Myrla shakes her head stupefied, "You actually want to present yourself to that so called Lord? I mean, we just disposed some of his lackeys. While the Lord himself may or may not know how they go about executing his orders, the choice of his guards does shine a somber light on his character, I would say the least. What's the plan we go to the lord and tell him they planned to rob us? Might be he falls off his chair laughing before he throws us in chains for disobeying his orders. I'd rather avoid places that appear to be outright hostile. Heck, might be he's a hobgoblin, too? Who knows?" Myrla tries to recall what she might have heard about the name during her time with the knights (History: 19)

Quote from acoolnamehere >>

Hmm ser Reynfred.. he repeats as he looks to Ulrich to see his reaction to the name. 

He looks to the others Perhaps this one is right. Taking them with us might not grant us favor with this.. lord. 

We could take their horses and weapons and leave them here, i trust they have learned a valuable lesson this day. 

Not sure if this is a known name or not, but in case a history check is needed 1 (wow yet another nat1, thats way to many in a row)

Also i dont know if we can take their horses/weapons but perhaps as roleplay and not actually add mechanically. 

 This is to both @acoolnamehere and @Uhtred

Its to everybody: Last time you was here the lord was Mendis Vakon.

I'd be fine if you wanted to take their weapons and horses but they'd be of a much lower quality than your weapons now.

“Perhaps we go to the outskirts of Solace, good sers.” Sturma pauses, considering her next words. Is she being too bold? 

“The townsfolk and Lord will be far more interested in bold knights than a humble maid of all work. I slip to a market, or inn. I ask the lowly folk who this new Lord is. I come straight back. Short minutes of absence only.”

Brock would begin stripping the men of their armor and weapons after they are secured. "Whatever you say Sturma." He would reply as he collects the items and places them on the back of one of the horses. "We can all go close to the city.. and then if everything looks normal from the outside we can send you in I suppose to scout it out. If the whole place looks like a goblin fortress once we get closer then I think we bury these guys and pretend we never saw them." 

Ulrich stands with Zorn hanging limp in one hand and the other scratching his head as he ponders. 

"Hmmm," he rumbles, "I can see the sense in it, I suppose. Nothing to be lost by a bit of caution. Have a care, though, Brock. The gods do not smile on those who do murder in cold blood. These brigands may not deserve much but a slit throat and a shallow grave is not the way."

He turns to Sturma. "You speak well, girl. Your talents are needed here, I feel. Go, seek information. We will meet you outside the walls. We will keep these," he indicates the captives, "secure until then."

“I live to serve,” says Sturma, easily. “In truth, Ser Ulrich, I say this only to spare you the indignity of making introductions of your noble dignity to this Lord of Solace, without knowing much of his station, lands or background.”

”The fame of your family travels before you. I would not have your family seem ignorant, nor impolite. Though there are many Lords below the station of your noble family, it is very easy to feel slighted, and even if these privateers were acting beyond their licence it is the case that your introduction and their villainous reception may prove diplomatically awkward if you walk in openly as you might naturally and properly expect to do.”

”I would not have you invite censure by being kind to one who your family would say deserves justice, or bring reproach to one who your family would say should know comfort for dishonest servants.”

Sturma bows her head low. “A dishonest servant is the greatest injury. I know subterfuge of the type I suggest may sit uneasily, but it is a servants purpose and entire education, to consider the low acts and talk that may injure a noble family’s distinction, without injuring it themselves by debasing that family to undertake servile tasks themselves.”

This may be the most that Sturma has even spoken to the Knight. It seems likely that the shy and naive girl she intended to present as is dead in the water. It’s fine. Devotion is a workable alternative. Right now, it’s better that they don’t walk into another ambush. 

(edit: I must have started writing this just before Ulrich’s response. I guess we can pretend Sturma said it just before his respond above which makes a lot of sense.) 

With Ulrich’s permission, Sturma wraps her cloak about her tightly, and pulls her hat down low. She heads into Solace alone. 

While not letting on her feelings, Myrla thought much the same as Brock. It would be much better to rid themselves of the liability that are these goblins. Just when she wanted to share her sentiment, Ulrich spoke up and made it clear that they wouldn't harm their captives. She shrugs towards Brock and double checks the restraints of the captives. "Good luck, Sturma," she says to the girl and watches her heading into the city.

Tandri patiently waits and waives goodbye to Sturma and inwardly wishes her luck. 

"Alright... we let them live. but if that decision comes back to bite us in the end.. You owe me a drink." Brock would grumble.

Quote from NycrolB >>

 

 

With Ulrich’s permission, Sturma wraps her cloak about her tightly, and pulls her hat down low. She heads into Solace alone. 

As she heads into Solace she only encounters two travellers on the road that look a bit worse for wear. Possible that the goblins got to them. Before long she arrives at the town, through the leaves she can see that all the houses and buildings apart from the forge and the stables are in the tree’s canopy. In the town square colourful stalls are set up and traders hawk their wares. Nobody seems to be paying any attention to her.

Sturma heads to the market. Her guise is simple and mostly true. The servant of a visiting man of means, she comes to acquire some rations and seasonings and trinkets for the next leg of their journey. 

She tries to talk to older men first, unless their wives are in the stalls with them. Old men are gossips. Middle aged women are often thornier, when it’s Sturma asking the question. 

Sturma talks far more like herself now, as she approaches the first friendly looking vendor. 

“How’way mate, what’s occurring? Some fine work you’ve got on show here.”

The vendor is an oldish man with a short beard and greying hair who is selling some ornate daggers. He turns and smiles “Why thank you kind lady.” He bows, “Not much happening although I suppose I should be happy that it’s trading season. Frankly I haven’t been too pleased lately. Enough about me though I haven’t seen you around, are you travelling?”

Sturma curtsies in return. "Serving and travelling. Never been so far from home. I didn't know that a place where folk made houses in the trees even existed. It's beautiful!"

She flutters her eyelashes briefly, then turns her head away and looks at the ornate daggers on show, appraisingly. "These are well made. What are they made from?" 

She bends forward and peers at one. "My master is a scion of the noble house, and means to make nice with Solace's Lord, so we'll see how that goes. A traveller on the road said we even had the wrong name, so I don't fancy my master's chances." Sturma laughs as she says that. "It is what it is." 

Picking up a long-knife with an elegant handle for a moment, before placing it down, Sturma meets the vendor's eyes again. "You seem a knowledgable man, and I see how the others in the market look to you. You must be a important man around Solace. Is the lord here one who has much to do with his people? Would he appreciate a fine gift like your knives? What should my master expect while we rest in this beautiful town, as the junior son of a minor house -- success?"

Sturma's smile drops, her eyebrows frown, her voice becomes quiet. The look is one of acute anxiety, and heart-breaking vulnerability. Practiced and earned over many long years of similar charades. "--or failure? Should I prepare myself for my master's anger and long weeks of hard ... circumstances?" 

Sturma keeps a small pouch of powder make-up and a brush nearby, ready to glamour herself, if her read on this grandfatherly man is off. Her left hand fiddles with a loose thread on the market tables' covering, while she waits to see the vendor's response. 

He frowns as you talk about seeing the lord, “I’m afraid you’ve picked a rather bad time to come here, the old lord is gone, replaced by a fool obsessed with his own importance. Now I don’t know much but I know no reasonable lord would keep goblins as company. If your master wishes to rest here he should expect nothing good.”

Sturma gasps, and holds her hand to her mouth. "Goblins," she says. She seems to collect herself after a moment. 

"Forgive me. Goblins... I come from a baliwick with a great presence of Knights of Solamnia. I have never heard but ill of goblins. How can... How can this lord keep goblins in his council? How did the old lord come to be gone?" 

“The old lord was found in his bed, poisoned wine beside him. I’m not saying that the new lord killed him but it’s a possibility. As to why he keeps goblins only god can tell you.”

While this is happening have you all decided on what you’ll do with the goblins.

Brock is just glaring at them. He knows that they know too much and that since they already killed 2... they are already in trouble with the lord. they could just pretend it never happened with a quick snap of their necks...

Tandri mulls over the fate of the goblins. "I am new to the worldly ways of people, but I rather not kill them. I say let them go without their gear. I know it may come back to bite us, but there is difference in defending ourselves and just executing them." 

Hrothgar nods at Tandri's words.

Indeed, this one now knows that if our paths may cross again he will not be shown the same favor. He looks to the hobgoblin who had been pleading for his life.

Assuming they have been stripped of thing weapons and are now on foot. Go now, you will not return to this land if you value your lives.

Hrothgar then moves back to the others. 

Lets us hope Sturma will be able to gather some information for us