Dovan from Nisroch
Faderean watched from above as a pair of bandits fired at Pirec, peppering them with what arrows he could. A 3rd man, Dovan, lithe and dressed in purplish black with tattoos covering the skin that was exposed, hung back throwing daggers.
The stranger, Akiros chased off the dagger throwing lieutenant that had appeared from the other side of the camp.
Rudi runs after the escaping bandit, but only finds an open gate
Akiros, healed by *Glod*’s last burst, props himself up on an elbow.
“Did you work for him?” Cassius asked.
“I did. And what are you going to do with me.”
“You have no need to fear us. Have you committed crimes?”
“Many… And at first, I thought I would be making up for past mistakes. But the longer I stayed, the more I realized I was digging myself in deeper and deeper with the sins of The Stag Lord. When your assault began, I saw the opportunity to break free and begin my atonement.”
“Remember Cassius, shades of gray…” Sear interjected.
“Yes, Sear. Everyone has a chance for redemption, and it will be remembered when you are tried for your crimes.”
“Tried?” Akiros asked.
“You have my word you will be fine,” Sear said, staring at Cassius.
“You’re no prisoner,” He said, handing his sword to the former bandit. “But you said it yourself, you’ve committed crimes.”
“Except he did help us, and was attacking The Stag Lord, which proves he’s on our side,” Rudi said.
“Which should be considered, but does not exonerate him for his prior crimes committed while under his rule.”
“Rudi, you said one got away.” Sear asked, changing the topic.
“Yeah, the one with the tattoos and dark clothes.” Rudi muttered.
“What can you tell us of him?” Sear asked Akiros.
“That would be Dovan from Nisroch. He’s the worst of the lot, matching The Stag Lord for cruelty and depravity.”
“And our friend?” Sear asked, a question Glod had been repeating up until this point. Faderean, dazed, in a more or less catatonic state, had just stood mutely. Akiros, having witnessed the chaos, led the rest of the party to the collapsed tower that had buried Pirec
It wasn’t all positive though. Dovan from Nisroch returned, smuggling drugs into the city which put the humans imbibing it into a dazed stupor.. The party, using their various assets and abilities, did what they could with the epidemic. Glod tended to the sick, asking his God Torag for aid and praising him simultaneously; Faderean infiltrated the lower ranks, leading various party members where they needed to be; Cassius tried to scare straight, then meted out justice. Too obvious was Sear, too much of a public figure these days, and too useless was Rudi, who spent too much time hopping around after ghosts and whispers, and researching the drug itself. Pirec did the same, but in a much more visceral way as he joined the addicts in the drugs use.
It was *Hydrastis*’s keen skill in observation and perception that spotted the drugs as they were carted into the city limits, her ability to track that brought the party to their leader. It was, returned to enact a different sort of attack on the new city. Like old times they eliminated his subordinates in the drug trade, but were unable to apprehend the tattooed villain.
In the month of Kuthona, while Rudi and Cassius return from protecting trade caravans coming back from Oleg’s with much needed supplies, the find the burgeoning town in turmoil. While Sear was lounging on furs in his quarters, the body of Kesten was dragged in between town guards. Limp, with prominent sores on his now pale, greenish skin, the Royal Enforcer was assassinated. Sear dispatched the guards to assemble the rest of the party, and together they examined the body.
Glod was able to identify the small, circular wounds with one tucked under the ribs and another on the back of the neck. The flesh around the wound had become necrotized, with the veins around the wound bulging. It had been very recent.
The rest were taken to the small alley where the body was found. The blood was still fresh, and Cassius left immediately to knock on doors and look for witnesses. Above the pooled blood there’s what looks like a tribal sun, drawn so it was tilted to the ide.It looks familiar to Pirec, like the one tattooed onto Dovan from Nisroch’s stomach.