[IC] The Red Hand of Doom in Eberron

[Saskia]

The sound seizes Roger's attention as well, before he can address any of Mina's all-too-familiar battery of questions. Oh my. I guess Wrex doesn't do subtle very well. The thought of murdering a prisoner is horrific, but he should have expected as much. The bad cop routine in hobgoblin society apparently has higher stakes than in Zilargo. He should have been more clear. At least we got a lot out of him, I guess.

[hoverfrog]

Mina looks at Wrex aghast, it is one thing to kill a person in combat but to take the life of a prisoner? That's the sort of behaviour she'd expect from Karrns or ... or hobgoblins. Of course Wrex was a hobgoblin. Perhaps this was normal for his people? She'd have to ask Roger, she knew about the workings of magic and the planes but her dealings with other races left a lot to be desired.

Instead of saying anything she slunk nervously back to the items they'd recovered. "Ioun stones, I think. Grey ones are burned out, aren't they? Not much value other than as curiosities." She set them all spinning around her one after the other until a cloud of a dozen grey stones surrounds her. If nothing else they look impressive.

She then examined each scroll, first looking for any kind of trap and then to try to determine what each one did.

OOC

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Take 20 on a Search check for +32 for traps on the scrolls. Then take 10 on Spellcraft for +23. I hope nobody is in a hurry as that's an hour for both scrolls. Time to check the potions maybe.

[Saskia]

Is she shaking? Mina must be more bothered by the execution than he is. He steps behind her and clasps her shoulders in his strong hands, slowly massaging her tension away and speaking gently in her ear. Their ways are not our ways, Mina. They have a brutal culture to fit their brutal living conditions. Being held as a prisoner is considered among of the worst things you can do to somebody in hobgoblin society; execution is a kindness.

She seemed to him to have always had a tendency to bury herself in her work in tough times rather than face her problems. Maybe that was part of what led to their parting. Still, touching her is maybe not the best move he could make, as he feels the shadowy hut brighten as his eyes dilate with old memories, but maybe subconsciously that's why he did it. Feeling responsible for her even now is probably unhealthy, but old habits can be very hard to suppress.

[hoverfrog]

Mina just wanted to forget about the murder of a prisoner and immerse herself in the mystery of the scrolls. Why did Roger not understand that? She shrugged him off and went back to examining them, "I need to look at these. They might be trapped or cursed."

It wasn't Roger's fault. The big hobgoblin frightened her. He was ruthless, as she suppose he had to be, but also he seemed indifferent to the damage he'd caused. Death was so final. Everything else could be worked with but when you took someone's life that was an end of them, they went to Dolurrh forever. In a fight that was necessary, it was you or your enemy. The hobgoblins would have killed them just as they'd killed the longbowmen and the father and daughter. It wasn't supposed to be easy though. For all her cockiness in the actual fighting she'd been aware of Pig ripping out the throat of one hobgoblin and tearing into the flesh of another. She'd built him to protect her and he did that job with mechanical precision.

She put aside these uncomfortable thoughts and tried to concentrate on the writings of the scrolls. What magics did were held in the mystical inks? This at least wasn't a moral quandary. It was simply artifice and Mina knew artifice and magic. "Could you see if the cart can be salvaged? It would be a kindness to take the bodies back to the town for a decent burial."

After finishing her examination an hour later she stretched and cracked the bones in her neck. That always made Roger wince but one she'd never broken the habit. Jora might be interested in the contents of the scrolls, she'd tell the halfling what she'd found first. Maybe she's finished with the potions already too.

[RaggedAngel]

Scrolls:

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Divine, Summon Monster III
Divine, Invisibility

[Saskia]

With a sigh of resignation Roger decides to follow Mina's suggestion. He's not much of an engineer to be sure, but he had met some really good ones in his time. Besides, all he had to do was make sure it wasn't going to fall apart, how hard could that be on a wagon?

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If he can take 10 or 20, then take 10 or 20. If not, (1d20+3)[8] (since I assume it would be an intelligence check).

If bardic knowledge is cool for this check, then (1d20+10)[13]

[King Tius]

Mina's discomfort does not go unnoticed, but the noble hobgoblin says nothing. Instead he sits down and begins to clean his spiked chain, pulling out a cloth and a small vial of oil to do so. Once the weapon is blood-free to his satisfaction, he starts dragging the bodies of the hobgoblins into a pile just off the road.

[Crinias]

Isaac cannot answer Mina regarding any particulars of the gnome or any possible manipulation, so concentrated is he on his own thoughts. So upon being startled out of his thoughts by Wrex's actions, he finds himself rightly embarrassed. He feels he should say something, but upon further consideration there's not much to say.

And he can't judge Wrex for doing what he did. It's his own life and culture, he had no place in it. There were worse fates to be had, and perhaps it could even be considered a mercy of sorts. For a warrior, capture after defeat must be dishonorable. Compared to the alternatives of torture or worse, death could even be a mercy.


Isaac makes himself useful afterwards, helping Roger set up the cart if it's in good condition and dragging the bodies alongside Wrex.

"Well then, let's move on," he says when they're finished.

[RaggedAngel]

OOC:

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The cart has been totally destroyed, and would require a Make Whole or several days of high Craft checks to repair. You do have an Artificer who could do the job, but it would still take days. Whatcha gonna do with the bodies?

[hoverfrog]

Mina puts her tools away and gathers up the collected equipment to stuff in her pack. She takes time to collect one of the hand motifs from the hobgoblin uniforms. Perhaps someone would be able to identify the tribe in the next town. "Sorry to keep you waiting. I'm ready when you are."

[RaggedAngel]

After covering the bodies of the murdered travelers and collecting the valuables that you were able to recover, the party sets off down the road. It is late in the afternoon, and there are still several hours of walking ahead of you before you approach Kennrun. Nothing else disturbs you along the way, and you take the time to learn a little more about each other, with the discussion tending towards combat. The day is hot and the tress block most of the wind, so the walk soon takes a turn for the exhausting and tedious.

The road descends into a small town built mostly on the near side of a broad, sluggish river. Six old stone piers jut from the water, marking the spot where a bridge once stood, but the span itself is long gone. Instead, a couple of long thick ropes cross the river, each secured to a flat-bottomed ferryboat. Brown fields and green orchards surround the town.

As you approach, you see movement from a small building a quartermile up the road from the edge of town. A group of armed townsfolk- three in leather, one in mail- seem to be standing guard, watching you warily as you approach. "Halt and state your business, strangers; especially the hobbo there." one of the guards says. They all seem to be human, and they are each a little disheveled and more than a little sweaty in the muggy afternoon heat; Roger and Mina can tell by scent that one or two of them desperate need a bath.

[hoverfrog]

Mina offers a weary smile to the guards, "Oh, thank the Sovereigns that we've arrived here safely. You cannot imagine the trouble we met on the road. I suppose we should report it to you? Which of you is in charge?"

[RaggedAngel]

The man that spoke first steps forward a bit; he's a big fellow with sweaty armpit stains on his tunic, sleeveless mail armor, and a slightly rusty halberd. "I'm in charge at this guard post, lady. And what was the trouble? Was it that hobbo you've got tagging along? Because if so, I'm impressed with your ability to train him that quickly." He says the last to his men, who share a laugh at Wrex's expense.

[Saskia]

Whoa, hey now. This isn't going in a direction anyone wants. Roger jovially nudges Wrex with his forearm, saying to the guard Is that how you treat all weary travelers who risk their necks to help you out? Without Wrex here you'd still have your road blocked by a dozen hobgoblins the size of horses; we couldn't have taken care of your highwayman problem without him.

[Crinias]

"Indeed," says Isaac, going along with Roger's words. "That last one's swords looked more like spears by the size of them. You're lucky we happened to come upon them before any more people did."

[RaggedAngel]

The captain of the guard juts his jaw forward belligerently, and he takes another step forward. His men notice, and their hands move from their pockets to the hilts of their swords. "Really, now, is that so? The size of horses, you say? Do you think we're stupid, just because we live out here in the country? I'm not sure I'm fond of your tone, on top of your choice of traveling buddies. Might be better if you folks went back the way you came."

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Isaac and Roger, give me a Sense Motive; you can roll in the OOC if you like.

[Crinias]

Oblivious to the man's tone, Isaac just answers him with a completely straight face: "Not at all, sir. My friend here is exaggerating. It was only one of them that was magically empowered and twice the size of his peers. A real danger he was, but he fell in the end." Isaac shakes his head with his eyes closed upon thinking of that huge goblin.

"We managed to question one of their men though, and it seems like they're only a small portion of their main force. I don't suppose you know anything of the matter?"

[RaggedAngel]

As far as Isaac and Roger can tell, the man is both willing and able to hold off the six of you. He narrows his eyes as Isaac goes on, and when the Binder finishes the guardsman spits into the dirt. "That's what I have to say to that rubbish story. How come we haven't heard nothing about any hobgoblin raiders in the area, then? Kennrun's the last military outpost of Breland, for your information, and we've got soldiers marching all around for drills and maneuvers and what have you."

He looks at Wrex for a moment, partially angry and partially disgusted. "Look here, you. I had more than a few friends killed by your lot in the Last War, and I take my job as a road guard serious, as do my men here. So how about this; you turn back and go pick up the evidence of this mugging by a twelve foot tall hobbo, and I'll see if your handlers here know how to properly speak to an appointed member of the town guard."

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If you don't want this to escalate, I'm going to need to see some skill rolls. Isaac is on the right track, but I need numbers to back his words up. This can be a combat encounter if it has to be, and I'd be happy to oblige if you want to beat the **** out of some racists.

[King Tius]

OOC: I am going to assume that Wrex is healed (or mostly healed up) by one of his generous party members as they walk. He was pretty close to dead, after all.

Wrex looks at the four men before him and listens with an impassive face as they attempt to mock and deride him. Finally, when the captain addresses him directly, Wrex throws his head back and lets out an obnoxiously loud and condescending laugh. As he brings his head back down, he locks eyes with the man, his eyes practically sparkling with a strange intensity.

"Do you see the blood on my armor? I have danced in the glory of battle this day and cleansed my brothers of their shame. After facing such warriors, the bleating of these sheep is like a music to my ears. Come, friends, these lambs can't tell the wolves from the dogs." He moves to shove past them, paying them no more mind than he would a stray tree branch...

Intimidate roll: (1d20+9)[16]

[hoverfrog]

OOC

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Roger used up four charges from my Wand of Cure Light Wounds. I'm pretty sure that they were used on Wrex though you'd have to read back up thread for the details...Post #61

Diplomacy check (1d20+5)[9] though I'd like to use this to Aid Another for when Roger makes his roll at +18... or not. I guess that Mina's presumption of authority just rubs the guard up the wrong way.

Unconsciously she manipulates the wind around her to clear the air of the man's stink. "I am Lady Wilhelmina Lovain of House Lyrandar, you may address me as Lady d'Lyrandar. What's your name, Sergeant...?" Mina has dealt with just this sort of belligerent official far too often, in her experience they live in fear of being reported to their superiors either for wrong doing or laziness. That led to severe overcompensation when it came to their duties. "I understand that our report may seem exaggerated but it is the simple truth. We can give you directions to the battlefield if you wish. In fact it is important that we do so because the remains of their victims are there. People were killed by the bandits before we arrived and dealt with them. Some archers and a family by the look of things."

"Actually, I do have some evidence with me that supports our report," she always felt it was important to use official language with officials to put them at ease, "report" rather than "story" and official titles. "This is the symbol worn by the attackers." She reaches into her pack. The magic of the haversack, a Cannith invention originally but copied by every mage and artificer in the Five Nations, ensures that the scrap of cloth with the hand symbol is the first thing she finds. "I'm sure that with your local knowledge you'll be able to assist us in identifying this tribe."

Turn the tables on officials, make them serve you by taking charge, that was the advice her mother had given her so many years ago.

[Saskia]

This is just silly. Against his better judgment Roger steps aside when Mina starts talking. First Wrex, confirming the man's (probably quite justified) racial bias, then Mina, confirming to him that their group felt superior to the small-town folk? One can only smooth over so much before begins to look like desperation borne from keeping bad company, and Roger isn't about to confirm the poor sod's third assumption. Obviously the others had their own ideas on how to handle this, and even if they (or at least Mina and Wrex) were not doing a particularly fine job, it would be helpful to observe how they handle things for future reference. It always rubs Roger the wrong way when people use the wrong tool for the job anyway, and Roger quite well qualifies as the right tool for this job.

Besides, there was nothing in Roger's tone to suggest any hostility or arrogance, so if this escalates then the guard quite well brought it on himself.

[RaggedAngel]

The overweight guardsman seems untrusting of Mina's friendly demeanor, but he is also apparently the kind of man that can't stay angry when confronted with an attractive woman. His eyes wander more than a little, but he answers when she asks his name, and when she presents the bloody hand. "I'm Bart, and it's just 'Guardsman Bart', but I'm not really a title kind of guy. And I don't really know about that hand thing, but, uh..."

Bart takes a moment to visually inspect the group a little more closely. He notes the faintly glowing weapons most of you are carrying openly, the constructs around Mina, and Wrex's musculature. He then looks back at his men, and it's clear on most of their faces that they would really rather avoid a confrontation. Bart frowns, and then turns back to Mina, an uncomfortable look on his face. "Look, ma'am, I'm not exactly overjoyed about a heavily armed group of strangers with an unbound goblin just waltzing into town, but I'm beginning to think that I'm not getting paid enough to deal with you people. Cooper and Clark will escort the lot of you to the head of the guard, alright? Just don't make me regret this."

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I just want someone to say something to Bart and then I'll take you into town.

As a note, you all get 100xp for resolving this without a fight. Great roleplaying!

[hoverfrog]

The air stills for a moment around her as her temper rises. Feeling slightly insulted by the guard Mina bristles but remembers her training aboard the Lightning's Kiss. Smile when they insult you, she always said. Mina puts on her best smile and raises an eyebrow questioningly at the guard, "Guardsman Bart, am I to understand that we are prisoners? A group of weary travellers walk into your town with news of a deadly threat. One that we have dealt with, I might add. Instead of paying heed to our news you imply that we're a danger to you. Wrex there personally slew, what was it, three, four? Four hobgoblins."

"I think that we had better see this head of the guard as you suggest. We'll have things to say, mark my words. Cooper, is it? Lead on. Clark, you may carry my crossbow and buckler. They're heavy and I won't need them here, will I?" With a haughty shake of her hair she marches off towards the centre of town forcing the two guards to catch up and give them directions.

[Saskia]

Roger watches, barely bothering to mask his distaste. Getting angry when people give you what you want. That he finds that assumption of authority attractive while still finding it obnoxious has never entirely made sense, but if he hasn't figured it out by now then he probably won't. She certainly is nobility.

[Crinias]

Isaac watches Mina go ahead, and feels a bit of pity for the poor guards. As their group head towards the town, he walks alongside Cooper and Clark, and attempts to strike up a harmless conversation to reassure them and get on their good side. He shows off his best smile and acts the everyman that he is, so as to not alienate them.

"...I can't stand this heat. Some weather, huh? I can't imagine what it must be like to live here all year long..."

Along such meaningless subjects does he steer the conversation, starting off with small talk and then moving along to anecdotes and stories (fabricated or otherwise), then moving on to more local interests such as any particular places or people of importance, legends and general gossip.

And on we go.

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Let no opportunity go to waste, I say.
Diplomacy to get along well with the guards - (1d20+12)[15]

[RaggedAngel]

The guards don't have any idea how to handle Mina, and they do their best to both ignore her and not make her any angrier. They may not be peak examples of human intellect, but any fool can see an artificer if they aren't trying to disguise their profession, and not even a fool is inclined to cross one.

The walk into town takes about fifteen minutes, during which the guards slowly warm to Isaac, if no one else. Isaac has an air of comfortable authority and power that the men have learned to respect, and his politeness makes up for Mina's haughtiness, at least to a degree. They may not take an arrow for any of you, but nor would they be the ones to fire the shot.

The guardsmen lead you to a large structure in town on the banks of the river that runs through it. The river does not exactly bisect the town; the majority of the buildings and the populace are on the side closer to you and further from the not-so distant mountains. As for the mountains, there is still a large section of forest between you and them; but even now, you can imagine how quickly an army might be able to surge down from the mountains and spill out into the Brelandish countryside.

Once you arrive at the town hall, the guards takes you into the nominal council chambers. When you enter, two councilmen are present; a tall and balding man of about fifty, dressed richly, and a tough swordswoman in her late twenties. 'Your' guardsmen explain the situation as best they can, and are dismissed by the swordswoman.

The two look at each other briefly, and then the man addresses you with a cultured voice. "Sorry to trouble you, travelers, but we'd like a few minutes of your time. My name is Norro Winston, and I'm the Town Speaker for Kennrun. This is our guard captain, and currently the highest ranking military officer in town, Soranna. I'll get to the point so as to not waste your time: we're in a lot of trouble, and I was hoping I could persuade you to help us out."

He pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts, before continuing. "Our town is under attack. Hobgoblin raiders have been harrying our lands for several days now, as you've seen. We've tried to keep it quiet, to prevent panic, but it's clear now that path is not a productive one. They've been attacking travelers on the roads and waylaying travelers both to town and those traveling along the Dawn Way to do trade with the hobgoblins on the other side of the mountains; and no matter what anyone tells you, the hobgoblin nations on the other side of the mountains are by and large friendly. Frankly, we do better trade with them than with Starilaskur on the other side of the Vale."

Captain Soranna cuts in when Norro begins to get sidetracked. "We've had trouble with them before- a quick raid on homesteads on the east side of the river, usually not that bad- but this is different. It looks like a large, aggressive tribe unaffiliated with the greater hobgoblin nation has moved down out of the Seawall mountains. Frankly, I think they may be numerous enough to sack the town, and perhaps enough to press forward across the Vale. There aren't nearly enough to be a threat to Breland as a whole, but that fact wouldn't save the people living here."

"Beyond that," Speaker Norro continues, "The trade that we get from both the east and west keeps this town alive. It may be a military outpost, but the government has been scaling back operations seriously since the end of the War, and there has been talk that Kennrun is untenable as a purely military installation. That is true, in part, but if we can't do trade then the town will crumple and all these people will be homeless; admittedly, myself included. We need to repel these invaders, and do it quickly enough to keep the roads open. Can you help us do it?"

[Saskia]

Roger quickly scans the inside of the building before looking directly at the woman and the man, and then the woman again. He stands tall but at ease, even as he wipes the sweat from the summer heat from his brow with a handkerchief, and he offers his hand in greeting to the captain with a confident smile. I can say confidently that solving problems is our business, and already one road is six hostiles safer than before. He softens his voice, and adds My companions and I took the liberty of covering the bodies of their victims with stones to protect them from the disgrace of scavenging animals. We didn't have time or equipment to dig proper graves for them, but if you've got folk and a wagon to spare collecting the bodies for proper burial I'm sure they would rest easier for it. Never a comfortable thing, to have to ask somebody to collect bodies. Given what the prisoner said before his death though, they may believe that the Vale is Breland. They might be clever tacticians, but the ignorance of this tribe might well convince them to invade. That they would be destroyed is obvious, but the cost would be great, and many more graves would need digging. As I said, it's our business to help to protect lives, and at least for my part, it's an honor that you to ask. He narrows his eyes toward Captain Soranna. Do you have something specific in mind, Captain?

[hoverfrog]

Wilhelmina d'Lyrandar

Mina strides forward, a faint scent of rose water and lavender suffusing the air around her. She smiles broadly as she takes Norro's hand in her own. "I'm so pleased to meet you, Speaker Winston, may I call you Norro? My name is Wilhelmina d'Lyrandar."

"This is Roger and Isaac, Jora and Wrex," she offers a nod to Soranna, "Captain. Before my Mark manifested I served in the Brelish navy so I am well acquainted with military protocols though I am still regarded as a neutral observer in times of conflict."

"I am here to investigate expansion of trade with Kennrun on behalf of House Lyrandar. Your assessment matches exactly our own regarding the position of your town. It is ideally situated to extend trade between Breland and Darguun. Sterngate in the south is already expanding considerably and trade through the Marguul pass is opening up many opportunities for the people there yet the northern territories of Darguun are largely unexploited. Kennrun has the potential to become a hub of trade between the hobgoblins to the south and east, Thrane in the north and Breland in the centre."

Her sales pitch continues with hardly a pause for breath, "This local problem seems most disruptive to trade. House Lyrandar would be willing to assist in dealing with any circumstances that limit free enterprise in exchange for favourable terms after the matter has been resolved. Our efforts won't be in vain if Kennrun survives to become the trading centre that we hope it will." To Mina's mind this is simply a statement of fact. If Lyrandar doesn't help, that means if she doesn't help, then Kennrun will become a defenceless ghost town in a few years, easily overrun by hobgoblin forces. The Town Speaker has a choice to mortgage the town's future to House Lyrandar or let it fail.

She considers possible solutions for a moment before continuing, "It seems evident that calling in Argonth or a large military force would be excessive. How many hobgoblin warriors are in this red hand tribe anyway? A few hundred? A thousand? Could Lhesh Haruuc or hos government be prevailed upon through diplomatic channels to deal with a menace to peace himself? Could the leadership of the red hand, what is the name of their tribe by the way? Could the leadership be dealt with so that the clan members cease their hostile activities? Are your trading partners able to exert any pressure on the red hand at all from their side?"

[RaggedAngel]

Captain Soranna seems pleased by Mina's questions, and she leads the group over to a table covered with a large map of the region. "Part of this issue with the tribe is our continual inability to capture and interrogate members of their raiding parties; the parties almost always include a blademaster and a priest, which provide them with a lot of power against common soldiers. I've killed a few blademasters myself, and when they have a priest to heal and enchant them they're damned hard to keep down."

"As for the name, we've just been calling them the Red Hand. They have that bloody symbol emblazoned on everything, so it's the simplest thing to name them. Even if we knew their correct Goblin name, we'd probably still call them the Red Hand for clarity and simplicity."

Winston cuts in, gesturing to the map. "Part of the ticklish issue here is that we, meaning the town council, has been working hard to prove to the Brelish parliament that our town is worth the investment of infrastructure that would be necessary were we to become a greater hub of trade, as milady Lyrandar suggested. So if we go running to them for help right now, it would cause great harm to our negotiations. If we need to call in greater military aid, we can, but it is a last resort. If we have proof of a horde large enough to threaten Starilaskur, for example, we would be entirely justified to call in help. But right now, we've only seen raiding parties, and the only thing worse than calling in military aid would be to call in unnecessary aid."

Soranna nods, and then takes back up the reins of the conversation. "Exactly. What we really need from you all right now is to set out to the area that we've determined is their 'base of operations' on this side of the mountains and see what kind of threat we're dealing with. If this is just a rag-tag band of religious fanatics with a few dozen blademasters and priests, then we can destroy them with mere attrition and a few groups of specialists such as yourselves. But if the threat is larger and more dire, we'll need some kind of proof to send back to the government. The king is a warrior, but this isn't a pure monarchy anymore, and he's not the only person we'd need to convince of our need."

[Saskia]

Maybe he should have spent more time studying military etiquette and strategy. The broad strokes are easy enough, but intuitive understanding of the intersection between military and politics is wholly different beast. An impressive beast, and regardless of what his friends in Zilargo might say, it's quite an oddly attractive trait. But then, that might simply be due to its intellectual rather than brutish nature.

Listening to the Captain, a thought hits him. He might not understand the military, but politics is simple; just the psychology of the rich and powerful. Let it be so simple. As he says this he raps his knuckle twice on the wood of the table, just for good measure. A little silly superstition here and there never hurt anyone. Obviously I haven't been here to see the sorts of forces they've thrown at you, but I'm not sure if your confidence that an incursion could be repelled is well placed. It could very well be a culmination of the millennia-old desire to rebuild the old Dhakaani Empire. That could give Haruuc the legitimacy he needs to establish a dynasty. They can't be doing this without his knowledge and consent, and if he's actively supporting them this could get a lot uglier than just sacking the Vale. He looks at Wrex to add I've studied hobgoblin history and culture, but I'm not really up on current events and you're our resident expert anyway. Do you know if there's been an increase in that sentiment or somebody ginning up the people for war?