Jacaranda glances whistfully over to where Rainfall was thrown but she had other ways of expressing herself. Her scimitar and shortsword were drawn and she began working her way up the bandits body targeting joints and soft tissue.
Riven watches, breath shallow, body still as stone beneath the tangled limbs of the brush. The cold earth presses against his knees, as his eyes lock on the unfolding scene.
Movement.
Joy and Gilles. Stepping forward, leading the horses toward the bandits.
He sees Joy lower her weapons, arms outstretched in what looks like surrender, but it’s not weakness. It’s calculation. She’s buying time.
But then, a change.
The bandits grab the hostages by the hair, rough and deliberate, yanking them upright. The dragonborn woman winces in pain, and Riven watches the subtle flinch ripple through the others. The distance is still close, but everything’s changed. That perfect gap, that window, it’s gone. With them held like that, there's no way to move in without risking a response from the bandits
His jaw tightens. Eyes flick. Options vanish.
Then.....
The bandore wails, its off-key sound shredding through the tension.
The other bandits freeze, bewildered. They glance at one another, trying to decipher the nonsensical outburst, waiting for a cue that doesn’t come.
Riven acts. The horn is already in his hand, lips pressed to its mouthpiece.
He blows.
A single, sharp silent note breaks the air.
It’s meant for Hollow.
The signal is a summons, a call to charge, not blindly, but toward the sound. Toward him. And where one horse bolts, others may follow. Stampede one, there is a chance the rest will follow.
He remains hidden, eyes still locked on the hostages.
Joy seizes her chance as the bandits are distracted, focusing on her Oath as she utters a divine command with all of the authority she can muster. "Drop!" Once the bandits release their grip on the hostages, she knows the party can handle them easily.
Action: command at 2nd lvl (1st lvl if one is already vortex warped away) targeting the two bandits near Joy. DC 17 WIS or drop what they are holding and end their turn.
Vazo'yn's golden eyes are fixed hard on the lead bandit, satisfied by the way the man's hubris will lead to his downfall. His fears of the Fellowship being separated are washed away by the beautifully discordant sound of the bandore being played in unskilled hands.
He remains focused on the bandits' leader, determined not to let him regain any semblance of control. His mouth moves, but the whispers that tumble out are meant only for the man who tried to play a little song of victory. Vazo'yn's voice is joined by countless others, the spirits of his ancestors whispering stories of confusion, deceit and chaos, cautionary tales against hubris and overconfidence.
The whispers fill the bandit leader's mind and threaten to overwhelm him.
[[Using the Tale of the Beguiler he rolled up previously. DC 16 Wisdom save or take 11 psychic damage and be incapacitated until the end of his next turn.]]
The old ones were not yet released but the opportunity to save them was at least better now, and everyone was ready to act on the drow's signal. As the bandit leader plays the instrument, the dark-haired man rushes over to move away the old one by the bandit leader out of his reach, instinctively calling for help from the feywild, a small mischievous fey suddenly appearing behind the bandit leader on his horse, stabbing him twice with it's fey blade for being a naughty bully, and then all goes black around them. Meanwhile the tiny invisible blonde swoops down to any bandit still left, furiously stabbing him with her tiny blade.
Jack Movement: North, hoping to get the old one there with him and away from the bandit leader. Action: Cast Summon Fey, calling another fey friend Shadowwisp to appear just behind the bandit leader on his horse. Bonus action: Pact of the Chain, Quick Attack to allow Lily to attack
Shadowwisp Feyblade: 28 Another roll if advantage due to suddenly appearing behind and stabbing in the back: 19 Force: 16 Feyblade: 17 Another roll if advantage due to suddenly appearing behind and stabbing in the back: 28 Force: 18 Bonus action: Fey step in front of the bandit leader, fills a 10-foot Cube around them with magical Darkness to prevent him from harming any old ones.
Lily Dash to any remaining bandit Reaction to attack. Needle Sword: 13 Piercing: 8
Giles rushes forward a few steps, gesticulating as he shouts the horse's name. The lesser bandits gawk back and forth from Giles to their leader, to the horse Giles is pointing at with his arms. It is clear from their response that this is the most dramatically weird hostage situation they have ever been in. They interpret Giles’ flailing as the ravings of a confused old dwarf. One manages to mutter, with an uncertain, uncommitted tone that he should stay back. Before he can finish his order, he blinks out of existence with a comical ‘pop’ sound, as the air rushes in to fill the vacuum of his sudden teleportation.
Immediately after, there is a loud splash in the river and a confused gurgle. The younger adventurers snap their attention to their right as they follow a man waving wildly in the river and quickly being pulled along. He barely can keep himself above water and it takes him precious seconds to even process what has happened to him - seconds that he could not afford to waste. He panics, trying to fight his way up the river, wasting incredible amounts of energy fighting the unknowable power of the river itself. In response to this, the river carries him to the middle and he is pulled into a vortex, where he manages a single yelp of understanding as he spins three, four, five times and is pulled under the water. He does not surface again.
Riven’s signal is like an unchaining for Hollow. He bolts to the left toward Riven releasing a heroic neigh that pulls the others along with him like an invisible tether. Randa easily slides from her horse in a single, smooth motion and is armed before she lands on the ground, then in a single step, her blades cast the light of the Daylight spell all about her as she becomes a whirlwind of blade work directed at the bandit leader. His skill with the blade is clear, as he deflects sword strikes with his blade that had somehow found its way into his hand. He might be a challenge if he were not harried by Randa and Vazo’yn at the same time. The bandit leader clasps the side of his head with a snarl, which is enough of a distraction that Randa’s blades find flesh instead of steel. He tumbles from the horse as it is led away by Hollow and stumbles to his feet, now without a hostage, a horse, and facing two opponents.
Three. Jack, having dismounted from the fleeing horse with far less grace than Randa, but far more than the bandit leader, ferried the hostage away and called for aid. The form of a shadow wisp appears behind the bandit leader, cutting with a blade that cuts, but also has an audible impact, like a bludgeoning weapon. The bandit leader’s face is awash with fury as all he can manage is to turn enemy blades away, but is unable to strike back. The fey creature cuts twice, the first finding purchase, but the second being turned aside by tough leather bracers. In this moment of defending his back, however, Randa’s swords find vital organs from the front. His attention snaps from the shadow wisp to Randa and their eyes lock as she steps in to drive the thrust deeper. She gets close enough that her nose burns from the offensive spicy smell of his tooth decay as the rage melts away from his face and he releases a single sigh, then slides off her blade as he drops to the ground.
The final bandit is still on his horse as he is pulled away toward Riven. Lily attempts to charge in with a stab of her own, but is swat away like an annoying fly. She is unharmed, save for her pride. The remaining bandit glares at Joy as she commands him to drop the hostage. He does so, but then immediately tries to gain control of the steed as it quickly carries him away. The horse resists him as he yanks ineffectually on the reins, carried right to Riven.
Riven emerges, not as a scout, not as a soldier, but to provide a verdict. No longer the ghost slipping between shadows, he is the conclusion, the final reckoning.
Ahead, the last bandit clings to his stolen steed, yanking desperately at the reins. Hollow does not slow. The loyal horse bears his burden without hesitation, muscles taut, mane flying, hooves pounding towards his rider.
Riven walks to meet them.
One hand lifts, slow and deliberate, lowering his hood to reveal a face carved with intention. His eyes locked on his enemy, not with rage, but with the cold certainty of someone who already knows how this ends.
He draws.
Not with fury. With purpose.
The scimitar slides free of its sheath, its blade extended. No flourish, no wasted motion, just the quiet confidence that the end is approaching.
Riven steps forward. Once again.
He adjusts his stance , blade raised, elbow locked. The tip, pointed at the bandit’s throat, waiting patiently.
The bandit sees him now, truly sees him, and panic blooms behind his eyes. He tugs harder. Hollow does not yield.
A moment passes.
The hooves continue to strike against the ground towards Riven.
Then, a whistle from Riven's lips.
Sharp. Cutting.
A command wrapped in sound.
Hollow halts mid-stride, muscles tensing as hooves dig furrows into the earth. The sudden stop throws the bandit forward, off balance, his throat landing inches from the blade that waits for him.
The scimitar does not waver.
It does not need to.
Riven stands unmoved, framed in dust. His voice follows in the wake of silence, low and final.
The bandit’s mind is slow to comprehend the fact that his head is still attached to his shoulders. His eyes are fixed on the blade and this eyes strain to see it under his chin. He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple rising to kiss the blade. As it rolls across the cold steel, he is shocked awake to the fact that he is not dead and immediately throws his knife away, then holds his hands in the air in surrender.
A quiet sigh of relief escapes Vazo'yn's lips as his keen eyes scan the Fellowship and see that none of them are injured and that the bandits have been dispatched or are otherwise under control.
"Is everyone okay?" he asks through their mental link, just to ensure there is nothing he's missed.
As he awaits their responses, he steps forward to retrieve his bandore, glad to have it back in his possession. Though his half-memories of a life not quite lived are still foggy, he knows the instrument is important to him. He uses a sleeve to begin to buff out the smudges left by the bandit's unworthy hands.
"Are you all okay?" he repeats aloud. This time the query is for the the freed hostages.
The small shadow fey pouts as it realizes the fun is over before it started and disappears in a wisp of shadows as quickly as it had appeared. The tiny blonde too disappears again, flying over to her ward to rest at his shoulder. Breathing a deep sigh of relief, the dark-haired man looks around at the old people, making sure they all seem okay. "Yes, yes I think so. Well done everyone." He messages into the telepathic connection. "All clear!"He calls over to the sons and daughters, waving for them to come over and take care of their loved ones. He then walks up the hill to join the grim ranger and his captive. "Mind if I have a little talk with this one?" He asks Riven with an acknowledging nod and a grateful smile.
She saunters down the hill to give Gust a rub and a carrot chunk.
*You are all so amazing! So fast and daring and skilled like real heroes out of fairy stories!*
She has half memories of prior events but this was real real. Even though initial thoughts were wrong, in the end, her friends helped people in need. That's pretty cool.
She then seeks out the injured elder and casts Cure Wounds for 12 healing. "There you go, sorry about the misudnerstanding before."
At the edges of his mind, Vazo’yn’s voice reaches him—measured, composed, but laced with concern.
“Is everyone okay?”
Riven’s reply is quiet.
“I am unharmed.”
When Jack approaches and speaks, Riven turns his head slightly in his direction. No words. Just a flicker of understanding.
He lifts the scimitar, not in threat, but command, a smooth, deliberate gesture that draws a line in the air between the bandit and the saddle. Motioning for him to get down.
Without waiting to ensure obedience, Riven sheaths the blade in a fluid motion, then turns away.
His boots crunch soft against the forest floor as he walks toward the shaken elders who, moments ago, were prisoners. Kneeling beside them, he begins gathering what he can—broken branches, scattered leaves, bits of old burlap, his hands sure, practiced. A small fire is needed. Not for defense now, but warmth. For comfort against their previous ordeal.
As the kindling takes shape in his hands, his voice does not rise, but in the silence of the aftermath, the weight of his presence speaks enough.
He leaves the questions to the curious. His hands once poised to deal death now turn quietly to serve the living.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Jack watches as the grim ranger leaves without a word, finding his silence a bit eerie but perhaps that was the point. "I take that as a yes then."he says to himself and steps closer to the remaining bandit. "Sorry about your friends there, the gods knows I've strayed from the path occasionally myself, but you really shouldn't be cruel to others, people tend to get angry and bad things happen." He says calmly. "I can't say for certain what will happen to you but if you cooperate that will definitely work in your favour when the that decision is made. You already know there's a withering wind sweeping across the land, something that will end all of us unless stopped. We're heading east to put an end to that threat. Can you tell us anything about the wind or what lies to the east?" He asks with a calm but firm tone.
Joy breathes a sigh of relief as the skirmish ends with no innocents lost. She feels vague pity for the slain bandits and offers a prayer, but they simply reaped the consequences of their own actions. She gives a warm smile after she collects her sword and returns to the reunited group.
"I'm fine. That couldn't have gone better, considering the circumstances!"
The four elderly people rust to each other’s arms and hug one another, having survived a major crisis. The younger adventurers rush up, examining the loved ones. Kylie, the aasimar champion of Pelor, runs to the one who had been stabbed. She slides in on armored knees, churning up dirt as she skids to a half just before him. Her hands glow as she whispers a quiet prayer as she prepares to heal but notices almost immediately that Ylis had already done it. She looks at the Fellowship and tries to speak, but her voice catches in her throat and with tears welling up in her eyes, she nods a thank you with a quivering lip.
The last living bandit does as ordered immediately, not requiring a second order lest he be given the same mercy that he had been delivering unto the helpless. He kneels in the dirt, becoming timid and servile. As Jack questions him, he spills all he knows to prevent the spilling of his blood.
“The east? No, we were traveling from the north along the river. We came from Felderwin. We were run out of town a few weeks back. We’re just burglars and… other things. It was either run or hang. Then the purple wall hit us… hit everything. We figured it was the end times but when we saw your light and talk of giving horses… I don’t know, I guess Rabo… that one over there.” he says, pointing to the leader bandit who lies dead on the ground some feet away. “I guess he thought we had a chance to outrun it.” He glances over to Riven warily, then back to Jack. “Rabo and Hest… they were always a bad bunch. I-I was just here to look tough. Name’s Eckor. It’s nice to meet such fine, merciful group of people.”
Randa wipes her blades on the older bandits clothes and stares into his open eyes for a full minute before rising.
" Rabo? Rabo is a plaything for The Lord of Lies now.", she touched her fingers to his neck wound and dragged the twin blood streaks down her left cheek.
" If all the innocents are well, we should try and get across this river now."
"I think it would be better to wait for daylight," Vazo'yn suggests as he removes the last of the smudges from his bandore, slinging it back over his shoulder and across his back.
"It will be even more treacherous to cross in the dark. The way the waters move we won't be able to see the hazards until they're upon us."
He seems uninterested in the last bandit's platitudes and contrition.
Joy clasps her hands as she listens to Eckor curiously, attempting to give him the benefit of the doubt. New dawns were always possible, but still, people were frequently more culpable than they liked to admit...or at least she got that feeling now. It was quite disconcerting to her current self.
Insight: 7+1 guidance= 8
Her gaze drifts to Randa, slightly uneasy. "'The 'Lord of Lies'...Isn't that...?" She doesn't want to say the being's name aloud. "I hope you don't worship him. There are much kinder gods, and you seem like a kind person to care about innocents."
"That looks like the signal." the bunny whispers to herself.
Since the leader is no longer holding hostage, Ylis will target whichever goon is holding the bleeding hostage, and try to send him into the river.
DC15 CON save vs swimming lessons. Lvl 4 Vortex Warp
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale
Jacaranda glances whistfully over to where Rainfall was thrown but she had other ways of expressing herself. Her scimitar and shortsword were drawn and she began working her way up the bandits body targeting joints and soft tissue.
1)Attack: 18 Damage: 5
2)Attack: 20 Damage: 6
Action Surge
1)Attack: 7 Damage: 5
2)Attack: 17 Damage: 3
Sap Inflicted.
Slow Inflicted
BA- 1)Attack: 17 Damage: 3
Riven watches, breath shallow, body still as stone beneath the tangled limbs of the brush. The cold earth presses against his knees, as his eyes lock on the unfolding scene.
Movement.
Joy and Gilles. Stepping forward, leading the horses toward the bandits.
He sees Joy lower her weapons, arms outstretched in what looks like surrender, but it’s not weakness. It’s calculation. She’s buying time.
But then, a change.
The bandits grab the hostages by the hair, rough and deliberate, yanking them upright. The dragonborn woman winces in pain, and Riven watches the subtle flinch ripple through the others. The distance is still close, but everything’s changed. That perfect gap, that window, it’s gone. With them held like that, there's no way to move in without risking a response from the bandits
His jaw tightens. Eyes flick. Options vanish.
Then.....
The bandore wails, its off-key sound shredding through the tension.
The other bandits freeze, bewildered. They glance at one another, trying to decipher the nonsensical outburst, waiting for a cue that doesn’t come.
Riven acts. The horn is already in his hand, lips pressed to its mouthpiece.
He blows.
A single, sharp silent note breaks the air.
It’s meant for Hollow.
The signal is a summons, a call to charge, not blindly, but toward the sound. Toward him. And where one horse bolts, others may follow. Stampede one, there is a chance the rest will follow.
He remains hidden, eyes still locked on the hostages.
Waiting.
Listening.
Joy seizes her chance as the bandits are distracted, focusing on her Oath as she utters a divine command with all of the authority she can muster. "Drop!" Once the bandits release their grip on the hostages, she knows the party can handle them easily.
Action: command at 2nd lvl (1st lvl if one is already vortex warped away) targeting the two bandits near Joy. DC 17 WIS or drop what they are holding and end their turn.
Vazo'yn's golden eyes are fixed hard on the lead bandit, satisfied by the way the man's hubris will lead to his downfall. His fears of the Fellowship being separated are washed away by the beautifully discordant sound of the bandore being played in unskilled hands.
He remains focused on the bandits' leader, determined not to let him regain any semblance of control. His mouth moves, but the whispers that tumble out are meant only for the man who tried to play a little song of victory. Vazo'yn's voice is joined by countless others, the spirits of his ancestors whispering stories of confusion, deceit and chaos, cautionary tales against hubris and overconfidence.
The whispers fill the bandit leader's mind and threaten to overwhelm him.
[[Using the Tale of the Beguiler he rolled up previously. DC 16 Wisdom save or take 11 psychic damage and be incapacitated until the end of his next turn.]]
The old ones were not yet released but the opportunity to save them was at least better now, and everyone was ready to act on the drow's signal. As the bandit leader plays the instrument, the dark-haired man rushes over to move away the old one by the bandit leader out of his reach, instinctively calling for help from the feywild, a small mischievous fey suddenly appearing behind the bandit leader on his horse, stabbing him twice with it's fey blade for being a naughty bully, and then all goes black around them. Meanwhile the tiny invisible blonde swoops down to any bandit still left, furiously stabbing him with her tiny blade.
Jack
Movement: North, hoping to get the old one there with him and away from the bandit leader.
Action: Cast Summon Fey, calling another fey friend Shadowwisp to appear just behind the bandit leader on his horse.
Bonus action: Pact of the Chain, Quick Attack to allow Lily to attack
Shadowwisp
Feyblade: 28 Another roll if advantage due to suddenly appearing behind and stabbing in the back: 19 Force: 16
Feyblade: 17 Another roll if advantage due to suddenly appearing behind and stabbing in the back: 28 Force: 18
Bonus action: Fey step in front of the bandit leader, fills a 10-foot Cube around them with magical Darkness to prevent him from harming any old ones.
Lily
Dash to any remaining bandit
Reaction to attack.
Needle Sword: 13 Piercing: 8
Giles rushes forward a few steps, gesticulating as he shouts the horse's name. The lesser bandits gawk back and forth from Giles to their leader, to the horse Giles is pointing at with his arms. It is clear from their response that this is the most dramatically weird hostage situation they have ever been in. They interpret Giles’ flailing as the ravings of a confused old dwarf. One manages to mutter, with an uncertain, uncommitted tone that he should stay back. Before he can finish his order, he blinks out of existence with a comical ‘pop’ sound, as the air rushes in to fill the vacuum of his sudden teleportation.
Immediately after, there is a loud splash in the river and a confused gurgle. The younger adventurers snap their attention to their right as they follow a man waving wildly in the river and quickly being pulled along. He barely can keep himself above water and it takes him precious seconds to even process what has happened to him - seconds that he could not afford to waste. He panics, trying to fight his way up the river, wasting incredible amounts of energy fighting the unknowable power of the river itself. In response to this, the river carries him to the middle and he is pulled into a vortex, where he manages a single yelp of understanding as he spins three, four, five times and is pulled under the water. He does not surface again.
Riven’s signal is like an unchaining for Hollow. He bolts to the left toward Riven releasing a heroic neigh that pulls the others along with him like an invisible tether. Randa easily slides from her horse in a single, smooth motion and is armed before she lands on the ground, then in a single step, her blades cast the light of the Daylight spell all about her as she becomes a whirlwind of blade work directed at the bandit leader. His skill with the blade is clear, as he deflects sword strikes with his blade that had somehow found its way into his hand. He might be a challenge if he were not harried by Randa and Vazo’yn at the same time. The bandit leader clasps the side of his head with a snarl, which is enough of a distraction that Randa’s blades find flesh instead of steel. He tumbles from the horse as it is led away by Hollow and stumbles to his feet, now without a hostage, a horse, and facing two opponents.
Three. Jack, having dismounted from the fleeing horse with far less grace than Randa, but far more than the bandit leader, ferried the hostage away and called for aid. The form of a shadow wisp appears behind the bandit leader, cutting with a blade that cuts, but also has an audible impact, like a bludgeoning weapon. The bandit leader’s face is awash with fury as all he can manage is to turn enemy blades away, but is unable to strike back. The fey creature cuts twice, the first finding purchase, but the second being turned aside by tough leather bracers. In this moment of defending his back, however, Randa’s swords find vital organs from the front. His attention snaps from the shadow wisp to Randa and their eyes lock as she steps in to drive the thrust deeper. She gets close enough that her nose burns from the offensive spicy smell of his tooth decay as the rage melts away from his face and he releases a single sigh, then slides off her blade as he drops to the ground.
The final bandit is still on his horse as he is pulled away toward Riven. Lily attempts to charge in with a stab of her own, but is swat away like an annoying fly. She is unharmed, save for her pride. The remaining bandit glares at Joy as she commands him to drop the hostage. He does so, but then immediately tries to gain control of the steed as it quickly carries him away. The horse resists him as he yanks ineffectually on the reins, carried right to Riven.
OOC: How does Riven end combat?
DM mostly, Player occasionally | Session 0 form | He/Him/They/Them
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Riven emerges, not as a scout, not as a soldier, but to provide a verdict. No longer the ghost slipping between shadows, he is the conclusion, the final reckoning.
Ahead, the last bandit clings to his stolen steed, yanking desperately at the reins. Hollow does not slow. The loyal horse bears his burden without hesitation, muscles taut, mane flying, hooves pounding towards his rider.
Riven walks to meet them.
One hand lifts, slow and deliberate, lowering his hood to reveal a face carved with intention. His eyes locked on his enemy, not with rage, but with the cold certainty of someone who already knows how this ends.
He draws.
Not with fury. With purpose.
The scimitar slides free of its sheath, its blade extended. No flourish, no wasted motion, just the quiet confidence that the end is approaching.
Riven steps forward. Once again.
He adjusts his stance , blade raised, elbow locked. The tip, pointed at the bandit’s throat, waiting patiently.
The bandit sees him now, truly sees him, and panic blooms behind his eyes. He tugs harder. Hollow does not yield.
A moment passes.
The hooves continue to strike against the ground towards Riven.
Then, a whistle from Riven's lips.
Sharp. Cutting.
A command wrapped in sound.
Hollow halts mid-stride, muscles tensing as hooves dig furrows into the earth. The sudden stop throws the bandit forward, off balance, his throat landing inches from the blade that waits for him.
The scimitar does not waver.
It does not need to.
Riven stands unmoved, framed in dust. His voice follows in the wake of silence, low and final.
“Your ride ends here.”
The bandit stares down the blade.
"Yield"
The bandit’s mind is slow to comprehend the fact that his head is still attached to his shoulders. His eyes are fixed on the blade and this eyes strain to see it under his chin. He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple rising to kiss the blade. As it rolls across the cold steel, he is shocked awake to the fact that he is not dead and immediately throws his knife away, then holds his hands in the air in surrender.
DM mostly, Player occasionally | Session 0 form | He/Him/They/Them
EXTENDED SIGNATURE!
Doctor/Published Scholar/Science and Healthcare Advocate/Critter/Trekkie/Gandalf with a Glock
Try DDB free: Free Rules (2024), premade PCs, adventures, one shots, encounters, SC, homebrew, more
Answers: physical books, purchases, and subbing.
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A quiet sigh of relief escapes Vazo'yn's lips as his keen eyes scan the Fellowship and see that none of them are injured and that the bandits have been dispatched or are otherwise under control.
"Is everyone okay?" he asks through their mental link, just to ensure there is nothing he's missed.
As he awaits their responses, he steps forward to retrieve his bandore, glad to have it back in his possession. Though his half-memories of a life not quite lived are still foggy, he knows the instrument is important to him. He uses a sleeve to begin to buff out the smudges left by the bandit's unworthy hands.
"Are you all okay?" he repeats aloud. This time the query is for the the freed hostages.
The small shadow fey pouts as it realizes the fun is over before it started and disappears in a wisp of shadows as quickly as it had appeared.
The tiny blonde too disappears again, flying over to her ward to rest at his shoulder.
Breathing a deep sigh of relief, the dark-haired man looks around at the old people, making sure they all seem okay. "Yes, yes I think so. Well done everyone." He messages into the telepathic connection.
"All clear!" He calls over to the sons and daughters, waving for them to come over and take care of their loved ones.
He then walks up the hill to join the grim ranger and his captive. "Mind if I have a little talk with this one?" He asks Riven with an acknowledging nod and a grateful smile.
*Feeling good* Ylis responds.
She saunters down the hill to give Gust a rub and a carrot chunk.
*You are all so amazing! So fast and daring and skilled like real heroes out of fairy stories!*
She has half memories of prior events but this was real real. Even though initial thoughts were wrong, in the end, her friends helped people in need. That's pretty cool.
She then seeks out the injured elder and casts Cure Wounds for 12 healing. "There you go, sorry about the misudnerstanding before."
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale
At the edges of his mind, Vazo’yn’s voice reaches him—measured, composed, but laced with concern.
“Is everyone okay?”
Riven’s reply is quiet.
“I am unharmed.”
When Jack approaches and speaks, Riven turns his head slightly in his direction. No words. Just a flicker of understanding.
He lifts the scimitar, not in threat, but command, a smooth, deliberate gesture that draws a line in the air between the bandit and the saddle. Motioning for him to get down.
Without waiting to ensure obedience, Riven sheaths the blade in a fluid motion, then turns away.
His boots crunch soft against the forest floor as he walks toward the shaken elders who, moments ago, were prisoners. Kneeling beside them, he begins gathering what he can—broken branches, scattered leaves, bits of old burlap, his hands sure, practiced. A small fire is needed. Not for defense now, but warmth. For comfort against their previous ordeal.
As the kindling takes shape in his hands, his voice does not rise, but in the silence of the aftermath, the weight of his presence speaks enough.
He leaves the questions to the curious. His hands once poised to deal death now turn quietly to serve the living.
He builds. He watches. He listens.
Jack watches as the grim ranger leaves without a word, finding his silence a bit eerie but perhaps that was the point. "I take that as a yes then." he says to himself and steps closer to the remaining bandit. "Sorry about your friends there, the gods knows I've strayed from the path occasionally myself, but you really shouldn't be cruel to others, people tend to get angry and bad things happen." He says calmly. "I can't say for certain what will happen to you but if you cooperate that will definitely work in your favour when the that decision is made. You already know there's a withering wind sweeping across the land, something that will end all of us unless stopped. We're heading east to put an end to that threat. Can you tell us anything about the wind or what lies to the east?" He asks with a calm but firm tone.
Persuasion: 26
Joy breathes a sigh of relief as the skirmish ends with no innocents lost. She feels vague pity for the slain bandits and offers a prayer, but they simply reaped the consequences of their own actions. She gives a warm smile after she collects her sword and returns to the reunited group.
"I'm fine. That couldn't have gone better, considering the circumstances!"
The four elderly people rust to each other’s arms and hug one another, having survived a major crisis. The younger adventurers rush up, examining the loved ones. Kylie, the aasimar champion of Pelor, runs to the one who had been stabbed. She slides in on armored knees, churning up dirt as she skids to a half just before him. Her hands glow as she whispers a quiet prayer as she prepares to heal but notices almost immediately that Ylis had already done it. She looks at the Fellowship and tries to speak, but her voice catches in her throat and with tears welling up in her eyes, she nods a thank you with a quivering lip.
The last living bandit does as ordered immediately, not requiring a second order lest he be given the same mercy that he had been delivering unto the helpless. He kneels in the dirt, becoming timid and servile. As Jack questions him, he spills all he knows to prevent the spilling of his blood.
“The east? No, we were traveling from the north along the river. We came from Felderwin. We were run out of town a few weeks back. We’re just burglars and… other things. It was either run or hang. Then the purple wall hit us… hit everything. We figured it was the end times but when we saw your light and talk of giving horses… I don’t know, I guess Rabo… that one over there.” he says, pointing to the leader bandit who lies dead on the ground some feet away. “I guess he thought we had a chance to outrun it.” He glances over to Riven warily, then back to Jack. “Rabo and Hest… they were always a bad bunch. I-I was just here to look tough. Name’s Eckor. It’s nice to meet such fine, merciful group of people.”
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Randa wipes her blades on the older bandits clothes and stares into his open eyes for a full minute before rising.
" Rabo? Rabo is a plaything for The Lord of Lies now.", she touched her fingers to his neck wound and dragged the twin blood streaks down her left cheek.
" If all the innocents are well, we should try and get across this river now."
"I think it would be better to wait for daylight," Vazo'yn suggests as he removes the last of the smudges from his bandore, slinging it back over his shoulder and across his back.
"It will be even more treacherous to cross in the dark. The way the waters move we won't be able to see the hazards until they're upon us."
He seems uninterested in the last bandit's platitudes and contrition.
Joy clasps her hands as she listens to Eckor curiously, attempting to give him the benefit of the doubt. New dawns were always possible, but still, people were frequently more culpable than they liked to admit...or at least she got that feeling now. It was quite disconcerting to her current self.
Insight: 7+1 guidance= 8
Her gaze drifts to Randa, slightly uneasy. "'The 'Lord of Lies'...Isn't that...?" She doesn't want to say the being's name aloud. "I hope you don't worship him. There are much kinder gods, and you seem like a kind person to care about innocents."
Randa nodded, she often forgot that the others could not see as she could......