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The banners snap in the wind as a chilly wind blows, the last remnants of winter clinging on as the early spring sun tries to peek out from an overcast sky. The open market in Restov, the largest city in southern Brevoy and the possible the only heart of civilization in the region, is crowded with merchants, pickpockets, beggars, nobles, and others from every walk of life. Though it is unseasonably cold for the 24th day of Calistril people are out in droves, spurred in part by the brisk market trade, but no less by rumors spreading of a grand announcement; one coming from the Regent of the Dragonscale Throne himself, Lord Noleski Surtova.
To understand Restov, and the whole of Rostland, one must think of the way that any colony mimics the land of its forebears. Part rough and tumble frontier town and part cultured center of trade and wealth, Restov is truly the meeting of two worlds. Here merchants brush shoulders with thugs, thieves quietly ply their trade while merchants do much the same with a smile on their faces, all while looking their victims in the eye. The city thrives and breathes, heedless of its dual nature. Some might say in no small part because of its dual nature.
In the center of Market Square stands a wooden stage, which doubles as a gallows as often as it does as a staging ground for less gruesome entertainment. A man, obviously a crier, dressed in livery showing a grey ship over a field of blue below and black above, flanked by two guards lazily carrying halberds and dressed in simple uniforms, slowly makes his way through the parting crowd, clearly making his way towards the stage.
The crier announces in a loud voice that carries to all corners of Market Square.
“Hear ye, hear ye! Let it be known that on this day, an expedition the likes of which has never been undertaken is thus announced. These heroes, brought to us by fate and choice, are hereby tasked with the exploration of the southern wilderness and return law and order to the region known as the Stolen Lands.”
Gesturing toward the six adventurers on the stage with him, the crier introduces each by name. "Today we honor these brave men and women as they go forth to secure our southern borders." He point to each of the adventures in question as he announces their name. "Razarak of House Medveyd. Bron, also known as the Wolf Arrow. Theodore Logan of the Order of Blue Rose, Ivo Crownwheel, a tinkerer of some note. Tove Hellstrom, Priestess of Erastil. And last, but certainly not least, Torsten Bock, who may very well have the manners of his pet, but will certainly be a great boon to the expedition."
Unrolling a parchment the crier recites, "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, is so 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 bearer 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."
"Wish our brave adventurers well these next few hours, as they do our nation a great service."
Following the proclamation, disperses among the vendor stalls and minor entertainment provided in honor of those about to embark on the expedition.
Torsten scowls deeply and leaves the stage quickly. Checking his purse - yes, still flat - he decides against checking out the vendors and looks around the entertainment until he finds a decent singer. "A shame no bard thought the Stolen Lands worth stealing back. It'll be quiet nights on the road, eh Strauch?" A quick look around suggests that his goat is not present. "STRAUCH?"
Wearing a long brown cloak, Bran pulls it close to keep his most striking features hidden, features he had learned that drew attention. He blinks in surprise when the crier calls him 'Wolf Arrow', and tries to remember the application. Messed up somewhere, I guess. Well, besides all those ink splotches. I need to practice my lettering, Bran thinks, shifting his weight on stage. Pa always did say lettering was important.
As the crier leaves, Bran stays close to the stage, completely out of his element in the brisk market air. Greypelt, his wolf, stays close to his side, not liking the tight quarters either. Is it always like this here? How does Father stand it?
I am standing on the stage with my armour recently polished so that the scales look like liquid gold, with silver veins running through it. My large shield has a painting of a Stag's head painted onto its surface, with blue roses intertwined painted around the edges of the shield. My slender blade is sheathed at my hip. My hair is tied up neatly and my beard trimmed, there is no dirt on me and it is obvious that I have cleaned myself up for this occasion. Standing beside me is a grey furred timber wolf wearing similar armour to my own, apart from it is a bronze colour with copper veins. The wolf's head is at the same height as my own.
I am looking over the crowd in silent shock, "I have never seen so many full growns in one place before! How do they keep secrets and have their own space?" As my name is called I bow deeply and the wolf beside me also lowers it's head. I then stand up right again and my armour gleams despite the struggling sun. I give an encouraging grin before following the others off of the stage, closely followed by the wolf. Some people may snigger when they see me walking towards them as I do not seem to be able to move very fast in the armour, but as soon as they remember about the wolf at my side they hold their tongue.
I place my hand on the wolfs side; whether to calm the wolf or hide my own fear of being carried away is unclear, and speak softly to him, "So, what do you say to a nice hot meal and drink before we head out?" I look back to see if any of my soon to be travelling companions are within sight and if they are I walk over to them and offer them to join us for refreshments.
eh, I wish they would have left the "of house Medvyed" part out... but oh well,
Following Torsten: How do you lose a goat...? Anyway, I'm going to the general store to get some food, if you need help finding your goat, or anything from the store, let me know. I'll come join you Logan, after I've gotten some rations.
I look up at the tall man with spiky yellow hair and nod. "Good to see there will be another on this venture who will take care of his appearance, but what is with his hair?" I idly rub Rufus' head softly, "Razarak, was it? Rations I have, however I would like to see if I can buy some meat for my companion on the journey. I cannot guarantee that we will find game whilst travelling; or even catch it if we do find some, and he will need to eat."
I imagine the store would have meat for your wolf, do you think we can get some discounts since we are "heros" and "brave adventurers doing our nation a great service"?
Torsten looks around in panic, wondering just where Strauch had run off to this time. He is quickly relieved when he hears a "Baaa" from behind the stage. Looking down he sees the small goat calmly chewing away at some of the bunting decorating the stage.
As the crier steps down off the stage, he must have noticed Bron's surprise at the "Wolf Arrow" comment as he places a hand on the brown cloaked man's shoulder and comments as he leaves, "Why so surprised, lad? Do you not think that the powers that be would have done a bit of homework on you before granting you that charter?"
As far as discounts, there are none that are automatic, but there's nothing that says you can't try.
I walk up to the closest vendor Good day Sir (or Ma'am), as I'm sure you've just heard, my companions and I are about to head out to the Stolen Lands to reclaim them for the Swordlords, and we were wondering if we could purchase some rations for the road, as well as some meat for my friend here's wolf
"Ahhh, who's hungry then? We'll see if I can't pick you up some feed before we leave. Eat well here though or you'll need to scavenge some, I'm not hauling three days of grain for you!" Torsten heads to a suitable vendor or stable, hauling a suddenly acquiescent goat with him.
Tove catches up with Theodore and Razarak after stopping to speak to some troubled townspeople who approached her as she left the stage.
The wind picks up some stray hairs from her fringe she brushes them away from her face as she makes her way to the others.
"I wouldn't count on it Razarak, these city folk are always out to make a profit and rarely care about anyone other than themselves." Tove looks her companions up and down, with their fancy clothes and well-kept hair. "Oh, sorry, present company excluded I'm sure!"
"Anyway, I think I've packed everything I need, but a nice hot meal before the journey south would be lovely Theodore."
Razarak, Theodore and Tove step up the nearest vendor that appears to have what they may be interested in. Behind the counter is an older man, with thinning hair and gray stubble on his chin.
"Aye, I have what yer lookin' for. Normally I would charge five silvers per day's rations, but give what you all are about to do I could drop that to four." he says with smile and wink toward the priestess.
"I'll give ya the same price on the jerky too. How much can I get for ya?"
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Meanwhile Torsten, with Strauch in tow, finds a separate vendor for the grain, a flame-red haired girl of no more than fifteen winters.
"Anything else I can get you besides the grain, good sir?" Torsten notices that it appears that during the time she has not been dealing with customers she has been biding her time sewing small bags.
As the crier speaks to him, Bran simply shakes his head as an answer. It took me months to find Father, and he's a noble. How do they know about me?
Once the crier leaves and his new companions mention food, Bran realizes just how hungry all this nervous waiting had made him. "I won't say no to food," he replies, following Theodore's group. [i]They move so well with all these people despite their size. I must learn to do this,[i] Bran resolves, trying to take note of how Theodore walks. Greypelt sticks close to his side, avoiding contact with the many people around them.
To the vendor: "Ah, you are so kind, sir. I will take five days worth of rations, here's three gold, you can keep the change.
While he is grabbing the rations Razarak whispers to Tove "See? You just have to know people, and what to say"
When he returns, "What is your name, Sir? I think I will be coming back to your store next time we are in town"
"Thank ya kindly, sir" the gray hair merchant says at Razarak's generousity. "The name's Hamish, sir. We hope to see you again soon."
Ivo is doing his best to keep up as the taller folk wander from place to place, which means occasionally hiking up his small pack and jogging.
"Hey! Hey! How long is the trip going to be anyway?" he asks with a slightly nasal voice.
Without obviously glancing at her sewing Torsten responds "Eh, I could use a bag with a fine enough weave to hold even the dust from this grain. Just a little one. Could you point me to someone who might sell those?"
"I will not require supplies. I still have the stuff my...parents sent me off with back at the inn," Bran informs the others. He nods approvingly when Theodore leaves extra. That was certainly generous. Good to know some of these folk are kind-hearted.
Tove smiles politely back at Hamish.
"It appears I was wrong, there are still kind hearts behind stone walls."
I stand on my toes trying to see over the top of the counter, "Could I have four days worth of meat please, kind sir?" I take the meat carefully and start to put the wrapped food into my backpack when Rufus starts to growl softly. I look at him and notice the hungry look in his eye, "You can have half now and the other half later, okay?"
I put my hands on the counter again and pull myself up a bit, "Excuse me sir, would you be able to cut this in half for me please?" Once I take the meat back again, I place it all in my pack, apart from a piece which I hand to Rufus. Despite the hungry look Rufus takes the meat very softly and gently, places it on the ground and gives my hand a quick lick before chewing on the meat happily. I then reach into my pouch and pull out two golden crowns, I place them in front of the merchant. "Thank you kindly sir."
I look back to the people who will be fulfilling the charter with me, "So, who knows of a decent tavern we can have something eat in before we depart?"
"The inn I was staying at serves some food," Bran answers. "Not as good as a homecooked meal, but it fills you up. The inn is called the Wolf and Arrow. I...I think I messed up my information when I sent it in. I've never been called Wolf Arrow before personally. I'm not that great at using those ink pens."
Rufus stops eating at the word "Wolf" and looks up, then gets back to his meal. "With a name like that, it sounds like a delightful little place. I have a couple of crowns and a few links left, so food and drinks are on me. What name would you prefer be to called by and what is the name of your companion?"
"Well, they say it will take us only two to three days on the road to get to Oleg's, so I for one am going to get some hot food, because who knows the next time we may be able to enjoy even that?"
Without obviously glancing at her sewing Torsten responds "Eh, I could use a bag with a fine enough weave to hold even the dust from this grain. Just a little one. Could you point me to someone who might sell those?"
"Well...I have a few here that I've been workin' on." the red-haired lass responds.
"I really haven't thought too much of sellin' these, as I'm still learnin' and the ones that I've made are a bit on the ugly side...you're welcome to one of them if you like" she says with a shy smile.
Out of the corner of his eye, Torsten sees his new companions finishing up their business with another vendor and getting ready to move on.
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Noticing Theodore's struggles to reach the counter, Hamish comes around front with the requested meat. "Here ya go, good sir." Hamish says with a grin that is short a tooth or two.
After Theodore's request for smaller portions, Hamish nods and pulls a large knife from beneath his apron and divides the portions of meat before handing the portions back to Theodore.
"You all travel safe now. Come back and see old Hamish when you've come back to Restov." the merchant says as the group goes off in search of a bit to eat and drink before departing.
I look shocked as the man comes around to the front of the stall and hands me the meats. Noticing he doesn't laugh or making any height jokes, I bow deeply to Hamish and pull out another 9 small coppery coins befire handing them to him. "Thank you for your help, you may keep the extra Silver Links and these Copper Bits. A little way to say thank you for being kind, welcoming and understanding. One day I shall find a way to repay your kindness properly."
"So, Bran, where is this wolf and arrow tavern at? The sooner we can get some food, the sooner we can hit the road and get this endeavor underway"
"It's near the southern edge of town, where it's a lot less crowded. You can all call me Bran. My companion here is called Greypelt," Bran says. Greypelt glances up at his name, but stays close to Bran's side.
After a few moments, Bran realises that he will have to lead them there. "It's this way," he says, taking the lead. Just walk likee them, Bran tells himself as he pushes into the crowd.
"Oh, perfect, would you take a silver? I need to catch up with those people over there before the crowd hides them, my apologies for being so brief."
I cast an eye nervously at the others as they vanish into the crowd.
The girl's eyes brighten as she says, "Certainly." and hands one of the mismatched pouches over to the young wizard.
Ivo hikes up his pack once more, then says "Just a minute! Just a - oh, nevermind, I'll meet you there."
When the group arrives at the Wolf and Arrow, Ivo shows up about five minutes later, riding on a pony. He struggles off, ties it to the hitching post, and says, "All right, what's for lunch?"
"Something fresh, I hope!" says Tove, standing by the door and holding it open for her new companion.
"Perfect as I said, you may have a future with these," as the exchange is made then, "Ho, fellow explorers! Wait up a moment!"
If he misses them here Torsten will hopefully track the others down at the inn eventually.
The Wolf and Arrow is a small inn, a little off the main path, and doesn't see much business. Near the gate that Bran entered, he mainly chose it because of its closeness and of it having the word 'wolf' in its name.
Bran waves at the proprietor as they enter. "Have any food for me and my companions here?"
The middle-aged half-elven woman behind the bar, Erinna, responds, "Ah, you're back, and with friends. Paying customers I hope."
"Come in, come in, have a seat anywhere you like, not that there's a big crowd in here right now. I think I can rustle something up for you." she says going through her inventory in her head.
"How's about a bit of wild boar ham, biscuits, and eggs? How do you all like your eggs?"
"That sounds great! You don't happen to have some gravy to go with those biscuits do you? And I will have my eggs over easy, please.
Razarak sits in the corner with the best view of the door and leans up against the wall, waiting for his food.
"I think that will do," Bran says taking a seat. Greypelt lays down next to his chair. "How much will that be?"
"A silver a plate." Erinna responds plainly. Turning her attention to Razarak, she says, "I imagine I can whip up a bit of gravy from the ham drippings if you'd like."
"Anything to drink for you all?"
"Biscuits and soft-boiled eggs sound fine to me," replies Torsten, "and, ah, if I could buy a little butter wrapped up in something to take away that would be more than fine."
Strauch has been tied up outside and given some grain to munch on.
"Right, here's my silver and I would greatly appreciate the gravy. Speaking of drinks, I'll take a pint of ale, please."
Turning to the rest of the group, Razarak asks "So, once we get to Oleg's what are you all thinking we do? Should we start walking in a direction looking for trouble? My parents always told me of the abundant trouble to be found in the stolen lands,"
"Perhaps Oleg, or someone else there might have something to suggest? Not that we should be mercenaries for him or whoever else is down there, but those that live on the edge of the Stolen Lands surely know more than I about them."
"I'll take my eggs soft boiled, and I'll have a pint of ale too, please."
Tove turns to the group.
"I agree with Torsten. If the Greenbelt is anything like what my parents described it as I feel like setting out without a destination in mind would be a recipe for disaster. Best to get some advice from the locals first."
"My parents live on the edge of the Stolen Lands. It's not exactly along the Greenbelt, but we know some of the terrain there," Bran says. "We would get the occasional bandits or wild beasts. I've heard that the Greenbelt is one of the worst for bandit attacks, though."
"The charter actually specifies a particular area," points out Ivo as he fishes out a few coins for lunch. "We should talk to the locals at Oleg's, then I'd recommend making a slow series of concentric arcs outward from there as the northernmost base. If we find something interesting we head straight for it."
"That's settled then," Torsten says with satisfaction, "now Bran, I must know. The ears, were they a curse from some angry fey? I have heard such tales but never have I seen one. Those who crossed the fey on Claw Point just disappeared." He leans forward in anticipation.
"I guess you'll all see soon enough," Bran says, getting up. Pulling aside his cloak, he reveals his large, fox-like tail. Brown like his hair, the tip of it is a spring green, which is now also noticible along the ends of his hair as well.
"I've had these features since I was born, accordingly to my parents. Of course, I found out that they're not my actual parents. My true father is...human, but I have no knowledge of my real mother, other than a faint memory of glowing auburn hair. My father refuses to speak of her to me.
"My first few days here, people made a big deal about them, so I've kept them hidden with my cloak, but my hood never stays up long with my ears pushing it back."
Finishing his tale, his pulls his cloak back around him and sits back down.
I sit down with everyone else Rufus curled up around my feet, trying to sleep before the long journey. When the woman comes over and asks what we want, I think carefully about what I want to eat before replying, "I would like my yolk runny, if that is alright? Oh and a mug of squashed fruit juice if you have it?"
I go to put in my own input for our destination, but before I can get a word in, the conversation has changed again. "Good thing what I was gonna say was already said." I then notice the fur like hair on Bran and his tail, I look at it in wonder, not horror or disgust. When he hides his features I am a little disappointed, "It is a marvelous looking tail, does it require much grooming?"
"That's the downside. If I'm in a rush, maybe fifteen minutes, but usually it takes about half an hour a day to kept it from tangling. It's a lot to keep up," Bran explains.