The guest house is up to capacity by the time Thorpe and I arrive. Ethels mercenaries are packed inside the combined den and kitchen area. All of their eyes fixing on us briefly before turning their attention back to the two [Scouts] sitting at the dining table. Both of them currently in the midst of scarfing down generous portions of food spread out before them.
And they look like they deserve it too. They've been out there for a long time. Covered in dirt and bodily greases. And the smell coming off of them matches up.
Ser Ethel is standing near them in her casual tunic and trousers but with the addition of a thick coat. The [Knight] offers us a smile. "Glad of you to join us. We're just waiting on his lordship."
Thorpe nods as he folds his arms over his chest and scans around the room. "My Lieutenants should be around shortly." He remarks before making a spinning gesturing with his finger in the air at her.
Ethel nods at him and points to Arric across the room who is leaning against the wall in the den area. The [Ranger] lifts a hand slightly to give an 'okay' sign with his index and thumb. Which seems to satisfy Thorpe.
I think I understood most of that. Thorpe was asking about a perimeter check, and Arric gave the all clear. But why did they need to do it like that when we're already in the village?
I raise my brow at the three of them curiously, but they seem pretty locked into the situation currently.
There is some chatter here and there between the mercs, but not of anything important.
Hell, the loudest thing going on right now is Wuinn and Barton voraciously tearing into a roasted pheasant on the table.
But eventually, footsteps echo from the stairs down the hall. Lord Felix and Steppan appear at the bottom before making their way over to join the rest of us. The [Paladin] in his half-set of plate armor, his shield slung over his back via a strap across his chest.
The nobleman is wearing his riding boots, burgundy trousers, and a rather simple but frilly white blouse with lace stitched in as decoration. An ascot tucked neatly into his tight collar. His hair perfectly coiffed.
He spots me standing next to Thorpe and offers me a respectful nod before he speaks, "Are we waiting on anyone else?"
Ethel answers with a gesture towards us, "Auguste's Lieutenants should be here momentarily. That should be everyone."
Steppan furrows his brows and briefly glances at me before looking between Thorpe and Ethel curiously. "Finally decided to bring her along?"
Thorpe's nose wrinkles and he responds with a low grunt, "Yeah. She's essential personnel. Best she be given the full scope of things before we start making big moves here."
Steppan smirks with the corner of his mouth before offering a nod to me. "Glad to have you, Miss Liore."
I return the smile to him, my cheeks warming with slight embarrassment. "I'll try not to be a bother."
Lord Felix humphs at my response as he takes a seat at the head of the dining table while the two [Scouts] continue scarfing down likely the best meal they've had in a week. "Do not speak so ill of yourself. It is unbecoming."
My mouth shuts tight, and I stand a bit straighter. "Yes, my lord. My apologies."
The nobleman waves a hand dismissively as Ethel sets down a teacup on a small platter in front of him before pouring him a cup from a tea kettle she had been keeping on the stove.
While he is adding cream and sugar to his tea, the front door opens to let Walt and Ahmir in. The two of them remove their helmets and fuss with their slightly sweat slick hair.
Walt gives me a nudge on the shoulder in greeting before looking up to Thorpe. "Left command with Monica and Ed for the mo, Captain."
Thorpe responds with a thumbs up before nodding to Lord Felix. "That's everyone. Let's get this over with."
The nobleman reaches out to Ethel who hands him something I haven't seen in a while now. A cantrip scroll. This one having a white ribbon tying it tight in the center.
Lord Felix simply takes the scroll by either end and tears it in half, causing the scroll to fall apart in both of his hands. A sharp ringing stings my ears briefly, but it subsides quickly.
I look around in confusion, wondering what spell just went off. I ask Thorpe next to me, but I quickly realize that my mouth is moving, but no sound was coming out. My hand instinctively grabs Old Guard's belt in panic as I wonder if I've suddenly gone deaf.
He turns to look down at me with his brows furrowed, but then his expression quickly changes to realization before he smiles and mouths something slowly. I can't hear it, but I think he is trying to say, "Won't be long."
I don't have time to wonder what he means before my ears ring again and sound returns in a crash that makes me jolt in surprise. The voices of the mercenaries around me clear now as they call out to one another.
"Can you hear?"
"I can hear, I'm good."
"Who else still can't hear?!"
"Teller and Clive here can't!"
Ser Ethel gives that last man who spoke a thumbs up before she leans down to mutter something in Lord Felix's ear. And after a few seconds, the two men who had been pointed out finally nod and raise a thumbs up. "We're good!"
Thorpe gives me another look and points to his ear. "Can you hear me?"
I nod quickly, beginning to realize what that spell might have been. At least the basic idea. But I don't have time to confirm before Lord Felix begins speaking.
"Alright! We have ten minutes. Let's make this count." He calls out, turning his attention to the two [Scouts]. "Go on with your report."
The woman, Wuinn, swallows a harrowing helping of mash potatoes and licks the spoon clean before she turns her chair towards the nobleman. "Mr. Thorpe's guess was correct. There's about a dozen and a half holed up in a cleared-out wolves' den about ten hours northward, near the edge of the meld. About an hour's breadth of the plains easterly."
Thorpe's hand rests on my shoulder as my guess from a few weeks ago is proven correct. Which I should certainly feel proud of, but the idea that so many [Bandits] were hiding out near us for so long doesn't fill me with anything but dread.
Lord Felix threads his fingers together in front of himself. "What is their composition?"
Barton clears his throat while wiping away a few spots of sauce from his greasy lips. "Most of them are low bit clanners. But we did see a handful, maybe three or four, who are likely the surviving Brigands from the ambush." He details tiredly, keeping hold of his knife and fork as he starts cutting up the rest of the meat on his plate into shreds. "They all had short bows. So probably [Scouts]. None appearing to be a [Ranger] at least. But they were camped outside the cave a few meters away."
The ground seems to mull that over for a moment until Thorpe speaks up. "Sounds like they might not be so united. Any flashrods on the clanners?"
Wuinn grimaces and nods. "Aye. A couple of the long ones. Several of the smaller one-handers. Three of those were on that [Highwayman]. We spotted him a couple times while we were watching them. He'd leave for quite a while. A couple days at a time. Don't know where he was going. Didn't want to give away our position, but he was gone by the time we decided to leave."
Old Guard groans and shakes his head. "I hate that. A lot." He admits with a long-winded sigh, propping his hands up on his hips.
Ser Ethel nods slowly in agreement. "Do you think they knew you were there?"
Wuinn and Barton both look towards each other for a moment before both shaking their heads, Wuinn answering, "Doubt it. They certainly didn't look to be in a playful mood. We caught a few of their conversations and it sounds like they're planning to attack us soon. They were packing up battle bags and the like."
Steppan growls at that. "How soon?"
She shakes her head, "Don't know. Professional opinion, probably sooner than later. They seemed antsy about something."
Barton reaches into a pouch on his side and pulls out a folded parchment that he unfolds and lays out onto the table after Ethel and Thorpe clear a few things to the side. The male [Scout] smooths out the parchment and weighs down the corners with cups and dishes. "Got a sketch of the area from our vantage point."
The sketch is surprisingly good as I get an angle on it. Looking like it was pretty hastily drawn first but cleaned up after. Their vantage point appears to have been within a root hill in the meld. Basically just a mass of usually dead roots. Maybe an empty jackalope burrow. The view seems to look down towards a decently sized camp of five tents with a few scratchy pencil figures within. And off in the background is a large cave opening in another blunt root hill where a few crates and travel packs are sat outsides.
Several in the group mutter to one another as they get a peek at the sketch. Thorpe letting out an impressed hum. "Nice work on that. Any other entrances you noticed?"
Both of the [Scouts] shake their heads before Barton answers, "Anyone that went in only ever came out the same way. Doubt there is another entrance."
The [Knight] folds her arms over her chest, looking like she is considering things. The room goes quiet for a brief few moments before she looks over to Arric. "What about our 'guests'? When did you see them last?"
Arric is still leaning against the wall near the den. He reaches up to scratch his scraggly beard. "This morning. And they were in the pasture earlier this afternoon, watching you and Miss Liore spar. After that, they split up. One went back into the forest and the other is in the village. Probably watching us right now."
My eyes widen at that. Because that is definitely not something I knew about. "Wait. What? How—when did they..." I stammer out, my voice trailing off as a lump forms in my throat.
Thorpe gives me a reassuring squeeze on my shoulder. "They've been here for a while. But we didn't want to draw attention to them. They've just been watching us while the rest of their group is away. Arric has been keeping tabs on them in case they tried anything."
A grimace sets hard onto my face as a wave of disgust passes over me. The idea that I've been watched by them is not at all sitting well with me.
I honestly feel sort of violated. That is definitely something I would have liked to know beforehand. "Why didn't you tell me?" I ask Old Guard quietly.
The old man gives me a pained look in return, but takes a deep breath and answers. "Like I said. We didn't want to draw attention to them. If they're keeping people here to watch us, then they obviously still want something from us and see us as a threat. So it's better that we don't spook them too much until we need to."
Lord Felix nods, turning his head to look towards me. "And we did not want them to break off contact with their informant. As they would likely try to kill them."
"Their—informant?" I ask, my attention instantly focusing on the nobleman. "Someone in the village is…?"
Lord Felix lifts a hand in a calming gesture. "They are not doing this willingly, as far as I can tell. It appears they have been coercing Mr. Wyatt rather violently for quite some time. Likely since the beginning, in fact." The nobleman adds to my steadily increasing horror. "He has been the one carrying out the salting of your fields in their stead. We have found some empty sacks with leftover salt sand buried behind his cottage."
My stomach drops hard enough to make me take a step back. Realizing now that I haven't actually seen Mr. Wyatt in the last few weeks. All I heard is that he got hurt pretty badly when that [Highwayman] escaped. Momma said he's been recovering in his cottage since then.
I shake my head slowly in disbelief. "They—they coerced him?"
Old Guard nods solemnly. "Yeah. From the looks of it, he's been taking a lot of punishment for the failure too. Since our fields haven't entirely died out like they had planned."
My stomach lurches at that. "Because of me..."
Which Thorpe immediately shakes his head and stares at me sternly. "Don't start. None of that is your fault, ya big dumby."
The light jest lifts that sinking feeling that just started to deepen again, letting me take a deep breath. "Right. Please continue. Don't mind me."
Lord Felix offers me a grateful nod before returning his attention to the group at large. "All things considered, I think we can move forward with the current battle plan. Any objections?"
""Nay."" All those gathered respond.
I take another deep breath and try to focus on listening to the plan now that I'm being allowed to be apart of it. I certainly wasted a lot more time than I wanted to there. So I will try to save my reactions to new information for after the briefing.
At least if I can help myself. I knew I was probably going to learn some stuff that I wasn't aware of. But you can only prepare yourself so much for new information.
I can't believe I nearly let myself spiral like that again for something so stupid. It's still a shock to hear that Mr. Wyatt has been the one doing all the [Bandits] dirty work, but I can't blame myself for him getting hurt by them just because I caused their plan to fail without me even knowing how.
It still sucks to hear that he's suffered for it so much. He already hasn't had the most positive life from what Momma said. But I can't let that drag my mood down. I need to have my wits here.
But even as I'm calming myself down, I'm still getting this weird nagging feeling that I've missed something.
Lord Felix, Ethel, and Thorpe are going over their plan for a counterattack. And pretty much everyone is paying attention to that.
Everyone other than Steppan, who matches my gaze when I notice him glancing across the room at me. A confused and slightly pensive look on his face.
And for a long moment, he just stares at me. Causing me to raise a brow at him and mouth, 'Are you okay?'.
Which he doesn't respond to for far too long, but he eventually nods and turns his attention back to Lord Felix. Leaving me just as confused as he looked a moment ago.
Something was obviously bothering him. But I suppose I can just ask him afterwards.
As for now, the attack plan means more to me to hear.
I already knew a blunt idea of it before and hated it then.
But boy do I hate the sound of it even more now…