Hush kicks the spear away from the guard and moves over to the wilderling. As he approaches, he reaches into its mind to comfort it, "Stay calm, friend. We'll have you out of those binds in a moment." He pulls a blade out and cuts the rope, freeing the captive.

Lazarus approaches the Spear. He holds his arms wide, showing he is unarmed. 

"Fellow, you're a long way from home. Far from your beloved friends and family, who may never see you again. I would advise you to remain still and answer our questions, if you do not wish this cursed forest to be your grave. 

Derek adds for the spearman's benefit, "Should he get a grave. We dare not tarry to bury these men. Buzzards and jackals must eat, same as the worm." Derek moves to search the corporal's body for any information such as orders issued or possible camp locations.

Perception: 10

As he does so he calls out to Hush,  "Can you still travel friend? That is a nasty wound."

The Spear goes pale, uncomfortably swallows, and nods his head towards the unsettling Human before him. 

Hush successfully untangles the Wilderling - you can now see him as a male Elf with coppery-bronze skin and shoulder-length hair. He looks in rather terrible shape; a lip is busted and one of his eyes is swollen shut. Multiple scrapes and lacerations cover his arms and exposed skin. Upon Hush freeing a gag across his mouth, he spits out what looks to be a chipped tooth, and immediately begins profusely thanking the party. “I do not know by what fate you have come to my rescue. My name is Gaz, and I-”

The Imperial soldier immediately sits up, and stares fearfully at Gaz, voice breaking as he continues. “Don’t trust him! The Sergeant at Camp Laurade gave us the order to capture an Outcast fugitive that was stirring up trouble with the Zavas - the man’s a murderer, he’s killed dozens of people!”

Gaz laughs. He sits down to untie a cord around his ankles, and continues. “Your Imperial leaders have you fooled. I do not blame you.”

He turns to the party. “I am the leader of a band of Outcasts known as the Morning Flute. Put simply, we are a small militia dedicated to ousting the Imperial worm infesting the Wilderness. Our goal is to drive them out of the country. My radical ways have outcast me from the Zavas when the Imperials took over - I was too much of a threat. Now, they label me as a terrorist. I was off my guard for just a second, and I was captured.” He strolls around, lifting a sword and a pair of armor from the fallen soldiers. “I thank you for liberating me. If you need our aid, we will be happy to help, but for now, I must head to my group.”

The soldier sputters. “He’s lying!” 

Derek, you find a note that corroborates with what the Soldier is saying. In scrawled handwriting, it details an ambush of a grove near the Pakora territories that Outcasts were rumored to use as a meeting grounds. It calls the Elf you had captured a savage and a cruel killer of the innocent. It looks like these men were only following orders. Additionally, you find 2 Gold Pieces and 26 Bronze on the various corpses that are laying around.

Lazarus shurgs. Truly, he didn't care whether Gaz was a murderer or a freedom fighter. Probably a mix of both-  he had no doubt the Elf had killed many innocents in his quest for freedom. He turns to his companions. 

"What should we do with these two?"

Derek sets a stern look upon his face as he directs his gaze on Gaz. He says, "Tarry a moment Gaz. We five need a quit word. Would you keep an eye on the surviving soldier?"

Derek turns to the others as he asks,"Do we try to reach the Zavras or do we wish to contact the Outcasts? Gaz can probably assist with the latter."

Holden walks over to the group after collecting himself and cleaning his axe. Catching just the end of the conversation, he says “I would prefer to talk to the Outcasts first. If the Zavas are truly under imperial rule, we should avoid their land at all costs.” 

Derek nods as Holden finishes speaking. He says,"I too would prefer to avoid the Zavras and their Imperial allies. The Outcasts then?"

Lazarus holds up Old Grey's letter.

"Aren't we supposed to deliver this to the Zavas?"

“Right,” Holden says gruffly under his breath. “I had forgotten about that.”

"Besides," Hush says as he brushes off his clothes and rolls one of the guards bodies over after searching it, "One man's killer, is another man's freedom fighter. They both can tell the truth, just from different sides. We should continue on with our prior travels to deliver the old man's letter though. Perhaps the end point will offer some answers to our questions."

DM screen:

 As the group is talking, a distinct metallic chink courses through the air, shortly followed by a pained gurgling sound. Turning around, you see the Imperial soldier bleeding out from a deep gash in his throat, and a soft pattering of steps can be heard somewhere in the woods, but the direction is not quite ascertainable. Gaz has fled. 

Lazarus makes no move to engage with the assassin, trusting the others will do so. He kneels by the dying soldier, saying, "Hush hush now. You're going to a better place, where there is no Wilderness, no Wildings. Death is not that bad, you see."

As the Spear bleeds out, Lazarus tries to figure out if there's anything that could be done to stabilize him. 

Medicine: 9

Holden will look around for anybody else other than the party nearby 

Perception: 4

Lazarus, for a moment, you're able to staunch the bleeding, but the Spear softly sighs and ceases to breathe, his pulse stopping.
Holden, you're not able to perceive if anyone besides the party is near you, but you can notice it approaching noon.

Where's the party headed?

Hush stands up, looking back and forth down the path the group is on. "Well, maybe we drag these off into the forest off the path a little and then continue on our way to deliver the letter?"

Watching from afar, Luxaene watches the proclaims of the Wilderling being a terrorist and a liar through narrow eyes. The suddenly fleeing of Gaz snapped her silent judging to a conclusion that she doesn't entirely disagree with...

"Making our way to Zavras only makes sense now. Gaz seems to have to plan for us to catch up, it seems. Perhaps strip the soldiers of the their belongings? It would only hinder them rejoining the earth below and dead men not need sword or armour..."

Lazarus stands up and brushes off his hands. 

“I agree. Let’s go to the Zavas.”

Between the few members of the party, you strip the soldiers of their armor and weapons and proceed to drag them into the forests next to the path you are standing on. If any of you would like, you have taken the time to thoroughly search each soldier's belongings, finding three sets of bad-quality leather armor, three dilapidated-looking spears, and multiple vestiges of camping equipment. On the Corporal lies a Chain Shirt and an average-looking shield. Additionally, you find 5 Gold Pieces, 23 Silver Pieces, and 4 Bronze Pieces, and 6 days of Rations.

On your way to the Zavas, those who have frequented the parts will begin to see familiar territory. Hundreds of years of traditional Zavas druidcraft and farming techniques are evident; Pumpkin and berry fields are strangely entwined with the surrounding woods, creating an odd mottled canvas of colors. Mushrooms grow heavily in the more shaded thickets, and the smell of earth and growth permeates the air. After a while yet of walking, you begin to gradually notice the first signs of Imperial rule in the Zavas tribe; technology and equipment passing from the Imperium accentuates the traditional Zavas lifestyle more and more evidently. Trellises with Pumpkin vines arch over the pathway, and the sound of muffled voices, humming machinery, and axes hitting trees can be heard. Eventually, you see the first settlement of your stop; a wooden outpost dots the side of the trail, and as you come to view, two Spears in moderately well-kept armor exit, waving you down. 

"Who goes there? On what business must you enter his majesty's Imperial-Zavas territories?"

Luxaene's heart dampens at the sight of the evidence of Imperial way of bountiful life creeping into Wilderling culture that survives the ages and beyond. As she done before with the elders, she numbed her thoughts, and whatever else they brought with them, and spoke up meeting the eyes of the Spears, "Well met. It is good see you are keeping things in order. We are a band of sellswords. Stricken with unfortunate luck, we have lost what little we had to a Greyhide. We only look for a simple night of not on cold ground and warm food."

Roll: 4
Deception (+3)
Persuasion (+5)