Telsyn takes it and tries it out on Clyde.
Better?
Much better, thanks for the gift.
Bator nods with equanimity. "You're welcome."
I'll guard it carefully.
Clyde stands up and shakes his hand. Thanks for your help, I assume you know how to contact us? We'll certainly be keeping low for a bit.
He nods. "I do... but please, don't find me again; it's best if we work independently. Speak to Abrosh when he comes back if you need anything."
You step out onto the streets of Ostenso.
Once out on the streets, Clyde mutters to the others.So what will we do now? Lay low until we get some word?
Maybe for a day or two, anyway. Rest a bit, then we can poke around for something good to do.
Sounds good to me.
We've got a little coin. What say we go to the market tomorrow, and look for a good restaurant? I've been craving some good pie...
Orc Pie sounds good. Maybe some extra healing potions.
"Please don't tell me there's orc in the pie. Market sounds good. "
The day is duly spent in buying supplies so you don't have to subsist on Micah's cooking, hearty as it is, and in otherwise spending accumulated gold.
The next morning, as you rest after breakfast, a familiar dusty-booted figure walks into the tavern; Abrosh. He waves, and gestures you to follow him to the back room.
"I hear you've been busy since I was gone... good work. And, time for some more. I've got your first run."
We're ready. What do you have?
About time. What have you got for us?
He spreads out a map of Cheliax. "In three days' time at night, some crops from a Chelish battalion are coming in to a place called MacGready's farm. They'll be tired and need rest; the next evening, I need you to guide them to Brastlewark, my home. You'll need to take them across the Angel Ice; and get over it in a single day's travel. Handover is to a tiller named Balthazar out the back of the sign of the Red Gear. Organize food and anything else you can think of or that they say they'll need. They're counting on you, Bellflowers."
We'll need extra food. I can do some hunting but that will slow us down. How many..'ears of corn?' Perhaps a wagon as well if anyone is injured or can't travel.
Yes. We could get a wagon and load it with food.
Abrosh shakes his head. "No can do. You can't take the roads for the entire journey; you'll need to cut across land to dodge guardposts, patrols. Wagon won't do the job."
How many we escorting then?
"Got a haversack we can borrow to carry food then?"
I can chip in for a haversack
"Yeah, I think some method of being able to carry more is probably the best idea here. "
Very well. Let's see what we can find.
"They've been shaky with numbers, but five to seven. Most or all halfling." Abrosh looks up. "Any last questions before I go?"
"Then we plan in a safety factor on the rations. Can we expect pursuit?"
He shakes his head. "The route should keep you far from guard posts and the like. Unless you go looking for trouble, shouldn't be anyone following."
I don't have any more questions. We'll just go buy extra food then. Jetro makes plans to get blankets as well.
Telsyn will take 10 on any relevant check (19) to figure how much extra food we'll need for 8 halflings who need to move fast, along with ourselves.
Clyde also uses his survival skills to eyeball how much food and supplies will be needed
This includes Survivalist bonus to get along in the wild.
"Ok, let's go pool resources and find a cheap bag of holding or haversack. Bag is a little more expensive, but holds 3 times the weight. Since we're not eating in combat, I think it might be worth it. Would be 600 and change per. I got that, everyone else?"
I got a thousand.
Abrosh nods in approval. "Good luck." Abrosh describes the only real magic item shop in town not restricted to the military; a small emporium run out of a ship docked amid the Chelish navy. It should be safe to visit.
On your way there, you pass by the city's civic district, and you notice a few people walking curiously with you towards something, and others similarly approaching from the other direction. Trumps quickly draw your gaze as a small stage is hastily erected by a few guards and civic functionaries.
"Hear ye, hear ye! As Senior Magistrate of the city of Ostenso, by the grace of her imperial majesty the Empress, I hereby enact her proclamation. Whereas the great Feast of Enslavement is incoming, whereas the scourge of criminals and revolutionaries who would see Cheliax's rightful punishment defied has not ceased, whereas through a fresh scourging and interrogating can but inflame the populace with the rightful loyalty as to see them to their great reward in the afterlife; I hereby create the office of the Slavecatcher General. Guards and civil functionaries will be allocated as required, along with corollary rights and jurisdictions. And to lead this office, I appoint a man of great ancestry, late of service in the great Hellknight Order of the Chain, now called to her majesty's privilege; Helius Adom!"
A man in black Hellknight armour with no helmet and a red Chelish tabard, steps forward. "Greetings. While late of the Hellknights, be assured my loyalty is now to Cheliax, its empress and her citizens. I intend to pursue my duty with as much fervour and determination as my former brothers and sisters have pursued anything else. Be not afraid; the innocent have nothing to fear. For the escaped slave, the slave-freer and the collaborator; a fate worse than the deepest levels of hell will await thee!" The man's face goes purple as he clenches his fists before subsiding. "Investigation and success will begin soon. As my first act as Slavecatcher General, heading off further speeches and proclamations; I declare this gathering OVER!"
Turning around, he and his guards walk back into the court building quickly, leaving the other functionaries looking a little flummoxed; they eventually head back inside. The crowd disperses.
Eventually, you reach the ship. Henry draws a curiously remembering glance from a few passing navy soldiers. A young man with black hair and silver star and moon-sequinned robes steps out to sell you what you need.
Returning to Micah's after buying supplies and a mule named 'Agnes', you along the pass a familiar scene from before; a few kids spying a passing tiefling, scratching at some parchment then moving on from the befuddled outsider.
"I think the expectation of no pursuit may have changed. "
Best get moving then. I'd like to scope the town out to get some info on that guy, but time is a wasten Clyde loads up the mule
Yes, we'd best get moving right away. And, what's up with those kids and the tieflings? We'll have to wait on the answer to that too, I guess.
Unless someone has more things do , Clyde will start heading out to their goal.
As afternoon passes, the group is assembled; the mule named, the supplies bought. Crossing out into the grassy plains of eastern Cheliax, a hopeful sun shines in the sky before dipping below the horizon.
Later on the second day, taking the main road, you hear the clatter of hooves on stone as two horsemen approach. They heave to a few feet away. A red-bearded man in Chelish soldier armor and a tabard with a symbol of the Chelish crest bounded by chains. He raises a hand. "Afternoon, friends. Sergeant Digi, Slavecatcher regiment; may I ask your reason for travel this fine day?"
"Paid to take some supplies out for someone's hunting trip." Erick says, his voice mild with disgust. "Apparently some snot nosed brat thinks he's the best hunter to ever live, and his mother is afraid he'll starve while out proving it. So we get to put some food supplies on his intended route just in case for his retainer to 'find'." He rolls his eyes. "Needless to say, I can't tell you which 'mighty hunter' we're saving, but I'm sure you could guess."
Ayup. A 'canned hunt' one might say.
"Heh; well, all's fair if the pay's good." He shoots a curious glance at Clyde then pulls his reins. "Got more people to bother, so- good day." He and his men canter off.
The rest of the day passes calmly enough; eventually, a few miles after plains turn into farmland, a short manor comes into view, a great building of marble and worked stone bordered by bushes.
On a porch atop a wicker rocking chair, an old woman with bright white hair sips from a glass of green liquid. She raises a hand. "Howdy, folks. Passing by?"
Telsyn says nothing. He'll let the more loquacious speak.
Clyde tips his hat. Ayup, just looken to get where we're going, Miss..? Clyde fishes for a name.
Henry will remain low key, trying to just look like a hired hand.
"Abigail. Abigail MacGready." She takes a sip then stands with a quick yet creaking motion. "And I dare say you're the band of four heck-raisers I've been told to expect?"
I guess so, heard you need some help with your crops.