Word makes its way to Port Hempstead authorities that several gypsy wagons were found burned to the ground near Lake Gavasha. All valuables were taken and the families were slaughtered. Suspicion points to Rashish "The Red." Military patrols in the area have been heightened.
An out of breath messenger bursts into the Angel's Guild and promptly tells of a vicious attack on one of their supply caravans near the village of Dapplegreen, discovered by merchants passing through . Two wagon loads of platinum ore were missing. The guards and two wagon men were slain. One of the wagon men, a long time contractor and friend named Rory McLean had his arms and legs tied to separate oxen, and the beasts were then driven off. His death was very messy, and the pain he went through can only be imagined. Fingers are again pointing at Rashish The Red.
Storold Doesscha of the Raven Trade guild of Stort and Port Hempstead announces that they are willing to add another 5000 true into the reward for the capture or proof of the death of Rashish The Red in sympathy with the loss suffered by the Angel's Guild.
The attacks attributed to Rashish the Red in Southern and Central Mistone continue, and disruption to local trade has been significant. With the recent offer of large reward from the Raven Trade guild there has been a noticeable influx of mercenary companies and adventurers seeking to collect. Although no major breakthroughs have been made, a Co’rys mercenary company based in Fort Vehl claims to have destroyed one of Rashish the Red’s scouting units and recovered an undecipherable message. They have shared it with several experts who have been equally perplexed. It reads:
Vyklyz- Klhao huk thfolt, kpclya aol nhgl vm aol hbaovypaplz. Wylclua h mvjbzlk puclzapnhapvu huk wyvalja vby aybl viqljapcl.
Vincent Coste an aging mercenary makes a nuisance of himself on hearing of the size of the reward. He tells anyone who will listen he is something of a specialist and he has decoded the strange script for anyone who has the respect to look him up. He rants on declaring the situation is very serious and likely much more death and terrible destruction is likely to follow. Professionnals are needed this is no country for amateur adventurers he adds.
//If Vincent did decode the message, PM me the results. It will be worth 1,000xp.
//Outstanding job Mix/Vincent. See me in game for your XP tap.
As Vincent Coste is in the middle of one of his rants at a small inn called “The Oak Barrel” in the small village of Dapplegreen, a human man with severely decayed teeth slides up to the bar next to him and smiles. You can almost feel his dental cavities as he begins to speak. “I heard you decoded some type of message, no? I have an employer... a merchant named Boris Shiel “The Unwashed” in Fort Vehl who would be willing to part with some coin if you’re willing to do some talking? Let me buy you a drink…”
Vincent takes the opportunity to finish his current drink, spilling a little as he clumsily swallows. "Aha good news Sir, have I got things to tell your friend, such terrible things that I have seen and heard.... oh there is so much we must share...starting with some more Dapple Cider there if you please and perhaps we could consider a snack or two, we may be here for some time. But first excuse me a moment, the little boys room before we start such a tale of adventure, treasure and such dangers as one could only fear to imagine."
He gets up, surveys the scene and anyone new, before departing in the direction of the boys room apparently a little the worse for drink and actually intent on departing.
"Not my type of crowd he considers, I will seek out paymasters I know, it may be less pay but at least I might get to spend it!" he considers.
Vincent does not notice anyone new through wisps of pipe smoke and the dim light of oil candles. He makes his way to the “little boy’s room” without incident and is able to easily sneak out a window and make a hasty departure into the night.
The man with bad teeth sits at the bar for a long period of time, much longer that would have been required for the mouthy man to use the “facilities.” He eats his meal in silence, and when done begins picking morsels of cheese and other debris from between his crooked yellow incisors. A second hooded man approaches and slides into the chair next to him. Without looking up the man with bad teeth tells him, “Go tell the boss... someone has intercepted orders. I don’t know the extent of the damage yet.” The second man quickly departs without a word, and the man seated at the bar continues picking his teeth.
Taking some spell like precautions to ensure he is not followed Vincent Coste thereafter sends a message to Storold the reward man seeking to know to whom he should deliver his translation. He makes his way to Center meantime to take stock at that collection of tents, mobile homes, and straw builds sure he will find interested wannabees in need of specialist services. He takes fast carriage in over dramtic effort to remain unnoticed.
Storold sends a letter informing Vincent that he would preffer that word is sent to Storold himself, the local Roferienite outpost and the Angel's Guild. Whilelocal authorities would most certainly be interested in facilitating the capture of the criminal it would of course also be open for Vincent to form his own search party when he has made sure that all interested parties have been informed. Storold of course also offers a small reward for the work done by Vincent to be collected when ever they have a chance to meet.
A battered and singed group of Rofirein knights hastily make their way into the camp/ramshackle town of Center and immediately set up a triage tent to begin treating their wounded. Thankfully there are no dead. Word spreads in the small community like wildfire that the knights encountered a group of bandits less than 20 miles from town, and Unit Captain Dreardan is hard pressed to stem the resulting panic. Nevertheless, refugees and other residents are on edge, scared, and many are beginning to pack up their belongings in case a hasty exodus must be started. The intelligence the knights gathered is tightly controlled and they have not related any details of their encounter… or how a heavily armored unit of knights was routed so easily.
Unit Captain Dreardan motions one of his knights to him, “Blain, make haste for the nearest temple. Leave word that the assistance of any knight in the area is requested. Center will be the rendezvous point. We will hold this position for three days to ensure there is no incursion… then we head out to finish what we started.” Blain salutes and immediately heads to his horse… oblivious to his wounds.
Therhcha Doesscha arives in Center and reports to Captain Dreardan, offering his help as a knight of the Wyrm in this time of need.
Captain Dreardan nods at Therhcha Doesscha with a tight and forced smile on his lips. “I’m glad you were able to answer the call my Brother. I fear in time we may need many more swords though. These bandits are not your ordinary highwaymen. They are well-versed in military tactics. A second bandit force was shadowing the main body, and before we were aware of them they were upon us. The main bandit body escaped us while we were dealing with the second force. Before they were out of sight though I glimpsed something that brings me great worry… although I have not been able to put a label on what it was yet." He frowns a little and then says, "Go ahead and join the rest of the men. If you know any healing arts, please dispense them. We need to have these men operational again as soon as possible."
"I am sorry sir I only know how to swing a blade, but by the look of it you need all the help you can get to face this dire threath to the safety of the local population. I will start patrolling the peremiters of town at once." Therhcha heads out to start his rounds walking around the edges of Center looking for any trouble heading their way.
Therhcha Doesscha patrols the perimeter of the town several times and does not see any sign of imminent attack. From experience he knows that what often “seems to be” is not actually “reality” though, and he is very cautious. Several times he gets the feeling that he is not alone... or perhaps being watched, but his investigations of likely sources all come up empty.
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// Dalianavera lay very still in the brush at the top of the small rise watching the lone armored knight patrol the perimeter of the town. She was a master of her craft. He was brave, she gave him that… but perhaps a tad overconfident. She also watched several other patrols as well. In one of the very few movements she had made all day she lowered the optical device she had been using to scout the area. Her green demon scale armor clung to her alluring humanoid female form and portions were visible for a fraction of a second, including a long barbed tail, but the burlap cloth and vegetation tied to anchor points all over it quickly made her appear as one of the many small bushes in her vicinity. She continued her surveillance.
Vincent Coste finds himself at center sending birds when Captain Dreardan and his men arrive. He spots the captain briefing some spirited citizen ready to do his duty. He gingerly wafts a sword about a couple of times before walking off to speak with the town crier, looking for all the part something like a public minded citizen. "Crier, still thy fearful voice lest you panic those not used to the spill of blood and the terrible anguish of pain. Fear not for now, whatever has passed beyond the walls is not yet within. I will guard you this hour while the troopers tend to their ill, brought low with terrible and decaying wound. With good fortune we may yet live through to the morning, though beyond that I would not be so foppishly foolish to predict. " He carefully puts the sword back in it's scabbard at the second attempt.
The town crier looks at Vincent for several moments considering his response carefully… after all, the man was waving around a sword and sounds a little off kilter. “ Err.. Good sir, I thank you for your offer to guard me and the rest of the town. I’m sure we are in *pauses for a heartbeat* good hands. I’m err.. off to run an errand now. Thanks again! *He waves as he makes a hasty retreat for the other side of Center*
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Topic: Reward (Read 2217 times)
