Karozekas stands at the gate looking out of the city, he takes a deep inhalation of air and smiles. "Ahh, I can smell that fresh country air already. I must say, I haven't feel this kind of thrill sense that time I was chased by that troll in Nirmanthas." He glances at the other party members. "Story for another time." He reaches up and strokes his raven's feathered head. "What about you Corvus? You up for this?"
Of course, Cah..ro
Morin looks about from his unaccustomed perch, sitting in front of Chloe on the back of their horse,"Nice work at the helm there, Chloe. We got across town and through the gates with nary a hitch. You've got a good touch with the horse, I think she likes you. When I was leading her, I'd swear she was wonderin' whether to me, but up here on her back the view's nearly as fine as from the top of the mainmast. I'll keep an eye out for trouble coming our way, you keep the gentle beast pointed towards Sandpoint, and we'll be just fine."
A sudden breeze blows up, tossing the the horse's mane and bringing in a whiff of sea air. Morin smiles and gazes down the road, a happy glint in his eye, "Ah, come what may, 'tis a grand thing to weigh anchor and be travellin' again."
Unable to truly take in the horizon, the oracle busies herself with the other wonders of the beginning of the journey."She's lovely." Chloe practically coos in reference to the horse, humming contentedly. "What color fur...does she have? Oh, let me guess..."
Chloe pauses for a moment.
"Is she chestnut brown? Or... milky gray? Oh, while she'd no boat, Morin... she has her attributes... she's a scar, just here. Probably from... a tick-bite of some sort. No anchor attachments, though. Probably for the best... sweet girl. Here's hoping you don't have to run from... any Nirmathi...Nirmathisian...Nirmathian trolls."
Smoked goggles only adding to the eccentricity of the young woman's appearance, Chloe loses herself in trying to come up with the proper term for something of an origin in Nirmathis, almost obsessively.
"Well, we can always talk our enemies to death or confusion," says Sarusa with a grin. She extends one hand to feel the breeze.
Gellig dispassionately plucks a buzzing insect from the air with an incredibly long tongue.
"-Nirmathasani, Nirmasathian, Nermathasic...Nirmathas...matic?"
The woman shook her head, still dreadfully confused and determined to figure out the correct term.
"Karozekas, surely you... you know the word...? Or maybe you, Sarusa...?"
"Ah, Chloe, dear, you too know the word, you've just got yourself wound too tight around the capstan to remind yerself of it. The Nirmathan navy - and Nirmathan is indeed the word you're reachin' for - the navy isn't much to boast about, but I've known a few folk from that land, and they call themselves Nirmathan, no doubt. Haven't heard much about trolls there, but that Fangwood's an awful big place, 'tis certainly possible. Now, with that puzzle sorted out, why don't you get to thinking about a sweet name for our lovely mount, and perhaps Tekkis could sing us a nice travellin' song?"
Morin turns to the towering half-orc with a mischievous grin and a wink, wondering what will come of his request.
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As you make your way south and east, you spy a sign along the side of the road that reads "Sandpoint, 50 miles." You'd wager that you have about four hours of daylight remaining before night shrouds the land.
Corbyn, riding with his hood up for most of the journey is quite content with just being on the open road again.
"I propose we think about setting up camp in the near future. We could press on throughout the evening if you all wish for better time, but I myself would rather sleep in the comfort of the wilderness than inside another City, Town or Village. In fact, I'd be ok with skipping Sandpoint all together..."
Gellig dispassionately plucks a buzzing insect from the air with an incredibly long tongue.
Plod licks his lips and shakes his head causing his mane to fly about down the back of his neck.
"Stupid frog doesn't have to pull the cart... I'm thirsty."
"We'll want to stop somewhere for horses, or supplies," says Sarusa, her eyes scanning the horizon. "I can forage with Corbyn, but I'll need a steed to do it and not fall behind. And--a horse and freshly gathered things from the wild is far more pleasant than purchasing a bunch of hard tack and old bacon--no offense meant, Morin, about the hard tack."
”Not to worry, Sarusa – there’s no offense in the notion that I’d rather eat fresh food than saltbeef that’s been sitting in a cask since the Starstone fell. Now, my idea of freshly-gathered food is more like to be a nicely roasted lingfish than a handful of mushrooms and clover, but I’ll gladly eat what ye’re able to find for us. Though we’ll travel quicker if we eat the rations we’re carrying.”
Tekk nods, and after a moment, loudly begins:
WELLLLLLL!
"The prettiest girl,
I ever saw,
Sipped Dwarven Ale,
Through a straw,
I picked her up,
I layed her down,
Her long black hair,
Lay all around,
And now I have,
A mother-in-law,
And fourteen kids,
Who call me pa,
The moral of,
The story is clear,
No Dwarven Ale,
STICK TO BEER.
Tekk continues singing for about 30 minutes, replacing "dwarven ale" with a variety of differently alcoholic beverages as the song continues.
When Tekkis finally winds down from his singing, Morin offers up a song, ”This one’s usually about a boat, being a chanty and all, but let’s see if I can’t make it fit our current situation a bit.’
Morin sings, out in a much less roaring voice than Tekkis:
”Corbyn’s cart is painted green,
Ha, me boys!
Corbyn’s cart is painted green, the prettiest cart that you've ever seen.
Aha, me boys, a riddle i day!
Aha, me boys, a riddle i day!
Corbyn’s cart got a fine strong mule…
Corbyn’s cart got a fine strong mule, say otherwise and yer a fool…
I says “Corbyn, the blinds are down, my wife is dead and she’s underground”
I says “Corbyn, I don’t care, I'll get me another in the spring of the year”
Corbyn’s rolling out his grub, one split pea in a ten pound tub
Corbyn’s cart got strong high sides, near as as long as she is wide
Corbyn’s cart is painted green, it's the prettiest boat, er, cart! that you've ever seen.”
Plod bobs his head back and forth, keeping rhythm with the tune of the singer.
"I like these people"
Chloe smiles wistfully as her companions start offering songs to the road.
"...the food idea is good... I have enough for twelve days, but... If we can save our food, we can have some for emergencies... However... perhaps we should stay together... during foraging...?"
The healer waits for the end of Morin's ditty to add her own melody to the fray, keeping the same key.
"I wonder where this road will lead...,
as we scanter on with a nameless steed,
To mountains high... or rivers low?
To success looming nigh or a telling blow?
There's no way I will ever know which way this trail does go...,
I wonder where this road will reel...,
As we tap to the rhythm of Plod's wagon wheel,
To a viceroy's palace... in a hidden cove,
Or a charming nymph inside a magic grove?
There's no way I will ever the way that we will rove...
I wonder where our feet will tread...,
when we're in this together and over our head,
Will we fall in... a pit laid before our toes?
Would we escape from the frigid peaks before we froze?
There's no way I could ever know from what I do suppose..."
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Plod
Plod
PlodPlodPlod
PlodPlodPlodPlodPlodPlodPlod
PlodPlodPlod
"Is... is someone else singing..?" Chloe asks hesitantly after finishing.
The songs raise your spirits as your party makes its way along the packed earth of the Sandpoint Road. Farms stretch out to the south like a patchwork quilt, their bounty feeding the city you have just left. The waters of the bay to your north are by turns grey and blue, with tiny whitecaps on their tips. As you make your way, you pass the occasional yeoman, most with a lone ox to pull their own carts. Most smile cheerfully at your singing band, but there are sour grapes in the bunch from time to time. Most exit the Road into tiny lanes between the hedgerows, that you would guess lead off to small plots of land.
As the giant orb of the Sun sinks into the west, painting the clouds and waters alike in gold, then orange, then purple before the gloaming sets in, the untilled strips of land between the fields grow wider, and the small crofts and barns become harder to see in the distance. Between Sarusa and Corbyn, your party is able to find a decent place to.camp that should not prove to be too muddy or damp.
Jeminda had placed the following supplies on the mule she lent to you:
A 2 person tent, a 4 person tent, 5 days worth of fodder for the mule, 6 blankets, a pack saddle, and 5 lbs of firewood (hopefully enough to get you through the night.)
100 xp to everyone for some fine rp. You are 8 miles away from Magnimar. Actions, watch order, etc.?
Chloe hums as the horse stops, unaware of night's approach further than the changes in the air and the amount of time she'd spent awake. She dismounts and raises her arms to lift her companion down if he so chooses before doting on the horse that had carried the two so dutifully throughout the day.
"Dodi...," she announces suddenly, feeling her way around to the front of the animal to nuzzle her snout.
"Seems a right and proper name... Do you like that, sweet girl?"
The oracle pulls off her smoked goggles and turns to her side to listen to surrounding goings-on.
"If anyone needs water, I can oblige.... as is, do we have anything like a trough for the animals...?"
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Corbyn feeds Plod and his Mule companion (Reducing the fodder to 3 days worth) and then lights a fire (using the 5 lbs of Firewood).
"Unfortunately I do not have anything the animals can drink from. I really should invest in a bucket or something. This is not the first time this has happened to me..."
Sarusa plucks grubs from the underside of broad tallgrass and tosses them idly to Gellig, who catches them out of the air, while humming, then singing a bit of a low, haunting tune that sounds Elven in origin.
O the stars lead their track to where we were born
As the trees bend their backs to the storm
And when the breeze of eveningtime begins to blow
Lean your head, shoulder onward you must go.
She keeps humming for a few more lines, and then looks up. "And here's that evening breeze. Corbyn, let me look around for something to wet these good horses' muzzles."
Sarusa searches around for some nearby water for the animals.
Karozekas looks up from organizing his gear. Hey Corbyn, I have sixteen days worth of trail rations, I'll trade ya a day of ration for a mug of ale. Also I have three waterskins and an empty waterproof sack that we could probably rig up for the mule and Plod to drink out of.
"Since we're going through our rations, I have enough dried fruit and jerked beef to last ten days, as well as two waterskins."
The half-orc looks around the campsite, and begins stepping off certain marks and locations. Finally satisfied, he looks up, "If it's okay with everyone, I'll take third watch. I'm an early riser anyway."
Tekk returns to the cart and pulls out the tents. After several minutes, and several harsh words in orcish, the tents are set up and ready to use. Tekk looks them over, then glances around the group, then looks over the tents again.
"Right. Ladies, your tent is over here. Gentlemen, you're over there. I hope nobody minds if I sleep under the cart? I need to spread out when I sleep, and me in that tent with the three men just won't be good for any of us. I don't think they had half-orcs in mind when they designed it."
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Karozekas looks up from organizing his gear. Hey Corbyn, I have sixteen days worth of trail rations, I'll trade ya a day of ration for a mug of ale. Also I have three waterskins and an empty waterproof sack that we could probably rig up for the mule and Plod to drink out of.
Corbyn tips the small keg and pours Ale into his Tankard. He drinks!
"Everybody may help themselves, I brought it to share. We can sort out food later."
I hope nobody minds if I sleep under the cart? I need to spread out when I sleep, and me in that tent with the three men just won't be good for any of us. I don't think they had half-orcs in mind when they designed it."
"I have no problems with you sleeping under the cart. I like to sleep under the stars myself. Try to keep an ear out for intruders and thieves while you're under there."
Corvus and I will be happy to take any of the watches. I'll let you folks decide.
Also, while I was taking inventory of my gear, it has come to my attention that weight that slows me down is more my armor and weapons than anything else. I'm not sure what to make of it, never seemed to bother me before, must be this new chain shirt I acquired.
While the only sources of fresh water nearby are a few small sips worth collected on shaded leaves in the scrub brush around you, between Chloe's spell casting and the generous hearts of the others, no man, woman or beast goes hungry or thirsty during the evening. As the moon rises as a thin sickle in the sky, mists obscure the fields around you in the cool of the evening. The merry fire crackling at the center of your camp serves to keep the chill at bay, as the rustling grass and night bird calls punctuate the silence of the open world.
"Thank you for setting up the.. the tents, Tekkis!"
Chloe finishes patting down the horse with a small brush from her kit and then moves to where the group had congregated slowly and carefully.
"I-I would offer to take a watch, but... I don't think I'd be much use aside from a boon I can offer when our guardians are decided... However, Tekkis... do you sleep in your armor...?"
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Karozekas spends his watch keeping a wary eye out for trouble, sharpening his blades with a whetstone and making notes in his journal.
Morin hops down from the saddle and lands gracefully enough, bending his knees so far he forms a small ball not much larger than Tekkis' armored head, before standing up and looking about. Noticing Chloe standing by the horse with her arms raised, he reaches up, gently touches her elbow, and quietly says "I'm down, thank ya, lass."
More loudly to the group he says,"Well, a true horseman I am not. My joints feel as if I've spent the day bouncing along on a sack of hammers, and I didn't think ta buy any food for dear Dodi - it's a perfect name for her, by the by. Perhaps one of you folks could spare her a nibble? Or I imagine they can just eat grass, no?"
Morin looks around and says "Looks a fine spot to camp, far as I can tell. Glad you’re already thinkin’ about who'll take watch and when – and pouring out some ale as well. Chloe, you've got many fine points, but I agree that takin' the night watch doesn’t really play to your strengths. That leaves Corbyn, Karo, Sarusa, Tekk an' myself. Sounds like a couple of you have spoken up, so I’ll take whatever watch is left.”
With the exception of a lone rider cantering eastward on the road during Corbyn's watch, his way lit by a sorcerous flame, the night passes without incident. While your campfire must surely be visible for miles in the flatlands, especially with the short grasses of early spring not doing much to block visibility, nothing untoward approaches you, no doubt due to the regular patrols from the city.
The cool morning air is not helped by the thickening clouds, or the light rain that begins to fall as you break camp. While you are sure it will be good for the local crops, it will not do much for your ride.
Tekk does not seem to enjoy the rain. Muttering to himself in orcish, he remains surly for much of the day.
Gellig is frisky and goes hunting for worms uncovered by the rain.
Karo walks along with the others, seemingly not bothered very much by the rain. He amuses himself watching Gellig and trying to think up a travel song, quietly humming to himself.
"Lovely weather," says Sarusa paradoxically. "You can feel the powers in the air traveling all the way to deep underground. Everything is refreshed. Fill your 'skins, my friends. ...and Tekk, take a night off from the watch. I didn't get a chance to sit up in the night."
She scans the skies and squints at the drops of rain for a moment.
"Bah, now that I'm good and annoyed by this blasted weather, I'm thinking of taking two watches! I don't have a problem with the rain, Sarusa. My problem is the time I'm going to spend oiling my armor after this mess!"
He slams down the face guard of his helmet and continues to grumble.
After a fairly restful night, Morin wakes the other sleepers as his watch comes to an end with the sun's appearance on the horizon. He joins the others for a quick breakfast, and moves to saddle Dodi. Looking up at the horse's great height, and down at the saddle in his arms, he ponders the situation a moment.
Morin then pulls a length of rope from the saddlebag, ties it around the pommel of the saddle, and grabs hold of the other end of the rope. He piles up the saddle and saddle bags, clambers on top of the pile, and manages to reach his arms around the horse's neck and scramble up onto her back. He takes a seat, then pulls on the rope and lifts the saddle up to where he can wrestle it into place. Finally, Morin unties the rope and drops down to the ground, putting a reassuring hand on Dodi's flank as he reaches under her belly to fasten and tighten the girth strap.
He wipes his hands together and looks at the results of his handiwork, "Looks pretty shipshape, but tomorrow morning, I may ask one of you tall folk to take care of that. Nice weather we're havin' at least. I do like a little spray in the breeze."