The location of the meeting point in time was an old road heading south into the stolen lands. The only real designation was a old weathered sign post that had seen better days as it pointed north and south, one back into Brevoy, where it was simply labeled "Brevoy" and the other was slightly different, "Oleg Trading Post". The words were carved into the signpost and lacquered to give a black lettering. The surrounding lands was open hills, sparsely wooded with trees here and there with no real forest. Farther down the road you can see it follow the hills and slowly curve eastward ever so slightly before disappearing over the horizon.
The location was still a good distance away from the trading post the charter had mentioned, speaking of it being the farthest location south. It would be a good location for the motley group of explorers to use as a base of operations while exploring the greenbelt that the charter gave the group rights to.
The sun was high, the breeze soft and warm and the clouds no where to be seen, it was sure to be nice traveling weather.
Grimdël marches in silence besides his companions toward Oleg's wondering what lies ahead. His musings are interrupted by Savarend and his question.
The squat dwarf runs his fingers through his thick black beard and unconciously places his other hand on his war-axe as he contemplates his answer.
"Only one way to find out," he eventually offers as his dark eyes smolder in the sunlight. His Bear Axe-Jaw follows closely on his heels.
Ike when sober has a pleasant voice and has on occasion broken into song as he trudges along.
"Under the Mountain dark and tall
The King has come unto his hall!
His foe is dead, the Worm of Dread,
And ever so his foes shall fall.
The sword is sharp, the spear is long,
The arrow swift, the Gate is strong;
The heart is bold that looks on gold;
The dwarves no more shall suffer wrong.
The dwarves of yore made mightly spells,
While hammers fell like ringing bells
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.
On silver necklaces they strung
The light of stars, on crowns they hung
The dragon-fire, from twisted wire
The melody of harps they wrung.
The mountain throne once more is freed!
O! wandering folk, the summons heed!
Come haste! Come haste! across the waste!
The king of friend and kin has need.
Now call we over mountains cold,
'Come back unto the caverns old'!
Here at the Gates the king awaits,
His hands are rich with gems and gold.
The king is come unto his hall
Under the Mountain dark and tall.
The Worm of Dread is slain and dead,
And ever so our foes shall fall!"
What is less pleasant about traveling with Ike is the smell traces of wet animal fur, vomited ale and worse mingle with the musky sent of a dwarf who roams the wild. Sure he has bought some gear and the need of travel has curbed his considerable appetite for drink. But his hair and beard are course and in places stiff.
Ike grunts at Savarend's question but after a moments thought mentions, "Any reports be stretched in da telling but swamps carry the real danger, trolls, lizardmen or worse . . . I hate swamps. Rumors of fey things but such tales strain belief." He shrugs at Grimdel's assessment. "Riverlands be full o' brigands, even da spoken 'law' o' da region holds a begrudging respect fer those who'd beat ya fer coin." He chuckles into a cough , "But that's what da hammers fer."
"Th'brewer's right" Ulfgar confirms, "that smell o' yers'll chase off food an' bring th'scavengers coming."
As the band of dwarves trudges on, the rustic dwarf absentmindedly lifts the small bundle of dried mistletoe that hangs from his from his necklace and sniffs it. Somewhat tall, and broad even for a dwarf, he's fairly handsome with a long heavy red braid falling from his half-shaved head, and a chest-length beard of thick red braids. It hadn't taken long for his new companions to notice that he wasn't a typical dwarf though. His leather armor is studded with stones and reinforced with strips of shell on the shoulders and forearms and his weapons are all made in the styles popular generations ago. Still, he's already proven to be an able hunter and gatherer, and pretty handy with the longaxe he carries.
Ike half-heartedly smirks at the jesting. "Are ye sure ye na wide loaded gnome Savarend? Were it not fer year brew I'd be suspect." His demeanor flushes angry, "I had but one wife!" His eyes fiery, Me clan and family is gone! How dare . . . He swallows his anger and painfully adds, "and she I doubt could be improved upon." His trudge slows allowing him to linger back from the others lost in a melancholy. His hand pulls at the folds of his clothing absently. Running his fingers over the lines in the plaid pattern, that of the lost Golka dwarves.
It wouldn't take much longer then the better part of a day to continue your travels to the outpost. The marry little band of dwarves took there time as there was no rush to get to the post. As the day waned and the sun crested the sky, you were already well down the road, making the final roundabout.
It was then you could see a wooden outpost, standing along, set off from the road just a little ways with a well worn road leading towards the thirty foot wide gate. The outpost walls were roughly ten feet high along with twenty foot wide square watchtowers. Each of the watchtowers are armed with run-down catapults left over from the sites original use as a border fort. The catapults are in obvious disrepair which is easily noticed by the dwarven eye.
The trading post is known as Oleg's Trading Post, a very lack luster name for something so far out. The post was located at the southern edge of Rostland (and thus Brevoy). To the south of the outpost the green line of the Narlmarches looms only a few miles away.
As you approach the outpost, you can see a man on a roof, hammering away at some tiles, and a women stirring something in a large cauldron over an open fire near some benches.
Ike grumbles a sentence illegibly staring off toward the marshes.
Ike regards the simple fort appraising it, "Seems under manned and in disrepair to be in such dangerous lands."
"Definitely not of Dwarven make" Grimdël remarks with a frown upon seeing the outpost.
"I've had a few compliments on m'tongue b'fore," Ulfgar answers with a laugh, "but I'm not much fer talking t'people..."
Ike sighs growing tired of even the scant deliberations. He mumbles as he passes the other dwarves. "He be a trader . . . a businessman. A few coin be worth more than elven minstrels gilding on the Lilly." H turns to Savarend "'Sides I doubt he has you gnomish perfumer's nose."
Ike straightens his stiff mustache and grimaces as he catches his own scent. I have been sober too long, they are right I reek.
Ike calls out as they step near the gate, "Well met. Heard this was da last friendly stop a fore one crosses in ta da green belt." He looks about with an uncharacteristic friendly smile. "We were hoping fer a nights rest and perhaps some supplies, we have business in the lands hereabouts. I be Can- I be Dalon Ikenstone, folks alls call me Cantankerous Ike, at year service."
"Oh!" chimed a cheery lady, as she pulled her hair back with a smile, tying it back she picked up her dress and scurried over, her lips parting in the sweetest smile, before they slightly falter as she caught the scent of the speaking dwarf. She kept the smile though, too overjoyed by the arrival of the company. "Oh you must be the aids! Oh thank the heavens, I was beginning to worry that you will never show!" she turns her attention to Oleg who was currently repairing a leak in the roof. "Oleg deary! Come meet the new arrivals!" she turns to them with a broad smile again. "I prepared some food and drinks for when you arrived! I'm so happy your here. I hope your enough to scare the trouble away." she would try to usher the dwarves in towards the benches, where a hearty stew of deer meat and assorted vegetables waited. On one of the benches two bottles of wine have been uncorked and set next to a couple warmed loafs of bread. "Your more then welcome to stay and resupply here, but..." she paused for a moment her smile slowly fading, "You have business elsewhere? Are you not here to deal with the bandits?" Her voice took a worried tone. "Oh dear me, forgive me, I'm Svetlana Leveton, a pleasure to meet you."
Oleg took his time to finish what ever he was doing to climb back down and walk over, sweat dripping from his face. He gave a short curt nod to the dwarves, "Hey." His greeting was short and gruff, his eyes watching the dwarfs suspiciously. "So they only send four of ye short'uns to deal with the rabble?" he said in a displeasing tone. "By the smell of one of ye, you could probably scare them away without lifting a finger!"
Ike looks at the others a moment. He smiles and reassures Svetlana"You were expecting us I see. Our mission includes bandits, do the scum bother ye even here? We will put an end Ta that."
Ike in half jest eyes Oleg, "Bandits dead by hammer axe or stink seems a blessing I will leave it ta ye ta gage the size of da blessing."
"Food would be a good place to start," Grimdël agrees as his stomach loudly rumbles. He slaps Ike on the shoulder, "I think we all be preferring the axe or hammer."
"I don't usually kill things 'less it's fer food 'r self d'fence..." Ulfgar chimes in between ladling huge bites of stew into his mouth, "but I s'ppose if they're a menace to ya already they'd be a menace t'us soon enough anyway..."
"Hmph, so you didn't come for the bandits like we asked, but willing to do it because of convenience? Typical..." the man started but was cut off by the wife giving him a stern look before turning back to the dwarves after have leading them to the food.
"The bandits should be here tomorrow actually. They have been collecting valuables in return of them not setting out post on fire. They've been harassing us for months now." Svetlana began, moving to make sure that all the dwarves got a heaping serving of stew. Oleg walked over to grab some himself before sitting down on a bench, looking at the dwarves in collection.
"I think you should ambush 'em, right when they come in, you could hide in the stables while they be collecting their damn f!@$ing taxes." he spat at the ground in disgust before shoveling a spoonful of stew into his mouth. "That's my idea, I want them dead for their harrassment, they've even been vulgar with my wife!"
Svetlana continue the short synapse, "They came in a huge group the first month, but over the months they've gotten lax with us... fewer and fewer men appear to collect from us, so they definitely wont be expecting your armed resistance."
"How many ya expectin'?"
Oleg chimed in, "I'm betting four to six of em."
Ike looks around, "That be a solid enough plan." He looks at the opening in the wall, "does the gate close. It might do to shut them in." He pauses and looks at Oleg seriously, "We were sent fer bandits in da Greenbelt, they did not tell us of yer personal troubles. We will help all da same."
"Perhaps after some vittles ye can show us around, I know some of da boys here were eyeing the siege weapons."
Grimdël nods his head in agreement as he thinks, Just like a human to look a gift horse in the mouth. We agree to take care of the bandits and he complains about our motivation. Alound he voices, " A fine plan it be."
Ike eats loudly and seems mostly gregarious in small talk. When talk turns to planning "Acid? . . . if I recall these scoundrels be collecting their 'taxes' as ye said, is it only coin? Or be they expecting supplies?" Ike looks about at the stables and the grounds. "Acid could work. Fill some crates, sacks and boxes with bait when they move to collect acid, arrows, seal da gate so's they can't get away. Might just work. Lest you think fire might be more fearsome than acid."
all this planning sounds like the work of humans or gnomes... what's wrong with waiting inside and giving 'em a good ole fashion dwarven a$$kicking?
Finishing off his stew, Ulfgar cranes his neck in the direction of the pot trying to glimpse if more is available. In response to the coalescing plan he offers, "I'll stand by th'wall inside th'gate an' kill 'em with m'axe while you all do that."
Grimdël enjoys the fare put before him and between bites he adds, "Acid sounds good." He continues to enjoy the meal, "Pass the salt."
While he salts his food he adds, Might be wise if we be trying to take some prisoners."He places the salt shaker down and takes a bite of food, "Probably best if I'm on the ground with Ulfgar and me bear."
He picks up the salt and adds a little more salt.
Svetlana smiled and nodded her thanks to the compliment of the food as she moved about to dish up anything more if they asked for it. Oleg begun to take precedence over answering the questions as the wife was moving to get some more food prepared.
"Coin, supplies, whatever they can get their grubby hands on. They try to take my entire stock if I had any left!" He shook his head as he grabbed a wine bottle by the neck to take a swig before setting it back down. "The catapults aren't able to fire, they've been in disrepair for god knows how long, they wouldn't work when I first set up shop here and I'm no engineer."
"When they first came there was almost like a small army of them, most of them were men, cept one vile women. She had an eye for dis-maiming anything that moved at her wrong. She was distinct cuz she had two hatchet. Most men were rabble but there was a hooded guy who carried a bow. He seemed important. After the first time they came, it was only the hooded man, and the size of the group he accompanied got smaller each visit."
Svetlana chimed in then, "The horrid woman stole my wedding ring! Saying it was payment for not 'Shortening Oleg's reach', it was horrible. It's been months since I had that ring."
Ike fingers his own wedding ring, he pounds the table pulping himself out of his thoughts, "We'll get your ring back if we can and justice short of that."
Grimdël finishes his meal and pushes his plate away, "While Savarend mixes his brews why don't the rest of us be checking out the barn."
Svetlana seemed a bit perturbed with the idea of getting involved in the fight. "I'm sorry, unless you need help making something I'd rather stay out of the fight."
Oleg grunted, "I'll help, I'd like to kick their asses for what they've done."
Ike nods approvingly at Oleg's bravado.
Ulfgar slurps down the last of his second bowl of stew and, grabbing one more hunk of bread, announces, "Grimdël's right, best someone gives us a tour so we can get th'lay of th'land."
Rising from the table he stuffs the bread in his mouth and picks up his longaxe.
Oleg stands and moved to give the other dwarves a quick tour of the outpost. There were a few buildings, a small warehouse where he keeps most of his stock of wares and good, stable which a few horses were penned up in. In the back are a few dug out pits with cages set atop of them, mainly for keeping wild beasts or animals locked up for safe keeping. In the front to the right there is a small sleeping quarters then there is the house they have in the back right. The outpost is pretty small with all considering, but pretty roomy for just two people. The walls were only 5 foot thick, and the only way up were ladders.
Ike wanders with the others looking on appraising and asking questions here and there.
Ulfgar follows along without asking any questions. He pays attention to where everything is but mostly notes where and how fleeing enemies might try to hide or escape.
Grimdël follows along the on Oleg's tour staying silent. Upon seeing the cages he remarks, "Perhaps we can use those pits in the back to keep prisoners in."
bears do not take prisoners... I suppose though if they're humans or elves they might surrender... let's hope they're orcs.
"Prisoners... yeah, perhaps," Ulfgar mumbles skeptically as they wander past the cages.
Oleg seemed a bit useless when it came to aiding the creation of the acid, his hands were clumsy so he decided to resign himself and work on the fort, fixing a nasty leak he was trying to solve before. Svetlana on the other hand seemed to be very deft in the help. Though her knowledge of such things were still next to none, so her help ended up in the result of some extra acid, having not measured the ingredients to the line and had been a bit generous. But it worked out in Saverands favor as two extra vials could be made from the extra liquid.
Oleg had caught the words of keeping prisoners again, and he mumbled lightly as he began to bang away at the roof once more. His sentiments about prisoners were the same with Ulfgar, but he keeps it to himself. Svetlana likes the idea of prisoners and no bloodshed, and she does make it known, but off-handily.
Once the tour is complete. Ike looks at the others. "Now that we seen da lay o' da land I think de cursory plan seems good." He looks to Oleg, "My first suggestion would be to lure them into da courtyard close them in and unleash hell on them. But its yer home Oleg if ya want da dogs outside yer gate we can adjust. We wish no harm on ya?"
Oleg took the vials that were given to him and would go off and find a good enough spot to place them where he deemed he would be safe enough from the combat.
Returning he would address Cantankerous suggestion. "Trap 'em in with no escape? I Like that idea. The fighting would happen inside anyhow." He gave a shrug with that.
Svetlana would visibly blush, "Glad I could be of help! You are more then welcome to rest in the sleeping quarters for the night when you are ready, I will make supper in a few hours time."
The time of day was a bit in the afternoon, waning slightly as the sun has passed its zenith.
Ike looks about at the other dwarves, "I can close da gate once they be coming inside and then joining the scrum. Savarend my guess be you be planning on chucking acid and hitting them at range. I know Ulfgar and da bear will be wanting to take da fight to them along with Grimdel We all just need to stay out o' sight till de signal an catch em with der pants hung bout da ankle. Anything ye all wants to add."
"Sounds good, Grimdël affirmed with a grim smile.
"I can make m'self ten foot tall," Ulfgar offers, "may be best if ya bring misfortune. As for stayin' outta sight... we could just hide behind th'doors till they're closed."