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Vs. the Slavers
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<blockquote data-quote="the_bruiser" data-source="post: 426795" data-attributes="member: 6126"><p><strong>SESSION II</strong></p><p></p><p>SESSION II</p><p></p><p>DM NOTE: This was a fairly short session. Daniel's player (the bard) will be unable to join us for many of our sessions, so I expect that in a fair number of these recaps Daniel will be “back watching the fire.” Due to some pretty bad scheduling conflicts, several of our planned Wednesday sessions were skipped. Side note – would anyone be interested in the stats on these characters? If so, I could post the basics in a follow-up. </p><p></p><p></p><p>After regrouping a few hundred yards from the camp, the party discusses its options. Wounded and weary, the group is uncertain whether to press the attack again that night or to rest – while time is of the essence, the party believes it has the edge in Tritherion’s healing via his cleric Xander. Still, any delay grates on Xander. </p><p></p><p>Kit brings up an interesting point. “Guys, what if we kill most of them? Wouldn’t that be really bad? I mean, if we killed all but a couple of the guards but had to run, what then? Wouldn’t they just kill a bunch of the slaves to cut their losses, put the rest on the horses, and outrun us?” Xander and Nasty share a glance of surprise at these words – they have found Kit’s ability to put himself in the minds of the enemy and imagine such terrible acts both useful and disturbing. Coming from the mouth of a 15-year-old boy, however, gives the words a sharper edge.</p><p></p><p>“He might be right, Xander.” Nasty doesn’t like this much planning, and wishes the other two would just come to a decision. “We might should wait, heal up, hit ‘em again tomorrow. They won’t get away. If it comes down to it, we’ll skip a meal or two, not worry about foraging tomorrow, we could even get ahead of ‘em that way. But you know me, I’ll do what you say. Long as it ends with a fight.” </p><p></p><p>“Fellows, Tritherion’s will within me says we should strike again tonight. I shall channel what powers I am given into your wounds. As long as I am able I cannot abide their presence this close to me. The wails of the women are a scratching on my soul. We go now.”</p><p></p><p>By now it has been established that Kit is capable of far more stealth than Nasty and Xander, so he leaves their small camp first. The others count to 100, then do their best to follow quietly. Shortly after Kit has positioned himself with his light crossbow and the party’s six remaining bolts, he hears a loud snap from the darkness behind him – one of his companions has stepped on a fallen limb. As the guards whip around, Kit rises from the swaying grass, now visible in the torches ringing the wagons, and kills one with a bolt through the throat. Knowing that their noise will have alerted the camp, Xander runs at full tilt into the clearing but is immediately surrounded by waiting guards. Several of the guards pierce his defenses and within seconds he is near death. Swooning, he shoulds “Run!” hoping his companions can save themselves. </p><p></p><p>Nasty misunderstands, assuming the command is a call to action. Charging into camp, he dispatches one guard immediately. As the hacking guards turn to him, Xander manages to back away from the mass of slavers. Meanwhile, the leader of the guards has mounted his horse and is hunting Kit through the high grass at the edge of the torchlight. Kit continues to pop up and fire bolts at the guards while hiding from the Rider. Nasty, surrounded by four guards and wearing no armor, is bleeding profusely within seconds. Still he fights on to buy time for his friends. Nasty takes a terrible beating but manages to remain standing. Seeing his henchmen reduced to two, the Rider gives up on his search for the crossbowman and return to dispatch Nasty. </p><p></p><p>Six seconds later, the sides are at an impasse. Nasty lies unconscious beside the four guards who surrounded him, Xander has staggered away, barely standing, and Kit has one bolt remaining for his crossbow. Among the slavers, only the Rider remains conscious. The Rider shouts into the night, unable to see Kit and Xander, “You two cannot take me; I have seen your wounds and I am stronger than you. But I cannot revive my comrades while I know you are out there. I seek a compromise.”</p><p></p><p>“Why should we believe you?” Kit shouts back. “You’d just chain us up again if you could!” </p><p></p><p>The Rider considers, then says, “I give you your friend. You give me your bond not to attack again tonight so I can see to my men. Their lifeblood flees at my feet as we talk. Decide!”</p><p></p><p>Xander is torn, but knows the urgency. Finally, he responds, “Give us the slaves and we shall go! You and your men can live!”</p><p></p><p>“Never! It would be my death. Pick a wagon. You have those slaves for your own. The wagons and other slaves remain with me. And you do not attack us again for a week!” </p><p></p><p>Knowing their friend may be dying, Xander and Kit agree. The Rider backs up and allows them to drag Nasty away. Bowing more to gestures and sentiment than to convenience, they select the wagon full of women and children to be their booty. As they leave they find a present – a fallen guard whose body is out of the range of torchlight. They manage to remove his leather jerkin, dagger, and club. They also find a small pouch 20 silver pieces – increasing the party’s total wealth to 20 silver pieces.</p><p></p><p>Xander looks around. “Which one of you is Kara?” Blank stares. “Come on. Kara?” A girl steps forward. “You’re in charge of the women. Keep them together and keep them moving. We’re taking you home to your Uncle Jonah. We met him coming through Mudsdale after you guys.” He looks around at all the women and children, perhaps as many as 15 altogether. “I’m sure they’ll take you on there, get you some food.” </p><p></p><p>As the party walks slowly back to Mudsdale, taking long periods for the foraging necessary to fill their bellies, the group gets a better idea of what happened back in Mudsdale. Kara reveals that her Uncle Jonah actually sold her to the slavers willingly the night they came through. </p><p></p><p>The party now becomes concerned, Kit in particular. “What about Jonny? We left him there with Jonah! What if he’s sold him off, too?” </p><p></p><p>“Listen, Kit, we’re going as fast as we can. We’ll figure out what happened.” Xander pauses, reflecting. “It sounds like Jonah didn’t have a lot of choice when he sold Kara – he was probably afraid they would take her anyway. None of us would make the same decision here today, but what if you had a village to protect, and no strong arms? Tritherion says that we must teach the people. We have to tell them right from wrong, and train them to defend their sense of honor. Individuals can find redemption in strength, both physical and moral. Of course, he might just be a bad guy. He might have fooled us. We’ll find out. What he’s done with Jonny, that’ll be the test.”</p><p></p><p>Nasty speaks up. “And what if Little Jonny’s gone? If he’s been ‘taken’ like Kara was?” </p><p></p><p>“Then he’s betrayed our trust. And the gods help him and anybody else that tries to get between us.”</p><p></p><p>Nasty and Kit exchange a glance. “Damn right.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="the_bruiser, post: 426795, member: 6126"] [b]SESSION II[/b] SESSION II DM NOTE: This was a fairly short session. Daniel's player (the bard) will be unable to join us for many of our sessions, so I expect that in a fair number of these recaps Daniel will be “back watching the fire.” Due to some pretty bad scheduling conflicts, several of our planned Wednesday sessions were skipped. Side note – would anyone be interested in the stats on these characters? If so, I could post the basics in a follow-up. After regrouping a few hundred yards from the camp, the party discusses its options. Wounded and weary, the group is uncertain whether to press the attack again that night or to rest – while time is of the essence, the party believes it has the edge in Tritherion’s healing via his cleric Xander. Still, any delay grates on Xander. Kit brings up an interesting point. “Guys, what if we kill most of them? Wouldn’t that be really bad? I mean, if we killed all but a couple of the guards but had to run, what then? Wouldn’t they just kill a bunch of the slaves to cut their losses, put the rest on the horses, and outrun us?” Xander and Nasty share a glance of surprise at these words – they have found Kit’s ability to put himself in the minds of the enemy and imagine such terrible acts both useful and disturbing. Coming from the mouth of a 15-year-old boy, however, gives the words a sharper edge. “He might be right, Xander.” Nasty doesn’t like this much planning, and wishes the other two would just come to a decision. “We might should wait, heal up, hit ‘em again tomorrow. They won’t get away. If it comes down to it, we’ll skip a meal or two, not worry about foraging tomorrow, we could even get ahead of ‘em that way. But you know me, I’ll do what you say. Long as it ends with a fight.” “Fellows, Tritherion’s will within me says we should strike again tonight. I shall channel what powers I am given into your wounds. As long as I am able I cannot abide their presence this close to me. The wails of the women are a scratching on my soul. We go now.” By now it has been established that Kit is capable of far more stealth than Nasty and Xander, so he leaves their small camp first. The others count to 100, then do their best to follow quietly. Shortly after Kit has positioned himself with his light crossbow and the party’s six remaining bolts, he hears a loud snap from the darkness behind him – one of his companions has stepped on a fallen limb. As the guards whip around, Kit rises from the swaying grass, now visible in the torches ringing the wagons, and kills one with a bolt through the throat. Knowing that their noise will have alerted the camp, Xander runs at full tilt into the clearing but is immediately surrounded by waiting guards. Several of the guards pierce his defenses and within seconds he is near death. Swooning, he shoulds “Run!” hoping his companions can save themselves. Nasty misunderstands, assuming the command is a call to action. Charging into camp, he dispatches one guard immediately. As the hacking guards turn to him, Xander manages to back away from the mass of slavers. Meanwhile, the leader of the guards has mounted his horse and is hunting Kit through the high grass at the edge of the torchlight. Kit continues to pop up and fire bolts at the guards while hiding from the Rider. Nasty, surrounded by four guards and wearing no armor, is bleeding profusely within seconds. Still he fights on to buy time for his friends. Nasty takes a terrible beating but manages to remain standing. Seeing his henchmen reduced to two, the Rider gives up on his search for the crossbowman and return to dispatch Nasty. Six seconds later, the sides are at an impasse. Nasty lies unconscious beside the four guards who surrounded him, Xander has staggered away, barely standing, and Kit has one bolt remaining for his crossbow. Among the slavers, only the Rider remains conscious. The Rider shouts into the night, unable to see Kit and Xander, “You two cannot take me; I have seen your wounds and I am stronger than you. But I cannot revive my comrades while I know you are out there. I seek a compromise.” “Why should we believe you?” Kit shouts back. “You’d just chain us up again if you could!” The Rider considers, then says, “I give you your friend. You give me your bond not to attack again tonight so I can see to my men. Their lifeblood flees at my feet as we talk. Decide!” Xander is torn, but knows the urgency. Finally, he responds, “Give us the slaves and we shall go! You and your men can live!” “Never! It would be my death. Pick a wagon. You have those slaves for your own. The wagons and other slaves remain with me. And you do not attack us again for a week!” Knowing their friend may be dying, Xander and Kit agree. The Rider backs up and allows them to drag Nasty away. Bowing more to gestures and sentiment than to convenience, they select the wagon full of women and children to be their booty. As they leave they find a present – a fallen guard whose body is out of the range of torchlight. They manage to remove his leather jerkin, dagger, and club. They also find a small pouch 20 silver pieces – increasing the party’s total wealth to 20 silver pieces. Xander looks around. “Which one of you is Kara?” Blank stares. “Come on. Kara?” A girl steps forward. “You’re in charge of the women. Keep them together and keep them moving. We’re taking you home to your Uncle Jonah. We met him coming through Mudsdale after you guys.” He looks around at all the women and children, perhaps as many as 15 altogether. “I’m sure they’ll take you on there, get you some food.” As the party walks slowly back to Mudsdale, taking long periods for the foraging necessary to fill their bellies, the group gets a better idea of what happened back in Mudsdale. Kara reveals that her Uncle Jonah actually sold her to the slavers willingly the night they came through. The party now becomes concerned, Kit in particular. “What about Jonny? We left him there with Jonah! What if he’s sold him off, too?” “Listen, Kit, we’re going as fast as we can. We’ll figure out what happened.” Xander pauses, reflecting. “It sounds like Jonah didn’t have a lot of choice when he sold Kara – he was probably afraid they would take her anyway. None of us would make the same decision here today, but what if you had a village to protect, and no strong arms? Tritherion says that we must teach the people. We have to tell them right from wrong, and train them to defend their sense of honor. Individuals can find redemption in strength, both physical and moral. Of course, he might just be a bad guy. He might have fooled us. We’ll find out. What he’s done with Jonny, that’ll be the test.” Nasty speaks up. “And what if Little Jonny’s gone? If he’s been ‘taken’ like Kara was?” “Then he’s betrayed our trust. And the gods help him and anybody else that tries to get between us.” Nasty and Kit exchange a glance. “Damn right.” [/QUOTE]
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