Mendev’s Pathfinder lodge in the capital city of Nerosyan is housed within Starrise Spire, a defensive tower in the outer wall whose pinnacle glows with celestial light that shines out like a beacon, simultaneously giving comfort to Nerosyan’s defenders and acting as a warning to any who might wish the city harm.
Venture-Captain Jorsal of Lauterbury calls a short meeting on a covered balcony overlooking the city. A middle-aged Mwangi man with greying hair, he closes the door to the spire’s interior and takes a seat in one of the set-up camp chairs, gesturing for his guests to do the same.
“We Pathfinders of Mendev,” he states, making a sweeping hand gesture that encompasses everyone present, “have our own agendas, but these must sometimes give way to the greater need: the protection of this land and its people from the horrors that dwell in the Worldwound.
“We are here by the grace of her majesty, Queen Galfrey of Mendev. Without her support, we would surely be run out of town by Hulrun’s more fervent followers. Our agreement with her states that all Pathfinders are required to volunteer some of their time in the defense of the realm. As relative newcomers, I’ve recommended you to take part in a minor military mission under the command of a veteran crusader named Sir Ilivan of Erages. Although he is not a Pathfinder, you would be wise to follow his advice, as he has been fighting the Abyssal spawn longer than some of you have been alive. I expect you will give him the respect he deserves.” Venture-Captain Jorsal stands and opens the heavy wooden door leading back into the lodge, revealing a tall half-elven man clad in heavy plate armor, wearing a red tabard typical of the Mendevian Crusaders, and carrying a cavalry helmet in his left hand. He gives a professional nod to Jorsal before striding to the front of the group, surveying everyone with poorly disguised disappointment.
“Pathfinders,” he barks in quick staccato without further preamble, “our mission is simple. The recent attacks on the wardstones have compromised our defenses, and the enemy presses its advantage. We have received word of attacks on Fort Portolmaeus to the north, but the crusader leadership suspects that other parts of the line may have been breached as well. We will proceed to Fort Portolmaeus tomorrow morning on horseback to assess the damage, using the passphrase ‘That the Black Prince might be redeemed’ to permit us entry. On the way there, we will scout for enemy movements and other signs of demon activity. Once we have completed our assessment, we are to return to Nerosyan and you will be relieved of your obligations to the Crown. Do you have any questions?”
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"I am being so happy to be able to be serving in slaying of demons," Xûll says with a smile, "Are you to be accompanying us, Sir-Ilisen-Of-Erages? Is there being anyone else to be coming along? I am having of cold iron and silver to be fighting demons and devils alike. Should I be carrying other kinds of weapons to be better fighting of such creatures?"
Xûll is positively bristling with excitement at the chance to smash into some true evil for once. Straightforward fighting and little else. Of course, he would have to keep an eye out for trade opportunities, but victorious glory was a far better starting point for negotiations than a cold introduction.
Sir Ilivan glances quickly at Venture-Captain Jorsal, clearly impressed, before answering the large Shoanti.
"Seems you all have a good head on your shoulders, and know how to ask a good question. Since the last major attack, the demonic armies have retreated into the Worldwound’s interior. We will most likely face minor demons sent to test the current efficacy of the wardstones. Expect dretches, brimoraks, and possibly schirs. A cold iron weapon and cold weather outfit are a must, as it drops below freezing at night in this part of Avistan. Also, in their show of appreaciation" he says in a sneer, "The Mendevian Crown grants each of you the use of a light, noncombat trained horse or pony, a saddle, bit and bridle, and saddlebags filled with two days of feed. These animals won't fight for you, but it will make traveling the long distances easier. And should we get hungry, well who hasn't enjoyed a good horse steak now and then?"
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"That the Black Prince might be redeemed..." the youth says, raising one eyebrow. "What does that passphrase mean, for those of us that are backwoods, country bumpkins?"
"And by us, I mean this one," he nods in the direction of the shaggy wolf standing nearby, it's cold, dull grey eyes staring back at him.
The wolf stars coldly, then menacingly snaps its jaws in the direction of the youth. As its teeth close forcibly together, the chilling sight oddly resembles a guillotine coming to rest.
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The young man laughs again before continuing.
"The mission sounds straightforward enough now," Vox says, hoping to break the ice with is with his new companions. His eyes seem to lose focus, lost in apparent recollection of some earlier event. "At least we're not escorting goblins, that is never straightforward... It's like herding a flock of evil, conniving, murderous cats... I'll take the dangers of demons any day over dealing with goblins, day in and day out. At least I got some cold weather gear out of dealing with those little blue rascals, so I'm set there."
"Anyone ever hear of a game called giggle-pokes?" he laughs again, then sighs heavily, a look of restrained horror etching his face as he stares off blankly.
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"I once dreamed of playing giggle-pokes with Madame Masque, but it turned out she was just an illusion cast by some hot wizard woman. Which was kind of cool in its own way, but poking someone who can control your brain is never a good idea." After he shares his lessons learned, Arthrax continues. "So yeah, sounds like good times here in the Worldwound. Let me gather a few things and I'll be set."
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Pooka stands in the room, helm under his arm while Luna curls up on the floor.
"Cold weather and Cold iron. With any luck, the demons we come across will be just as soft as the imp that Xull and I skewered in a little town not far from here. Then again, I'm not very lucky..."
Better to be good than lucky? no... I don't think thats how that goes...
The heavily armored halfling shuffles on his feet. The last time he had seen Xull he was still wearing his banded mail, the set passed down from his father. That set was elegantly displayed back at his farmstead when he answered this latest call, now armored in a majestic set of full plate mail. The light from the window flashes a brilliant reflection, scattering it around the room whenever the halfling moved back and forth on his feet.
"Good to see you again Xull, it will be nice to feel the rush of the charge, and crumple a few demons underfoot. Hopefully if we meet any inquisitors, they won't have any voices in their head whispering in their ear, no?"
Pooka chuckles as he takes a step over to shake the large man's hand.
"I recognize Sun again, my ever present druidic friend. How are you? I have heard you have been hobnobbing with the merchants lately."
"To those I haven't met, I am Pooka Bladespinner, at your service. This is Luna, my esteemed mount. We may be small in stature, but I daresay we rival most full sized men and their horses when we are in a full charge."
Turning back to the captain, "So we are taking this trip to asses the fort, and smack a few demon heads along the way. What happens if we find the fort beset?"
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At the sound of the large Shoanti's voice, Luna's ears perk up. She stands up, her barding making the tiny tinkling noise of metal chains clinking together, and trots over to Xull. She doesn't wait for him to reach out and pet her, simply placing her face in the palm of his hand while her body leans against his legs.
After a few moments, she trots over to Sun, the other familiar face in the group. Repeating the pattern, she initiates her own contact.
Once again, only after a few moments, she moves away again, though this time more cautiously. It is now that she notices the wolf on the other side of the room. Approaching slowly, she moves to the side slightly in order to circle around the wolf, waiting for her to respond in kind.
The two animals circle once, twice, getting closer each time until a sniff here, and a sniff there, they have gotten past the introduction.
After a pause, "Ruff!" Luna lets out a sudden and loud bark, front shoulders dropping towards the ground and tail wagging high in the air. She playfully hops a few times towards the wolf, waiting to see if she will play with her.
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"Well met Pooka. And uh...Luna." He gives a half-hearted wave to the dog, feeling a bit of a fool. Still, his father had taught him to always mind his manners, and Pooka had introduced Luna as a companion.
Arthrax gives his new cold iron axe a pat, getting his cold-weather gear on. "I'm ready whenever you folks are. If my prior dealings are any indication, it should be a lot of fun!"
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The feel of fur next to Sun jolts him out of his thoughts, standing like a fool with a glazed over look in his eyes as he thinks about demons and how giggle-poke works eventually leading him down the path of a demon consisting entirely of fingers to poke foes nearby. Ruffling the fur of Luna, he smiles and comes back to attention. "Pooka my short friend, it is good to see you again. Though if you could turn down the intense shine of your armor that would be great. Only one sun in the sky is quite enough I think." Sun jests with a smile toward the halfling."Not much hobnobbing on my part, though I did see Metella and his royal arrogance again. No love lost between those two still. And Xull, I see you are as muscly as ever somehow by drinking nothing but milk and your spring water. Good to see you my friend."
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"Holy-Druid-Sun-Desin!" exclaims Xûll, trying hard not to crush the druid's ribs as he embraces him, "It is good to be seeing of you! It is seeming that Qadira is to be agreeing with you. Me is to be liking new tan. And do not be worrying: Pompous-Git-Temel-Passad is ever being too stucked ups for his own goods. It is being bests that Metalla is to be arms providing for Society. Quality is beating of quantity always."
Xûll pours a bowl of some kind of white liquid for Luna, scratching her behind the ear. "Do not be worrying, Friend-Pooka," he reassures the halfling, "It is being donkey's milk. Donkey's milk is never going offs - leastways no one is to be telling when it is turning! It is tasting baddest when is freshest! Ha!"
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Xûll wakes up with one hell of a hangover. Wait, what?
"Ugh. Me is to be needing to be getting names of people who were to be serving of donkey's milk," Xûll says groggily, "Me is seeming to have been losing of months of memories. It must have been lacing with somethings."
Damn donkey's milk. Never can taste anything else when that's in the mix.
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"No Luna, enough fetch for now. Good dog" The halfling scratches his silver-haired dog behind the ears and tosses her a treat.
"Well I suppose it is off to Fort Portolmaeus then? I've got good news for all of you as well. In the time while we were getting ready to leave here, I've come into ownership of a wagon. Between the wagon and the generous use of draft horses, this should be a relatively easy trip. What could be better right? Traveling in ease and comfort, and then the privledge of smashing some demons on the way and when we arrive. If only all of our crusaders had such comforts." Pooka finishes with a smile.
"Young lady, Please attend to my companions gear. Load up the wagon and prepare the team. We are leaving soon." At the request, a lightly armored, young-ish halfling female walks briskly into the room, gathering up gear and bags, and taking them away. Just before she leaves the room Pooka mentions, "This is Selah, my new squire. She aspires to the Order of the Paw. For the record, she is my squire and servant, not a slave. Selah is here of her own volition, just as I was when I was young. Thank you Selah." Pooka says, finishing his statement by dismissing the squire.
With a curt nod, the young halfling lady continues out the door, laden with gear.
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"And here I was thinking if you'd ever get back to your senses!" laughs a tall, burly man with a beard that would put any dwarf to shame. His face shines, showing an ever-long smile. Despite his stature, the man looks agile and sports a mere chain shirt, and a weird weapon of chains and weights, "don't know how long you've been out, might seem months, he! Delzden's the name, from a quaint small town of Roudenbrash. Look it up, best apple pies in all of Avistan, he!"
Delzden proceeds to take a round around the room to shake hands with everyone, formally introducing himself. In his wake, however, a strong scent of sweat follows. "I read about that mission description, looks like the Ten made us conscripts, he! No matter, we pathfinders pride on our combat prowess, unbeatable as we are, he! So a walk in the Worldwound will be but a walk in the park! Which is good, we've got dogs, he!"
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"Greetings, Delzen-of-Quaint-Small-Town-of-Roudenbrash, it is being of pleasures to be meeting you," says the tattooed, heavily muscled Shoanti as he picks himself up from the floor, "Me is being called by the name of Xûll. You should to be avoiding of the donkey's milk. Me is thinking that it is having somethings else in it."
Xûll wrinkles his nose up as Delzden walks past. He is no longer used to those who don't bathe, having left his tribal home some time ago... and his family always washed and perfumed themselves for their foreign dealings anyway. Scratching Luna behind the ears, Xûll rights his seat and sets himself down upon it.
"So, we are to be needing of demon-fighting weapons, yes?" Xûll asks, mostly rhetorically as he pours a glass of cool, clear spring water from his skin, "I am having of effective hammer, but I am to be needing to be picking ups with better arrows. Also, perhaps we should be getting of potions to be resisting of flames. I am hearing that demons are to be favoring of such hot attackings."
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"Luna, Hup! You know nobody likes a cold nose in the crotch."
When the dog trots back over and flops down on the floor, Pooka looks up. "My apologies Delzden. Pleasure to make your acquaintence. Pooka Bladespinner. My loyal mount, Luna, has already introduced herself. Heh... Dogs. At least she didn't try to roll in the smell, eh?" the heavily armored halfling gives an uncomfortable chuckle.
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"Huh?" Delzden wonders, momentarily lifting his arm to sniff his armpit. After exhaling in a disgusted manner, he chuckles. "I do apologize for the smell, he! Working out early in the morning, well, tends to get sweaty! Don't worry though, on a long trip no one's going to be a sweet flower!"
Delzden's real friendly with Luna, giving out a hearty laugh as she tries to get acquainted. "Ha! Easy there! I know we all wanna be friends together, we sure do, he!"
"I haven't had the opportunity to study demons and other extraplanar beings, so I can't say I know much about them. But sure, cold iron weapons are a good start, he! I'm going to get myself one of these awesome weapons in just that, Delzden continues, patting his weird weapon, "and probably those arrows, too! I'm sure they are pretty plentiful in these parts with roaming demons and such, he! Oh, and good to meet you too, Xûll and Pooka!"
Although not evident, Delzden slightly cringes when Xûll speaks; his broken common tongue with arbitrary linguistic errors are painful for the scholastic Delzden of Roudenbrash.
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Knowledge (History, Local, or Religion)
PCs may have prior knowledge of the Mendevian Crusades.
ago when a rift to the Abyss opened in the barbarian
kingdom of Sarkoris. The church of the goddess Iomedae
called the First Crusade, and it was largely a success.
power first built during the Second Crusade. They
project a powerful field capable of destroying all
but the most powerful demons. Built near the
banks of the West Sellen and Moutray Rivers,
they stopped the expansion of the Worldwound
until very recently.
with a large attack on Nerosyan. No doubt the
demons are at least indirectly responsible.
25+ Even though the demons of the
Worldwound have no central leadership,
their most powerful current
warlords are the balor
Khorramzadeh of Iz,
also known as the Storm
King, and the marilith
Aponavicius, who controls
the former crusader city of
Drezen far to the north.
Diplomacy (Gather Information) or Knowledge (Local)
Even though Sir Ilivan is not a high-ranking officer, the
PCs may have heard of him.
Encarthan before joining the Mendevian Crusades, a fact
he is not ashamed to admit.
become an officer and was knighted by Queen Galfrey.
of Erages in Kyonin, where he had to endure prejudice
and segregation throughout his youth. He later joined
Kyonin’s military, but ultimately left his homeland
after being discharged from this military for striking
an elven officer.
the past few years due to the horrors endured by all
soldiers who fight in the Mendevian Crusades. His most devastating experience involved killing a number of
fellow soldiers while he was demonically possessed.
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"Knighted by the Queen herself, it is a pleasure to meet a man of your stature, sir. I come from a long line of smugglers myself, though chances are we smuggled different things." Pooka says with a smile.
"nonetheless, I feel a rebel's kindred spirit with you, and I can appreciate the effort it takes to rise so high from such a humble beginning. Tell me, should we expect a few nights camping away from the fort on the way there? The wagon should help immensely if we want to bring tents."
-Posted with Wayfinder
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"Dawdling's not my suite, so no worries, he! I'll get my gear done all proper in no time!" answers the happy man.
Thanks to his odor, Delzden is unable to gather any information regarding Sir Ilivan of Erages.
"So, Sir Ilivan of Erages, is the journey to Fort Portolmaeus going to take more time than the two days we've got feed for horses? Just trying to properly adjust to the situation, he!"
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Prior to their current situation, Xûll was entertaining some bystanders with his tale of how he had the strongest sense of déjà vu when traveling near the Worldwound. He regaled them with the quite obviously possessed by an imp inquisitor who had been convinced it was her god. In return, someone who knew a bit about such things told Xûll about a knight of the Mendevian Crusade. His name was...
... Sir Kevin the Insignificant. Xûll listens to the tale, and later moans about how he used to have better luck back when he faced off against the inquisitor.
"Well, me is having no more questions than are having been asked," Xûll admits, "Perhaps we should be getting to weapons-smith, yes? He is surely to be having of many things we are to be needing. Oh, and also to haberdasher and then to be hunting of wolves to be making of cold weather furs. Or is it being possible to be buying of such items already made?"
Sir Ilivan turns towards Delzden and the other assembled Pathfinders. "At least they didn't send us some green recruits that will shit their pants at the first sign of trouble. You boys look like you can handle yourself if this get rough out there, but shouldn't be too much of a problem. We will make it to the Fort in less than a day. You can always gather more supplies there, but like a good soldier it is wise to be prepared."
Sir Ilivan address Xull first, "Boy you look like a handy guy to have in a fight, but you should know all those materials are ready for you. No rich boy soldier I know of get a made-to-order cut from the wolf gear. Buy the cheapest they got and hope it don't smell like ..." he glances uneasily at Delzden.
Walking over to Pooka, he crouches down next to Luna. "Mind if I?" Not waiting for an answer, he runs his hands around Luna's harness. He jimmys the straps and buckles, before rubbing her on the head and standing back up to full height.
"In my experience, can tell a lot about a solider based upon how they treat their animals. Your straps, not too tight to chaff her, and not too loose so that the weight she carries will become off balance. She looks well fed and in good shape, no signs of mistreatment. Well done. So what is your story to afford all this .." he waves his and to include the cart, and Pooka's equipment. "You know this is a patrol right? Not a country stroll to your family's summer home. How do you expect to bring a cart along?"
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"Me was under impressions that we were to be getting horses for this mission, yes? And this is to be first I am to be hearing of carts," says Xûll, bristling somewhat. He was not used to being assessed like livestock, "It is good to be knowing materials are to be ready. We shall be making readies ourselves."
Xûll picks up his supplies and prepares to set off.
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"A righteous man regardeth the life of his beast: but the tender mercies of the wicked are cruel." Pooka rattles off from memory.
"An old farmer's saying, at least in the country where I grew up. Any fool can break an animal to get it to do what you want. There are qualities that make a person a great leader, with men and women who would follow them under any circumstances. Those same qualities produce the same reaction in your animals, when you get right down to it." Pooka smiles at the compliment to both him and his mount. "Leadership is service to those who serve you. But you already knew that, I'm sure"
"As for my cart... well I must have mis-read the missive." Pooka grimaces at his mis-understanding. "I assumed we might be traveling further. It is no matter though, it is simply an aid to carry my gear and provide a place to rest for extensive overland travels. I can travel light, if necessary, especially since our destination is so close. As long as Luna doesn't have to bear the burden of me, and all of our gear apart from combat, we shall be fine. I just need to pick up that cold iron lance I left at the weaponsmith on my way here, and I am ready to depart."
"Oh yes, as for how I can afford this? It is nearly impossible to get along on a farm without a proper wagon, and lately my farmstead has done quite well. And managing some goblin and kobold affairs for the society hasn't hurt the pocketbook either." Pooka winks with a smile.
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"Oh-ho-ho, no no, we are strongly anti-feces!" Delzden laughs heartily, "our foes, though, well, we have a saying how they meet their deaths before they find time to defecate, he!"
Delzden observes Sir Ilivan intently, disregarding his remark entirely, acknowledging his foul smell. He remains silent, not wanting to interrupt Pooka's speech. Delzden admits to himself how nostalgic the talk of farm life sounds to him as well, and he momentarily he finds himself daydreaming of a peaceful life in southern Avistan in a cottage next to a bristling lake.
When Xûll begins to ready himself, Delzden snaps out of his daydreaming. "Say, Xûll, right? he begins, immediately showing off his perfect pronunciation of the Shoanti names, "I could help to notice your irregularities in your speech... patterns. Don't take me wrong, he, it's not an insult! I'm merely curious, from an academic point of view. It appears as if you... know your language better, but don't let everyone know it, he."
And of course, all the while Delzden sports a wide smile and squinted eyes.
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Quietly, Xûll takes Delzden aside and smiles at him before continuing without a hint of an accent, "I have been speaking Taldan since before I could speak Shoanti. My father was a trader and he did much in the way of improving our tribe's lot in life. He taught me that, when dealing with those outside the tribe it is preferable to give them what they expect. When dealing with those of Shoanti origin, most merchants and others expect to meet someone speaking in broken Taldan. I do my best to continue the teachings of my father, curse his name, but sometimes forget exactly how my people usually speak. It has been many years since I have been even proximate to a Shoanti settlement.
"Now," Xûll winks at Delzden in a jovial manner, "Tell anyone else and I'll show you what this Tian sword is for."
Sir Ilivan turns to Xull, "Horses, yes. If there is trouble that cart is a sitting duck. We are also going to take a few trails where we may have to dismount. A cart is slow and unwieldy should we need to move fast. No matter, the boy's brought a friend to carry his stuff. Most soldiers I know can't afford to pay someone to lug their stuff around. But he seems a good lot, takes real good care of his animal.
When you are ready, and you have your wolf-skins, lances, and load your gear, I'll be ready. Best to push off sooner rather than later."
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Arthrax buckles on the last strap of the ridiculously complex system of straps and buckles for his new, gleaming suit of plate armor, giving the heavy suit an experimental work through as he gets used to the motions it will, and most importantly won't, allow. Nodding in satisfaction, he turns to his companions. "Ready to move out, folks. Got some demon-killing weapons and some new armor to improve my odds of not getting ripped to shreds."
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Delzden snorts amusingly at Xûll's story, nodding to his threat with a smile. "You needn't fear, my friend, he!"
Turning towards the others, he dusts off imaginary dust off his trousers and looks at everyone. "Right, so we leave right this instant or the next morning as planned? It might give us time to get acquainted with locale, and maybe get some practice against demons and such."
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"I do not mean to diminish the work and effort that your men have put in, and the limits to which your resources have been stretched, but I must say I am anxious to get moving. I hope that with our presence, we are able to embolden your beleagured men, and provide hope that their resistance is not unnoticed and forgotten." Pooka bows to the battle hardened knight.
"Luna, heel" Pooka commands, and the dutiful dog snaps quickly into place at the halflings right side. A scratch behind her ear and a pat on the head and the armored halfling steps off towards the muster point, and the draft animals they will ride to begin the patrol.
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Luna snaps up the concealed treat in Pooka's hand as she comes to her heel position. A quick shake of her head and body settles the barding back into its comfortable position after getting slightly askew from laying on the floor.
Tail wagging fiercly with the enthusiasm only a dog can show, she follows her master forward.
Striding boldly up to the muster point, leading a beautiful war horse barded with leather armor. 'This is Hannah, who I trust more that all of you combined. By all appearances you appear to be capable warriors, and we crusaders are grateful for your assistance. But you are not soldiers. Soldiers have earned their ranks. I am not discounting any previous experiences that you all have had, and I know some may bristle and take offense at my plainly spoken words, but I wanted to get some things straight.
I have spent more years than I care to count fighting the horrors of the Worldwound. I have seen things ... well I pray you never have to go through what I have.
You seem good lads, and a good lot, but once we leave and enter the patrolling trail, things can go bad real fast. If you want to live, to survive, then you have to be smart and fast. Being smart is not studying some dusty tome up at that lodge of yours, though we don't seem like like the reading type, do we?" He claps Delzden on the shoulder.
"Smart means listening to what I tell you to do. Fast, means do it right away. No hesitation, no second thoughts. See soldiers are trained to obey without questioning. Questioning, thinking about what could be, that take time, time we don't have.
We are going to ride two by two, Anthrax, with me in the front. Can't wait to hear about all the treasure you stole from long lost tombs. Pooka you'll take the flank. Every 10 minutes or so I want you to spurn that dog of yours and ride out in a half-moon, start clockwise, then next time counterclockwise. Fan out about 100 feet. Make sure we are not being followed. If you see something, hear something, feel something, raise a cry and ride as if the beasts of hell are on your tail back to us. We hear that cry, I'd run over my own mother to get to your. No heroes. Know where heroes wind up? Dead. Statues, paintings, stories. All about dead people.
Xull and Delzden take the middle but feel free to ride out a bit, no more than 20 feet or so.
Questions?"
Without waiting, he pulls himself gracefully up Hannah, and turns her towards the River Road, a well worn path that follows the eastern bank of the West Sellen River.
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Obeying orders unquestioned, strict rules, not guidelines, but hard and fast rules. These were things that assaulted the senses of the halfling. He was used to creating disorder. Inciting those who are oppressed to rebel. Fighting against authority.
But this was different. This was not a slave cowed before his master. This was not a bondservant toiling away to pay off an impossible debt. This was willing service to a greater cause. And this man had seen battle, years of it.
Pooka strokes the neck of Luna while watching the way Sir Ilivan handles his warhorse. This is a man I can follow. A soldier, a leader. I will earn his trust.
Pooka lifts the visor of his helm in salute to their defacto leader.
Turning to his squire, not caring who overhears. "It appears you will have more than one warrior whom you will be learning from this trip. Look lively. And stay out of the way."
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The silver-haired, heavily muscled dog grunts as the armored halfling leaps into the saddle strapped to her back. Shaking her head and hanging her tongue out of her mouth with a dog's smile plastered on her face, she trots forward to follow the procession down the River Road.
Luna's tail wags as she picks up to a slight canter to keep up with the longer legged horses, but her stamina remains untaxed for the time being. Trotting behind her Luna senses the presence of the new halfling that seems to follow her master around, and the pony she rides.
Everyone looks so serious. Better not chase any squirrels today. Unless Pooka says so. Yes. No squirrels. Rabbits? No. No rabbits. All work now. Luna loves work. Makes Pooka happy. That's the best.
The hard working dog shakes her head one more time, pulling her wagging tongue inside her mouth. If a dog had expressions, hers would be more serious now. It was time to work, and nothing would break her from her purpose.
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"Uh, Sir, yes, Sir!" Delzden says, trying out the enthusiastic-yet-inexperienced conscript feel, "life on a farm prepares for the hard labor, and curiosity of life prepares you to expect the unexpected. Being smart is to assess all your senses, memory, and knowledge, all to make a rational decision."
"Sir, since you know your demons, he, do you know whether we'll be facing enemies on multiple fronts, and on variable distances? In essence, do the demons possess an elaborate tactical mindset?"
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"It's Arthrax. With an R. And I certainly defer to your vast experience out here. However, you and I...we probably have a different take on the word 'earn'. Though we didn't sit in the Worldwound and work our way up in your military's structure, my companions and I are no less capable or worthy than any of your military men up here. What we lack in the discipline you seem to crave, we make up in ingenuity and guile." The warrior swallows his petty anger, kicking his mount up to ride alongside Ilivan.
"In short, I'll follow your words out of respect for your experience here, but do not infer that because I am not a soldier in your force who has 'earned' his rank that I am beneath them or am willing to accept your poorly disguised barbs at my background with the Pathfinder Society."
The warrior nods as though finished, then his lips curl up in a smile and he expects his hand toward Ilivan. "So let's start over. Sir Ilivan? It is an absolute honor and pleasure to meet you. We have heard that you are one of the finest this region has to offer. I am Arthrax, and I look forward to working with you."