Hey Abi, make you a deal - I'll cover the horse if you drive? Tomid has no desire to try to ride a full grown horse by himself.
It occurs to Doc that his new found penchant for getting in trouble could lead to injury without the proper recourse. At his wife's insistance he decides to go to Hugo's smithy to make a special order.
Hugo! How have you been? Did you follow my instructions, light work, avoid the heat. Remember, because you hit your head. Well thats okay, anyway. I came here to ask a favor. Charity says that if I am going to keep heading into the lion's den I should at least try to protect myself. And shes right, of course shes right. So i would like to place an order for a mail armor. Nothing too heavy, im not going to war or anything, you know something that could stop a sword blow or at least cushion it somewhat. Like what you made for Abigail.
At Tomids offering of a drink, Doc orders a brandy. It's a drink he rarely orders, reserving it for momentous occasions or grave news and events.
Well Grizelda, I dont know much about the plague. But me and my wife seem fine and we've been exposed for a while now. I think it might be in the air or the water over there. If we bring plenty of water we will be fine. There are ways we can try to protect ourselves from airborne toxins. The easiest one being a wet rag over your mouth and nose.
Doc thanks Jerry for the generous offer.
I have another suggestion, two horses and a cart. We'll have plenty of room for our things and wont risk being thrown off. I dont know about the rest of you but I am no equestrian. Horses are for knights and messengers, i am an apothecary.
"Doc, I went and asked my pal Boris about yer cart idea. After a couple mugs of ale I finally got him to agree to renting you a wagon, two draft horses to pull it, and a big barrel of fresh water for 100 gold. He'll even throw in a couple tents you can use! Now I don't know as any of you city folk have the knowing of driving a wagon, and you'll be needing someone to watch over your things while you're figuring this sickness thing out, so I was wondering if I could be that someone? I'll drive for ya, care for the animals, keep everything safe and sound while you're doing your thing, and even cook for you on the road. I've been looking for a chance to roam about and see more of the world...whatcha say, Doc? Mind if I tag along?!?"
"Yar, I 'ave been keepin' it quiet Doc, but now I is all good again." With a smile he knocked his forehead lightly with his hammer. When Doc told him the reason for his visit, Hugo nodded again. "Ya gots it Doc, I is gonna get rite on dat...uuhm, but uurrh, I is already doin' sum work fer Zinny, ya know?" He motioned at the big metal sheet, still firmly clasped in the grip of Hugos tong. With this new information, Doc couldnt help but notice that the plate peice had two indentations near the collar. They HAD seemed a touch too large for pectoral muscles in Docs opinion.
At this point Zinnys Breastplace is just about done, only a few silver away from the 2000 total to create. So call it done?
These rolls almost get me to the 1000 silver needed for a Chainshirt. With the bit of rounding up previously from Zinny Breastplate, call it 5 weeks total to finish both?
At the Whip...
"Since this is a matter I think would be of interest to both you and Mr. Smith, then let me be the first to tell you: I intend to have a late summer community dinner on the sanctuary grounds in a few weeks. I will be inviting some of our neighbors from Cromm's Hold who are rebuilding what they can. I can keep a table clear for your family and Mr. Smith's family, so that you have the opportunity to sit together. To talk. Or just to observe," he laughs good-naturedly. "And to the men who have been toiling away at Cromm's Hold, I'll be sure to tell them to stop by here afterwards for a nightcap."
At the Happy Cow
Brother Silas enters the Happy Cow tavern and removes his hat, hanging it on the rack by the door. He approaches Doc and, at first, is all muted cheer and handshakes until he picks up on the man's worried expression and consternation. "Is everything all right with your houseguests? I'd heard you taken on some boarders..."
Once being caught up to speed, the priest nods gravely. "Oh my, oh my. Yes, if anyone can help them, you can. But will just the handful of us be enough for everyone up there? I might think that travelers could already have come through the town and been elsewhere. Maybe to the other few settlements along the pass. By the time we get there, Doctor, the scope of this illness could be broader than we're expecting."
This is suicide, Doc. If we get sick, what are we going to do?! Die alone in the mountains, that's what. Cough until our lungs are raw and red. Black sores. That suppurate. Oh my gods.
Small beads of sweat form on his dark brow. He wipes it off with a soiled kerchief, muttering under his breath about the heat being the reason.
"...worse case scenario, Doc, would we be enough to handle this? If you think you will need whatever physicians and nurses we can get from Daggermark and our neighboring communities, I can put a company together and follow up after you. I am supposing we might need people to boil water. Tend to the sick. And then help you brew tinctures, maybe..."
One of the rules of small town living Silas learned long ago: never leave the doctor out in the cold, 'lest he do the same to you when you really need it.
No i can handle this with whoever will be involved over there, likely their clergy. I have reason to believe that this disease spreads through water. After all, me and my wife show no signs and we've been exposed for some time already. They said that the crops and livestock where getting sick as well. This could very well be a toxin, a slow working poison. That is why I plan on bringing so much water. Several barrels if we can, we can wean off the settlement off their water source. Of course i could be wrong.If it is spread through the air, we can try wet rags over our faces, it might protect us.
Zinny listens with her brows furrowed, mucking with the edge of the mug of ale she'd ordered.
"...'m sorry folk are sick an' all an'... I'm willin' to go try an' help, but-- but, well, I ain't a doc, Doc. I don't reckon I can use my stick to whup a cough. D'you think I'd be any use along?"
With Grizelda seemingly distracted by though, Hugo lumbered over to the Doc instead, catching Zinnys question as he approached. "Wen ma Papa gets sick, I is always 'avin' ta work 'ard ta 'elp 'im get betta. Is tough work! I betcha wes gunna be 'elpful." Getting his own tankard of beer he mumbled to himself before putting it to his lips "Huehue, "Wup a cough", dats funny."
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"I can provide support to the clergy. I trust the Doc-- and if we have a chance to help people, we should. If you have confidence in yourself, Doc, and time is of the essence... I'm thinking we should set out now."
Abigail steeples her fingers hopefully, having interjected into what she considers "the adults'" conversation.
Tomid nods at Abi's words. I can be ready quick as lightnin. he adds. 'bout how far we goin?
Grizelda paces anxiously listening to the others making arrangements that will lead them who-knows-where and into who-knows-what sort of trouble. Then Doc and Abby say something that catches her attention...
"Wait! I don't think we can carry enough clean water for a whole community... The clergy! That's a point to consider. I believe water and even food can be created through magical means using divine magic. Surely we need not try and haul it along if we can find or bring someone who can Create Water!"*blink*blink* She claps her hands and looks expectantly to Silas and Abby, with wide, excited eyes.
Managing to tear his lips from his tankard, Hugo weighed in on Abbys modesty. "Sure yer a priestesses Abby, ya 'ave da power o' da gods! Just cause ya aint runnin' around in no church dun mean yer any less dan all them fancy ke-ler-iks. Wes all seens it in da swamp." Nodding to himself, he then raised his tankard at everyone, nodding at the group before emptying it in one long gulp. "Aaaaaah. Dats da stuff rite dere! Aint no wine be beatin' a visit to da Cow! Uhm, ya tinks we gots time for one more?"
"Of course, you can always ask the Tinkers if they might be heading in your direction. They're packing up their wagons as we speak and will leave at first light tomorrow. They travel a bit slower than you might on your own, but you're likely to haggle a lower price for transport with them than the watermen guild. But make no mistake...with the Tinkers there's ALWAYS a price."
Jerry will leave you to your deliberations, heading out of the Cow to attend to some other business.
Here is basic information you know or can learn about your destination:
Duvik's Pass is a simple mining community nestled within one of the valleys that cross through the hill country to the north. It has long been a waystop for travelers and adventurers seeking to rest aching limbs and drown painful memories within her gates. Due to a discovery of substantial silver deposits buried in the mountains nearby, the men of Duvik’s Pass have burrowed into the ground seeking the wealth therein. Able-bodied folk from neighboring villages flocked to the town, hoping to lend their strength within the mines and garner some share of the prize.
Hope and industry turned to despair and potential ruin with the advent of the Burning Plague two months ago. It began quietly enough, with the miners returning home from their work at nightfall complaining of blistering sores and an unbearable thirst. Shortly thereafter, the town’s livestock was decimated by an unknown illness and her crops began to wither. The elders of Duvik’s Pass declared that the well water had been soured by an unknown disease, but by then the Burning Plague had already begun claiming the young and the sickly.
The town's water has its source within the mine - perhaps the answer lies there?
I'd love to travel with the tinkers. Tomid states. It'd gave me a chance ta practice some singin and dancin. But its bound to be slower an them people are sick now. Maybe we aught ta get there quick like.
"Horses are expensive," Zinny says with a little frown. "But Tomid's gotta point, if these people need our help then we oughtta get there fast-like."
She gives a little nod at Hugo's words-- he's got a point too. Maybe she's no doctor or cleric but she can help carry things for the others, or move sick people, or... whatever.
Talking with a bubbly voice from inside the tankard, Hugo added a question to the decision making.
"Dun wes need ta bring lotsa supplies n' stuffs? Wes gonna be needin' da wagon atleast. Maybe if we goes wit da Tinkers, Silas can ask em ta 'elp? Den we would be more people ta 'elp."
Tomid nods excitedly, glad to have more justification to go with the tinkers. That's right Hugo. Them tinkers aught to be right useful if we can convince um ta help. What cha think Doc? We got time go ride with the tinkers?
I dont think a day or two will change anything. The tinkers could work but... arent you worried they might steal from us?
Silas says he would be happy to speak with the Tinkers.
Tomid smiles a devious little smile when the concern of theft is mentioned. They'd best not. That's a game two could play at...
Deciding on a course of action, your group heads to the outskirts of town to arrange passage with the Tinkers. A roving band of traders, performers, scoundrels, and craftsmen, the Tinkers move from town to town, repairing broken or damaged items, selling trinkets, trading their wares, sometimes performing for crowds of children and adults alike. They are both loved and detested; folks can’t wait for the Tinkers to arrive, and they can’t wait for them to leave again. While the Tinkers have earned many of the slurs and insults thrown around about them, they also have a good-hearted nature, a joyful approach to life, and a carefree attitude that attracts the fancies of youngsters all over. But above all else, Tinkers are fiercely independent and protective of their own kind.
As you approach the camp, your senses are assaulted. Your eyes see clothes, canvas wagon covers, and even the wagons dyed or painted every color in the rainbow, plus a few more. Your ears are overwhelmed with more noise than seems possible from a crowd this size in an open area. Children run about screaming and laughing; dogs bark and chase the playing children, their tails wagging hard enough to knock the smaller kids over; adults talk loudly or sing or argue happily about who got the best or worst deals; and above all is the sound of wooden mallets and leather harnesses and chains and the sounds of breaking down a camp for travel. But the sense that suffers the worst, by far, is your smell. How can you accurately describe the barrage of scents and odors that nearly knock you to the dirt? Imagine cooking a gourmet meal inside of Hugo’s leather blacksmith apron (after he’s worked a full summer day at the forge AFTER eating onions and garlic the night before), then add two cups of cumin and seventeen ghost peppers and pour all of that into a brewer’s vat. That’s about one tenth of what it smells like.
Still you press on to the center of the wagons, where you were informed the șef would be. A deeply tanned and well-wrinkled woman in a simple white cotton blouse and a long, deep blue woolen skirt walks up to you. ”Vânturi corecte și drumuri netede pentru tine. Fair winds and smooth roads to you. Please, please, come and sit. As you can see, we are packing to leave, but perhaps I may still assist you, friends?” She motions to several folding chairs circling a small fire ring with a pot of steaming liquid hanging over it, watching you expectantly.
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Abby didn't understand her language, but smiles graciously and thanks her for her hospitality as she sat down. It was best to keep an open mind here; and an wise eye, if the rumors were correct. Dressed in modest clothing and chain armor layered with leather, she was a far sight to the girls who she saw around the camp, wearing almost nothing but thin cloth and pretty smiles. Her blonde hair immediately set her apart from them without question-- she'd heard a rumor once that they stole blonde hair if they could, using magic, taking the color right out of your scalp and turning it sheet white...
Well, if her hair was sheet white, perhaps she'd get a bit more respect from the children. She'd at least look the part of a mother.
Her eyes water from the smell of the camp, and she tries to covertly wipe them. "Greetings, ma'am, and thank you for speaking to us. This is a lovely camp. I've never seen so much color before in my life," Abigail professes with a smile.
With a twinkle in her eye, she continues. "We were hoping to... perhaps negotiate to travel with your people for a short time, if you are heading to the north-- close to Duvik's Pass."
She looks to the others, curious how much they want to divulge, and knowing that their maturity might help color their words in a way more pleasing to the ear.
Yes, like Abi said. We can help, offer favors or even pay a nominal fee. Travelling in a large group would make our journey safer
Bringing up the rear of the group, Hugo almost felt weary as the smell of the camp hit him, the odd aroma reminding him of a hard days work somehow.
He wasnt much interested in the how and why of their business here, content to look at the camp area. "Best ta leave da talkin' ta dem wot is gud at talkin'."
It didnt take long before he took notice of the various women around the camp, stealing glances in a way he thought was ever so covert, but in truth amounted more to flat out leering stares. It wasnt untill his eyes wandered to Abis rear that he realized the rudeness of his conduct and averted his eyes, looking at Zinny instead. When that too failed to make his eyes stop "taking in the sights" he turned to Grizelda in desperation, finally finding a focus for his vision that did not elicit impure thoughts. The result was less than optimal, Hugo stood looking intently at Grizelda with a satisfied smile on his face.
Tomid dressed for the meeting, wearing his best leathers, adding some colorful scarves to complement his outfit, and going so far as to add a plumed hat. He walked through the camp with open wonder, loving the idea of a traveling and free life. I could live like this for a time. he thinks to himself.
When he meets the șef he bows low, removing his hat with a flourish and sweeping it around himself. I am very pleased to meet you wise one. he says with a smile. And I would be the happiest halfing in the region if you were to allow us to travel with you, if only for a few days. He remains standing until the șef sits.
Zinny, like Hugo, keeps her mouth shut. She's too busy looking at all the sights anyway-- colored scarves and flashing bracelets and faces painted more elaborately than her mother has ever managed. She looks every bit the gawking townie.
"You ever seen such a sight?" she whispers to Gossamer, in hopes the little dragon is still around. But he's given to flitting here and away when it suits him, she's discovered; quite often she's found herself whispering to an empty room.
Grizelda is of little help regarding the deliberations since as soon as she comes into the area and her delicate nose is assaulted with so many acrid and competing odors, her eyes begin to water and she begins to sneeze. She draws a handkerchief from her sleeve and then blows her nose, sniffing and dabbing at her nose. She doesn't even notice that Hugo's eyes have settled upon her... but then Gregor's head swivels around and peers up into the tall man's face from his perch on Grizelda's shoulder.
When Grizelda notices people looking at her, she says "Excuse be, sensitib sinuses, I'mb afraid."
The șef sits with the group, offering cups of the steaming liquid to all around while listening to your request. When you are seated and either have a mug or declined, she pours one for herself, inhales deeply of the aroma, and sips before answering. "We are in fact heading northerly, and you are welcome to join our family, but any who desire to travel with the Tinkers must contribute something to the whole. For the path is best traveled with others to share the load, and we each add something unique to the stewpot of life. So we shall see what you can offer to the neam, yes? Come, give me your hands, one at a time." she says, looking each of you in the eye.
"We leave at first light. I will think on what I have seen tonight and assign you tomorrow. You are free to stay the night or not. poate o lovitură briza rece - May a cool breeze blow..."
Unnerved by the owl staring back, Hugo looked at the sky instead, the only place left in this place that didnt draw his eyes in all sorts of naughty ways.
During the hand reading, Hugo listened to the womans words with a deep reverence. Not only were destiny and palm readings something which had shown up frequently in the stories, but she was so right! For better or worse, he was determined to heed her advice at the first opportunity.
"I is gunna go 'ome fer da nite den. Papa dun knows where I is, an' I really should tell 'im where I is off to."
Zinny flushes at the fortune reading. She half-opens her mouth to protest she's not, but shuts it again with a click. Maybe she's worse than she knows. She has been keeping secrets, after all, and kept the gold rather than give it all to Momma...
Only for other people's good... Tomid says in a small voice in an effort to justify the words of the reading. He is obviously awed by all the readings.
Tomid has his gear packed and is quite ready to stay the night. Where do I set up? he asks with a smile too big for his face.
After a day of preparation before meeting up with the Tinkers, Silas is a flurry of activity, cajoling and haggling his way amongst the craftspeople of Daggermark. It had sounded like a solid enough plan to gather a small army of people to do the real work and send them up to Duvik's Pass, but Doc Ginley, like a typical stable family man, was content to make due with what he had - which was, of course, Brother Silas' unwavering support.
"Yes, it is a lot of food. I know it will empty the stores for a bit, but I can pay you. Now. Today. In cash," Silas says, throwing some of his hard-earned gold around.
"Is there a discount for purchasing those candles in bulk? No? Oh, you're right, it will put you to work to replace the stock, but I'm good for it." Clink clink.
"Fishing? Why...yes, quite a bit of fishing, if I'm fortunate. Go ahead and add that tackle box on top of everything else."
As the group is in the company of the Tinkers, it may become apparent that Silas, at least by appearance, seems to belong with them. While his hide shirt and attire isn't particularly colorful, and his hair is much better groomed, his olive skin makes him look a prodigal priest of the clan. And returning with more luggage, apparently, than he ever left with.
Silas drinks humbly from his offered mug and when his fortune is read, he finds the mug even more interesting, and is quiet until the matter of their giving back to the Tinkers is brought up.
"This shall be no problem, madre. We have made it a hobby to help those in need, and it will be good to help those who help us. You have but to ask."
"I... I'll see you all in the morning," she says. Responsibility (of a sort) wins out. She'll go tell her mother.
Via a note, at least, so she doesn't have to endure the yelling right then.
Grizelda blinks blandly during her personal reading, her frown deepening in thought... and some mild cynicism, but she holds her tongue and dabs her nose until the business is concluded.
Her watery eyes narrow at the vagueness of the terms, however, and before she takes her leave she speaks up... as best as she can.
"Beg your pardond, Badamb... but how buch buddy will you be deeding for trabbling with your fabbily?"
"Ahh...a budding miser, I see." the șef replies. "While some people's contribution does indeed take the form of coin, there are many ways to improve the neam - the people. The road will show us..." With that she stands and beckons for Tomid to follow, bidding the rest of you a good evening.
Tomid is led to a small wagon painted a bright blue with red trim and a cornflower yellow canvas top. A young couple with a small toddler are preparing the wagon. You are introduced to Nate and S'mantha, and their son Jak. They warmly welcome you to their home and gladly offer you a place with them for the night and the trip.
Tomid skips along behind the șef adding a dance step or two in along the way.
Nate, S'mantha, and Jak, Thanks be to ya for welcoming me into your family, if only for a few days. I'll do what I can ta help with any chores and ta brighten the journey. he says with his best smile as he thinks back to his mother's friend of his early youth, the Dawnfower follower who had such an important influence on him. Tell me, do ya know any songs. I'd love ta be learn'en a few.
@ Tomid Jak is about 3 years old - he walks and talks in small sentences, and his eyes light up when he meets Tomid. When you tell him your name, he smiles, grabs your hand, and proudly says "To'id! Look momma, To'id my frind!" The way he says your name sounds more like toad than anything else. Soon all of the other children are calling you Toad or Mr. Toad. But they all like being near you, since you are closer to their size, and they see you as a kid to be played with more than an adult to be listened to.
@ Silas You are brought to the tent of Sten and Jakob, brothers in their mid-20s who hunt for game and then trade the skins. They are generally good natured, like most Tinkers, but quiet. They move with a grace born of necessity, for their hunting must be done quickly and efficiently. They must go far enough from the town or the wagon train to find big game each day, but return with their kill before the wagons get too far away from them. So the brothers, who are used to silence and solitude, welcome you to their group, show you where you can put your bedroll, and offer to share their stew with you.
@ Zinny While you are walking back to the Whip, Gossamer whispers in your ear, "Are we leaving with the bright ones tomorrow? Oh, won't that be wonderful! But won't your old one be angry with you for leaving - again? I don't like when she yells at you...maybe I can help." Then Gossamer makes a strange trilling sound you have come to know as her 'evil laugh' - meaning she is thinking of a particularly good prank to pull...
When in Tinkerton, do as the Tinkers do. Thus Silas is equally tacit in his greeting of the brothers, Sten and Jakob, offering his hand and giving them a simple, "Thank you. We're all very grateful."
He is happy to share their stew (fresh venision? yes please!), and as he chews the meat he contemplates that it must not have been too difficult a kill. The hunt was an act sacred to his faith, and it would behoove him to have some familiarity with the process. "Care to have some company for your hunt? Even if only to observe?"
@ Zinny While you are walking back to the Whip, Gossamer whispers in your ear, "Are we leaving with the bright ones tomorrow? Oh, won't that be wonderful! But won't your old one be angry with you for leaving - again? I don't like when she yells at you...maybe I can help." Then Gossamer makes a strange trilling sound you have come to know as her 'evil laugh' - meaning she is thinking of a particularly good prank to pull...
Zinny frowns when Gossamer speaks, kicking a pebble out of the path unhappily, then bites her lip at Gossamer's evil laugh.
"....whatever you're thinkin' of doin', don't," she says with her brows furrowed. "You sound like Hugo. Momma don't mean nothin' bad, she just worries, an' she needs me to help out. Sometimes you gotta work hard, thass all..."
The big girl brightens, thinking of the trip with the tinkers that waits ahead. "We'll go have fun travelin' with them colorful folk. Don't you worry none about Momma, we ain't gonna see her for days and days."
When they reach the Whip, Zinny will do her best to sneak into the kitchen and scrawl a crude note for her mother to leave on the table there. She's not a very sneaky girl, really, but she knows where all the creaky floorboards are, anyway.
MOMMA
GONN TO HELP FOKE THAT AR SIKK
I WIL BE CAIRFULL
PLEAS DO NOT BE MAD
LOVE
ZINNY
Then, she furtively attempts to grab the rest of her things... and slip back out towards the camp, if her mother doesn't discover her in the process. Or if Gossamer doesn't take ~actions~ of his own.