Jamison falls in line behind Euron, concerned with tracking the beasts.
'Twould be a damned shame if more 'o these things existed. Can't have 'em carryin' children off inter the night.
The cleric punctuates this thought with a generous stream of tobacco juice, placed off to one side so as not to disrupt the tracks.
Nodding at Tyr's words, Hiram ponders out loud...
Sure, but them worgs ain't natural. Mayhaps we speak with the Priestess back at the Temple, less Jay-dub's got sommethin' to say on it...even if we don't make cloaks, we could sell 'em for temple alms...
As the others work on searching the area, Hiram works on skinning the wargs, dropping meat and carcass out in the woods, to let them be consumed by the natural forest.
As he does, he says a prayer, "Thanks for the fur, feed the locals as you will."
Bump in preparation of resuming...
Holy cow! Has it really been since July?!?!
Ayuh, same, hoss.
*pt-DING!* <--- sound of chaw in spitoon.
Moo.
The companions mull the implications of the worg ambush and the decayed body snared in the bear trap. While Hiram skins the worgs, Euron and Niko search for the creatures’ tracks. The druid and wolf initially find worg tracks throughout the underbrush surrounding the clearing, but quickly determine that the worg tracks lead eastward back to the edge of the forest, near the point where the companions left the plains to follow the calls of distress.
Once Hiram finishes his bloody work, the companions wend their way back along the twisting game trail and exit the forest of the Narlmarches. They are greeted warmly by the relieved Hardesty women, and even the bandit prisoners smile to see the heroes return. Without further ado the companions mount up and the caravan continues heading north-northwest. The rest of the day passes uneventfully as the wagon train travels across the rolling grassland . The monotonous terrain is broken every once in a while by the sight of distant woodsmoke curling into the sky. According to Ol’ Nell, several small farmsteads lie scattered across the plains to the east – even the crazy old potion-maker Bokken reportedly lives in the area.
By evening the companions come across a familiar sight: the South Rostland Road! By Euron’s estimation, the party is only a half-day’s ride from Olegs. The group makes camp near a roadside shrine to Erastil , and the night passes uneventfully.
The morning dawns bright and clear, without a cloud in the sky. Euron determines that a group of several heavily-laden wagons recently passed down the road heading towards Oleg’s, likely no more than a day ahead of the group. Heartened by their proximity to their destination, the companions eat a cold breakfast and quickly get on their way.
The miles pass quickly, and by noon the small caravan approaches the wooden walls of Oleg’s Trading Post. Six wagons bearing various goods are parked outside the walls near a newly-constructed barracks, with numerous horses hitched nearby. One of Kesten Garess’ men (Stefan? Or maybe Petros) hails the group as they approach, his expression changing from one of polite detachment to happy surprise when he realizes their identities. ”Welcome back!” he calls in friendly greeting. ”Looks like you picked up some friends along the way! This place keeps getting busier and busier!”
Passing through the gates, the intrepid group sees several travelers seated at the tables eating their noon meal. Gilbert and Mik move about the tables, serving the various patrons. At one table off to the side the gnome bard Berenkor sits speaking intently with Oleg, Kesten Garess, and another familiar face – Harther Medvyed!
Stepping back into the courtyard, Euron's beard is noticeably shorter. The druid looks at everyone self-consciously and quickly comments on the change.
"Eh, I knew ye'd all be lookin'. Got somethin' stuck in it I did, and it needed a good trim."
Niko glances up affectionately at his master and with a half-bark seems to chuckle at the druid's sudden lack of confidence when it comes to grooming.
"Ah, and the patch was startin' to stink like a dead gobber, seems the eye's workin' a bit better than usual so I tossed it."
With a large hand he grabs any available food and eats enough for two men.
"Feels like it's been months since I ate..." he mumbles between bites.
Karthas calls out to the Hardesty women as the group approaches the wooden walls... "Welcome to Oleg's. You'll be safe here."
Turning his attention to the prisoners... "You on the other hand I haven't decided about yet."
”Welcome back!” he calls in friendly greeting. ”Looks like you picked up some friends along the way! This place keeps getting busier and busier!”
"Good to be back. I quite pleased to see Oleg's business has picked up. As for the friends, don't we always seem to be coming back with someone else?"
Once inside the trading post, the massive Kellid takes the Hardesty women to get a bit to eat and drink, introducing them to Svetlana along the way. Once the women are settled, he then gets some food and drink for himself and moves to a table to eat. Spotting Oleg, Kesten, Berenkor, and Harther, Karthas smiles and nods in the direction of the four...
"Good to see you again. Harther, good to see that your travels have been safe. Oleg, by chance did that sword come in while I was away?"
”Aye, it did. Along with Mistress Eseldra’s order, too,” Oleg responds, clapping Karthas’ shoulder in welcome as he rises to his feet to clear a spot at the table. ”Came in with Master Harther’s caravan. But I’ll let him fill you in while I see to your mounts. Good to see you back!”
”Good to see you, Karthas!” Harther exclaims, gripping the Kellid’s forearm in a warrior’s clasp. ”You too, Tyr and Eseldra,” he greets his former companions warmly. ”And you as well, Euron, Jamison, Cinders, and Hiram,” the ranger greets the newer members of the group. ”Looks like you all had another successful foray into the Narlmarches. Did you see Rani?” How’s the temple coming along?”
”Yes! And what other grand adventures did you all have?” Berenkor pipes in. ”Your group left here with a priest and a kobold, but return with three wagons bearing trade goods, women, and - if I’m not mistaken - captured bandits as well! I smell a story of grand adventure here.”
”Captured bandits, you say?” Kesten Garess asks, squinting over toward the newcomers. ”I’d better go see to securing them. We’re going to have to build a jail soon if you all keep this up. Welcome back, by the way,” Garess says with a welcoming smile as he rises and leaves the table.
”Berenkor told me that the Swordlords issued you a new charter to capture the Stag Lord, dead or alive,” Harther adds. ”Have you all had any luck in tracking him down?”
"Oh where to start. Well, first of all we took the priest Berenkor mentioned to the Temple. Rani is well, and making great progress, you really should stop by sometime, the place looks completely different." A bit of mischief sneaks its way into the Kellid's grin as he continues, "Hell, Mikmek was so moved by what he saw there he even gave up his fascination with Eseldra and opted to stay with Rani and Jhod at the temple."
Turning his attention to Harther in particular, "I suppose the wagons we brought back with us will be of particular interest to you. They bare your family crest. We questioned the surviving bandits about how they came about having the wagons, but unfortunately for all of my...persuasive abilities they were unable to tell us anything useful, saying that their leader had captured the wagons about six months ago." the Kellid places his hand on Harther's shoulder, "I'm sorry my friend, I was unable to find out if there were any survivors from the raid or where they may be."
"Along with the wagons, we were able to free a four women from a wretched fate, you see they were to be delivered to the Stag Lord. Ol' Nell, brews a mean cup of 'medicine'...I'm sure you can imagine what he had in mind for the three young ladies. Here in a bit I'll introduce you to them all, you in particular Berenkor. It seems Vianne is rather interested in our earlier adventures as the Chartered Six. I tried to tell the stories, but told her that you were much better at that sort of thing."
"We have managed to get a bit better idea about where the Stag Lord stays. He says, pulling out the map. "You see, we just haven't gone far enough south yet. Don't worry, we'll get the bastard."
"Along our way back up here to Oleg's we ran across that purple kobold again, unfortunately he managed to escape again...damned spell-slingers." Catching himself he almost sheepishly grins at Euron, Eseldra, Cinders, Jamison, and Berenkor. [/b]"Present company and Rani excluded of course."[/b] he says, realizing he travels with a fair number of 'spell-slingers'
"That's enough about us for now, how have you folks been?"
Eseldra allows a rare, small smile upon seeing the humble trading post finally come into view. She gives a small sigh of relief when the group finally passes through its gates and into relative safety.
Eseldra even finds herself in good enough humour that when Karthas starts shooting his mouth off about "damned spell-slingers", she affords him one of her frosty stares, "slings" a spell (prestidigitation), and Karthas suddenly finds his facial skin turning purple and kobold like.
Noticing the chuckles of others and the expression on Eseldra's face, Karthas grumbles...
"Damnit Eseldra, I said present company excluded..."
"I suppose the wagons we brought back with us will be of particular interest to you. They bare your family crest. We questioned the surviving bandits about how they came about having the wagons, but unfortunately for all of my...persuasive abilities they were unable to tell us anything useful, saying that their leader had captured the wagons about six months ago." the Kellid places his hand on Harther's shoulder, "I'm sorry my friend, I was unable to find out if there were any survivors from the raid or where they may be."
Harther’s eyes widen in surprise at Karthas’ news. ”Medvyed wagons? Captured six months ago, you say? But… that would be right around the time that my father’s caravan was raided…” Harther contemplates this news until Karthas finishes summarizing the group’s latest adventures. ”Excuse me,” Harther says as he rises to his feet. ”I need to go check those wagons. I’ll be back in a moment.”
”Did you say you ran into the Sootscales’ erstwhile shaman, Tartuk?” Berenkor asks as Harther leaves to inspect the wagons. The gnome bard then bursts into laughter as Eseldra’s cantrip gives Karthas’ skin a scaly purple appearance . ”I’ll take that as a yes,” Berenkor says, chuckling. ”It’s interesting that you encountered him, because while you were away I managed to translate the journal we found in his belongings. It seems our friend Tartuk was not born a kobold, but a gnome! His journal tells the tale of how he was killed in a fight against a group of ogres who were tormenting the village in which he grew up. The village, sorrowed by his death in bravely defending their village, unanimously voted to restore him to life - so they decided to use a scroll of reincarnate that had sat in the village treasury for years. In an ironic twist of fate, poor Tartuk came back as a kobold!”
”Scandalized, the village didn't know how to react. Tartuk knew, however. He hadn't meant to give his life to save the village. He'd actually been trying to surrender to the ogres and offer to help them destroy the village for sparing his life, but the ogres crushed him before he got his offer out.”
”Once he was brought back, the fact that his scales were the same deep purple color as his hair only ensured his shame. Enraged, he fled into the woods near his village, nursing a deep grudge. He found a tribe of kobolds, joined them, used his magic and manipulative lies to rally them, and led his new army in an attack against his old village. The resulting battle was fierce, and only Tartuk survived the fighting.”
”Since then, the journal tells of how the mad gnome/kobold has drifted through several of the River Kingdoms, periodically haunting towns and murdering gnomes he finds. It also goes on to speak of how he has insinuated himself into several other kobold tribes, taking them over from within, and forcing them into wars they can't possible win.”
”The journal details his frustration that the Sootscales seemed to be winning their conflicts with the mites. Tartuk smuggled the statue of Old Sharptooth out when most of the other kobolds were sleeping in order to place it somewhere the mites would surely find it. Two kobolds spotted him, but Tartuk killed them and used a prestidigitation cantrip to make their scales turn yellow. After he removed the statue, he used their bodies to add weight to his story of a ‘curse.’ Once he found out our group was going to help recover the statue, he decided he was going to provoke a fight between the the Sootscales and us, hoping we would wipe the tribe out and he could escape to terrorize another day. To bad for him that he didn’t foresee Chief Sootscales developing a strong enough spine to stand up to him.” Berenkor concludes.
Cinders shakes her head sadly. "A sad tale," she says. "But it seems he was only getting his just desserts."
She finds herself a seat at a table and grabs some food that she only picks at a little.
Harther returns and sits down heavily as Berenkor finishes his tale. ”They are indeed my father’s wagons. There’s a spot on one of them where my brother and I carved our initials when we were boys…” his voice trails off.
After a few moments the ranger raises his gaze toward his companions, a new fire lighting his eyes. ”I assume you killed their leader? Good. Then I’d say you’ve definitely earned a reward for your service to House Medvyed. My brother is sending me to open a new trade relationship with the River Kingdom of Pitax - it seems they have a new ruler who aspires to turn their kingdom into a center of culture and higher learning. My wagons are carrying all manner of goods that may be of interest to the new king and the people of Pitax, including examples of Brevoy’s finest craftsmanship in weapons and armor as well as some minor magical items. Karthas and Eseldra, your new weapons are on me, with my thanks. As is your new recorder, Eseldra. Tyr, I have another finely crafted greatsword as well as a suit of chainmail that you might be interested in . Mistress Cinders, Masters Euron, Jamison, and Hiram - please help yourself to any of my goods that you may find useful . Finally, I’ll trade you for any or all of the goods you returned with that are on the wagons you recovered at full market value . Don’t worry, I’ll work it out with Oleg - he's in for an increase in business if our new trade route is successful. If you all get rid of the Stag Lord and his bandits, that is.”
Harther returns and sits down heavily as Berenkor finishes his tale. ”They are indeed my father’s wagons. There’s a spot on one of them where my brother and I carved our initials when we were boys…” his voice trails off.
After a few moments the ranger raises his gaze toward his companions, a new fire lighting his eyes. ”I assume you killed their leader? Good. Then I’d say you’ve definitely earned a reward for your service to House Medvyed. My brother is sending me to open a new trade relationship with the River Kingdom of Pitax - it seems they have a new ruler who aspires to turn their kingdom into a center of culture and higher learning. My wagons are carrying all manner of goods that may be of interest to the new king and the people of Pitax, including examples of Brevoy’s finest craftsmanship in weapons and armor as well as some minor magical items. Karthas and Eseldra, your new weapons are on me, with my thanks. As is your new recorder, Eseldra. Tyr, I have another finely crafted greatsword as well as a suit of chainmail that you might be interested in . Mistress Cinders, Masters Euron, Jamison, and Hiram - please help yourself to any of my goods that you may find useful . Finally, I’ll trade you for any or all of the goods you returned with that are on the wagons you recovered at full market value . Don’t worry, I’ll work it out with Oleg - he's in for an increase in business if our new trade route is successful. If you all get rid of the Stag Lord and his bandits, that is.”
...
Eseldra looks quite pleased at the gifts and gives Harther a friendly kiss on the cheek. Then she levels another frosty stare (with twitching tail) at Karthas just because and returns to her seat.
Eseldra looks quite pleased at the gifts and gives Harther a friendly kiss on the cheek. Then she levels another frosty stare (with twitching tail) at Karthas just because and returns to her seat.
"Oh get over it Eseldra, I made a comment...what part of barbarian do you not understand. I even managed to catch it myself for once...albeit after the fact."
Tyr putters about the place trying to make himself useful.
Hey at 2600+ posts, it cracked the Top 50 games in terms of overall posts!
Nearly a week has passed since the companions returned from their latest expedition into the Greenbelt. During that time life around Oleg’s Trading Post has been anything but dull. With news of the Chartered Six’s success in defeating multiple bands of brigands in the area, traffic along the South Rostland Road had increased as travel has become safer. Traders and trappers flow through the trading post on a daily basis, keeping Oleg, Svetlana, Gilbert, and Mik busy from dawn to dusk. Kesten Garess and his men - with the help of Tyr Thordinsjon - have begun construction of a permanent barracks as well as a small jail to house captured bandits as they await transfer to Restov for trial. The men have also begun constructing a small house for Nell Hardesty and her granddaughters, the elderly distiller choosing to settle near the trading post and the safety afforded by the small contingent of soldiers.
Before resuming his journey to Pitax, Harther Medvyed invited his former companions to accompany him to the rediscovered temple of Erastil so that he might pay his respects to Rani and Jhod. Karthas, Euron, Hiram, and Jamison joined Harther in his pilgrimage, and were amazed by the continued improvement to the temple and its grounds. The group spent a couple of days at the temple, visiting with Rani, Jhod, Mikmek and the reformed bandits Bregan and Dorn. Similar to their previous stay, Hiram and Jamison both experienced odd, prophetic dreams while sleeping at the temple. As the group prepared to return to Oleg’s, Hiram and Jamison announced their intention to remain at the temple in order to commune with their god to gain understanding of their strange visions.
Karthas, Euron, and Harther returned to Oleg’s to find that Eseldra and Cinders had left. Tyr and Berenkor informed them that Eseldra received word that an elf paladin matching her grandmother’s description had been seen in Mendev. The wizard set out at once, accompanied by the former mercenary Cinders. Eseldra asked Berenkor to relay her apologies to her friends, promising to return in the future if her quest ever led back to the Stolen Lands.
The following day after the group returned from the temple, Tyr received a letter from his family requesting his return to Brevoy. Tyr’s father, a knight in service to House Lodovka, had secured a commission in the Brevic navy for Tyr, and the stoic fighter needed to depart by the next day in order to accept his position aboard ship.
This morning Tyr said his goodbyes to his friends and departed Oleg’s, heading east toward Restov. At the same time, Harther bid his friends farewell and headed west with his trade caravan toward Pitax. The trading post seems somewhat emptier, with the Chartered Six all but disbanded. However, the new day brings new people to Oleg’s, drawn by the thrill of adventure and the hope that the scourge of banditry might soon be lifted from the Greenbelt.
Oleg's Trading Post was once a border fort, and its rough and ready nature is apparent in its fifteen foot wooden palisade wall and the towers on each of its four corners that stand another five feet above that. A catapult stands atop each of the towers, gleaming wood and shining metal fixtures obvious signs of recent repair. In the side of the fort facing the road, a set of thirty foot wide double doors currently stand open. The yard consists of a large thatched roof wooden building, obviously the main house and trading post, a smaller building with much the same construction opposite the common area from the main house, a large fire pit and two tables between the two similar buildings, a moderately sized stable with a roof, and a storehouse between the stable and the main house.
You’re pleasantly surprised to find Oleg’s so prosperous for such an out-of-the-way location, with a small garrison out of the Brevic town of Restov providing security, and much trade traffic in and out of the trading post.
It was only when the traveling group stopped for the evening that the dogs pack-saddles came off, the hat was put down the coat laid to one side and the pole unwrapped.
Thus was revealed a slim Elven woman -short blond hair bouncing around her face- as she went about marking out a square of about ten feet on a side with pegs and string.
Once this had been done, she would take up a position within its center and holding forth great, gleaming curve of metal which was a sword revealed from beneath its wrappings; she would begin to dance. Becoming a twirling, whirling dervish of energy as she and the sword spun and danced. The great blade flashed in the dusk light.
Once she'd finished working through her routine, she would seem to simply sprinkle herself down with obscure hand gestures -an occasional glimmer of the arcane making itself known- before settling her dogs and herself down for the night.
Come morning, the rumpled and baggy ensemble would enfold her and she would wander along beside the caravan once more, her great hounds padding along. All three wandering along, their equally bare feet pattering along across dust, dirt and grass.
(^_^)
Though Edrukk had traveled a bit of these lands as a youth, it had been a long time, and a long journey that brought him back. The dusty looking dwarf was none the less cheerful as he seemed to be talking to himself as he walked along. As he approached the fort, he unconsciously slowed down to take in the sight, accessing the quality of the walls, catapults, and buildings as he approached, as well as the overall defensive position of the fort relative to the surrounding area, even stopping his muttering to do so. As he enters the fort, he takes in the interior of the fort briefly before entering the main building to seek out the owner.
Karthas shakes his head in disbelief as yet another member of the original six leaves. Turning his attention to Berenkor and Harther, the Kellid says, "When we left on this journey, I always assumed I would have been the one to leave our little band of explorers. Seems now that I am the only one left to continue on."
Realizing that some of his words could be taken the wrong way, "No offense meant to you, Euron. I know you have been with us a fair amount of time, just not since the beginning."
The old druid squints back at Karthas, an angered and offended look brewing on his face.
Then, suddenly, it softens into a wide toothy grin and he throws his head and responds with a hearty chuckle.
"None taken, Karthas!"
Chewing on a twig, Euron rubs his calloused hands up and down the length of Niko's back while the wolf stretches and yawns with a nearly human-like quality.
"The Stolen Lands aren't a kindly place. I'm not surprised that it's broken the spirit of so many. I'm sure it's a much easier path to turn back to civilization and leave the explorin' and bandit justice to us real men!"
The druid claps Karthas on the back and nods.
"So, it's just us two. While we were certainly the best warriors, I suggest we find ourselves a couple more folks 'afore we continue. While 'twas no place for a woman, Cinder and Eseldra's magic had come in handy more n' once."
The druid clears his throat.
"And since ye'd be the only one really 'chartered' left, how's about we come up with something better to call ourselves than this Chartered Six?"
Euron gives Karthas a knowing look.
"I don't think that name's exactly going to strike fear into the hearts of bandits o' this Stag-Man if they hear of our exploits."
**
In a low voice Euron meets Karthas' eyes and nods towards the dwarf, /"How about that dwarf there?"/
"So, it's just us two. While we were certainly the best warriors, I suggest we find ourselves a couple more folks 'afore we continue. While 'twas no place for a woman, Cinder and Eseldra's magic had come in handy more n' once."
"As much as I am wary of spell-slingers, it is true. Not to mention Jamison's, and before him Rani's, connection with Old Deadeye was certainly helpful." he says absent-mindedly rubbing one of his many scars.
"And since ye'd be the only one really 'chartered' left, how's about we come up with something better to call ourselves than this Chartered Six?"
Euron gives Karthas a knowing look.
"I don't think that name's exactly going to strike fear into the hearts of bandits o' this Stag-Man if they hear of our exploits."
Karthas laughs hearing Euron's reservations about the groups now former name. "We can certainly come up with something else if you would like. The name came from Berenkor, not me. Hell, we do not even have to have a name for our group if we do not want."
In a low voice Euron meets Karthas' eyes and nods towards the dwarf, "How about that dwarf there?"
The massive barbarian does his best to match Euron's hushed tones, "Could be a possibility. Let's watch him for a bit...see how he treats Oleg and Svetlana first. I would hate to invite him to join us and then have to pummel him to death for mistreating our hosts.
Karthas then turn his attention back to Berenkor for a moment, "You know anything about the dwarf over there? He been through here before?"
Euron nods to Karthas.
"Aye, I like the way ye're thinking, although I'm a bit surprised - figured ye'd be keener on how he swings an axe rather than his table manners!"
The druid gives Karthas another wide grin as he watches the growing traffic at Oleg's throughout the morning.
"I prefer to just let Niko figure out who to travel with. Gozreh's beard, he's the one who convinced me to approach y'all the first time!"
With that comment, the wolf looks up at his master and yawns before rolling on his side as the sun crests the outer wall of Oleg's, creating a warm band of light between the tables.
"With all this traffic, we might as well just put up a sign, maybe let the folks who are interested come to us?"
Euron seems to decide this course of action makes great sense, and sheepishly asks Svetlana if she has some paper and something with which to write and post up a bulletin.
As he sits down at the table again next to Karthas, he holds the inkpen awkwardly, unused to the "modern" implement.
After several frustrated attempts, Euron crumples up the third piece of paper and stares at the lone fourth sheet provided.
"How's your penmanship, Karthas? Perhaps you could write down what we'd want?"
At the other table sit two human men wearing the uniforms of Brevic soldiers. One of the men – evidently the senior officer – is busy writing on a piece of parchment while speaking to the other soldier who is listening attentively.
A fair-haired young human woman exits the main house carrying a large tray bearing food and tankards of drink. She places food and drink first at the soldiers’ table without disturbing their conversation, and delivers food and drink to the two humans and gnome at the other table. She gives the Kellid a warm smile and bends to pat the wolf’s head before returning into the main house.
Near the storehouse a large man with unkempt fiery red hair and huge muttonchops stands speaking with two other men next to a wagon loaded with trade goods. An older man tends to the horses hitched to the wagon while a younger man works at cleaning the stable.
The two outdoorsmen and gnome study you appraisingly as you approach the main house, then shift their attention toward the gate. At the same time, the door to the house opens and a second, slightly older human woman exits, carrying a tray bearing food and drink similar to the first. ”Oh! Hello!” she exclaims with a surprised smile. ”Welcome to Oleg’s Trading Post. I’m Svetlana, Oleg’s wife. Would you care for some lunch?”
At the other table sit two human men wearing the uniforms of Brevic soldiers. One of the men – evidently the senior officer – is busy writing on a piece of parchment while speaking to the other soldier who is listening attentively.
Near the storehouse a large man with unkempt fiery red hair and huge muttonchops stands speaking with two other men next to a wagon loaded with trade goods. An older man tends to the horses hitched to the wagon while a younger man works at cleaning the stable.
Near the doorway to the main house, a brown-haired human woman carrying a tray bearing food and drink stands talking to a dwarf dressed in the garb of an adventurer.
The two outdoorsmen and gnome notice your entrance immediately and study you appraisingly as you stand within the yard. The wolf lounging near the elder outdoorsman perks up and sniffs the air, eyeing your riding dogs with interest.
At the other table sit two human men wearing the uniforms of Brevic soldiers. One of the men – evidently the senior officer – is busy writing on a piece of parchment while speaking to the other soldier who is listening attentively.
Near the storehouse a large man with unkempt fiery red hair and huge muttonchops stands speaking with two other men next to a wagon loaded with trade goods. An older man tends to the horses hitched to the wagon while a younger man works at cleaning the stable.
Near the doorway to the main house, a brown-haired human woman carrying a tray bearing food and drink stands talking to a dwarf dressed in the garb of an adventurer.
Before you within the yard stands a tall figure wrapped in a shapeless overcoat, his (or her?) features completely obscured by a large, wide-brimmed hat, dusk-lensed goggles, and a scarf covering the lower half of his (or her) face. The tall figure is flanked by a pair of riding dogs, each bearing saddle packs, pouches, and satchels full of gear.
The people throughout the yard pause in their activities and turn to study you as you wave and offer your greeting. The wolf lounging near the elder outdoorsman appears to be studying the tall figure’s riding dogs with interest.
"I am always up for a good meal. Would you also have some place where I could stow my gear? The road is interesting enough, but the shoulder does weary at times."
"And since ye'd be the only one really 'chartered' left, how's about we come up with something better to call ourselves than this Chartered Six?" Euron gives Karthas a knowing look. "I don't think that name's exactly going to strike fear into the hearts of bandits o' this Stag-Man if they hear of our exploits."
Karthas laughs hearing Euron's reservations about the groups now former name. "We can certainly come up with something else if you would like. The name came from Berenkor, not me. Hell, we do not even have to have a name for our group if we do not want."
”Well, none of you were coming up with anything better at the time,” Berenkor responds in a huff. ”However, now that the original six have scattered to the winds, so to speak, you should come up with a different name. And your group must have a name, so that I may more easily extol your many great deeds as you battle against banditry and bring peace to the Greenbelt. Hmm...What do you think of ‘Guardians of the Greenbelt?’ That has a nice ring to it,” the gnome bard suggests.
As the three of you discuss names for your group, Vianne Hardesty emerges from the main house carrying a large tray bearing food and tankards of drink. She places food and drink on the table for Kesten and… the other soldier… and then delivers food and drink to the three of you. ”Here you go. Svetlana’s venison stew with moon radishes, and some of Oleg’s new amber ale. Enjoy your lunch!” She gives Karthas a warm smile and bends to pat Niko’s head before returning into the main house.
As you tuck into your meal, you spy a dwarf dressed in the garb of an adventurer enter through the gates and head toward the main house.
In a low voice Euron meets Karthas' eyes and nods towards the dwarf, "How about that dwarf there?"
The massive barbarian does his best to match Euron's hushed tones, "Could be a possibility. Let's watch him for a bit...see how he treats Oleg and Svetlana first. I would hate to invite him to join us and then have to pummel him to death for mistreating our hosts. Karthas then turn his attention back to Berenkor for a moment, "You know anything about the dwarf over there? He been through here before?"
”Never seen him before,” Berenkor responds, studying the dwarf as he is greeted at the door by Svetlana, who is carrying a tray of food and drink similar to Vianne’s. ”Carries himself like he’s seen some adventuring experience. Looks like he knows how to use that warhammer on his belt. And is that a pouch for spell components? Might be a wandering priest,” the gnome bard muses aloud.
As you study the dwarf appraisingly, the door to the house opens and Svetlana emerges, carrying a tray bearing food and drink similar to the Vianne’s. ”Oh! Hello!” she exclaims with a surprised smile for the dwarf. ”Welcome to Oleg’s Trading Post. I’m Svetlana, Oleg’s wife. Would you care for some lunch?”
"I am always up for a good meal. Would you also have some place where I could stow my gear? The road is interesting enough, but the shoulder does weary at times."
”Of course,” Svetlana responds to Edrukk’s question. ”We’ve had a few bunks become vacant in our guest house in the past couple of days. Here, have a seat,” she says directing Edrukk to the table where the two outdoorsmen and the gnome are sitting. ”These are Karthas, Euron, and Berenkor,” she introduces the Kellid, the scarred man, and the gnome in turn. ”They’re members of the Chartered Six, the explorers out of Restov who’ve been fighting against the bandits plaguing the area and making travel safer along the South Rostland Road.” She places a bowl of delicious smelling stew and a tankard of ale on the table before Edrukk and motions for one of the stablehands to come over. ”If it’s alright with you, I’ll have Mik take your pack into the guest house while you enjoy your lunch. It’s venison and moon radish stew with some of Oleg’s new amber ale. I hope you enjoy it!”
"That will do nicely." Edrukk slips his backpack and cloak off, handing them to the stablehand before sitting down. "A pleasure to meet you. I am Edrukk, of late a wanderer and drifter hoping to find a place to settle my backpack permanently. You must have some fascinating stories to tell if you have been fighting the bandits and whatever else around here decided you looked like a good lunch."
The younger stablehand sees the tall figure with the riding dogs standing in the center of the yard. The young man sets aside his shovel and approaches slowly, holding out his hands for the riding dogs to sniff. "Excuse me, sir... or ma'am? Can I help you?" he asks.
...she walks up to the two soldiers sitting at the table. She waves and smiles. "Hi! I'm Yelena! Are you in charge here?"
The two soldiers pause in their conversation and look up at Yelena. The younger soldier, mouth agape, stares at the young woman's unearthly beauty. The elder soldier clears his throat and rises to his feet before speaking. "Forgive our manners, Miss. My name his Kesten Garess. No, I'm not in charge. This is Master Oleg's trading post," he says, indicating the large red-haired man speaking to the two men near the wagon.
"Excuse me!" the gnome at the other table exclaims, jumping up to approach Yelena and Kesten and sketching a deep bow. "Berenkor Trandoran, at your service Miss... Yelena, did you say? A pleasure to meet you! What brings you to Oleg's Trading Post this find day, if I may ask?"
"That will do nicely." Edrukk slips his backpack and cloak off, handing them to the stablehand before sitting down. "A pleasure to meet you. I am Edrukk, of late a wanderer and drifter hoping to find a place to settle my backpack permanently. You must have some fascinating stories to tell if you have been fighting the bandits and whatever else around here decided you looked like a good lunch."
Karthas extends his hand to the dwarf, "Like Svetlana said, my name is Karthas. Well met, Edrukk."
"Not much of a storyteller myself. Typically I leave that sort of thing to Berenkor, but I can tell you we've seen our fair share of bandits, mites, werewolves, mud giants, worgs, and other assorted nasties out there."
The younger stablehand sees the tall figure with the riding dogs standing in the center of the yard. The young man sets aside his shovel and approaches slowly, holding out his hands for the riding dogs to sniff. "Excuse me, sir... or ma'am? Can I help you?" he asks.
The brim of the hat dips as the figure nods.
"Aye...some place t'be puttin' m'self an' th' hounds if'n ye please." Is the reply/question.
"Your friend seems to be having a bit of trouble writing. Trying to break bad news to family back home?"
"Your friend seems to be having a bit of trouble writing. Trying to break bad news to family back home?"
"No, not that. It seems that our band of explorers has by and large disbanded. Euron and I are the only ones left and we were thinking of recruiting others to join us. Unfortunately, neither one of us is very skilled in the arts of communication, and we having difficulty deciding how to word it."
"That does seem to present challenges on both counts. Perhaps if you explain further what precisely you are looking for, I can help you communicate it to others."
The brim of the hat turns as the person looks about the compound, maybe they are looking for the stables?
"That does seem to present challenges on both counts. Perhaps if you explain further what precisely you are looking for, I can help you communicate it to others."
"Where once we were six, and recently more than six, only two of us remain. Euron and I are both capable warriors, Euron has a great deal of skill for dealing with the natural world, and I am capable of being moving without being seen and can deal with the occasional lock. We lack expertise in the realms of the arcane. While I am not particulary fond of the arcane art, I do conceed that it has its uses. Beyond that we seek those who are willing to bring bandits to justice and provide useful skills in the wild."