A new day for The Outriders (dnd ttrpg PM Siobhan before joining to see if she can handle another)

Nuada keeps his eye averted from the magistrate and waits to hear what is required.
 
Tamrick frowned, still not thrilled to be playing up to the magistrate even if Ingrid was right about the need to do so. He pushed down his qualms however for her sake. She was willing to overlook the magistrate's officious attitude and play up to his assumptions, the least he could do was follow the plan.

“Yes, Magistrate. I hope you will forgive my earlier silence during proceedings, but I find it useful to listen and get the measure of a man before I step up to deal with them.” Tamrick moved smoothly forward, pushing Ingrid aside as though she meant nothing and was inconsequential to proceedings. He hoped this would play up to the Magistrate's expectations and leave the man feeling like they were on the same page.

“Naturally, I am most keen to secure the plantation promised to me and my followers.” Tamrick made sure to cast himself as the leader of the band as he spoke, referring to everyone else as his followers seemed the right course for playing up to the man. “I am, of course, more than willing to help you out with your 'little favor' since you are going out of your way to help me. But, I hope you will understand my desire to hear what the favor is before committing my company to the task. Perhaps you can tell me how I might be of service to you before we shake on things. I want to make sure your favor is one the Outriders can reliably perform for you. I shouldn't want to leave you disappointed after you have been so hospitable.”

Tamrick stood with back straight as he awaited the Magistrate's response, hoping he'd made the right moves and said the right words to procure the man's good opinion. He chanced a glance to Ingrid, Trilan and Tiyak, hoping they would approve of his handling of things.
 
Nodding, the man looked around. He seemed more at ease with the hierarchy worked out "You seem a capable lot, and Sir Vartan was always a friend of the community. This is civic minded, but it does benefit me in particular." he shifted uncomfortably "This is a land of old gods. Both the ones worshipped by the Sultanate and mystery cults that were old even when Krakydos was young. Some of those gods lived long enough, kept on even after their worshippers were gone. Rather than fade away they turned to darkness, becoming corrupt, reaping souls and promising power in return. There was a goddess of fertility in this region, Eresh. She has become a demon, Erash, and she promises youth, beauty and sex to all who worship her. This is no joyful celebration of life but a nihilistic and soulless pursuit of meaningless pleasure. her cult raises its ugly head now and again, and recently they've taken some of our young people. They've been camping in the nearby wilderness. My men reported a fire nearby." This might explain the banked fire found earlier, after all.

"My son is among them. They've gone to the City I think. There will be an underground temple there. A fleshpit reserved for the foulest of practices, I want you to rescue as many of our young from the clutches of this cult as you can. But you must bring back my son. Though I've others who will inherit my name and lands, his mother is my favorite wife and it would break her heart if he were not returned. I implore you, return our children and I will see to it that the will is resolved in your favor. This will give us all an out."
 
Trilan's frown softens. This sounds like a worthy goal, although he'd hope they would verify the insidious nature of the cult. If the magistrate is correct, then freeing these wayward souls from a fiend so base as to use the beauty of something as pure as sex to corrupt would be a boon to the world indeed. He refrains from nodding, and turns his head toward Tamrick while sneaking glances at Ingrid to take in her reaction.
 
Tamrick felt his body tensing as he heard out the Magistrate’s predicament. A demonic sex cult? It was his sacred duty as a cleric of Sinvarlo to uproot and purge such debased and unholy cults wherever they materialized in the world, but he also knew his old masters would not want him anywhere near such temptation.

Of all the vices that could tempt a young cleric away from his god and temple, the vice of lust was feared most of all. It was to be expected. Any order that forced chastity on their acolytes was bound to leave their young priests hungry for that which was denied them.

Were they still in the North, Tamrick would have been expected to report this cult of Erash to his temple and they would have sent older more experienced, and hardened clerics to combat the scourge.

But they were not in the North. Tamrick was alone. And worse still, he knew he was still caught in his crisis of faith. Was now really the time to pit himself against a demon of lust? Once more Tamrick felt that rising suspicion that he had been abandoned by Sinvarlo, thrown to the wind, and left with only the hope that some other deity might look down on him with pity, give him something to fight for again.

But prepared or not, Tamrick felt it was his duty to help here. He might not be acting in Sinvarlo’s name, but he still felt the need to protect and help others.

“Cults like these are dangerous, especially to the young. Lives and potential can be lost when a soul is conditioned to care for nothing more than chasing the next pleasure. For your son, but also for the other youths ensnared in this cult, we will help you.”

Tamrick knew he might be overstretching his authority. Though Ingrid had encouraged him to lead the negotiations with the Magistrate the others in the group would surely have their own ideas on how or even if they wanted to proceed. But he couldn’t let a problem like this lie.

“If you can give my company a chance to adequately rest from our long journey and if you can offer any aid in arms or armor to help in this endeavor then we will gladly stand against this scourge and bring back your young folk.”
 
Nuada moves close to Ingrid and in a very quiet voice "Might there be a price of the heads of the cult leaders? Am sure the nobles would be glad to have them cleared out"
 
Ingrid nodded at Nuada. Not only was it a good thought it was a great one. While some would be more interested in the return of their family, there'd surely be those in the government or clergy who had more permanent solutions than rescue in mind. "I would definitely keep an eye out for any ringleaders" she said to him, quietly, not wanting to give any impression to the magistrate she was in charge. It was too good an idea to not acknowledge though "the company can use the cash"

The magistrate sat back, dabbing at the brow beneath his turban, clearly somewhat relieved they accepted the proposition. "I see no reason why you shouldn't have full use of the plantation while the inheritance is being worked out. I invite you as well to register for the troubleshooters guild. This will allow you to do work for hire that isn't full scale warfare. You can do freelance or work for magistrates and constabularies. I'll send someone by with the appropriate paperwork. Tomorrow I'll have someone guide you to the City and perhaps put you in touch with the constabulary there to see what leads they might have." He wrote out an order granting the group possession of the plantation as a temporary measure "My attache, Khemal, will take you to the grounds."

The group was ushered out swiftly, and were taken on a long journey through the hills to the south of town. They came to the edge of an area that they thought was wilderness, before they saw the fencing overgrown with weeds. Khemal shifted a bit "the plantation fell on hard times a few years ago and Vartan lost his supervisor. The place has sat fallow. Locals creep in to steal the coffee cherries now and again but its largely derelict" He opened a gate and led the group up to a large villa. There the party could see large fields covered in shrubs that Khemal explained were an inferior species of coffee that was hardier and easier to grow but not as well regarded for flavor or complexity. At about 500 feet of elevation the party could see fruit and nut trees, and Khemal explained that the more expensive vines grew in the shade of those trees.

The villa itself was caked in dust, having been abandoned for years. It had clearly been looted as well, and nothing of value seemed to remain. One point of interest, however, was a hot spring. Khemal led the group up through the hills to a large bathhouse, fed by an underground hot spring. The building seemed to be in good repair "some of the locals have been using it" he explained. "Vartan always let them, if you want peace in town you should probably continue the practice."
 
Trilan kept up with the group's leisurely pace, taking in the rustic charm of the villa. The landscape was beautiful, and the estate had quite a bit of potential. He had no doubt Ingrid would have the place profitable in no time. And having it available as a retreat and a sort of forward base for whatever trouble he and the rest of the company got up to would be a boon, especially after seeing that bathhouse. It was hard for Trilan not to toss his traveling clothes off and splash into the water in the middle of Khemal's tour. You'd never know it looking at his face, though.

"Was the supervisor the only staff, Khemal?" If there were more, he'd like to meet them. It never hurt to befriend the staff.

Even before the attache could answer, Trilan had another question. "Oh, does terlach grow well in this climate? I haven't had coffee in the Krakydosi style since I left home..."
 
Nuada trailed along at the back of the group, taking in the scenery and eyes lingered on the bathhouse , there was always the chance of a pretty face and a random encounter . But not he thought so far out of town.
 
Tiyak wandered away from the group. Feeling a bit more comfortable closer to nature rather than fully indoors. He began to looks for a place to set up his own small camp. Finding a place near a small stream, likely used for irrigation on the plantation, he staked his claim under a small grove. He brought within the caravan, a few long cedar poles and hides enough to wrap them, leaving a small opening with stone toggles and leather straps. He padded and placed his bedding and few possessions inside before building a small circle of stones. He gathered some fresh herbs and a few ripened coffee beans. With a small wooden bowl and a smooth round stone he carried along with his provisions, he ground his findings, before drawing water from the stream. He sat listening to the spirits and the sounds of the land. It was peaceful here. Now at least. But there was an odd silence to the property. There had beef blood shed here before. And lots of it. But this was not strange to him. You’d be hard pressed to find any settlement devoid of struggle, at least in the early days. The spirits in this section at least seemed agreeable to his presence. He sipped the brew of the land and waited, and listened.
 
As the group explored the bath, they found it in good repair. Some of the men milled about outside, and Tiyak, from his position by the stream could see a group of women coming down from a wilder part of the plantation. They seemed strange, dressed in clothes that seemed almost leafy. They possessed an otherworldly grace and beauty, and that grace and beauty soon enough lured the men of the company away from the bathhouse and the officers within. Sounds of merriment could be heard, and tiyak could see the men shedding their armor and weapons as they followed the strange women deeper into the wood and away from the safety of the group.
 
Tamrick had been mostly silent during the tour of the villa. A part of him remained a little on edge around the magistrate’s assistant, feeling a need to continue to play the part of ‘leader of the group’ in case Khemal reported back their observations of the meeting to their master.

This led to Tamrick being quite quiet during most of the tour, taking in the lay of the land and thinking of its potential. The place was in dire need of work and maintenance it seemed. It would take time to restore. But, like a diamond in the rough, Tamrick felt like he could see the potential of what this plot of land could be. And when the bathhouse was mentioned as something that routinely brought in locals he felt like he could see how this place could become a true center for the community and that place of rest and relaxation for tired warriors Ingrid had mentioned before.

Tamrick had been so lost in his imaginings that he realized almost too late that he had not been speaking.

Unaware of what the others were doing outside the bathhouse, he moved closer to Trilan and Ingrid.

“You know, this bathhouse could be the key to restoring this place. If the locals are already using the place to sneak off to, maybe they could be persuaded to donate to the restoration of this entire estate. Perhaps not an admission charge… I doubt they would like to see a place Vartan let them visit for free suddenly forcing them to give up coin. But maybe if we can ingratiate with those who come here, and tell them about how we intend to improve and rebuild the plantation, they might consider making donations to improve the quality of the bathhouse they are already enjoying. If they learn we will repair the cracks and turn one of the nearby rooms of the main house into a lounge they can frequent… with drinks and food… Sell them your dream for this place and I believe the townspeople here might well wish to help you make it a reality so long as they can continue to enjoy it,” he mused.
 
Nuada sheds his cloak and frees his daggers as he moves to the door. In a low voice he says trouble
 
Trilan’s head pops up in surprise. “I’d love an answer on that terlach root, but it seems we may be needed elsewhere for a bit.” He readies himself to follow.
 
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The party made their way up the hill, following a trail of discarded weapons and armor. The trek was perhaps a half mile over rough country, with the dense undergrowth that had sprung up in the wake of Vartan's neglect hampering their movement in a way that didn't seem to bother their quarry. The fruit and nut trees that were part of the plantation gave way to more wild trees near the top of the hill. A circle of trees stood up ahead, with a stream and small waterfall spilling down over a cliff by the path. As the group made its way up, quiet enough to not be detected, they saw the missing men kneeling in the center of a grove. In the middle was a woman with hair the color of the dark leaves of the trees and skin the color of bark. She was comely, unearthly in her beauty. Gathered around her in a pond formed where the spring left the hill were four like her, each holding a leash around a man from the crew. She regarded the men as she walked among them, brushing her hand through one's hair. he moaned in pleasure at her touch but her lips were twisted into a mask of discontent. "Interlopers." she hissed at them in the common tongue "What brings you to defile this place? Humans have been gone from these hills many years."

She twirled an obsidian dagger in her fingers, brushing the edge along one of their cheeks, shaving a bit of hair from his cheek. She and the other nature spirits seemed distracted at best. Further, the woman seemed to have not made up her mind about harming the men. They seemed happy to be on their knees, at the very least. There was a rustle in the trees, as if blown in the wind, but there was no breeze. Just the hot southern sun beating down. Any discussion would likely be heard unless the party moved down the path a bit, but for now they had options.
 
Trilan pulls out his spellbook and looks the rest of them in the eye. He doesn't want to rush in unless they're on board, but he's ready to start flinging spells if they are.

Then, he pauses, wondering if a diplomatic solution would be an option. Shrugging, he decides to go with the group. The worst option would be for them to be on different pages.
 
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Tamrick stared at the creatures that had captivated the members of their crew. Try as he might, he could not think what these beings were, but their power to enchant and lure men so that they would fall on their knees without fear of the obsidian dagger in the one creature's hand was worrying.

Without knowing what these creatures were, the cleric's mind inevitably moved to thoughts of the cult the Magistrate had mentioned earlier. The demon at the heart of that cult had taken young men folk from the nearby village. It was possible they had come out as far as the plantation to ensnare more souls for the cause.

The cleric gritted his teeth, looking to the others and wishing he could speak. But the risk of being overheard was too great. The creature holding the men ransom could speak common... but it had also been able to charm the company with ease. Who knew if speaking to the creature would open the rest of them to the same corruption?

With too many unknowns, Tamrick did the only thing he could think of at that moment. He kept his shield ready and his grip on his mace sure. He looked to the others, hoping his stance was a sure sign he was ready if anyone wanted to make the move to attack. But since he couldn't be sure what these creatures truly were, he would let someone else make the final call.
 
Nuada casually moves to stand closer to Trilan , starts to tell a very rude joke about a cleric a dragon and princess , and starts to scan the area for anything out of place.
 
As might be expected, the very rude joke travels through the air and alerts the dryads to the presence of the party. Each dryad presses a dagger into the hand of the man she has in her thrall, and says "defend me" before retreating into the center of the grove. The men take no hostile action against the party, but each enters a knife fighter's crouch, one hand out to ward off blows and the other gripping the blade. The move into a loose formation around the Dryads, keeping an eye out in each direction. Despite the lack of breeze, the trees rustle in agitation, birds flee the shaking trees in an explosion of flight, momentarily darkening the sky.

The fifth of the Dryads shifted her stance, seeming to push her toes into the earth. She swelled in size and strength, her bark colored skin taking on a rough texture, long slender fingers taking the form of claws. Still, she did not leave the grove.
 
Trilan's mind has been running, trying to come up with a way to save theese men and make it away unscathed. When he hears the words "defend me," he hopes he has it.

He pops up, waving his arms in front of the armed and charmed. "You heard them, friends!" He points back down the hill, and starts turning to run that way. "The dryads need defending! Come with us, and we'll show you who they need defending from!"

He points at the remaining dryad. "I'll put her in stasis to keep her safe while we go defend them!" He pulls out a small, straight piece of iron and mutters under his breath, hoping that the spell works and the men don't interpret it as a threat.
 
Tiyak had followed the party to the nearby grove, moving quietly in their flank. Observing from afar he readied his bow. His eyes went dark as he raised his face to the sky. An eagle passed soundlessly gliding high over head. Tiyak watched through the sharp eyes of his totem spirit and awaited the next actions.
 
Trilan smiles as the dryad is frozen in place. "Come along, men!" he shouts. "Hurry! We must protect the dryads!" He turns and runs back down the hill.
 
One of the four dryads responds "you can't defend us from down there that's stupid." and there is a chorus of agreement among her sisters. The men look back and forth between themselves, Trilan, and the dryads who respond "Seriously just stay up here, what are you going to do with a dagger... down there?" So far none of them seem to have noticed the frozen nature of their leader.
 
Trilan stops and shrugs, turning to the group's cleric, relatively unfazed by his unsuccessful ruse. "Well, shit. Tamrick, you've been our talker so far. Want to see if they'll listen to reason?"
 
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