Immersive Ink

tombowings wrote:
Flewellen begins to bandage up Taines.

coffee wrote:

verhaden wrote:Mads the Fair

"I say we blindfold the prisoner and take him somewhere more private. We're sitting ducks out here, as we showed these hobgoblins. Let's get Taines bandaged up, see about giving our fair maiden a proper funeral, and for heavens sake..." He reaches out towards the Boson and takes away his whip. "Prisoners should be tied up, not armed."

And if the boson gives him any grief about this, Dieter will give him a little jab with his sword. Not enough to do more than about a point of damage, if that, but surely enough to make my meaning plain.

waysoftheearth wrote:
With Dieter and Olaf glowering over him with weapons drawn, the Boson doesn't offer any resistance when Mads strips him of his whip and talks about binding him.

In fact, most of the rope was left in storage in a cell in the dunjon. Ulric's silk rope was used to bind the prisoners taken at the ruined keep (and still binds two of them). So the only other rope at hand is Dieter's 60ft of loyal silk rope (his boon). He shrugs it off his shoulder without lowering his sword point, and hands it to Mads who proceeds to bind the Boson tightly with it.

Meanwhile, Flewellen assists Taines by washing down his bloody belly with cold water, then splashing the two deep gashes with a shot of strong brandy and padding them with clean fabric from his supplies. He then wraps the full girth of the hairy Dwarfish belly with some bindings to hold the cloth in place. Taines grunts and mutters, but eventually closes his armour over the wounds and pulls himself up.

"I've had worse," he lies stalwartly.

After his short rest and treatment Taines is feeling (1d6=5) a lot better. He now has 6 of 12 hit points.

waysoftheearth wrote:
While all this is going on, Ulric sits himself down to recover from his own near death experience.

After rubbing down his hurts, Ulric finds (1d6=3) the wound to be far more superficial than he at first thought. He takes a shot of spirit from his flask to steady his nerves, straightens his robes, and is soon on his feet once more.

Ulric now has 4 of 4 hit points.

waysoftheearth wrote:
Mads and Dieter are on 3 and 4 hit points respectively. Are they planning to rest here too?

coffee wrote:
Once the prisoners are bound, yes. But not until then.

waysoftheearth wrote:
The Boson is tied with Dieter's loyal silk rope. The other two prisoners are tied with Ulric's silk rope.

Taines and Ulric have rested while Dieter and Mads were busy with the Boson.

You are standing on a muddy rural roadside near the beginnings of some construction work and diggings. You are surrounded by a litter of gory slain bodies and discarded weapons and tools, and you have three prisoners. It is gone mid-afternoon, and there is a chilly wind gusting.

What next?

makofan wrote:
Caine says "We came here to get rich. I think the good stuff must be underground. We should head back to where we were.

verhaden wrote:
Mads the Fair

"Yes, underground." He muses. "Rodrick's body is still there. We should continue as we planned. I do not know if pyres are acceptable to elvish custom, but we could remember both him and the fair maiden." He moves to collect the elvish woman in his arms, despite the strain, and begins walking back to the Keep.

"I'll rest once we're back. Then we can interrogate this hob' back at the camp."

Edit: Mads would have also retrieved his weapons.

waysoftheearth wrote:
Mads retrieves his weapons as he speaks, then picks up the fallen Elf maiden -- her body is unexpectedly heavy with all the armour and other gear she was carrying, so Dieter carries her pack.

Olaf tugs holds the Boson's leash, and Taines pulls the other two prisoners along as the party trudges back up the hill toward the keep. It seems much a much further climb than you recall, for you are all tired from your ample exertions this day.

"Hail the party," yells Victor from the tower top as you approach to ruinous keep, and soon all of you are within the broken walls once more.

You see immediately that Victor has arranged the bodies of the slain hobgoblins into a neat row in the courtyard and prepared a very modest pyre of twigs and brambles, with a clutter of hobgoblin spears, knives, shields and helms at its foot. "I couldn't find much decent wood," he explains gruffly, "and I fear much of this here is too damp to burn easily."

Rodrick's body is still inside the tower.