"I traveled here to meet you, to see the good your deeds have wrought." Lord Webborn said. "And now I have not only seen those deeds first hand, but been the recipient of their benefit! I am in your debt, gentlemen."
Together the groups returned to Faygrove to treat their wounds. Odmar would need time to recover from his injuries, while Chevelle recovered quickly. A benefit of excessive practice, no doubt.
The body of Owin was left with the healer to properly prepare it for travel.
"I know ye did not know him long," Webborn said. "But Owin of the Green was a good man, and deserves to be returned home."
"He was brave and true," Alart said. "Escorting him will be an honor."
Lord Webborn and his men set off almost at once, heading first to the remains of their camp, then to Duskfair, the home village of Owin. The Party agreed to wait for Owin's body to be prepared and then escort him home.
The journey was easy, along an established path, and pleasant as the Party was not out this day to engage the forces of evil. Nevertheless, Sigwald tensed and grew wary with each bend, valley, or bridge they encountered. His tactical mind seeing the potential for ambush in all places. He was, of course, quite right.
On the approach to a sharp bend in the path Sigwald stopped, his hand raised, saying "Hold!" in a loud whisper. He thought he saw movement in the trees ahead. Instantly the Party was alert, weapons drawn, their minds set to the task only at hand.
From the trees ahead a masked man in blue stepped onto a rock. "Gentlemen, I know not why you have made it your mission to vex me, but vexed me you have. It ends today!" His arm swept forward in a gesture.
At the sign, brigands rushed from their hiding places along the road to engage the party. The clash of steel rang through the forest that was pleasantly quiet only moments before.
Sigwald and Alart stood shoulder to shoulder and held the road against two surprisingly adept thieves.
"He speaks as though we know him", Sigwald spoke between clashing blades.
"Aye," Alart replied, "but never before have I seen him. Though we do know his kind, and how to deal with them!" Alart's blade ran through a brigand as Sigwald's axe cut down the other.
Brold, meanwhile, took on the men approaching through the rough. Fighting back the men that reached the road and taking position on a large rock, he proceeded to lay low all that approached.
"We don't know him", Brold crushed aside a man with his mace. "But he appears to know us. We seem to have garnered a reputation at last!"
A sudden flurry of skilled blows he barely managed to stop forced Brold from his stone hill and back down to the grass.
Chevelle charged bravely against a man coming through the standing stones. With practiced ease, Chevelle bloodied the blade of his foe, and fell.
Two of the cowardly thieves, seeing so many of their allies fall, decided that they needed to be elsewhere quite urgently. This left the masked swordsman standing before the Party in a solitary state.
"Then so be it." The swords man dropped back into a fighting stance, his sword held loosely, angled toward his foes. His skill with the blade had not yet been seen, but his stance alone suggested many years of training. His form betrayed not only skill, but a likely natural talent. The mask hid his face, but not the eyes that seemed to shift and dart, yet never lose contact with the men befo--
Warton lodged an arrow in the man. He collapsed without a sound.
"Aww." Warton's voice carried forward from his place behind the men. "I broke my bow!"
Faygrove
Outlaws Border Dark Secrets
5 4 6
The Border danger decreased as a result of the fight.
Odmar was is recovering from his wounds. He's still out for 2 turns.
Chevell was wounded (of course), and this time seriously. Out 6 Turns.
Warton broke his bow.
Loot:
2 hand weapons, 10gp, and a Pole Weapon.
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