'Tace' is taken aback by the ease with which the shortsword pierces the bandits heart. He is so distracted that the dagger throw he planned went well and truly wrong, almost hitting the Sergeant. When did my flight reflex turn to fight anyway.
Over the now prone form of the bandit he killed he sees the Sergeant take the front foot against one of the other bandits, and in a whirling dance of steel drops the man with ease. Him I expect it from, but I killed a man, and it was so...easy.
And then the Lieutenant's strong authoritative voice cuts through his introspection and he begins to move, sheathing his short sword and reaching down to pick up the crossbow the dead bandit so recently clutched. He quickly loads it and trains it on the now fleeing bandits, moving to the one sneaking towards the tents as his foot crunches on some leaves or twigs.
And then it is over, and he is left to look down upon the man he killed. But surely it is not the first man Tace Peite killed. Tace was the last person he had witnessed die, but that had been an accident, not of his doing. I can't focus on this right now.
He takes a deep breath even as the Sergeant races for the tent. Yes, a captive, someone who might have answers. A distraction.
He wanders across to look down on the form of the bandit slowly bleeding out, waiting to see if the Sergeant can indeed save him. Blood drips down his own arm from the crossbow bolt that tagged him, but he is too numb to notice. He doesn't even trust his voice not to betray him right now, and so he remains quiet.
In response to calling her, the Commandant sounds a grunt from inside her tent before popping out of it. She still looks half asleep, and not in any way pleased with her already short sleep interrupted. "I'm still alive, now let me sleep." She then notices the body at her feet and the others around. "And clean this mess up before dawn." Unless anyone stops her, she'll more or less fall back into her small tent, and almost surely, back into her sleep within moments.
Lieutenant Tireur places his firearm back in his belt while watching Arren hurrying to get the medical kit. He looks in "Tace's" direction briefly while Arren is in the tent, but if he notices anything that's going on with Bryn, he doesn't react to it. Instead, he sits down to assist Arren as much as he can with one arm.
Arren is currently focused on something else, but he'll have had enough experience with people experiencing their first kill in the army before joining the Commandant's crew. Still, that was already some years ago. Since Bryn is trying to hide his emotional turmoil at the moment, I want him to roll a Performance check. If he fails to beat Arren's Passive Insight, Arren will notice something is wrong. Lieutenant Tireur tried to assess Bryn actively, but rolled a 4, so he'll only notice if you roll under that.
The Elves - all men, it seems - all wore dark clothes, now torn, stained by their own blood. Apart from their clothes and weapons, each had only a short rope, a little under a metre long, tucked into their belt but ready to be pulled out should the need arise.
Once the Elf is stabilised enough - though they're still unconscious - the Lieutenant stands up and looks around. "We need to move the bodies before you go back to sleep. And... perhaps tie this person down. Maybe to one of the carriage's wheels, for now."
'Tace' doesn't react to the commandant, and certainly doesn't object to her going back to sleep. I am not sure I could sleep right now even if I was in a posh inn back home.
He watches as the Sergeant stabilises the prisoner, and when the Lieutenant suggests tying them to one of the carriages wheels, he nods.
"Right, of course. Yes, sir. He had some rope, I will use that", he says and then reaches down and is about to attempt to move the prisoner when he stops.
He looks to the Sergeant, "If we do it together, we are less likely to aggravate his injuries".
The Commandant's curt reply doesn't surprise Arren, but his jaw clenches all the same. He watches as she issues her orders and turn away, then answers evenly, "Understood, ma'am." He pauses for a bit, and then adds, "I'll see to stabilizing the one who's unconscious." His tone makes it clear that he's informing her rather than asking for permission.
Once the bandit is stable, Arren rises and gives the Lieutenant a nod. He packs the medical kit into his backpack, stows it inside the tent, and turns to the grim task of moving the bodies. He accepts the Corporal's suggestion and works alongside him, hauling the corpses away from camp to avoid attracting wild animals. With greater care, they move the unconscious bandit as well. Following the Lieutenant's words, they secure him to the carriage wheels. Arren ensures, however, that the elf rests in a comfortable position, checking that none of the bandaged wounds have reopened.
With that done, Arren crouches to examine the dead once more. "None of them are dressed like the figure you saw watching us," he remarks, recalling the Corporal’s description of a cloak patterned like mountain stone.
Now that the camp is calm and the mess dealt with, Arren will head back to the tent. He knows he rarely sleeps soundly after a skirmish like this one, but at least he can lie down until it's time to get up. He'll try to do that earlier than usual, to check on the bandit.
Before turning in, he glances at Tace. "You might want to take care of that," he says, nodding toward his bleeding arm.
When the Sergeant mentions the way the bandits are dressed compared to the ones he spotted previously, 'Tace' tries to bring that concept to the forefront of his mind, pushing away thoughts of killing.
"True, sir. I wonder if they are different groups, or if they have a penchant for camouflage", he replies.
When the Sergeant points out his bloodied arm, he lifts it to look. The bleeding had already slowed, but whether or not it had stopped he would only find out once he washed it. To that end, he gives the Sergeant a nod and heads over to the tarn.
Once done, he positions himself within sight of the tied up bandit to finish his trance, hoping he can push thoughts of death away long enough to rest.
"I don't know," Arren admits. "Both seem possible. Perhaps he'll give us some answers about this as well once he wakes."
As the Corporal tends his wound, Arren watches him. The Elf has handled himself very well in the fight—better than Arren would have expected from someone long posted at a prison and, he assumes, unaccustomed to skirmishes like this. That, he decides, is another promising sign.
When the Corporal finally settles into a trance within sight of their prisoner, Arren takes the chance to lie back down. He doubts he'll fall properly asleep again, but even a little rest will help.
The rest of the night passes without any further trouble. Both Arren and Bryn can finish their rest without issues, at least none external. Commandant Nattensbarn awakes just before dawn, when the sun's light can already be seen over the horizon but the sun itself hasn't crossed it yet. The sky is partially cloudy, and by the time the Commandant tears down her tent, a soft rain starts to fall. Lieutenant Tireur, who had kept watch for the remainder of the night, helps tear down the second tent once Arren awakes.
The prisoner, who had been unconscious until that moment, is awoken by the rain's water. He groans in pain when he tries to move, finding his hands tied and his chest injured. He looks around briefly at his surroundings but keeps silent at the moment.
The Commandant seems at first to be ignoring the prisoner and the bodies lying not too far from the camp. Only once everything is ready to move, she addresses the matter. "I hope you didn't plan to keep him there while we ride? Question them if you wish, but be quick about it. And remember, we can't take prisoners with us all the way to Pyorre."
'Tace' has already finished his trance by the time the Commandant wakes, but remains seated in quiet introspection. That bandit will not be waking up today, and it is all my fault. Will he be missed? Did he have family? Children?
He looks down at the shortsword placed close by him, with the slain bandits crossbow and bolt case. The bandits offered the chance to surrender. Whether they meant it or not, who knows. I gave the one I killed no such choice.
He looks across to the bandit tied unconscious to the carriage wheel. Will we give him quarter?
He realises that the commandant is busy packing up, and rises to start the day. Heading over to the tarn to discreetly wash his face. When he returns, he helps the Lieutenant and Sergeant pack the larger tent.
Once done, and the Commandant addresses the issue of the now conscious prisoner, he looks over at them. The Commandant's words causing the question to repeat in his mind. Will we give him quarter?
"Yes, Ma'am. No prisoners, Ma'am", he replies to the Commandant before heading over to squat by the prisoner. He looks around to see if the Sergeant or the Lieutenant are joining him, and wonders whether rank determines who leads the interrogation. The Commandant doesn't seem interested. Below her perhaps. What about the Lieutenant and Sergeant.
He then brings his gaze back to the prisoner, wondering what they thought of the statement that they cannot take prisoners. That could mean one of two things. Is he worried? Is he frightened? Is he defiant?
Arrenhardly needs the Commandant's reminder. In truth, he's been preparing for this since before dawn—or better said, since the moment he chose to stop the bandit's bleeding. He knows well enough there's a cost to sparing a life in a situation like this, especially when they can't take him with them. As he woke, dressed, strapped on his armor, and helped strike the tents, he carried that thought with him. And even though he's braced for it, a thought flickers in his mind. It would have been easier to let him die.
But he didn't. And now there will be a price. He just doesn't know what form it will take, yet.
Since it was his decission to close the man's wounds, Arren decides it should also be his duty to lead the questioning—unless the Lieutenant objects. After a brief word with him to ensure there's no objection from his superior, Arren strides past Tace and drops into a crouch beside the prisoner and positions him upright so he can face them. He takes care not to disturb the injuries he himself inflicted, but there's no gentleness in the act. It's efficient, deliberate. Meant to make the man presentable for questioning. But there's no respect in his touch, since this was someone who chose to ambush them, who might have killed the Lieutenant had the Corporal and him been slower, or perhaps even robbed—or killed—another group less capable to withstand them.
With that in mind, Sergeant al-Nasrid hardens his expression, and adresses the bandit. His first question is simple, meant only to test the man's awareness. "What’s your name?"
Arren waits for the answer, if there is one. Either way, if the bandit looks lucid enough, he continues. "Your actions last night ended up with two of your companions dead. Another was badly wounded, but fled. Can't say if he made it far, though. He could be lying dead somewhere out there, for all we know. The others ran off unharmed. Which leaves you here."
The Sergeant lets that information settle, his eyes fixed on the man as he studies the reaction. (Insight check ... 3)
Damn you, Arren's Insight!!!!!!!!!
Then, after a pause, he presses on with the questions that matter. "Where do you come from? Where is your group based? How long have you been following us?"
At this point, Arren glances toward his companions, offering an opening for them to step in.
The Lieutenant doesn't seem interested in leading the interrogation, though he stands and watches the interrogation a few steps away, next to the Commandant.
While Arren is busy interrogating the prisoner, Bryn is slightly more aware of the two sets of eyes behind them. The Lieutenant, while he didn't want to lead the interrogation, has his eyes fixed on the tied Elf. Commandant Nattensbarn, however, barely looks at the prisoner at all. Instead, she looks like she's watching Arren, studying him even. She keeps a stern face, and even from body language alone, one could deduce she's hurrying, but she's still watching the interrogator, and occasionally, Bryn as well (he might notice, especially if/when he talks).
The prisoner raises his eyes from the ground to meet Arren's, and then, before saying anything, spits in the Half-Elf's face if it's close enough, or at his feet otherwise. "Like I'd tell you, Meyen soldier." He speaks in the Common Humans' Tongue, but the word 'Meyen' is loaded with much contempt and poison. As if, to him, this is as bad an insult as one could come up with.
While Arren responds, however he does, or while he continues as described if he doesn't respond to the provocation in any special way, the prisoner tries to study Arren as best he can. Then, if he gets a chance to talk, he ignores whatever Arren said to him and instead asks in Elvish (OOC: To differentiate, I'll put languages other than Common in square brackets): ["Look at you. Half Elven, half... doesn't look Meyen to me. Why should you serve them? We are the ones native to this land. They only came recently. They shouldn't be here at all, and certainly not rule over our lands. And yet, instead of resisting, instead of banishing them from our lands, you serve them, only strengthening their foothold over our land. Have you no shame? Or did they raise you, young as you are, to believe this is the correct world order? Huh, I bet they didn't even teach you our tongue. I bet you understood nothing of what I said."]
These words seem to be directed to Bryn just as they are to Arren. The Lieutenant looks confused, having understood none of the spoken words. The Commandant still keeps a stern face, and Bryn notices she's still watching Arren's reaction, as well as his. Arren knows she doesn't know Elvish, but doesn't notice her focus on him in particular.
The hairs on the back of 'Tace's' neck bristle as he feels the eyes of the Commandant on the Sergeant and him, but he tries to remain calm. She is watching us. Assessing us, or the Sergeant at the least.
He listens to the Sergeant's line of questions, inwardly wincing at the mention of the dead comrades. Was it necessary? Was it survival? He would have killed me...right?
The Sergeant asks some pertinent questions, but it seems the prisoner is in no mood to answer them. And as the prisoner spits at the Sergeant, he is a little taken aback. Where is the fear? Where is the capitulation? This hatred of the Meyens runs deep.
He keeps his eyes focussed on the prisoner, allowing his peripheral vision to capture the Sergeant's reaction if possible. And at the prisoner's monologue in Elvish regarding the Meyen invaders having no business here, he finds he feels a little common ground. Levickans have no love for the Meyens either. But the war was over decades ago, at least the open conflict. Wasn't it?
And it is true, the Sergeant was not born Meyen, nor was he from Pohja. And yet his mother brought him to Katto as a child from Etana, rather than to one of the native nations. She must have had her reasons for that. Perhaps Katto at that time seemed a good place to disappear.
He tries hard not to turn and look at the Sergeant to better see his reaction in that moment. But his eyes remain fixed on the prisoners as he waits for the inevitable response from the sergeant.
As the monologue continues, he is aware that the prisoner is not just directing his barbed words at the Sergeant, but it is water off a ducks back to him, bearing in mind his true allegiance.
And he notices that the Lieutenant and Commandant are lost at this point in the interrogation with the change of language, but to turn and interpret right at this moment doesn't feel right either.
Let's give it a moment and see how this plays out. See how the Sergeant reacts.
Arren doesn't flinch when the prisoner refuses to give his name. He expected defiance, and that first question didn't matter to him anyway. But the spitting, the clear contempt when he calls him "Meyen" and what the Elf adds afterwards in Elvish catch him off guard.
The Sergeant's gaze drops briefly to the spot where the Wood Elf has spitted at his feet, then a snort escapes him at the mention of his heritage, which he quickly suppressed before he fixes the prisoner with a cold stare again.
Inside, his anger burns hotter than his expression betrays. But he reins in the feeling, letting the silence stretch just long enough for the heat to cool and for him to decide how to answer.
Arren decides he won't switch to Elvish, and he won’t explain about his non Elven half. That's nothing the bandit deserves to know about. Instead, he keeps his voice even, and tries to compensate the fact that his superiors don't understand Elvish by trying to give enough context as he replies so they can follow.
"Who do you think you are, questioning my life and my choices? Is that your excuse for what you and your companions do? You think resentment toward the Meyen gives you free rein to assault, rob, and murder? That's pathetic. As pathetic as the skill you all showed last night when you attacked us."
He pauses, letting the words hang. "Though, I have to say, the fact that you lot have been following us for two days—and we only noticed one of you watching from the mountains—that was impressive. I never thought common bandits could hide that well."
Arren knows he's mixing this man and his companions with the figure Tace saw, without proof they are connected. But the prisoner's refusal to answer directly forces him to try any tactic that might provoke a response. Following the same principle, he continues.
"Is that also what you tell yourselves when you assault other people on this road? Or when you ransacked the Ledge Lodge? Or do you only do this if the targets are Mey? …How very kind of you, if that's the case."
'Tace' listens as the Sergeant addresses the questions of his lineage and the contempt towards Meyens with a firm dismissal and a bit of a rebuke, before changing tack and seemingly trying to rattle the prisoner or confuse them a little. This prisoners defiance differs greatly from my own technique when being interrogated, but the prisoner already gave the game away that he speaks common. Perhaps hiding that might have been wiser.
He is intrigued as to the prisoners position though. They were obviously impacted by the war, but as a direct combatant or indirectly? The Sergeant is right, if these were the ones that were watching them, they had some skill at surveillance at least. But that is a big if.
"I don't know, Sir. Yes they were able to surveil us fairly adeptly, and the business at the Ledge Lodge seemed quite competent, but the clumsiness of this incursion suggests these aren't the same group. Or perhaps there is division in the ranks, and these less competent bandits took it upon themselves to try and rob us", he says slightly dismissively of the prisoner, trying to rile a little further.
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'Tace' is taken aback by the ease with which the shortsword pierces the bandits heart. He is so distracted that the dagger throw he planned went well and truly wrong, almost hitting the Sergeant. When did my flight reflex turn to fight anyway.
Over the now prone form of the bandit he killed he sees the Sergeant take the front foot against one of the other bandits, and in a whirling dance of steel drops the man with ease. Him I expect it from, but I killed a man, and it was so...easy.
And then the Lieutenant's strong authoritative voice cuts through his introspection and he begins to move, sheathing his short sword and reaching down to pick up the crossbow the dead bandit so recently clutched. He quickly loads it and trains it on the now fleeing bandits, moving to the one sneaking towards the tents as his foot crunches on some leaves or twigs.
And then it is over, and he is left to look down upon the man he killed. But surely it is not the first man Tace Peite killed. Tace was the last person he had witnessed die, but that had been an accident, not of his doing. I can't focus on this right now.
He takes a deep breath even as the Sergeant races for the tent. Yes, a captive, someone who might have answers. A distraction.
He wanders across to look down on the form of the bandit slowly bleeding out, waiting to see if the Sergeant can indeed save him. Blood drips down his own arm from the crossbow bolt that tagged him, but he is too numb to notice. He doesn't even trust his voice not to betray him right now, and so he remains quiet.
Keep it together...
In response to calling her, the Commandant sounds a grunt from inside her tent before popping out of it. She still looks half asleep, and not in any way pleased with her already short sleep interrupted. "I'm still alive, now let me sleep." She then notices the body at her feet and the others around. "And clean this mess up before dawn." Unless anyone stops her, she'll more or less fall back into her small tent, and almost surely, back into her sleep within moments.
Lieutenant Tireur places his firearm back in his belt while watching Arren hurrying to get the medical kit. He looks in "Tace's" direction briefly while Arren is in the tent, but if he notices anything that's going on with Bryn, he doesn't react to it. Instead, he sits down to assist Arren as much as he can with one arm.
Arren is currently focused on something else, but he'll have had enough experience with people experiencing their first kill in the army before joining the Commandant's crew. Still, that was already some years ago. Since Bryn is trying to hide his emotional turmoil at the moment, I want him to roll a Performance check. If he fails to beat Arren's Passive Insight, Arren will notice something is wrong. Lieutenant Tireur tried to assess Bryn actively, but rolled a 4, so he'll only notice if you roll under that.
The Elves - all men, it seems - all wore dark clothes, now torn, stained by their own blood. Apart from their clothes and weapons, each had only a short rope, a little under a metre long, tucked into their belt but ready to be pulled out should the need arise.
Once the Elf is stabilised enough - though they're still unconscious - the Lieutenant stands up and looks around. "We need to move the bodies before you go back to sleep. And... perhaps tie this person down. Maybe to one of the carriage's wheels, for now."
Varielky
'Tace' doesn't react to the commandant, and certainly doesn't object to her going back to sleep. I am not sure I could sleep right now even if I was in a posh inn back home.
He watches as the Sergeant stabilises the prisoner, and when the Lieutenant suggests tying them to one of the carriages wheels, he nods.
"Right, of course. Yes, sir. He had some rope, I will use that", he says and then reaches down and is about to attempt to move the prisoner when he stops.
He looks to the Sergeant, "If we do it together, we are less likely to aggravate his injuries".
Performance: 16+2=18
The Commandant's curt reply doesn't surprise Arren, but his jaw clenches all the same. He watches as she issues her orders and turn away, then answers evenly, "Understood, ma'am." He pauses for a bit, and then adds, "I'll see to stabilizing the one who's unconscious." His tone makes it clear that he's informing her rather than asking for permission.
Once the bandit is stable, Arren rises and gives the Lieutenant a nod. He packs the medical kit into his backpack, stows it inside the tent, and turns to the grim task of moving the bodies. He accepts the Corporal's suggestion and works alongside him, hauling the corpses away from camp to avoid attracting wild animals. With greater care, they move the unconscious bandit as well. Following the Lieutenant's words, they secure him to the carriage wheels. Arren ensures, however, that the elf rests in a comfortable position, checking that none of the bandaged wounds have reopened.
With that done, Arren crouches to examine the dead once more. "None of them are dressed like the figure you saw watching us," he remarks, recalling the Corporal’s description of a cloak patterned like mountain stone.
Now that the camp is calm and the mess dealt with, Arren will head back to the tent. He knows he rarely sleeps soundly after a skirmish like this one, but at least he can lie down until it's time to get up. He'll try to do that earlier than usual, to check on the bandit.
Before turning in, he glances at Tace. "You might want to take care of that," he says, nodding toward his bleeding arm.
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
When the Sergeant mentions the way the bandits are dressed compared to the ones he spotted previously, 'Tace' tries to bring that concept to the forefront of his mind, pushing away thoughts of killing.
"True, sir. I wonder if they are different groups, or if they have a penchant for camouflage", he replies.
When the Sergeant points out his bloodied arm, he lifts it to look. The bleeding had already slowed, but whether or not it had stopped he would only find out once he washed it. To that end, he gives the Sergeant a nod and heads over to the tarn.
Once done, he positions himself within sight of the tied up bandit to finish his trance, hoping he can push thoughts of death away long enough to rest.
"I don't know," Arren admits. "Both seem possible. Perhaps he'll give us some answers about this as well once he wakes."
As the Corporal tends his wound, Arren watches him. The Elf has handled himself very well in the fight—better than Arren would have expected from someone long posted at a prison and, he assumes, unaccustomed to skirmishes like this. That, he decides, is another promising sign.
When the Corporal finally settles into a trance within sight of their prisoner, Arren takes the chance to lie back down. He doubts he'll fall properly asleep again, but even a little rest will help.
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
The rest of the night passes without any further trouble. Both Arren and Bryn can finish their rest without issues, at least none external. Commandant Nattensbarn awakes just before dawn, when the sun's light can already be seen over the horizon but the sun itself hasn't crossed it yet. The sky is partially cloudy, and by the time the Commandant tears down her tent, a soft rain starts to fall. Lieutenant Tireur, who had kept watch for the remainder of the night, helps tear down the second tent once Arren awakes.
The prisoner, who had been unconscious until that moment, is awoken by the rain's water. He groans in pain when he tries to move, finding his hands tied and his chest injured. He looks around briefly at his surroundings but keeps silent at the moment.
The Commandant seems at first to be ignoring the prisoner and the bodies lying not too far from the camp. Only once everything is ready to move, she addresses the matter. "I hope you didn't plan to keep him there while we ride? Question them if you wish, but be quick about it. And remember, we can't take prisoners with us all the way to Pyorre."
Varielky
'Tace' has already finished his trance by the time the Commandant wakes, but remains seated in quiet introspection. That bandit will not be waking up today, and it is all my fault. Will he be missed? Did he have family? Children?
He looks down at the shortsword placed close by him, with the slain bandits crossbow and bolt case. The bandits offered the chance to surrender. Whether they meant it or not, who knows. I gave the one I killed no such choice.
He looks across to the bandit tied unconscious to the carriage wheel. Will we give him quarter?
He realises that the commandant is busy packing up, and rises to start the day. Heading over to the tarn to discreetly wash his face. When he returns, he helps the Lieutenant and Sergeant pack the larger tent.
Once done, and the Commandant addresses the issue of the now conscious prisoner, he looks over at them. The Commandant's words causing the question to repeat in his mind. Will we give him quarter?
"Yes, Ma'am. No prisoners, Ma'am", he replies to the Commandant before heading over to squat by the prisoner. He looks around to see if the Sergeant or the Lieutenant are joining him, and wonders whether rank determines who leads the interrogation. The Commandant doesn't seem interested. Below her perhaps. What about the Lieutenant and Sergeant.
He then brings his gaze back to the prisoner, wondering what they thought of the statement that they cannot take prisoners. That could mean one of two things. Is he worried? Is he frightened? Is he defiant?
Insight: 15+5=20
Arren hardly needs the Commandant's reminder. In truth, he's been preparing for this since before dawn—or better said, since the moment he chose to stop the bandit's bleeding. He knows well enough there's a cost to sparing a life in a situation like this, especially when they can't take him with them. As he woke, dressed, strapped on his armor, and helped strike the tents, he carried that thought with him. And even though he's braced for it, a thought flickers in his mind. It would have been easier to let him die.
But he didn't. And now there will be a price. He just doesn't know what form it will take, yet.
Since it was his decission to close the man's wounds, Arren decides it should also be his duty to lead the questioning—unless the Lieutenant objects. After a brief word with him to ensure there's no objection from his superior, Arren strides past Tace and drops into a crouch beside the prisoner and positions him upright so he can face them. He takes care not to disturb the injuries he himself inflicted, but there's no gentleness in the act. It's efficient, deliberate. Meant to make the man presentable for questioning. But there's no respect in his touch, since this was someone who chose to ambush them, who might have killed the Lieutenant had the Corporal and him been slower, or perhaps even robbed—or killed—another group less capable to withstand them.
With that in mind, Sergeant al-Nasrid hardens his expression, and adresses the bandit. His first question is simple, meant only to test the man's awareness. "What’s your name?"
Arren waits for the answer, if there is one. Either way, if the bandit looks lucid enough, he continues. "Your actions last night ended up with two of your companions dead. Another was badly wounded, but fled. Can't say if he made it far, though. He could be lying dead somewhere out there, for all we know. The others ran off unharmed. Which leaves you here."
The Sergeant lets that information settle, his eyes fixed on the man as he studies the reaction. (Insight check ... 3)
Damn you, Arren's Insight!!!!!!!!!
Then, after a pause, he presses on with the questions that matter. "Where do you come from? Where is your group based? How long have you been following us?"
At this point, Arren glances toward his companions, offering an opening for them to step in.
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
The Lieutenant doesn't seem interested in leading the interrogation, though he stands and watches the interrogation a few steps away, next to the Commandant.
While Arren is busy interrogating the prisoner, Bryn is slightly more aware of the two sets of eyes behind them. The Lieutenant, while he didn't want to lead the interrogation, has his eyes fixed on the tied Elf. Commandant Nattensbarn, however, barely looks at the prisoner at all. Instead, she looks like she's watching Arren, studying him even. She keeps a stern face, and even from body language alone, one could deduce she's hurrying, but she's still watching the interrogator, and occasionally, Bryn as well (he might notice, especially if/when he talks).
The prisoner raises his eyes from the ground to meet Arren's, and then, before saying anything, spits in the Half-Elf's face if it's close enough, or at his feet otherwise. "Like I'd tell you, Meyen soldier." He speaks in the Common Humans' Tongue, but the word 'Meyen' is loaded with much contempt and poison. As if, to him, this is as bad an insult as one could come up with.
While Arren responds, however he does, or while he continues as described if he doesn't respond to the provocation in any special way, the prisoner tries to study Arren as best he can. Then, if he gets a chance to talk, he ignores whatever Arren said to him and instead asks in Elvish (OOC: To differentiate, I'll put languages other than Common in square brackets): ["Look at you. Half Elven, half... doesn't look Meyen to me. Why should you serve them? We are the ones native to this land. They only came recently. They shouldn't be here at all, and certainly not rule over our lands. And yet, instead of resisting, instead of banishing them from our lands, you serve them, only strengthening their foothold over our land. Have you no shame? Or did they raise you, young as you are, to believe this is the correct world order? Huh, I bet they didn't even teach you our tongue. I bet you understood nothing of what I said."]
These words seem to be directed to Bryn just as they are to Arren. The Lieutenant looks confused, having understood none of the spoken words. The Commandant still keeps a stern face, and Bryn notices she's still watching Arren's reaction, as well as his. Arren knows she doesn't know Elvish, but doesn't notice her focus on him in particular.
Varielky
The hairs on the back of 'Tace's' neck bristle as he feels the eyes of the Commandant on the Sergeant and him, but he tries to remain calm. She is watching us. Assessing us, or the Sergeant at the least.
He listens to the Sergeant's line of questions, inwardly wincing at the mention of the dead comrades. Was it necessary? Was it survival? He would have killed me...right?
The Sergeant asks some pertinent questions, but it seems the prisoner is in no mood to answer them. And as the prisoner spits at the Sergeant, he is a little taken aback. Where is the fear? Where is the capitulation? This hatred of the Meyens runs deep.
He keeps his eyes focussed on the prisoner, allowing his peripheral vision to capture the Sergeant's reaction if possible. And at the prisoner's monologue in Elvish regarding the Meyen invaders having no business here, he finds he feels a little common ground. Levickans have no love for the Meyens either. But the war was over decades ago, at least the open conflict. Wasn't it?
And it is true, the Sergeant was not born Meyen, nor was he from Pohja. And yet his mother brought him to Katto as a child from Etana, rather than to one of the native nations. She must have had her reasons for that. Perhaps Katto at that time seemed a good place to disappear.
He tries hard not to turn and look at the Sergeant to better see his reaction in that moment. But his eyes remain fixed on the prisoners as he waits for the inevitable response from the sergeant.
As the monologue continues, he is aware that the prisoner is not just directing his barbed words at the Sergeant, but it is water off a ducks back to him, bearing in mind his true allegiance.
And he notices that the Lieutenant and Commandant are lost at this point in the interrogation with the change of language, but to turn and interpret right at this moment doesn't feel right either.
Let's give it a moment and see how this plays out. See how the Sergeant reacts.
Arren doesn't flinch when the prisoner refuses to give his name. He expected defiance, and that first question didn't matter to him anyway. But the spitting, the clear contempt when he calls him "Meyen" and what the Elf adds afterwards in Elvish catch him off guard.
The Sergeant's gaze drops briefly to the spot where the Wood Elf has spitted at his feet, then a snort escapes him at the mention of his heritage, which he quickly suppressed before he fixes the prisoner with a cold stare again.
Inside, his anger burns hotter than his expression betrays. But he reins in the feeling, letting the silence stretch just long enough for the heat to cool and for him to decide how to answer.
Arren decides he won't switch to Elvish, and he won’t explain about his non Elven half. That's nothing the bandit deserves to know about. Instead, he keeps his voice even, and tries to compensate the fact that his superiors don't understand Elvish by trying to give enough context as he replies so they can follow.
"Who do you think you are, questioning my life and my choices? Is that your excuse for what you and your companions do? You think resentment toward the Meyen gives you free rein to assault, rob, and murder? That's pathetic. As pathetic as the skill you all showed last night when you attacked us."
He pauses, letting the words hang. "Though, I have to say, the fact that you lot have been following us for two days—and we only noticed one of you watching from the mountains—that was impressive. I never thought common bandits could hide that well."
Arren knows he's mixing this man and his companions with the figure Tace saw, without proof they are connected. But the prisoner's refusal to answer directly forces him to try any tactic that might provoke a response. Following the same principle, he continues.
"Is that also what you tell yourselves when you assault other people on this road? Or when you ransacked the Ledge Lodge? Or do you only do this if the targets are Mey? …How very kind of you, if that's the case."
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
'Tace' listens as the Sergeant addresses the questions of his lineage and the contempt towards Meyens with a firm dismissal and a bit of a rebuke, before changing tack and seemingly trying to rattle the prisoner or confuse them a little. This prisoners defiance differs greatly from my own technique when being interrogated, but the prisoner already gave the game away that he speaks common. Perhaps hiding that might have been wiser.
He is intrigued as to the prisoners position though. They were obviously impacted by the war, but as a direct combatant or indirectly? The Sergeant is right, if these were the ones that were watching them, they had some skill at surveillance at least. But that is a big if.
"I don't know, Sir. Yes they were able to surveil us fairly adeptly, and the business at the Ledge Lodge seemed quite competent, but the clumsiness of this incursion suggests these aren't the same group. Or perhaps there is division in the ranks, and these less competent bandits took it upon themselves to try and rob us", he says slightly dismissively of the prisoner, trying to rile a little further.