in sight at once.

"I...think I'll wake the others, too, just in case...," Wendoll says.

Tyrus is comfortably dreaming about gathering firewood amongst babbling brooks during harvestide back home, a certain serenity blanketing him as he runs his hands along the fountaingrasses; suddenly a disturbingly warm gust disturbs his leisure, and an animal starts whining close by. It's strange, because he doesn't recall any spirits portraying animals in this part of the Fade. Sighing at the ruined ambiance, Tyrus pulls himself out of his dream and opens his eyes to find a mabari's broad snout dominating his vision. Arnie whines again and turns his head away, looking at something on the far side of the highway structure.

Meanwhile, Erin is gently awakened by a rocking of her shoulder, Wendoll stating, "Not an emergency, but something strange is going on."

As the pair stir and gather their bearings, Wendoll goes to wake the templar, who complains in his sleep about having to get up early for training before finally waking up.

Fost, keeping his watch, notices that more ravens have alighted, and some are now on the same wall as their nook, although none are closer than 6-7 yards from the camp. Erin and Tyrus immediately sight some three dozen ravens - most are lined up on the far highway wall, but some have taken up position on the adjacent wall.

Everyone hears Wendoll ask, "What are you doing up?"

And Fenwithe's response, "Hard to sleep in these things. Can't dream like I normally do. Interesting sight, isn't it?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:16, Fri 08 Dec 2023.

Tyrus, rather unhappy about being woken, groggily makes his way to wherever the hound was pointing. Still hearing the babbling of the brook in his mind he stops, noticing the scores of ravens.. or crows? He mixes them up all the time.
"Birds? You're waking me because of birds?" He looks a little longer "I give you they're pretty but..." his sentence trails off when he starts to get a feeling that something seems off.

BRAIN POWER ACTIVATE!
Nature lore: 16
Arcane lore: 10

13:23, Today: Tyrus Morven rolled 10 using 3d6+3 (1 stunt point) with the AGE System with rolls of {1}, 3, 3.  Cunning (arcane lore).

13:22, Today: Tyrus Morven rolled 16 using 3d6+3 with the AGE System with rolls of {6}, 4, 3.  Cunning (natural lore).

Rubbing her face, Erin looks at the birds while letting out a big yawn and suggests. "Is this the road all over again? Better birds than a bear, though."

Tyrus is quite certain this isn't a natural occurrence. Well, ravens do roost in their conspiracies at night and they do keep watch on strangers (i.e., non-ravens, especially predators), but, they don't fly to some remote location in the moonlight and observe a random group of travelers. No, there has to be some arcane or Fade element to this.

He's heard of mages using a combination of potions, runes, and training to tame and use birds for various messenger and surveillance tasks, but he's never done the research on how to create such a flock. He remembered a elf laetan who served a powerful magister that kept an extensive dovecote; he also knew just about everything about everyone in the city. These ravens remind him of that fellow.

From Erin's perspective, it feels like a Chantry service back home...with the party playing the role of the reverend mother's sermon.

Tyrus takes a step closer to the birds, without taking his eyes off he asks: "What have they've been doing? How long have you observed them?" He slowly goes down on one knee, reaching for a pebble lying around.

Fost answered Tyrus, explaining how they had amassed, how he tried to chase them away when they were still just a handful. And how this had quickly turned to these numbers.
"I know crows amass in huge numbers, never heard of ravens doing the same."

---

Failed my Nature roll, remeber ;)

OOC: Well, ravens are generally bigger than crows...it's natural to think they operate differently. ;)

"Ravens gather in the same way," Wendoll notes. "This, though, is nothing I've ever seen in either."

Ser Ragnall, who looks like he's still a bit groggy as he runs his fingers through his hair, notes, "If it's some sort of magical influence, I don't know what we can do without trying to attack them."

OOC: Okay, so what do you folks want to do? You could,

a. just leave them alone; they aren't making a lot of noise, so it's not like they'll disrupt sleep;
b. try to shoo them away;
c. attack them. For this, though, they're each individual combatants. This means a lot of foes to face (although individually weak), assuming they even engage y'all and just don't fly out of range.

Tyrus, looking at the birds for a little longer, doesn't see anything that could be considered as threatening or dangerous. His eyes wander to their captured mage and tries to gauge his reaction.

I think Tyrus is going to simply leave them be. We might want to keep an eye on them though

"Those guys are just a little curious, or don't like it outside either." Erin said with a yawn before getting back to sleep. "Just wake us if you see them try something funny." If they were anything like the previous animals the encountered, those birds would be concerning to Erin, but as it was, they were no different from some wild animal seeking shelter in her eyes.

Fost shrugged.
"Well, if everyone is of the opinion that these pose no threat thrn sorry or waking you up."
The burly warrior sat down again near the fire which had burned fairly low by now. He kept his weapons nearby and warily watched the birds.

"No apologies needed, my friend; I'd rather have this than a demon-possessed bear," Wendoll quips, patting Fost on the shoulder as he returns to his bedroll.

"That was rather specific," Ser Ragnall notes as he begins to lay down. "You actually encountered one?"

"On our way to the farmstead. A bunch of nugs were possessed, too - thankfully, only a few of those attacked us..."

---

The ravens maintain their surveillance for the rest of Fost's watch; Ser Ragnall inquires about them when awakened for his turn, and comments on how surreal the night has been.

When the heroes rise with the sun in the morning, the ravens are all gone. The templar reports they "all flew off at once" somewhere in the middle of his watch, like an army picking up its spears and marching on in unison.

OOC: 100 exp for encountering the mystery. Everyone should now be at 7,550 experience points.

I'm working on a post to move on from the nook, but feel free to interact a bit, if you want.

The next several days are smooth traveling as the party continues westward. Once (on the 30th of Bloomingtide) they had to descend to bypass a fallen section of the highway, but the path on the ground was clear and they were soon back on the elevated road.

The highway turns north on the 2nd of Justinian, and Ser Ragnall notes they have about a week to go before they reach Lake Calenhad Docks, from where they’ll sail the lake to the Circle Tower (which itself takes the better part of a day).

Arnie begins to whine a bit, his head tilted skyward often. Now, given the strange experience a few nights before, the party has been a little more wary of proximate feathered creatures than before; however, there have been no more strange encounters since the first. An occasional bird, raven or otherwise, flies somewhat near, but nothing seems out of norm for daytime travel.

That said, the dog’s concern prompts Wendoll to mention he’s noticed a solitary raven make a sweeping arc at altitude once during the mid-to-late morning hours on the 29th, 30th, and yesterday (the 1st). He says he didn’t think anything of it at first, but he points out one high above them doing the same thing.

“It’s almost always the same. Coming from the northeast or so, swooping over head, and returning largely in the same direction,” the elf says. “It’s subtle, but think our progress is being monitored. And that visit the other night was part of it.”
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:48, Fri 16 Feb.

Tyrus had been preoccupied with other things and rarely thought about their feathered friends. But hearing Arnie bark and Wendoll's observation he looks at the bird. "The same direction? Which direction is that? Do you know of any settlement there?"

Fost grunted.
He had said that the ravens were unsettling but clearly everyone had not seen them as a threat. Which had proven true, of course, but still...
"Who, or what for that matter, could possibly know that we have him", he nodded to the apostate, "and have an interest in him, or us. The quicker we deliver the man the happier I will be."

"Mostly northeast when I saw them, both coming and going," Wendoll replies. "I know that Teyrn Cousland had a roost-full of pigeons he used to send important messages quickly to Denerim. We'd sometimes get a response back the same day, maybe the next morning at the latest. By comparison, traveling by ship around the coast takes more than two days.

"The falcon master in Highever once told me they had 'at least a few pigeons' each from South Reach, Gwaren, and Redcliffe, and even correspondence to Gwaren could be returned the next evening. I've heard tale of ravens being magically trained for similar purposes, so, if they're circling over us mid-morning, they could easily be coming from anywhere in Bannorns."



"Are your apostate friends looking for you, Fenwithe?" Ser Ragnall quips, rapping the cage with the back of his gauntlet. "Who wants to save you from a mage's punishment, eh?"

Looking up at the retreating bird, Fenwithe answers, "I don't have any friends. Not anymore at least." He smiles at the templar facetiously.

Tyrus nods at Wendoll's explanations. "And these.. Bannorns... that's an area with all kinds of people? Also those that would help him?" He listens to Fenwithe "No friends? Where did you use to live? Where are you from?"

"Maybe we have something the bird wants, shinnies or some such. Those critters can be awfully smart when they want." Erin suggested, looking skywards. "If there is magic involved like before, wouldn't more bears make sense?"

Everyone stops in their tracks, the horse included, and they look at Tyrus, the horse included, like he had grown a second head or something. Then, a beat later, they all at once realize that he is, indeed, a foreigner and continue on.



"He's lying. Pay no heed to his words," Ser Ragnall grumbles.

Fenwithe feigns offense, a mocking smile plastered on his face the whole time. "Oh, I'm positively hurt."

Ignoring the apostate, Ser Ragnall continues. "The Bannorns are the freeholds of the middle of the country, north of Lothering and east of here. Freeholders are commoners who own land, and they swear allegiance to one of the thirteen banns, renewing or changing allegiance with each succession. I suspect our charge here has family or friends somewhere within."

"Yes, I am from the freehold of Yornick, in the north east," the apostate admits. "But, I can assure you that I long ago left behind any associations there."

Ser Ragnall's expression shows he doesn't believe a word of it.



Wendoll shakes his head. "A raven can go from the northeast to here and back in the same daylight hours, so it's better suited for tracking, especially if you have a general idea of where your quarry will be," he responds. "I honestly don't know how trainable bears are or aren't. Not sure I want to find out."

Fost grew more iritated with each word Fenwithe uttered. Did they really have to listen to the man's lies?

An actual growl escaped his throat at the mentioning of leaving behind any friends.
"You sure proved that ypu care shit about friendship.", he spat.

"Can't we just gag him?", he said exasperatedly to the templar.

The burly warrior listened to the exchange between Wendoll and Erin.
"If a bear were to watch and follow us I would sure take action. Ravens are less obvious, or so the assumption."
"I hate being watched. Makes my palms itch. As if something is about to happen. Drives me crazy not to know what. An ambush maybe. Better stay vigilant."

"It'll be my pleasure," Ser Ragnall responds gruffly. He stops the cart finds some spare cloth, and steps into the cage. Fenwithe protests cruelty and attempts to resist being gagged, but a terse threat of violence from the templar coerces his compliance.

A satisfied smile crosses his lips as he locks the gate and returns to take up his reins.




"If they are coming from the northeast, the enemy may be days away," Wendoll notes.

Tyrus, oblivious of his companions’ and animal companion’s reaction, nods along. So these are the Bannorns, ruled by commoners that own lands but they swear allegiance to the Bann every season or so? This seems to be a rather complicated system. I understand why the Orlesians had troubles occupying your region.” he says nonchalant and looks at the birds “We could try and drive them off. They’d likely scatter and return later but we’d be freed of their piercing eyes for a couple of minutes.”

Erin's eyes almost sparked alight as her two neurons happened to rub together for a change. "It just occurred to me, IF these are somehow being magically controlled to spy on us... Why would they have to run back to tell on us? Couldn't these apostates use their very eyes to do the same? How do these things work exactly?"

Rubbing his chin, Tyrus tries to remember everything he's read and learned about controlling animals and using their senses to perceive the world through the animal's eyes.
It takes him half a minute before he finally answers: "Controlling a living creature is... draining. Far beyond most mages I've studied with. Perhaps my Magister could have controlled someone like that with blood magic mostly and she'd have to be nearby to maintain control. I'm not sure if the controlled creature has to be within line of sight or if there's simply an ethereal connection which can't be too far apart." His eyes focus on the birds. "I believe they might have been trained... probably with the help of magic. They'll have to fly back and report whatever they've seen or heard. This also might be influenced by how much they can explain to whoever they're getting orders from."
"We could try and throw some food behind us and let them eat. They might be more interested in that than completing their task."

Looking and Wendoll, Tyrus nods upwards "Wendoll, you can hunt, perhaps you could keep an eye out for something those ravens could feast upon."

"Ravens eat pretty much anything, just like us," the elf notes. "My father told me once about a she-elf scout during the rebellion who kept a few ravens; she would occasionally trap and dress rodents and such for them as a treat - she normally fed them fresh grain for training. I suppose we could set a few snares the next time we stop with access to the ground, and dress the meat. Then, we drop one down when we see a scout. What do you think?"

OOC: I formulated the plan based on Tyrus' suggestion.

To fashion a set of simple rodent snares, it will be a Dexterity (crafting) check at TN 11. Fost has best Dex at +4, and Wendoll has a temporary bonus specialty from SP he rolled on his last check, so his assist will reduce the TN by 3 (to TN 8). I'll allow you to build a dozen with a single roll.

Cunning (natural lore) or Perception (tracking) vs. TN 13 will be used to properly place the snares once you're at a place to stay overnight.

I'll use the Dragon Die for each result to help me determine how many (if any) specimens are caught overnight.

Up to you all if you want to pursue it.

Fost grunted at the suggestions not quite as convinced about potential success as his friends seemed to be.
"Might as well make a couple of traps as dawdle at the camp fire. I'll do it."

---

rolled 16 using 3d6+4 (5 stunt points) with the AGE System with rolls of {5}, 5, 2.  DEX, build trap/snare.
rolled 15 using 3d6+4 with the AGE System with rolls of {1}, 6, 4.  DEX, build trap/snare.
rolled 14 using 3d6+4 (4 stunt points) with the AGE System with rolls of {4}, 4, 2.  DEX, build trap/snare.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:46, Wed 24 Jan.

Nodding, Tyrus sits around the campfire. Looking into the flames and simply waits. He knows little to nothing about setting or making traps and he prefers to look away instead of trying to learn something.

It's like Fost has made snares before, and he finishes some three dozen before supper is ready. They're fine examples, too. Wendoll quips something about mercenary life creating jacks-of-all-trades as he appreciates the workmanship. "I couldn't have done any better," he notes.

The elf scout takes about half the snares and disappears after supper, returning a short-ish time later, saying the snares are set. He checks the snares when he's wakened for his watch, and the rest of the group awakens to find the carcasses a two rabbits and two largish mice neatly field dressed; Wendoll reports only two snares were broken, and calls it a good night's trapping. He packs the meat in salt for preservation as others break camp, and discards the entrails at ground level.

The next day, the group successfully lures what they believe is a "spy raven" down to the ground with a couple strips of mouse meat. It immediately swoops it up, then proceeds to perch itself on the highway retaining wall to consume the gift.

OOC: Okay, what do you want to do with the raven? You can shoot it, attempt to capture it (Communication (Animal Handling)), or let it be.

FYI, you have 34 snares remaining, and currently enough meat for "several" luring attempts (about a week-ish of daily attempts, since that seems to be the pattern of the "spy raven's" appearances).

Not one to sit around and do nothing, Tyrus tries his best to approach the raven and capture it. Something must be off, perhaps its his lack of personal hygiene on the road or his nerves making his hands shake a little but somehow he doesn't seem very confident trying to approach the bird.

Can I add those 4 stunt points to my roll instead? (Just joking)

07:19, Today: Tyrus Morven rolled 8 using 3d6+2 (4 stunt points) with the AGE System (({4}, 1, 1))

Fost watched with curiosity what Tyrus tried to achieve.
Not mockingly, though, he just could not imagine what to do with the caputered bird.

It’s a bit comical, actually, to see this Tevinter mage - a man who can channel the raw power of the Fade, reshaping reality with but a thought and a flourish of his staff - attempt to capture a single raven. It seems to appreciate the free meal, and doesn’t appear to be afraid of the approaching mage, but it easily stays just out of arm's reach each time. Once, Tyrus lunges at it, catching it by the foot with his thumb and forefinger, before a quick peck from the bird surprises him and forces the man to release his grasp.

This goes on for a good hour (and several pieces of meat) before the bird has had enough of the dance and flies up to alight on a support pillar to watch. And, even though Tyrus never captures it, the raven does follow the group for the remainder of the day and takes its rest nearby overnight. The next morning, Wendoll reports to the group that it departed at first light.

The group continues along its route, and, by the end of their short break for a midday meal, have noticed no spies in the air so far. They pass a ramp down shortly after resuming in the afternoon, and both Erin and Wendoll happen to notice that something was once affixed to the stone via a pair of iron nails or dowels (it’s hard to tell), which appear to have been forcefully removed, leaving behind some marring of the stone around the holes. A sign was hung there at one point, perhaps?

When the rest of the party is informed, Ser Ragnall reminds them that nearby villages will sometimes post a temporary sign to announce an upcoming festival, but they usually take care to leave the nails in place for later usage; signs are also posted to note when travelers should descend to bypass a fallen section of the highway. The templar knows they should be coming upon one such section in the next day or so.

OOC: You’re each getting 100 experience for that little vignette; everyone should now have 7,650 exp total. It’s now the 3rd of Bloomintide.

What would you folks like to do?
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:25, Sun 18 Feb.

After having tried repeatedly to catch that bird he swipes sweat off his forehead and considers for a moment to simply kill it before leaving it be. He returns to his companions defeated. "I'm sure any of you could have done a better job." He grumbles as he trails behind the others.

With the note or sign torn off the wall Tyrus looks at the nails with curiosity. "Indeed? Ingenious yet simple." He looks around, protecing his eyes from the sun as he mutters "Though a notice board like that I'd assume somewhere nearer to the town."

"There may have been a settlement here at some point, but these highways make for excellent battlements. Archers and siege engines and the like," the templar smiles. "Or worse: mages."

Erin the farmer notices the earth in this area doesn't seem to be particularly arable at first glance, which might explain why the village isn't immediately nearby.

Tyrus himself recognizes that, while Lothering is near a crossroads, the lay of the land may have dictated the placement of the highway in ancient times, and that doesn't necessarily translate to having a village at every descent.

Fost had listened and tried to sum up.
"So let me get this. If there were a note it would warn us to leave the high road as a section ahead is broken. There is none, though. Bandits may be the cause for this, especially since our dear templar remarks on the excellent battlements.", he kneaded his lower lip in thought.
"So the question is: do we leave the high road or brave it?"
He paused then said with determination.
"We aim for speed to get rid of the apostate. I say we continue on the high road."

Tyrus, thinking about the whole situation for a minute, answers cautiously. "I concur, speed should be of utmost imortance, though perhaps Wendoll and Arnie can keep a look out?"

Erin idly kicked at the ground. "If an ambush is what we fear, then maybe is best that either Wendoll, I or both go ahead of our group, scouting ahead. That way we won't likely fall into some trap."

Fost nodded.
"Stay on the road then and scouting ahead."

On the lookout for danger, the group forges ahead, with Erin, Wendoll, and Arnie on point. Fost, mounted, is halfway between the scouts and the cart, with Ser Ragnall driving and Tyrus riding. An hour later, they spy another ramp down ahead.

Arnie starts to drift to the wall, his snout snuffling along the stone as he seems to have caught hold of something there. A low growl rumbles in his throat as he looks ahead.

Erin notices some dark patches where Arnie is investigating. The pattern unmistakably resembles the remnants of some man's waste water; that the stone is still wet means a man relieved himself recently. Looking ahead, she spies what appears to be a nook to the left, more than 50 yards beyond the ramp on the opposite side. A party between them would be in prime position to be ambushed.

Wendoll tilts his head as something appears to have caught his attention. He looks at Erin and Fost, and quietly points toward his ear and then the area of the ramp.

Fost notices on the right wall next to the ramp entrance has a discolored rectangular area, as if something that had been hanging for some time has been recently removed.

OOC: Okay, folks, what would you like to do? You see no one at the moment (except implied by the clues above). The entrance to the ramp (on the right) is about 17 yards ahead of Erin and the nook on the left is about 55 yards beyond that. Map 0 and Map 1 have been updated to the new scene.

We'll use combat round actions and movement for the moment.

Note to self -

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Thanks to his 5 SP, Arnie receives a +3 initiative if there is combat to be had quickly, and he also can place himself anywhere within 2 yards of his current position.

---

Erin goes back to the bulk group to share her findings. "There is at least one person somewhere ahead, likely more. Can't be too far but couldn't tell you exactly where." She said, pointing ahead. "If I was a betting woman, I would wager they are someplace up the ramp surveying the road or further ahead ready to block it, likely both."

---

Major: Run
Minor: Chit chat.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:32, Fri 01 Mar.

Having spend most of the time riding on the cart he hopped off and steps closer to Erin. "Bandits? Do you think it could have been a merchant or mercenary?" He looks past her, trying to take a closer look at what she might have seen. "Should we stay on the imperial highway and meet whoever we'll meet?"

Fost indicated the spot he had noticed.
"Could this be some sort of trap or previous road block ?"

"Let me ride down the ramp and see what there is to see."
He readied shield and sword

---

Minor: Ready + Minor: Ready

As Erin, Fost, and Tyrus discuss the possibilities of bandits and merchants and ambushes, Arnie moves to the middle of the highway and Wendoll sidles up to him, warily scanning ahead for danger.

Ser Ragnall secures the reins to the cart, hops down to join the others, and adds, "If these are bandits, it's likely the highway ahead is impassable before the next ramp down. That means they'll want to wait for us to pass before they spring their trap.

"You mentioned riding over to investigate," he continues, indicating Fost. "Perhaps you should have the elf cover you with his bow?"

Fost nodded.
"Sure. That ramp looks to be turning on itself, though, once I have gone down a turn he won't be able to cover me anymore I guess."
"Stay vigilant."
The warrior nudged his horse along.

---

rolled 6 using 3d6+2 (1 stunt point) with the AGE System with rolls of {1}, 2, 1.  PER
Yikes, OMG! I'll be riding right into the ambush

Tyrus looks ahead and tries to understand whatever Fost is saying. He watches Ser Ragnall making his way to the others. Clearly, something is going on. Deciding that at least one should remain with their "guest", Tyrus stays where he is and instead keeps his eyes open on the sky.

Do I see any crows around us? Dragons?

11:42, Today: Tyrus Morven rolled 10 using 3d6+1 with the AGE System (({6}, 1, 2)).

Fost rides forward toward the ramp, the rest of the party moving forward (Ser Ragnall leading the cart horse by its bridle) to be ready to help in the likely case their suspicions are proven correct. Arnie strides forward as well, a low growl in his throat as he continues to watch ahead.

He realizes quickly that the inside wall (to his right in this upper section) is only about mid-torso high on a man, much easier to look over than he originally suspected. Wendoll sneaks onto the ramp just behind the warrior's mount and uses the cover to peer over the edge and down; Fost is busy looking to the switchback and doesn't see what the elf does.

"Look out! Bandits!" he calls. Only then does Fost notice the four unruly-looking humans at the base of the ramp, pressed up against the inside wall, waiting for the opportunity to attack. The one in front clearly appears to be the leader.

OOC: Okay, fight's on! Everyone roll initiative!

I'm going to rule that Fost's poor Perception result means that he wasn't expecting the bandits to be right there and is somewhat taken aback. He will act last in Round 1. He will act normally on his initiative starting in Round 2.

Luckily Fost had already drawn sword and readied shield.
Still, he clearly had not anticipated, despite warning and indications, that enemies might be waiting so near.
Not an accomplished rider, or at least not specially trained in mounted combat, the burly warrior slipped off the horse and readied for the attacks to come.

---

Minor: Move, Major: Defend

Immediately tensing up when she heard the alarm, Erin held her glaive in both hands and ran towards Fost. Whatever those bandits may happen to have in numbers over them, they would neutralize using the outlaw's choice of terrain against them, or so she hoped anyway.

---

Minor: Ready Glaive
Major: Run

With his shoulders tensing up, Tyrus takes a second longer than he'd like and looks back at the wagon and Ser Ragnall: "I won't go far." he explains before moving a couple of yards forward. Holding his staff with both hands in front of him.

Minor Action: Move 4 yards forward

Major Action: Defense +2 defense

Round 1
With a feral shout, the lead bandit moves quickly in his light mail up the ramp and around the corner to meet Fost with a thrust of his long blade. He’s able to slip his weapon by the shield and impacts Fost’s armor solidly, but the veteran’s heavy mail fully deflects the attack, which the bandit uses to try to twist the shield off Fost’s arm. (Fost, please give me an attack roll, opposed by the lead bandit; you get a +1 to the roll for your height advantage.)

Erin readies her polearm and moves forward, easily reaching the fray.

The other thugs, with their simpler weapons and leather armor, rally up the ramp as they mimic their leader’s battlecry. The first two have their mauls ready for action, but the third, with his loaded crossbow in hand, raises it to try to pick off his archer counterpart. His shot impacts the stone wall just below Wendoll’s exposed head.

Wendoll stands and returns the favor; his aim is true and the arrow buries itself deep in the crossbowman’s midsection. (9 damage to Thug A)

Ser Ragnall responds to Tyrus, “I’ll wait to see if any decide to attack from ahead, since the mabari seems to think they’re there.” He gestures toward Arnie, who continues to growl quietly as he stares down the highway. The Templar continues forward after Tyrus stops, and raises his shield.

OOC: Fost, since the bandits were able to engage you this round and you haven’t acted yet, you’re welcome to change your actions for round 1 as you desire. Once you post that, I'll post the Bandit Leader's actions and call for Round 2 actions.

Fost
Evil GM, for the NPC Bandit Leader, rolled 19 using 3d6+4 (5 stunt points) with the AGE System with rolls of {5}, 5, 5.  Longsword +5, -1 for height difference vs Fost.

Evil GM, for the NPC Bandit Leader, rolled 7 using 2d6+3 with rolls of 2,2.  Longsword Damage 2d6+3.

He spends 2SP to use Disarm on Fost, and another 2SP to use Advance (which allows his subordinates within 12 yards to move 2 yards in any direction).

Opposed attack roll: Evil GM, for the NPC Bandit Leader, rolled 12 using 3d6+4 (1 stunt point) with the AGE System (({1}, 6, 1)). Fost has to roll a 12 or higher (he wins the tiebreaker for Ability Scores).

Erin
I purposely placed Erin so that Fost can dismount on his turn at the end of the round (if he wishes to keep that action). Thankfully, there are age-old tactics for a polearm user attacking opponents from behind a shield bearer (and she still can attack from reach if he stays mounted)..

Wendoll
Evil GM, for the NPC Thug A, rolled 11 using 3d6 with the AGE System.  Crossbow +3 vs. Wendoll, -3 for Heavy Cover.

Evil GM, on behalf of Wendoll Ethen, rolled 18 using 3d6+6 with the AGE System.  Dalish Yew Longbow +6 vs. Thug A.

Evil GM, on behalf of Wendoll Ethen, rolled 13 using 1d6+7.  Dalish Yew Longbow Damage 1d6+7.

Tyrus
In his current position, Tyrus can see a bit of Thug A’s head. Everyone else is obscured by the highway wall.

Health
Erin 60/60
Fost 62/62
Tyrus 41/41
Wendoll 40/40
Arnie 25/25

Ser Ragnall 0 Healthy

Bandit Leader 0 Healthy
Thug A -9 Heavy
Thug B 0 Healthy
Thug C 0 Healthy

NPC Health Conditions:
Uninjured (100% Health remaining)
Light (at least 75% Health remaining)
Moderate (at least 50% Health remaining)
Heavy (at least 10% Health remaining)
Critical (less than 10% Health remaining)


This message was last edited by the GM at 14:45, Wed 10 Apr.

Fost cursed as the obvious leader of the thugs advanced quickly on him and deftly swung his blade at the still mounted warrior.
He felt the impact on his swordarm and was glad to wear sturdy armor. A small turn of his own blade's angle at the last moment allowed him to prevent being disarmed.
While bolts and arrows filled the air and his companions closed with the enemy he slipped off the horse, took a short step to allow him to swing his own new sword with more force and solidly struck the foe on the shoulder, the light mail's metal rings parting from the mighty blow and drawing blood.

---

Round 01: Move, Attack
rolled 17 using 2d6+5.  Long Sword Damage.
rolled 18 using 3d6+7 with the AGE System with rolls of {5}, 4, 2.  Long Sword attack.
rolled 20 using 3d6+8 with the AGE System with rolls of {4}, 3, 5.  Longsword, oppose disarm, +1 included.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:32, Tue 09 Apr.

Trusting Arnie's instincts, Tyrus takes a few steps back, holding his staff with both hands tightly, he talks to their prisoner "I guess these are not your friends? If you're lucky then they'll kill you quickly." secretly he hoped that whatever is attacking Fost, Erin and Wendoll is quickly dealt with.

Action: defense +2 defense until the beginning of my next turn.

Fost’s strike drives deep past the brigand’s armor, wounding him. (12 damage to Bandit Leader)

Meanwhile, the horse is on the verge of panicking as it’s surrounded by combatants on all sides and presses itself against the wall to its right.

Round 2
Stung by the ferocity of his quarry’s riposte, the bandit leader takes a defensive stance and yells, “Open a hole! I don’t care how!”

OOC: Just be aware the horse may become a problem.

The bandit leader is performing Stand Firm and Defend this round.

Round 2 actions for everyone (but Tyrus), please!

Health
Erin 60/60
Fost 62/62
Tyrus 41/41
Wendoll 40/40
Arnie 25/25

Bandit Leader -12 Moderate
Thug A -9 Heavy
Thug B 0 Healthy
Thug C 0 Healthy

NPC Health Conditions:
Uninjured (100% Health remaining)
Light (at least 75% Health remaining)
Moderate (at least 50% Health remaining)
Heavy (at least 10% Health remaining)
Critical (less than 10% Health remaining)

Whith a growl Fost pressed the attack. His Avvar heritage made his vision turn bloodred as he swung his sword at the bandit. There was no finesse in his attack, just sheer and merciless strength.
Despite his foe's focus on defending himself, clearly hoping that numbers would soon carry the day for their side, Fost's relentless and brutal downward slash bit deep into the enemy's arm that was futilely raised to block the attack.
The warrior expected the bandit to lose his courage soon enough and he counted on him yielding space and retreat, presumably with the other thugs covering his retreat. Fost had no reason to kill the man, if he retreated he could well accept chopping away at the other thugs.

---

Round 02
Attack, Press the Atrack
rolled 20 using 3d6+7 with the AGE System with rolls of {3}, 4, 6.  Long Sword attack
Bother, I had need of SPs to skirmish/move that horse :(
rolled 13 using 2d6+5.  Long Sword Damage
This message was last edited by the player at 15:50, Wed 10 Apr.

Finally, in position to both assist Fost and completely block the ramp, Erin swung her glaive at the brigand ahead from the top down. Outlaws like these were particularly despicable to her, even the freak things they had faced not so long ago were victims of their own twisted nature, these people, however, they chose to be the scum they were...

---

Major: Attack    Minor: Press the Atrack
12:21, Today: Erin rolled 11 using 3d6+2 with the AGE System with rolls of {3}, 4, 2.  Glaive attack.
12:23, Today: Erin rolled 12 using 2d6+3.  Glaive Damage (maybe).

Fost’s second attack easily overpowers the brigand’s shield and strikes with a mighty crack against the man’s mail. The brigand seems to momentarily wither under the force of the blow, but he shakes his head and recovers quickly. But, make no mistake, those strikes in succession stung the man. (Bandit Leader takes 8 damage)

 Erin follows Fost’s attack with one of her own, using reach to her advantage to find a gap in the brigand’s defenses. The bandit staggers again and seems nearly done in by that third hit. (Bandit Leader takes 7 damage)

Ser Ragnall remains vigilant, drawing his sword.

The crossbow-wielding thug drops his weapon and slips forward, using cover to his advantage as he reaches around the corner to try to gain control of the horse. Fost’s mount, on the edge of being fully spooked, makes it impossible just to grab its reins, let alone trying to get control.

The next thug is already tired of the beast’s presence, beats his sword against his shield in an attempt to intimidate it into retreating. It has some effect, and the horse retreats a yard. The thug follows his quarry.

The third thug in the group maintains his position, though his leader’s condition isn’t lost on him, and he seems less interested in engaging the enemy than he was just a few seconds ago.

Three thugs rush out of the alcove, two running at breakneck speed toward the travelers, while the third gives himself a shooting angle and - realizing he can’t reach the templar from his position - fires at the mabari. His aim is true, even at the edge of his effective range, and a bolt strikes Arnie hard. The dog yips and leaps in pain. (Arnie takes 12 damage)

The thug quickly steps forward, a ready bolt slipped into position and the string pulled back, and he gets within the edge of his range against the templar and fires. Again, his aim is true, and the bolt finds a weak spot in the holy warrior’s plate armor. (Ser Ragnall takes 2 damage)

Wendoll decides he needs to end the bandit leader and tries to thread an arrow past his allies. The arrow finds its mark and puts the elf’s quarry to the ground. (Bandit Leader takes 3 damage and is reduced to 0 Health)

Arnie surges forward toward the two advancing bandits, ready to attack if one gets close.

OOC: I’m stopping here, since Thugs D, E, and F appeared before Tyrus could act. Feel free to adjust your post, if you’d like to change your actions for Round 2.

Also, the folks on the ramp can tell the three bandits are unnerved by their leader’s collapse.

*~*~*~*~*
Erin enjoyed a 2-to-1 and height advantage over the bandit leader, which turned her miss (11) into a hit (13).

Evil GM, for the NPC Thug A, rolled 7 using 3d6-1 with the AGE System with rolls of {2}, 1, 5.  Communication (Animal Handling) -1 vs. TN12.

Evil GM, for the NPC Thug B, rolled 13 using 3d6+5 with the AGE System with rolls of {1}, 2, 5.  Strength (Intimidation) +5 vs. TN14.

D & E Move and take the Run Major Action. F Moves and makes a Ranged Attack

Evil GM, for the NPC Thug F, rolled 17 using 3d6+1 (5 stunt points) with the AGE System with rolls of {5}, 5, 6.  Crossbow +1 (long range) vs. Arnie.

Evil GM, for the NPC Thug F, rolled 12 using 2d6+1 with rolls of 6,5.  Crossbow Damage 2d6+1 vs. Arnie.

Thug F spends, in order, 1 SP on Skirmish (move 2 yds forward), 1 SP on Rapid Reload, and 3 SP on Lightning Attack.

Evil GM, for the NPC Thug F, rolled 8 using 3d6+1 (1 stunt point) with the AGE System with rolls of {1}, 1, 5.  Crossbow +1 (long range) vs. Ser Ragnall.

Evil GM, for the NPC Thug F, rolled 10 using 2d6+1 with rolls of 3,6.  Crossbow Damage 2d6+1 vs. Ser Ragnall.

Evil GM, on behalf of Wendoll Ethen, rolled 15 using 3d6+5 with the AGE System.  Longbow +6, +1 High Ground, -2 Def. in Melee.

Evil GM, on behalf of Wendoll Ethen, rolled 8 using 1d6+7.  Longbow Damage 1d6+7.

Arnie is using the Prepare action to attack if one bandit comes within range.

D is 5 yds from Arnie, 23 yds from Ser Ragnall, and 29 yds from Tyrus.
E is 7, 25, and 31 yds, respectively.
F is 33, 51, and 56 yds, respectively.

Health
Erin 60/60
Fost 62/62
Tyrus 41/41
Wendoll 40/40
Arnie 13/25

Ser Ragnall -2 Light

Bandit Leader -28 Dying
Thug A -9 Heavy
Thug B 0 Healthy
Thug C 0 Healthy
Thug D 0 Healthy
Thug E 0 Healthy
Thug F 0 Healthy

NPC Health Conditions:
Uninjured (100% Health remaining)
Light (at least 75% Health remaining)
Moderate (at least 50% Health remaining)
Heavy (at least 10% Health remaining)
Critical (less than 10% Health remaining)

Glad that he stood back while watching their prisoner, Tyrus watches Arnie darting forward and shortly after being hit by a crossbow bolt. "No!" He exclaims rather quietly as he concentrates on the arcane energies, he summons a powerful force, pushing down upon two nearby attackers. Once he cast the spell he calls out "There are more here!"

Action: Mind Blast Bandit D and E, they have to pass a (Might) TN 16 or be knocked prone and skip their major action on their next turn.

21:03, Today: Tyrus Morven rolled 13 using 3d6+6 with the AGE System (({1}, 2, 4)).
This message was last edited by the player at 02:14, Wed 17 Apr.

Fost grinned with menace as he advanced on the other thugs.
His attack was not as brutal as against the leader but with a broad horizontal slash his blade cut into both foes, a red line apearing on one's leg and on the other's abdomen, the leathers parting easily.
"Run, you fools! Or die!", he growled,  bloodlust having taken control of the large warrior.

---

Round 03: Move, Attack
rolled 6 using 1d6 with rolls of 6.  Mighty Blow damage vs Thug B
rolled 10 using 2d6+5.  Long Sword Damage Thug C.
rolled 12 using 2d6+5.  Long Sword Damage, Thug B.
rolled 20 using 3d6+7 (6 stunt points) with the AGE System with rolls of {6}, 1, 6.  Long Sword attack.

Attack 20 vs Thug B, total 18 damage
Attack 20 vs Thug C, 10 damage

SPs
4->3: Dual Strike
2->1: Defensive Stance, +2 Defense
2: Mighty Blow vs Thug B
This message was last edited by the player at 08:41, Sat 20 Apr.

Seeing as Fost Felled the apparent leader (or at least the most courageous) of the bandits, Erin shadowed his advance and assisted in his offensive thrusting her glaive from behind him, trying to slash any bandits in reach. With some commotion going on behind them, Erin wasn't sure if the men ahead were just a distraction or not, their comrades would have to make do without them for the time being, however.

---

Major: Attack    Minor: Move
Stunts: Dual strike (3) Mighty blow (2)
18:40, Today: Erin rolled 16 using 3d6+2 (6 stunt points) with the AGE System with rolls of {6}, 2, 6.  Glaive attack.
01:51, Today: Erin rolled 5 using 2d6+3.  Glaive Damage.
01:52, Today: Erin rolled 4 using 1d6.  Mighty blow damage.
01:57, Today: Erin rolled 7 using 2d6+3.  Glaive Damage 2 (just in case).

The mage’s well-timed spell knocks both men down, and they appear disoriented by the blast. Artie barks twice in response.

Spooked by the carnage in front of it, the horse hastily backpedals into Wendoll, who gently nudges it to the side, to keep it from trampling him.

Round 3

The ferocity of Fost’s attack unnerves both thugs and they’re slow to defend. The one on the right is nearly sliced in twain, his innards threatening to spill out as he falls backwards. The followthrough sweeps across the torso of his companion, who twists away in pain and shock. (Thug B takes 14 damage, Thug C takes 6 damage)

Erin attacks the opposite way, her polearm blade sweeping left to right and catching the shocked opponents unprepared. The one on the right is done in and falls where he stood. (Thug C takes 5 damage, Thug B takes 3 damage)

Ser Rangall rushes forward after seeing Tyrus’ handiwork, stopping alongside the mabari.

Faced with the seemingly unstoppable rage of the near-barbarian in front of them, supported by the “deviltrix” with the glaive, the two remaining thugs on the ramp take heed of Fost’s command, and exit the scene with all speed as they try to put as much distance between themselves and the murderous travelers above.

The two blasted thugs on the highway slowly stand and attempt to regain their bearings. The trailing thug advances and reloads his crossbow.

Arnie surges forward and closes his jaws around the leg of the thug on the left. (Thug D takes 5 damage.)

Wendoll places his hand on the mount’s flank and uses it to let the horse know he’s moving around behind it. Once he’s back on the highway, the elf advances and knocks an arrow.

OOC: Okay, actions, everyone! The tide of the skirmish is definitely turning in your favor.

Evil GM, for the NPC Thug D, rolled 13 using 3d6+3 (2 stunt points) with the AGE System with rolls of {2}, 4, 4.  Strength (Might) vs. TN 16.

Evil GM, for the NPC Thug E, rolled 11 using 3d6+3 with the AGE System with rolls of {3}, 1, 4.  Strength (Might) vs. TN 16.

Evil GM, on behalf of Erin, rolled 4 using 1d6 with rolls of 4.  1-3 = B first, 1-4 = C first.

Evil GM, for the NPC Fost's Mount, rolled 9 using 3d6 with the AGE System with rolls of {2}, 4, 3.  Kick +0 vs. Wendoll.

Evil GM, for the NPC Arnie, rolled 15 using 3d6+5 with the AGE System with rolls of {1}, 6, 3.  Bite +5 vs. Thug D.

Evil GM, for the NPC Arnie, rolled 9 using 1d6+4 with rolls of 5.  Bite Damage 1d6+4.

D is adjacent to Arnie, ~5 yds from Ser Ragnall, ~10 yds from Wendoll, and ~29 yds from Tyrus.
E is 2, ~8, ~22 and ~31 yds, respectively.
F is ~20, ~26, ~40, and ~49 yds, respectively.

Health
Erin 60/60
Fost 62/62
Tyrus 41/41
Wendoll 40/40
Arnie 13/25

Ser Ragnall -2 Light

Bandit Leader -28 Dying
Thug A -9 Heavy
Thug B -15 Dying
Thug C -11 Heavy
Thug D -5 Moderate
Thug E 0 Healthy
Thug F 0 Healthy

NPC Health Conditions:
Uninjured (100% Health remaining)
Light (at least 75% Health remaining)
Moderate (at least 50% Health remaining)
Heavy (at least 10% Health remaining)
Critical (less than 10% Health remaining)

Fost spat blood.
Not that he had been hurt, except for biting his own inside cheek.
Then he turned, nodded to Erin, and hastened to the other fight.
"We're not done yet."

---

Run+Move

Erin stared down at the ruined men that now laid along the ramp, perhaps a bit lost in thought before Fost set the next objective. Warily glancing at the fleeing bandits, Erin nodded dashed after Fost to join whatever battle was to be had on the other side.

---

Run and move too.

Noticing how effective his spell is, Tyrus once more summoning an arcane force, pushing down upon those highwaymen. "ARNIE NOW!" He encourages the dog

Action: Mind Blast just behind Bandit D, trying to get Bandit E without hurting Arnie. They have to pass a STR (Might) check TN 16 or fall prone and unable to use any major action on their next turn.

Tyrus Morven rolled 12 using 3d6+6 with the AGE System with rolls of {1}, 3, 2.  Mind Blast.

The two thugs have had just enough time to gather their bearings when they’re smacked down by the concussive force of the raw power of the Fade and Tyrus’ expert shaping of it.

Round 4
Fost and Erin round the rear of the horse and sprint onto the highway, racing toward the enemy line, such as it is, to find that both Arnie and Ser Ragnall appear injured to various degrees, the two thugs nearest the mabari are on the ground, their heads swooning, and a third thug is in the distance, ready to raise his crossbow.

The templar steps forward with purpose and levels his blade at a point between the two stunned thugs. “First one that tries to get up, I end. Stay. Down,” he orders.

As they regain their wits, the two thugs realize their predicament and release their weapons, raising their hands meekly in defeat. The crossbowman, his eyes having grown wide at the arrival of additional opponents, fires at the templar and turns to flee. The bolt shatters against Ser Ragnall’s raised shield.

Wendoll slides forward and looses an arrow at the fleeing bandit, penetrating a soft spot in his leathers. (Thug F takes 7 damage.)

OOC: Actions for everyone, please. Do you let the crossbowman flee, or do you want to chase him down?

Evil GM, for the NPC Thug E, rolled 13 using 3d6+3 with the AGE System with rolls of {5}, 1, 4.  Strength (Might) vs. TN 16.

Evil GM, for the NPC Thug D, rolled 12 using 3d6+3 with the AGE System with rolls of {3}, 4, 2.  Strength (Might) vs. TN 16.

Evil GM, on behalf of Wendoll Ethen, rolled 12 using 3d6+4 with the AGE System with rolls of {3}, 1, 4.  Dalish Yew Longbow +6 vs. Thug F, Long Range -2.

Evil GM, on behalf of Wendoll Ethen, rolled 11 using 1d6+7 with rolls of 4.  Dalish Yew Longbow Damage 1d6+7.

F is ~30 yds from Arnie, ~28 yds from Ser Rangall, ~36 yds from Erin, ~42 yds from Fost, ~59 yds from Tyrus, and ~34 yds from Wendoll

Health
Erin 60/60
Fost 62/62
Tyrus 41/41
Wendoll 40/40
Arnie 13/25

Ser Ragnall -2 Light

Bandit Leader -28 Dying
Thug A -9 Heavy - FLED
Thug B -15 Dying
Thug C -11 Heavy - FLED
Thug D -5 Moderate - Prone, Surrendering
Thug E 0 Healthy - Prone, Surrendering
Thug F -7 Moderate

NPC Health Conditions:
Uninjured (100% Health remaining)
Light (at least 75% Health remaining)
Moderate (at least 50% Health remaining)
Heavy (at least 10% Health remaining)
Critical (less than 10% Health remaining)

The red haze in front of Fost's eyes lifts and he swipes his sword clean on the rags of one of the prone thugs who cringes in fear of being killed.
"Stay still or I will change my mind.", he growled.
He watched the retreating thug and snorted.
"I have no wish to chase this fellow."
This message was last edited by the player at 08:44, Fri 03 May.

Tyrus rushing forward grinds his teeth seeing the last man retreating. Not willing to let him escape Tyrus once more summons magic from the fade to force the runner down onto the ground.A feeling of dread washes over him before he looks back at their current prisoner.

Move: 10yards forward
Action: Mind blast target has to pass a STR (Might) check TN 16 or fall prone and unable to use any major action on their next turn.
Mind blast is my favorite spell...
Tyrus Morven rolled 13 using 3d6+6 with the AGE System with rolls of {4}, 1, 2.  Mind Blast.

Seeing as they had arrived just in time to see the end of it, Erin just stood by the others, seeing the last of the wouldbe robbers flee. She cackled, saying out loud. "Bet you I could catch him... But that little cage is not big enough for so many bandits." Looking at the surrendering men, she asked them. "Are there so many wealthy travelers that warrants this abundance of highwaymen on this road?"

Once again, Tyrus calls on the power of the Fade to infiltrate and scramble the mind of his foes. And, as with the two times before, his victim is knocked down, stunned.

Round 5

As Erin and Fost make their thoughts known, the two thugs are content to remain captured. The fleeing bandit is able to stand and stumble forward a few yards, but takes time to gather his wits about him; meanwhile, Wendoll sprints ahead, nocking an arrow as he closes in.

“You’ve seen what I can do at range, my friend. Do you want to try me up close?” he warns the bandit. The thug doesn’t seem to have the will to continue the fight, nor is he inclined to get impaled by the sharpshooter, so he raises his hands high in surrender.

Wendoll has him get to his knees and calls back to the rest of the group, “The highway is collapsed just ahead of me. Looks like our friends had some ropes set up for a quick escape down, though.”

Meanwhile, Ser Ragnall sets to disarming the two men in front of him. "Merchants fool enough to travel without escort, or without competent escort," he answers Erin. "I'm sure these knaves have some shady buyers waiting for them in one of the bannorn nearby."

OOC: I’m going to take us out of combat at this point.

Mind Blast can be very effective in delaying/preventing enemy attacks, especially in “crowd control” situations (minions of a BBEG, for instance). Tyrus is using it in the manner in which the spell was intended.

Wendoll is using his Minor Action to Reload and his Major Action to Run.

Evil GM, for the NPC Thug F, rolled 7 using 3d6+3 (1 stunt point) with the AGE System with rolls of {1}, 1, 2.  Strength (Might) vs. TN 16.

F is ~35 yds from Arnie, ~33 yds from Ser Rangall, ~41 yds from Erin, ~47 yds from Fost, ~54 yds from Tyrus, and ~7 yds from Wendoll

Health
Erin 60/60
Fost 62/62
Tyrus 41/41
Wendoll 40/40
Arnie 13/25

Ser Ragnall -2 Light

Bandit Leader -28 Dying
Thug A -9 Heavy - FLED
Thug B -15 Dying
Thug C -11 Heavy - FLED
Thug D -5 Moderate - Prone, Surrendering
Thug E 0 Healthy - Prone, Surrendering
Thug F -7 Moderate

NPC Health Conditions:
Uninjured (100% Health remaining)
Light (at least 75% Health remaining)
Moderate (at least 50% Health remaining)
Heavy (at least 10% Health remaining)
Critical (less than 10% Health remaining)

Seeing that their previous prisoner is still alive and behind bars he takes a couple of steps forward towards the bandits and his allies. Ignoring most he makes his way to Arnie, kneels down and takes a look at his wounds. "You're a brave one. Strong and brave." He takes 5 minutes trying to clean the wounds with some of his water and reassuring the Mabari.


8 for healing and 3 stunt points? Anything I can do with this?

Today: Tyrus Morven rolled 8 using 3d6+3 (3 stunt points) with the AGE System

Fost grunted.

Most of times he had no intent to kill people. In fact, he only had a real hatred for the truly depraved like the mage they had as prisoner. Bandits, while evil to some degree, did typically not awake his ire to an extent as to want them dead.

"I believe that two others at the ramp are still alive, barely.",  he said to no one particular.
He had no healing skills and thus was happy not to be forced to make this choice of deciding whether to let them die or revive them.

"We should take them into custody and deliver them to the local authorities and be done with them."
"If we find someone nearby."
"I have no wish to make extra tours. Not with our dear fellow there on our hands."
This message was last edited by the player at 08:49, Fri 03 May.

"Well, we have to descend, anyway," Ser Ragnall notes. "There's always a village near-enough by these ramps. They should be able to hold our friends until the local bann can make judgment.

"Come on, you lot. You get a seat next to an apostate; if you behave, I won't poke him 'til he turns into an abomination..."

Fost nodded.
He went back to his horse and mounted, steering it down the ramp.

Tyrus nods and returns to "his" seat. He watches the newest additions to their prisoner train and lets the others lead them and the wagon.

The additional prisoners secured, the group head down the ramp and take a well-worn path that leads to the village of Bexbie, where they arrive late in the afternoon. The buildings of the village sit against the southern edge of a small boxwood grove, farms spread out to the south and east, leaving the group’s southwesterly approach largely untamed meadow and open grazing land.

The headman of the village is also the butcher, Clement, who notes they have some pens to hold the bandits until word can be sent to Bann Rolan, and mentions one of the thugs is known to him - Willam, the “former” son of one of the village’s farmers.

Clement offers the travelers the use of the vacant manor house for the night - which he says hasn’t been occupied since Ser Elmore succumbed to an illness about a year ago.

OOC: Do you take Clement up on his offer? It is late enough you folks will need to set up camp in an hour or so, if you decide to continue on.

Health
Erin 60/60
Fost 62/62
Tyrus 41/41
Wendoll 40/40
Arnie 21/25

Ser Ragnall -2 Light

"I do think we should accept the gracious offer. We would not be able to travel until we need to rest anyway and this manor would allow us to rest in comfort."
"Unless there is some curse upon it which caused the end of this Ser Elmore.", Fost offered.

"No curse I know of," Clement responds with a shrug. "Tragedy hung over that place for a long patch, sure enough. Ser Elmore's wife and son disappeared without a trace just after Satinalia a couple years back. The good knight took ill that winter and never recovered; took him a good six months to die.

"My wife says it was no illness, but a broken heart that took him," the butcher notes. "Truth be told, the manor always gives me a sense of sadness when I'm up there. But, it's in good repair; on my life it is. We keep it so, just in case Bann Rolan ever sees fit to install another knight there."

Staying behind the others he watches as the villagers take the prisoners to... animal pens? Shaking his head he simply remains silent until Fost speaks up "Oh, yes. Let's stay there. It will be nice to have a roof over my head and walls to keep insects and their ilk out."

Tyrus notices the one identified as William is getting repeatedly cuffed on the back of his head by one of his escorts as the man berates him.

Watching the "expression of feelings", Tyrus continues to watch and asks the headman of the village "This Bann Rolan, how is he going to deal with these scroundrels?" He pauses for a moment before continuing "I believe we usually just hang them."

Fost chuckled.
"We might just do the same. After Bann Rolan teils us to."

Erin shook her head. "Such a waste, to have opportunities as he did and squander them with banditry no less. Bringing shame to the family, hounding the roads near the land that raised him. The least he could do is travel further, where nobody would recognize him."

"Last bandits around here were hunted down like dogs by Lord Rolan's soldiers. Killed to the last man," Clement says. "I doubt these'll get any mercy from him. Except Will, maybe. He's young - a good amount of shame and a few beatings will probably get him back on the narrow."

The butcher escorts the party to the manor, which is as advertised. The building is small, by noble standards - probably no more than three or four rooms in total - but it has its own stable and the area around it is peaceful. A woman is scattering feed for a few hens and their brood in front of the house, but the place is otherwise quiet.

"Ma, this here is a templar and his entourage from Lothering," he says to the woman. "Ser Ragnall. Fost, Tyrus, Erin, and Wendoll. And their dog, Artie.

"Folks, this is my wife, Nance." As the introductions are being made, a melancholy pall does seem to gently settle over the manor...more so with Tyrus than the others.

The woman turns and smiles a simple smile at the newcomers. "Maker be with you."