Tarian, the cloak is thick and heavy, and looks like it will likely add some protective layers beyond your standard armour. Although it would make you look bulky, it could help to disguise the armour or any weapons underneath.

Corti takes a step back and cocks her head to one side to look Tarian over, "Well, it works just fine for me, and it's a good idea to keep your weapons close." Corti drapes some fabrics around her head and face, aiming to cover any of the exposed wood or metal of her skin, as well as her sword and equipment. She finishes off by hiding her lute and pulling on a pair of gloves. She does a quick spin for Tarian and then loops one of her arms through Tarian's, leading her back to where they had all been preparing, "I'm ready when you are. I think I can get us to the windmill easily enough, especially with John's help."

Not hearing any additional input from the boys, Thia would wave out to Corti from the cart. "I think we're as ready as we're going to be back here."

"Ready."

With that, you all set out towards the mill in the forest, Corti leading the way with Tarian and little Johnny by their side, Thia, Arc and Brandt in the back. Being a non-combatant, Njalgas remains in the hamlet.

You quickly cover the distance to the edge of the forest, where Johnny says goodbye to return to the hamlet, after giving instructions for Corti to find the rest of the way. From here on in, your group moves cautiously, which slows you down somewhat. It takes another half hour or so, until you start to see the outline of a hill and a crumbling windmill on top of it through the trees and undergrowth. The tower has a rather commanding view of the surrounding area, if it's still safe to climb, and although overgrown on the far side, where the adjoining miller's house has almost completely collapsed, most of the hill is cleared. A whispy column of smoke rising from behind a low wall from what was once probably a small garden outside the house indicates the bandit's presence. Other than that, you see no one around.

You're all still within the forest, the mill laying about 250 yards ahead, on top of the small hill. How would you like to proceed?

Tarian hated walking into gangs’ hideouts. Worse, she hated not knowing precisely what was inside. They had some clues—Belkar had four men and a bird under him, but whether they were all present inside the mill or if there were more than what they were told remained uncertain. The far side of the mill, overgrown as it was, might make for good scouting, but if someone scouted alone, they would be at risk of an ambush. Part of her hoped that someone would volunteer to scout, and the other hoped that no one would.

Tarian’s jaw clenched and she pursed her lips. “We should… probably stay together. Stick to the plan. That’d be the safest, I think. Or, well,” Tarian stared up at the mill, “without knowing what’s in there, we should probably stick together. But let’s see if anyone’s watching for our approach before we just march up there.”

Tarian, you can make out a small, hunched figure sitting on the crumbling platform that surrounds the tower, seemingly on lookout. From what you can determine however, the figure has not recognised any of you. Suddenly you hear a screach, and you see  large bird land near the figure, pecking at the ground. Although giving you a fright, the animal doesn't seem to have noticed you either.

Tarian spoke just barely loud enough to be heard over the rumble of the slowing cart. “There’s a lookout on the mill, on the walkway midway up.” She didn’t indicate the target by pointing, just in case the hunched figure spotted them while she spoke. “Anyone know of a sure way to deal with that quietly?” She looked to Corti. “Otherwise, we’ll be announced when we march up there, and we’ll have to try to negotiate. Or at least pretend to negotiate.”

Corti glances up to the lookout, "I could get them to fall asleep, but if someone else is watching the lookout it'd give us away. I'd have to get closer too. Charming them is also an option, and it might help us out in the long run."

"I can offer to walk up to them as a lost merchant of sort, asking for directions. Not sure how well that would work, but it offers a good distraction." Arc, checks his guns and makes sure they aren't jammed before they throw themselves into the thick of it.

Thia would scrunch her nose. Why fuss over making a plan before we leave, only to change it when we show up?

Hmm. If we have to get closer for Corti to spell the lookout to sleep, we run the risk of being seen beforehand. Having the guard charmed by her might be useful, but I don’t know how useful if this isn’t someone important. And I don’t know what sort of other useful tricks Corti would be giving up if she did that now. Well, at the very least, now I know a few of her tricks. We can try to integrate that into future plans. Charming others might be helpful in getting us to Arceneaux.

As for Brandt’s plan… How could we make it sound reasonable that a merchant arrived here? This is a bit far off from the main road, and with the mill in this state, unused for years, I don’t think there’s much cause for anyone to be coming down this way. Further, if he arrives by himself with no goods, it’d be harder to call him a merchant—unless what’s in this cart is supposed to be his goods—but isn’t the village supposed to be delivering a ransom about this time? What will they do to Carl and Jack if they see some lost peddler before their ransom arrives?

We could send a couple people out to scout while Brandt does this. It shouldn’t be me: a careful ear might hear my chainmail rattle. Corti? Arc? Thia? But then they’d either have to come back with a message while Brandt’s occupying the guard or do a rescue themselves—

There’s too many moving parts to that plan. Too many little things could go wrong. But I don’t know how to reduce it any, and nothing from Arc or Thia. It would have been nice to come up with a backup plan now that we’ve seen something of the situation, but it’s alright. We came here with a plan to begin with, and it could still work. I’ll just have to… trust them.

Tarian set her jaw and drew a slow, calming breath before setting her normal full pace again. “We might end up needing your magic for something else, Miss Corti. And I can’t predict what Belkar would do if he didn’t get at least something from the village before some outsider showed up. We’ll keep to the original plan.” She nodded. “To review, Miss Corti can call out Belkar, and get him to show us the hostages. Mister Brandt’s in charge of the fire team. If you’ve got a good shot at taking out anyone threatening the hostages, take it. Miss Corti and I will keep them away from the fire team.” For a moment Tarian looked worried. She turned to Corti. “But switch with Mister Brandt if you’re wounded. Don’t take unnecessary risks. Is everyone ready?”

"As ready as I can be back here." Thia would look to either two guys hiding in the back of the cart with her to see if they have anything to add. She was trying her best to be patient, the anticipation was starting to build up. She was also starting to wonder if she was better at improvising than planning. She made effort to contribute... Was Tarian expecting more of her?

"Ready." Brandt had been cleaning his gun, taking it apart, putting it back together multiple times over the course of the journey. Not that it was dirty or anything, but giving the mind and body something to do was a good way of keeping anticipation low before a battle. It wasn't his preferred method, but it still got the job done. 

"Ready as ever, Tarian." Corti hops off of the cart and adjusts her clothing once more, bunching it around her face especially, Only so much I can do to hide my face and a warforged is going to look strange out here. Hopefully, they aren't too observant.

"Hold a moment." Arc then summons an Eldritch cannon that he then hides in the foliage. After a minute of covering it up, he nods, "Now I'm ready."

Tarian squared her shoulders and lowered her center of gravity, then heaved forward, hefting the weight of the handcart. She nodded to Corti, then tipped her head back toward the group hiding in the back of the cart. "I’ve got this. You get their attention. Our goal is negotiation for now; try to get some sort of confirmation that Carl and Jack are alive. I don’t know what they look like, but they’ll be roughed up. Carl supposedly went down quick, possibly hit with a rock, so look for someone with a head injury. We don’t know about Jack, but he’s probably injured, too..."

Tarian's voice lowered a bit, as she briefly thought aloud, "Unless Jack was in on it, in which case..."

She shook the thought out. "First, confirmation. Next, assure them the rest of the ransom is on the way and try to get both of the hostages back. Fire team can take out the people actually holding the hostages if they won’t hand them over, while Miss Corti and I keep their bruisers in check. Just focus on staying safe and switch places with Mister Brandt if you think it’s too risky. Our lives are more important than this side-job. Everyone should run if we have to."

Tarian looked up to the looming windmill. "Let’s do this."

As you approach the windmill, you are soon see the hunched figure rise up and, with a short whistle, alert the rest of the gang. As two other people arrive, you see the dwarf on the balcony unsling a war bow, keeping Tarian in her eyes, all the while remaining silent. It is a few moments later, when a large Orc with greyish skin and an older wiry human appear out of the crumbling door of the windmill. The human calls out to you, about fifty yards from the windmill: “Halt! Ah don’ reconize ye... which ain’t good fer ya, since Copper ‘ere’s gunn’ maek quick work o’ ya, if yer not from th’ village. Worse still, ah don’ see any cattle, looks like ya really don’ want yer people back...Ya haf exactly one minit ta explaen wha’ yer doin’ ‘ere without me cattle, ‘fore I start killin’ the two farmers. Drunn!...Get the hostages!”

With that, you see a large human in a tattered uniform dragging two badly beaten humans out of the windmill, both with bags over their heads. You can hear them utter muffled sounds.

Thia, Arc and Brandt, please roll for perception.

Perception: 7

Feeling her heart pound in her chest, Thia would clap a hand over her mouth to remind herself to keep quiet. She'd do her best to focus her senses on what's unfolding outside of the cart rather than how crowded she started to feel inside the cart.

Perception: 17