After receiving your copy of the charter, the Lord Mayor’s secretary told you, the expedition to the Stolen Lands is set to depart from the Rostov Market Gate today, the 25th of Calistril. He mentions that you are to meet up with your fellow charter-bearers and a small group of settlers that have answered the early calls and opportunities offered by the Swordlords in this new venture. He says that although little trouble is expected during the week long journey to Oleg’s, your first duty is to see the settlers safely to Oleg’s before engaging in other exploration.
This early in the year, the weather isn’t ideal for travel, the roads are typically muddy or snow covered. However, fortune must be smiling on the expedition as a recent series of heavy winter storms has ended and today the sun is out providing some welcome light and warmth after weeks of gray, rain and snow.
As you arrive at the bustling Market Gate, you notice a group of four wagons of diverse size and function, each occupied by an equally diverse set of passengers. Although there is a significant amount of traffic arriving and departing to and from the north, east, and west, this group appears to be the only one getting ready to travel south.
The first wagon is sturdy and functional looking, heavily loaded with food, tools, and all the supplies needed to start a new homestead. A lanky man with a short beard and sun burnished skin sits holding the reins. A woman and two small children, a boy and a girl, sit next to him on the bench. Two other children, an attractive young teenage girl and her younger sister, ride in the back of the wagon, while a pair of young men, obviously brothers , ride a pair of draft horses alongside the wagon.
The second wagon is smaller than the first and driven by a large Ulfen with long blond hair and beard, braided and neatly in traditional custom. A pipe hangs from his mouth and a steady stream of sweet smelling tobacco smoke drifts into the air. The familiar shape of a large anvil can be seen sticking up under the heavy tarp covering much of the back.
Behind the smith’s wagon is a mule drawn cart. Holding the reins is a watchful Halfling woman who leans over and speaks quietly to a striking brunette woman wearing a simple dress of green cotton, sturdy leather boots, and a heavy oiled leather coat. Although her clothing is of good quality, her beauty seems diminished by the slightly thin, pale look of someone who hasn’t eaten well for several days.
The final wagon is hardly noticed beyond its pair of odd looking owners. Dwarven twins, sit on the driver’s bench, but dressed in entirely different manners. The first wears the typical gray and brown earth tones common among many clans. His brother, however, is wearing a brilliant red and yellow overcoat lined with purple silk, and all of that is topped with a brilliant red and purple stripped, slightly crooked and worn top hat which stands a good foot above his head. Currently the two are busily arguing over some minor mundane matter while they wait for the rest of the expedition to gather and get under way.
Thad's purpose on this expedition is clearly martial. He is armed and armored and surveys the crowd around the market gate, taking note of any who seem to be paying inordinate attention to the gathered settlers.
Thad is quite good-natured, after leading his horse and pack mule to the market gate he hitches them to a post and hops down to talk with the families and tradesmen he will be traveling with. He is short for an elf, standing a little under 6ft tall with sandy-blonde hair and the large green eyes typical of his people- and from the look of the gear on his pack saddle he is comfortable on the road.
Thad smiles at the little kids and swaps a few words with the parents and the rest of the family. Yes sir, I was brought up by a family of tanners- no, I never took up the trade myself, I couldn't stand the smell. ...Yes ma'am, this certainly is nice weather for startin' our journey, downright auspicious. ...Sharp eyes young man. Yes, that's Old Deadeye's mark I carry. He brought me out of a dark place and I've been doing my best to follow his ways ever since...
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Stephanus strolls over to the waiting wagons, pack over his shoulder, collar of his coat up, extinguished cheroot clenched in his teeth. At the sight of the elven warrior he removes the cigar, tucks it in the pocket of his coat and offers his hand.
Name's Stephanus. We're to be companions on the road, I think.
Kams rides up near the head of the wagon "train", taking the time to nod and smile to each group as he passes, making for the two persons near the front, likely members of the chartered guardians. He dismounts and leads his horse the last distance, slightly hesitant to disrupt their conversation.
Greetings to you both, Kams Redcloak at your service. Are you, like me, under charter to participate in this expedition?
He gestures to the assembled wagons and their occupants. We have the grand beginnings for an outpost, I think, with an assortment of "colorful" characters to boot. he mentions, nodding slightly towards the dwarves, though his eyes seldom leave the direction of the younger lasses.
She does remind me of Alisha, that one. I hope I do you proud, Ali.
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Munching on an overripe apple, Zavac watches the caravan gather while in the shade of a nearby building. He glances down again at his copy of the charter, just to make sure, and decides that it's not yet time. Three rather imposing men, two humans and an elf, or is it a half-elf, have stopped already. Two of them had horses, while the other smoked. If only he himself could have such luxuries. A long drawn-out sigh escapes, Such is my life.
Throwing the core away, he gathered his modest belongings and headed over. As he drew near, he thrust out his jaw, making sure that the scars on his face were evident. His near pride in the marks was clear, and his manner of displaying them almost dared any looking to say anything about it. Still, once he was near, he simply stood by silently, listening, his flail, strapped to his back, swinging gently.
A young, well-tanned man approaches wearing hide armor and a large sturdy backpack. He is tall and wiry and seems uncomfortable entering the crowd. His blonde hair is long and unkempt and seems to wave wildly in the wind. A large eagle orbits in the sky above him and he has a large, thick, leather glove on his left hand with a smaller eagle perched there. With a quick motion he sets the smaller eagle into the air and approaches the wagons.
He can't help but be drawn to the women in the wagon and the dwarves behind them. He places himself between these two wagons and looks expectantly at the occupants, but does not say anything. He pulls out his charter and quickly scans the crowd.
Aliana halts her steed, a small boned, athletic looking chestnut mare with flowing black mane and tail. They stand at the intersection of the street overlooking the gate plaza. She bites her lip, momentarily uncertain as she spares a glance behind her - back to the familiar. She takes a deep breath.
Too late to turn around now, Aliana. Besides if you did, you would never get the answers you seek. Get on with it, don't want to keep them waiting.
With a gentle nudge of her knee, she urges the horse forward and towards the group of wagons. Her head nods a friendly greeting and she smiles to each group of passengers as she makes her way to the group of men up front, having guessed that they are the ones most likely to be the other charter-bearers. Her sharp eyes observe each group of passengers as she passes,making note of whatever details strike her. I must take the time to get to know my fellow travelers and soon. A strange feeling, my being at least partially responsible for these others, some twice my age...
At last she lifts the reins slightly, signaling her horse to stop. She is a rather short and petite young woman, her features hinting at more than a little elven blood. Her silky brown hair is pulled back in a braid. Her face contains two large green eyes and a small, slightly upturned nose dotted with freckles. She is dressed in a simple but well-cut green and gold trimmed robe, divided for riding. No weapons are visible on her person, but one can easily see an unstrung yew bow and several arrow-laden quivers tied to the saddle of the horse.
The young woman lifts one leg and swings it over the side of the saddle, dropping to the ground. Pulling off her riding gloves Aliana steps forward and clears her throat. "Good day, gentlemen."
Seeing potentially the newest members of this band approaching, Kams remembers his lessons, hard learnt by journey out of the River Kingdoms. Show no fear, meet the foe head on (should no choice remain), let your strength be your bond.
Well met, he says to the lithe maiden with a slight bow, his gazing passing over the orcish youth in stern approval, and the wild young man with a kindly wink, indeed, to all of you. Kams Redcloak am I. These others were just introducing themselves. Come, join us.
He stretches out his strong right arm, his gloved hand open in greeting, to be met in grip, touch, or gesture, to all present in a slow sweeping gesture. As customary, his bucklered left arm rests above his sheathed blade, hand on the pommel. Show your steel should it be sought in kind.
Am I wrong, or do I reckon true we find ourselves in service to the Swordlords? The Greenbelt lies ahead and these good folks await the journey to begin. Myself, I am eager to be out of doors and under Ol' Deadeye's gaze an graces once more. City living is fine to pass the spell, but it tires the body and dulls the senses.
I thought we were to have seven, or have I misjudged? Am I even with the right caravan?
Do any know who here is to lead this assorted assemblage? I offer my bow and blade to them and to the duty and laws of Restov.
A tall figure leads a shaggy spotted pony laden with supplies. A modest and almost shapeless tunic is rough spun wool pulled over a linen sheath gathered at the center of her mass by a broad leather belt with several inches of slack at its end. A lined fur cloak seems to oppress this only vaguely feminine creature, its cowl brought up over her face so as to cloak the majority of it in shadow, but her complexion seems darker than most. Piercing emerald eyes glance at her surroundings from underneath, easily the most remarkable feature of the woman, but never rest too long on any one settler, or guardsman for that matter, until they assemble. Sparing a second glance for the Ulfen smith, she tugs lightly at the reigns and pulls the pony's muzzle closer, stroking it with her gloved hand and speaks softly to it in the language of the wilds as she leads it closer to the assembly.
After carefuly minutes of silent observation, Warren walks deliberately next to the imposing man with the flail.
He seems almost as uncomfortable as I am. To settle this land I will do many things that make me uncomfortable.
In a show of extrovertism for Warren, he manages to shift his gaze from his feet to those of Zavac's.
"I am called Warren."
He nervously shuffles his charter in his hands and looks back down.
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Stephanus looks around at the assembled group and tries to dismiss the small voices sniping in his head. In Oppara, these would all be unbearded. But this is not Oppara, and that is a good thing. The voices had been growing progressively quieter the further up the Sellen he journeyed, and now he gave a little shake of the head to quiet them further. Be damned to the Taldane and their airs.
Stephanus produces his own contract and waves it at his new found companions by way of introduction.
"I count four walkers among us. Care to pool our resources and see if a wagon might be secured to spare our legs? At minimum I can buy a mule to carry our bags. I don't mind a walk, but carrying food and everything else will grow tiresome very quickly."
A closer look at the settlers reveals that a few are armed in case of trouble. The big Ulfen has a large hammer sitting at his side and the drably dressed dwarf carries a heavy war axe. The oldest boy near the front wagon, carries a short sword and looks as if he's had a bit of training, while his father has a solid looking quarterstaff resting within easy reach.
Well, I have a few coins I can loan to the cause, should they be needed. In for a penny, in for a pound as it were. He fumbles at his belt, pulling out a small handful of coins for assurance, before dropping them back into his pouch. Were it nothing else, Cracky and I nodding to his horse, would gladly share in the load, to ease the road south and repay the kindness forward.
Kams appraises the looks of everyone, a group nothing like what he expected. The Swordlords seem to have gathered this group for a purpose, something more than simple escort and expedition. The days ahead look to be interesting, if nothing more. Ali, I think you would like where this is headed. Watch me over, little sis, with luck I'll make you proud.
As you all gather towards the front of the caravan, the lean farmer stands up and offers a slight bow and smile.
"A good day to you friends," he says in a clear voice that easily carries over the bustling noise of the city gate. "My name is Fulton Meyerson and this is my wife Andrea." He gestures towards the woman sitting next to him. Although she's smiling as her husband speaks, her eyes reveal a slight hint of fear and her hands nervously fuss with the blanket wrapped around the little girl sitting in her lap.
"We're all much obliged for your generous escort and protection on this journey. The others have picked me to act as spokesman for our small group, although I'm sure we'll all have plenty of time to know each other on the road." With a glance and a smile towards Stephanus he adds "For those who don't wish to wear holes in their boots on the way, I'm sure we can find a spot on one of the wagons for you and your gear if needed."
Then with a nod toward the rising sun he says, "I think we're all ready to get started..."
"Before our good sense kicks in." Shouts out the big Ulfen with a laugh and smile.
Taking the other man's interruption and humor in stride, Meyerson finishes up by adding with a chuckle of his own, "Aye, there's many who think we're a bit daft for taking this risk. Either way we're committed now, so once you're settled just give the word and we can get underway."
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Zavac found it interesting that such a tall man would be so uncomfortable talking to him, although he was all too familiar to such situations. It was his curse, and yet his greatest defense. As the blue eyes of the stranger met his own of yellow, he attempted to throw in a bit of a smile with the gaze.
"I'm Zavac. Pleased to meet you," he stated simply. "Don't let the scars fool you, I-" he stopped mid-sentence, having heard of a wagon.
Glancing over to the eccentric one who was smoking earlier, he gave his best smile. "I'd be happy to help out with a wagon, or even get another mule for us."
He mused for a while, imagining what a train of asses would be like. He noted the conversation between the self-professed leader and the Ulfen, deciding to ride in the leader's wagon as per his offer.
"Thank you kindly for the offer, sir," nodding. "If I may, I'd like to ride with you and yours. I look forward to our journey."
Placing his backpack in the wagon, he jumps in, grabs another apple, and waits patiently for the others. Too much smiling for one day already.
Well met, he says to the lithe maiden with a slight bow, his gazing passing over the orcish youth in stern approval, and the wild young man with a kindly wink, indeed, to all of you. Kams Redcloak am I. These others were just introducing themselves. Come, join us.He stretches out his strong right arm, his gloved hand open in greeting, to be met in grip, touch, or gesture, to all present in a slow sweeping gesture....
"Well met indeed Master Redcloak." Her hand extends for him to take in greeting. "I am Lady Aliana Do'Erren, though just Aliana will do. A pleasure to meet you all." She inclines her head gracefully, encompassing the group. "I also have a few extra funds, if another wagon is needed,or desired."
When Fulton introduces himself, she will greet his family in kind and smiles at the banter between farmer and smith. "I do believe I am myself ready to depart. The day will not get any younger, yes?"
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Stephanus smiles, taking comfort in the helpful attitudes of everyone in the train. A seat in the back of one of the existing wagons sounds ideal, as long as there's space for everyone not already mounted. He slings his pack and a recently purchased sack of trail rations into the back of the last wagon and hops up.
"As long as there's room and we're not burdening the good folks we're supposed to be helping, I'm happy to save our funds for more pressing needs - further on up the road."
Once settled on the rear of the last wagon, he places his crossbow and bolts within easy reach and resumes chewing the end of his half-burned stogie.
EDIT: (forgot to roll perception as a lookout)
"Well met Master Redcloak and Aliana. I don't get out much--no wait, I get out plenty, I don't get in civilized society much. My charges will get nervous if I ride in the wagon all the way, but I'll jump in occasionally besides Zavac. Generally I'll range out of the wagons in front--I may have a chance to make new animal friends."
Warren tosses his pack in the first wagon. He will be about 60' in front of the first wagon.
"Zavac, if the wagon gets stifling, you can join me in front."
Perception - Knowledge Nature
Tuney (eagle) perception
It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Aliana. It is gracious that you have joined our fair expedition. Know that I offer my sword should ever you find yourself in need.
Kams spends a few minutes getting acquainted with his fellow travelers, both those under charter and the wagoneers. Accepting that the naturalist, Warren, wishes to range to the front of the group, he offers to follow up the train.
Master Dominova, how fare your journeys? From your style and demeanor, I take it you are not native to Brevoy. I myself hail from Galt, Edme actually.
Perception check
As Kams takes up position to the rear of the caravan, he notices the armored Tanner bears the symbol of Erastil. So, Ol' Deadeye has graced us with one of his own. Indeed this should be a fair journey.
We seem all set back here. Awaiting our leader's call to proceed.
Aliana smiles. "The pleasure is mine, Mr Redcloak. You are overly kind, though I hope that I shall not have need of your offer anytime soon."
Aliana takes position just ahead and to the side of the first wagon. She will chat amiably with her fellow travelers until the time to depart.
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Zavac nods at the young man, to show recognition of the offer. Nibbling at the apple, he is struck by the attitude this man has shown towards him. Most aren't as quick to invite him within talking range. I may yet enjoy this journey, then.
Finishing his apple, he glances at the two girls he shares the wagon with, trying to gauge their reactions to his appearance. Depending on how far away they inch, he may take point with Warren, so as to avoid scaring the poor things.
perception
After making the acquaintance of his fellow charter-bearers, Thad and his mule will range alongside the wagon train. He spends most of his time alongside the halfling and her sickly-looking companion, but from time to time ranges ahead or back to swap words with the smith and the dwarves. Thad has liked most of the halflings he has met due to their cheery nature and fierce optimism, with any luck they can pass time on the trail swapping stories.
Ma'am, I don't mean to pry, but you look a bit out of sorts. Should we call for a physicker before we depart?
That last bit was addressed to the halfling's companion. It would be quite a hardship of she fell ill on the road at this time of year...
Tityanna does not meet the representative's eyes as he speaks, chosing instead to focus on the actions of his wife and child.
She's the right to be afraid. Her future will be colored by bandits and lawlessness, Tityanna muses, and spares a glance for the colorful host of mercenaries assembled. As though I am in possession of moral imperative from which to condescend, she chides herself and smiles.
Recognizing perhaps a bit too late that she has yet to be introduced - of course there were heralds employed for such minor pleasantries as announcing the presence of a lady at the court - Tityanna raises her arms and slowly pushes the fur cowl back from her face, revealing a rather queer set of features that was not wholly unattractive. Tityanna's eyes are a bit too large, almost almond in shape and tilted slightly, something like an elf's, or a cat's. High cheekbones are saved from appearing wholly angular by what little baby fat remains. Her mouth is more than a touch too wide, and her full lips seem out of place in such a sparse landscape. Tityanna's hair is auburn at a glance, and worked with several rows of tight braids that keep the bulk tight against her scalp.
As the others disperse, Tityanna leads her pony beside the Smith's wagon and hazards a smile that is not concealed by design.
"Is it lack of wit that motivates your departure from Restov, Master, or profit?" she inquires, sparing a glance for the anvil in the back of his wagon.
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Stephanus sits up as the ranger wheels into view behind the train.
"The Empire," he replies. Then realizing how disappointingly Taldane this sounds he corrects himself. "Taldor... Oppara specifically. Jewel of the Inland Sea."
He chews his thoughts for a moment, trying to choose the words least likely to offend.
"On my journey up the Sellen I changed at Isara but never really left the riverfront. My guides left me unsure of my reception in the town proper, so my experience with your homeland was confined to the good inn where I stayed. A sad disappointment to be sure. Perhaps I'll return in happier times to take in more of your fair culture. The wine alone..."
He trails off, shaking his head in sorrow at the missed opportunity.
Zevac, as you climb into the wagon, the two girls politely make room for you and your pack in the crowded, cramped space. The oldest is about 15 and offers you a brief, hesitant smile while the younger is closer to seven. The young woman, puts a protective arm around her little sisters shoulder, which the younger one immediately slips out of and to her siblings obvious embarrassment makes her way over to you.
She has dark brown her, similar to her father, cut simple and shoulder length. Rather than a dress, she wears a patched set of pants and wool tunic, both a little big on her and likely handed down from her brothers. She looks you over with a curious and quite penetrating set of brown eyes and says with a smile, "Hi! My name is Sari, what's yours? What are all those funny marks and why is your skin that color? Are you envious of something, because my papa has said a person can turn green with envy. What is it you're envious of? Are you going to start a farm like papa, if so you where's all your seed and your plow?" She doesn't really stop the barrage of questions, instead it is just a brief break for air. You can sense more questions are on the way.
Tityanna, you watch the big Ulfen as he takes a few strong pulls on his pipe, the smoke billowing up and over his head. His barrel chest continues to draw the smoke in and out of his lungs filling the air with the sweet scent of tobacco. A twinkle sparks in his blue eyes he bursts into a deep, friendly laugh saying, ”You’ve found me out, my good lady. Tis true I hope to find profit and renown in a new land, but you must admit all of us here must be a bit desperate or downright cockeyed in the head to be attempting to civilize and tame the denizens of the Stolen Lands. Still, I say if the challenge is easy it isn’t worth doing.” He then takes his pipe in his hand and offers a salute and bow of the head to you, ”Donall Egillson, a pleasure to be at your service my lady.”
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Zavac notes the older girl's hesitation, but returns her smile. As the younger one comes over, he shifts nervously. Younger children always put him on edge. She was a cute little thing, though, eyes full of blatant curiosity. Then she started talking. Oh, boy.
Just as it seemed she had stopped, he opened his mouth to answer some of her questions. He hardly had time to draw breath before she was at it again. Her barrage of questions and openness somehow eased his usual anxiety of kids. Smiling to himself, he sat back and let her prattle on, content to have someone talking to him. Looks like I picked an interesting seat. Once she stops, I'll give her an apple. If she stops.
He stole a glance over at the older girl. She wasn't much younger than himself, and she was sort of pretty with that red glow of embarrassment on her face.
Noting the rest of the party's position, he silently prays to Sarenrae, only half-listening to the young girl chattering away.
Stephanus, the two dwarves watch you as you jump into the back of their wagon. With a slight frown on his face the one dressed in gray and brown says in a gravelly voice, “You’re welcome to ride, just don’t touch nothin’ back there. I’ll not be responsible if you blow yourself to the eighth plane of hell.”
The other one, laughs hardily and lightly taps his brother on the shoulder which draws a dour glare in response. He then turns to you and says, ”Welcome aboard, friend. It’s a pleasure to have you along.” He reaches up and tips his tall hat towards you. ”Porter, and my outgoing brother, Burdo formerly of the Deepsilver clan.” He then points to a pair of chests secured to the side of the wagon with thick, padded straps. ”What my good brother is trying to say is that you’ll want to be careful of those two chests as they contain a variety of alchemical elixirs that we use in our prospecting and extraction processes. They're a tad volatile, but we hope they'll be handy in searching out new veins. After all, we’ve heard the rumors of how the Stolen Lands contain vast untapped sources of silver, gold, and who knows what else. We hope to find and stake a claim of our own.”
Warren's inability to keep his eye on the road seem to be due to the enigmatic lady on the fine horse, Aliana. He once again finds himself in an awkward situation where keeping the horse the center of conversation seems the most comfortable. Approaching the horse "Aliana, it appears we will be companions." He quickly flushes with embarassment and quickly adds "TRAVELING companions" rather awkwardly.
"I tend to have a way with animals and may be able to provide useful insights about your fine horse at times."
Warren attempts to befriend the horse.
Handle animal CHA to modify attitude
And seems somewhat suprised to get a hostile reception. Jumping back he apologizes awkwardly.
Thad, the halfling responds to your question saying, ”She’ll be fine. Nothing a good solid meal wouldn’t fix. Hasn't had enough to eat for days.” Her voice is filled with protectiveness, concern, and just a bit of frustration. She reaches over and pats the other woman’s hand gently.
The brunette then settles her own hand on top of the halfling’s to ease her companions worries, she then looks at you with a gentle smile on her pale lips. She’s likely in her early or mid-twenties, and although showing the signs of hunger is still quite striking.
”It is kind of you to show concern, good sir. But I assure you I will be fine and able to make the journey to my brothers. It’s only since my husband’s death that we’ve found ourselves short of funds and the cupboard bare.” Her voice is kind, quiet and gentle. Her hands lack the callouses of a laborer or peasant, but seemed to be stained with a variety of colors. Brushing back a stray strand of black hair, her green eyes are downcast as she adds, “But where are my manners, I am Ursula Leveton, and this is my governess, Duella. We are pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Tityanna inhales and bites softly on her lower lip when the large man mentions the title lady, but the gaffe is momentary. She returns his smile.
"Tityanna," she answers in an even, confident tone. She draws Puck's muzzle closer to her and strokes it in a friendly way, "and this is my friend Puck. Although, I gather the two of you will become well acquainted in the future," she suggests and Puck stamps a hoof as though prompted.
Tityanna looks out at the road ahead for a moment, her smile fading. "To speak the truth, it surprises me that the lords had the insight to attach skilled settlers to this initiative," she muses to the smith. "I should have thought they would profit more from our dependency for finished goods."
Aliana can't help but chuckle softly as she swats the horse on the nose to keep her from nipping Warren. "Careful there. She can be a bit overprotective of me sometimes. I suspect it's a bit of her residual battle-trained instincts coming out from a previous time." She smiles at the young man and touches his shoulder briefly. "My apologies for Wynd's temper. I think she senses a journey ahead and the excitement is getting to her. Perhaps when she settles and you two have a chance to make friends I will take you up on the offer. She was my brother's horse back before she took her wound and I confess I know little of horses beyond the very basics of riding. This journey should give me ample opportunity to learn however, and any advice would be most welcome."
Stroking the horse's nose while eyeing the man's leather glove curiously she asks, "I noticed the raptor you had with you earlier. Are you a falconer by trade, or is it more of a hobby?"
Warren quickly moves to the left and to the side of Aliana's horse's hind end and keeps up the pace easily. "To be safe, you always want to stay here to avoid a kick." Warren looks at Aliana and smiles.
"I have been an eagle hunter since I was young. Falcons are faster, but eagles are superior in every other way, but I am definitely biased."
Warren whistles and a large eagle lands on his gloved left hand.
"This is Montey, I bought him before I bonded with Tuney there."
Warren points to another slightly larger eagle orbiting overhead. "I am looking forward to this open land ahead of us. It is rife with opportunities and challenges. That is a fine bow; you chose an excellent wood and the bowyer knows his business."
Warren then lapses into a silence, but a comfortable silence for a change.
For now Warren is 10 feet on the outside of Aliana's horse to the back.
Watching the dwarves and their passenger's exchange, Kams chimes in to his comrade, Well, I assure you, Galt leaves little to be missed these days shaking his head somewhat bitterly. But then, I lost my loved ones due to the Gray Gardeners and Razor Jenni, these three years past. Maybe things have improved, but from what I hear, not so. They'll ruin themselves and everyone around if left to it too long.
His eyes take a far off glaze, then refocus as he reaches around into his bags. As he holds up a dark reddish bottleOf course, I do have one bottle of my father's favorite, picked up from a retired trader last week. Plan on toasting our success when we arrive at this Oleg's outpost. You are welcome to share, as is everyone what can get to a glass before she's empty.
He settles his mount into a comfortable gait, then comments. Taldane then, once neighbors, of a sort, now compatriots. It's good not to be the only foreign refugee here serving Brevoy in this. Leaning in, So are you a Blade, or from one of the Taldan legions? I myself sought to learn the ways of the Swordlords, but have been rebuffed, twice now. I fear my skills are too wild and free for what they play at.
Thad returns her smile, but it falters a bit after hearing of Ursula's loss, My name's Thad, Thad Tanner though I don't have much use for my family name lately, it is likewise a pleasure to make your acquaintance. After a momentary silence he continues, That's what too much "civilization" gets you. It ain't right that folks who have suffered such misfortune should go hungry on top of it all. My poor mule is near to collapse under all the supplies I'm making her carry; I've enough to make the journey to Oleg's twice over. I'd count it a privilege to share what I have with the two of you... It will be difficult to convince Thad to take no for an answer.
At some point fairly early in the day's travel, Thad rides around our small caravan to check for any signs of taint or evil influences
Ursula's face lights up bringing a life and joy that seemed to be missing before.
"Bless you good sir." She says with warmth and happiness in her voice. Then in a softer, near whisper she adds, "I had begun to believe there was little true kindness left in the world. It is good to see I may have been wrong." You notice her face blush slightly as she finishes speaking. To hide her feelings she turns away and starts to try and brush dirt off of her dress and coat.
Duella is also grateful for your generosity, but is more subdued in her thanks. She offers a quick "Thank you very much sir, we'll not forget your kindness." She rolls her eyes at Ursula's blushing face, but then turns her gaze back towards you. She watches carefully as you make your way around the caravan, searching for any sign that you might bring harm to her charge.
"Ho,Ho." laughs the big smith. "You are likely right on that account miss." He winks and says, "Let's just say, my need to be moving on was great, and what the good lords don't know, won't harm their lofty pocket books too much." His laughter fills the air and you notice that some of the other settlers start to chuckle at the man's infectious humor. His slight jibe towards the Swordlords, striking a definite note of approval.
Warren walks silently along. When he manages to catch Thad's eye he gives him a smile and the thumbs up sign.
I couldn't afford a crossbow, but to have to do without food, times must be tough. I may actually feel sorry for the bandits; I think this group really knows their business.
"Aliana, I am told my mother was Brevoy nobility. Do you recognize her? This is all I have of her."
Warren tosses Aliana a small locket in a necklace. In it is a faded picture of a regal looking woman with blonde hair and blue eyes.
Zevac, as you offer prayers to Sarenrae, the girl continues to chatter on for a few minutes longer "What are you doing now? Praying? Who're you paying to? My mama and papa pray to Erastil. I guess Sarenrae's okay, she doesn't frighten me like some of the others. Isn't Sarenrae a healing goddess? why doesn't she heal those marks or make your skin a proper color? Seems silly to keep praying if she never listens..." Finally her sister reaches over and gives her a quick pinch.
"That's enough Sari, let the man alone for a bit." She takes the girl by the hand and gently pulls her back towards their seat in the wagon. "Sorry sir, once she gets going, she can go on for hours." She then turns back to her sister, hands her a little book, a small piece of chalk, and slate and says, "You should work on your numbers. If you want to help papa with the new farm you'll need to be able to work numbers in your head properly.
Sari glowers at her older sister for a few seconds, but does as she's told and soon enough is engrossed in the little book of mathematics. Her piece of chalk tapping lightly and quickly on the slate while her sister watches from the corner of her eye.
The small wagon train gets under way with a sense of anticipation, excitement and a hint of nervousness as the fear of the unknown weighs on some of the settlers minds. The creak, groan, and rattle of the wagons fill the air as Meyerso,n following behind the scouts, sets and easy, steady pace.
The weather continues to cooperate through the day, giving the sense that winter may be giving way to spring. The sun lights up the rolling hills of southern Brevoy, creating a scene of peaceful, rural beauty. Patches of green grass are already poking above the ground signalling that the cycle of the seasons continues to turn.
Close to Rostov the land is dotted with pleasant farms and small hamlets. The people are open and offer a friendly wave as you pass by. The smell of the baking bread wafts from many a farm house as do the sounds of children playing and men working. There is little indication that this is a land on the verge of civil war or dealing with intense lawlessness just a few days travel south.
After an uneventful day of travel, the sun begins to sink towards the western hills and Meyerson signals those in the lead to look for a good spot to camp.
Aliana catches the locket, opening it and gazing within. She was finding herself warming to the 'wild' man, now that he was opening up a bit. He seemed much more at ease once the group was underway, and his way with birds was quite impressive. Studying the picture, she purses her lips in thought trying to recollect... "She is very beautiful. I like the style of her hair. Brevoy you say?"
Finally, she shakes her head "I am sorry to say that I don't think I've had the pleasure of having met her, though I think I would like to, given the chance." Stretching over from her horse, she holds the necklace out for him to take back.
During one of the lulls in her conversation with Warren, Aliana turns to look over her shoulder at the wagon creaking along behind her. "Master Meyerson? May I inquire as to what brings you and your family on this trip to the Stolen Lands?"
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"No need to apologize for your sister, nor for being one's own self." Zavac states, a bit to sharp. A sigh, "As for Sarenrae, young one, we have come to an accord. She certainly is a healing Goddess, but that doesn't mean she hands out her powers freely." After a few moments of contemplation, the tapping of chalk on board filling the awkward silence, he added, There's always a price."
"Well, ladies, I believe I shall go for a bit of a walk. My legs are cramping."
With that, he hops off the wagon. (dex check ) His robe manages to catch on the edge of the wagon, and he falls, rolls off to the left, gathers himself together as the Smith's wagon passes by.
Maybe I should have watched where I was going, rather than trying to impress those two girls, he thinks to himself, whilst walking along now beside the loud Donal.
Warren takes back his locket and mumbles 'I don't know if I want to know'. After seeing Zavac stumble he nimbly jumps over and offers him a quick hand warily watching the spirited warhorse the entire time.
"Let's forage for some food Zavac, maybe we can find something for the cooking pot."
Survival
"If a new kingdom emerges, Zavac, I hope it respects nature. These wild lands are more exciting than the quiet settled lands of my mentor. Plus talking to only birds gets old."