"Let us feast!" Roga says, gesturing emphatically with a boar haunch. He eats and drinks until he's fit to burst, then eventually falls asleep in his chair at the table.
This boar rousted us out of bed this morning. It's only right, that we feast on him this evening. Jutmon smiles. And a true cause for celebration: Freedom.
Jutmon eats and drinks in moderation, but he does so all night. Or at least he tries to. He talks with the men and dances with the ladies, and morning finds him, passed out under one of the trestle tables.
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After Nareth spends a few hours amongst the noise and company, he excuses himself and goes off a little ways into the woods. He takes a few deep breaths Ah so many people, I was hoping this journey would only be in the company of few He finds a log and sits down, nursing his drink and waiting to see if Oleg comes by.
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Oleg and Svetlana arrive, as promised, early in the midnight hour. Their oversized wagon and tired old draft horses loaded to bursting with kegs, dried rations, soap, traps, and various other necessaries for the various groups of wild men and women of the Greenbelt. Hours are spent unloading the wagon, and three to four times as long taking in furs, skins, and tons of wild fruits, vegetables, grains, and all manner of dried wild meats. The long line of men and women are putting their names or marks in an enormous tome. Credit is assigned or deducted as appropriate. As you near the table, Svetlana whispers something to Oleg before standing and walking over to meet you.
"I have to admit, we are a little surprised to see you all alive and together still. Most of your Swordlords' groups die or go bandit within the first week."
Jutmon has a mug of ale in one hand and a chop from the boar in the other. Heh. You should be surprised. A troll had us lined up for dinner, but settled for horse meat instead.
The Wizard sets his chop down to give Oleg an oily handshake, and a hug for Svetlana. It's good to see you two well. I missed your cookin' Oleg.
Inuki will offer to entertain with songs and tales, maybe even an inspirational story (Perform: Oratory) if the mood is right.
Sergei will keep to himself and stay silent. He watches the gathering with a slight smile at times though. It is good to see people gather and celebrate together in the midst of all the dangers that surround them. He nods his head to Oleg and his wife when they arrive as way of recognition but he doesn't say anything when Oleg suggests they would have died or become bandits by now.
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The night passes well, festivities all around you are free to indulge in and explore. In addition, Oleg has a portable shop set up in the back of his wagon. Throughout the evening various performers take turns performing, and some even make a decent amount of coin. Taking his turn at the stage, Inuki regales the crowd gathered with the tales of your exploits thus far in the Greenbelt, and manages to earn silver pieces, in addition to several cups of wine and ale. Night passes, and the morning is harsh and bright. A long night of drinking and partying has taken its toll on those of you who took part in the festivities.
It is well past noon before the rest of the camp is dismantled and the throngs of people disappear in their own directions in their own time.
Jutmon wakes with a sore head and a chill in his bones. He catches Oleg and Svetlana, before they leave, and purchases a warm sheepskin vest to wear under his blue cloak. He adds a pair of thick wool trousers, and fur-lined leather boots as well. Winter is coming on, it's best to be prepared for it.
Inuki will be sure to drink sparingly and share his offered drinks with his friends, having seen his share of drunks working at his father's inn, but he will stay up late sharing songs and tales with the others and hoping to learn some of the local lore.
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The next four days and nights pass without any issue. The weather is turned to a well and solid winter, temperatures regularly drop below zero, and jokes and jests are shared about the who reminded whom to buy appropriate clothing. The foraging for the horses is becoming more difficult as the snow levels rise. So far the horses seem content to graze through the snow, scraping down to earth as necessary with their large hooves.
The as you are preparing to make camp on the fourth night, Inuki spots smoke and lights not too far distant. A small hovel not more than a quarter mile away.
"Might be a warm place to spend the night, might be a trap. Someone sneaky wanna go take a look?"
Inuki volunteers to scout it out but waits to see if the party or at least someone will approach with him, remembering the troll incident.
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Approaching the house is a simple task. Peeking into the window you notice an old man sleeping in his chair. A cheery fire casts its warm glow around the small building. Many pots and pans line the chimney. A large kettle hangs over the fire, no smoke or steam rises indicating that the large black vessel is empty. An ample store of firewood is stacked left of the fireplace from floor to ceiling. Outside there is a large store of firewood filling a small eight by eight foot shed. Peering in from the back window, you see an apothecaries table with a small lab set up on top. Hundreds of small cubby drawers line the walls with meticulously printed labels. You can make out maidenhair, laurel, lovage, juniper, kelp, fenugreek, mandrake, galingale, toadstool, myrrh gum, linseed, hyssop, and nightshade. As you scan you notice that there seems to be a method to the drawers. Although you see that there is a pattern, you do not have any idea what it might mean or how it might be organized.
Jutmon too, remembers the troll. He remembers being terrified. Unfortunately, he also remembers, that he is one of the more skilled in the party, when it comes to stealth. (mostly having to do with the lack of heavy armor.)
He follows along behind Inuki at about ten paces distance.
Inuki walks back to confer with Roga and Jutmon, telling them of what he saw. "Seems harmless, just an old man. Some kind of apothecary? Should we introduce ourselves?"
Maybe he'll let us stay the night. It would be nice to have a roof over our heads.
"Lets. But don't completely drop you guard. Don't eat anything he gives us, or drink anything."
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Soon after you knock, you hear the yappy fitful barking of some form of canine, followed by scraping and scuffling as the old man slowly unfolds himself from his chair. A drowsy, old man answers the door, "Who's hurt and do you have coin?"
As his bleary eyes, heavy with cataract, struggle to focus on the group at his door, he sighs, "If you are not injured, why pray tell did you drag this old healer out of bed in the middle of the night? Never mind. If you are looking for somewhere to sleep, you can sleep in the shed if you will fit. No strangers in my house.[/b]" With that, he begins to shut the door, a large mastiff and a smaller fox like dog slip between his legs, staring out as the door slams in your face.
"Aye. This snow is awful. We can talk more with him in the morning. Same watches as usual?"
Dragged you out of bed, to remind you, to pull your kettle off the fire, before you burn the bottom out of it. Jutmon tells the old man.
We were looking for a roof over our heads too. I'm sure your shed will do for that.
Jutmon nods absently to Roga. Probably a good idea.
"Don't count on it." Sergei said. He was waiting on everyone to be ready again so he cleaned and worked on the pistol that he kept at his hip.
Inuki will try to approach the man again, explaining our mission, and that we are glad to meet a healer, and asking if he has had any trouble with bandits.
Well, it was nice to have a shelter for the night...
Jutmon says, then pauses. He realizes no introductions have been made.
My name is Jutmon Symber. Late of Andoras. Perhaps we will be back to buy some of your brews.
Jutmon grabs the old man's hand and gives it a gentle couple of shakes.
Nice to meet you... He hopes the old fellow will provide a name for himself.
Roga simply watches the exchange with one eye, while he packs his things and prepares Midnight for the day's ride.
"Can you make a potion that would let me speak to animals?"
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"Yes, as a matter of fact I could," the old man answers, his hand pulling quickly back to avoid Jutmon's attempt to shake his hand. As his hand recoils you notice he is missing a finger, noticing your look, the old man explains “Bastard cut that offa me the last time he hit my mother, Desna rest her soul. But he took off right after to live in a hollow tree down south rather than face the guards, so I guess it all worked out well enough.”
"You can call me Bokken, since Bokken is my name." he mutters, "You look young and fit enough I suppose. I am too old to go trouncing about in the damned winter storms, but I need enough fangberry juice for seven potions. Make sure they’re not dirty... I don’t bother washing the berries before I use them. Sucks the magic right out I say. Do this and I will give you all a 25% discount on all potions for a month. No longer. Sixteen days without a horse. Southwest, past the river a day or so. When you take the rickety old rope bridge across the river Thorn you are close. Can't miss em. Glow in the dark. Svetlana said something about needing radishes. They grow near there too. Little closer. Wait. Lot closer. Ask her if ya like. They don't glow in the dark. Moonradishes they are called. Boars love em. Look for boars."
The old man will continue to ramble starting new thoughts mid sentence, short abrupt, and over all flighty. Almost like talking to a three year old who has just learned to explain concepts. Many sentences start out on one topic, and finish with the conclusion of a sentence he spoke three seconds ago. Very frustrating. However, you are able to get a decent sense of where you need to go for the two tasks he mentioned, or at least a fifteen square mile approximation of where to look.
MAP
Well, we don't have any leads at all, for Svetlana's wedding band. Jutmon sighs. I suppose we could get her some of those radishes.
If boars like moon radishes, I wonder what sort of creature feeds on fangberries?
Jutmon grins. Probably something with fangs.
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Day 1:
Night 1:
Day 2:
Night 2:
Day 3:
Night 3:
Day 4:
Night 4:
Day 5:
Night 5:
Day 6:
Night 6:
Day 7:
Night 7:
An entire week of travel, and no signs of danger. Winter has definitely arrived, swirling snow chases you through the planes daily as you trudge along. Hunting and gathering has gotten slightly more difficult as well.
DC 12, for self, an additional person per 2 you pass by. (Standard DC is 10, +2 for adverse err... unfavorable conditions)
After seven days of wandering, you have managed to scrounge and hunt up enough to cover only just over half of what you are consuming on a daily basis. Fortunately, the food you packed up from the feast is able to cover your deficiencies.
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At 50'
At 30'
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
Surprise Round:
A large hairy eight legged beast erupts from a trap door cleverly hidden under the snow, launching himself at Nareth. The beast lands solidly on the surprised cleric, its green ichor covered fangs piercing the exposed skin on the back of Nareth's neck. . Nareth's skin goes even more pale as the wretched creature injects the poor soul with a substantial dose of venom. .
Sergei has a surprise Round action, then the order is:
Spider, Nareth, Sergei, Inuki, Roga, and Jutmon.
Sergei scrambles to load his pistol as the spider jumps on Nareth. He knew the time was limited so he didn't bother to dismount yet.
Inuki's voice rings out in an inspiring battle cry, rousing his allies to greater courage.