It is Wealday, the 24th of Sarenith, in the year 4713. The call has went out to the heroes and their like in the kingdom of Brevony. The area known as the Stolen Lands is to be explored, mapped, and conquered for the throne. Outside the small hamlet of Brelton a traveler on his way south has stopped at a roadside shrine to Erastil to pay his respects.
Kneeling at the shrine is a large, muscular man, with a shield strapped across his back and a flail hanging ready at his belt. His clothing and armor show the obvious signs of dust and dirt from the road and his travels.
Down the road comes a small woman, with blond hair and shining blue eyes which hold a certain amount of innocence. As she approaches she seems to soak in everything her eyes land upon, as if she was seeing the world for the first time. She is garbed in fine clothing and jewelry and seems very out of place in this remote area.
The man at the shrine, finished with this prayers, stands to his full height, which is impressive.
"Excuse me," Winifred calls out to the rather large man as she approaches him, the difference in their heights quickly becoming obvious to the small woman. "Whom does this shrine honor?" She asks kindly and respectfully, not really aware of many religious symbols that do not involve the last Azlanti. Glancing upon the shrine and the man thoroughly as she tries to take in as much information as she can.
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"This is a shrine to Erastil, patron of the hunt." The man turns to face the newcomer and his orcish ancestry is immediately obvious. His features are a mixture of orc and human, leaning heavily to favor his bestial parentage. His face is craggy and pocked, with one canine protruding from his lower lip. And yet, his soft brown eyes show a compassion not typically found among the orcs. They stand as a sharp contrast to his swarthy black hair and ruddy appearance.
His armor, a chain shirt, shows signs of meticulous care, though it currently suffers an infestation of dust from the road. He wears a tabard with a royal crest upon it; the image of a sun rising over twin peaks.
"I bid you welcome, little one. I am Karse. Sir Karse, to be formal. And what might you be called?"
"My name is Winifred, Winifred Lebeda to be percise." She responds, taking note of the noble symbol on the orcish man's tabard as she takes a step backwards. "Forgive my rudeness, Sir Karse, but you don't look like any Orlovsky I've ever met, you didn't by chance steal that did you?" She asks pointing at man's chest, perhaps a little intimidated by the orchish man.
At the very least he seems friendly enough. "That is good to know." She pauses, and looks back at the man once again. She offers him her hand and does a slight curtsy. "It is nice to meet you, Sir Karse, as I said before I so rudely accused you of stealing, I am Winifred Lebeda."
After a brief pause, she then adds, "Where are you headed, Sir Karse, if I may be so bold as to ask."
He is no beast either, though his appearance may say otherwise. "Then we are on the same path, I too am bound for the Stolen Lands, they may have something of interest to me, but beyond that reason, I have also answered the call of the swordlords. Winifred now turns her attention to the road. "Since we are headed in the same direction, perhaps you would allow me to accompany you, Sir Karse, I could surely use the protection of a man of your strength."
As the two converse; a rather well-armored hound pops through the underbrush, a fat game bird hanging limply from his jaws.
A boisterous voice calls from down the road. Looking in the direction of the voice, a well-muscled near-giant of a man becomes apparent.
"Excellent, now which...Oh my what do we have here." Winifred asks noticing the dog, and then noticing the man yelling for the dog. "I'm guessing this is yours?" She says pointing to the dog.
As Sir Karse places his hand on his flail, she adds, "Surely that won't be necessary Sir Karse."
Lips twitching slightly at mention of ownership of the hound, though whether in amusement or annoyance is difficult to determine, the young man replies. "I'll answer to Rufus, an' I'm called such." He replies to Karse's query. "I'd ask the same of you, though you've already kindly given me your companion's name..." Rather pointedly & ostentatiously allowing his gaze to pass from Sir Karse to Winifred & back again at mention of companion.
At Winifred's placating gesture, Rufus nods. "...Aaand now she has done likewise, good sir Karse."
"Are you long in service to House Orlovsky, Sir Karse? Don't see many fellows of your...
Colour,
'round these parts."
He does not radiate an aura of evil.
"Greetings, Rufus, as you have heard my name is Winifred, Winifred Lebeda." She looks up at the tall man, Another giant it seems, or maybe I'm just small but was everyone this much taller? She offers Rufus her hand and gives a small curtsy as well. "It is a pleasure to meet you."
Hrm, as if I've never seen look before...
Give me the hairy eyeball all you want fellow, Lord Parsal may have bemoaned my lack of discipline but he found reason to doubt my morals...
Rufus' features tighten slightly when Winifred provides her full name, but quickly return to their previous easy good nature as he leans down to thump Boon on the side. "A pleasure to met." Glancing now between the two of them, Rufus queries. "We're a bit of a ways from either families' holdings...
"Questions I shouldn't ask?.." Rufus' eyebrow arches slightly though he obviously schools his expression to avoid any hint of salacious intent.
You hear some rustling in the nearby brush, only a few feet off from where the dog had emerged moments before. A young man with a slim, but athletic build steps out from the brush. He glares at the dog and then takes note of the others on the road. "Bloody dog... I'd been tracking that pheasant for some time now and the dog rushes in and snaps it up." He continues not talking to anyone specifically "You know it's going to be a long trip to Oleg's Trading post if I can't hunt any decent game. A man can only take hardtack and jerky for so long before he goes crazy!"
"About three months, if memory serves." Rufus replies absently, the blade longer than his arm suddenly drawn & between himself & this new individual, at the same time he was between this new individual & Winifred.
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"The lady and I are traveling companions," Karse says, breaking his gaze, "Nothing more. As for being far from home, I merely answered the call that was put forth for adventurers to explore and map the Stolen Lands."
As the newest stranger appears from the bush, Karse starts but quickly regains his composure.
Erastil's bow! They're coming out of the woodwork!
"Friend of yours?" Sir Karse looks questioningly at Rufus.
Theod throws his arms up in a sign of peace "Woh, woh, woh! Sorry..." he backs up a bit "No disrespect meant, just venting is all." He slowly puts his hands back down at his side "I'm Theod Garess... and yes of that family, but don't let the name fool you. I'm a distant relative and in all honesty I've not even really been around the noble Garess'"
"Garess huh? Guess that means if we wait long enough that Lodovka, Medvyed, and Surtova will show up, who knows maybe we'll even happen upon an heir to Rogarvia." Winifred says only seemingly half joking. "It's nice to meet you Theod Garess, I am Winifred Lebeda." She doesn't curtsy this time, but smiles politely. Just how many strange men am I going to meet today, Aroden help me.
Coughing explosively at Winifred's mention of a Rogarvia heir, Rufus sheathes his sword while also calming Boon. "Shush boy, down." At Rufus' words, the hound drops to the ground, simultaneously releasing the pheasant.
"Well, if you were tracking the bird, you must know how to dress & cook it..." he trails off invitingly as he leans down to pick the carcass up & toss it to Theod.
"You said something about Oleg & a trading post?"
Theod eases up as the woman addresses him and nods at the introduction, flashing a sheepish smile at Winifred before looking at the others.
Theod reaches for the bird as Rufus tosses it to him.
Missing it in mid air it drops to the ground slightly behind him. He walks over trying to hid his embarrassment while picking up the pheseant. "Yeah I can cook it up when we have the chance." he dusts it off "As for Oleg's, that's where I'm headed. Trying to get our from under this name of mine and make one for myself. It's a bit of a trip to the south west but that's where I'm headed."
Hidden tensions ease from Rufus' features at Theod's mention of making his own name for himself. "South...
That seems to be a popular direction." Smirking slightly at some thought, he continues. "Of course, as cold as it gets here, I'm not surprised."
"As I've recently returned from some time spent South of here & I've little to keep me this far North, perhaps I might be of aid on your collective journey?"
"Sounds like we're all headed in the same direction, this doesn't seem like a coincidence to me." Winifred claps her hands together, as if something suddenly occurred to her. "Aroden must have arranged for this, after all, you are all human." She pauses for a moment to look over at Sir Karse, "Well, mostly human."
Theod does a little skip as he moves in closer to the others, now that he thinks everyone is friends. "Ah wonderful! It would most definitely make the road a bit more safe to travel, that's for sure. You know too, we are shaping up to be quite the little band as well." He flexes a muscle for effect and grins at Winifred "You won't have to worry with the likes of us around miss. Though I imagine if you've made it this far alone you must have some skill or are just really, really lucky."
Boy... hope I'm not talking too much. This lot seems like they could be some good friends. He pauses looking down at the ground for a moment, shuffling his foot as if trying to hold back further conversation from spilling out of his mouth.
Theod nods, tossing the pheasant over his shoulder smiling a big goofy grin as he begins to walk toward the road, looking back to make sure the others are following. He begins speculating on Oleg's Trading Post imaging and describing some grand castle with bunches of Knights and a booming market full of all sorts of goodies, he'll continue on for some time unless someone actually familiar with the location corrects him.
"I guess we're off to Oleg's then." Winifred agrees, following the rest of the group, as she really isn't even sure which way is south, let alone which way they are supposed to be headed.
Signalling to Boon to up & follow, Rufus bows the others on as he takes up the rear.
I haven't the heart to tell the poor fellow...
If this place was half as grand as he's making it out to be, they'd no need of now would they?..
The newly formed band consisting of the three large men and the tiny woman hit the road, heading south through Rostland towards the Stolen Lands and their destination of the trading post. The days pass without event, other than a high pillar of smoke seen off to the northwest, many leagues away. Rufus and Brom hunt for food throughout the days to keep the party fed, and the three men taking watch at night.
Early morning, Starday, the 29th of Sarenith, 4713 AR.
Oleg’s trading post is surrounded by a wooden palisade that stands 10 feet high. At each corner of the palisade are 20-footsquare watchtowers, each armed with a run-down catapult left over from the site’s original use as a border fort. There’s one entrance through the palisade—a 30-foot-wide wooden gate.
Oleg’s Trading Post is located at the southern edge of Rostland (and thus Brevoy). To the south, the green line of the Narlmarches looms only a few miles away. Owned and operated by a stern and somewhat unimaginative man named Oleg Leveton and his wife Svetlana, the trading post’s remote location and inconvenient distance from a major river has prevented it from realizing significant financial success.
Accepting a charter from Restov to rebuild an abandoned border fort into a trading post seemed like the perfect solution. Oleg and Svetlana have spent the past few months rebuilding the old fort. Their customers are few and far between, consisting mostly of trappers and hunters but the trade in furs, jerky, and the occasional rare herb are enough to keep them in business.
As the party enters the post a woman appears from a building to the north and greets them warmly, "Welcome travelers, please, come have a seat, rest yourselves. You have made quite the journey, and we are in your debt. Please, let me get you some cool water and something to eat." She rushes around, fussing over each of you in an attempt to make you feel welcome. At the same time, a one of the two men who were on the roof of the same building she exited from yells out, "You are early! I hadn't expected the message to be delivered to Restov so quickly! Hrmph! Well all the same, we'll be glad to be rid of those bastards. We are but three days away from their visit." He climbs down the ladder and approaches the party. The second man descends the ladder and follows the speaker. The first man introduces himself, "The name's Oleg, Oleg Leveton. And this is my wife Svetlana," motioning to the woman who has rushed off to the well to fetch some water for the party, "And my nephew, Hadin." he adds, throwing a thumb over his back to indicate the man following him from the roof.
"Early? I'm afraid you are mistaken, for a Lady is never early, nor is she late, she arrives exactly when she intends to." Winifred starts, likely looking better for the days of travel then the men around her. They hadn't told young Winnie, but they likely could have been at Oleg's a day earlier if the tiny sorceress had gotten a little dirty, or had she not stopped to make sure that she had a bath when they had crossed the river.
"I am Winifred, Winifred Lebeda." Winifred begins introducing herself to the Svetlanas, doing a slight curtsy as she does. "It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance."
"Early? I'm afraid you are mistaken, for a Lady is never early, nor is she late, she arrives exactly when she intends to."
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"Well met, all of you." the half-orc replies. "Thank you for your hospitality. I could use some water to wash the dust from my throat."
I'm just glad that the Lady Winifred insisted on stopping for a bath while crossing that river. I was beginning to smell like three-day old fish in the Arodus sun.
"I am Sir Karse, of House Orlovsky. It is indeed a pleasure to make your acquaintance." The massive knight makes a deep bow. "Might I inquire exactly whom is expected in three days?"
At Oleg's mention of all too familiar words...
Bastard...
rid of...
Rufus eyes began to narrow.
Until he heard the equally familiar, (for the River Kingdoms), .
"You commissioned to address a problem, were you not, Sir Karse, Lady Winifred, Theod?"
"Rufus, Rufus...
Fitzroi,
master Leveton."
"I served under Lord Achille Parsal, of Liberthane, some ways South of here."
"We know something of...
Bandits,
in Liberthane."
The young man who was following Oleg notices Svetlana going to the well and rushes to her help
Please auntie, let me do that. I'll bring some fresh water, I'm sure you must be tired. I'm here to help, remember?
A warm smile appears on his sun burned face, and he swiftly brings up a full bucket of water from the well, carries it to the kitchen, comes back with a trail with enough goblets for everyone- his uncle and aunt included- and a jar of water.
He serves the drinks to everyone, ladies first, with his calloused hands, giving Oleg the last goblet
You should be drinking too, Oleg, you have been working for some time fixing the roof and must be thirsty.
On his muscular chest, a wooden symbol of a bow ending in antlers shows his devotion to Old Deadeye. He then steps back, letting his uncle doing the talking.
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Sir Karse notes with interest the man's holy symbol.
Could it be? Another worshiper of Erastil?
"Hadin," the half-orc begins, after he has drunk his fill, "I could not help but notice that you are a follower of Erastil. I, too, follow the teachings of Old Deadeye. It is good to meet with another of my brethren."
The young man answers simply and with humility
I follow the path of the god of my ancestors, it's true. Trying to be the best i can be, not out of pride but for the greater good of the community, big or small. I am glad to meet you too.
He extends his hand, notice the dust from the tiles he has been working on, brushes his hand clean on his pants and gives it again
I'm sorry, it has been a busy day. There's always work to do here, and I like to be of any help. There is only one place I don't dare to go, and it's in the kitchen: here the kingdom of my aunt Svetlana begins, and I'm too clumsly to be of any real assistance, according to her.
He smiles again, not the smile of someone happy to make a joke, but the simple honest smile of someone who isn't afraid to show kind love.
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Greater good of the community? A clergyman, certainly, but is he something more? I wonder...
"Please, do not trouble yourself to apologize. No apology is necessary for honest work." Sir Karse turns to his companions.
"Well then, a fine place for a respite from our travels, if these kind folk have no objection, though it is a slight bit less... active... than promised." He smiles at Theod, a toothy grin that reveals the fangs that were a gift from his father.
Upon arrival at the fort Theod slumps over, obviously from disappointment, but moments later after taking in the whole scene and noting the 2 watchtowers "Well not quite what I was expecting but this is still a little bit of a fort at least!" He grins as they walk in.
Upon the introductions Theod adds "I didn't realize we were expected at all, in the first place. I thought we were just coming to carve out the frontier!" He shrugs and continues "Well in either case, I'm Theod Garess and I'm glad we can be of assistance... to whatever we are assisting..."
Oleg scoffs, noticeably perturbed, "Carve out the bloody frontier?? Now why would I need that? I like the frontier just the way it is! Aren't you here to do something about these damned bandits?" He seems to grow more agitated by the moment, "I sent a message to Restov along with the last trader to pass through here that was headed that way that we have been been visited by the local group of hooligans for the past three months! Bah!" Oleg throws his arms up in disgust and stalks away, fussing over some unseen issue with the door leading to the house.
Svetlana approaches and says, "Please forgive him, he's at his wits end. I think if I had not strictly forbade it he would have tried to fight them off himself last time." She glances over at her husband and continues, "Each month they come, on the same day, and they demand the best of our goods so we can be safe from the outlaws of these lands. Furs, potions, food, they take it all. We have struggled to trade and hide away enough to keep us going, but I fear we are to the point of giving up." She sighs and continues, "I'd love nothing more to be back in the city, but Oleg, he wants nothing to do with it. The reason we came here is so he could be as far away from lords and ladies as possible."
"Is there nothing we can do to convince you to help us?"