Orono sits quietly with her hands in her lap, watching the innkeeper Doris side-eye. Though she apparently has ideas, she remains silent while others are already addressing the staff.
Roscoe considers saying something but eyes the cougar and thinks better if it. He looks to Doris once again, "I would be glad for a room, laundry is a good idea but useless if one cannot get a bath."
"Miss Doris, do you know if the goblins have a hideout around anywhere? If so, where might it be?"
"Oh, I guess so, dearie. Probably more than one, as there's different tribes, and they loves goin' to war against each other when there's no-one else to fight."
"And if goblins isn't enough for you, there's bandits on the road leadin' up to the dwarven cities - that's why we don't get many dwarf caravans comin' down anymore. And one o' the groups brought back a dead spider from the woods last year - size of a cow it was - they said they'd seen many more. And Zeke the goatherd swears he saw a dragon down in the Valley. Probably been smokin' that dullweed again, but somethin's been carryin' off the odd goat and sheep."
When Minah asks for a room to herself, Doris eyes her cat suspiciously.
"As you like, Miss, but no animals on the beds, please. And make sure they do their business outside."
The mountains ringing the Valley, and the walls ringing the Keep, mean that darkness comes early to the Bree-Yark Inn. That, the full bellies from the stew, the alcohol, and the long tiring days on the road take their toll, and heads begin to nod. Doris announces that the rooms are ready, and baths are available in the kitchen for one silver each, including soap and towel.
"Not sure about you lot, but I'm lookin' forward to a bed ain't on the rocky ground for a change." Blaughter says after finishing the stew and drink. "You mentioned being shy 'o coin?" He asks Margut. "I been known ta snore like dwarf, and I'll likely be up and down half the night goin' out to have a piss, but if ye can put up with that I'd be happy to share a room with ya and handle the bill tell we start pullin' in coin on our merry venture."
Assuming Margut consents...
"I ever tell you about that Shoanti wedding I went to? The one where the stray dog ended up on fire? Harh! Was that a sight..."
Roscoe pays 3 gold for the wine and accommodations. He stays incase anything exciting happens once things die down he excuses himself. "Well I will see you all in the morning. I am going to rinse off the road."
He heads to the kitchen for a bath and then to his room and separates what could be laundered. He turns in and thoroughly enjoys his comfy bed.
Though he is not one for small talk, the hobgoblin makes sure to bring up some practical matters before the others go to bed—or drink themselves into a stupor.
Once Doris has left the table, he looks at the would-be mercenaries and growls, "What are your specialisations?"
Margût nods acceptingly at Blaughter. While he is still distrustful of his new companions, he realises that he is not in a position to refuse. The hobgoblin turns out to be a good listener—if not much of a conversationalist—at least in that he knows not to insult the human that is paying for his upkeep.
Henris takes care to limit himself to a single ale - too much alcohol clouds the mind and fouls the body.
As Margût asks about specializations, Henris smiles and says, "I happen to be somewhat skilled at crafting jewelry, although I suspect that to not be particularly useful in this case. I have some magical capabilities, as well as not being a terrible shot with this," he indicates the crossbow, "and I am somewhat knowledgeable on a variety of topics."
He will look at the rest and ask, "How shall the rest of us divvy up sleeping accommodations?"
Orono shrugs and supplies the requisite coinage. "I am not picky, but wandering hands get bit."
To Margût she says, "You've already seen what I do."
To the group she finishes with, "Perhaps in the morning we should scout the surrounding terrain. If we do see anything promising, we can come back for a charter. If there's no sign of anything but rabbits and grass, why spend all the money beforehand?"
Though he is not one for small talk, the hobgoblin makes sure to bring up some practical matters before the others go to bed—or drink themselves into a stupor.
Once Doris has left the table, he looks at the would-be mercenaries and growls, "What are your specialisations?"
Roscoe grins at Margut's question he looks shocked at Orono's warning even though she had not singled him out. He looks at both his hands as if reassuring himself that they are where they should be.
He nods at the scouting things out idea. "Well other than my distinguishing time spent with the Free Companies . . . yesh what a name, I was all but conscripted. Well sure I volunteered. . . I mean I needed to travel so traveling with soldiers seemed safe back in the heartlands." He sighs and leans back in his chair but returns to his gripe session. "They barely paid me anything extra to cook for them. Anyway I can cook. But like our enchanted jeweler professor here I have other skills. I have been a scout, I made it out of my share of combats, out alive I mean." He looks around at the others, "And I can get a hold of things that um people would prefer to keep. But only bad people you know bullies, enemies, poor tippers, and such."
To Margut, "Been a soldier of some sort or another all m'life. Got pretty good at holdin' the line, makin' sure no enemies get past and tryin' to harass our back line. Helps bein'at I'm too fat ta run! Harh harh harh! Other than that, I took ta the gods more recently, so sometimes I pray to the Great Dreamer, an sometimes I'm lucky enough she answers."
To Orono's suggestion "After a good night's rest, an' somethin' warm ta eat in the morning, I'd be happy as a peach to go scoutin' about 'afore we drop any coin."
To Margut, "Been a soldier of some sort or another all m'life. Got pretty good at holdin' the line, makin' sure no enemies get past and tryin' to harass our back line. Helps bein'at I'm too fat ta run! Harh harh harh! Other than that, I took ta the gods more recently, so sometimes I pray to the Great Dreamer, an sometimes I'm lucky enough she answers."
"A holy man . . . not my first guess." He takes a drink. "Does 'the Great Dreamer' keep creepy undeadish things away?"
Houk hands over his 8 silver to the miss Doris
"For laundry as well please, i'll bring it down when I get settled in my room.. who's up for rooming... ?
After listening to people revealing their specializations he sits down near the fire puts his feet up and says
"Well me I'm good with a Star Knife, I can ride a horse well and I can smith weapons, i'm not great but I can do a bit"
Orono fixes Roscoe with a stare and says, "Are you afraid of spiders?"
"Been a soldier of some sort or another all m'life."
"Well me I'm good with a Star Knife, I can ride a horse well and I can smith weapons."
Margût nods at both Blaughter and Houk, clearly approving of their claimed martial prowess. Of course, whether or not they could match their boasts was another question entirely...
"I have some magical capabilities..."
The hobgoblin scoffs skeptically, looking Henris up and down. "Elf-magic?"
"You've already seen what I do."
Shaking his head, Margût bares his teeth at the hunter. "Walk around holding a bow? Yes, very impressive..."
"Well other than my distinguishing time spent with the Free Companies . . . yesh what a name, I was all but conscripted. Well sure I volunteered. . . I mean I needed to travel so traveling with soldiers seemed safe back in the heartlands." He sighs and leans back in his chair but returns to his gripe session. "They barely paid me anything extra to cook for them. Anyway I can cook. But like our enchanted jeweler professor here I have other skills. I have been a scout, I made it out of my share of combats, out alive I mean." He looks around at the others, "And I can get a hold of things that um people would prefer to keep. But only bad people you know bullies, enemies, poor tippers, and such."
The hobgoblin rubs his temples and lets out a low growl. "You talk a lot, but say little."
Orono fixes Roscoe with a stare and says, "Are you afraid of spiders?"
"Fools and the diluted do not fear what can kill them. In this very room there are many spiders not a few probably under this very table. They do not worry me much." Roscoe looks toward Orono's pet. "That one is 3 or 4 times the size of spiders whose bite can make a very potent poison. But I also know it follows your commands and I have nothing but respect for that spider's mistress." Roscoe takes a sip of wine, "You frighten the hell out of me."
The hobgoblin rubs his temples and lets out a low growl. "You talk a lot, but say little."
Roscoe responds dryly and bows his head, "You did ask specialties."
"Good," says Orono to Roscoe, "We can split a room." She takes a small, careful sip of a spoonful of her stew.
"Good," says Orono to Roscoe, "We can split a room." She takes a small, careful sip of a spoonful of her stew.
Roscoe smiles and nods toward Orono, "My father, gods rest his soul, would be aghast if I failed to host a lady."
Roscoe smiles and nods toward Orono, "My father, gods rest his soul, would be aghast if I failed to host a lady."
Orono's eyebrows go up slightly and she tilts her head to one side as if to say I am no lady, but she doesn't say it, just thinks it strongly enough that Roscoe gets the point.
"A holy man . . . not my first guess." He takes a drink. "Does 'the Great Dreamer' keep creepy undeadish things away?"
"Hah, all manner of men follow Desna my friend, all manner..." He seems to drift back into his thoughts and memories briefly, before he shakes himself out of it. "As for the undead...I can help out in that regard in'a few different ways."
The group is roused early the next morning by the sound of clattering pans in the kitchen, and the wafting smell of toasting bread and frying eggs. Doris bustles about serving breakfast, and Joe is already performing a morning inspection of the ale.
It seems that breakfast in the Inn is quite a popular affair, with various locals popping in for eggs and toast, although this mainly seems to be an excuse to get a look at the new arrivals, and especially the more exotic among them.
Several small groups of soldiers, obviously just off the night watch, are having an ale and some food before bed. Also, in one corner, a tall blonde man in an officer’s uniform has set up a table with a ledger and pen and ink. It soon becomes clear that this is a daily surgery, where the military and civilian parts of the Keep meet. A couple of locals bring minor complaints or requests to the offier, and he also spends a long time in conversation with the caravan master, working out payments for supplies and future orders.
After a while he approaches the group as they are eating.
“Moring. Freeswords eh? Heard there was a new group arrived. I’m Captain Willis and you will find me or one of my Lieutenants here most mornings. Just wanted to make sure we all understood each other. Rules of the Keep are simple. Don’t obstruct the soldiery in any way, the inner courtyard and its buildings are off-limits without a military escort, and if the general alarm sounds, grab a weapon and obey the orders of the nearest person in a uniform. Apart from that you can come and go as you please. Any booty brought back to the keep – including coin, treasure, gear, equipment, mounts or trade goods or similar – should be reported here the next morning, and is subject to a thirty per cent salvage tax. Let’s just say we don’t take kindly to those that accept the protection of the Keep but try to avoid paying their way. If you want a Freesword’s Charter, it’s 500 gold for the year – the advantage of that is that we’ll share intelligence with you, and expect you to do the same, and that the salvage tax drops to ten per cent. Any questions?”
Minah, apparently already awake, walks into the Bree-Yark and takes in the scene. Her cougar, Sasha, has been sent out on a morning hunt and Minah likes the smell of the breakfast as well as the bustle of people in the busy inn. She greets the locals, Doris and Joe in good measure and waits for the others to arrive as she scarfs down her plate of food.
She nods at the Captain's words in understanding, then looks to the group. "I hope everyone got the rest they needed. What say we set out his morning after everyone has broken their fast and have a look around?"
As is his wont, Henris arose with the dawn to begin his morning exercises and calisthenics, as quietly as possible so he wouldn't disturb Houk. Once finished, he sat down on the bed to begin studying his spellbook, ignoring the sounds of pots banging and smells of food while he did so. After he was done with that, he finished dressing and went downstairs to eat his breakfast.
Greeting the others, he listened to the Captain's speech and said, "No questions, Captain. Thank you for your hospitality."
He nods agreement to Minah's suggestion, his mouth full of egg and toast.
Roscoe grumbles burying his head deeper in his pillows. He tries to return to slumber but the noise and sounds of life outside grate on him till he sighs and gets dressed.
He makes his way down stairs, he hears the lay of things from the lieutenant. "I wonder is there a map with recent markings which can give an overview of the lands where known caves lie or other sites of note."
Roscoe joins the others and digs into breakfast. "Do we want to head straight out the gates perhaps we could get a feel for things talking to the locals."
https://drive.google.com/file/d/0Bzm2DNZNJqxnaVh2NTFwcXBXYmc/view?usp=shari ng
The captain tears a sheet of paper out of his ledger and quickly sketches a rough map. ”The valley is about 10 miles long – the river goes down the middle mostly – turns into a swamp here where it’s blocked by these three small hills, then flows northward. Apparently it empties into a cave system somewhere to the northeast. The road, such as it is, follows the river for the most part, crosses it at the Old Bridge – be careful, the stones are loose – and then goes south, up towards the Dwarven lands. My men patrol the road, and we have a small outpost where it leaves the valley, but apart from that it’s wild country, I’m afraid. Could be anything out there.”
He ponders for a moment – “For what it’s worth, goblinoid activity seems to be centered around the northeast – may be related to some of those caves, but I don’t have the men to investigate. And as for ‘lost Quasqueton, which everyone seems interested in – well, those woods are thick – could be anywhere.”
Roscoe looks at the crude map stifling a complaint at its crudeness. The man nice enough to share info after all. Even if he draws like a toddler. Roscoe asks a few questions, "This square in the upper that is the keep? or the outpost?" He points to the square.
Roscoe rolls up the map, "Thank you friend you have been a help. Oh is there anyone in particular you would want to speak to around here if you where heading out on such an expedition." He thinks a moment, "Are we the only team risking this venture at this time? Are there any who have returned that are still around."
"That's the Keep" confirms the captain. "You're the only group of freeswords so far this season, but it's early yet. Most years we get a few. A few years back we got none."
He fidgets, like he is tired of this conversation.
"If you invest in a charter, the Castellan has authorized me to share the reports of my sergeants when they come back off patrol. So you will know pretty much what we do."
"Well I am sure you have other duties."
At breakfast with the others Roscoe suggests, "Catering to treasure hunters and the taxes they bring seem to be a business here, though a struggling one. Like tourists. Officially we get more info if we buy a Freesword Charter." Roscoe leans forward, "There is a pawn broker. If there is someone who wishes teams bring back more salvage its him. He might have good info and seeing as he does not profit from the Castilian's charter system at least not directly he might be willing to talk before we have a charter."
Houk is sitting at the table and hewing into a large plate of breakfast.
He listens and clears his mouth of food..
"Well done Roscoe in getting a map and information."
Blaughter rises fairly early, and spends a surprising amount of time in his shared room exercising, mostly stretches and the like...and is quite limber for a man of his girth. When done, if Margut is awake the old soldier gives him a wink, "Secret to a long life may be heavy armor and a longer weapon than yer enemy, but that there'll keep ye young forever. Now, are you as ready ta eat as I am friend?"
He heads downstairs, joining up with the rest of the "freeblades" in time for Roscoe's break down of the situation.
Minah looks over the map with Roscoe, nods her thanks to the captain and clears her throat."Well, the caves to the northeast seem like a good place to start after we've spoken with the pawnbroker or whomever else we deem necessary. We could follow the road and then head due north. Unless someone else has different ideas, the caves sound like fun to me! Are there any supplies we need before we set out, caves or otherwise?"
"We should perhaps ensure we have adequate light sources. I know a cantrip to create such, but it is best to have something to cast it on. I know us Humans cannot see in the dark. We should also make sure we have adequate arrows and bolts - it would not do to run out of such in the middle of the forest."
"Did the captain have torches . . . you know for standard issue." He rumages through his back, "yes I have 10 torches. Oh an chalk." He looks over the top of his pack stifling his surprise at what is in his own pack.
Orono seems a bit surprised that the captain is so forthcoming with information.
"Good man, Roscoe," she says as the halfling produces his surprising supplies. "With luck, at some point we'll run across other local hunters or trappers who know the area and can point out other features. For now, this is an excellent start."
Blaughter rises fairly early, and spends a surprising amount of time in his shared room exercising, mostly stretches and the like...and is quite limber for a man of his girth. When done, if Margut is awake the old soldier gives him a wink, "Secret to a long life may be heavy armor and a longer weapon than yer enemy, but that there'll keep ye young forever. Now, are you as ready ta eat as I am friend?"
The hobgoblin is up at the first light of the morning, his bed made in a military fashion. He seems silently appreciative of the senior warrior's morning regimen, though his own seems to consist mostly of leafing through an old, scorched book with tattered pages, and rifling through a wooden case filled with a variety of flasks and vials. The substances stored therein smell foul, filling the room with the stench of sulfur and worse.
Once he has put away his alchemical equipment and geared up, Margût follows Blaughter downstairs, seemingly eager to be out on a mission.
"We should perhaps ensure we have adequate light sources."
"I have fire," Margût states laconically, gesturing at the numerous stoppered vials on his person.
The weather seems much improved as the day at the Keep begins. It becomes clear how much life there resembles a small village or hamlet, rather than a military base. The civilians raise animals, pasture them near the Keep, hunt rabbits and game birds, and even have a number of vegetable gardens and barley fields sheltered from the wind in the lea of the Keep's walls. That morning, there is a great fuss as a number of wooden beehives are loaded onto handcarts, ready to be placed around the Keep to access the first spring flowers - it seems that honey is a valuable product for the Keep, much desired by the infrequent dwarven traders for making mead and sweet cakes.
The weather seems much improved as the day at the Keep begins. It becomes clear how much life there resembles a small village or hamlet, rather than a military base. The civilians raise animals, pasture them near the Keep, hunt rabbits and game birds, and even have a number of vegetable gardens and barley fields sheltered from the wind in the lea of the Keep's walls. That morning, there is a great fuss as a number of wooden beehives are loaded onto handcarts, ready to be placed around the Keep to access the first spring flowers - it seems that honey is a valuable product for the Keep, much desired by the infrequent dwarven traders for making mead and sweet cakes.
Once breakfast finishes Roscoe thanks Doris and leaves her with another gold for all her help. "I am going to check the pawn broker if any one wants to buy anything."
Outside he notes the activity. "Hope no one is allergic to bees."
Roscoe is friendly and greets folks as he moves about. He makes his way to the pawn shop. He walks in and starts to look around at what is for sale.
"I'll go with you," says Orono. "We might spot something we didn't think of in the first place and realize that we need it." She saunters along with Roscoe.
"I get along all right with bees," she says casually. "I like honey. They like flowers. We understand each other in that way."
"I, too, shall accompany you. The pawn broker might have some curiosities that could be useful."
Houk quickly cleans himself off and jumps up to follow Roscoe, Orono and Henrris out..
"I'll come as well"
He quickly remembers that it's Orono and looks around for the spider aSs he is going out the door
The spider is, once again, huddled in Orono's pack, occasionally peeking out like a Halloween horror trap.
The pawnbroker,indicated by the three rather tarnished golden balls that hang outside it, is in one corner of the square, between the Provisioner and the carpenter. Unlike the other shops its front windows are boarded over, with lettering painted on them:
Lisker's Financial Services
Monies Advanced
Valuables Stored
Items of Quality
Bought and Sold
A bell tinkles as the door is opened, revealing a moderately lit interior. A glass-topped display table dominates one end of the room, with a curtained doorway behind it. There are a few chairs for customers, and at a side table two off-duty soldiers play cards.
Behind the display table, a tall, thin mad with a neatly trimmed dark goatee rises, and smiles broadly.
"Ah, the new arrivals, I presume. I heard you were here - I wondered when we might become acquainted. Welcome, welcome. I can assure you that I am here to make your life easier. Lisker's offers a full range of financial services - from purchasing and trading goods, money changing to storing of valuables. So how may I be of service today?"
Roscoe looks around and returns the smile, "You must be Lisker. Greetings. We are considering heading into the wild here abouts. Thought for sure this would be a good spot for used gear. We would love to see what you have to sell. I always figured used quality items had more history. A story to them, where did they come from what adventures have they seen?"
"Indeed" says Lisker, a broad smile spreading across his face. "Of course, I keep a selection of items likely to be of interest to... pioneering types like yourself, although my esteemed neighbour Mr Branston who runs the General Store may also be able to meet your needs. I tend to deal in higher value items, whereas his stock is more... everyday. But please, I have a stocklist here for your perusal - bulky items I keep in storage. Also, may I draw all of your attention to a selection of fine items and unredeemed pledges that I have available for sale." He gestures to the glass-topped display case, where a number of items like on a velvet cloth.
On the stocklist he eagerly hands round is written, in a neat hand:
1 set studded leather armour, human sized, chased with silver
2 cases fine Taldan wine, 4709AR vintage
1 canteen of silver cutlery, with unidentified crest
1 carved sandalwood footchest, laquered with Tian designs
1 set of six matched well-balanced throwing daggers
1 horse bridle, decorated with brasses
1 medical kit (assorted, partially used)
1 lady's vanity case, silk lined, with cosmetics, mirror and perfumes
2 sets of white robes, plus gloves and cowls, suitable for Drumite wear
1 set gemcrafting tools, including assorted wire and mountings
Assorted books of poetry and special interest literature (adults only, viewing by appointment)
He smiles and shrugs apologetically "I do purchase metal arms and armour, but much of it goes to supply the Keep's soldiers, or is repurposed by my colleague, Jones the Smith. It keeps him busy over the winter, you see."
"You have a very interesting selection." Roscoe looks Henris' way, "There are jewelers tools here professor." He looks the brokers way, "A very diverse collection, I wonder did all of these things come from the surrounding caves and rumored lost wizards. Any hunting tips locations that proved profitable that may not have been completely explored."
"A fascinating collection," says Orono. "I presume their former owners went into the wild and never returned?"
"As I currently have my own set of jeweler's tools, I don't believe I shall need to purchase any new ones at this time. However, I shall keep that in mind."
