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Everyone looks to the one guy who’s been on the army, who shrugs. “They’re like hellknights, right?”

The rest of them do not like that answer. Not at all!

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The pretty Galtan doesn't like that answer either, but he's used to hearing it by this point.

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"In some but not most regards. They serve the Law, but they also serve the Good, and take on many vows to be worthy of the power they are bestowed, and seek to protect the innocent against the forces of corruption and destruction, instead of the Hellknight's desire to sacrifice the individual for some greater purpose. Ser Sebastien has taken on a vow of honesty, and sworn to uphold justice in Cheliax. Several years ago Ser Sebastien traveled from Galt to Molthune to join the Glorious Reclamation, an order of paladins, knights, and volunteers preparing for a war to liberate Cheliax. Now that the war has been won and the government is being reformed, they are taking on many roles once performed by infernal appointees from Egorian.

But you can rest easily; we are not infernal magistrates seeking to turn your words against you. Rather, we seek to understand what happened and why, and from there decide what should happen next. Many things that are forbidden in the general case can be nevertheless be accepted in particular cases. In that light, I must ask: is there anything I should know about your conduct, or that of your band, since this decree was issued?"

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The distinctions between different kinds of knights of the law mostly goes over their heads. But if these are the ones fighting off the usurpers, working with the True Duke Who Is Returning to Pardon Everyone (and maybe restore the old families to their lands), they understand that.

One of the younger men is a bit worried to hear the paladin is a galtan, he knows they are always quick to behead everyone. Though, at least it’s better than a real execution. 

They all look to the old knight, who gives a nod. “Tell him.” With that, Fraga and Sebastien learn the details of a couple months of outlawry.

A couple traveling merchants robbed, with a couple of their hired guards  killed. They actually had some help from a nearby village with one of them— a merchant particularly hated for being tricky with debts and raising the prices. A group of serfs and halflings making a run for the city— ambiguously robbed. The woodsmen did escort them to the county line, but raised the price for protection halfway through when it turned out one of the halflings had jewelry pilfered from its owners. There’s also the asmodean cleric they slowly killed with her own portable torture kit, but there’s no way that’s a murder. 

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They listen patiently, and then have two follow-up questions.

"Had you seen the text of this decree before now? When did you receive news that the Thrunes were overthrown?"

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“Haven’t seen it before. When did we hear queen Abrogail lost to queen Aspexia, or when did we hear Aspexia wasn’t a Thrune?“

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"If those were different days, both would be helpful to know."

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“We heard there was a new queen, almost a month ago. When word got out that her adventurers murdered the count— not Fernando, the other the count— but they would go free because the new queen pardoned all crimes. We didn’t believe that part because they said all sorts of things.”

”First heard she’s no Thrune, that was today.”

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The paladin and the Duke hold a brief conference held via Message. The extenuating circumstances are clear, but also they are--or at least were--barely distinguishable from bandits. 

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"Very well. In light of the late arrival of believable news, and your long service in opposition to the Thrunes, we find no punishment necessary. However, you will not continue as you have been; it is a new dawn for Cheliax, Fraga, and these woods. You will no longer obstruct peaceable commerce along this road; you will instruct any of your men who participated in torture to see Ser Sebastien for spiritual counseling; to the extent that is practical you will make restitution to those who you have stolen from; and we will discuss tonight the futures available to you and your band.

Let us break bread together. Send word to your camp that they are invited as well."

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The (barely distinguishable from) bandits will cheer at the news of (what sounds a lot like) a pardon. Making restitution does not bother them, basically all their loot gets traded for food anyways. The phrase 'spiritual counseling' does bother a couple of the men, who whisper to each other nervously. The one who grew up in a village with a priest knows what spiritual counseling is gives the other some advice on what to do if it's hot irons and what to do if it's pliers. 

The old man quiets the cheers and whispers with another cough. "Yes your grace." 

He rises to his feet and picks couple men to follow him back into the forest, to drag the rest of the woodsmen back here. The other two, the young knight and an older bandit, stay and break bread. Sitting together and eating with these foreigners, they can almost believe that this isn't a trap. 


Not everyone follows Andrés III and his banner, back out to Fraga's roadside camp. Four of the bandits and a couple camp followers would rather try their luck as outlaws, hiding in the woods or making a run for a city where no one knows to look for them. The majority trust Andrés, though, even if "the true duke coming back to pardon everyone" still sounds unbelievable. At least, it does at first. Seeing the army with their proper banners and shining gear, joining them for the evening meal and talking, it starts to seem more believable. 

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There's plenty of clean water to go around, sparkling and clear, and they have a cleric who manifests more as the mugs and carafes go dry. There's bread from the last village they passed through--a day or two old, and so slightly stale, but better than hardtack. (And with prestidigitation on hand, it can taste like whatever you like.) Now that imminent hostilities are off the table, they tap one of the barrels and start passing around mugs--not enough for anyone to get drunk, but enough to relax a bit. There's bacon frying on the camp fire--more to create a smell that pervades the scene, than to actually serve the fat and protein needs of this many--and the beginnings of a larger fire to roast something more substantial.

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How about a whole deer?

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They'll take it--but again, a hundred men is a lot, and the duke has a retinue, and they have guests. That's a bit more than a quarter pound of meat per person.

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Curious, he'll intermix with the Woodsmen and listen excitedly to their stories.

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She'll take her dinner in the carriage, thank you very much, and wordlessly insist on the rest of her children doing the same.

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The woodsmen drink carefully, taking light sips and sharing suspicious looks. None of them say it out loud, but they are not ready to let themselves get off balance. There is to be some breaking bread, drinking, and merrymaking, but restrained.

In addition to the small group of fighting men, the camp has some women and children. Most are guarded, trying to avoid attention from any strangers. However, a couple bold youths mingle freely and fish for stories about faraway lands. Can Absalom really sail around the sea like a boat? Are the streets in Oppara really paved with gold? Did Andoran really abolish all laws? 

The Woodsmen tell their own stories, though they steer clear of recent events. Instead, they spin a tale of the Chelish Civil War, and that one battle between the Duke's men and the Thrune traitors. The way they tell the battle, noting each of the old family ancestors, their specific part in the battle, full of heroic charges or last stands... it's easy to forget for a moment that Fraga lost that day. 

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He begins dinner with a prayer to Erastil, and then circulates; alternating between attentive listening and proficient storytelling. Fighting demons in Mendev, solving crimes in the River Kingdoms, delving into monster's lairs in Galt, a childhood spent on the road with his father that left him more comfortable in camps than cities. He knows some of the old stories of Fraga as well, and whenever someone mentions a knight ancestor he can chime in with some other tidbit about the man--where he was from, what other exploits he was known for, or even just their heraldry.

Once he's done the rounds, he returns to del Bosque. "I still have almost all of my spells, and sleep better if I've spent a few in service of the realm. Are there any monsters in your woods, which you would hesitate to clear on your own but we might make short work of?"

 

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The old knight sits up, the hint of a smile crosses his face. "The hunt."

With a wave of his hand, he calls a couple lieutenants over. First is the chaplain, who has spells left but seems to be hiding his holy symbols. Second is the most woodsy of the woodsman, a gruff looking archer and tracker who knows all the nearby monsters. The worst of which is some invisible creature he calls "the breath eater". It ambushes people in the woods, kills exactly one person, then disappears. He knows it lairs by an old standing stone, but doesn't have enough magic to see it, much less kill it.

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He's a duke; he knows a thing or two about invisible creatures, especially ones that might get summoned by a wizard to kill their rivals. But unfortunately this means scouting is dangerous, and there's always the chance that this is the servant of something worse that's out there, tasked with keeping nosy outsiders away from the front door. But if so, better to knock on that door than leave it as is.

The second challenge is that it might simply escape, and they'll spend hours tromping around in the forest instead of heroically solving problems together. "Do you think it is territorial, or would we scare it away if we approached in force?"

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The ranger thinks. “I know it doesn’t eat, never seen any sign of it hunting and foraging. So no reason for it to hold a territory. But it goes back to the same spot when it isn’t killing.”

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Well, they'll see what they can manage. He quickly arranges his men; Melina will obviously come, as will the paladin and cleric. They'll bring double kit (crossbows and pikes) for two subsquares. Both he and the wizard will have a scroll of glitterdust--better to not have to use it and save it for repelling an assassination attempt, but also better to have it if needed then not. (He'll default to casting spells fresh, but if the wizard goes down he's the backup.)

The plan is simple. Once they get close, Felip will do minute buffs on Melina, whose keen ears might be able to hear it before it attacks, and whose bow can likely deal it significant damage. The forest provides cover--but also underbrush and trees that a corporeal invisible creature will have to push out of the way with its movement. The skilled retinue, including their local guides and anyone who feels sufficiently adventurous, will be immediately behind, and then followed by the squares a bit behind. (They can't be too far behind, or the monster descending on them might be able to steal someone's breath before they can arrive on the scene, but they can't be too close, or they'll interfere with the hunt.)

Some summoned celestial wolves will help them notice and track the creature by smell--but since they last for less than a minute, their main value will be provoking it into attacking, he suspects, rather than a sustained hunt.

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Andrés III will join the hunt; the old man is much more vivacious in armor with sword in hand than he is in conversation. He brings a few of his best fighters as well. The ranger and the young knight both seem nervous about actually fighting this monster instead of avoiding it. The chaplain is confident in his spells, though fiddling with the holy symbols in his pocket. The one most prepared is the man who was almost in the army; they drilled him in not breaking while the wizards and demons fight, this should be the same. 

They all seem more comfortable with Duke Felip and his followers during the planning than they did having dinner. Discussing what they know about the enemy, who is going to use which spells, positioning and maneuvers...  small unit tactics is a common language.

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