Though the fest from the baron was nothing short of divine, the dreams I had the night of our return were anything but. I could not unsee the image of Alfredward, hearty and brave, splayed against the wall like a smashed chicken. His innards dripped out of him from some horrific beast or ungodly trap. The following morning I took this omen to heart, my morning prayers were full of nothing but requests for deliverance from evil, and the power to save my allies. Soon though I had little time for meditation as the party concocted a plan to ambush the local bandit populace and claim our new property from the barons most generous decree.
After travelling to the Yeoldelands we found the prices for alchemical equipment outrageously low, and decided instead to keep the set for ourselves. Ultimately however we failed our goal, attracting bandits to ambush us on the road. Instead then we decided to take matters into our own hands. We found a vintage barrel provided by the baron, and filled it with poison wine. There we waited watching the broken cart, wine hidden in the straw, for the trap to be sprung.
Our waiting was interrupted; after many hours, the group of horsemen in the back (myself, Rarder, and Artuza) were discovered by brigands and questioned about why we were watching the car. Luckily I had once been a highwayman before a holy man and had dealt with their kind before. I wove them a story of an “inside man” and how we “set this ambush up.” The knaves seemed convinced and after I ‘chased’ away Boots and Hats I delivered to them the poisoned wine. Delighted with our skills, and needing men, the bandit leader offered us a meeting with the lieutenant of the organization.
After a trek through the forest we finally came across what would soon be ours, a dilapidated and uncared for watchtower. Our horses were stabled and we were taken to this Rudler, our luck quickly waned. This Rudler was a skeptical man, and not nearly as easy to convince as his underling. Though he welcomed us in, he did so with enough distrust to eek Rarder, and it was soon that swords were drawn. After I exchanged harsh words with the man for his misgivings, I casted my spell and spears began to fly. It was truly Artuza however who was the victor here, smashing to bits the poor bandits that rested near her. Finally Rudlers vicious attacks were put to rest though, just as we heard a symphony of footsteps ascend towards us.
What happened next was a blur, after we cut our way through a horde of bandits, two gargantuan beasts covered in muscle and tumor accosted us at the bottom of the stairs. My dreams were all too real, as clubs began sending Alfredward this way and that. Fortunately divine grace showed through, and I was able to heal his wounds right as the last club would have knocked his head clean off! We beat down the Ogres, and chase them out as we set about to reclaim our keep. But what is this alliance with the bandits that these monsters have? And is there more unholy workings than we previously expected?