|
Be it so known that the bearer of this charter has been charged
by the Swordlords of Restov, acting upon the greater good and
authority vested within them by the office of the Regent of the
Dragonscale Throne, has granted the right of exploration and travel
within the wilderness region known as the Greenbelt. Exploration
should be limited to an area no further than thirty-six miles east and
west and sixty miles south of Oleg’s Trading Post. The carrier of
this charter should also strive against banditry and other unlawful
behavior to be encountered. The punishment for unrepentant banditry
remains, as always, execution by sword or rope. So witnessed on this
24th day of Calistril, under watchful eye of the Lordship of Restov
and authority granted by Lord Noleski Surtova, current Regent of
the Dragonscale Throne.
You all look over your copy of the charter, roll it up, and place it with the rest of your things as you prepare to set out for Oleg's trading post. You stop and realize, I have yet to introduce myself to the rest of the party....
After putting away the charter, Mark looks over to the rest of the group who is part of the expidition.
"Well," he begins, "I guess someone should say something. My name is Mark. I am a journyman smith by trade. Uhh...I don't really know what to say?" He seems slightly uncomfertable about how to deal with the group. Then brightens a bit.
"Oh and I can do some magical things, like heal people!" He grins, his rugged face hairless. He appears to be a young man, barely an adult. He wears a set of scale mail armor and carries a warhammer on his belt, and around his right wrist is a blue and gold piece of cloth. Sitting atop his horse he seems to be unsure in the saddle, like he hasnt ridden very much, and with him, tied by rope to his horse, is a small mule carrying a variety of equipment in several packs.
Bydar's expression was thoughtful, almost morose for a moment, but when Mark speaks, the cleric can't help but have a smile spread on his face at the enthusiasm. "Bydar Lebeda, in service to Shelyn. It's good to meet you, Mark. And even better to hear I won't have to be healing alone."
Bydar is young himself, though perhaps more poised thanks to both noble and ecclesiastical training. His skin is naturally bronzed, and his brown hair some what curly at the back. Green eyes glance about , and , of course, on his chest is the symbol of his goddess hanging proudly. "We've a long journey ahead of us. So it is best we get to know each other's names at the least."
Mark notices the holy symbol and nods. "My pa always said that priests are good people. I am going to gather you at least know why you can heal people though" He grins broadly and then catches himself as he nearly falls out of his saddle.
"easy, there. I'd give you more advise on riding, but never been very good at that myself," He looks curious, "You don't know how you can heal people? Odd that. I admit to wondering how you do it then. Still, the fact you can heal is a GOOD sign that the source is probably benevolent in origin. How you use it from there, that's for you to decide."
"Lebeda you say . . . interesting. I did not realize the other families had interests in the Stolen Lands" Petriak notes as he taps one long finger against his chin before giving a nod to the other members of the group. One hand idly slides down the front of his vest straightening it after hunching over the charter. The solid maroon vest was trimmed close to Petriak's body much like his trousers and a black cloak was pinned loosely around his shoulder with a pin in the shape of the crest of the Orlovsky family. The tight cut clothes hugged his body and showed off a lean frame while the dark colors complimented his deep brown eyes and short cropped black hair. "I am Petriak Krupt son of the house of Orlovsky."
"I am a diplomat and sorcerer by trade. I am a practitioner of the arcane arts, my magic is less suited to healing and more suited to influencing the world." The young man supplied before uttering a short string of arcane words, an apple bobbing up from the packs on the back of his donkey outlined by a phantom blue hand. Floating through the air the apple dropped into his outstretched hand and Petriak bit into it and chewed with a satisfied smirk.
"I think all the Houses as well as the swordlords themselves see some advantage to having the Stolen Lands be civilized. Though I did come of my own accord when it was mentioned," Bydar says thoughtfully, "And good to meet you, Petriak." He watches the spell display and smiles. "Useful that."
"Surrounded by nobles? Oh boy. This is going to be an interesting trip..." Mark mutters.
"Surrounded by nobles? Oh boy. This is going to be an interesting trip..." Mark mutters.
Bydar laughs softly at that, "If it is of any comfort to you, I'm the third son of a minor branch of the house. I also tend to think of myself as a cleric first. In the wilds, each of us relying on the other? It wouldn't be wise of me to put on airs even if I were the sort."
Mark smiles and seems to get more at ease. "Well thats a relif. The few times my Pa had nobles visit the shop, they were always really...snooty? I would rather not have to put up with that honestly." Mark glances over at Petriak, noticing his fancy dress. "If you can't mend that outfit I can for ya... Just be aware that life out here in the wilds can get a bit rough..." Mark then catches himself almost falling out of the saddle again and grumbles as he rights himself.
Bydar looks thoughtful, then says "Mark, It's possible you have been selected as an oracle. I've only heard of them, read a little bit, but if what I was told is right... each Oracle draws his or her power from a divine mystery. This mystery is but an aspect of some of the gods and their might. There's more, but I'm afraid I never made a serious study of it. Someone has shown an interest in you though. Which one or ones, I do not claim to know."
Nodding slightly, Mark gets a pensive expression on his face. "That would explain a few things... At least my powers have a name now." He sighs, and looks over at the group. "Well once we get to this Trading Post, I think we should all go over are particular talents in a bit more depth. That way we each know what we can do and bring to the table, both in a fight and outside of it."
Finally he glances over at the last quiet member of the group, the huge man with the dogs. "Ummm do you have a name sir?"
"Well, everyone has their secrets but that does seem wise."
"It would be foolish of me to believe that the other Houses would fail to see the advantage in the Stolen Lands." Petriak admits with a rueful smile to Bydar. "Though I admit I came of my own volition as well. It seemed like it was past time for me to find my own fortunes. I thank you for the offer Mark, I admit my skills are less . . . practical in nature."
"An Oracle? That is certainly interesting. It isn't unlike a sorcerer, you don't always know where the power in your blood springs from." Petriak looked at Mark speculatively as he continued to munch on his apple. "Between the three of us it seems we have quite a variety of magical talent. I will certainly travel easier knowing I have two companions that can patch me up. Though I agree that knowing more of each other's potential may not be bad. It is possible our magical skills can be coordinated to be most effective."
As the trio heads toward Oleg's Tradehouse they round a corner and see a man standing in the street that is positively enormous. The street is clear all around him for a good fifty feet, so it's hard to tell just how big he is at first, but then they notice that the doorways of the buildings near him don't even reach the top of his broad chest. He must stand more than two feet taller than any of them with shoulders nearly twice as wide as a normal man's.
He wears a long ratty canvas coat that is missing the right sleeve and is reinforced with patches of thick dark hide. He carries an enormous weapon that looks a lot like a broad-blade spear with a hook branching off of it.
His skin is a deep honey brown like dark leather and he seems to be completely hairless. His bare arm has patches of discoloration tracing across it, perhaps a scar or birthmark.
At his sides are two of the largest dogs any of them have ever seen, mastiffs of some kind, one charcoal colored, the other golden, looking practically normal sized next to their master.
The giant of a man seems to be looking at a piece of paper in confusion and looking around occasionally beginning to move towards a bystander, but then stopping as the crowd reacts in fear to even his slightest movement.
A frustrated scowl paints his face and he throws the paper over his shoulder and begins to walk away, ignoring the parting crowd.
The wind lands the paper near the trio. It is the same writ they all carry.
Bydar is surprised at the sight of the fellow, but when he notices the paper land and what it looks like, he picks it up and approaches the fellow, "Excuse me, but I believe you belong with us. You see, I and my companions each have one just like it."
The big man turns and looks down, opening his mouth with a grimace, then stops as he gets a good look at the person addressing him.
"Yes. I do. Where do we go?"
"We'll be heading toward's Oleg's outpost. My name is Bydar, this is Mark and Petriak.. just join us and we'll head there together. What, if I may ask, is your name?"
"Raxus." The big man rumbled, his speech as blunt as his forehead.
"Oh wow....you are a huge man Raxus! Spear looks good too. Well made." Mark seems in awe of the sheer size of the man who just joined them. Not afraid, but just amazed that someone could get so big.
"It's nice to meet you, Raxus." Bydar says as he gets back on his horse. "I take it you are a warrior? Petriak was just speaking of our group's magical gifts. A man of military skill would be most welcome at this point."
Noting the two dogs, Mark grins. "Oh! Raxus are your dogs friendly? What are their names?" Mark appears to be trying to get the large man to speak more.
Mark then looks down the road. "Shall we continue to Oleg's Trading Post?"
He notes the woman, "Looks like someone got ahead of us."
talking to herself
"Well it'll be good to talk with Oleg and Svetana again,
I wonder if one of the hunters traded off some Boar Ribs?"
she spots the approaching group
again talking to herself
"Looks like Oleg's might get busy today"
"Dawn and Dusk. They are friendly. To me. Mastiffs are slow to warm towards people they do not know, but they are well trained and will not harm you." the big man replies. "I am a hunter. I was sent by my village to-" he stopped as he saw the woman standing in front of the tradepost. He stops dead in his tracks and just stares.
"Looks like Oleg's might get busy today"
Bydar looks to Raxus' reaction and can see why. The woman is quite lovely.
"We're going to Oleg's, yes. And possibly," He gestures to the scroll she's carrying, "for similar reasons."
Raxus blinks, looks at the paper in the woman's hand, and then at the one in Bydar's. For a moment he seems paralyzed, but then he turns and crouches, turning his attention to the darker hound at his side, conveniently putting his back to the group and making his height stand out less.
He simply fiddles with the dog's buckles and straps and does his best to seem occupied.
Seeing the woman, Mark smiles and waves. "Hello there! "
she quickly glances over the entire group
and replies to Bydar's inquiry
"So you also got the Charter?"
she notices Raxus' attempt to socially hide himself and notes his quick glances to her
she then tilts her head a bit to the side as she continues
"Well, Oleg's Outpost is not a bad starting point considering the contents of the charter."
"You sound familiar with the area. I'm Bydar of Shelyn, nice to meet you."
"I'm Bridgette Etna Asta Valerius,
I'm not familiar of anything south of Oleg's unfortunately
as Oleg's outpost is the most southern part I personally know about."
Noticing that Raxus seems to be doing something with the dogs, Mark slowly dismounts, and walks over to the big man. As he does, he looks over his shoulder at Bridgette and says simply "Names Marketus, but everyone calls me Mark!"
Once Mark reaches the large man, he kneels down and looks at the dogs. He then glances over, almost shyly, to Raxus. "Can I pet em? I love dogs."
"It's nice to meet you Mark."
Raxus nods and says something to the great dog in a rough and guttural language. It sits and looks patiently at Mark.
"Hold your hand out. Let him get your scent. If he likes you, you can touch him."
Calmly, and barely hiding a grin, Mark holds out his hand.
The dog slowly noses forward, sniffs a few times, pauses, and then takes a few wet licks of Mark's hand.
Smiling broadly, Mark begins to pet the large dog. "I never had a dog growing up. Maybe I can find time to get a dog while we are here..." He glances over at Raxus. "If we find one can you help me train him?"
Bydar smiles at this exchange. I envy his innocence. I just hope he doesn't lose it in our travels too soon.
"Dogs choose their masters, not the opposite. You must find them young and see if they bond. Should that happen, I will help you with training."
|
|
Now traveling down the road as a group, you arrive at Oleg's trading post. A small outpost situated at the top of the greenbelt, most of the buisness comes from trading with local hunters. A woman is seen opening the gates to the post, and approaches the group calmly.
Are you the guard troop we were promised from the city up north? If so, you arrived just in time, they are coming tommorow to collect.
with a puzzled look on her face
"Sletvana, who is coming to Collect?
and Collect what?"