Beyond Fort Horizon (Inactive)

Game Master Terquem

Look, I think there is a door there,” she points to the north west “and behind it there should be another shaft. Should we check it out or leave?”

As curious as I may be, I say we should go back. We didn't know that these beasts were here and they almost ended us. I do not want to risk our lives right now, especially since we don't know what is back there.

Alright then, let's gather everyone together and get back to the top.

Valind puts a hand on Jeannine's shoulder
"We'll be back. This is too valuable a site to abandon. But what use is knowledge if we are not able to pass it on to others."

Day 3 | Turn 1 (time of day – 10:00am) | Chamber of Shafts. Tunnels of the Gorge

When everyone is ready, the group slowly makes their way back to the entrance to these strange caves. Bill is excited to hear what you have found, and Karl sits down and begins filling out a thick journal with notes.

The party checks their equipment, and then with a careful plan they make the ascent of the wall back to the canyon rim above. Using what equipment and tools you have you fashion a liter for Bill and following Portia’s guidance, you set out for Fort Horizon. Portia gives several loud whistles and after only a few moments Isabelle comes into view gliding on the thermal currents above.

You make good time, but carrying Bill is slow and careful. You pas the camp site you established the day before, and press on. When night falls you are sure you are still a few miles from Fort Horizon, so you make camp.

The night is clear and cold. But being on the way back to Fort Horizon lifts everyone’s spirits.

On Day 4, you break camp and start the journey toward Fort Horizon. When it comes into view all of you begin to feel that strange feeling that you have been through something significant, while here it looks as if nothing has changed.

It is Day 4, turn 79 (turn of the clock) and it just about an hour past noon. The gates of Fort Horizon open for you, and your party has returned.
Each Character receives 600 experience points

to check. that's 75 dollasrs (3 days work), minus the cost of the cabins on day 1 (well night 1; 10 dollars divided by occupants?), minus three days food each (or possibly the cost thereof?) each?

Yes, and Karl will pay everyone.

Day 4, turn 79, it is just after noon at Fort Horizon

A rag tag team of individuals approach the gates of Fort Horizon. They bare one of their members on a stretcher, another walks with the aid of a make shift crutch under his arm. Except for a few of them they walk with their heads down, their feet shuffling in the dirt. They are tired, hungry, and drained.

The guards at the gate take pity on these folk and do not trouble them with unnecessary questions.

The group passes through the gate house and enters the settlement silently. They make for the cabins next to the Shady Dragon Inn. Here they pause, A dwarf, the only one in the party, goes into a cabin and comes out quickly carrying a small sack. He reaches into the sack and takes out a stack of coins and then gives the coins to a halfling.
As the coins are counted out, and distributed among the members of the party, a crowd begins to form.

The crowd stays back a ways, curious, but not invasive they watch the scene unfold. One of the young women of the settlement recognizes the group and she runs off toward the Keep.

When the adventurers show no sign of addressing the crowd, and quietly return to their cabins, the crowd dissolves as people go back to their daily hum drum lives.

Only moments later, a soldier from the Keep knocks on your door. When you answer the soldier snaps to attention, salutes you and says,
Major Finchly request that you meet him promptly in the Shady Dragon Inn. He has instructed me to tell you that your return to Fort Horizon is a welcome sight and that as a representative of the WAEC he is required to ask you certain questions regarding your expedition. The Soldier relaxes a bit here and seems uncomfortable. He goes on, less formally now, Look, folks, I don’t want any trouble, but Finchly’s in a foul mood and he ordered me to tell you that he intends to have you arrested if you don’t come right away, so, please, just to keep me and the rest us on duty today out of trouble, do us a favor and get there as soon as you can.

Portia, head down, face dirt covered solemnly walks through the front gates and towards the Shady Dragon Inn. She humbly accepts the payment for her services rendered. She walks into the cabin, plops herself on the bed out of sheer exhaustion. She closes here eyes for mere moments when the knock on the door ruins her first moment of a break.

She listens to the guard, and when she hears if the Caltain having his panties in a was, she can't help but sigh.

Look, whoever you are. To be brutally honest, I have a had a very rough past couple days, seen thing that very well might stay with me for some time. My patience is thin, I would love nothing more than a hit soak, warm food and a warm bed right now. If the captain wants my audience, than he should be careful what he wants for I can AND am a handful when I am in a mood like I am now. So tell your boss, I will come and answer whatever questions he has, ONLY after a wash my face and take a few moments to compose myself.

Nobody has ever seen Portia in such a mood, perhaps it was the recent events, or just her not having some time to unwind.

Derrick is one of the few of the party who manages to hold his head somewhat high on the trip back. Despite the hardships and the obvious strain, he appears the model of discipline during the entire journey, still rising early to practice his movements and drill with his weapons.

In town, Derrick accepts his payment with a nod and heads inside, where he begins removing and oiling his weapons and armor. He removes his sweat-stained shirt and puts on another when the soldier appears.

"Portia, there's no need to be so hasty. I'm sure the Major will allow you to wash." Still, arresting us? That's concerning. The young samurai turns to the soldier. "Give me a moment." He ties his long cloth belt around his waist and slides the katana through its folds, then nods. "Let's go."

Valind wearily picks up his enormous bag again, then drops it at Portia's words.
While his ability to fight may be limited, there was an area where Valind was well trained to fight for his companions.
"We'll be along presently. If the captain wants to arrest us he'll need to arrest me as well, I gather. As a cleric of the god of Lawyers, I am covered by certain contractual and legal obligations with the rest of the church of Valindor. While I don't doubt the captain's authority, I will be requesting as my legal representative my superior within the church, and while he can answer promptly he also tends to be in a foul temper at being called out for something like this. Needless to say I and my clients will be unable to answer questions until our advocate arrives. The captain would be well within his rights to demand the local representative of Valindor step in to act as advocate in the interests of expediency, but of course he will have deprived himself of the possibility of doing so via my arrest. An area without such a representative can see an officer appointed as advocate, but this area does have a representative, so I believe that option is not available to him. It's a fascinating legal question; one whose ramifications could take weeks to untangle in the capital."
Valind beams
"OR he could just wait a little while and we'll be along presently."

Despite his words as soon as the soldier is gone Valind doffs his coat and runs around like mad ensuring the entire expedition is going to see the captain together.

Day 4, turn 79, it is just after noon at Fort Horizon

The soldier is chagrinned, and the intensity of Portia’s verbal assault backs him up one step.

Look lady, he shakes his open hands in front of his chest, I’m just the messenger he tries to say.

Then Derricks words seem to be a calming influence, but it is only just then that Valind steps up and speaks.

The soldier stares at Valind as the young cleric of the law explains, in excruciating detail, exactly how this is going to work.

It is clear the young soldier is overwhelmed and intimidated.

He apologizes profusely and then finishes by saying,

Look, look, I’m sorry for disturbing you folks. I let the major know you are on your way.

Derrick sighs at the treatment the soldier is receiving from his new allies. "You know, Major Finchly is our benefactor and commanding officer, here." With that he grips his katana's scabbard and follows the soldier out.

Valind bolts, eerily fast, as he rushes to pull the expedition members together.

Portia raises an eyebrow at Derrick's words.

Derrick, while I do appreciate your somewhat eerie faithfulness to a man in power. Please don't lecture me about who is or isn't in command of me. All I said was I wanted a few minutes to myself, given everything that happened was not unreasonable. And the captain to threaten arrest, to me is a bunch of crap, especially since we just got back into town. I have every intention to see the man, but not when he or anyone else DEMANDS me to is all

Men, always trying to jockey for position. Hmph, now, what was I going to do? Ah, yes, wash up

Portia will turn and leave to go wash up. The feel of cold water on her face is refreshing to say the least. Mage didn't mind the caves, but the excitement was definitely enough for her for the shirt term. After washing up, cleaning herself off/up, she heads over to the captains area and awaits her companions if she is the first to arrive.

I'm okay to skip to the actual meeting

Day 4, turn 79, it is just after noon at Fort Horizon

Derrick and Edren are the first to arrive, followed by Valind and Portia.

The inn is empty. Only the Halfling, Barcromb Finchly, is here and he sits at a table with both hands on the sides of his lowered head. His elbows are heavy on the table, and he looks exhausted.

When Edren and Derrick enter, he lifts his head, and manages a troubling smile.

Good, he says quietly, [/b] “you’re here. We’ll just wait a little longer for the others.”[/b]

When Portia and Valind arrive, Finchley asks all of you to sit down and then he personally fetches a platter of mugs and a large pitcher of water. “I can offer you something stronger, if you prefer, but I hope that to begin we can keep our heads. He sits among you and pours a glass of water for himself.

First I want to thank you, all of you, for making sure the people from the university came back all in one piece, if a little bruised. I tried to tell them that they shouldn’t go, but I don’t really have the authority to stop them. You did well, but, and I hope you’ll forgive me, there are many things I can’t tell you about the place you were lead to, many things. I’m not trying to keep secrets, contrary to what you may have heard, to make money, for anyone, but because there is a danger there that goes beyond fighting off monsters or he pauses and lowers his voice machines

I don’t know how soon the dwarf and his party will want to try again, but I really don’t want them going back there. Hell, I don’t want anyone going there. I’ve sent letters, evidence, to the company, and only gotten empty promises that someone is “looking into” the problem. And it is a problem, and that’s why I asked you to come, and also why I told the guard that I’d have you arrested if you didn’t. I wasn’t trying to impress, frighten, or intimidate you. That display was for the benefit of anyone else poking their nose where it doesn’t belong, and believe me, there are people here that are listening to everything, watching everything, and some of them are not the kind of people anyone should trust. I want to ask you if you would consider doing me a favor. There is a small homestead to the northwest. It’s less than a day’s walk, but it is through some tricky territory, and I haven’t heard from the families out there for weeks. I sent a squad of solders, but they haven’t returned. I’m worried. I’ve put up a request for volunteers to take a wagon of supplies out to the homestead, and I was hoping I could hire you folk to act as their protection. I don’t know who will volunteer, if anyone will. The trail passes through a forest that we know is inhabited by a strange kind of humanoid that is something of a half man half dog like creature. Now, some folk have had good luck trading and dealing with these native, and others haven’t. I can’t tell you I know from one day to the next how many they are, where they live, how they live, anything. I can offer you one hundred dollars each if you’ll agree to see the wagon safely to the homestead and return in less than a week with news about the folks there.

Derrick bows deeply to the Major after entering the building, and he graciously sits at the table, accepting a mug of water. He sips it while the halfling speaks, and raises an eyebrow at Portia after the Major explains the "arrest"--See? Finally, he takes a sip and nods his head. "Major, I've already told you my sword is yours. I will gladly accompany the wagon, and you can use my pay for the betterment of the fort and its people."

After a good scrubbing and cleaning, her body and her psyche feel better. The events may very well be engrained in her thought forever, but at least she physically feels better. She walks into the inn, not surprised she is the last one and takes a seat.

She as well sits and nurses the first ale, and listens intently to the major, his story and the reasonings behind his actions and or words. She tries to "read" the Major and his intentions and overall demeanor but can't make heads or tails of the situation.

She sees an eyebrow raise from Derrick as the Major explain the arrest threat and simply fluff her hair with hand.

Just because he didn't threaten for real or so he says, doesn't make it okay. Hmp, men and their power trips.

After he is finished, she finishes the rest of her ale. The looks down at the floor, contemplating everything said. After a few minutes, she looks the major, dead in the eyes, Look, I don't know who to trust, other than the others sitting around the table right now. I will agree to accompany the wagon to the small village and be a wilderness guide if needed.

intuition: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5

"When did you want us to go? We've only just got here, and there are people here who need a good rest, and some healing."

Valind is intrigued by the talk of potential new people to trade with. Trade was, after all, another part of Valindor's portfolio.

Day 4, Fort Horizon

Major Finchley finalizes the details of the expedition to Mystic Valley. Unfortunately he has no map to offer, but can only give details about the trail, and some specific land marks. He tells the group gathered at the tavern that they should be ready to depart at sunrise tomorrow. He will now go and round up the other “volunteers” to make sure everything is set.

Meanwhile, Milana approaches Thikka on the streets

Hello, I was told that you are Thikka. My name is Milana ke’uma’a, and I heard from one of the soldiers that you are volunteering to go to Mystic Valley. Please forgive me for being so forward, I know we haven’t met. I run the small church here in Fort Horizon and even though people seem to come and go so quickly here, it is a comfort to some of them that there is a place where we welcome all believers. I was hoping I could ask you a favor. I have a sister, her name is Elinara, and she moved to Mystic Valley with a young human boy she was in love with. They left Fort Horizon late last summer and I miss her so much. Could you take a letter to her for me, please.

Derrick bows again to the major and heads out into the fresh air. He begins idly walking around the fort, not headed anywhere in particular. I wonder if I'll run into Hana again. She seemed nice.

Thikka looks at the elf, blinking her red eyes. "Well, the gods and I have a very good relationship, I don't muck in their business, and I curse them if they muck with mine. So don't expect to see me handing out cookies to orphans at your church." She says plainly, but her paw does reach out for the envelope. "Fool girl running off with a boy who'll die before she's seen her first century. Bloody stupid if you ask me, but then, that's kind of the definition of being in love isn't it. What's this lovestruck idiot look like? Like you? Or you have different parents?" She carefully puts the letter in her pack, wrapped up in some cloth so nothing will happen to it. "I'll bet she hasn't sent you a letter, fool too busy making calf eyes at some human boy with the attention span of a gnat." She comments, carefully packing the wrapped envelope to try to keep it from getting wet if it rains. "Wasn't aware I was going to Mystic Valley, but I did volunteer to help out wherever they need me. I guess that's as good as anything else, at least the caravan will have a healer. Fools will probably walk into an ambush along the way or something and need a healer." She ties the backpack up again, shrugs it on her frail looking shoulders, and then eyes the tall elf. "What's wrong with you elf girl? Some oversized cat man steal your tongue when you weren't looking?"

"Before you go, Major. I was hoping to talk with you about building a temple to Valindor. Might you have some small spot free, or some building I might hire. I'm afraid miscommunications have left me temporarily embarassed for funds, but I think I now have enough to pay some rent, with the money you're offering."
"Meanwhile, if I can be of any use to you in your letter writing around the caves I am happy to help."
diplomacy+silver tongued: 1d20 + 8 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 8 + 1 = 22
bluff+silver tongued: 1d20 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 4 + 1 = 6don't talk about the machines...Broken when we found them. Hope he doesn't wonder why the Lawyer was so worried about being arrested...

After Major Finchley leaves the tavern, Droka pulls out his hide drum and turns it upside down in front of him. Would any of you be interested in some musical entertainment?

Milana’s eye blink as the ratfolk woman rambles on. She tries to open her mouth once, then twice, to answer questions, but cannot keep up with the litany of comments. Finally she laughs

Oh, yes, haha, that old rumor. No, you see that isn’t true. We do not live for hundreds of years, as so many people believe, though our kind does live a bit longer than humans. The oldest person I ever knew back home was a man named Ik’manoma’an. He lived to be one hundred forty three. We normally, if we are healthy,”

Milana makes a sigh in the air to ward off the evil eye

”Live to be over one hundred, but this is long enough for those stories to get started that we elves live for hundreds of years. Thank you, Thikka. If you change your mind about going please give the letter to someone who is.”

Major Finchley listens to Valind’s request and then states, ”Milana and Warren are responsible for the religious needs of the community. Talk to them. As far as using one of the buildings. Well, hmm, let me see, there are some empty residences, built by folks who changed their minds after a harsh winter. Ask Mister Finster about the deeds. If you and he can work out a price, I’ll approve the paperwork.”

He then gives Valind a disapproving look.

”I’ll be talking to Drespore, about the caves. I’d appreciate it if you and your friends would respect my wishes and stay away from there. There will not be any authorized expeditions to that location, and I do not need documents drafted that would indicate otherwise. Do you understand me?”

Meanwhile, Droka begins playing some music, and Emmitio, the manager of the Shady Dragon, approaches him waving his hands.

”Look, young fellow, I’ve told you once before that I’ve got no license for that here. Take your playing out in the street like the others, o’we? Then you can keep all the coin you can earn, and we have no troubles. Right?”

Out on the street near the Shady Dragon Derrick runs into two strangers who are studying a poster advertising for volunteers* to deliver goods to Mystic Valley

The two strangers are Rolandor and Umbolath. These two individuals have seen each other in the Fort, but have not been properly introduced, and they are weary of each other

While Derrick eyes these two strangers Minerva is approached by a young human, a man of barely twenty, by the look of him, who asks her if she has seen the Halfling woman Jeannine Rentour.

This young man is dressed as a farmer, his face and hands are filthy, but he seems polite. His approach upsets Minerva, slightly as she was following, and watching closely, a well dressed man. The well dressed man goes into a shop, with a sign over the door that indicates it is a tailor’s business.

Minerva smiles at the young man, or at least bares her (almost inhumanly sharp) teeth in a vaguely friendly manner, one hand adjusting her cloak to cover herself a little better in shade as to hide her horns. "I'm afraid I've not seen any halflings recently, and none that I know by name." Even as she spoke, Minerva wrung her memory on the name and studied the young 'farmer'

Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 19
Knowledge (local): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11

She'd be long dead before she trusted first appearances, she had been hurt before

At the same time, while her mind whirled, Minerva put a not of geniune to her smile and gently touched the young human's arm to gently guide him out of her line of sight to the tailors, though she still smiled "I'm sorry I couldn't be more help, sir..?" She left the sentence hanging, hoping to draw a name out.

Thikka shrugs at the elf. "To you 140 years is not very long. To me, 35 is ancient." She comments, but nods at the elf, shuffling off with the letter. Stepping into a weapons shop, she taps at the counter. "Excuse me, do you have any staffs?"

Portia, after hearing the words looks down at the mug, then looks back up again. It will be nice to get outside and get back to nature. It has been while since I have been to the woods. I wonder what I will find in these woods, maybe a different species of bird or little critter. Besides, Issabelle will enjoy the fresh air and getting to spread those beautiful wings of hers.

Major, I don't recall you saying when we would leave. I would like to pick up some basic supplies before we head out.

after getting the answer

Portia turns to Valind and says with a wry smile, So, got any uplifting tunes for such a alleged grim situation?[b]

[b]Hello shop keep, I was wondering what you had in the way of dried fruits and meats. I am going out into the wilderness for some time, and wanted to pack accordingly. The generic tack is getting, well...old and I can only eat so much before I get burnt out on it. I don't mind paying for good quality. Do you happen to have any dried venison or dried seasonal fruit?

Derrick cocks his head to the side and looks at the men by the flyers. A call for more guards? This caravan must be very important. He shrugs and walks up to the side of the pair and looks at them sidelong. "So, are you thinking of signing up for the trip to Mystic Valley?"

Derrick is currently wearing very simple, homespun clothes--not sure whether a tunic and trousers or some kind of robe would be more appropriate to the setting. Either way he's currently wearing very basic sandals as well. His hair is pulled back out of his face, and he looks a little tired and road-worn. Tucked into a belt is a katana in its scabbard. Overall, he's a little short for a man, and pretty well-built. He looks very much like a young warrior growing into his own.

"Aye, that I am. There might be a call for my talents with this caravan. My name is Rolandor. And you might be...?" as Rolandor extends his hand in greeting.

Rolandor doesn't look like a typical elven mage. He wears leather armor and looks more like a ranger or scout. He has weapons that not many arcanists would use. He has an air of confidence, but not cockiness like others might expect.

"Do you know the place where one might sign on for this? Are you signed up for this as well? Interesting weapon there....I have not seen many like that."

"I understand Major. I understand." while reluctant to undertake an informal agreement like this Valind has been all too personally aware of the danger the area represents.
untrained perform: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10

At Portia's request he smiles
"A hymn? Clauses 4 through 27 of page 4, chapter 5 of 'on the management of risk' has always been uplifting for me!"
So saying he belts out a long, dry hymn full of long words, many of them in another language. He walks as he sings, and his performance could be charitably called only "enthusiastic".

Droka complies with the request to take the music outside. Once outside, he smiles, looking somewhat embarrassed, and says: I'm afraid my repertoire of music from this plane is quite limited, but I'm sure I'll pick it up quickly if you hum a few bars.

"Derrick," the man replies, shaking hands with the elf. "As far as I know the Major might still be in the Shady Dragon tavern, that way. As for my sword, it's the traditional weapon of the samurai. It's my way of life." He runs a hand along the grip of the weapon reverently and then grins. "Anyway, I'm also signed on as a guard. I've offered my blade to Major Finchley, and to the fort as a whole. It's my duty to serve."

Unbolath has been reading the poster, and considering it a worthy cause, acknowledges it with a nod to himself more than anything. He turns and notes Rolandor and Derrick, bowing in greeting.

"My name is Unbolath, and I too have decided to sign on with the caravan and give my aid."

Unbolath carries a massive greatsword on a scabbard across his back. A composite bow, unstrung and a quiver of arrows complements it. He carries a pack with him and appears to have just come from the trail himself. He towers over most humans, and his muscles ripple as he moves. He wears sturdy boots and breeches. His chest is bare but it and his arms and legs are crisscrossed or wrapped in a few bands of chains. The purpose of these is unclear as they do not bind him in any way. Perhaps they are symbolic. His eyes are pure black and his skin is grey like granite, although marbled in some places.

"I would speak with this Major regarding the tasks required."

He looks down the street and begins to stride purposefully in that direction.

To the inn then.....and it is Major Finchley you say? Can't be too many majors there.....

Rolandor goes towards the inn seeking the officer.

Unbolath strides into the Shady Dragon and scans the room. If it seems obvious who the Major is, he will approach politely, particularly if the Major is already engaged in any conversation.

If it is not obvious who the Major is he will ask a patron or barmaid to point him out.

Unbolath keeps his wits about him in any place with large crowds.

Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18

Rolandor enters the inn a few paces behind Unbolath, sweeping the room to find the major and gauge reaction to the entrance of the two men.

perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25

Valind accompanies Portia to the shop
"Ah - an excellent idea, Portia. I need to replenish my supplies as well."

"Say - if we're not leaving till tomorrow we'll need accommodation... Should we get the group back together again? Or do you want to accompany me to Mr Finster. If I'm going to get a room anyway we could stay there the night..."

Day 4, Fort Horizon

Minerva sends away the young farmer, and at the last minute catches the well dressed man coming back out of the tailor’s Shop

When Portia and Valind enter the general store they see a small anthropomorphic humanoid talking with the shop keeper who is showing the small rat-folk looking person a few different staves.

”Oh, well, most of these are just good walking sticks,” she tells the rat-folk, ”If you ant a solid staff, something you could drive sheep or cows with, and maybe knock about a few heads, you’ll want to see the smith.

Hearing Portia’s request, Belinda laughs, and says, ”Oh my, well yes naturally I’ve got a few sacks full of dried pears, plums, cherries, and some nuts that are imported from home. But, I think you find this exactly what you are looking for.”

Belinda goes behind the counter of the general store and reaches down, out of sight, and then hauls up a wooden grate filled with parcel looking packages wrapped in thick coarse material and tied with brown string.

It’s call pemmican, though I can’t tell you why. It’s a biscuit like thing made with all kinds of staple foods that will keep well from spoilage for many weeks. I can sell you a few packs if you want to try it, but let me tell you it doesn’t taste good unless you’ve got a pot and some good grease or lard to melt into a gruel.”

She unwraps one of the packages and shows you that it contains eighteen small bars that look like pressed bits of meat, with some oat or barely like binder, with hints of dried fruit and nuts smashed I into it for good measure.

I’m told you can survive on one of these every day, but you might be going hungry with that. I’ll sell you one pack, that’s eighteen bars, for five dollars

Belinda then notices Valind, and says to him

Mister Valind, I’m so glad you’ve returned. You know that salt you were showing me? Well, the young man named Landon, the fellow who works hides and leather, was in town yesterday and he came here looking for some very special salt. Said he needed it because he was working on something very special for a young lady of the fort. Do you know where he lives? Of course you don’t. Alright, listen up all you have to do is follow the creek back to the south about a half mile then you’ll see a homestead to the east on a little hill. That’s his place.

Mister Unbolath, Mister Thessalya, let me introduce myself. My name is Major Finchly, Barcomb Finchly and I make my living here in Fort Horizon by keeping track of the daily duties of those people employed by the Western Alliance Exploratory Company. I knew when you arrived here and I apologize for not introducing myself sooner. Sometimes I can get so caught up in the day to day activities around here that I can be a rude host. Is there something I can help you gentlemen with?

Thikka nods at the shop owner. "Thank you very much, I had assumed the blacksmith dealt only in metal weapons. I would prefer one that can be used to bark a few knees or shins. Always running into idiots who need their shins barked." The ratfolk woman says with some asperity. "People wanting to know if I'm afraid of cats, for example, or want to pet me on the head and feed me cheese. I hate cheese." She shudders. "Come to think of it, maybe I should hit those folks on the head, so I don't have to worry about doing permanent damage to them." She nods her head firmly. "Then again, maybe a mace would be better for that, for which I should see the blacksmith. Assuming he's not an idiot." She places two coppers on the counter. "A thank you for not being an idiot." She tells the shopkeeper, giving her a small bow. Then she turns around, and blinks at the sudden crowd of people who came in after her. "Oh. Sorry, please excuse me..."[b] She says, trying to push her way toward the front door. [b]"This is why I need a staff for barking shins..." She mutters to herself as she pushes through the crowd.

Yes sir.....I would like to sign up for the guard duty for the caravan. I believe Mr. Unbolath wants to as well...

Minerva turned back from sending off the farmer, and bit back a curse as her well dressed target exited from the tailors, much earlier than she'd hoped. She recovered from the surprise near instantly, and acted, blowing a tiny kiss at the retreating farmer.

He'd be looking at her. She was in the open, couldn't risk it.

She tilted her hood a little further over her head, and simply watched the farmer go, keeping a carefully hidden eye on her mark. She'd see which way he was heading, then follow at a safer distance.

Now it was just a question of hiding the fact that she was following him.

Bluff: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24

After watching the men head to see the Major, Derrick resumes walking around the fort aimlessly, just stretching his legs and killing time.

"Major, you are correct, I seek would like to express my interest in signing on to protect the caravan. I have letters of reference if required. I read the posted notice, but if there are any additional terms that we need to discuss we can do them at your convenience. If there are any specific provisions I would know them as well, in addition to the pertinent details."

"Landon. Follow creek back south about a half mile, then homestead to the east on a little hill." Valind repeats

"Thank you so much - I was worried I was going to end up with a lifetime supply of table salt!"

"Portia - would you like to accompany me?"

On the way to the shop, she ponders Valind's question for a moment, Bunking together I suppose would be just fine. Besides, it would be more cost effective to split the cost, she says with a smile.

Portia cannot help but stare at the creature at the counter. Part rat, part human. It was incredible to her, she had never knew such a being existed. She stared, until the creature turned around to leave, then she tried to stare beyond the rat-like man and at the store owner.

bluff: 1d20 ⇒ 4

After a few awkward moments, she listens to the shop owner and looks over the new food.

Hmm, anything I suppose is better than the hard tack I have had for the past weeks. How much total for the pemmican, lard and pan?

After getting a response, she looks to Valind, Shall we be off to see your new acquaintance about the salt?