It is a time of great upheaval in Brevoy. For ten years, the power vacuum created by the disappearance of House Rogarvia has weakened the southern region of Rostland, while the northern Issia has grown in strength. Fractious and internecine relations between the noble houses have led to an increase in conscription, leading most of Brevoy's citizens to fear the civil war is inevitable.
Nobles from House Rogarvia ruled the city of Restov until the still-unknown calamity caused them to disappear without warning. In the decade since, Restov's ability to exert influence on the southern border has waned precipitously. Bandits cross the porous border from the lawless Stolen Lands with nearly no opposition. With Rostland's attention turned northward, the “bandit problem” has truly spiraled out of control.
Lord Mayor Ioseph Sellimus, the regent in charge of Restov, has formulated a strategy to eliminate the weakness of the southern border and turn it into a strength. Commissioning four groups of adventurers southward to explore, map, and clear the Stolen Lands of threats, he hopes to create a buffer zone and ally.
Making matters difficult is that the entirety of the River Kingdoms were rocked by a massive earthquake fifteen years prior. The terrible quake entirely reshaped the region's geography and destroyed what semblance of infrastructure existed. Trade nearly came to a halt through the region, forcing the caravans through Galt and Numeria. This further devastated the economy of the River Kingdoms, something from which they are barely recovering. No one has a complete and accurate map of the region, something necessary to re-open the lucrative trade routes. This is part of the expedition's task.
This is the story of one of those groups. An unusual band brought together by Brevoy's commission, six adventurers unknowingly stand on the cusp of destiny. One by one, they trickle into the last semblance of civilization on the border, a simple trading post run by Oleg and Svetlana Leveton. Once assembled, they are to set out into the Stolen Lands and map the area, but little do they know that this will put them on a course to make history and live forever in legend.
The air is still brisk, but the first signs of spring are beginning to emerge as the group arrives at the trading post. Oleg's Trading Post is technically part of Brevoy, but enjoys little of its protection. It is situated at the edge of the border along the little-used South Rostland Road. An abandoned border fort refitted into a trading post, it is set inside a wooden palisade that appears unlikely to be capable of holding back a determined kobold. It does, however, appear invited and homey, a peal of smoke emerging from a chimney in the main building.
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Verik came to a halt as the Trading Post came into sight. The place was hardly inspiring, if Absalom was the white hot center at the heart of the furnace of civilization, this place was at best a far scattered ember. Turning to look up at his too cheerful companion he sighed wearily,
"Well here we are cousin. My feet hurt, and I smell like an ogre's armpit, but at least we are here at this delightful hovel in the middle of a vast bandit inhabited wilderness."
Shaking his head the young priest sucks in his stomach, diminished considerably in recent months but still possessed of a certain roundness, and reaches a hand up to retrieve the charter. He unfurls the document and frowns again at its contents.
"I still say the wordings too ambiguous, it will come back to bite us you mark my words. Written by a politician no doubt, I swear they like to create problems so they have something to argue about." He complains for the umpteenth time.
The charter had been given to him by his Abbott, Ramuel Lorrell, weeks ago. The old Temple Master filling his head with thoughts of new towns to be constructed and administered, and hordes of lawless bandits to be quelled and made to dance a gibbet jig so they never threatened good men again.
Lorrell had neglected to mention the joys of traveling in armor, and while Verik's feet had carried him far previously, they had done so - blissfully - without the encumberance of thirty pounds of steel. Nor was the weight the only delightful surprise, Verik had soon discovered that in the sun armor was unbearably hot, in the cold it was like wearing ice, and in the wet it was about as much protection as wishful thinking.
Verik was beginning to suspect that his selection had been of simple expedience rather than merit. He had discovered shortly before his departure that the Church of Abadar had finally secured the rights to expand their temple in Restov in exchange for their aide in securing the Green Belt. And here was a young priest at a loose end, divine providence, fortunate fate, or annoying coincidence? he had yet to determine.
His fate had been sealed by the Abbott, who had an astonishing memory for trivial details spotting his cousin was being sent - most of Abadar's senior priests kept in touch via paper and spell on a semi-regular basis. And while Verik enjoyed, and perhaps even loved, his cousin in the proper way of distant family he found Taisper's enthusiasm for family somewhat disconcerting.
So Verik had reservations about the whole affair. But it was, whatever else a chance to advance the causes so dear to his own heart, to fight lawlessness, and promote civilization, to make peoples lives better by shining the torch of enlightenment into the savage darkness. And no matter how sore his feet were he was doing the work of Abadar.
Tandlara had been newly arrived in Restov, her horse not even saddles when she saw a crier announcing the charter. She had quickly found stabling and proceeded to the Mayoral offices. The Stolen Lands, haunted by the fey. My destination, I can feel the rightness of this.
She arrived and in short order was brought through the application process, most of the human pages seemed quite frightened of the soft-spoken elven woman, with her staring eyes and charred fetishes.
And by the end of the day she had set off to the west, not spending even a night under the roofs of one of Restov's inns.
The travel went quickly and quietly, riding on her horse by day, and sleeping in her tent without a fire, and away from the road at night.
She arrived at a fortuitous time it seemed, for she could see other figures on the road once Oleg's came into sight. The the nearest to her where a pair of men with a slight family resemblance.
It seems the post will be at full capacity tonight. It's been so long since I've spent a night with humans. They'll probably get into mischief, she smiled at that thought.
Humans can't avoid trouble. How exciting.
It was not surprising, when one thought about it, that the Swordlords would contact the church of Abadar in an attempt to gain recruits for bringing civilization (they could call it what they wanted, but was not exploration, travel, and to "strive against banditry" part of the very definition of civilization?) to the Stolen Lands, but it could definitely be thought surprising that Taisper Stozs, unknown and untested young Inquisitor of The Vault from distant Alkenstar City, would get the call. As it was, Taisper was beside himself with joy when the order came. His abbot looked dubious. "Taisper," he had said, "Something is off about this. Don't go, we need you here. I will convince them to send someone else." But Taisper was already finished packing, and checking his travel schedule. "Nonsense, Abbot, surely they must have heard of all the good work we're doing here, how few fights, the might of our industry. They just want some of that success to be spread! I have done much here, but this is a great opportunity from the Keeper to start from scratch, to really impact an entire region. I'll be fine. I'll write." With that Taisper embraced his teacher and friend, and began his journey.
His joy at having been chosen practically doubled when he found the other representative of the church -- for they had been asked for two -- was none other than his cousin Verik. The two had been far apart growing up but were able recently to reconnect at a temple dedication in Absalom. They'd stayed in touch since then, and were both happy at the other's selection for this mission.
On the road, on a mission with real reach, and I'm with family besides. Life is wonderful.
"Well here we are cousin. My feet hurt, and I smell like an ogre's armpit, but at least we are here at this delightful hovel in the middle of a vast bandit inhabited wilderness."
Taisper looks at his cousin with a sideways smile. "Look on the bright side, Verik; it could be much worse. For example, you could smell like a Gnoll's armpit. In Katapesh. On a really hot day."
Jemini had been waiting at Oleg's barely an hour after the sun had broken the first light onto the plains - abiding by the missive that expected her to be present here at this very day. The missive had included a small pouch of gold to procure supplies and the instructions to represent her house and lead a small host into the Stolen Lands.
Seeing the two unlikely couple approach, Jemini speaks out: "Hail! Travelers!" She nods curtly at them as they approach. "I am Lady Jemini of Lebeda; with whom do I have the pleasure?"
Taisper watches as an exotic-looking female elf clops by on her horse. His feet and back twinge. He claps Verik on the back. "I will admit, though, that I should have let you talk me into buying horses back in New Stetven. Then we wouldn't be the ones having to hoof it.
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'Hoof it' Eh? Get it? Hah?"
He elbows his cousin good-naturedly.
As the cousins come into view of Oleg's, a woman comes out from behind the palisade to meet them. She rushes to them and grabs them into a hug. "I'm so glad you're here!" The woman is young and pretty, in a rather plain way right at home on the frontier. Her accent is provincial, indicating that she had lived out on the frontier her whole life. "I'm Svetlana Leveton. Welcome, welcome!" She leads them towards the old fort rather enthusiastically. "We've been sending word to Restov every chance we got, but we were beginning to think that they'd never send anyone! Come on in, boys, I'll make you dinner and get you settled."
As she spots Tandlara and Jemini, her face lights up even more. "Well, I'll say! How many people did Restov send?"
Zander was standing guard at the campsite outside Restov that had served as a base of operations for the followers of Milani for the past months. As he was sitting on a log and sharpening an arrow, Lorek, the blind oracle who has been his mentor and travelling companion for the past years, approached and sat down next to him. The old man stared off into the night for a time and then began to speak. "Zander my boy, I've been keeping something from you." The hairs on the back of Zander's neck shot up and he turned to Lorek as the oracle continued to speak, "Three months ago I was delivered a vision in the night. I saw you, many years from now. You were a father of a kingdom. You and a handful of others had founded a nation. A nation where all men and women were equals and were united for the common good."
Zander began to laugh, "You must have had too much to drink that night old man! Me, the founder a kingdom? Perhaps Milani was playing a prank with your mind!"
Zander's laughter was cut short by a bonk on his head by the old man's walking stick. "You'd do well to listen to what I have to say! This was a true vision from The Everbloom herself and I acted on it."
"You did what?!" Zander asked, rubbing the growing bump on his head.
"I acted. I had heard rumors some time ago of unsettled lands to the south and it would seem that the Swordlords are chartering groups of adventurous souls to settle them. With a bit of work, we were able to get your name on the list and I have procured for you a charter to begin exploration of the lands south of here." said Lorek as he passed a rolled sheet of parchmet to Zander, who could only look on too shocked to speak. "I have gathered some provisions for you and you set out tomorrow morning. I am told that you are to meet up with another group of adventurers at a trading post in the south who share your mission. You must do this Zander. I know it is difficult for you to trust others, but you must. It is your destiny."
Zander was still speachless and could do nothing more than stare at the charter he held in his hands bearing the offical seal of the Swordlords of Restov. The next morning he said his goodbyes to Lorek and set out on the road, headed to the place on his map where Lorek had instructed him to meet up with the other adventurers heading south. As he travelled his mind raced thinking about Lorek's vision, Milani's teachings, and the path that had led him here. Most of all he thought of the people he was to be traveling with and what they would be like. He hoped they were all blind, and then laughed at the absurdity of the thought and smiled.
Four days had passed since Zander set out from the Milani campsite on the road south. As he walks along the final stretch of his journey his thoughts are on the future. He wonders if his old mentor's vision could truly come true and if it did, what sort of nation he would father. As he turns a bend in the road around a great weeping willow tree he spots sight of the trading post. As he draws nearer he sees the gathering near the gates and with a deep breath to gather his courage, he advances towards the group.
Jemini relaxes a bit, it seemed that things were not quite as well organized as she had hoped and expected - but in hindsight it did collaborate with what her mother had told her. Jemini, a war is building underfoot; what you will be doing is to draw out, and hopefully eliminate the need, this war. As such a lot of things will be set into motion, but they will move quietly. Keep this in mind as you travel. And remember to write! Lebeda's future walks with you...
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Verik sighs, pointedly ignoring the "joke", "Ah they were on their last legs anyway cousin. We would probably be carrying them by now, and I would smell even worse."
To Jemini he offers a weary bow, "We are humble representatives of the Church of Abadar," he glances at Taisper ruefully, "well, I'm humble. I am Verik Jarrow, and this is my cousin Taisper Stozs. Here to answer Rostov's call on behalf of the Church." He waves the charter vaguely.
Walking on he is pleasantly surprised by the warmth and enthusiasm of Svetlana's greeting. "Pleased to meet you Madam, I am Verik Jarrow priest of Abadar. As to how many were sent... Well I must confess I am unclear, I know a number of the charters were given to the Church, but only of myself and my cousin making the journey. I know not to whom else Restov granted writs of exploration, but I am sure we shall find out in due course."
Unsure of exactly how to proceed in a situation like this, Zander moves up slowly and listens to the others' conversations as he approaches.
'This isn't going to go well... keep your cool... just relax. They're probably good people... everything will be fine. Hells, Lorek how did you talk me into this?'
'Good day human lady. I am unaware of the formal address, is it the same as in Taldor 60 years ago? Was it sixty... Nevermind. Yes a firm and suppien pleasure.'
The elven woman smiles an dismountes from her horse, all the while gazing directly into Jemini's eyes, almost staring it a single minded intent. As she gracefully sets foot on the ground, a rat crawls out from a puch amid the bones at her waist and begins to claw its way up her tunic. She smiles again as the aged grey rat reaches her shoulder, she walks over to Svetlana.
'Good day human lady. Are you the owner and proprietor of this place? Oh and are these fine young men here with charters aswell. There's a woman in very fetching light armor looking a little offput with one too. She's very pretty is she not?' Tandlara smiles her small smile again, gazing into the eyes of Svetlana, Verrik and Taispar in turn. Humans and their endless flings and romances. No heart beats quicker! No doubt they'll be lovers by nightfall and enemies in a week. Her smile widens, but still doesn't quite reach her sharp eyes as she turns to look back up the road.
'And someone else is coming to join the party? Great!'
'Oh, Lady Svetlana, could we stable my horse? Avanatra has done all the walking over the last few days.'
As Tandlara points out his presence Zander starts a bit, clears his throat and blurts out, "Ah yes, hello everybody. I also have a charter and am here to do some exploring of lands and striving against banditry and those sorts of things. Um, yes. Hello."
With an unseen nervous smile Zander feel relieved that these people can probably not see how much he's sweating underneath his mask right now.
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Verik's cheeks redden slightly as the slender elven woman, draws his attention to Jemini's looks. In his present state of grumpy wretchedness he had failed to note her looks, and as such neglected to put his foot in his mouth and generally act like a half-wit. Of course the elf had neatly put and end to that.
Don't blush, don't blush, don't blush! He thought fervently as he felt his face heat and pictured the relentless red wave spreading across his face consuming feckle after freckle in its mad rush to total occupation of his face and neck.
He seizes upon the masked fellows arrival with relief and hurries over to him - wishing he had a mask of his own at the moment, "A pleasure. Verik Jarrow, servant of Abadar. Hopefully we can work together. There's strength in numbers and all that, and I'd rather hand bandits than become a pincushion so it behooves me, us, to seek out like minded companions. might I ask your name?"
As his cousin introduces the two of them, Taisper looks at Jemini and smiles. He waves goofily and mouths the word "hello!" when Verik mentions him by name.
To Svetlana: "Dinner! Oh, Svetlana! Well met, my friend! I am Taisper, I come from Alkenstar and right now I feel like I could eat this whole trading post. Oh! Hey, maybe you can help us! You see, my cousin Verik -- that's Verik, say Hi, Verik -- and I are engaged in a philosophical debate of terrible depth and great import; which do you think smells worse, an ogre's armpit, or a gnoll's armpit in Katapesh on a hot day?"
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Verik shoots his cousin an exasperated glance, "How can it be a debate if I never disagreed with you? Its plain that gnolls would have a more pungent smell because their greater proportional amount of body hair..." he stops short and scowls, having been drawn in yet again by his infuriatingly whimsical cousin.
Thinking on the matter, Zander decides that Verik is probably right, but keeps his decision to himself for the time being.
'These two are interesting fellows indeed,' Zander muses to himself.
Taisper takes in his cousin's last comment. "Well, there you go! See? Family is in agreeance, the gears turn smoothly. All is well. Nonetheless, Lady Svetlana, I would value your opinion, should you care to give it."
Looking around at the whole party, Taisper makes eye contact with everyone, slowly and in turn. He inclines his head politely to each, and will shake hands with anyone willing. It is plain to anyone who wants to check that Taisper is completely sincere in his efforts at friendship, and equally oblivious to any faux pas.
"Hello, Jemini, was it? Hello." He offers his hand to Zander, "Hello sir, I'm Taisper, hoping to end some banditry myself." he moves to Tandlara "Hello ma'am, oh hey, great rat! Your pet? Or familiar? That reminds of my uncle. My uncle Tipsy Stozs back in Alkenstar, he travels a lot, stayed in a hotel once he said was so small, the mice were hunchbacks. Said his room was so tiny he put in the key and broke the window. But then, he's a complainer."
Taisper smiles winningly, and will follow Svetlana as she leads them back, but always staying in earshot of the group.
Zander accepts Taisper's outstretched hand and gives a nod. "Good to meet you Taisper," he replies somewhat formally.
Svetlana happily greets everyone, even after Sander and Tandlara's unusual introductions. She seems to take a particular shine to Taisper. "My, I feel safer already. Let's get inside so my husband can explain things while I get you something to eat. Does anyone have any special requests?"
Svetlana happily greets everyone, even after Sander and Tandlara's unusual introductions. She seems to take a particular shine to Taisper. "My, I feel safer already. Let's get inside so my husband can explain things while I get you something to eat. Does anyone have any special requests?"
To Svetlana: "Only that you let me buy the first round of drinks for everybody, if I could." Then, so everyone can hear: "Hey, first round is on me, everybody, pleasure to meet you all!"
Starting to feel more comfortable around this boisterous man, Zander replies, "That's very gracious of you. You have my thanks," and follows the rest of the party through the gateway and into the trading post proper.
The city of Restov offered little to sooth Berrin as he arrived there. A man on the run with bloddied gold burning a hole in his pocket he was to restless to find any comfort in the familiar taverns or the warm embrases of willing women. The food was tastless and the ale bitter, the girls smiles never reached their eyes and buddies looked to his purse more than anything. Berrin had never been so lonely in his life.
Walking the cities streets in melancholy unfamiliar to him, glancing around suspiciously and jumping at shadows, he heard the heralds cryes through his guilt foged mind. "Adventurers needed! Claim back the Stole Lands! By the order of Lord Mayor Ioseph Sellimus, a call is sent out! A call for able-bodyed men! A call to quell the rising threat of banditry from the south! Adventurers needed! Claim back th..." Standing there listening to the cryer Berrin experienced hope again.
Visions of tasks ahead, visions of unclaimed lands, of better fortunes.
With a fire in his soul he rushed away to his quarters. Gathering his gear he set of fully armored to applie for the charter. Staring holes into the weasly clerk who told him to wait in line, scowling at the various aplicants as hesitant smiles or glances were cast his way he promptly told the comitee that he was going. Charter or no. Either impressed with his fervor or afraid of it, they handed him a bag of gold and the charter. Weighing it in his hand he nodded and left, bought supplies and started walking west.
Making his way to the trading post was easyer sayd than done, relieing on his compass to guide him Berrin took the wrong turn more than once. Finally on the 22 Pharast he saw a thin white plume of smoke over the crest of a hill, invigorated again he hustles the last mile with a smile on his face. Seeing the outpost turns the smile into a grin and his pace quickens at the thought of a warm meal and a soft bed, 'Perhaps they have a charming maid?'
Drawing near he hears the buzz of conversation. Striding into the outpost he grinns as he looks over group present. A pretty farmers wife, an elf with a bone fetish, a pudgy pale skinned boy, a strikingly simmilar boy and a... 'Well hello!' Standing with the group is the most beutifull woman Berrin had ever seen. Her long hair falling perfectly over her shoulders, her stern gaze as apealing as can be and her armor fitting her curves most snuggly.
Dropping his pack with a thud he clears his throat and introduces himself. "Hello. I'm Berrin. Are you the agents of the Swoard Loards I'm supposed to meat here? This is Oleg's Trading post isn't it?"
'Oh good! Another fellow! Hello Berrin,' Tandlara pipes up after her momentary silence.
'A rather brutal looking fellow!' she comments to the gathered others, with lowering her volume. 'Probably bathes in his enemies' blood! Humans still do that don't they?' She smiles again, before turning to Svetlana.
'I only ask for somewhere to stable Avantara safely. My horse that is! Not my rat!' She smiles at Taispar with the last comment, though she doesn't answer the question.
"Hah! Good one!" he barks at the elfs comment. Picking up his pack he heads for the house. "A bath sounds good though." he says and winks at the lady in chain. "It'd be good to wash the grime off eh?
Jemini is pleased with the turn-out. Not knowing what to expect made her quite amendable to have any semblance of a result. Taisper's bid to buy drinks for all did catch her somewhat unprepared. "Drinks? As of 2 hours ago the charter is in effect and your presence here obligates your actions towards its fulfillment. Carousing most definitely will not help in this matter," she catches herself, noticing the attending blank faces. Maybe I need to lighten up on them; carrot and stick. She concedes, smiling, "...but... I do believe it would be rude to deny our hosts the chance to cater for us; but in moderation."
Is this enough to recognize and recall who Zander Orlovsky really is?
Zander bristles at the haughty woman's demeanor and her half-hearted attempt at niceties.
'This noble wench thinks she can boss us around just because of her station and shiny boots?'
He makes a mental note to watch her carefully.
"Svetlana? Where's Oleg? I suppose you two would have been informed on Restov's plans. I would like to hear more of them."
Svetlana's smile falters when she hears Jemini's question. "What do you mean? Aren't you here to take care of the bandits who have been threatening us? One of our suppliers said that he heard that Restov was sending someone to help."
As she says this, she leads them inside the palisade. Oleg is up on a ladder, thatching a roof on one of the buildings. He appears busy, or at least wants to give that impression. He looks somewhat precariously perched on the ladder, as one of his arms is in a sling.
Svetlana's smile falters when she hears Jemini's question. "What do you mean? Aren't you here to take care of the bandits who have been threatening us? One of our suppliers said that he heard that Restov was sending someone to help."
As she says this, she leads them inside the palisade. Oleg is up on a ladder, thatching a roof on one of the buildings. He appears busy, or at least wants to give that impression. He looks somewhat precariously perched on the ladder, as one of his arms is in a sling.
When Berrin arrives, Taisper is sure to step forward. "Berrin! Hi! Hey I'm Taisper, it's great to meet you. We were just heading to the inn, first drink's on me!"
Then, noticing Oleg, Taisper walks over to the ladder. "Sir?! Excuse me, uh, sir? Can I be of assistance? My name's Taisper, don't you have anyone to help you with that? A son, or nephew, or some family? Even some laborers, maybe? I'm not much for construction work but I'll certainly help if I can."
Oleg gruffly responds to the enthusiastic youth as he climbs down the ladder. Using his shoulder to wipe his brow, he coolly says, "Well, Taisper, I'm Oleg. This here's my trading post. I've been able to get by for the most part on my own. My wife shouldn't have sent for you. I've got these damn vultures under control."
Svetlana runs up to Oleg and puts her arm in his (good) arm. "Oleg, they're here to help us. Be hospitable!" She takes Tandlara's horse and leads him to the stable. "Once you all get settled, we can talk. We don't have much by way of luxuries, so you might have to form a line if you want somewhere to bathe." She indicates the building that Oleg was just repairing. "This is the guest house, where you can put your things. Let me get started on some lunch and you can join us when you're ready. Come on, Oleg." Oleg grumpily follows, clearly unhappy.
Looking around the trading post, it's clear that it was once a fort. Old, broken-down catapults sit unused in each corner of the walkway on the inside of the walls. A stable that will fit maybe half a dozen horses stands to the left of the entrance, while a storage area and modest house fill the rest of the courtyard.
Taisper watches Oleg and Sventlana walk off. "Nice folks." he says to himself, then goes to the guest house.
Setting his backpack down, Taisper lets out a sigh. "Whew. Nice to be rid of this, even if just for a while." He thinks for a moment about the broken-down catapults in the corners of this place, and Oleg's broken arm. His eyes narrow for a moment, then he picks his shield back up and puts it on his back where his backpack had been. He also makes sure his morningstar and crossbow are secure along with the quiver of bolts strapped to his thigh. His key, as always is secure.
Whistling to himself, he pulls some coins out to pay for drinks as he walks to where lunch will be served.
When Taisper walks into the main house, Svetlana is preparing some food in the kitchen. "Just sit in the guest room, Taisper, and I'll get some food for you. Drinks, too. It's on the house, but you can tell the others that you paid. It'll be our little secret!"
"Hahahahaaaa!" Taisper laughs warmly. "Oh, I couldn't do that. I'll just lay low and hope it doesn't come up. Thank you for your hospitality! I hope we can repay you and take care of these...these bandits? You're having troubles with?"
Taisper seats himself in the guest room and awaits the rest of the party, making idle chitchat with Svetlana as he does so.
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Verik is greatly taken with the talk of baths, but seeing Olaf's injury quickly erodes his mundane concerns and he hurries over to the man.
"Pleased to make your acquaintance Olaf, I'm Verik, a priest of ABadar, mind if I take a look at your arm?" Assuming Olaf does not object, he chants a call for Abadar's grace and his hand begins to glow with a warm golden light that moves more like water. He lays his palm upon Olaf's injured arm and the light flows forth gently lapping at the man's injuries and easing the worst of them away. "Better?" Verik inquires.
As Svetlana leads them inside he assure her, "Oh do not worry we are honor bound to deal with bandits, it is after all the point of our charters. I cannot speak for my comrades, but for myself Abadar could not have sign posted more clearly where we might start tackling these criminal vermin."
Seeing the accommodations is a nasty shock for the young priest who is by no means used to unisex sleeping arrangements. "You mean the men and women are to share? Ah, um, is that, ah, quite proper?" He asks swallowing, and this time managing to turn white rather than red.
Oleg thanks him rather curtly. "I appreciate it. My name is Oleg, hence Oleg's trading post. There was no sense on wasting good money on a healing potion." He takes his arm out of the sling, stretching and moving it around. "I'll be inside if you need me. Like Svetlana said, make yourself at home."
Oleg gruffly responds to the enthusiastic youth as he climbs down the ladder. Using his shoulder to wipe his brow, he coolly says, "Well, Taisper, I'm Oleg. This here's my trading post. I've been able to get by for the most part on my own. My wife shouldn't have sent for you. I've got these damn vultures under control."
Jemini is taken aback, on the one hand it is clear to her that Restov in no way prepared these poor souls for their mission; on the other hand her heart goes out to the man who stoically defies all odds.
"Good sir, I believe there is a slight misunderstanding. As much as your wife's supplication has churned the waters in Restov - we have not been issued to help this trading post," she addresses him. "Instead, we form part of a larger commitment by Brevoy to explore and tame these wilds - and in doing so also render the fell banditry void." She pauses for a moment to let the words sink in, "it is fortuitous that this means that we are an ideal position to help you; and doing so will be our honor. If we can strike a blow to the bandits here at Oleg's Trading Post - then our expedition sends a clear message to the wrongdoers and it won't be long before the last of them flees or is met with justice."
"Hehee.. Yes!" Can be heard from Berrin as hears about the lodging arangements. Hurrying inside he quickly selects a bunk, kicking his pack under it and stripping his armor.
His gear stowed he makes his way into the main house, hoping for a bath and food. "I stink like a bear fresh out of hybernation! Any chance of that bath? Would you like me to take the tub outside while you warm the water? I doubt you'll want my boots smelling up the place when I take them off." he says to Svetlana.
Tandlara sits on one of the benches just outside the guest house, her legs folded smoothly beneath her, her rat pacing back and forth across her shoulders.
Her slight bemused smile never leaves her face as she watches the humans hustle and bustle back and forth.
When Verrik voices his mild concern she pipes up however, for the first time in a while.
'But Verrik, young dear. It's no diffferent to sharing a campsite? Surely you'd not deny me,' she smiles more widely at him, 'Or any of our companions shared warmth if we were to huddle together in a single tent in a blizzard?'
'No, Verrik! I think your a well meaning boy! Why I'm sure you'd cuddle in with the rest of us if we were so threatened by the elements! So what's three of four feet of seperation! A vast gulf! Your chastity will remain untarnished!'
She beams at him again, before returning to looking idly into space, abosrbing the energy and sounds of the gathering.
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Verik - doing a passable impersonation of a tomato - stares at Tandlara for a moment, before managing to stammer, "I, uh, circumstances, dictates of practicality, ah, propriety, um, endure elements... Excuse me!" Before fleeing around the nearest corner at something just short of a run.
Safely out of sight the young cleric mops his brow, momentarily indulges in some speculation about the situation the elven woman described.
"I should have said Tandalar could huddle together with Jemini..." He says, before concluding that this is little better, or possibly too much better. And of course this brings the horrible thought of having to huddle together with Taisper, who would no doubt be far too cheerful when freezing to death.
After reciting the tenants of Abadar, and making a mental list of profoundly unstimulating things - and pointedly not thinking about his one amorous encounter with Acolyte Kerrianna and her lovely lips - he manages to compose himself and returns to the group.
After overhearing the exchange between Tandlara and Verik, Jemini swallows a little laughter - her hand pressed before her mouth in a slightly unladylike manner. She takes a little moment to recover as she watches Verik storm for safety; then bows towards Tandlara. "It is rare to find a child of Kyonin walking amongst us. Even rarer still to find one allying her cause with that of ours. And most rare of all, one who would have a priest of Abadar blush like a youth barely old enough to look at girls. I shall count our endeavor blessed indeed. Pray tell, what has brought you to march for Brevoy?"
"It is rare to find a child of Kyonin walking amongst us. Even rarer still to find one allying her cause with that of ours. And most rare of all, one who would have a priest of Abadar blush like a youth barely old enough to look at girls. I shall count our endeavor blessed indeed. Pray tell, what has brought you to march for Brevoy?"
Tandlara smiles up at Jemini. 'He is a youth though. Isn't he?'
She pauses to think for a second, before shaking her head slightly and gazing back up at Jemini.
'I haven't been a child of Kyonin for a long time, lady. I'm a somewhat more adrift member of my species, Forlorn some call me. Too long with humans, it's driven me mad. Supposedly.' She winks subtly at Jemini, but her calm remains undiminished.
'I've always been willing to walk with humans. You're creatures with capability for greatness, be it villainy of heroism. And I like to make nudges in the right direction. Though I'd be lying if I said it was totally altruistic. I find you all refreshingly excitable!'
'Sorry! I'm terrible at answering questions! Always think I have a few months to ramble! I'm in southern Brevoy for the same reason as I suspect you are. The Stolen Lands are stirring, bandits are only the beginning. And I'm here to help.'
Jemini reciprocates the warmth she receives from Tandlara, "I suppose all of us are still around the age where elves are barely considered fledglings." She looks over to Taisper, "You, and the priest, seem quite close - in spite of your obvious differences. Do you suppose he'll be alright?"
With a nod of greeting to Oleg, Zander follows the party at a slight distance into the guest house, lays his pack next to an empty bunk and takes a seat. Hardly able to remember the last time that he had a bath, he is quite enticed by the concept.
He watches the exchange between Tandlara and Verik with amusement, but his amusement is cut short as his thoughts lead him to the realization that these shared sleeping quarters mean that he'll likely have to keep his mask on all night. Never before has he had to share such close quarters with strangers - on the road he always shared a tent or a room at the inns with his blind mentor and never had to worry about being seen as he slept.
'Perhaps I'll sneak out once night falls and take my bedroll up near one of those catapults. I'm unlikely to be found up there and can keep a bit of a watch in case trouble comes in the night,' Zander thinks to himself.
With everyone finding their way into the dining room, Svetlana cheerily prepares lunch while Oleg quietly stands in the corner of the kitchen with his arms crossed. Seeing them together, they are a funny pair. Oleg is about fifteen years older than his wife, but occasional glances between them show a depth of love and caring. It is the only time that he does not look gruff and angry.
Svetlana serves each of them some elk meat and fresh bread, along with some red wine. "Here you go!" She excitedly watches them start, clearly happy to be making lunch for them. As they eat, she fills them in on the bandits. "We got here six months ago to fix up this old fort and turn it into a trading post. We thought that it was the chance of a lifetime! Three months ago, though, a dozen bandits came to the post, saying that the Stag Lord demanded a tax collection." She begins to cry a little, but keeps herself mostly composed. "They threatened... They said they would do terrible things unless Oleg handed over most of our stock and money. What could we do? A month after that, half a dozen of them came back. Last month, they came back again. One of them demanded my wedding ring." She puts her hand on Oleg's back in a hug. "Oleg refused, saying that they could have anything else, but not that. Their leader broke his arm and said they would do worse to him, so I handed it over. It's just a ring."
Clearly shaken up, she looks to them with big doe eyes. "Will you help us? They always come on the 23rd of each month at dawn. That's tomorrow! Just one day and we'll pay you what we can to help, please!"