BAHH,no horse, need a good pig. Here. Ivan tosses his recently Received purse to the man.
Banded mail if ye please. Ain't got to be the top notch stuff, just need some better armor ifin' I'm to be fighitng orcs and lizards again. Also if ye could find me a good hammer, and a bit more rope I'd be appreciative
Shandor smiles warmly at Malin. I would love to buy the acid, about how many are you able to procure?
Looking over to Jasper, Shandor agrees with the price of the good fire. I’ll take two of those if you can find them. I wouldn’t want to be without them if we come across a swam.
As the evening sun sets in the tavern after an evening meal of generous proportions, the leader of the merchants sighs and waves Emerald over. The half elven female sits down and steeples her hands together.
"We have a tough month haul ahead of us. We may look back on tonight and appreciate shelter and food like this."
Jasper smiles as he drinks up and finishes a whole chicken.
Malin adds: "We will leave at first light. I am turning in."
Jasper bids his goodbye to the lady and promises to see her in the morning. As Ivan takes one final drink from his tankard, he sees the bill for dinner and drinks under his tankard. It amounts to about 6 gold pieces.
Ivan looks at the bill over the top of his mug as he drains the last bit. Then flips two gold pieces onto the table.
Welp, There's more than I hads worth, welcome to the life as a group Lads and lasses. I'm off to bed. mmmrgmm, ate to bloody much, as if to punctuate his statement he lets out a rather large belch. He turns towards the "elf prince" and says good night, ye lordship he slurs it to the point it might be taken as sarcastic and insulting, or it could just be the drinks can't quite be sure. Ivan will stand and head off to his room, then stumbles right into a locked door, having forgotten his was one more down the hall.
DANGIT, YE BLOODY DOOR OPEN UP I TOLD YE! Ivan shakes the handle furiously, to the point you think it might fall off
When a very disgruntled man opens the door and glowers at the dwarf Ivan's eyes widen.
BY TORAG'S BEARD! What are ye doin' in me room! the dwarf argues with the man for a few seconds before the inn keeper politely as possible reminds him his room was a door down.
Ivan looks a tad embarrassed but merely says. bah but don't all these durned doors look the same. Hows a dwarf supposed to tell the difference dangit. I tell ye, make me a bearded gnome... He gives a slight apology to the man and makes his way on down, muttering the whole while.
You awake early to make it to the stables where the wagons are getting outfitted. The three large wagons are each being hooked to a pair of strong horses. Each carries a rough looking teamster and one of the merchants. The three wagons are being loaded with a variety of goods and boxes by Taldan soldiers.
The rutted and ill-used road to the east beckons
Lorkan rises before first light and completes his meditations outside as he greets the sunrise. Upon arriving at the stable and seeing the wagons, Lorkan looks about for the other members of the squad, before approaching the merchants. "Sarenrae's blessing be with us. May I sit with you today?"
Those of you who purchased horse, see that they are being readied for travel. A blacksmith is checking the equipment, a groomsman is finishing up feeding the horses, and Emerald is checking each of the light riding horses. She looks up as you approach.
"These horses should do nicely. They are the same Taldan couriers ride in war."
Iscarel's face sours as he notices Jasper talking about his royal crest. "... why, the bastard's up and stolen my trick. That's worked on every tavern wench from here to Cassomir."
"You'll forgive me if I tell you that I'd rather walk. If I'm to be bouncing around and bruising my undercarriage I can think of several ways I'd rather do it. But if you truly insist on making me suffer..." he smirks, reaching blindly for his harp. "More wine! Perhaps a song, for the lovely Emerald?" he says, winking at his new rival. "Don't think you escaped my notice, milady. What's it to be? A Taldan operetta? An elven ballad? A reel from Sanos Forest or some bawdy Riddleport rag? Hold, I know..."
125gp light horse and paraphernalia
32gp shortbow and arrows
20gp 2x acid
Pash passes the caravan merchant 5 gold and a smile. "I might not be tall, my good man, but I do enjoy my meals. That should cover my share."
Winking at Jasper (Well done winning the drinking contest, Cayden Cailean would appprove.) and taking his leave, Pash attempts to get a decent night's sleep.
In the morning he rises bright and early and meets with the others.
"Well, not to draw out our goodbyes, but I hope everyone has everything... it may be a while before we see this place again."
A troop of ten Taldan medium cavalry approach and salute Malin. The leader speaks after lowering his visor and exposing his noble beard.
"We will be escorting you for a day. Our patrol coincides with your route."
The first days journey begins with a surprise. Jasper waves the group down, and seeing the troop of cavalrymen, smiles and asks for a ride. "You appear to be going the same way as I am." he adds.
Camping for the night, a roaring fire and a large field kitchen is set up. A roast pig is cooked stuffed with flavorful nuts as Emerald supervisors two teamsters as they turn the pig.
The cavalrymen share some of the pig and continue their patrol eager to get free of the caravan. The Taldans salute and depart, having said no more than ten words between them.
Emerald takes out a thin flute, and begins to play a haunting melody as the teamsters clean up after the evening meal. The ride on the wagons has been quite comfortable, and their are actually well made springs to keep the wagon ride from being bouncy.
Malin jokes as he gestures with a sweeping arm movement to the group naturally gathered around the fire. "This is where we bond and cry and form a lasting friendship over emotional stories of our lives. Or not." He laughs with a deep baritone laugh.
not long after the meal, you can here quite a lord snoring coming from one of the wagons, with merely a note, hastily written laying next to ivan on his hammer. It stated to wake him up when, and if, it was his turn for the watch.
Despite the comfortable ride, Lorkan shifts constantly throughout the morning, clearly bothered by something. Finally, near high noon, Lorkan approaches Malin with a concern.
Iscarel saddles his white mare, cooing softly to it in elven. "Rochiril, I shall name her. Lady." he says, with a warmth in his eyes yet unseen. "I'll say one thing..." he says, appreciatively. "These Taldans know their horses."
He chuckles as Ivan turns in early, and his snores echo throughout the campsite. "There you have it. A touching display of emotion if ever there was one." he says, breaking some bread and passing it about He eats sparingly of the pig, and drinks deeply from his wineskin. Sucking the grease from his fingers before lending his harp-strings to Emerald's song.
"Come! Come! Let's have a tale! Malin? Brother Thallan? I've scarcely heard a word from you for the journey's length!"
Thallan let's the question hang... then responds. The stories I've been brought up with don't have happy endings, they are chosen and intended to heighten vigilance. I have the sincerest hope that our tale does not become another cautionary, but instead one of hope.
The Elf had tended to his black gelding, watering and feeding it before he ate himself. With the departure of the Taldan forces, he seemed a bit on edge.
Slowly, randomly to anyone who would notice... He called upon his patron to discern darkness in the hearts of those around him.
Shandor moves into one of the wagons and makes himself as comfortable as possible. It’s going to be a long ride to Wispil.
Pash finishes his meal after the surprisingly comfortable day's journey and sets to ensuring his hand crossbow is in good shape.
While I suppose having the guards with us wasn't a bad idea I am glad they are gone. The best law enforcement official is the one with his back turned and heading away from me I say.
Pash smiles. "Oh, I have no tales to tell of note, though I would hear any about this area that we are passing through. I grew up and spend most of my life in Cassomir, so any information on customs, weather patterns, wildlife, myths, rumors or general stories of interest would be entertaining to me at least."
And possibly decent tips on what to avoid, what to do, and what valuables might not be nailed down too tightly along the way.
Malin nods and looks at your holy symbol. "I will collect it from your order. I will mention I rendered aid to one of theirs and bill them accordingly. It should not be a problem."
You buy acid flasks at 10gp per flask and alchemists fire at 40gp per flask. No real limit on number.
No evil auras on anyone on the caravan.
Malin waits expectantly and, it seems he may have been truly waiting for a story of note.
The party continues the journey to Morsten and makes great time, cutting the seven day trip to six and coasting into the town of Morsten as night is falling. Heading straight for an inn and stable, you have the opportunity to sleep in comfortable beds with a roof rather than outside. Unfortunately you don't get to experience much of the town as you are out the other side of the town at first light.
Malin mentions his delight in the pace of the trip, and hopes to make Fort Belvor in eight days--the next stop on the journey. This trip skirts the river border between Taldor and Kelesh. You are wound tightly as the river boundary seems not so secure at times, especially when you observe Keleshians on the other side of the river at times.
It is the eighth day out of Morsten (the fourteenth day out of Greatwall) and sleeping outside and traveling in light rain of the last few days hasn't been pleasant. When Emerald's wagon throws a wheel and it takes four hours for the teamsters to fix it, Malik curses and drives the group even faster. He hopes to reach Fort Belvor by nightfall, but seems resigned to some night travel.
Tensions run high as dusk begins to fall, and you plainly see fires burning in the distance on the Keleshian side. Then you realize that one of the fires isn't from across the river, but on the winding trail up ahead. When the trail straightens out, the source of the fire comes into view; a bruning wagon, on its side in the middle of the road, part of an ambushed three-wagon train like yours.
You see that the middle of the three wagons lays overturned and virtually demolished on the road. To the right lies the charred wagon still smoldering. To the left stands a third wagon, apparently undamaged but awash with blood. Large spots of blood also dot the surrounding area, but you see no sign of the bodies anywhere. Cargo from the three wagons lies ransacked and scattered across the roadway, but little appears taken. You note numerous arrows lying among the cargo, several charred near the arrowheads.
Pash spends his time during the transit learning what he can about his new found companions, while attempting not to tell too much about himself. After all, they do not need to really know the extent of my trade skills yet. Or what it is for that matter.
As such, the only ones he really talks to in depth at all are Jasper one can never know enough about one's fellow brothers and Shandor the man is likable enough, and if I accidentally reveal a bit too much to him while drinking my mead... well, I can almost guarantee he will forget it in a minute or two.
When they first realize the fire's light comes from a caravan like their own, ambushed and burning, Pash grabs his hand crossbow and loads it.
"What was that about this area being mostly friendly and secure?" he asks in a low voice to whomever is driving his caravan . "Remind me to thank the good Taldan military for properly securing this area when we reach the fort."
So saying he pokes his head out and looks around as best as he can.
Ivan lets out a hearty laugh. After days of boredom and scenic sites he could use some good old entertainment. He bangs his axe on his shield twice.
Let us see what we can salvage, perhaps we can find clues to what exactly happened.
and maybe find some stragglers of that ambush party.. hehehe.
As he rides along Malin towards Morsten, Lorkan agrees with the good pace of the caravan, and compliments Malin on the competent team driving it. He shares the minor happenings from his military days and generally lets the merchant drive the conversation throughout the journey.
The second leg, unfortunately, offered a less relaxed atmosphere. The sight of the Keleshians across the river drew much of Lorkan's attention. And the Lorkan found himself having difficulty following some of the conversations because of the distractions.
Then the group comes upon the felled wagons.
Lorkan frowns at the sight, so eerily depicting what could have been their own train. "Please excuse me." He offers the fellow riders and steps down from the wagon. As Ivan sounded his shield, Lorkan draws his scimitar and waits to move in with the team. The cleric looks about as he waits.
Thallan busied himself with chores around the caravan, never one to shirk getting his hands dirty when he wasn't on on guard or in periodic meditative prayer. As one of the few horsemen, he ranged ahead short distances always keeping the wagons in sight. He was more social with his horse and gear.
Not to say that he was antisocial, just not one to initiate chit-chat. When approached, he was amicable enough. If he gravitated towards anyone, it was the devotee of Seranrae, the Dawnflower. There was some overlap in her faith and the Jackal's, in geography and tennet.
Emerald, could you oversee the preparation of flaming arrows? Narrow strips of cloth just below the arrow heads, soaked in oil. Perhaps a dozen or score. We literally fight fire with fire.
Cowards...
.
Shandor spends a fair amount of the trip complaining about every pot hole, bump, and rumble of the wagon. He seems to be not holding up very well to the harsh life style of the open road. After a few days adjusting to the change, he begins to settle in and starts to focus more on getting to know his new companions.
Shandor lavishes the opportunity to swaps stories with his new friend Pash. After revealing more of his history then he gains from Pash’s, it becomes obvious that the old man enjoys talking about himself.
After growing tired of storytelling, Shandor takes the time to swap out one of his lower level spells for a prestidigitation spell, which he uses as a conversation piece to intrigue Ivan. He demonstrates how the simplest magic can make any low quality beverage taste like the strongest dwarven mead.
During times when Thallan decides to work around the camp, Shandor tries to get the paladin to perform any manual labor he is able to convince the young man to do. Especially if it gets him out of any kind of work.
Looks like we might be having some bandit problems sooner or later.
Shandor, Emerald and Pash points out nine bodies scattered under a small copse of nine evergreen trees. The mystery of the caravan personnel is solved. As you carefully approach, one of the figures in face down with a dagger protruding from his back with crimson handle. There appears to be an empty container in the hilt.
As the body is rolled over, Jasmalus gasps.
At the sight of the bodies, Lorkan quickly intones a parting passage for the dead, holding the symbol about his neck as he chants, "Though you leave in distress, even as the dusk takes you, the dawn will bring new light."
The cleric follows the group as they survey the bodies. At Jasmalus's gasp, Lorkan turns to him. "Do you know this man?"
Malik has the caravan workers begin to collect the scattered goods. Bolts of materials, hides, and papyrus. He grimly produces a few shovels and hands them to Lorkan when the bodies are discovered, and resumes directing the teamsters to collect the goods.
Emerald and Jasmalus grimly examine the dead in the thin trees.
Pash inwardly groans as he removes the crimson dagger from the man's back. Why oh why couldn't it have been simple bandits... lizardmen... orcs..... even the combined armies of Kelesh and Qadira encircled around us would have been preferable. The only real question is was this poor man the target or was it all trade caravans in general...
Hearing Jasmalus gasp, Pash looks up to him.
"First time seeing death before, master caravanier? Well... pray that the owner of this blade is satisfied with these kills and isn't out there waiting for us. The Crimson Blades live up to their name, it seems."
Sheathing the dagger in his belt, he takes his hand crossbow up again and looks around, more than slightly paranoid now.
Jasmalus nods at Lorkan's inquiry. Jasmalus insists on burying the bodies and comments about the man stabbed in the back.
"This is Jetero, a merchant who frequents this area. He was a great source of information about the outer lands and Kelesh."
Malik wants to hurry up, and tells Jasmalus so.
Lorkan nods in sympathy, and pats Jasmalus on the back before beginning digging for the bodies. "Sarenrae has them now. We will remember them. And what we saw here."
Quietly, Lorkan puts away the scimitar, and begins working on the graves of the fallen.
As the rest of the crew begins breaking out shovels, Shandor quietly slides into an inconspicuous corner of the wagon.
By the gods, I hope they don’t want me to dig graves. Maybe that helpful, hardworking paladin will be enough help. I’ll set her quietly and maybe they won’t miss me.
Thallan does indeed help with the burial preparations, after all... this is the domain of his deity, Anubis. Preparation, ritual, burial and passing into the afterlife.
The natural order of things. But, these deaths came too soon if such a thing were truly possible. Some would argue, this was ordained, destined, written... in the Great Book.
But, the hairs at the back of his neck stood on end. This was done to further some end, someone was trading in death. They disturbed the natural order of things and will soon come squarely within his sights.
As they discovered the bodies and inspected them, Does anyone know these folks or have any theory? Does the knife mean anything to you, Pash? It would seem within your... wheelhouse.
Pash shudders and absently traces the hilt's outline with his pointer and middle fingers at it's mention by Thallan.
"Yes.... yes it does. It means we are all in a lot of danger if if this was not an isolated incident. This is the calling card of the Crimson Blades, arguably one of the best assasination for hire organizations in the region. They have been known to do everything from settling personal disputes for the very wealthy to distabalizing small nations for the political interests of wealthy unscrupulous nobles looking for an advantage. So, the real question is was this... Jetero... their main target... or was he a target merely because he was in a caravan heading this direction... like, say, we are now."
Pash shudders and turns to Jasmalus. "Jasmalus, you said you knew this man. Did he have any powerful enemies that you are aware of? Ones that would have been rich enough and angry enough to contract his life specifically. Tell me truthfully now, as we need to know if he was the target or if all of us could be targets as well."
Even more disturbing... What if our caravan was precisely the target and the infallible Crimson Blades acted hastily, mistaking them... for us.
A small force would likely draw less attention and not present itself as a worthy target. Is there something we're escorting of some importance... is this some sort of gambit? Thallan, looks to Pash then the merchants.
Cargo scattered, but not much taken... They were looking for something? Something we've got. Tell me I'm wrong.
Lorkan strains to follow the conversation as he continues working on the makeshift graves. "We might be the target then?" Lorkan remarks as conflicted emotions rise within him. Confronting them would mean a chance to set things right, one way or another. On the other hand, a meeting with them could mean danger to the mission at hand. Lorkan struggles at these two thoughts that churn and fight to rise to the fore, while myriad other thoughts and feelings hover in the periphery, awaiting their turn for his attention.
The cleric gulps, and forces these thoughts and emotions down as he continues the manual labor. "Had it been us..." Lorkan looks back in the direction of the wagons and the burnt marks from the flamed arrows. "How would we stop that?" Water, came the obvious answer within his head. But what else?
BAHAHAHA, let them come, they can break themselves on me axe. I care not if we are part of a ploy, all I was asked to do is kill orcs and lizards, and get paid for it! BWHAHA
Ivan keeps looking around almost asking for someone, or something, to come at them.
"Fool of a dwarf! These are no tribal lizards or marauding orcs. These are assassins of the highest quality. Do you what to know what you will see coming at you? Nothing... and then..." Pash pulls out the dagger and pantomimes the action of whipping it around someone's throat from behind them, then stabbing them in the back.
"If your soul does not quit it's body after that immediately, your dying glance might give you the cold comfort of seeing your killer walk off to collect payment for your death."
Pash shakes his head, then adds, "Say, since we are on the topic, if you die can I have that mug of yours? And perhaps the contents of your coin pouch? You know, to remember you by?" He smiles innocently.
BAH!!! Half o' it be naught but tall tales!
Ivan waves pash off.
don't ye worry, I'll let no harm come to ye. Ifin' ye thinking a dwarf would keel over so easy, ye don't be knowing many dwarves. Aside from that, a dwarf is buried with his mug. Its sacred. Now don't be askin' that again. Ain't but those who a dwarf trusts most an would claim as brother that he'd be willin ta give his mug to. The coin purse ye can have. Though you may be waitin awhile laddie.
Ivan calms down a bit, but now seems to scan the area back and forth ever more intently, whether because he believes pash, or just wants a challenging foe you aren't sure.
Shandor quietly glances out of the wagon to determine if the group has finished digging the graves. After a quick observation, he realizes the answer to his question is no!
Carefully the old man sinks back into the wagon while trying to avoid any attention to himself.
Malik looks concerned at Thallan's comments.
"If those Taldan's are playing a greater game with my caravan, they will not like what I will do to them."
Jasper steps over to talk to Thallan, somewhat impressed.
"Your deductions make perfect sense. This could not have been a random attack. They were looking for something. And the first three wagon caravan had to look a lot like ours. You are not wrong. Those
f(*&ing Taldans, what game are they playing? And I happened to make the mistake of coming along with absolutely no business opportunities in mind, only following affairs of the heart."
Jasper gives Emerald a smile.
The dwarf smiles, although he received 50% credit for trading in his old armor to purchase his new armor, so his purse is a little thicker.
Malik looks at Pash with concern: "If the crimson daggers are working against Taldane, something must be going on here."
As the burial proceeds in earnest.......
Seeing the humanoid, the Paladin extends his divine senses... while sounding the alarm.
ORC! There, slinking into the woods. Expect an ambush.
Lorkan, working hard at the graves, looks up at Thallan's warning and towards where Pash pointed. He squints to try to find the hidden orc as he pulls out his morningstar and steps ahead to position himself between the helpers by the graves and the orc.
Pash nods to Malik, "Indeed so... for our wellbeing I pray they found what it was they were looking for.... wait, do you see that?"
Pash points to where the orc is trying to move just as Thallan calls out. "Guard a caravan, they said. It will be easy gold, they said. I should have stayed back in town and met with my... friend." Pash mutters to himself, catching his words at the last moment as he brings his hand crossbow to bear.
Shandor hears Thallan's call of alarm. Noting the group’s diminished interested in digging graves, Shandor decides to climb out of the wagon and head over to the rest of the group. Did I hear you say orc?
As soon as the question leaves his lips, he spots the burly orc skulking off down the trail. Indeed! That is defiantly an orc!
Initiative
Initiative
All but Thallan/Lorkan
Orc
Party
Orc
Some notice the orc and point him out. He is escaping down an old game trail.
Jasper announces: "I will guard the wagons!!"
Ivan bellows.
see! Jus' some no brain orcs work! Take em out!
Ivan stands his ground, knowing he wouldn't be able to catch the orc but it leaves a strong distaste in his mouth.
Summoning a fragment of his former control, Shandor speaks an ancient word of arcane binding, “Mordock.” then unleashes an arcane bolt of bluish colored energy from his extended hand. With urgency the bolt winds through the trees towards the fleeing orc.
Pash decides to attempt to hit the fleeing orc. "None of us should be going to far I hope my friend."
Iscarel, looking bored, paces around the campsite and strings his shortbow. As the others point out the orc, he lets an arrow fly forth with a loud snap.
Recap == Encounter 1 -- Burial in the Pines
It seemed fitting to bury each of bodies under an evergreen tree in the scattered copse of trees. Jasmalus, obviously moved, seemed to control some strong emotions, his face a grim mask of determination. It would make a dwarf proud.
With the snapping of a twig, the lone orc spying on them was spotted, and he quickly tried to retreat down a game trail into the dense forest. The multicolored leaves in the forest providing a varied background that has made the retreat of the orc easy to follow. On alert, each of you with horses kept them close by, having grown accustomed to the instant mobility they provided.
Ivan holds his ground. Shandor had just finished climbing down from the wagon and fired a force bolt after two arrows quickly struck near the orc. The force bolt hits the orc with a soft, squishy 'SMACK' and he falls to the ground. Is he fatally wounded or taking cover??
There is deadly silence from the forest.
Entire Party is now up