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"If we plan on doing anything more than simply sniffing them out, we should bring as many able-bodied fighters as possible," Brannik reasons.

"Aye, the more men we have on our side, the fewer risk in taking this party down," Wes says in agreement with the dwarf. "We cannot afford to grow cocky."

"Do we have enough men to take them out now?" Adrian asks, thinking to their meager numbers. "Apart from us we have a few able bodied men and some new recruits with barely any training. It might be best to scout their numbers before deciding if we can realistically hope to attack."

Brannik shrugs, unconvinced. "I'd doubt it. A light scouting party would be best."

With the scouting mission decided on, the six of you set off early the next morning after resupplying and recuperating in the safety of your hideout. You make your way over the hills of the Southern Steppe throughout the course of the morning, before arriving in the more fertile lands along the Red River later in the day.

It doesn't take you long to find the first signs of the raiding party, as the first fields you spot in the distance are swaths of charred land - still smouldering after having been put the torch. As you near the edge of the burned fields you spot a farmhouse still standing on the other side of the field.

Adrian shakes his head as the sight before them unfolds. Always the peasantry to suffer first. "We should check to see if there are survivors there. If so they might seek shelter with us. Even if they've no desire to leave, they might know what happened here."

"Burned fields, charred fields, torched fields," Brannik grumbles at his mentee. "These damned rogues tear away the livelihood of your people for the folly of pretender kings."

At Adrian's order, the dwarf nods sagely. "Good thinking. I'll check for tracks, see which way their movements led." As he follows the others, he keeps an eye out for footprints, hooveprints, or anything else.

Mechanics

[SHOW]

Perception to try and find troop movements to/from the area: 9(1d20) +10 = 19

Wes grimaces at the all-too-familiar sight laid ahead of them. He shakes his head and sighs. "I pray for the end of this war, so scourges like this might be properly dealt with once and for all." He nods to Adrian. "Aye, the farmhouse still stands, so that's a good sign. But let us tread carefully."

Brannik

[SHOW]

There are many tracks around the fields, both foot and horse, but the shear number of them make it hard to gauge numbers and direction.

"Pah. Too dense of steps to get a true grasp of their movements. Though it looks like they've both horsemen and footmen." Brannik follows along with the others toward the farmhouse.

"Horsemen, damn" Adrian responds. "Well let's hope for all of our sakes that they are no longer around. Last thing we need is to get trampled by a cavalry battalion." He looks to the house with great interest as the march on, hoping to spot any signs of it being still inhabited.

"I'm not too worried," Brannik says in unsmiling jest. "Horses tend to avoid me when I'm swinging this about." He claps a hand on the warhammer slung to his back.

"Perhaps, but if they choose to avoid you then that means more are coming after me. Not my idea of a fun time," the man says, giving Brannik a smirk.

Wes lets out a laugh at Adrian's quip. "Maybe you just need a bigger sword and they'll run from all of us." He smirks. "But then we'd have to chance after 'em, and I'm not dressed for a sprint."

"Bigger sword, bigger problems. The one he's got is balanced perfectly," Brannik notes. "Any warrior worth their salt will tell you that it's not the combatants who approach you with a poleaxe or a greatsword that you have to worry about. It's the ones with just a shortsword. You have to assume he's got the weight of years of training. And, well, the weight of iron bollocks too."

OOC

[SHOW]

Jake, to the farmhouse!

As you near the farmhouse one of the heavy wooden doors is thrown open and a man in chain mail steps out. The angle of your approach put you slightly behind him, just out of his field of view. He steps forward 10 feet or so from the farmhouse, before fiddling with his mail and trousers. He sighs loudly as he begins urinating on the charred field in front of him.

On his back he wears a shield bearing the dual unicorns of House Ostwald, meaning he is almost undoubtable part of the raiding party you've been tracking.

Brannik raises an open palm, calling for silence. He nods to Kass, drawing a finger across his own neck and raising a questioning eyebrow.

Mechanics

[SHOW]

Perception to try and listen through the open doors if anyone else is present, or if the man is alone: 3(1d20) +10 = 13

As Brannik moves to try to listen inside, Adrian instead focuses his attention more on the solider. Who is this man? A raider camping out? A deserter? They must be staying here for a reason. He tries to get a better look at the man to determine if he sees sign of wear and tear in his armor and clothing, or scars or other marking suggesting if he is a veteran of combat or a greenhorn.

Mechanics

[SHOW]

Perception to try to get a better look at the man: 17

Brannik

[SHOW]

You hear some sounds from inside in the farmhouse, but you aren't close enough to the doorway to make out what they are.

Adrian

[SHOW]

Just from the way the man is armed and armoured alone, you can tell he's no peasant levy. Most likely he is a trained man at arms, a far cry from knights such as yourselves but a competent fighter none the less.

His clothing is muddy and his shield shows signs of having blocked several heavy blows, the paint cracked and the wood splintering, suggesting he is no stranger to combat. He may have even fought in the battle of Parth as you and your companions did.

Brannik cups a hand to his ear, then points to the farmhouse, before making an X with his hands — a sign meant to indicate danger. We can get the drop on just the one, but we have no idea how many more are inside. What if there are too many?

OOC

[SHOW]

Have we seen or heard any horses stabled here?

Brannik

[SHOW]

The farm lacks any other structures-if there were any they must have been burned down along with the fields- so there's no where any horses could be stabled. Likewise you can't see or hear any horses nearby.

Adrian nods to Brannik and motions for them to fall back to a safer position. That man can fight, and survive at that. If there are many more of his type then we'd be fools to attack.

Wes nods at Adrian's motions, eager to get further from the farmhouse before they find themselves caught by its inhabitants. It'd hardly do to be caught by surprise while we try to take them by surprise.

Brannik follows suit, retreating from the farmhouse from the way they'd approached. Once a safe distance away, he takes stock of the situation. "Well, we know where they are. Problem is, we don't know how many. Perhaps we could stake them out, study their movements, their numbers."

He turns around, looking at their surroundings.

OOC

[SHOW]

Is there a treeline or any outcroppings that we could potentially watch this group for an extended time?

Brannik and anyone else looking around

[SHOW]

Scanning the surroundings you spot a couple of places you could surveil the farmhouse from. Two trees and some bushes still stand on what was once the edge of the field, untouched by the flames, about 150 feet from the farm house.

There is also a rocky outcropping about 100 feet from the farmhouse, which would provide ample cover, however it is behind the building which may limit what you can see.

"Were I a less honorable man, I might suggest we set the farmhouse alight with them within, as I'm sure they've done to countless other victims," Wes says, shrugging with a sigh. "But to have the thought alone is unbecoming of a knight." Then again, these are strange time we're in.

"Setting these devils alight would be the honorable thing," Brannik reasons. "However without knowing if they have any prisoners, or servants, or even a young, idiot squire, I'd be inclined to take more conservative strategies into mind."

He looks around, eyeing the trees in the distance. He points to them. "What do you think about staking them out? We don't all have to stay so close. The rest of us could push back a bit, thin ourselves out. I'd like to know their number, and if we can really take the fight to them. The six of us prove quite a force, but we do have a handful more back at camp."

Adrian shakes his head at Brannik's suggestion. "Staking them out would be one thing, but attacking them head on is not a good idea," he says. "Even if they match us in number, it should promise to be a difficult fight. These are no greenhorns," he adds. He reaches his arm out and points to the man they'd eyed before, realizing as he does so the futility of the action.

"That man has seen battle, very likely the same one we nearly lost our own lives in. It's the only major battle that has occurred here recently, and their beat-up armor shows signs of melee. If they survived that massacre then they know their stuff, and might even be better than the six of us. Even if not, one man over six and we are at a clear disadvantage," adds, a look of concern on his face.

"Aye, my friend," Brannik says. "I wasn't suggesting we go after these bastards at our current number. Instead, I'd be inclined to stake them out to see if it'd even be a viable option with the others here beside us." He sighs, considering that even with Ser Rarden, their forces are still paltry.

"However, should they prove to be a larger threat than our combined tactics and odds can handle, then this... problem... should be an easy wedge to drive into some of the able-bodied—yet—hesitant commonfolk around these parts. Militias are no trained fighting force, but if we stormed these grizzled bastards with ten score I'm sure they'd shit their britches."

Wes nods along as the pair speaks of how best to proceed. "Perhaps we might learn weaknesses, schedules, that sort of thing from staking them out," the arc-knight replies, eyeing the farmhouse in the distance. "Like if we learn when the booze is poured, that could give us an opening to strike. I'd love to see them swing a sword while three mugs in."

He turns to the dwarf. "Aye, that's true. The commonfolk are more willing to protect their own livelihood than a trio of kings up in stuffy castles. And they'll have an easier time convincing their fellows to join than we might."

"Fair points, both of you," Adrian responds. "Observation is certainly worthwhile, I only wanted to make sure we are exercising caution. If that last encounter we ha with enemy soldiers is anything to go by, we can stand to be cautious." The last thing we need is more commoners dying on our watch. The fewer casualties we allow, the better, he thinks to himself, recalling the caravan member who perished under their protection.

"We can only do so much with what little we have," Brannik says, thinking back to the caravan as well. "It's good we were there, or I fear that entire caravan would have been lost."

He takes a deep breath, rallying to their present predicament. "So. I'll take the first watch. Who wants to keep an eye with me? The others will stay behind us a bit — able to respond in case of trouble, but not endangering our changes of being seen."

"I'm not tired, so I can sit with you for first watch," Adrian says.

"Good," Brannik says. "We can find the rest of you when we need to take a break. If you hear us shout, that means come running." The dwarf sets his hammer against the tree, sitting down in the shade.

Wes waves the two off as they volunteer to take the first watch of their foes. Let's hope no trouble arises. I'd much prefer to take this lot by surprise.

Brannik sighs, placing a hand outside of the sharp line of shade cast by the tree, feeling the warm rays on his palm. Keeping his eyes on the farmhouse, he clears his throat quietly. "You ready for a long, boring shift, Wind Dancer?"

Adrian smirks, turning his head to face his companion. "Less boring than it could be," he says, before turning back to face towards the farmhouse as well. "I've done plenty watch shifts alone, and company always makes the time go by faster."

The dwarf smiles, ceding a nod at that. He is quiet for a moment before he speaks again. "So. How did you and Chloe meet? Seems quite a fortune to find and keep a partner in times like these."

Adrian sighs at the question, but smiles slightly to himself as well. "That... is a long story," Adrian responds. "Though I suppose we have lots of time. Do you want the detailed version, or the simplified one?" he asks.

"Whichever you feel at liberty to share," Brannik says, shrugging. "I'm a good listener."

"Not sure how interesting of a tale it is, but here goes," Adrian responds, before taking a moment to clear his throat. "I came to this country a few years back, from across the sea. Gleios is my homeland, if you know it," he says, with a brief pause to let Brannik respond.

"So I'm in Kingsport, fresh off the boat as they say, and I meet this guy. Kinda sleazy, but clever. He heard of my exploits on the ship, helped the crew survive some attacks and all, as it goes. He knows my goal is to make a name for myself in this country, and offers to pay me for intel. Turns out he is one of Peloth's spies, and they wanted dirt on some nobles. I forgot who all at this point." Adrian at this point turns to face Brannik, and seems pretty into telling the tale.

"So I do my thing, going town to town to spy on these nobles for him, he pays me enough to keep me fed along the way. But the locals get a kick out of my skills, and I get coin from them. So after awhile I don't need mister sleazeball anymore, so I just... let's say, forget to respond. And so he slanders me. Says I'm an outlaw, that me helping people is just a cover for me to rob them, that the people claiming to be helped by me are just friends telling lies to continue the charade. He's a real clever and vengeful, it turns out, guy, and even sends some thugs to rough me up, kill me maybe, who knows. They weren't that big of a threat."

After another brief pause, he continues. "So I am just wandering at this point, don't get much work since my reputation is ruined. But I run into Chloë on the road and she knows who I am. Not only that, she knows who Percy is - the asshole who framed me - because she is also a spy out of Peloth, and knows how he operates. So we make a deal. I serve as her bodyguard, she clears my name. Took a bit of time, but we both held up our end of the bargain. And in the travels we just kinda... grew to enjoy one another," he says, shrugging before turning back to face the farmhouse.

Brannik listens carefully. "Gleios, right. Never been, but I've read about it." As Adrian finishes his tale, the dwarf takes a deep breath and sighs before chuckling. "There's always a Percy, hm? You and Chloe seem well together. I'm happy for the pair of you is all."

He stretches his back, cracking his neck. "So whatever happened to that asshole?"

Adrian chuckles along with Brannik at his comment about the Percys of the world. "For all his faults, he was fiercly loyal to this nation, and especially his liege. When the split happened he left Fulsen and headed for Kingsport. Haven't really seen or heard from him since, though given he is one of the few spies to 'defect' from Peloth, I imagine he is doing pretty well for himself. Could be the Lorkan spymaster, who knows?"

The man gives a brief yawn before saying, "so what about you? dwarves aren't native to this land, or at least not commonly so. How'd you get mixed up in all of this?"

"Who knows, indeed. Though if we have the misfortune of crossing his path, at least the pair of you will know how to take him on."

At the man's question of Brannik's own origins, his mouth tightens a bit. Sharing goes both ways. I suppose I walked into this one, eh?

"Well, like you said, it's a long story." He cocks his head back, squinting as he determines the best place to begin.

"Grew up in Bal, east of here. Near Menora," he clarifies, unsure how well the other man knows the Tulrissian geography. "Third son of a noble, joined university, served in the militia. Patrolling mines, mapping routes, the usual mundane labor. I... I had a friend. Gods, it was years ago, but I remember it like it was yesterday. We lost him to a cave-in. After that, I figured I needed something else. Something different."

He gestures before him with a wave of his hand. "So I took to above-grounds for a time. Well, for good, I suppose. It wasn't a long ways to Menora but it sure felt like it. So that's where I trained. Met some of the same crowd that Wes came from, actually — arcane knights are no joke. I did a lot of work around the area, mostly sellsword jobs and whatever got heaped on my plate. Must have done a good job, since the Hollowguard recruiter showed up one day."

Brannik shakes his head. "You know the rest of the story. There are good folks in the Guard. Good, loyal folks who might even agree with what we're doing here. But when the crown was up for grabs, everything went to shit." He considers that a moment. "I wasn't born to Tulrisse, but there's a certain charm to this land. Humans are hardy — hardier than most of my people give them credit for. The Tulrissians are no exception. They just always seem to end up with the worst of the bunch in command."

Adrian gives a hearty laugh at Brannik's final comment. "Ah, well it seems we are more alike than I thought. Had my luck not turned sour due to Percy's meddling, I imagine the Hollowguard might have sought me out as well, given we made our money the same way. Strange times we live in."

Brannik's story, especially the part about his friend, causes memories of his past life to rush back. His smile quickly fades, and he takes a moment to hold back a tear. There is a pause, longer than his previous pauses, before he speaks again. "I came to this land after great loss as well, so we share that similarity too. The love of my life, she was. I had a perfect life planned out with her, and it all went to shit in that single moment. Was enough to drive a man insane. Enough to drive him to abandon his entire life and move halfway across the world to a foreign land." He turns his head downward a bit, looking at the ground near his feet.

Brannik is silent for a moment. "I'm sorry to hear, friend. Grief can be a hard, unexpected shove toward designing a new life for yourself. I can't pretend to know what losing your betrothed would feel like, but when we lost Maris after the mining accident, it felt as if there was something missing from my core. A damned good friend he was, and it made me realize how vulnerable we mortals are. You know? Every day we wake up, it might be the last. May as well make something beautiful to show for it."

He smiles, suddenly. "I'd like to think that what we're doing is just that."

As the dwarven warrior stops talking, you both notice movement over by the farmhouse. The door opens once more and another soldier emerges. He is dressed similarly to the previous man you saw, although differently enough to differentiate the two even at this distance. He stumbles out of the door, swaying side to side, with a tankard in hand.

The dwarf's smile fades at the sight of the drunk soldier. "Eyes up, Adrian. We've got another. You think they're going through that farmer's casks?" He grumbles at the thought. "Damn shame. Wasted spirits on these cruel folk."

Adrian looks up at Brannik’s words. Seeing the man, a thought begins to run through his head. “Perhaps not,” he responds at the mention of the alcohol going to waste. “Perhaps it is an opportunity. If they are all drinking, we might just be able to catch them unaware, and be done with them now rather than later. If only we had a better idea of their number.”

"It's true, they'll be noticeably easier to put down, or even cow away," Brannik reasons. "However, drunk soldiers are still soldiers. We are working with so few numbers that if I can't ensure we won't lose a man, I don't want to go in." He sighs impatiently. "Come out, you pissed bastards. Come out so we can count you."

"Well, we don't necessarily have to even go in," Adrian responds, a devious plan formulating in his brain. "Assuming we can verify there are no hostages inside, we could simply finish the job they started and set the barn ablaze. Drunk, burned, and coughing from the smoke they'd stumble out. If that's not enough of an advantage, added with the cover of darkness, I don't know if there is any other way to take them now."

Brannik nods slowly, recognizing the worth of the arson plan. "Aye. Any sense of organized warfare they might be capable of would vanish in chaos like that. Then we could pick the survivors off with a phalanx assault that leaves us unscathed."

He grumbles, shaking his head. "I wish there was a way to fully determine whether or not we have hostages. My powers are no use here. Perhaps Chloe, or Kass? I've studied the arcane but I don't fully comprehend their prowess. Perhaps they have something up their sleeves."

As you continue talking the drunken soldier relieves himself before stumbling back towards the farmhouse.

"I don't believe that Chloë is capable of anything like that, sadly. From what I can tell she mostly has command over some of the elements, nothing that would work well for subterfuge." Adrian watches as the man stumbles back inside. "We've only seen two distinct men so far, and the barn is not large. With enough time, we should see them all come to relieve themselves at least once. At least we should be able to get an good number of them accounted for."

"That is, if they are sober enough to piss outside and not on themselves in a stupor. Though I suppose incapacitated louts aren't counted among the number of active threats within." As they settle in once more to continue counting, the dwarf once again turns to his companion. "You ever ride a horse? I was just thinking about that. Horses would make our travels quicker. Sometimes it's hard keeping up with Wes, as young as lanky as he is."

"Many times, yes," Adrian responds. "Back in my homeland my family had many horses, so I have ridden them since I was a child. I've not owned one since coming to this land, though, so not many times recently. It would certainly be nice not to walk everywhere though." He pauses, before turning to the man. "Why, what are you thinking?"

"We came up on quite the haul from that warband that attacked the caravan. Spare coin does nothing on its own, so I was thinking it may be wise to outfit ourselves with horses. Less time spent on the road means less chances to run into another army." He shrugs. "I've ridden a few times before. Not enough to fight on horseback, but enough to get me where I need to go."

"Aye, true. Though I imagine those will be no small expense, especially now, in wartime. Perhaps we could come about them another way, if we're lucky." He pauses again. "If this is a raiding party, might be they have some of their own nearby. Even in the stable, perhaps."

"You mean... steal them from our many enemies?" Brannik asks in mock-horror before giving out a chuckle. "Good thinking. Well-trained horses that have seen war would be even better than a horse merchant's usual stock." He pauses a moment. "We'll keep an eye out, and bring it up to Wes and the others. Worse case, we can buy them at-price."

"Aye, free horses is better than paying for them. They will be expensive enough to maintain once we have them, so if we can minimize those costs by any amount, it would be beneficial." He thinks again for a moment, before continuing. "Actually, we might need to figure out the logistics of holding them as well. Horses are not often fond of caves, and that is all we have for lodging at this time. If we manage to snag some, who knows if we even can keep them?"

"We've got the one, but who knows how much trouble it will be caring for and storing multiple in our current state." He considers the idea of logistics further. "I guess that brings up a larger question of what comes next after a cave? Though we have more immediate worries at hand." Brannik takes a deep breath, sighing at the many problems they would need to find solutions for. "One problem at a time, I always say."

"What, indeed," Adrian says, having never really pondered their current situation in depth until this conversation. "A cave is great place for staying hidden from the powers that be, but eventually - gods willing - we will have enough support that being under the radar is no longer possible. Where we go from there is hard to say," he adds.

You continue to wait to try and more accurately gauge the soldiers' number. About fifteen minutes pass before you see movement by the farmhouse again. The door flies open and a young peasant woman comes running out, a few seconds later followed by four soldiers - you recognise two of the four as the two you've already seen. The woman gets about 20 feet from the building before she trips and falls into the mud. The nearest of the soldiers is quickly on top of her, grabbing her and lifting her off her feet to carry her back inside as she continues to struggle.

Adrian's face twists into one of anger and disgust as the scene unfolds before him. "Hostages after all. Young women, at that. There is no way their day is going well," he says, trying not to think about what horrors she might have endured inside the barn. "I know it's risky, but... should we not act? We'd be taking a risk, sure, but..." he trails off, trying not to let his emotions about the situation show to heavily. Those bastards are no soldier, their thugs, just looking to torment whoever. We need to put them down, like the dogs they are.

A frown tightens across Brannik's face as he watches the young woman attempt escape. He grunts in annoyance, not feeling fully prepared to take on the unknown number. "I'd rather risk my life than hers, or whoever else may be in there." Pausing a moment to certify his intentions, he turns back to Adrian. "We should regroup, quickly. These drunkards look the type to be sour about her making a break for it." He begins to make his way back toward the other four, further away from the farmhouse.

A smile peeks through Adrian's disgust as Brannik expresses his agreement. "Yes, I agree," he says, following after the other. It is good to have found such admirable and like-minded allies, he thinks, his eagerness to rush into the fray only growing as he walks.

Adrian and Brannik

[SHOW]

You make the short walk back to the others and find them, with a small camp set up of bedrolls in a natural dip in the landscape offering some protection from the elements.

Some of them stir just from your arrival, having probably not fallen asleep too long ago, and the others you wake quickly.

Wes

[SHOW]

You and the others leave Brannik and Adrian to their scouting, setting off you soon find an area suitable for a small camp a little ways back from the trees.

You lay down your bedrolls, forgoing a fire in case it gives away your presence, and settle in. Some little conversation is made for a while before people manage to drift off attempting to catch whatever sleep they can.

The noise of people approaching stirs you from your own slumber and you open your eyes to see Adrian and Brannik who then proceed to wake the others.

"It's time to move," Adrian says as they approach, watching as the few who are barely awake come to. "The situation's changed, and the hostages are clearly suffering at the hands of these thugs. Who's up to empty the latrine?" he asks, the anger at the situation clear in his tone of voice.

"I suppose this rules out strategic use of fire," Wes says with a shrug, pulling himself up from his bedroll as they're hurriedly awakened by the Wind Dancer. "Let's go rough up some drunks, shall we?"

"I intend to do more than rough them up," Brannik says in a growl steeped in malice as he hefts his hammer up to rest on his shoulder. "We've seen at least four soldiers, most if not all completely pissed. There's a woman, tried to break away but they pulled her back screaming. Way I see it, we have a few options."

He takes a breath, ironing them out in his mind. "One, we bust our way in and start chaos. We'll have the upper hand if they haven't spotted or heard us. This is risky, but could work flawlessly if we're lucky."

"Or, we can plant the majority of us along the side of the farmhouse. Send one of us to make a distraction, maybe draw one or two of them out. The rest of us pop out, hit him like an ox-drug-plow, and send him back to his makers. From there they'll be at least a man down. Could help even the numbers if there are more."

"I think the second option sounds riskier, at least for the hostages," Adrian says. "There is a chance they take the bait, but there is a chance they simply grab what they can - hostages included - and flee out another exit. The first option will take them all by surprise if done right, which is exactly what we need to make this work."

"Or the chance they kill the hostages and flee," Wes says as they discuss how to go about their assault. "If we bust in, they'll barely have time to react. They may not even have their arms and full armor at the ready."

"Good point, Wes," the dwarf says. "If any of us comes across their weapons, kick them away behind us. Drunk and unarmed, we might even be able to take a few prisoners of our own." He turns to his mentee. "Gemma, it should go without saying, but stay behind me and close-by. Don't go rushing in ahead of the three of us."

"You got it, sir," she says with a nod. "I know better than to be in front of you mid-charge."

"We should move quickly," Adrian reminds the others, as they rouse from a state of relaxation. "If those men are getting riled up by an attempted escape, who knows what they might be doing to the prisoners right now." Whatever harm they bring upon them, I will make sure to repay it twice over.

"Aye," Brannik agrees as they move. "Let's be quick, but quiet."

You approach the farmhouse as quickly as you can while trying to remain quiet and keeping low. You manage to make it to the edge of the field undetected, as far as you know, Where you can get a better look at the farm building. It is fairly crudely constructed, only a single story tall and made of rough stones, with a wooden roof. In front of you is a large wooden door, however you also spot a smaller side entrance.

Map

[SHOW]

"We should split up, half at each entrance," Adrian whispers to the others, trying to remain as silent as possible. "The fewer escape routes they have, the better."

"I'll take the front," Brannik says, peering across at the building. "The more mobile of you should flank. Cut off any escapes, and push in to regroup with us. Gemma, lend Adrian your spear should he agree to take that side."

He turns to Wes. "Where do you want to be, my friend? We could use your help on the flank to slow their escape, or up front to ensure they don't get the chance to try."

"I'll take the flank," Wes says with a nod. "Got enough magic in my repertoire to put a stop to them if they try to run," he adds, tapping his scabbard. He smirks. "Can't go too far when your legs feel like ice blocks."

"Great," Brannik says. "Who's coming with me?"