Setting aside his plate the noble will drink deeply from the bottle, wincing as it burns his throat. "It's Kesten actually, holy man. Lucas is a fair hand with carpentry and I think we could probably build a small tanty for anyone you capture. It'll give us something to keep busy with besides watching the wind blown fields." He looks over towards Lucas.
"Hauling the lumber from the forest will be a chore, perhaps we could use the wagon?" The large man replies. "I'll take a look at those throwers too. Wouldn't hold much hope for a quick repair though."
Kesten takes a smaller drink before passing the bottle. "The Garess family have a lot to say about drinking, most of it involves the company you keep while you do it. Even if they are friends or lovers they must be nobleborn." His words drip acid with the last sentence. "What would you know of loved ones and tragedy?"
Servayn eats quietly, handing off parts of his own dinner to Ember, who isn't really hungry after the decent amount of game foraged up en route, but doesn't refuse food, as a general rule.
Ember attempts to follow the conversation, with it's layers of subtext and hinted-at tales of forbidden loves ending tragically, but gives up. Words, like birds, flutter, flutter, never in reach.
Setting aside his plate the noble will drink deeply from the bottle, wincing as it burns his throat. "It's Kesten actually, holy man. Lucas is a fair hand with carpentry and I think we could probably build a small tanty for anyone you capture. It'll give us something to keep busy with besides watching the wind blown fields." He looks over towards Lucas.
"Hauling the lumber from the forest will be a chore, perhaps we could use the wagon?" The large man replies. "I'll take a look at those throwers too. Wouldn't hold much hope for a quick repair though."
Kesten takes a smaller drink before passing the bottle. "The Garess family have a lot to say about drinking, most of it involves the company you keep while you do it. Even if they are friends or lovers they must be nobleborn." His words drip acid with the last sentence. "What would you know of loved ones and tragedy?"
** spoiler omitted **
"Thank you Corso, Janku says with a slight nod as he takes his seat at the table".
"And I would greatly appreciate you and your men taking the time to construct a stockade".
He then listens intently to the undercurrents of intrigue going on around the table.
Sense Motive
Ox grins at the statement From Kal, basking in the brotherhood of his lord.
That sounds great Kesten, If we are in the fort while you are working on them I'd love to tag along with the building of the pin and repairs of the throwers.
Lukasz smirks at Kalsgrim's observations. He had known the paladin for much of his life and while the two didn't always see eye to eye, he was still glad to hear the reference that Kal made to the group being as family. He'd much rather had the headstrong and determined paladin as his brother than any of the sniveling, overly diplomatic siblings of House Orlovsky.
Taking a drink as well, Lukasz listens in on the conversation, not saying much until Kalsgrim starts to talk about the plans for tomorrow. Turning to Oleg, he asks, "What say you Oleg? Any recommendations on which way to explore?"
"Oh, I didn't. You're right Kal, sorry about that guys, I just meant that whenever we do start working on it , that I'd be happy to help, I don't mean to say you should do it right this minute or anything. A nights rest in bed doesn't sound so bad to me. Ox puts down his fork finishing his food and taking a swig of his water skin.
After wondering why the group chooses this moment to discuss differing boot designers Janku pipes up..."Why don't we go directly east first, then head south from there back towards the bandit camp". "Maybe we'll run across some signs of the Stag Lord as we go".
"Tuck do you know anything of the area I am talking about"?
Garick hands the bottle to Janku after another swig. I think east is as good as west, but i would prefer to investigate the closest regions before moving further from the outpost.Garick looks around the post fondly I would rather not leave an unexplored area behind us.
"I believe I was in your role, but reverse, Corso. I loved a woman of common birth and my family did not approve. The patriarch disowned me. I am a Garess in name only," says Kesten as he drinks again from the bottle. After this he stands and walks toward his tent.
Oleg thinks for a moment while the group discusses which direction to explore. "The plains around my trading post are fairly safe. I haven'et explored them much and I'm not familiar with the forests edge so that may be a place to start. To the east is a fellow named Bokken. He's a little insane but occasionally stops by here to sell potions. You'll likely want to visit him."
With the dinner finished the party readies for sleep and has a sound night in the comfort of the guest house beds. Tuck sets up a small tent beside it. Oleg provides him with a chain and manacle secured to the wall of the building.
Both Servayn and Ember will attempt to assist with Garricks hunting / foraging efforts, as Ember will insist that there is 'no such thing' as 'too much food.'
For all his intentions, Ember seems to be too busy eager, and scares off more prey than he catches...
4th of Pharast
The smell of sizzling bacon over a campfire drifts through the guest house. Svetlana treats the group to a breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and bacon enough for everyone to have their fill for the day ahead. Tuck speaks with one of the twins and arranges to borrow one of their horses so he can ride along with the group rather then walk. Using the wagon would wagon would lengthen the trip immensely especially with no trails or roads.
With Garick in the lead a proper map is made of the plains to the East of Oleg's. Aside from the gentle rise and fall of the land it consists primarily of grass growing up to three feet tall. Landmarks are few and far between aside from seemingly random boulders and a small spring of water. Garick is able to find some wild grain that could be used for a thick porridge.
Toward the end of the days exploration a small sod hut can be seen in the distance. A line of strange blue smoke rises from a short bent chimney.
Tuck points forward with his manacled wrists. "There it is. Home of Bokken the mad hermit. Not many people set up homes in the Greenbelt, but he's not like most folk. The bandits don't even bother shaking him down for money." He chuckles to himself. "I've been here before...you'll just have to see."
A thin man sticks his head out of the door. Hair juts in every direction more akin to a birds nest than a style. He looks around nervously, his gaze darting all around. Finally he settles for looking at the group of horses, one eye still persisting in twitching about. "Horses who can ask if they can speak have learnt more then they know!"
As his other eye comes around to viewing the group the rest of Bokken creaks out from behind the door. His ragged robes are covered in colored stains and burn marks. There are scarecrows with more meat on their bones then this man. "Men who ask if they can speak have forgotten what they knew."
Ox slaps his hand over his mouth as fast as he possibly can, He finds Bokken utterly hilarious, but does his absolute best to stem his laughter before it starts. He takes a deep breath in threw his nose and lets it out slowly. letting himself calm he settles on grinning under his helm.
Garick gives Ox a scowl. First impressions only happen once, and bursting into laughter is no way for a Nowicki to greet anyone no matter how they look. He mutters Behave. he casually examines the area as he awaits to see how things will progress.
perception check
In a forced whisper ox replies.I'm sorry, brother. I just thought he was only going to address the horses at first. Ox easily reels him self in at his brother's sour look.
Garick sees grass, taller grass, shorter grass, a grass house, and a man with grass for brains. Of note is a sign by the door. A metal rod leads to a clawed hand holding the neck of a large glass bottle half-filled with murky rain water.
Ember looks at the old man and then at the horses, and back at the old man, finally muttering to Servayn, somewhat peevishly, Horses can't talk.
Servayn just shrugs. He's seen stranger things.
Smiling at the zany man's words, Lukasz will speak up, "Forgive my friends' rudeness, for indeed we are men who have forgotten what we knew. Though indeed at times we might also be horses. I am Lukasz and we are from the lands to the north. Oleg told us much about Bokken, the man who trades potions and we wanted to meet him." With that, Lukasz will step forward so that the old loon could see him. "Would you permit those who have forgotten what they knew though learned more than they know approach and meet the man who trades potions?"
Not really sure if his tactic would work, Lukasz attempts to act a little crazy to try and get the old hermit to open up a little.
Diplomacy:
Tuck leans towards Corso, "Sometimes, but he is fond of selling his wares. Just uh...don't mention his brother."
Bokken brightens at Corso's inquisition. "Possessing potions and oils perhaps? An oil to shine your smooth pate a potion for your bowels would those be of interest?"
He jerks towards the paladin and spins about. "Dangers as far as the eye can see more often unseen."
"Ah a man who knows he's a horse and speaks backwards finds himself a horses ass." The hermit narrows his eyes at Lukasz. "Charge ye a colonic of cologne and cognac to clean your clap and clear your conk?"
Garick mutters to Ox Ok, so the old timer is a bit daft, or he is good at his act. he lets a smile cross his lips. The Greenbelt is making me a bit paranoid. Hmm at least a lot less trusting, but so far things have not been very straight forward. I will be glad when we get things settled down, and we can go back to worrying about courtly maneuvering and political intrigues. Not that those are any less deadly or dangerousness. On second thought perhaps this is better. Hmmmm.
"Oleg's an oak who's found a dryad settled far from axes." Bokken nods. "Friends of his are friends indeed but potions!"
Bokken charges into his hut yelling out names of potions and items. After a minute or two of crashing furniture, rather imaginative swearing, and what sounds like an argument with a stove he comes back outside. With delicate care he sets down a wooden crate removing the lid to reveal two rows of bottles.
2 x potion of cure medium wounds - 300gp
potion of comprehend languages - 50gp
potion of endure elements - 50gp
potion of protection from evil - 50gp
The bottles are very similar to the one found earlier, currently on the mule. For any who looked at it they recognize the hand written labels as the same. Each one has a small tag tied on with a string showing a price. Bokken gestures toward the crate grinning madly. "A sampling of my goods! Unless you actually needed a laxative," He says cocking an eyebrow. "I would make more but I've since run out of fangberries....and they make the potions so delicious."
Bokken begins to stare vacantly to the south still grinning with his raised eyebrow.
Janku advances with a smile, and bows when he gets close to the man, "Forgive our manners". "I am Janku, chosen of the Lord in Iron". "The hour grows late, and we have no chosen campsite". "Might we camp close to your hut, and offer you the hospitality of our evening meal, before we proceed into business".
"In these unsettled lands, we must take care not to let desire pass civility". "Will you join us in a meal"?
Servayn mutters to Garrick, He's capable of priestly magics, and it seems that the local bandits would rather trade with him than take his product by force, so despite his eccentricities, he may be quite competent. If we find any fangberries, or similar items that he would find useful in the production of his craft, we might be able to win his trust, and barter for reduced costs on healing elixirs, should be have need of such.
Ember, having no interest in the proceedings, turns around to face the sun and plops down on the ground, soaking up the warmth.
I'll take a cure light and the language potion. ox rides up closer to the deranged hermit dismounting closer up. Ox will count the gold out and put them in stacks of ten.
"Buy a few or buy a many please please do so!" He says snapping out of his trance. "You may camp nearby man of iron but downwind as the stink of your armor might curdle my brews."
Bokken counts through Ox's coins and carefully hands over the potions. "I sell to who will pay and my elixirs cure those who drink. Except that one it won't work on birds mind you."
once things have settled a bit Garick will buy a cure light from Bokken.
You seem to recall that the fangberry bush is similar to the family of blackberries and other large spreading brambles. They are usually found in shady hollows between hills where they only receive sun during midday. Their name is due to the large razor-sharp thorns which can tear a man to pieces if he is not slow and careful. Huge nests of spiders numbering in the thousands tend to be among the arching canes.
Ox is all smiles as Bokken gets to pass out insults and not feel the sting of anyones retort. He takes Noir a little bit away from the hut and allows him to graze a bit if he so chooses. He puts the curelight and other potin away somewhere safe.
Ox takes to whistling a tune again. By now the rest of the group has probably realized that Ox takes to whistling when he has nothing better to do,it comes from a life of always having someone in charge of you with a list of things that need to be done. He's ata loss when he doesn't have atleast twelve things to acomplish in a day. all this ranging and exploring feels a lot like being lazy to him, not that he seems to mind.
Well good Bokken I will keep an eye out for any fangberry bushes in our journey. If I come across some I would be happy to collect what I can for you. Are there any particulars I should know about which berries you desire, or does it not matter as much. How many do you require? Would you prefer as much as I can find, or only a certain amount? After his chat he will take shade over by Ox and Noir and take care of her. If any others are neglecting the care of their mounts Garick will collect any mounts who are not being cared for.
Servayn, being essentially clueless about caring for animals, and not the best rider, for that matter, pays attention when Garick cares for the horses, asking questions as necessary to figure out what he should be doing.
Bokken exchanges goods with Garrick. "Enough for a weeks worth of work a hand and a half of potions!" He holds up both hands showing nine digits and a severed pinky finger. "If you find them a friend true you will be and I always treat my friends to a fourth off wares."
5th of Pharast
Danger zone!
A meal of wheat porridge is prepared and spiced with cinnamon and brown sugar provided by Bokken. Aside from the occasional strange smells drifting from the hut the night out in the plains is peaceful. Crickets can be heard in the surrounding grasslands and the clear night sky is full of stars.
With no hills to block it the sun rises early and the group heads out having a cold breakfast while exploring to the south west.
This area is just as empty as the land near Bokken's hut. The same random brush and boulders can be found. However while Corso leads the mapping of an area closer to the hermit's land then the forest the group begins to come across something strange.
Laying near a webbed bush is the skeleton of an elk. This site brings the party to a halt. Up ahead an area of land stretching four-hundred feat that is littered with corpses and bones. Nearly whole skeletons of boars, deer, bears, and a few humans can be seen scattered about.