Lena listened as the Viscount introduced his people by name and talents. With her attention fixed on Natsagiin, Lena pondered if she had heard of the reputation/legends of the Kara Horsemen.
After the introductions were completed, Lena accepted the meal and drink provided by the hobgoblins. She ate the food and made polite small talk among the other adventurers.
After a little time had passed, Lena put her bowl down on the ground by her feet and stood up, smoothing her skirt. Smiling at the assembled group, she spoke, "For those who do not know my name, I am Lena. If our kind hosts will grant permission, I would like to sing. An old song my mother taught me as a child."
Lena waited for assent and then lifted her sweet voice to song,
In the woodlands low, born of ice and snow,
there's a maiden weeping tonight.
Snow falls softly 'neath the winter moon
Forest bare and white, she dwells there by night
Listen to her cry sorrow's song.
Snow falls softly 'neath the winter moon
Breathless, icy, bright. Daughter of the night.
Oh, who do you cry for?
Keening softly 'neath the winter moon
Traveller passing through, feet all bare , his smile was true
His eyes shone with starlight
he waked softly 'neath the winter moon
Love made my heart soar, you're the one I've waited for
Stay with me forever
she cried softly 'neath the winter moon
In the snow he stayed, from my side he did not stray
My hands could not warm him
He died softly 'neath the winter moon
In the woodlands low, born of ice and snow,
there's a maiden weeping tonight.
Snow falls softly 'neath the winter moon
Breathless, icy, bright. Daughter of the night.
Oh, who do you cry for?
Keening softly 'neath the winter moon.
Mia remains quiet, she eats the food and surprisingly enjoys it. though looks wide-eyed at the centaur for a few seconds. Teriel however, was quite obvious in her awe of the creature. Good, we will have help in guiding everyone. That should make it much easier.
When Lena started singing Mia listened intently. When she finished she would actually applaud. [b] That was exceptionally beautiful, I've always thought I had a nice voice, but your's has no equal that I've heard. When she finishes she blushes slightly
I-I mean, I'd love to hear you sing more... she looks down at the floor as she asks.
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From time to time during the meal, Soraya's owl flits off and comes back with a mouse or vole in his talons. He finishes them off with a single slurp. He ought to be a big help with protecting the grain, she thinks.
It's been a while since Soraya has had a community meal. And the hobgoblin fare is surprisingly good. She makes sure to compliment the chefs. Finishing off with a song?! That's just bonus.
With a full stomach and a lightened heart, she stretches out and listens to the bard sing.
Kalig eats like it's her last meal--not rudely, but with zest and as much as she can take that is a fair share. She chats with anyone near her, but otherwise sits in an observational mode, taking in the others' songs and stories.
However, you suspect that the scar etched upon Natsagiin’s cheek may be a brand, marking her as some sort of criminal or exile from her people.
...
The centaur takes a break from slurping up soup to fish a rolled up parchment from one of the hefty belt pouches slung around his humanoid waist.
Untying the string, he unfurls what turns out to be an old, rough map of western Casmaron and the eastern edge of Avistan.
”Natsa' got this map off some Vudran caravaneers passing along the Golden Path,” Machus explains. He then waves to Aristide. “Our host has marked our starting point and circled our destination. We’ll follow the river’s course to the sea and find a suitable settlement site. Of course, I would recommend keeping north of the river. To the south are the dry steppes and desert that lead into the Windswept Wastes.”
Aristide winces as the centaur mentions such a bitter place.
”The Viscount has also told me a bit about this name written on the map, ‘Kaskarri.’ Some kind of old, fallen kingdom, yes? Their ruined city probably lies at the river’s mouth. A dangerous place, yes?”
The centaur smiles as he watches Aristide squirm with each unpleasant detail shared.
As you all sit down and eat, you notice a young woman towards the back of all the others. She sits quietly, eating her meal. You notice her taking breaks every now and then, appearing to feed bits of bread and meat to a small cat nustled at her feet.
She seems to be pairing as well. She only has a single color though, black. She stands up after eating her fair share, giving most of it to her feline friend. She stands up, and walks forward to the woman with the angelic voice, Lena.
As the newcomer speaks, her kitten weaves around Lena’s feet, purring and meowing for affection like most kittens do.
You have a beautiful voice. Thank you for singing, as well as helping to our eventual destination. Here, I hope you like it she than turns around, and heads back
She hands over a rolled up piece of parchment. You unfurl it to see her version of you
At the end of her song, Lena smiled and inclined her head to her small audience.
That was exceptionally beautiful, I've always thought I had a nice voice, but your's has no equal that I've heard. When she finishes she blushes slightly. I-I mean, I'd love to hear you sing more... she looks down at the floor as she asks.
Smiling warmly, Lena gently responded to the shy female, "You are most kind. Mia, isn't it? I look forward to hearing you sing one day soon. I hope to be able to sing during the evenings we rest on our long journey."
As the newcomer speaks, her kitten weaves around Lena’s feet, purring and meowing for affection like most kittens do.
You have a beautiful voice. Thank you for singing, as well as helping to our eventual destination. Here, I hope you like it she than turns around, and heads back. She hands over a rolled up piece of parchment.
Lena bent down a little to playfully scratch the kitten on the ear and face. "You're a beauty," she said quietly to the affectionate feline.
Straightening and looking at the young woman before her, Lena graciously accepted both the praise and the boon. "Thank you for enjoying my singing and for your gift. What is your name and that of this sweet kitten?"
-----------
"The Viscount has also told me a bit about this name written on the map, ‘Kaskarri.’ Some kind of old, fallen kingdom, yes? Their ruined city probably lies at the river’s mouth. A dangerous place, yes?”
Having taken her place on the ground beside the others, she listened to the centaur and pondered what she knew, if anything, of the old kingdom of Kaskarri.
Seraphina looks down as Lena rubs her kitten’s purring little head. The words come out, quietly and meek.
My name...is Seraphina. My kitten’s name..is Bailey Rae
Kalig tries to remember if she's heard anything about Kaskarri.
Seraphina looks down as Lena rubs her kitten’s purring little head. The words come out, quietly and meek.
My name...is Seraphina. My kitten’s name..is Bailey Rae
"It is a pleasure to meet you both. Thank you again for the gift." Lena gave them a soft smile before returning to the general discussion. She held the rolled parchment carefully before finding a safe place for it inside her fine pack. She would open it later, before she retired to sleep.
"The Viscount has also told me a bit about this name written on the map, ‘Kaskarri.’ Some kind of old, fallen kingdom, yes? Their ruined city probably lies at the river’s mouth. A dangerous place, yes?”
Quietly, Lena added, "I know a little of the ancient nation of Kaskarri. The city-state sat upon the western shore of the Castrovin Sea during the Age of Destiny. Those historians who enjoy esoteric debates have discussed whether Kaskarri was a rival or vassal of its neighbour, Ninshabur. There seems to be uncertainty around the downfall of Kaskarri - whether it was conquered by Ninshabur or wiped away when the infamous Tarraque was released from the Pit of Gormuz. It was said that Tarrasque's fabled swath of destruction razed even Ninshabur’s fortress cities."
Dorick racks his brain for knowledge of this Kaskarii - or its rulers.
Soraya leans her head in a bit to hear some of the others talking about the history of the land on the map. She doesn't recall hearing anything about it, but history was never really her subject.
Universities and groups like the Pathfinder Society have studied Kaskkari very little, owing to the remoteness of the ruins, the priority given to other old empires such as Thassilon and Osirion, and the fact that the Kaskkari language remains undeciphered.
The few recovered artifacts in collections and museums include copper jewelry, elaborate clay vessels flecked with mica, and bas reliefs of archers and winged beasts.
The ancient nation's architecture is believed to be similar to the walls, terraces, and ziggurat of Ninshabur.
However, you are vaguely aware of the only Kaskkari ruler of note: an unnamed despot whose symbol was the winged lion with the face of a bearded man.
"With how little is known about the ruins of Kaskkari," Aristide says through grit teeth, glowering at Machus, "It is hard to say how dangerous it may be. The Castrovin coast is long, and I am certain we will find many safe places to stake our claim."
The Viscount sighs and releases his pent-up tension.
"Nevertheless, having such a site of antiquity nearby could make our settlement an attractive destination for scholars and adventurers, further ensuring our future prosperity."
He turns to Lena and speaks politely with a fatherly smile.
"There is hardly need to worry about the Pit of Gormuz or such terrible beasts of legend," he says with a laugh and wave of his hand. "We will be quite far from such a place. I dare say that we were much closer to the Worldwound back in Galt than we will be to the Pit in our new home."
"I met a scholar who studied Kaskkari a little, and said much the same Lena did. He had a collection of some items he said were Kaskkari--just little things, pottery, jewelry. A lot of them had themes of archers and winged beasts. I expect the former was how they dealt with the latter. It's been who knows how long, but if we get close to the ruins, we might look to the skies just in case."
She sighs. "Depending on what state the ruins are in, they could serve as a foundation for a new city--or be so wrecked it'd be best to move elsewhere anyway. None of us signed up for this thinking it'd be easy--or that there were a lot of known quantities. We'll just have to stay alert and take it as it comes."
"If I were to be daunted by a little danger, I could have stayed in my family estate and idled my days away in safety. I am more than willing to face these ruins and any hostile forces within. Good Lena here has shared more about the kingdom than I know, but I do recall one Kaskkari ruler. Outstanding for the wrong reasons, a despot whose heraldry was a winged lion with a bearded face."
He turns to Lena and speaks politely with a fatherly smile.
"There is hardly need to worry about the Pit of Gormuz or such terrible beasts of legend," he says with a laugh and wave of his hand. "We will be quite far from such a place. I dare say that we were much closer to the Worldwound back in Galt than we will be to the Pit in our new home."
Lena listened as some of her companions shared their knowledge of Kaskarri and she nodded along to their words.
When the Viscount attempted to reassure her and smiled like her father often did, Lena smiled back and inclined her head. "We have seasoned scouts and I have faith they will lead the caravan well."
"Nevertheless, having such a site of antiquity nearby could make our settlement an attractive destination for scholars and adventurers, further ensuring our future prosperity."
"When we arrive at the ruins we can assess their viability and degree of danger. We are fortunate to have many and varied skills among the folk of the caravan."
Should I bring up the ley-lines? Oh.. I don't know. I think... I'll wait. No need to worry anyone about it now. Though, I may speak to Kalig. She may be able to help...
Mia quietly taps Kalig's shoulder and slowly asks her to come off the side. If she does Mia softly says.
um.. about these ruins, well, I um, know that many of the magical ley lines gather near the area Count Aristide wishs to found hi-, our new town Their is very likely a chance that these ruins, or something in them, could be a Menhir of sorts. I didn't want to say anything to the others yet, as I don't really know. It, uh, oh, well, its just speculation. But, you at least know some of the natural world, I wanted to um well, if it isn't too much of a bother, ask your thoughts about it? If, If the ruins do prove it be a menhir, or I mean, that is, something in them. Um, it may be best to uh, not set roots directly there...
she quickly breaks eye contact and looks to the ground. Teriel, is sitting nearby, with a smile and a blank expression on her face. She doesn't like talk of danger.
Ask the group talks and socializes, the two female leaders of the Tang tribe walk around, refilling people's plates and replacing horns of honey mead as desired. If they are spoken to, it quickly becomes apparent that they don't speak Common. They do their best to insure that everyone is well fed and taken care of though.
Realising this, Dorick will turn to Fendir.
"Fendir, what language or languages do your people speak? I know Kelish along with the Taldan tongue, though I am sure we have some linguists here. It makes to work out whom can understand what for planning and on the battlefield. And please, my thanks to you and yours for the food, drink and hospitality. It has been too long since I got to sit down and enjoy a meal with so many."
Kalig responds to Mia quietly.
Realising this, Dorick will turn to Fendir.
"Fendir, what language or languages do your people speak? I know Kelish along with the Taldan tongue, though I am sure we have some linguists here. It makes to work out whom can understand what for planning and on the battlefield. And please, my thanks to you and yours for the food, drink and hospitality. It has been too long since I got to sit down and enjoy a meal with so many."
As Lena accepted a little more of the food and thanked her hosts, she awaited Fendir's answer before quietly and politely adding, "Apart from the Common tongue, I also currently speak Hallit, Sylvan, Halfling and Kelish. I can teach those of your people who would like to learn the Common tongue at the very least."
Aristide watches as the two guides leave the gathering without a word, withdrawing down the stairs back into the dwarf hold.
"Machus and Natsagiin are unusual," the Viscount admits once they are out of earshot, "But their experience is invaluable. The centaur tribes have lived in the Whistling Plains for centuries, and Machus may be our best chance to convince them we will be good neighbors. As for Natsagiin, I have seen few people as comfortable in the saddle under the wide open sky as she.
"Strangely, though, she refused when I offered to outfit her with a fine horse. As bizarre as it may seem, she actually uses Machus as a steed. I can't say I've ever heard of a centaur allowing a person to ride them, but as I said, I will not begrudge them their eccentricities."
Aristide leans back and offers a tired but contented sigh.
"However, I will say that they have the right idea: getting some rest will be paramount. Tomorrow is a big day."
He turns to the dwarf wizardess seated beside him.
"My dear Lady Brightshield, your hospitality has been peerless as always, but I hope you won't take offense when I hope that we can put as much distance between us and these mountains as possible in our first day's worth of travel."
The older dwarf woman shakes her head with a demurred smile.
"Worry not. You could tug on my brother's beard for luck, and we wouldn't take offense," she replies kindly, quietly.
With a laughing smile of his own, Aristide slaps his palms on his abbreviated thighs.
"Well then, I bid thee all good night, and I hope that we are all blessed by a pleasant, peaceful rest to ready us for the first leg of our journey."
Kalig nods in thanks to the hobgoblins, takes a last swig of mead, and bids good night to those she has spoken to. She finds a cozy corner to curl up in (having stabled Matilda earlier).
She wakes up just before dawn and prays to the four seasons, preparing her spells for the day.
The underground environment is unlikely suitable, but if it is easy to get to the surface, she will scavenge for a few berries to turn into goodberries.
If she finds any, she creates berries.
Any other time she has is devoted to training Matilda, but if the caravan is preparing to leave she will adapt as needed.
Soraya is still a bit excited about the move, and a little nervous about it. But she finally falls asleep. Waking in the morning, she communes with her owl for a while before making sure that she has everything set to go.
Valentina quietly tells Mabel a story from her own childhood, and then the pair bed down, ready for the travel the next day.
Having finished her meal and hearing the Viscount declare he was retiring, Lena picked up her plate, utensils and mug and handed them over to one of the hobgoblin females who had served them earlier, with a polite "Thank you." She bid those who were still up a "Good night" and then made her way back down the cliff to the designated sleeping area.
Finding a safe and warm place, close to some of the others, Lena pulled out her journal and charcoal stick and wrote down a few bits of information discussed over dinner before stowing the items away, laying down and drifting off to sleep. We have a long journey ahead of us. May the gods protect us.
The morning finds Stoneriver more akin to a hive of bees than a dwarf hold, as it thrums and buzzes with activity.
Your fellow settlers rise from their cots and stone beds to rejoin their wagons and finish loading the last of their possessions.
Grooms and drivers hired by the Viscount tend to the draft animals as the herders keep their sheep and goats more in line.
And of course, the dwarven merchants and artisans make their final sales pitches before this crop of customers rolls out for good.
You spot Viscount Aristide, sitting astride one of the lead wagons, sharing hearty laughs with an older dwarf whose ruddy beard is quickly turning to gray.
However, their jocularity comes to a halt as the caravan master marches up to the Viscount and begins arguing with him - pointing accusingly at Fendir's kin.
The Hobgoblins are up several hours before dawn, breaking down their camp in a quiet and efficient manner, each member of the tribe carrying out a set of assigned tasks as quickly as possible.
By the time the group is up for breakfast, the Hobgoblins have already taken up assigned guard positions surrounding the caravan.
Fendir himself walked one side of the caravan while the female who appeared to be an officer walked the other, pausing here and there to make a quick comment or spot adjustment. They then stand in their assigned positions and wait for further orders.
Fendir is making the rounds to the other side when he sees the Dwarf start marching towards the Viscount. curious, he moves around to take a look. When he sees that the Dwarf is pointing at his kin, Fendir will walk over and say "Good morning Sir. Is there a problem here?"
Valentina is also up early, saddling the horse, preparing provisions and making sure everything is ready before Mabel wakes up. She makes sure to go out and get some hot dwarven street food for the little girl's breakfast (eating only a little bit herself) before waking her sister and telling her to eat and get dressed.
Seeing the disturbance, Valentina heads over to the argument, the Viscount, and the hobgoblin leader to see if she could learn something or do something. Maybe the hobgoblins had done something wrong already, but damned if Valentina wasn't going to make sure. "What's up?" she says, cavalierly.
Lucius likes to sleep during the morning hours so Soraya sets up a perch for him while she gets everything together. She's glad he's able to sleep with the noise of everyone milling about. She's not sure how much rest he'll get once they start moving. Fortunately, the dwarves are happy to provide some material for making him a little nest.
As she's checking the last of her materials, she hears some sort of commotion over near the viscount. She moves a little closer in to hear what's going on. After all, if someone is hurt, she wants to know about it as soon as possible.
Sir Dorick is up early. Caragus needs grooming and feeding, and his own armour needs checking over. A hearty breakfast is in order for both of them.
The bustle of the dwarven hold is comforting in a way. It reminds him of home. In the better times.
Shaking off his reverie, Dorick sees Fendir and begins to move over. He didn't get to speak with him the previous night and the matter of coordinating forces needs to be worked on.
Then he notices the dispute and moves in.
"What appears to be the problem, good sirs?"
Quietly he and his wife readied themselves to go, although much like the others the hub bub near the leader of the expedition had him curious, especially since it seemed to be about the hobgoblins whom he still wasnt sure could be trusted. He edge closer mostly to overhear what was going on...
Since Lena had suggested traveling together, Kalig seeks her out to walk aside as the trek begins. She raises an eyebrow at the potential argument between Aristide and the caravan master.
"This early? Not a good sign," she mutters.
The caravan master - a thickly mustachioed human man wearing a richly appointed robe of white and gold, paired with long white gloves - only grows in ire as he catches sight of Fendir, and even Kalig.
"The problem is that I've lost enough in this life to the likes of gobbos and orc-kin," he sneers. "It was a raid on my last caravan by your kind that left me ruined and exiled from the Kalistocracy. I was not consulted on this matter, and I'll not see a single wagon move forward until they are sent away."
The Viscount groans and grimaces, rubbing his forehead in frustration for a moment - giving the party an opportunity to speak up first.
Sitting west of Kyonin, Druma is governed by the Prophecies of Kalistrade, an insular and almost cult-like religion based upon a series of dream records. Followers adhere to a number of lifestyle and dietary restrictions, and they believe that wealth is a divinely guided reward while poverty is a sign that someone has transgressed.
However, you notice that he wears an Abadaran amulet, which would normally be in conflict with a Kalistocrat.
Dorick steps up to a respectful distance from the caravan master. And attempts to appeal to him.
"Sir, if you can tell me with no doubt that these are the individuals responsible for your woes, then you would have just cause angry with them. But if they are not, they are signed up to leave with our expedition. All you are accomplishing by argument is delaying us, and thus keeping them here in the hold even longer. Now, would it not make more sense to wave us all on, them included?"
"My kind?" asks Fendir as if he didn't understand the words that were being used. "I'm not sure what you mean."
Valentina inwardly (but not outwardly) rolls her eyes at the caravan master's grandstanding. He had to wait until moments before departure for this grandstanding? Was there some reason he didn't know already that there would be hobgoblins along for the journey? Maybe Aristide hadn't told everyone, which showed a really severe lapse in judgment, in Valentina's opinion.
"Please, listen," she says to the caravan master. "I don't like these hobgoblins any more than you do, but Aristide has given his voucher, and they haven't actually done anything wrong yet." She points back vaguely towards the camp. "I have a young sister. We're trying to reach safety, far from Galt, as fast as possible. Right now, you're in the way of that much more than these grayskins. Please... Can you just let it go for now, so that we can set off?"
Soraya groaned softly. What a racist jerk! I've seen far more examples of man's inhumanity toward man than orcs or goblins.
"Sounds more like this guy didn't plan ahead," she says to Kalig, a little louder than strictly necessary. "If you're going into a rough area, you bring guards. He was probably too busy trying to save money and went with cheap guards. I notice HE got away so it can't have been too savage. He should be thankful for what he has."
I simply cannot abide small-minded men. He probably sold his wares and blamed orcs to try and get reimbursed.
Lena was beside Kalig when the caravan master had approached the Viscount. Upon Kalig's remark, Lena looked around the group and quietly responded, "It does not bode well."
Lena's eyes took in the moustached caravan master but could not place his native home.
Beside Kalig, Soraya spoke quite openly and it seemed the witch did not think much of the man.
Hoping to provide some calm to the situation, Lena addressed the caravan master in a steady and gentle voice,
"Sir," referencing the man, "We have all united to leave persecution and prejudice behind and to build a better place. The Viscount and his people have vetted the hobgoblin tribe and deemed them suitable guard for this passage and the settlement we will build. Please, time is of the essence, and it would do us all good to leave past grievances behind and make start, for our journey is long. Come, sir, give order for the wagons to set forth and look to the future." She smiled kindly upon the angry caravan master, hoping to impress upon him some understanding and motivation to find his peace.
He frowned and paused whispering quietly to his wife to stay with the cart. He moved closer to the confrontation clearly letting those with silver tongues work their magic. If that failed he had a ...pointed observation to make to the man... and for once in his life it wasnt actually a violent one.
The caravan master turns to each person addressing him, and with each of their appeals, his sneer turns to more of a pout.
"Very well," he grumbles, defeated. He marches off to the forefront of the wagon train, using the pretense of tending to his draft horses to disguise his shame.
...
"You have both my apologies and my thanks," Aristide says once the other man is away. "Contrary to his hollow claims, I had quite clearly explained to Harcourb that ours would be a diverse group. Likewise, I made it clear to him that all he has here - his position, his wagon, his animals - is at my behest, and his whims will not stay our path."
Aristide sighs heavily.
"I think he was merely trying to extort me with his bluster, seeking a bit of coin or more authority. Abandoned though he may be by the Kalistocracy, he still follows their ways - exploiting agreements, jockeying to outwit superiors in a quest for wealth as a symbol of validation. He knows how to manage a caravan, but every other aspect of his character grates upon me."
The Viscount sets his shoulders back and tries to restore his noble bearing to better inspire confidence.
"Now that such unpleasantness is passed, allow me to introduce my dear, esteemed friend, Ulfgar Brightshield. He is a high father in service to the dwarf goddess Bolka, and the spiritual leader of Stoneriver. I was just cautioning him that when he offers a benediction for our departure, he should avoid making it too bawdy."
Aristide waggles a jokingly accusing finger to the dwarf standing beside his seat on the wagon.
Valentina looks upon the wizened dwarf, having mostly mentally skimmed through what Aristide had said. His fancy words held about half as much meaning as the time he spent saying them, as far as she was concerned. She bows her head briefly to the high priest. "Bolka? Tell me about your god, if you would. I didn't study dwarven religions in school, and would be happy to hear about yours."
Dorick is pleased that the incident is resolved swiftly, though he has lingering doubts about the caravan master.
"My greetings to you, Ulfgar Brightshield."
It was good when the caravan master saw reason (well enough not to cause more trouble at present) and moved off to make his final preparations.
Upon introduction to the priest, Lena inclined her head respectfully and spoke in pleasant voice, "Good morning, Father Brightshield. It is a pleasure to meet you."
She tried to recollect if she had heard or read of the goddess, Bolka, but nothing came to mind. Since Valentina had asked after the goddess, Lena listened quietly to hear what the Priest had to say.
"I dont mean to intercede... but does our caravan master have a second in command? Perhaps on the trip i can learn a few things about it, saving our foray from having to well hire him again. It would be easier to ask someone not him of course for pointers... Sir... Lord, uh.. boss."
He began bowing quickly and clearly nervously. Despite his years working for The Lord and Lady Morgayne, he had never really spoken with or dealt with them, so he wasnt entirely sure how to act. He glanced torwards the caravan master with a slight glare for just a moment more as he awaited a response.
Relieved that the situation was resolved, Fendir said "Thank you both for your assistance." to Valentina and Lena. "I am glad we were able to resolve that without violence."
Oh... thank goodness.It seems the argument was settled fairly civilly. Though, I guess I can't really blame him for his feelings, but they threw such a nice party last night... I don't think they mean harm. Hopefully we can avoid further situations like this, however.... I find that may be difficult.
Mia will just quietly stand in the background, looking to the ground during the argument. She will rummage around through her herbs and poultices. She grabs several odd looking plants, some spirits, a few nuts, and some other strange looking berries, she grinds down several of the items before mixing it into several thick, pasty liquids before pouring them into phials. She seems to forget herself as she works, she even starts humming.