Dolgan Powderbeard, present and ready!
Does the caravan have its own protection( guards and such ?)
Tucking his charter and money away, Torin spends the little time he has before the caravan assembles to peruse the market and making a few last minute purchases.
Travelling gear in hand, he joins up with the caravan forming up at the city's gates and exchanges a few polite words with the drivers and guards already present.
Dolgan spends time creating black powder while he waits.
glory and wealth, or perhaps a path to a quick death…
As she approaches:"Good dawn to you recruits! I take it you are recipients of a missive of our Regent of the Dragonscale Throne?"
"I am Enora Ludvine of House Orlovsky and a Sister of Erastil. And you are?"
Dred rolls up the scroll and turns to the group, "Greetings all, I am Dred Delgath, disciple of Iomedae. I have come to expand the influence of Iomedae into the Greenbelt. I look forward to working with you to cleanse this land of evil. "
Dred closes his eyes and bows his head, "May Iomedae bless our sacred company and give us the power to persevere."
A small-ish Dwarf with unkempt and singed red hair walks up.
"'Lo! I'm Dolgan Powderbeard, formerly of the 6th Battalion of Stonebastion."
He seems totally unfazed when some leftover Black Powder blasts a hole in his pocket with a loud noise, destroying his charter in the process.
He holds out his hand in greetings, a crazed twinkle in his eye.
A tall amn with regal features turns at the mention of the charter.
" I am Sir Egon, vassal of House Orlovsky. My Order is in service to the Lady of Graves.
He shakes the dwarf's hand. Your sharp eyes will come in handy at night, Dolgan. I wish we had more like you. .
Torin nods a hello, "Torin of Brunderton at your service. Whatever our reasons, it seems that we will be travelling companion for this endeavour and I hope for our success."
Turning to Dred, "Thank you for your blessing. It will be good to have the Inheritor keeping a watchful eye upon us."
Torin nods a hello, "Torin of Brunderton at your service. Whatever our reasons, it seems that we will be travelling companion for this endeavour and I hope for our success."
Turning to Dred, "Thank you for your blessing. It will be good to have the Inheritor keeping a watchful eye upon us."
"Ah, yes! Always nice to have a Monk as a companion, and the blessings of one of the many gods on this blue world."
Dolgan laughs as he says this. He wiggles his finger through the hole in his pocket.
"Ohoho! Seems I'll need to invest in some cartridges. Can't have this happening again."
The faint sound of hooves beating upon the road grows louder. Approaching from the distance, a cloaked horseman trots at a modest pace towards the gathered company of new companions. A staff rests upon his lap, and several bags ostensibly contain some gear within.
The hooded rider gradually slows his andalusian's pace to a halt as he nears the gate. The horse's dusty black shins and flaring black nostrils, taking in deep calming breaths after its long trek, provide sharp contrast to its otherwise white body.
Gently patting the tired horse's neck, he glances around at the caravan company for a few moments, taking it all in from several dozen feet away. As they make their introductions, the hooded rider silently observes and listens.
The andalusian then begins a slow gait towards the two dwarves and the three humans they are engaged in conversation with. Removing his tan cloak's hood, the rider reveals himself to be half-elven, obvious from his distinguishing ears and thin goatee. Bearing a calm, warm visage, he turns his head to make eye contact with each from horseback. He then greets them all with a slight bow, politely holding his right hand over his chest as he does so.
"Hail, friends. Aldarion, at your service."
Sir Egon frowns at the sight of the newcomer's scrutiny of the party and the cravan.
"Well met. We have a lotof work ahead of us. There's a large garden with a lot of "weeds" to pull out."
Dred nods approvingly at the group,"We are destined for greatness, my friends. Are we ready to move out?"
"Greatness would be a pleasant fate, but I would settle for a successful trip. If we are all here and everyone is prepared, let's help with the caravan and be off."
With that, Torin will go to poke about the wagons, helping out as necessary.
”High Above Sir Egon, it is good to see House Orlovsky well represented in this endeavor”
“Delgath, may Erastil and Iomedae both bless our journey and help our people.”
”Well said Torin, it sounds like this endeavour could use some Dwarven pragmatism to tamper our ambitions.”
”That’s a fine looking companion, Aldarion.”
”Did the black stuff keep you in or out of the Battalion, Dolgan?”
Enora proceeds to introduce herself to the guards and review their station.
"Thank you for allowing us to tag along. I doubt we will have any trouble on the road with such a large party as this."
"Well then, we should get going, eh?"
Aldarion replies to the regal man, indicating his weeding analogy bears literal truth, "Gardening indeed, Sir Egon. It seems the Lords of Restov deemed it wise to include a master gardener amidst the agents' ranks."
The rider waits a very short moment for his pun to take hold, perhaps causing the traveling companions-to-be to wonder what noble imbecile thought it wise to send a mere gardener to tame the Stolen Lands. Tame the crops, perhaps, but bandits and other dangers?
His facial expression then cracks into a smile.
'I really shouldn't jest. I only make myself laugh more often than not, she used to tell me.'
"In fact the worst the nobility can be accused of in my case is to ensure that you do not die from some wild disease, nor lose your way. Easy enough to do where we're going, or so the trees tell me."
To Enora's response to Torin concerning pragmatism, "Agreed, the road to greatness is taken but one step at a time."
He replies to Enora's compliment of his steed with a smile, and while stroking his horse's mane, "This is Besoneth, or Bessy if you will. My loyal companion. She was a gift..."
Aldarion's voice trails off. His eyes become unfocused and distant, as if looking into the past.
He returns to the present when the party is informed about the caravan's imminent departure, nodding in thanks to the merchant for her announcement.
To Dolgan, "Quite ready, Master Dolgan. All appears to be in order. We are ready when everyone else is."
Bessy releases a concurring snort.
Sir Egon smiles. This kind of dark humor is common amongst his Order.
He mounts his horse and takes up position besides the caravan.
Dolgan hops onto one of the caravan wagons.
can't be scarin' the horse out from under me.
”High Above Sir Egon, it is good to see House Orlovsky well represented in this endeavor”
“Delgath, may Erastil and Iomedae both bless our journey and help our people.”
”Well said Torin, it sounds like this endeavour could use some Dwarven pragmatism to tamper our ambitions.”
”That’s a fine looking companion, Aldarion.”
”Did the black stuff keep you in or out of the Battalion, Dolgan?”
Enora proceeds to introduce herself to the guards and review their station.
[dice=Profession (soldier)]1d20+4
"Out, m'lady, I'm sad ta say. My superiors didn't like it, ta put it mildly. They preferred crossbows - actually think they can peirce armor better than a gun!"
Dolgan spits as he says the last part, obviously remembering some bitter moments.
Smiling back at the knightly Sir Egon,
Dolgan gets out of the caravan wagon, heartened by the smell of food from the main hall.
"Aye, lass, we are the ones. But more importantly: what kinds of spirits do ye have?"
Egon turns to the lady "Yes, we are. You seem stressed. Is something wrong ?"
Tugging on the bridle, Torin looks for a place to stable his mule,
"Less adventurers and more well armed chartered surveyors, but you mentioned guards. Were you expecting some? We would know if you have being experiencing any trouble. I have a feeling that your fine establishment will be becoming our base of operations for our exploration of the Greenbelt and I would hate for trouble to befall you while we are out in the wilderness."
As the caravan approaches, the cloaked half-elven man takes in the entirety of the fort. He then observes the features within the fort as he enters. Of particular interest, he seeks for a stable for Bessy, as well as noting the thatcher above and the woman Svetlana who now greets them with both warmth and... disappointment?
Aldarion listens keenly to Svetlana's words, his ears and eyes perking up at the mention of her expectation of guards. 'Have the bandits we were forewarned about been troubling this poor woman? Or does some other danger threaten her, I wonder?'
He dismounts and pats Bessy, keeping bridle in his hand, and then gently bows to Svetlana with a modest smile, hand over heart, "Aldarion, at your service."
With Sir Egon and Torin taking the lead in querying the gracious woman, he for now quietly observes Svetlana's facial and body language for cues of her emotional state and motivations as she responds.
Dred will walk around the perimeter of the building looking for anything suspicious.
Perception:
Upon entry he will introduce himself, "Greetings, I am Dred Delgath, humble servant of Iomedae. Anything that you can tell us about the Greenbelt would be appreciated."
Diplomacy:
"Come on, men, lighten up! There's alcohol in here!"
Egon's mood sours. He would like to ask more questions, but he can''t refuse an invitation from a lady, especially not one who is his host.
Egon's mood sours. He would like to ask more questions, but he can''t refuse an invitation from a lady, especially not one who is his host.
Placing a gentle hand on Svetlana’s. ”Thank you my lady for the bountiful hospitality. This place is magnificent.
As Dred walks the trading post's perimeter, one of the half-elf's eyebrows raises upwards. He remarks to Svetlana and whomever is nearby in a soft tone, "A most curious fellow, is he not?"
Aldarion nods at Svetlana's invitation to dinner. "Smells delightful. With your permission, I will first settle in my horse. In return, I have beans, nuts, ...some tobacco, a pound of garlic... whatever you think is fair."
To Dolgan, he simply smiles at his comment about alcohol. 'Dwarves and drinks... they do go hand in hand, don't they?'
The forest sage agrees with Enora's favorable judgement of the old fort, "Quite."
Dred nods,"Yes food would be good. We will require rooms for the night also."
"I'll need to stable my mule as well."
As they walk across the court Torin nods towards the man kneeling on the roof, "Might that be eponymous Oleg?"
Aldarion mildly smiles at Svetlana's humor, following her into the dining room with the others. He takes his seat at the table.
'Beef... ah well, such is the way of things. How to put this delicately...' When offered stew, Aldarion apologetically informs Svetlana, "I would love to. But, forgive me, it is part of my tradition to abstain from consuming animal flesh." He takes a piece of bread and some cheese with a smile, however. "Please, do not feel bad. I can eat bread, and cheese, and indeed these are quite the treat for me." '...considering I have subsisted on berries alone for the past few days. No fruit for me tonight, thank you.'
The sage's expression turns to a mild frown as Svetlana tells her tale. "Svetlana, I am most disheartened to hear of your woes." He pauses a bit in thought, then, "And when might the ruffians be due for their next visit?"
The meal tastes as wonderful as it smells and Torin has no qualms about sampling deeply from it.
"The food is superb. My compliments to the chef."
At Aldarion's question, Torin nods, "Yes, please tell us more. We have nothing particularly pressing to do at the moment and I have a tendency to take threats against those who have fed me very seriously."
Egon grins. "How shall we deal with them ? Take them prisoner, or enact capital punishment ? I prefer the first. Some of them may still be redeemable."
Dred gives Oleg a scathing look, "Sir, I assure you that we can handle ourselves in combat. These bandits must be taught to respect the law".
To the group, "We must confront these bandits tomorrow."
"So, they could come here with only two people, eh? What if they see the caravan? D'ya think they'll bring more?"
“Your story makes me think they showed their full force on the first showdown as well. That may play to our advantage if they are truly a dozen. Oleg, Svetlana pay your dues to them as required so that no suspicion will fall upon you from any foolish act on our behalf.
Justice should be served Dred, but perhaps we should not underestimate these bandits and allow these brave folks a chance should we fail…
Gentlemen, it does not mean that other bandits would not fall upon these bandits. I suggest that we ambush these men upon their return to their camp, we let one flee so that they do not suspect Oleg or Svetlana and we capture another to lead us back to their main camp. They will send out men to investigate. If they always divide their men we should always outnumber them. Once at the ambush, a second time at their camp, and a third time at their camp when their men return from investigating. Thoughts?”
Torin spends a moment glancing over his charter papers before tucking them back away.
"We have the authority to take these bandits to task. I don't mind the idea of an ambush, but I don't care for trying to ambush them on the road. Too many variables. Too many things that could go wrong. I say we set it up here. If we let them in and spring a trap, we could turn the courtyard into a killing ground. If they are smart, they will surrender in short order and we can find out where their camp is. Barring that, I can always just follow their back trail."
Dred nods at Torin. "Yes, I think dealing with them here is best. Enora, they will retaliate against the outpost regardless of where we confront them. If we use the element of surprise we should be able to take at least one of them alive. We then need to quickly track them back to their strong hold and deal with the larger group before they can retaliate against the Oleg and Svetlana."
I'm considering challenging this man to a non-lethal duel, to bash some sense into him, and because he insulted us.