((Since most peoples are in favor of moving this along, I'll go ahead and do that! Won't skimp on the details regarding actions this post, though! Also, my goodness I was gonna have a good laugh if noone rescued the scout...was totally gonna write up what happened to him...x3))<br/><br/><br/>It takes only a couple of moments for Cyria to cover the distance from the 'yard' of the old, soon-to-be-abandoned-again house to the edge of the treeline that surrounded it in a neat semi-circle. It's even easier to find where she'd left Dart, if only because of the faint, muffled sounds of distress that carried upon what little breeze managed to work it's way between the thick trunks of the trees, and the equally-as-telltale sounds of frustration from...SOMETHING, but what it was isn't instantly apparent.<br/><br/>It doesn't take long, however, for Cyria to wind her way to where she recalled leaving Dart, only to find the little fennec's head partially buried in the throat of a seemingly very-distressed harpy, perhaps only a foot or so taller than the diminutive, feminine fox himself. Her simple clothing marked her as likely nothing more than a commoner, maybe a traveler who'd just managed to stumble upon the entrapped foxboy, but she was clearly experienced at eating things at least comparable to her own size, as the ease with which she gulps down another few inches of the entrapped fox is immediately apparent. The silk entrapping the fox, however, seems to be her biggest concern, as no amount of tugging or pulling will get the fox free, at least not without a great deal more effort on her part.<br/><br/>Looking a little closer, Cyria notes that the harpy's bird-like feet are coated in thing strands of her webbing, where she'd clearly been pulling at the stuff in an effort to loosen it up enough to get her dinner-to-be free. Luckily for Dart, she'd not completely managed, though the webbing WAS a little thin in places now, and getting thinner with each eager tug and attempt to get the fox down her throat.<br/><br/>Fortunately for Dart, Cyria's timely arrival prevents the harpy from getting any closer to her goal of fox dinner, and upon spotting Cyria, the harpy spits out her furry prize, utters a startled 'Gaah! NOPE!", and instantly takes to the air, flapping for all she is worth. It takes a matter of seconds for the sparrow-harpy to disappear beyond the treetops overhead, leaving Dart coated in saliva and looking rather bedraggled, but otherwise none the worse for wear. The spider's appearance, though, suddenly scuttling up from below and peeking her head up over the branch right next to his own, makes the little, furry male cry out in shock "GYAH!!! If it's not freakin' birds, it's spiders! Oh by the bloody gods themselves, I swear I'm gonna go back home to mum, crawl in that lil' den, and never leave it again! To all the hells with this merc business!"<br/><br/>News that he'd be returning to his group - alive - seemed to calm the little guy down a bit, though there's more than a little nervous tension surrounding him at mention of how 'tasty' he looked "Eh..heh...hehehe....t-tasty? Nah, I mean...I'd...likely just be all stringy and...w-well, think of the hairball. I'm pretty much all fur. T-trust me, you're better off just taking me back. Plus, I'd slow you down, I mean...you'd have to carry my weight and...and...yeah. I-im ready to go back now..."<br/><br/>*****************************************************************************************************<br/><br/>(Giving Sasara a little bonus to intimidate, given the elf is not only bound and gagged, but there has been some serious talk about her ending up as someone's dinner))<br/><br/>Sasara's strong, lithe body easily whirls itself around the bound elf, squeezing her tightly within her coils. Admittedly, it was a rather pleasant sensation on the naga's scaley skin - the elf's body was so incredibly soft and tender and warm, and whilst she was not exceptionally tall, she certainly had an enticing bust, delectable looking thighs, tantalizing skin...<br/><br/>...And the look of fear in her eyes is priceless "Mmmf?! Mmmmmfff! Mfff mff mmmm mfff!" She calls out into her gag, tiny, glimmering tears appearing in the corner of her eyes, but whatever she'd been trying to say is muffled. Still, odds are that since she'd been bound and gagged long before Sasara's group ever reached the farmhouse, whatever she knew was likely minimal at best.<br/><br/>((This intimidate will likely last for the remainder of the day, as far as...well, trying to do scary things to her in the future. x3 Or wheedle information outta her.))<br/><br/><br/>********************************************************************************************************<br/><br/><br/>The parting with the mercs is actually somewhat pleasant, and though it's clear there's a little sore feelings about having their payday swooped out from under them, as less 'honorable' companies than the Iron Boars would have likely slit the throats, or just eaten, every single one of the captured prisoners. By Meera's own admission, that's exactly what SHE had done to the group that THEY had ambushed, with the now bound-and-gagged wild elf being the only survivor.<br/><br/>Still, despite those sore feelings, the parting is at least somewhat amiable, and as promised, the defeated mercenary group offer up their secondary weapons as recompense for their lives, along with all the gold they had. Naji, the group's official quartermaster, takes a little while to take stock of the goods, documents them (and the potential sell-price for later), and just like that, is ready to go.<br/><br/>The walk back towards Tyval ends up being a somewhat pleasant one. The small southern road the Boars had initially taken to investigate the farmstead is easy to traverse, and whilst there are places where it's been dug out a little bit due to storms, it's altogether easy to traverse on foot. The cool breeze that wafts in from the coastline, bringing with it the faintly salty scent of the sea, proves to be rather invigorating and a mood uplifter, even for the rather fussy Yumina. Denied her elvish meal, she settles into a bit of a brooding sort of mood, and it's only some half-hour into the walk (and a little gentle conversational nudges), that she finally seems to come out of it. Meera, on the other hand, chatters incessantly, and it takes oh-so-very-little to draw her attention. Focusing on a single topic does not seem to be her forte, and though her head is a little scattered, she turns out to be a rather charming feline, and seems as though she may make a rather fine addition to the Iron Boar's roaster as potential backup when needed. Even Naji, whom normally immediately dislikes anyone new, cannot help but carry on a couple of short conversations with the catgirl. Johan, at a glance, knows the drow well enough to know she actually likes it, even if she's trying to play it off. Plus, the shade of the sparse treeline that lines the road, providing ample shadow, seems to reduce her headache (once Cyria's spell wears off!) to something more bareable.<br/><br/>After a good hour's walk, the sun begins to settle beyond the horizon, and while there is still enough light out to see, it would not remain light for much longer. Thankfully, the welcome sight of Port Tyval rises in the distance, and even at a casual pace, covering the distance to the gate before night fell in it's entirety was almost assured. Or, at least, would have been assured, had not the road become blocked by a duo of individuals stepping out from the trees some hundred or so feet in front of the group.<br/><br/>The pair actually dredge of memories of the small group of people the Iron boars had passed on the way *TO* the farmhouse. They'd looked a little shady, but allowed the group to pass unhindered, perhaps simply due to how heavily the numbers were stacked against them. This time, though, they appeared a little more confident.<br/><br/>The two were an interesting pair - a human woman, likely in her early twenties, dressed up in a suit of rather tight leather armor that accentuated her very enticing curves nicely. She had a pretty face, lightly framed by brown hair that dangled down just about to shoulder-length. The other, a just slightly smaller rat-girl, stood at the other side of the road, completely devoid of any and all clothing beyond a few scraps of leather that hung loosely over her shoulder, or formed a sort of skinny belt around her waist where a spell-material pouch hung. Much like her human companion already had her weapon drawn - a wicked looking short blade of some sort - she had a staff in her hand, and her fingers already dipped casually into her spell components.<br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="http://s36.photobucket.com/user/CassyInko/media/Makisa_zpsfhbvucqu.jpg.html"><img alt="Image" src="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e42/CassyInko/Makisa_zpsfhbvucqu.jpg"/></a><br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="http://s36.photobucket.com/user/CassyInko/media/1441476136989_zpsssoqja7r.jpg.html"><img alt="Image" src="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e42/CassyInko/1441476136989_zpsssoqja7r.jpg"/></a><br/><br/><br/>Seemingly quite confident, the human, cupping her free hand around her mouth, called out in to the group "Hoooo travelers. Stop where you are. Little late to be out and about, isn't it?" Casting a coy little smirk at her rat-friend, the human girl continued "M'name is Makisa. I'm here on...behalf of t'city of Tyval. Rough times an' all. Gotta collect a fee from ruffian-types what stroll up nearin' the dead of night. Quite standard, I assure you. What with the troubles in town and all, fee is a bit steep - twenty gold a person."<br/><br/>Quite clearly, it was a bluff. She was not dressed in anything that even resembled a guard outfit, and judging by how confident she looked, having a few friends hidden in the forest on either side of the road was not too far fetched. Of course, there was also a good chance they'd take the money instead of causing trouble, if it was offered. Who knew.<br/><br/><br/>((The group can make a SINGLE perception check, and apply it to all below, and who they end up spotting...this is in order from easiest to spot, to hardest to spot! I won't go into great detail about them in this particular post, since it's just kinda a 'lead up'.))<br/><br/>(DC 14)<br/><div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">Clearly not exceptionally adept at hiding, the pink tail and ears of what looks like a pig-girl can be seen jutting from a small bush to the left side of the main road. She carries a massive hammer, easily rivaling Yumina's own large sword.<br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="http://s36.photobucket.com/user/CassyInko/media/1438566132331_zpsl3coygxp.jpg.html"><img alt="Image" src="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e42/CassyInko/1438566132331_zpsl3coygxp.jpg"/></a></div></div></div><br/><br/><br/>(DC 16)<br/><div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">A heavily-robed human, likely a male, though it's very difficult to tell. His brown robe does blend in decently well compared to the treetrunk he's nestled in behind, but not enough to completely conceal him..<br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="http://s36.photobucket.com/user/CassyInko/media/151983_zps9tisgjgd.jpg.html"><img alt="Image" src="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e42/CassyInko/151983_zps9tisgjgd.jpg"/></a></div></div></div><br/><br/>(DC 18)<br/><br/><div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">A large scorpion woman, neatly concealed despite the rather thin undergrowth that grew between the trees. Had it not been for a slight shift of her tail, she might never have been seen at all.<br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="http://s36.photobucket.com/user/CassyInko/media/Girtablilu_0_zpsvshu0igs.jpg.html"><img alt="Image" src="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e42/CassyInko/Girtablilu_0_zpsvshu0igs.jpg"/></a></div></div></div><br/><br/>(DC 20)<br/><div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">A pair of catfolk? Dogfolk? It was hard to tell, but whatever they were, they were neatly concealed in the trees. Could be related? The female is the only of the pair that is heavily armed, and she's in a limb just a bit off the ground, whilst the male sports a simple pair of brass knuckles.<br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="http://s36.photobucket.com/user/CassyInko/media/06bfinals_by_luigiix-d7xxy5e_zpsnppeya7m.png.html"><img alt="Image" src="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e42/CassyInko/06bfinals_by_luigiix-d7xxy5e_zpsnppeya7m.png"/></a><br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="http://s36.photobucket.com/user/CassyInko/media/large_zpsrhfvxnyf.jpg.html"><img alt="Image" src="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e42/CassyInko/large_zpsrhfvxnyf.jpg"/></a></div></div></div><br/><br/>(Also DC 20..)<br/><div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">Orcs (or, in this case, half-orcs) were not know for their stealth, but the hide-armored half-orc girl is difficult to see amongst the trees. She appears to have a handaxe of some sort, along with a small shield.<br/><a class="postlink" href="http://s36.photobucket.com/user/CassyInko/media/japan_minicommissions___orc_by_electrocereal-d3ce1b6_zps5cfspgaw.jpg.html"><img alt="Image" src="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e42/CassyInko/japan_minicommissions___orc_by_electrocereal-d3ce1b6_zps5cfspgaw.jpg"/></a></div></div></div><br/><br/>(DC 22)<br/><div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">Hidden side-by-side, a half-elvish woman and a lizardgirl are nearly in perfect cover, with the former hidden behind a tree AND inside a bit of brush, and the lizardess' scale coloration doing wonders to blend in with her environment. Surprisingly enough, the lizardess doesn't carry a weapon of any kind, and though her fingertips end with short, sharp little claws, they hardly made the most intimidating weapon...<br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="http://s36.photobucket.com/user/CassyInko/media/888_131_zpsmozbisxr.jpg.html"><img alt="Image" src="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e42/CassyInko/888_131_zpsmozbisxr.jpg"/></a><br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="http://s36.photobucket.com/user/CassyInko/media/103_zpsmn899f5q.jpg.html"><img alt="Image" src="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e42/CassyInko/103_zpsmn899f5q.jpg"/></a></div></div></div><br/><br/><br/>(Special, DC 23...)<br/><br/><div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">It was just a glimpse through the trees, but it looked as though a green-furred...SOMETHING...was hidden away just a bit further back in the trees. He was out of range to make an effective ranged attack against the party, and it looked as though he was more focused upon the brigands in the trees than the party as a whole.<br/><br/>Though, just as quickly as that glimpse was there, it's gone, leaving you wondering what you'd actually seen...?</div></div></div><br/><br/><br/>****************************************************************************************<br/>(Welcome to our newest player!<img alt=":D" src="./images/smilies/icon_mrgreen.gif" title="Very Happy"/>Taking over the spot left open by Ragnar's disappearance! Also, turns out I am STILL horrible at introductions. x.x)<br/><br/>Tom had expected a pretty sizable force to take on the returning group of mercs he'd seen leaving just earlier that very day, but this particular little band had spared no expense this time. Clearly, someone had gotten wind of a 'good haul', and despite how much truth their was to the tale, they'd deemed it fitting to pull each of their numbers out of Tyval to intercept them and recover whatever treasure they might have found.<br/><br/>Honestly, the group was something of a menace. While not the WORST that Tyval had to offer in the form of gangs, they were the most active, and had very little qualms about seeking out people traveling solo or in pairs and robbing them blind. Most of the time, the very same individuals they robbed were never seen again...and judging by some of the figures amongst them, it was easy to see why.<br/><br/>Even now, being this close to them, actively stalking them, was something of a thrill - it had been all but impossible to get them 'alone' in Tyval, but here, with their attention fully focused upon the group of unfortunate mercs that had been waylaid on the road, the chance to thin a few of their numbers was high. Of course, just how much opportunity he got was largely dependent upon the group of mercs - he'd overheard them called the 'Iron boars'? - and just how they reacted to being waylaid. Now, at least, Tom was certain he was in a good position to quickly maneuver up to one of the misfits hiding in the trees and make short work of them...and they had clearly not seen him. Yet.<br/><br/><br/>(REALLY basic intro, as what happens may be dependent upon what the group does! x3 )