[VP Event] Bandit Raids

"What did they get?"

The young guard sat down heavily on a crate.  Weariness made him look much older than he was.  "A pig.  Couple sacks of grain.  Mykael's weapon."  he rubbed his eyes.  "This is the third raid this week."

The older man sat down beside his young friend.  "Aerin, what are we going to do?  The town guard is less than half of what it was, and what we have left is either greybeards or children."

Aerin seemed to stare off into space for a long moment.  "I don't know.  I doubt the Captain knows either."  He shrugged.  Even that small gesture took enormous effort.  "I seem to spend my days freezing my balls off waiting for someone to crack me over the head for a loaf of bread.  Jed, I don't want to die for a loaf of bread."

Jed sighed.  "How is Mykael?"

"Two cracked ribs.  He'll survive but he'll be laid up for weeks."

"He's one of our best guards."

Aerin nodded.  "What are we going to do?"

Both men sat in silence.  Neither had an answer.



Success in this event will give a PC 1 VP toward their personal goals.  If you accumulate 5 VP in these events, you will gain 1DP to either keep, invest, or buy off a disadvantage.


Choose one of three options:


Option 1:  Rally the Smallfolk

Raise the morale of the Smallfolk and ration current supplies.

Persuasion/Deception (Charm, Convince, Act): TN 12
Will (Co-ordinate): TN9
Language (Common): TN9

6 Successes gives you the Trait: +1 Disposition with Smallfolk on Marsten lands.


Option 2:  Fighting stealing with stealing

Steal back the stolen supplies.

Thievery (Steal):  TN12
Stealth (Sneak):  TN9
Will (Courage):  TN9

6 Successes gives you the Trait: +2 to Passive Stealth in non-urban areas.


Option 3:  Protecting the Lands

You may attempt to patrol the outskirts of Marsten lands.

Fighting or Marksmanship (any):  TN12
Endurance (Stamina):  TN9
Survival (Orientation):  TN9

6 Successes gives you the Trait:  +1B to Orientation tests in non-urban areas.


Event Reward: Gain 2ss per success (modified by Status).

To gain a VP you must achieve 3 Successes on one of the three rolls and 6 successes overall.
.

Curse this damnable snow. And may the pox take these thieving brigands. Regyn had followed the lead of some townsfolk into the godforsaken wildness where one of the drunk men had mentioned trading some of his seed grain for firewood with a rather unsavory group.

if I was back in Myr I would have had someone else do this rotten work. But things being as they were he was not in Essos, let alone Myr. At first Regyn thought the snow was beautiful, white blanket covering the ground and dampening the noise. Regyn did not understand the grumbling of the small folk who came to the tavern, pounding white powder off their shoes and coming to listen to him play.

Now he complained twice as much as the small folk. For with the blizzard came the drying up of trade, and the loss of traders coin, tea, and spices lent even more insult to injury.

So now he found himself in the middle of a forest, following a path easily marked with sign, once you knew what to look for. Clutching the threadbare cloak around him he muttered to himself in disgust at having to leave the relative comfort of the inn. But the brigands had come and taken the last of the potatoes and maze while he pretended to sleep by the he cold hearth, threatening the innkeeper with brandished rusty weapons.

Regyn knew if he did not get those sacks of potatoes back his arrangement with the innkeeper was for naught, as their would be no food to go around.

The innkeep had hinted as much.

As he approached the bend he began to see the light from a fire. His keen eyes caught the shadow of movement, but the shadow appeared to be more concerned with keeping its fingers from going blue then what was happening in the woods.

Regyn moved silently as a shadow, a skill he picked up from two lifetimes on the streets of Myr. He was not as lithe or silent as he once was, but the country bumkins we no city watch of Myr either.

now what was that woodsmen saying?

Doubly important in times like these,
to keep your food up in the trees.
Unless you would rather be lunch,
Because bears certainly enjoy the crunch

Regyn shivered at he thought of the bear crunching on his bones. He had seen one once in Myr, spent a whole copper penny on it, as he had a bet that the was no such fantastical creature as a bear. How did a thing be larger them a man, with teeth and claws like knifes.

To this day he still heard the crunch of bone from the dogs, even if he was not close enough to see it.

He continues onward, going in circles around the camp until he finds where the thieves had hung up their ill gotten goods. And to his surprise there was a quarter of deer hanging up with the sacks of potatoes. Smiling he untied to knot and brings his prize down slowly, thankful that the snow had already been knocked off the branches. Wrapping the goods in his cloak he stealthily moves away, giving the camp a wide berth as the cold wind clutches at his arms with sharp nails, but also causing the whispering trees to cover any sounds of his escape.

Making it back to the inn shivering with cold, Regyn smiles.

Today was a good day.

Rolls:

Crouching on a rocky outcrop, Luke looked down at the young man.  Tears rolled down the bandit's face as he frantically tried to free himself from the bear trap his leg was caught in.  He looked up terrified at the crouching predator and panicked even more.

"Please don't kill me.  Please!"  he moaned piteously.

Doesn't look like I'll have to.

"I'm not going to kill you."  Luke replied.  "Stop struggling.  You're just making it worse."

"You're not?"  The young man wiped his running nose with his sleeve.  "You killed the others."

Luke looked back at the clearing where two bodies lay.  "I didn't kill them.  You did."

"What?!"

The ranger shrugged.  "You ran.  If you'd stayed, the three of you would have bested me.  Once you were gone I could concentrate on the other two.  If you'd stayed, your friends would be alive and I would be dead.  Since you ran, I am alive and they are dead.  So... I didn't kill them.  You did."

The young man stared at Luke for a long moment and then burst into another bout of tears.  He helplessly struggled with the bear trap.

Luke rose and stepped off the rocks, lightly landing before the man.

He's kind a good looking, in a pathetic rat in a trap sort of way.

Stop that.  You always do that.

This was no bandit.  Just a desparate young man.  "I said stop it.  That's meant to hold a bear, which you are not.  There's a trick to it."  Kneeling down, he pressed the catches on either side of the trap.  It opened easily.  Pulling out his knife, Luke cut away the tattered pant leg and examined the wound.  After washing away the blood with snow, he pulled out some ointment and bandages and began to tend the injury.

"You're helping me?"

"Looks like it.  No-one else around."

"But we tried to kill you."

"They tried to kill me."  Luke replied.  "They failed."

"You were coming to kill us."

"I came because I'd been watching your meanderings for hours and you looked lost.  I came because you're in the heart of shadowcat territory."

The bandit's head swiveled wildly at the mention of the dangerous hunting felines, looking for where they may be hidden.  "You weren't coming to collect a bounty?"

"No."

"So they died..."

"For no reason whatever.  Congratulations."

As realization dawned on the young man he burst into tears again.  The weight of what had happened, the knowledge it hadn't needed to have happened, and the crushing burden of his struggles were all too much for him.   Luke respectfully ignored his sobs as he dressed the leg.

"You will have a scar, but the leg's not broken.  Should heal fine.  What's your name?"

"Teagyn."  he sniffled.  "... and thank you.  You're very kind."

"Odd thing to say to someone who just killed your two friends."

Teagyn paused for a moment, wiped his face and collected himself.  "We probably would have died anyway, eventually."

"Probably."  replied Luke matter-a-factly.  "Everyone does, eventually.  Stay here."  He rose, turned and scrambled up the ridge to the clearing.  Quickly, he stripped what little there was of value from the corpses and returned to Teagan.  He tossed one of the men's heavy wool cloaks to him.  "Put this on.  We are far from Hartshorn, and with that leg it will take a couple days to get you there."

"I doubt I am worth much of a bounty."

Luke looked at Teayn and shook his head.  "What?  You think I am going to waste two days helping you hobble to town just to turn you in and have you executed.  Don't be an idiot."

"You're not going to turn me in?"

"No."

There was a look of dumbfounded shock on Teagyn's tear-stained face.  "What will you tell them?"

Luke put the young man's arm around his broad shoulders, put his own around the man's slender waist and hoisted him to a standing position.  "I'm not going to tell them anything.  What you tell them is your business."

Rolls:

"Easy on, lads.  There it is."  Nevermind the one saying 'lads' is half the age, or less, of the men he's ordering about, it's just what sounds right.  Sandy-haired Ser Garlan has a sack over one shoulder, himself, taking a turn in the line that's hauling the grain and other food into the back of a wagon.  Giving a little grunt as he tosses his sack into place, the steps back out of the line and gets back to overseeing.

"Winter's already come, no rush.  Take it slow, keep an accurate count, and nobody turn an ankle, yeah?"

He clambers up the wagon-wheel's spokes as he chatters at the guardsmen, hauling himself up higher, so the smallfolk can see him.  Too many have already seen the armed men seemingly taking their food, he needs them to know why, and to stop their muttering and dark looks.

"Hullo!"  He begins cheerily, one leg over each side of the wagon's high back as though it were a horse, but hardly looking very lordly just then.  "I want you all to know the Maester's tended to Mykael, and he'll be just fine after some rest.  We've seen to it he's got light duties for a bit, giving him a chance to mend up."

Thumbing over his shoulder at the line of men -- moving in an orderly line, keeping a careful count, not turning any ankles, doing just what the young Ser said -- and the filling wagon, he gives another of his sunny smiles.

"And we're gonna keep this from 'appening again.  We're storing less of the provisions out here, and more of 'em in there," he nods towards the looming walls and immeasurable strength of Hartshorn.  "We'll leave all these raiders less to eat on and come after, afore we go rooting the buggers out.  More of the foodstuff'll be kept secure up there, and we'll be bringing it out to you, under guard, and distributing it according to what th'Maester says you'll need."

It had been a logistical knot, but one that was untangleable.  The guardsmen could be seen as providers, not just protectors, if they distributed food, the food would be safer and more secure, and the smallfolk would draw less attention from the brigands.  Rotations and patrols needed to be stepped up to handle the extra work, but Garlan had helped to make it happen.

He hauls himself up, running one hand through his blonde hair as he takes in the state of the wagon.  Instead of complaining, though, he just talks to the smallfolk over his shoulder as he climbs in all the way and gets to work himself, instead of ordering a soldier to do it.  He's got some growing still to do, but that doesn't stop him from heaving around the heavy sacks and the handful of crates, grunting as he does.

"So we'll see you again...oomph...soon, and have fresh loaves of bread t'hand out, when we do.  Maybe...nngh...some salt pork, or just nice sacks of oats you can make up your own minds how to fix, as...you...please."  He straightens up, looking down at the neater, more compact, wagon, casting a glance at the line of troops behind him -- almost done taking away a full three-quarters of the stored food -- and down at the hungry, cold, smallfolk.  He doesn't use words like 'ration.'  He's careful not to.

"We'll be back.  We'll keep your food safe, and we'll get patrols together to get the men that did this, in the meantime."

Another smile, turning his clear, good, eye towards the crowd.

"I swear it by the Seven.  We'll do better."

rolls:

Ronnel goes to the tavern, that's where most men will be.

"Ah, shut up fat man.  You think we don't do our share?"  Feldridge is well-know to Ronnel.  The man is oft at the infirmary begging remedies for his hangovers.

"I did not say so, Feldridge.  What I said was that the guards are in a bad way.  We need to fill the ranks and help stop these raiders.  I have treated your families and brought your babes into the world, but that is my job, that is what I do.  But these raiders, if they keep getting away with our goods, well I will have more people to tend to and less supplies with which to do so.

So I am asking you to form citizen patrols.  I have sent a message to the captain requesting that he put one of his men with each squad so you have some authority to act when needed.

The Lady does the best she can with the people she has left.  House Marsten has protected you well and given you a good life for the most part.  now it is time to return that favour."

Rolls:

“We’ll be watching yer back Harwin, you’ll see. These bandits messed up something bad they did.”

The older man grunted in response, keeping his eyes on the terrain. Both of the younger lads were green as the freshest summer grass but there were always uses for an extra set of hands. Foraging for food or firewood, caring for the gear, or watching the horses were all tasks that needed doing too…as mundane as they seemed.
 
They’d broken off the main road and from their patrol to scout a game trail. On foot they'd trekked slowly and surely along the trail till its end and now they pushed forward a bit more. Harwin didn’t know the land well here, being new and all but he’d spent a fair amount of time outdoors and did his best to keep them from getting lost.

“Karl, Mace catch yer breath for a bit. Yer panting like dogs and like to let anyone know we’re coming. I’ll venture abit further ahead and if there’s nothing here…well we’ll start the trip back.”

Mayhaps it wounded the lad's collective pride a bit but it was clear they needed the break and they weren’t too proud to take it. He nodded to them and started forward doing his best to traverse the snowy terrain and not tire out himself.

He heard the rustle of the bolt’s flight a second before he felt its impact near his shoulder. The aim was fair but his armor served him well. Anger propelled him forward and he charged the bowman he now saw in the distance. The pumping of his own heart's blood was so loud he couldn’t think clearly but in these moments he rarely had to.

It ended swiftly even with the snow making it more difficult to cross the open ground. The crossbowman had fled to fight with his fellows at their camp as Harwin had closed the gap. Now three bodies lay on the ground savaged and still, while he cleaned his greatsword in the nearby snow.

“Eh Harwin that you?” Karl and Mace took in the scene uncertainly, mayhaps a bit sickened with it or just upset to have missed the conflict.

“Found our bandits or they found me rather. Same difference in the end really. Let’s gather up what we find and head back lads.”

In the end they found what they’d expected to…a remainder of the missing food stores, a shield bearing the lightning bolt of House Marsten and a goat.

They coulda chipped in with honest work in town and gotten enough to survive in return…if not as much as they’d like. Aye desperation may make a man consider banditry but its selfishness, greed and laziness that push em to act on it more often than not.

Rolls:

Accompanying a relief wagon after the raids, Lady Corrine, dressed simply, not wanting to seem like she was descending from an ivory tower, handed out supplies to the smallfolk, comforting those who had been worst affected by the bandits. She listened to them with empathy, and swore to them that she would do more to help and protect them.

"As Ser Garlan says, we'll send more patrols, we are going to keep the stores safer, within the castle walls, where no bandits can get them, and we will be back soon with more food," she announced in the town square, with much of the town huddled around. "And what's more, I am temporarily waiving the tax on gathering wood, so take what you need without fear of it costing too much. Stay warm, stay safe. We will get through this together."

Rolls:

Rolls:

(ooc: Good RP incoming)