Your very long journey begins in a bare, rocky expanse south of the Kantele River.
Then again, perhaps it is more fitting to say the journey began in Tregan, Halvon, Woodsedge, Azurestone, and the other few relatively safe corners of Galt. It was in these hamlets and havens for enemies of the Revolution that you met with Viscount Aristide about this secret expedition eastward, beyond Avistan.
Only when your trustworthiness and value were established did the one-time Galtan noble offer directions to the rendezvous - seemingly in the middle of nowhere, at the foot of the Fog Peaks. You found the Viscount’s agents waiting for you, but rather than directing you eastward to Stavintower or even Edme, the path turned south - into the mountains themselves.
A seemingly trackless path through the rugged foothills brings you to a small cave, barely a hole in the raw rock of the mountains’ base. Within, however, the tunnel widens, and your guide’s lantern reveals great stone doors sculpted with the likeness of dwarf lords of old.
Beyond, you are welcomed into a dwarven hold you had no idea existed.
Among the stoutfolk you find the other men and women recruited for the expedition, working together to load supplies onto the caravan of wagons assembled.
Carefully stacked piles of lumber and bricks. Coils of rope and packs of nails. Bundles of clothing and rolls of canvas. Sacks of grain and vegetables. Jars of preserved fruit and bundles of salted meat. It all gets hefted onto the wagons by men and dwarves.
In one of the adjoining stone plazas, you even see beleaguered herders attempting to keep some goats and sheep in line as a crowd of dwarves look on. Tiny dwarf children struggle against their mothers’ grasp to rush forward and pet the animals while the mothers shake their heads dismissively at the livestock dirtying their hold.
As a cacophony of sounds echo off the great stone arches supporting the mountain’s weight above the underground highway, you can feel that something truly ambitious is unfolding before you.
Kalig stands observing the goat and sheep-herding. She is a tall woman, in a patchwork cloak and armor that at a glance appears piecemeal as well, but has been well fitted to her. Flail and shield are slung across her back. Plainly half-orcish, her lower canines jut from her extended lower jaw. She seems simply awkward looking, like her bones are too big for her flesh--not skinny, just oddly proportioned. She mutters to a donkey wearing a packsaddle, whose lead she holds in her hand.
She watches the dwarves and the bustle with deep fascination--she has traveled widely but visiting a dwarven hold for her is a first. She closes her eyes a moment to feel the thrum of the underground streets before opening them again. "Watch that one, sirrah," she points at a goat and a herder near it, "It's about to bolt."
Mia entered the hold with an expression of Awe on her face. She wears a verdant skirt, with a earthy green cloak overtop wonderfully made leaf armor with intricate designs woven into it. Teriel, her half-elven assistant followed behind, guiding Mia's horse Albert who pulled her wagon. Mia felt slightly uneasy, she was much more at home in the woods or open fields. But something about being in a dwarven hold for the first time excited her.
Her wagon held a few barrels or crates. Mostly herbs, some rations and feed for the horse along with the workings of a small alchemical shop.
Albert, her horse, required constant attention, as the knowledge that he was underground seemed to worry him. Mia, shy as ever, kept to herself and her things. Sketching things she saw in her notebook. Particularly any dwarven runes or etchings that caught her eye. Teriel, however, always eager to meet new people was chatting with anyone, particularly any dwarf, that would put up with her. Mia watches her between her sketches and just smiles.
After several minutes of watching the hot mess that was the herders attempting to control their animals. Mia takes a deep, steadying breath, and walks over to try and help.
Here... l-let me uh, try to see if I can uh help, with them.... If, if that is ok... She manages to whisper out before she kneels down and offers some of the more rambunctious animals some treats. However, she never was good around crowds, much less when so many eyes were on her and she was slightly distracted. oh no... so many people watching... common, you can do this. You kept Albert calm right? so, these guys shouldn't be too different.
Dorick rides up to the disturbance. He is a fairly brawny man, well used to the rigours of riding into battle. Well-groomed black hair and a similar moustache are visible on him despite the rigours of the journey, though few scars. His lance and mail are of older make though still of high quality, and he bears many symbols of noble Taldor. His mount is a chestnut brown horse with alert eyes. Mount and barding are well looked after.
"Woah, Caragus! We stop here!"
Caragus ceases moving and Dorick dismounts with well-practiced ease. His words when they come are warm. He aims to calm the agitated creature.
"Here, let me help. This one is a bit skittish!"
"Easy there, easy..."
Meandering down the last stretch of road, Valentina and her sister tiredly make the last push to the rendezvous point. Mabel, a young blonde-haired girl of ten, wears a damp traveling cloak over her outfit and rides of the pair's horse Mabel. Valentina, a young woman with buzzed hair, a grim tight look on her face, and a sword belted to her hip, walks alongside the horse. They both look dirty and tired, and have little other than saddlebags filled with hardtack and the things which they carry.
"Look, Mabel," sighs Valentina, pointing at the hold. "Dwarves."
Though the hardships of the last month weighed heavily on her heard, and a kernel of burning-hot anger festered for the arrogance of the revolutionaries, the sight of the settlement preparations gave Valentina hope.
"Let's go see if the Viscount has any time for us," she says, and leads the horse farther in, asking around for where the leader of this expedition might be.
Sitting astride her iron-grey mare for a moment longer, Lena closed her eyes and listened to the sounds echoing off the stone archways. The general clamour seemed in hand, except for a few agitated goats and sheep, but it appeared there were people taking care of the animals or attempting to.
Lena gently patted Liadan's face before gracefully dismounting. Her gear was stowed in the saddlebags and tied to the saddle. Lena was dressed in a laurel green cloth skirt, white shirt over which she wore a finely crafted hide shirt and cloak of midnight blue with the hood up. She wore sturdy leather boots and at her hip were her weapons; a high quality rapier and light mace. Lena pushed back her hood and her long, brown hair was braided over one shoulder. A friendly smile graced her face and lit up her silver-green eyes.
Drawing her horse easily by the reins, she walked over to the tall Half-Orc woman who was gently instructing the herders.
"Good day, Miss. I am Lena Kensley. I do enjoy helping out, but in this instance I will leave the animals to those better skilled at calming them. Do you mind if I stand here with you and wait until they are ready for us?" Lena gave a warm smile and waited for the taller woman beside her to answer. By Shelyn's grace, her height is impressive, she silently mused.
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A young woman walks in to the cave leading a small donkey. Soraya doesn't really stand out in many ways. She's about average height, maybe 5'5", with brown hair and brown eyes. Her hair is tied back with a handkerchief to keep it out of her face. The crow's feet at the edges of her eyes seem to indicate an older age, one that is at odds with her otherwise youthful appearance. She has the tanned skin of someone who's used to working outside. She's neither particularly attractive nor unattractive, neither thin nor fat. Her clothes are also fairly muted: a light brown blouse and a darker brown skirt, comfortable boots, practical and durable. A dark green cloak that's seen better days is draped over one shoulder, and there seems to be a bit of leather covering that shoulder as well.
Her nondescript appearance paints a sharp contrast to the beautiful owl riding on that same shoulder. A little over a foot tall, it has mottled red and brown plumage on its back and head that frames the white heart-shaped face typical of barn owls. Its eyes are open and expressive as it shrieks, clicks, and trills in the young woman's ear. It seems to be in a very excited state as it occasionally points its head and flaps its wings, making additional curious noises as it stretches its neck to look at all the hub-bub. She gently strokes the owl's back with her opposite hand, making calming cooing noises.
She chuckles softly to herself. "It looks like we found them, Lucias." She tries to take in some of the sights as her eyes adjust to the splendor of the dwarven architecture. She leads her donkey over to an area where people seem to be gathering with pack animals.
"I didnt expect to be traveling into a dwarf hold on this journey.Stay with the cart please love, im going to see if I can help anywhere."
A tall lithe younger man began to the slightly younger woman sitting on the back of a two wheeled cart filled to the brim and more with supplies casks and goods lashed tight with ropes and canvas. He was dressed plainly, with a dark cloak that he was slowly taking off due to the warmth of the hold. His long blond hair was pilled back in a well groomed ponytail. The slight gleam of a chain shirt worn underneath a plain dark woolen shirt with short sleaves glistened in the lights. On his hip was a rapier and dagger.
The slightly younger woman, stood out more in a fine made dress of a pale blue hue,her pale hair curled intricately.She nodded hesitantly clearly ill at ease with either the journey, being underground.
"Be... be careful Francoix." She half whispered as she rose from the back of the cart and moved forward torwards the Mule pulling the cart.
He glanced over to the gathering throng of people near the pack animal where they had stopped, he couldnt help but look them over as he moved to find anyone whom seemed in charge.
Drawing her horse easily by the reins, she walked over to the tall Half-Orc woman who was gently instructing the herders."Good day, Miss. I am Lena Kensley. I do enjoy helping out, but in this instance I will leave the animals to those better skilled at calming them. Do you mind if I stand here with you and wait until they are ready for us?" Lena gave a warm smile and waited for the taller woman beside her to answer. By Shelyn's grace, her height is impressive, she silently mused.
Kalig, used to being wary on the road, gives the woman a once-over glance, but quickly sees she's probably just a nice lady. Kalig offers a brief smile. "I don't mind, miss. Best not to crowd the animals, it'll spook'em more." She offers a hand. "Kalig. Given you're not a dwarf, I take it you're joining the expedition?"
She offers a hand. "Kalig. Given you're not a dwarf, I take it you're joining the expedition?"
"I will keep in mind not to crowd the animals. It's nice to meet you, Kalig," shaking the proffered hand. "And aye, I will be in the expedition. If you are travelling unaccompanied, then, perhaps, we can keep each other company. I hear it's a very long way." Lena smiled and waited for Kalig to respond. During the brief pause, she looked about and noted that some of others had joined them in the immediate area. "It seems others have gathered near us."
Lena then politely asked the others, "Are you all joining the expedition?"
The goat much calmer, Dorick turns to Lena, doffing his helmet:
"Miss Kensley, a pleasure. I am Sir Dorick Granstead, of the Most Worthy Order of the Lions, the Taldor Horse, and of the venerable House Granstead. I had been charged by the Exarch Dantus the Fourth, to venture into the lands of Galt and assist the nobility therein. And the good viscount certainly counts, so here I am.", he adds with a wry smile.
"But Dorick will be fine. This is not a court in Taldor and I do not expect others not of there to adhere strictly to protocols they never had to learn."
At Sir Dorick's respectful introduction, Lena smiled warmly and inclined her head, "What fine manners you have, sir, and very well done with the naughty goats and sheep - they are behaving themselves now. I'm pleased to meet you, Dorick. Please do call me Lena, for you are right that strict formality on this expedition is not entirely warranted. Have you met my friend, Kalig, here? I've recently arrived and I'm unaware if people have become acquainted with one another as yet."
"I made one great blunder in etiquette which cost me dearly. It has given me great incentive to redouble my efforts!"
He looks at Kalig with curiosity but not in an unfriendly manner.
"I had not met any on this expedition besides the Viscount himself and his immediate retainers. It is a pleasure to meet you Kalig. Your concern for the welfare of the beasts is laudable."
Kalig smiles at the posh banter between Lena and Dorick.
"Yes, well, we rely on these critters to keep us alive, so we'd best return the favor until their time has come." She shakes her head. "You're the first folks I've met for this trip." She lets an eye wander to the others gathering, to show she's open to them piping in as well. "All waiting for Aristide, I expect."
Each of you scans the bustling crowd, looking for Viscount Aristide.
As Dorick and Kalig exchanged pleasantries, Lena looked across and spotted the young woman with the kerchief in her hair and an owl perched on her shoulder. She lifted her hand and politely waved the woman and her animals closer. "Hello. I'm Lena. Would you care to join us as we wait for the Viscount? Such a fine looking barn owl you have there." Then from the corner of the eye she spotted the Chelish nobleman. To her companions, she steadily directed, "I see Viscount Aristide, there by the provisions wagon. He is securing the canvas. Shall we go and speak with him?" Lena nodded, and, then *clicking* her tongue for Liadan to move forward and drawing her reins, led the way to the said wagon.
When she was before him, she smiled openly, inclined her head in due respect and spoke, "Good day, Lord Aristide. I hope you are well. The work, here, is impressive. In the event that you do not recollect my name, I am Lena Kensley."
Valentina leads their horse by its reins with Mabel on top, across the lawn. "Let's go meet our hostess, Mabel." she says. She was surprised at herself that she was surprised the Viscount was a woman. Good, she thought. Women should always rule.
She waves cheerily as she gets closer. "Hello, Ms. Aristide, I'm Valentina Silverstone. I just wanted to come and say how impressed I am with all of this, and how excited I am to be a part of it."
Soraya nods to Lena and accepts her invitation, walking over to join them. "Thank you. He is rather handsome," she says, stroking the owl' neck. "I'm Soraya. Pleased to meet you. And your companions," she adds. "You've a lovely animal yourself."
She stops in her tracks at Lena's turn of phrase regarding the Viscount. "Him?" Perhaps she means her husband. Huh. What do you call the spouse of a Viscount? Nobility and their silly titles. She follows behind keeping an eye out for the woman SHE knew as Viscount.
Kalig's eyes travel to where Lena indicates and sees the Chelish man. "But that's not..." she objects, as Lena walks away from her with her horse.
"... Aristide." Kalig frowns, seeing the woman with the little girl address a woman by the same name.
Pulling on Matilda's lead, clicking to try to get her to keep pace with her, Kalig approaches the Garundi fellow who had introduced himself to her earlier as Aristide. "Alright, fella, what's going on here? You said you were the viscount, but everyone else is calling other people by the same name."
Dorick confidently steps up towards the Viscount. And then starts to notice the confusion.
In slight exasperation, he stops walking.
"Viscount, what is going on here? An explanation must be forthcoming and sufficient."
The Taldan woman and Garundi man share looks of confusion and trepidation, while the Chellish man shakes his head, unamused.
”I suppose an explanation is rightfully due,” comes a voice from a neighboring open wagon.
Moving closer, you discover a distinguished-looking Taldan man perched on the wagon’s seat with a blanket covering his lap and legs. His carefully groomed mustache remains dark as ebony, though his hair is flecked with gray to betray his looming middle age.
He turns to look at the laborers and settlers assembling around him, offering a fatherly smile.
”I am Viscount Valdemir Aristide, and you have my apologies for the deception,” he begins.
”In assembling this expedition, each of you met not with me, but one of my allies. Some of you met with my steadfast bodyguard, Hovant,” he says with a wave of his palm towards the sturdy Chellish warrior. ”Others met with my steward, Gustav, who will be joining us shortly. Others still spoke with two of my most trusted friends: Ulfgar and Freya Brightshield, two of this dwarf hold’s most respected citizens. They used their magic to ‘borrow’ the appearance of other members of my retinue as they interviewed potential settlers.
“It is doubtful that I need to reiterate how dangerous Galt has become of late. A former noble rallying people dissatisfied with the Revolution? The mob and their Gardeners would prize my head upon their final blades, and then they would turn their wrath upon all who aided me. I hope that you all can both understand by reasoning and forgive my trespass against your trust.”
The Viscount sighs deeply, once again surveying the crowd that has gathered around his seat on the wagon.
”In my days as a young swain, I was considered tall, dark, and handsome.” He hesitates for a moment before continuing.
Visibly steeling his courage, Aristide flings the blanket from his lap - revealing that both of his legs end above the knees in scarred stumps.
”As you can see, these days, I try to make do with simply two out of the three," he jokes grimly.
"The Revolution has taken much from me, but I am hardly unique in this regard. In suffering and loss, we are kin. Even at the outset of this endeavor, I believe we already share a bond that will carry us across the many leagues - and years - ahead.”
Despite his infirmity, the Viscount sits tall in his seat as he tries to inspire the settlers.
”Individually we have lost much, but together we will build something magnificent to replace all that we leave behind.”
As the group begins to come together there is, from the edge of your hearing, the sound of someone chanting. As it gets closer, it resolves into something more akin to singing, although that's not quite right either.
Rounding into the cavern come a handful of Hobgoblins, surrounded by a large group of very nervous Dwarven warriors, all of whom are armed, though none are currently pointing their weapons at the Hobgoblins.
All of the Hobgoblins have similarly colored skin: a kind of muddy mix of green and gray, marking them as either being related or from the same area.
While almost all of them appear to be warriors of some stripe, given the heavier armor, shields, and weapons, there are three that stand out.
The first appears to be an officer of some kind. She is the one leading the rest in a song of march, and it is she who calls them to rest, then has them snap to attention with a truly cacophonous THUD that echoes off of the surrounding walls.
The second one who appears different is also a female. This one wears fetishes and skull charms, and has several smaller skulls woven into her hair, that likely clink when she moves her head.
The last one is clearly the master of the Hobgoblins, however. He stands nearly 7 feet in height, and has proportionate muscle mass for such a massive frame. His skin is more the color of stone then the rest of those he leads, and if you were to try and sum him up in a single word, it would likely be "Tough". He wears light armor, and no visible weapons.
It is this last Hobgoblin that, after giving instructions to the female officer, approaches the Viscount and says "My tribe and I are here, as we agreed. We had a bit of trouble getting through the Dwarves at the gate, which is why we were late."
He had been frowning at the deception even as the leader of this expedition began to explain his reasoning. He was about to ask about the very expedition when the chanting began. At the first sight of the hobgoblins depsite being ringed by dwarves he was moving, straight for his cart and his wife. If there was to be any sort of troubles they would have to go through him first.
He raised an eyebrow, figuratively and literally when the large one mentioned some form of agreement between the viscount and the well.. large and scary humanoid. He turned to face the viscount waiting to hear his response.
Mia merely stands to the side of the crowd and looks down in thought. Well.. that does make sense.. but... I haven't really lost anything to the chaos in Galt I just... wanted to get away from it... should I have let someone else go in my place? Am I selfish?... No. No, the ley lines converge very close to the spot the count wants to found a town at. I have to make sure that the town survives, and that they do not disturb, or be disturbed by, this Menhir. Besides Mia, you are very useful. They will love having you along. She gives a small nod and a Hpmh before realizing she did it and looked around slightly embarrassed.
When the Imposing hobgoblin and the tribe came forward however, Mia visibly jumps. Surely not... I mean they.. No. Mia, don't judge them purely based on their race. They may be decent enough and merely looking to make a life for themselves much like you. Though... with that many, if they ever decided they didn't want, or need us around anymore... That could be catastrophic...
At this point, Teriel, Mia's assistant bounds up near the count, seemingly uncaring of the hulking figure near her stopping just slightly in front of The 7 foot hobgoblin leader. The top of her head coming just below his shoulders. She turns to give him a wide smile and a wave. Her blonde hair bounces as she speaks and her blue eyes reflect the lights in the hold like sapphires.
Greetings Mr. Count. I'm Teriel, Mia's assistant and apprentice! We are both here and ready to guide you quickly and safely through just about any type of terrain! And, obviously, ease or remedy just about any type of ailment you may have. She turns to Mai, waving for her to come to her.
Mia merely gives an embarrassed smile and a small wave before looking down and letting out a sigh. She manages to whisper G-Good afternoon Sir Aristide.. I'm uh, Mai Ravenlock... though you probably already know that... She becomes almost impossible to hear near the end of her sentence.
Teriel sighs, and forcefully drags Mai closer before whispering. Just pretend there aren't so many other people. Or that they look up to you like me. Mia just shakes her head in response before finally looking up towards the count.
Yes, I... I can take you down the quickest, and safest paths of most any land. And, apologies for my assistant, she is just... uh.. v-very excited about being able to partake in this expedition. A-As I am sure everyone is. She just, has um... a very, energetic way of showing it.... She manages to say before looking at the ground exhausted.
Dorick listens to Aristide's explanation. So fixated he is, he barely notices the troupe of hobgoblins marching in.
He remains silent for a short pause.
"Viscount Aristide, I am Sir Dorick Granstead, of the Most Worthy Order of the Lions, the Taldor Horse, and of the venerable House Granstead. I had been charged by the Exarch Dantus the Fourth, to venture into the lands of Galt and assist the nobility therein. And as I thought I said to your good self recently, I am most willing to aid you in this expedition and settlement. I hold to that word. And should you or anyone else wish to call me by Dorick, that is most acceptable given the environs."
The Hobgoblin waves back at the young woman and smiles without teeth. Remember, that makes them less afraid. Fendir thought to himself.
Seeing a crowd gather around the Viscount, Valentina decides to hang back for the time being. He was a cripple, and he was also still human. Nobody appreciated getting mobbed by hands wanting to be shaken and smiling faces waiting for favor. Instead, she just tries to find a bare spot to set up at, to tie up their horse, and to lay down a bedroll to sit on. It had been a long journey, and her legs were tired. "Watch out for those people, Mabel," she says, indicating the hobgoblins. "Those are hobgoblins. Known for very little more than they are known for murder, enslavement, and war."
Soraya was only slightly put-out by the deception. She could see how the viscount may have thought it necessary. Although she prefers the truth herself. She was about to introduce herself when she heard to chanting. Her head whipped around, her staff in her hands as she thought they may be under attack. But there was no attack, and for that she was grateful.
I haven't met any hobgoblins who weren't out for blood, but I have been unfairly judged myself in the past. If they pose no threat, I will judge them by their actions. Her owl gives a tentative trill.
"It's okay, Lucias. They aren't here for violence." She suspects they may have been hired to guard the journey. A curious choice, yes, but perhaps one that would be unsuspected by other Galtan nobles.
"Fear not," the Viscount calls to the crowd of humans and dwarves. "These are friends - fellow settlers. Their tribe has faced persecution and dwindled to the mere dozen you see here today. They have vowed to help protect our caravan during the journey in exchange for their own stake in our new community."
The Viscount's words mollify the crowd, although many continue to eye the hobgoblins warily. His own expression softens by a shade, betraying his own uncertainty about whether he could diffuse this tense first meeting.
"We set forth on the morrow," Aristide declares. "Our dwarven allies have offered their hospitality as we rest and prepare for our departure. This may be your last chance to enjoy a real bed and the other comforts of civilization for several weeks, so please appreciate the kindness of our hosts."
"If there are any last supplies or tools you need, please visit the hold's merchants. Remember," Aristide says, a hint of grim reality emerging in his voice, "One hundred leagues lay between us and the Castrovin Sea. To endure such a journey, there is no such thing as too much preparation."
Aristide eases back in his seat.
"The rest of the day is yours. We will soon be a community, so please take the time to meet your new fellows."
"Will you be okay if I leave you for a couple hours, Mabel?" asks Valentina, putting a hand on her younger sister's shoulder. Valentina pulls a scrap of parchment out of her pocket which she had prepared while on the road: things they would need in the wilderness which she hadn't purchased already. "I need to go deeper into the hold to see if they have any of these supplies."
Mabel, who doesn't want to worry or burden her sister any further than she feels she already has (for what 20-year-old wants the burdens of parenthood unwillingly) flippantly says, "I was just gonna take a nap. Don't worry."
Valentina nods, looks cautiously around - especially at the group of hobgoblins - but ultimately decides that this crowd is too public for anything to happen. Then, she stalks off into the city to buy some things they would need for the journey. She would pull her own weight, so she buys a few tools useful on the road, bags to carry them in on Mulligan, a tent to shelter from the elements, and an axe for woodcutting.
The leader of the Hobgoblins - clearly the large one - returns to his people and begins barking orders at them in his native tongue. They quickly move to their assigned quarters, each warrior's face a mask of grim determination.
Looking again, there was perhaps something to the Viscount's story. Though they marched in a manner that would make any veteran soldier proud, they were clearly exhausted. Their equipment, though well serviced, had definitely seen signs of combat.
Once they were escorted out of sight by the Dwarves, the large one stayed behind. He would approach as many of the different groups of colonists, and say some variation of the same thing "Greetings. In the spirit of our new shared endeavor, my tribe would like to invite you to dinner. Please join us at our meeting spot this evening so that we may all get to know each other."
After waiting for a reponse, he would turn on his heels and leave.
Kalig is intrigued by Aristide's revelation. A little annoyed at the deception, yes, but she nonetheless understands the need for discretion. Her mind wanders to the usefulness of being able to change one's face, when the hobgoblins march in...
Could be worse, Kalig muses to herself, thinking of unhappy childhood memories, could be orcs. At least hobs are organized.
Kalig approaches the viscount. "Then it's you I at least have to thank for having me. I'm Kalig, called 'The Tireless.' What's exactly my job on the caravan?"
When the hobgoblin invites the group together, she nods. "Thanks."
When she sees the woman leave the little girl behind, Kalig occasionally turns an eye toward where the child is napping, in between working with Matilda on teaching the donkey to heel. She figures the overall crowd is friendly enough and the area safe, but having been kidnapped herself, just keeps an eye out just in case.
Mabel isn't actually napping, but rather people-watching. The young girl and the tall half-orc meet eyes for a moment, and Mabel, brave and weird girl that she is, keeps eye-contact for as long as it takes to make Kalig uncomfortable.
He briefly leans over with a wink. He then looks around the moving crowd again before turning back to you.
"Most of our fellow settlers have never strayed so far from civilization - myself included," he chuckles. "We need someone who can guide our choices on the trail with wisdom and ensure that we're not entirely at the mercy of the elements once we arrive."
Aristide pauses briefly, considering his words before continuing.
"In the spirit of being more honest with everyone, I must also admit that it will be good to have a spot of magic on our side, such as that magic berry you offered Ulfgar when you thought he was me. In my search, I could not find any reputable priests or clergy to join us. That's why I reached out to you, as well as Misses Ravenlock and Blacktip - to provide some magic of mending and health, along with your knowledge of the wild world.
"An invitation was extended to our new hobgoblin friends for similar reasons. Trustworthy guards and soldiers were in short supply. My agents found too many of them with ties to the unruly mob, the Revolutionary Council, or worse yet, the Gray Gardeners themselves. As surprising as it may be, these hobgoblins were the safer option for protection."
Soraya is surprised at the invitation to dinner. Wow. They really ARE reaching out. Determined to grant them the courtesy they have shown, she nods her assent. "Thank you. I shall." And who knows, if the other people join in as well, it might be an opportunity to meet others.
She can't help overhearing the tail end of the half-orc speaking to Aristide, particularly when he mentions her name. She takes it as a good chance to introduce herself. "Forgive me for intruding, but I heard my name." She gives a slight curtsy, which makes her owl screech a little bit as he resettles himself. "I'm Soraya, Soraya Blacktip. I am pleased to meet you both and I am at your disposal. I thank you for including me on this journey."
"I should thank you for joining us, Ms. Blacktip," he says gregariously, eyes briefly darting between Soraya and her owl.
"As I was saying to Miss Kalig, the skills of a healer - both mundane and magical - will be invaluable on the frontier."
"Right you are, my lord," says a handsome man as he approaches the Viscount's wagon, a messenger bag slung over his shoulder held close with ink-stained fingers. With a curt brow, he ignores the others for a moment and reports to Aristide, "Pardon the intrusion, but the stowing of provisions is nearly complete, sir. The final barrels are being loaded now, and I believe that the thane here has ensured that a small cask of his distillers finest is among them, a personal gift. I passed along your profound thanks, of course. If it pleases you, I'll let the laborers see to their families once the work is done, post a watch from the guards for the night, and see to the final provisions for your personal stores."
With a brief nod to Soraya and Kalig, who note a sparkle of gold in his eyes he departs back to the ranks of wagons and bustling caravan to direct the packing and, when complete, orders the human and dwarven laborers to rest for the night. The warriors he sets to watches, two at a time from now until dawn, before he strides deeper into the dwarf settlement.
"Ah yes, thank you, my old friend," Aristide says, his already bright mood lifting further at Gustav's arrival. "Now that Fendir's tribe has arrived without incident, the most difficult of the preparations are behind us."
The Viscount lifts himself up slightly, scanning among the crowd.
"Of course, I will rest soundly once I know that our two guides have arrived through the south gate."
Mia simply smiles, the others all have more stature than her and she honestly prefers to remain in the background. Teriel however seems exasperated that Mia let the others take the for front. However, she just sighs and shakes her head.
Mia will take a small note and lay it quietly on Aristides wagon while he is distracted by the others. She then quietly walks away to check up on her horse Albert and her wagon.
When approached by Fendir,she merely gives a nod of her head. Spending most of the conversation looking to the ground.
Should I go? Teriel will almost certainly try to make us.. But I'd rather sit and enjoy the sights of this place before our travels..
Sir Aristide, I'd like to thank you for giving me the opportunity to come along with you. Should you ever need any ointments, potions, or simply someone to listen, I and Teriel will be glad to be of service. I look forward to guiding you and the rest as best I can in the coming weeks. Don't worry about food for us, we will manage just fine.
-yours, Mia Ravenlock
Kalig nods to Aristide and chuckles. "Fair enough. Just checking to see how you were organizing things. I'll be about my duties then, and leave you to yours."
When Kalig glances over to check on the child and sees Mabel ISN'T sleeping, Kalig answers the girl's intense stare for a good looong while before letting her face erupt into the fiercest of raspberries. Seeing the girl is not wandering off or in danger, Kalig then turns her attentions to her donkey for a bit.
As opportunity strikes, she also signals to Mia (and Teriel, but it is Mia who has her attention). The girl connected with the animals well and spoke of pathfinding and herbs, so she hazards a guess, and speaks to Mia in low tones in the Druidic tongue.
The dwarf hold, whose name means Stoneriver as you learn, is centered upon an ancient highway carved through the Fog Peaks. The caravan wagons sit parked upon this broad, ageless road, poised to roll through the southern gates into the Whistling Plains on the following morning.
The roads, plazas, and stairs branching off from this road are thronged by dwarven merchants offering their wares, promising they will serve you well on the journey. Smiths offer cutlery of fine iron and engraved silver. Tailors promise to have clothes, woven from mountain sheep wool, let out before morning. And of course, provisioners offer smoked and peppered cheeses, spiced sausages, dried mushrooms, and hard tack and mountain goat butter.
.....
Later that evening, Fendir's tribe welcomes its new allies to dinner on an isolated cliff grotto overlooking the northern foothills of the Fog Peaks, reached only by a lonely stair from the hold.
Few of the other settlers join, but Viscount Aristide arrives, carried upon a disc of magic force conjured by a dwarf woman who accompanies him. Members of the Viscount's retinue also join, including two new faces: an olive-skinned woman with a strange scarified pattern upon her left cheek, and a stocky centaur man.
At Kalig's words Mia turns. She speaks softly
In response to the hobgoblin's offer, Dorick responds:
"Thank you for your offer. I shall indeed attend."
**************
After Aristide's speech ends and the hubbub dies down, Dorick takes Aristide's advice to heart. While he had prepared to reach this location with supplies to spare, he will have to do likewise again.
With a clearer picture of what will be required, Dorick makes for the stalls and merchants. Better to spend coin now than suffer later. A month's supplies for himself and Caragus should cover eventualities, along with spares for the needs of both.
Trail Rations (30) 15
Feed (30) 1.5
Traveller's Outfit 1
Cold Weather Outfit 8
Backpack (empty) 2
Saddlebags 4
Bedroll 0.1
Winter Blanket 0.5
Flint and Steel 1
Tent 10
2 Waterskins 2
10 empty sacks 1
4 lb of Soap 2
Gold Remaining: 7.2g
**************
Later that evening, with arrangements made for his supplies, Dorick walks up the stairs to the dinner. He makes a point of introducing himself to the unfamiliar individuals.
"Greetings, I am Sir Dorick Granstead, though Dorick will be fine. I shall hazard a guess that you are the pair of scouts that Viscount Aristide referred to? I am pleased to make your acquaintance regardless."
Kalig nods at Mia, and moves back to Common. "I was adopted too. Twice. Well, you and I were taken on for much the same reason, I expect. If I see anything that's poses concern for our survival--whether an immediate threat or just someone not knowing what the hell they're doing--you let me know, and I'll do the same."
It seemed wise to have kept his true identity a secret from each of them, and, the slight deception held no ill will, so she wasn't entirely put out. She simply inclined her head toward the real Viscount Aristide and bid her "hello's".
Lena had purchased most of what she required for the journey, however upon the Viscount's words deemed it practical to visit the hold's merchants and purchase clothing for colder weather. It would not do to freeze to death on the journey to the new land. She had no idea how many children there would be in the new settlement or adults for that matter who wanted to learn. So to start, she purchased five chalkboards and ten sticks/pieces of white chalk. If I need to make some books, I will do so once I am properly established, she mused silently as she smiled at the merchant and bid them "Thank you and good bye."
Lena's thoughts moved onto the hobgoblin tribe. What an interesting addition, but the Viscount did say they had been persecuted and almost the entire tribe eradicated. This will mean they will be loyal to the settlement, if they are treated fairly. She gave a nod at the end of the thought as if punctuating the necessity for mutual respect and working together.
"Greetings. In the spirit of our new shared endeavour, my tribe would like to invite you to dinner. Please join us at our meeting spot this evening so that we may all get to know each other."
When the hogolblin named Fendir approached her with his invitation, Lena smiled and politely replied, "Good day, and, of course I will join you. Thank you."
When the time came to attend the dinner, Lena followed the others and carefully made her way up the stairs to the cliff grotto. She looked at the people gathered there, smiled and inclined her head appropriately, "Good evening. I am Lena Kensley," and with another smile moved forward and watched as the Viscount and his retinue of a few joined them. She silently marvelled at the disc of magic force carrying the Viscount.
Lena quietly looked over the woman and centaur-man beside the Viscount and waited for their introduction.
Valentina doesn't feel safe bringing Mabel to dinner in an isolated spot with hobgoblins, so when she's finished buying supplies for the journey, she simply finds some hot dwarven food with Mabel and sits in the spot she's carved out for them. For the rest of the evening, she speaks with Mabel about her dreams for the coming settlement. This Viscount Aristide seems like a good man, something for which Valentina is very grateful. If they can all make it through the journey and their destination is fertile and verdant, she sees a bright future ahead of them.
He accepted the Hobgoblin's invitation quickly, making sure to keep himself between Noemie and the fearsome looking creature. It was easy to see the slim young man clearly didnt fully trust the creature. For her part Noemie looked intruigued. It was one of the things that Francoix loved about her. Since that day that they had to... well she had seemed fearless. It wasnt a complete change from whom she was before, but it was like the shackles over her spirit at being the lady in waiting for the noblewoman that had "rescued" her, had come off allowing her true self to fly.
"Did you want to go into the town and look over the merchants love? before this dinner i mean?"
He asked her not surprised when she nodded. She held most of their saved coin anyhow, he was sure she would fine. He gave her a quick kiss as she went shopping while he stayed with their cart and studied the others. He wasnt shocked when Noemie returned with a few things parceled up being carried by a dwarven youth. . . just in time to make their way to the hobgoblin feast. At the feast like many of the others he introduced himself and his wife simply, not giving too much information nor questioning much There was of course a long trip to get to know others.
He was however interested in the two newest newcomers, the olive skinned woman and the centaur male... he had read about them once.. in a fairy tale book as a child. Seeing one was... well it left him a bit awestruck and quiet.
"Good evening, my friends," Aristide calls as he is set down upon a low, flat rock worn smooth by the countless generations that have used it as a seat. "Thank you all for coming, and I owe especial thanks to Fendir and his tribe for inviting us to dine with them."
The Viscount looks around the cooking fire that illuminates the grotto in the waning light of dusk. Despite being late in Pharast, the mountainous heights makes it feel as though winter never relinquished its hold on the world. A shiver runs across Aristide's shoulders, but he remains on guard for signs of disharmony.
Satisfied that the evening remains placid among the disparate peoples brought together, he continues with introductions.
"First, allow me to introduce Freya Brightshield," he says with a politely raised palm towards the dwarf woman beside him, wearing silver-rimmed spectacles. "In addition to being an exceptionally skilled wizardess she, along with her twin brother, is one of the chief advisors to the Thane of Riverstone.
"Speaking of her brother, I apologize that Ulfgar was unable to join us today. As I understand it, any moment of his not required by Thane Caudor was instead occupied by Ulfgar's many grandchildren," he laughs. "However, we will both ensure that he is present tomorrow to provide a blessing for our departure."
Aristide then turns his attention to the other two new faces. The woman remains apart from the gathering, keeping a seat on the shadowy edge of the fire's light. The centaur, though, is front and center, already kneeling forward to help himself to a bowlful of stew.
"Next, allow me to introduce our two guides for the journey. This sturdy, four-legged fellow here is Machus. He is from one of the many bands of centaurs who roam the Whistling Plains that we will soon be crossing. As for his companion keeping her respectful distance, her name is Natsagiin. She is a child of the Kara Horsemen, the Great Tribes who rule Karazh in the Grass Sea further to the south.
"They are both intimately familiar with the vast lands that lay ahead of us, so I am sure we will benefit greatly from their experience."
The Viscount again looks across the assembled faces, remaining as alert for questions as for signs of discontent.
As the group filters into the Hobgoblin camp, they can tell that these are all practiced soldiers, as their camp is well organized, likely thanks to the female captain, who is even now giving orders, which are obeyed without grumble or question.
Fendir sits near the fire on a log, thinking.
When the first guest begins to arrive, Fendir wakes from his reverie and begins setting wooden benches around the fire, as well as a ring of stone bowls (likely borrowed from their Dwarven hosts).
Above the fire sits a massive pot, which the other female, who now wears a simple apron instead of her fetishes. She is stirring the contents, and then fills each of the bowls in the ring with the milky liquid from the pot.
In the background, there is the sound of blades at work, which if investigated shows one of the Hobgoblins, sans shirt, fileting a massive side of beef with expert precision.
Once everyone who is coming has joined, each person will be given a bowl with the liquid in it, a metal capped horn, and several rolls of what turn out to be meat wrapped around vegetables and then skewered and heated over the fire.
The Bowl contains a thin but hearty vegetable stew made from milk, and the horn contains a rather well-made honey mead.
After the Viscount's speech, Fendir will stand and make one of his own: "While we do not know each other yet as friends, we have now broken bread with each other, which at the least makes us companions. As some of you may have heard when we arrived, my name is Fendir Tang, and I am the chieftain of this tribe. In order to make a better life for my tribe, we have arranged to join the Viscount's expedition in exchange for our tribe to have a place to belong to. It is my hope that we learn to set aside our ingrained racial beliefs about each other and learn to work as one for the betterment of all."
With that, he wishes everyone a good evening and then retires to his tent, which is the largest from among the tents arrayed here.
Dorick accepts the food and drink that is offered.
Content that Caragus is stabled properly in the keep, Dorick gets down to enjoying the meal.
"Fendir, my thanks to you and yours for this food and drink. I will not lie, I have fought hobgoblins in the past in the defense of Taldor. As I have fought against many others. If you seek to make a honest life for yourselves, I have no quarrel with you and would work with you in the defense of this expedition."