Signey looks at Reynwyn, glancing over his harsh looking wounds, before dashing over to Kehlann.
"I'm sorry I only have enough magic left to heal one person without a rest, and well... he is the one paying us." she looks around guiltily before laying her hands upon him and pushing the heat of her faith into his wounds.
Reynwyn winces and coughs harshly as he leans against the front wagon. He nods at Signey's wisdom. "I will survive, Signey, no mere band of goblins will bring me low. I agree that this will be for nothing, should Kehlann not survive."
He glances around at his companions and points to the arrow still sticking out of his chest. "Would one of you be so kind as to remove this for me?"
Carric quickly assesses the arrow, and pulls it out, staunching the wound with a bit of cloth.
He wraps the wound across his stomach, and then waits for the healing by Signey before saying,
Apparently, the goblin scum ran off with an important package, I will attempt to pick up the trail. What exactly are we trying to retrieve?
When Revjak hears of something being stolen, he listens even more intently.
"I will stand guard here, or accompany Carric, as you need of me."
He seems to barely notice the scimitar slash on his back.
After receiving Signey's healing touch, Kehlann groggily comes back to consciousness. Hearing Carric's question, he coughs, then says, "A lockbox. Its contents are... very important. Worth our lives, or mine at least. We must retrieve it. But perhaps we should get to Melton first, regain our footing. We have a number of wounded, and it's not far..."
We need to establish the trail first. Come, Revjak, you can give me a hand.
Carric begins to try and establish the trail of the goblin leaving the wagon with the lockbox. He will mark it as he goes so that they can return to find it.
"I am with Kehlann, that we may want to recuperate first, but finding the trail is prudent, Carric. I am no coward, but I'm gravely injured and fear I would be more of a burden than help. I will send my raven with you to keep an eye out from above. If you run into trouble yell very loudly and he will return to us here."
It takes a good twenty minutes, but Carric and Revjak manage to locate the light tread of a goblin believed to be the one that took the lockbox. It heads east initially, turns north, then crosses back west, heading back to cross the road a couple hundred of yards north of the caravan's current position. By this time, it has been joined by another set of goblin-sized tracks. Carric notes this point with a series of placed rocks.
While Carric and Revjak scout around for tracks, the rest tend to each other, as many of you are seriously injured. Wounds are cleaned and dressed, and for Lavina , Kehlann produces a small healing potion. Borric has a punctured lung and is housed in Kehlann's wagon. Kehlann himself is half-healed, with a small gut wound still remaining, but he puts on a brave face and sits up beside Sillon on the driver's bench.
As the train of wagons rolls off again Kehlann thanks you all for protecting him and his wagons from the bandit force; "Without each and every one of you, Sillon and I would be dead, and the wagons stolen." He mentions a hefty bonus if the lockbox is recovered, but his fever soon overtakes him again, and he slumps back on the bench, his head lolling.
In an hour, the hearthfire smoke of Melton can be seen rising out of a small valley. Fifteen minutes later, you arrive at the gate to Melton, wooden and reinforced with steel, set into the high wall that surrounds the small town. An old, weathered face appears at the top of the gate, illuminated by a lantern held beside it. "Who goes there?" growls a female voice.
"I am Signey, we're escorting Kehlann's Caravan, we were beset on the way and have wounded." Signeys voice sounds out calm and clear.
Revjak hurries along with the elven warrior.
After finding that goblin meeting point, he is clearly frustrated:
"Tempos blast those goblins! For this many, we will need all of our trib--our strength. Let us return to the others."
You hear the woman grunt. "I'm the constable of this town. It's late, and the gate is closed. You'll have to wait till tomorrow. You could be brigands for all I know, we'll have a look at you by the light of day."
Piety watched the bustle of people moving back and forth.
I should probably be doing something, but I am unsure what I can do. I am not training in follow tracks, and I do not know about human anatomy to avoid further injuring the wounded.
Piety is quiet while the group moves, realizing that there is much he needs to know to fulfill his new role, and disquieted over his lack of ability to hit a Goblin.
As the group arrives, he expects the doors to be thrown open, but they are instead stymied by the leader of the watch. Shouting up, Piety says simply "Very well. I assume that you are willing to cover any funeral expenses and recompense to the families of the injured because you allowed them to die?" As he speaks, his voice sounds like boulders grinding together.
There's a pause from the top of the gate. "What do you mean, die?" she rasps uncertainly.
"Some of our wounded are in a poor state, if we could just get the people who are the worse injured to warm, dry beds we would be in your debt. I fear for infection otherwise."
Revjak grows impatient. He will let the devout one speak.
But he keeps an eye on the walls.
Reyneyn steps forward after Sidney seems to fail in impressing the Constabulary. ”Madam, we are reputable individuals that have been hired by a wealthy merchant to protect his wares from Mirabar to Waterdeep. We were set upon in the woods just beyond town. All of us were wounded, including our employer who is part of a very affluent merchant family. He has taken ill and wounded in battle. If he does not receive shelter this eve, he will likely die. And should he perish, because of your decision I will ensure that his family knows who it was that was the cause of his untimely death. They hold much influence in the north. I for one would not want to have them as an enemy, but you do as you feel is best for your safety.” He will step into the light to clearly display the blood on his clothes.
The constable holds forth the lantern, inspecting Reynwyn for ten seconds or more. "Right, well, don't get upset, I'm the constable, and it's my job to ask questions, and to look after this town. Wait a minute, I'll get Gogrin to open up." With that she disappears from the top of the gate.
Less than a minute later, you hear the unbarring of the gate, and it swings slowly open, admitting you to the town of Melton. The constable stands before you, a short woman in her fifties with two long grey braids and a pair of scimitars at her belt. She stands with her fists on her hips, watching the caravan enter. As it pulls inside, she approaches to talk to Sillon in the driver's seat.
"That your master there, is it?" she asks, jerking her head at the unconscious Kehlann. "He don't look so good. Should get him to the inn, the Weary Knight," and she indicates the crossroad ahead with her thumb. "They'll find you beds if nothing else, though you'll likely need to wake old Seth. Well, get going, and don't cause no trouble, hear? It's quiet here, and we like it that way." With that, she turns and retires to the little gatehouse, where a great ox of a man (Gogrin, presumably) stands outside. He gives a wave as you notice him, then turns his attention to shutting the gate again.
Revjak enters the town a bit more warily than the rest of the group have seen him in the wild. He is unused to the sights and smells of such a place. But he strides forward anyway.
Seeing the woman thumb a direction, he nods and walks alongside the caravan.
When the caravan arrives at the Weary Knight, he will speak up:
"I can carry Kehlann in. Just show me where to place him."
Reynwyn gives Gogrin and the Constable a nod of thanks. "We thank you for your understanding." He winces with each breath. "Have you any healers in this town? Herbalists? Midwives? Anything? If so, could you direct me to their dwelling so that I could rouse them to aid our employer? I'm afraid none of us are that experienced in the healing arts. I will make sure your benevolence is known to our man."
Carric, weary from the road, lopes into the Weary Knight behind Revjak, carrying their employer.
The constable turns after a few steps and addresses Reynwyn. "Aye, there's Mother Mahree, but she'll be abed. Seth'll send someone for her in the morning, no doubt. Now off, I've got to be abed meself." And she turns away again, this time with an air of finality.
The wagons reach the Weary Knight, a one-storey building with eight shuttered windows facing the muddy street, and Revjak offers to carry Kehlann. Sillon nods appreciatively to the big man and jumps off the driver's bench. He hurries to the front door of the inn and begins pounding on it, not obnoxiously, but with steady, measured blows. After some minutes, you hear the sound of bolts being drawn, and the door opens a crack to reveal the narrow face of an old man. Squinting with one eye, he peers sleepily at the colourful party. "What in the...? Hell's bells, who are you lot? Do you know what time it is? What do ye want?" he demands curtly.
After gleaning that you're after rooms, he waves his hands at you for quiet and pushes the door wide. He is attired in a nightdress and nightcap. "You'll have to stable the horse yourself, me boys have gone home. Fix me with some coin and I'll show you some rooms," he says grumpily as he walks across the small common room to a counter that serves as reception and bar. Even the muted warmth of the coals in the grate begin to relax your wearied bodies, and despite the innkeep's general lack of welcome, you are all glad to have arrived. Sillon takes out his purse and follows the innkeep to the counter.
Sillon also manages to convince the innkeep - Seth Grimhill - to give him directions for Mother Mahree, and he hares off to wake her. She arrives a half hour later, a grandmotherly woman who is almost short enough to pass as a halfling. She carries a holy symbol of Lathander, and though sleepy, is pleasant and caring. Sillon gives her a pouch of coins, which she promises to give to those in need, and after seeing at least briefly to everyone she heads back out into the night.
With Carric's help, Revjak brings the limp form of their wounded employer into what warmth the inn has to offer. He remains quiet as Sillon deals with the inn-keeper but will help stable the horses. At least with the handling of the animals.
********
When Mother Mahree arrives, he will be respectful towards her.
"Thank you, devout one. The ache is no more. Will Kehlann live? He was sore wounded by those goblins."
After receiving an answer, or none, he will go to his room. He is sufficiently exhausted that even an inn bed feels good to him.
Mother Mahree nods at Revjak's question. "Yes dear, he'll be fine," she assures him. She nods towards Signey. "It looks like your young lady there healed the worst of it, bless her."
Revjak nods his head.
"Good. She is also a devout one. What would be a shamaness in my tribe."
"You're a nice boy..." she murmurs, patting Revjak's arm absently before tending to Borric. "Not from around here though, are you dearie?"
Thank you for the healing. I will check on the animals before returning for a drink with you, Revjak.
"No, I am not, devout one. I am from near the Reghed Glacier, of the Tribe of the Elk. The shamans had a vision that I must go to Waterdeep. Why, I know not."
"Aye! It has been a long day, and an ale would go down well."
Reynwyn shoots an unpleasant look at the Constable as she departs, but says nothing further on his opinion of someone so utterly self-concerned. He joins the others at the Inn, relishing in the bit of warmth he can find and waits as patiently as he can through the pain for Mother Mahree to work her way to his wound. As the healing sets in, Reynwyn lets out a sigh of relief. "I thank you, madam. If you would allow me, I will escort you home when you are finished." He then settles into a comfortable chair with a heavy sigh. Feeling relatively safe for the first time in several days.
Signey looks coyly at Mother Mahree "I'm not really a healer, I just ask for aid and if I still have enough favor it comes." she looks at Revjak curiously, Shamaness seems to sit oddly with her for some reason, though it is as good a title as any.
Revjak turns to Signey, a smile on his face.
"You are enough of a healer to save Kehlann, and I think he will call you such. And my thanks for your divine aid earlier. I would be pulling out arrows and counting many cuts without it."
Piety, again unsure how to deal with the living and their near death, decides to help with the horses. He leads them into the stalls and then makes sure they have hay to eat and water in the trough.
During the night, Piety stood watch outside the door, an unmoving statue.
In the morning, Piety would join the others at the breakfast table and would allow his injuries to be tended by Mother Mahree, although he would not actually eat anything himself.
Carric enjoys some ales with Revjak and any others that will join them.
I have to say, I was again impressed with your battle prowess today, Revyak. I wish we could have defeated all of the goblins. We should probably get back on their trail early tomorrow. I was thinking of asking what exactly was in the Lockbox when our employer comes to.
Signey smiles at Revjack, "I try, I only wish I could have prevented more harm. Still, I'll just have to try and do better next time." a slight frown crosses her face, "But you did not have to come rushing to my aid, I thank you for your concern but you opened yourself up to attack - I can handle myself.", her tone is light, no trace of anger or offence, more concern that he came to harm trying to protect her.
She looks to Carric as he speaks, "Do you think you can pick up the trail tomorrow? I'm not especially good at woodcraft?"
Yes, I am confident I can, Signey. I am hoping we get some offer from our employer, when he feels up to it, for our retrieval services.
Revjak clunks his mug into Carric's before knocking back more ale.
"This southern stuff tastes good, even if it doesn't have the kick of ice ferment! And you held your own against the goblins. Tempos showed us favour this day!"
In response to Signey, Revjak sups a bit more ale then speaks in a jovial, light-hearted tone.
"Ah, do not worry so much for me! It'll take more than a goblin slash to fell a Reghedman, and I would not see you harmed to save my own hide."
Looking around at the others:
"That goes for the rest of you also! To boon companions!"
He raises his mug.
Signey raises a glass with the others, "I appreciate your aid, hopefully next time we fight together we fare a little better - and we can be the ones striking in ambush"
After returning from escorting the matronly healer back to her home, Reyn joins the others for a round of drinks despite the exhaustion he seems to feel. He sits quietly at first, listening to his companions talk of the skirmish. That was the closest he had ever come to dying and mentally thanks the Raven Queen for her intervention, as it was her that likely spared him. When the barbarian fellow proposes a toast, Reynwyn raises his glass. "Aye, to companions." He drinks a deep draught of his mug, relishing in the fact that they were all alive. "You all fought very well this night. I am ready to take fight to the goblins this time. I will be better prepared and show them of what I can truly capable."
"At the risk of sounding like I'm responsible, we should retire to sleep. The sooner we can wake and take up the trail, the quicker we can catch them and get Kehlann's precious cargo retrieved" Signey sighs.
"Aye, hunters must rest when they can."
Revjak stands up, downs the rest of his ale. He leaves the mug on the table with only a bit of a 'thunk'.
"Good night to you all and good hunting to us on the morrow!"
And with that, he begins to walk in the direction of his room. He is weary enough that even an inn bed sounds appealing right now.
The day dawns bright and cool, with a strong breeze blowing from the north-west. Seth Grimhill, the innkeep, is no more pleasant in the morning, but you get the sense he is a curmudgeon by nature, but not a bad fellow underneath that. He serves up a decent breakfast of eggs, sausage, and toasted bread, and by 10am everyone is up and ready to get moving.
After devouring at least one breakfast and any left overs from plates within reach, Revjak will enter Kehlann's room and ask:
"How do you feel, Kelhann? We made it to the inn."
Kehlann wakes slowly, and looks bemusedly at Revjak for a moment, blinking. "Er... yes, I feel much better, thank you Revjak. What time is it?" he enquires, peering out the window. Then his memory returns. "The lockbox...it's gone, isn't it?"
Reynwyn wakes the next day, blinking his eyes in the bright sunlight as he notices Jareth perched upon the windowsill staring out. He had been plagued by vivid dreams, but try as he might he cannot seem to recall the details. He gingerly takes a light breath, expecting the pain to come but remembers the healing they received the night prior. He takes a deeper breath this time, relishing the feeling before sending a mental command to Jareth who flutters from the windowsill to Reyn's shoulder.
He joins the other for breakfast and engages in small talk. "Been a while since I've had a nice, hot breakfast. Thank you, Mister Greenhill, for your hospitality!" He calls out between bites. "The daylight will aid us in our endeavor. I can have Jareth scout ahead unobtrusively while Carric tracks our quarry."
Signey heads to Kehlann's room, but Revjak appears to have beaten her to it, she listens a moment before entering, "Well, if I'd have realised you two were so close I'd have laid off the flirting." she smiles warmly, mischief in her eyes. "We are already making plans to pursue the goblins, no guarantee's, but we're trying."
Carric eats, and heads upstairs with Revjak.
About that lockbox, we are heading after it, now. What's in it?
Revjak chuckles at Signey's teasing.
"Aye, we will hunt the goblins. Raven and elf will make for fine trackers. But we must know what to seek."
Kehlann frowns weakly. "It holds gems, wealth, but also some... personal effects of mine that are very dear to me. I will reward you well if you manage to retrieve it for me once we reach Waterdeep, of that you can rest assured. And beyond that, I would consider it a huge personal favour, and would be forever in your debt, beyond gems and wealth."
He pushes himself into a sitting position. "It is a small, darkwood chest, 18 inches by 10. It has the Majarra family crest, a harp on a field of bars. If you need money for supplies, I can also help there. Just speak to Sillon, he will see you right."