Gathering Intelligence [Kearn/Saturos]
Aug 10, 2014 12:54:48 GMT -6
Post by Kearn O'Sorley on Aug 10, 2014 12:54:48 GMT -6
Kearn had been watching for a couple of days. Time was running away from him, and he still didn't have a plan he was confident in available for use. He'd been holed up in a tavern, The Weathered Hands, since he arrived. He was here to figure out how Fort Macendew's capture by the rebels was having an impact on the surrounding population centers. So here he was in a large town about a week's distance from Fort Macendew. If you followed the road and moved on horseback, that is. Except, all he could see so far was warnings of increased rebel activity in the area. A few people were trying to stir up trouble, warning folks of bloodthirsty murderers who would kill them all in their sleep if Macendew wasn't liberated soon. "We're next!" they would claim. Perhaps so, but Kearn didn't believe that Sir Kelvin would be the sort to wipe the life from a town like that. Cruelly snuffing a population before moving onto the next wouldn't go well in his legend.
Maybe he was overcomplicating things, Kearn thought to himself. While decently sized, there wasn't a massive amount of security here. The town was not of any particularly great importance. An intersection on a couple of roads? Yes, but both roads were still out in the sticks. It wasn't the heaviest of fortifications that defended them. So, maybe their guardians would be similarly lacking. Maybe, he could just walk in and take what he needed from the guards.... After a bit of sweet talking, of course.
"Okay Kearn. What did you have in mind?" The red headed bard still was busy thinking to himself, idly playing with a collection of long pointed thorns he'd pulled out of his pack. He made a habit of collecting things of use while he traveled. Thorns could provide nasty little surprises at times when they were least expected... Well, how much would they even know here? He fiddled with them, shaping them into a little cluster and winding some twine back and forth tightly around the spikes. When he was done, a little spike ball was in the place where the thorns had been before. Calmly, he dropped it into a pouch on his belt, where he'd put about sixty more in over the course of his stay here.
Standing up from his table near the window and resolving to act rashly, he tipped his bottle back one last time and finished the last swig of the whiskey he'd bought when he first arrived a couple of days ago. Following that, he promptly headed out the door with it, and up to the sheriff's office. Or the local constabulary. Or the brig. Except he wasn't on a ship, so nix that last one.
It wasn't an impressive structure when compared with the fortresses of justice or a king's palace in all the stories. This was just a humble building. Sturdily built to be sure, but with only what looked like a front office, a bunk room, and a few small holding cells near the office. Oh well. It was the bold that Lady Luck favored the most.
He quickly moved through the alleys around the area to get to the back of the prison office, and dropped off a little present there. He quickly took the pieces and components he needed from a couple of small pouches and vials on his person, set them in place, then backed off. It was a functioning mine now. This mix would be more of what he called a "barker" than anything else. It would have a burn, and a very loud bang. He'd set them off by accident before, and didn't envy the fate of the person who discovered this one. His ears would be ringing for hours.
With his exit strategy taken care of, he headed around to the front once more, and barged into the guardshack with his best belligerent expression. The door slammed open so hard that it bounced off it's hinges, and almost knocked into him again.
"Thish ish a holdup! Gimme yur guld and yur boozeeeeeeeee!" Alright. About now, looking into the first startled, then resolved eyes of the guardsman in light armor behind the desk, Kearn was starting to think that maybe he'd made a mistake. This wasn't bold. This was stupid. He brandished the empty bottle in his hand menacingly, leaving the sword at his side in its sheath and completely untouched. Yes, this was definitely about as far from brilliance as one could get. He felt that realization reaffirmed several times over as the guardsman leapt- yes, leapt!- over the table, and took a swing at him. Kearn went ahead and went down on the first punch, and felt the guardsman leap onto him, punching him a few times in the ribs and bloodying him once on the head before realizing that the idiot with the deathwish was already down for the count.
"What the heck!? Hey what's going on in there?!" came from the backroom as Light Armor got off of the rogue.
"Dunno, Swain. Some half-wit with a bottle came in here and started tried to hold us up." Light Armor burst out laughing after he said this, and Swain and a third guardsman came into the front from back room. The groans that Kearn gave out now were not effected as part of his deception. Dammit, didn't need to hit me seven times....
"I don't think he's getting up for awhile. Is he really just that stupid? Here... Help me get his weapons off of him, then we'll let him cool off in a cell."
Kearn groaned painfully as they picked him up, and dropped him on a rag thin blanket on the floor in one of the cells. That could have gone better. His sword and his driver's whip they took and hung on the other side of wall of the main office. Still visible from the cells, but inaccessible. That was ok. He wasn't worried for his exit. Right now, he was going to play the part of the injured drunkard, and lick his wounds. As he turned his eyes over towards the desk, he was happy to see that he at least had a decent view of where Light Armor was reaching as he went back to his paperwork.
"Tony, why don't you head out, and see if you can get a story about a hammered red head heading towards us. Might help us when he comes around, and we're ready to listen."
"Sure. I bet the others would appreciate hearing a little about what they have to look forward to meeting tonight too."
"Hey, don't take too long. Be back in a couple hours"
Kearn collected himself somewhat, still a little stunned from being laid into so quickly. These Bernese didn't mess around before a fight. He caught light armor looking over towards him, before rolling his eyes up in his head and closing them. Oh yeah. Supposed to be passed-out drunk.
Maybe he was overcomplicating things, Kearn thought to himself. While decently sized, there wasn't a massive amount of security here. The town was not of any particularly great importance. An intersection on a couple of roads? Yes, but both roads were still out in the sticks. It wasn't the heaviest of fortifications that defended them. So, maybe their guardians would be similarly lacking. Maybe, he could just walk in and take what he needed from the guards.... After a bit of sweet talking, of course.
"Okay Kearn. What did you have in mind?" The red headed bard still was busy thinking to himself, idly playing with a collection of long pointed thorns he'd pulled out of his pack. He made a habit of collecting things of use while he traveled. Thorns could provide nasty little surprises at times when they were least expected... Well, how much would they even know here? He fiddled with them, shaping them into a little cluster and winding some twine back and forth tightly around the spikes. When he was done, a little spike ball was in the place where the thorns had been before. Calmly, he dropped it into a pouch on his belt, where he'd put about sixty more in over the course of his stay here.
Standing up from his table near the window and resolving to act rashly, he tipped his bottle back one last time and finished the last swig of the whiskey he'd bought when he first arrived a couple of days ago. Following that, he promptly headed out the door with it, and up to the sheriff's office. Or the local constabulary. Or the brig. Except he wasn't on a ship, so nix that last one.
It wasn't an impressive structure when compared with the fortresses of justice or a king's palace in all the stories. This was just a humble building. Sturdily built to be sure, but with only what looked like a front office, a bunk room, and a few small holding cells near the office. Oh well. It was the bold that Lady Luck favored the most.
He quickly moved through the alleys around the area to get to the back of the prison office, and dropped off a little present there. He quickly took the pieces and components he needed from a couple of small pouches and vials on his person, set them in place, then backed off. It was a functioning mine now. This mix would be more of what he called a "barker" than anything else. It would have a burn, and a very loud bang. He'd set them off by accident before, and didn't envy the fate of the person who discovered this one. His ears would be ringing for hours.
With his exit strategy taken care of, he headed around to the front once more, and barged into the guardshack with his best belligerent expression. The door slammed open so hard that it bounced off it's hinges, and almost knocked into him again.
"Thish ish a holdup! Gimme yur guld and yur boozeeeeeeeee!" Alright. About now, looking into the first startled, then resolved eyes of the guardsman in light armor behind the desk, Kearn was starting to think that maybe he'd made a mistake. This wasn't bold. This was stupid. He brandished the empty bottle in his hand menacingly, leaving the sword at his side in its sheath and completely untouched. Yes, this was definitely about as far from brilliance as one could get. He felt that realization reaffirmed several times over as the guardsman leapt- yes, leapt!- over the table, and took a swing at him. Kearn went ahead and went down on the first punch, and felt the guardsman leap onto him, punching him a few times in the ribs and bloodying him once on the head before realizing that the idiot with the deathwish was already down for the count.
"What the heck!? Hey what's going on in there?!" came from the backroom as Light Armor got off of the rogue.
"Dunno, Swain. Some half-wit with a bottle came in here and started tried to hold us up." Light Armor burst out laughing after he said this, and Swain and a third guardsman came into the front from back room. The groans that Kearn gave out now were not effected as part of his deception. Dammit, didn't need to hit me seven times....
"I don't think he's getting up for awhile. Is he really just that stupid? Here... Help me get his weapons off of him, then we'll let him cool off in a cell."
Kearn groaned painfully as they picked him up, and dropped him on a rag thin blanket on the floor in one of the cells. That could have gone better. His sword and his driver's whip they took and hung on the other side of wall of the main office. Still visible from the cells, but inaccessible. That was ok. He wasn't worried for his exit. Right now, he was going to play the part of the injured drunkard, and lick his wounds. As he turned his eyes over towards the desk, he was happy to see that he at least had a decent view of where Light Armor was reaching as he went back to his paperwork.
"Tony, why don't you head out, and see if you can get a story about a hammered red head heading towards us. Might help us when he comes around, and we're ready to listen."
"Sure. I bet the others would appreciate hearing a little about what they have to look forward to meeting tonight too."
"Hey, don't take too long. Be back in a couple hours"
Kearn collected himself somewhat, still a little stunned from being laid into so quickly. These Bernese didn't mess around before a fight. He caught light armor looking over towards him, before rolling his eyes up in his head and closing them. Oh yeah. Supposed to be passed-out drunk.