4. Fog of War.

Lord Tom Collin:
Lord Tom Collin looks outrage and shouts mainly to himself, "They wouldn't not DARE!" Seeming on a que, bandit Johnson is in the tent with weapon drawn.
Collin turns to Johnson, "Call all to arms. We leave in two hours." Wordless Johnson leaves the tent while sheaving sword.
Collin looks to the three, "What to do with you."

Geoffrey Moonstruck:
Geoffrey, intuiting that matters are reaching a head, finishes his wine and takes the opportunity to nourish himself. Who knows what Collins has in mind for them? Almost anything is better faced without hunger pangs.

---

Moments later Hanson & Grog, drag in Cosrath. He has metal restraining helmet that instead of a lock holding it close, it has cheap piece of rope but it is tight enough that Dragonborn Cosrath can breath and his hands are tied behind his back. Hanson sneers, "Found sneaking into the camp." and Grog in a bit of reminder to Hason, "A new guest."

Grog stands Cosrath up and moves him to Lord Tom Collin. Tom draws out his longsword that has gleaming edges and slices away the bonds holding Cosrath arms like butter. "Go to them and I will deal with all four of you." He motions to the others at the dinner table. Cosrath can easily undo the rope holding the iron helmet and free his head.

As noises grow closer to the tent entrance, Geoffrey looks over just as one of Collins’s men lead in yet another poor soul. This one was different, though, very different. Geoffrey knew of the Dragonborn; in his years of study and searching, the rare draconic texts he found and deciphered proved very informative. However, he had never seen a Dragonborn in the flesh—in the scales?—before. I wonder what this soul’s story is.

The white-scaled dragonborn quickly shakes his arms free once Tom cuts the bonds, though a small chain remains wrapped around his left forearm. Seems like it's his, as he snatches the rock crystal dangling at the end of it and grasps it tightly.

He turns his head in the direction of Tom Collin's voice, then deftly undoes the ropes with his free hand. Silver-blue eyes peek out from under the helmet, rather than the typical red or gold of dragonborn - first looking at Tom and his longsword, then the bandits that had brought him in, then the three visitors.

The dragonborn hugs the helmet close to his chest as he slowly backs away from Tom to join the others by the dining table, not sitting down or saying a word yet. His posture suggests he wants to run, but he doesn't. Perhaps from being afraid to do so, after being captured so quickly.

Davros smirks at the whole scene You know, were kinda like flies, gathering at this table one by one.... he laughs to himself thinking about the whole situation of people arriving while Tom was dining.

He then stretches and thinks out loud. What about this master Tom, how about we join you with the whole orc ordeal, I bet from your reaction that you're going to at least demand an explanation, right? he raises a brow in a suggesting manner. I cannot speak about the other two, but me and my friend... nonchalantly gestures at the half-orc would be interested in helping you out on the matter. Of course two men compared to your army is nothing, but, all of us are interested in settling this matter as soon and efficiently as possible...so would you graciously allow us to join your banner for this cause? he suggests, obviously leaving Tom the role of decision-making and authority to the bandit captain.

Geoffrey watches the dragonborn's entry. The colors of my lady, silver and blue. This is a good omen. I wonder how he is called? Davros's speech intrudes on Geoffrey's reflections.
As Davros finishes his remarks, Geoffrey turns to him. My apologies, what ordeal do you mean? It seems you have had an entire conversation with our gracious host prior to either I or this gentleman, here Geoffry turns and nods at the dragonborn, of which neither of us had the benefit of hearing. All I know is that I agreed to provide the aid of Our Lady of Silver to anyone facing the terrors of the night—the orcs. Geoffrey wants to do his level best as to not antagonize Lord Collins any further. He hopes emphasizing the orcs makes that clear.
Granted, I am at the disposal of our host, but wouldn't it make sense, master woodsman, to bring the two of us recent additions up to speed?

Garrosh turns at the 2 newbies and snorts "You overestimate what you've missed. Long story short, we found an orc-raid survivor while coming here, sent her to town, got captured, and it looks now there's going to be fight against the orcs because of the raid. We do not really know the details, besides that."

Lord Tom Collin has another one of those distance moments as everyone was talking. You hear my mumbles the words "Lady Feymore" as he rushes to the tent flap leaving. You hear him shout from outside "Johnson. We leave now!", "Grog take of the guests."

Moment later bandit Grog appears with shortsword drawn but not really in a very hostile mode. He has just stopped and looking at all four of you. He is caught in mixed emotions but strangely hostility isn't one of them.

Everything seems to have become an emergency. Tons of noise and even horns going off.

Thank you, Garrosh was it? Geoffrey says.

Turning to the Dragonborn, Geoffrey suggest You may want to grab something to eat and drink. Moonmaiden only knows what will happen now and when we will be able to eat next. My name is Geoffrey, Geoff for short. With whom do I have the privilege of speaking?

The dragonborn hesitates for a moment, then responds, "Cosrath."

Cosrath glances at the food, but still doesn't eat. He jerks his head in the direction of Garrosh, after hearing his summary of the events so far. "So. You are the ones the Burgermeister sent out first. I thought there were more than three that hadn't returned to town yet."

"Anyone facing the terrors of the night? It's not just anyone. Lady Fermore's gone missing, and you brought back her daughter and the dead bodyguard. Didn't you?" He nods towards the entrance of the tent, indicating the commotion outside. "Of course there's going to be a great fuss over the Lady. A real high ranking noble. The kind with lots of money or connections, or both."

"The bandits killed a few of us. Besides that though, that was a noble family that got attacked? But the carriage looked more like one belonging to a merchant, and there did not look like there any guards traveling with them. Were they traveling incognito or something?", asks Garrosh

Listening to the conversations, Geoffrey does some mental calculations. Oh dear Lady of Silver, how ill-informed is that wretched burgermeister. Sending me out here without any hint of the complexities of competing bands of marauders and the tragic deaths of local nobility. I wonder how he keeps his position with such rank incompetence.

Geoffrey looks at Garrosh and says, In my travels, Garrosh, I have found that many people tend to downplay their status and wealth when traveling in dangerous areas. No point in handing out engraved copperplate invitations for others to kill them, you know, he says with a smile. Regardless, at this point I do not believe we have any free agency; we are subject to whatever Lord Collins, or his aide-de-camp Grog, has in mind for us.

Turning to Grog, Geoffrey asks May I know your intentions with us, please?.

Young Grog says, "This sucks. I'm stuck here babysitting all of you and I could be out there rescuing. I'm to keep an eye on all of you and not let you out of my sight." He signs. Obviously, a man missing his chance for adventure. He doesn't appear to be exceptional bright, but obviously loyal to Tom Collin. You can hear the sounds movement and informing horns.

Davros relaxes into the chair and and sighs lightheartedly while looking at the top of the tent. Well, a good problem is a one that solves itself. So... I have nothing against it. he then looks at the disappointed youth and sighs But you know, your master didn't say anything about babysitting us here exactly, how about each of us promises to be a good little guest and we all joyfully follow Toms group? he laughs under his breath intrigued about the decision of the underling-in-charge.

Youthful Grog seems to be perplexed about that thought. "If Tom saw me with all of you out there, he would have my hide, but I could see the lady FERMORE! They say she has given land on whim."

Geoffrey looks concerned as Davros talks. He interjects let me understand this, Davros. You wish to follow this group of ban—. Here, Geoffrey coughs, obviously considering that Grog is still in the room even though Collins has left, mercenaries into battle, notwithstanding that they disposed of two, no make that three of your companions without a second thought mere hours ago? In the fog of war and the thick of battle you want to be possibly between them and their objective? That does not sound most prudent.

Furthermore, you may not have to like, or approve of, Collins, but he does not strike me as someone ignorant of either tactics or strategy. Moreover, from our discussion, it is amply clear that Collins is a man who detests being gainsaid, let alone the implication that he is not at the top of his game. Showing up in contravention of his orders isn't wise at all. I counsel we let not rush pell-mell into potential suicidal situations. If Collins feels it is in his best interests to use our services, I am sure he will ask—nay demand—their use at the risk of a rather discommoding alternative to our general well-being. Geoffrey stops, fills a goblet from a carafe of water at the table, and downs it in a few gulps.

"Geoffrey makes a good point, but it might be worth to at least get to where we can see the fight, that way, on the off change the orcs are winning, we can consider interfering. What say you Grog? This could be your change to be a hero after all." asks Garrosh

While looking at Geoffrey doing his monologue Davros stuffs his pockets with some bread and fruit. Giving him 'the bruh look' when he mentions that he wants to stick his nose in the midst of the battle, does he really look like that much of a fool to that man? Eh, who cares...

After Garrosh's words the forester beams in happyness That's exactly what I wanted. Garrosh, my friend I'm slowly starting to believe that you're a mind-reader....Now, come on, ideally the massacre will be already over, but stuff your pockets, a good show is better with some snacks! he then turns towards Grog So, we're waiting, honored babysitter.

Now that all the bandits are out of the tent except one, Cosrath drops the restraining helmet into a corner of the tent and returns to standing, a bit less tense.

He looks at Garrosh and Davros as they try to convince Grog. The dragonborn doesn't quite smile with his mouth, but the shape of his eyes suggest approval of this plan - he'd like to get out of this place too.

Unsure Grog ponders the thought a moment and says "I do know a rather unused way into the Orcs."

Geoffrey shakes his head ruefully. If this is how I am meant to finally greet you, Night White Lady, then so be it. Now I must do my part to convince the young thug. I would like to go on record that defying a mercenary captain—Geoffrey was not going to use the proper phrase, "murderous bandit thug leader", so long as one of the thugs was in the room—is not a good idea under normal circumstances, let alone during a battle.

Geoffrey looks at Grog and continues, however, the captain clearly has confidence in master Grog here, and has afforded him the authority to "take care of the guests", as he said. If you feel that taking us to a position where you are able to watch over us yet may be able to help your master, so be it. Turning to look pointedly at Davros, Geoffrey concludes After all, we are only four and there are at least twenty of you in the camp, and we know what happened the last time you were attacked by a smaller force.

Geoffrey then utters a stream of liquid syllables.