30th Marponeth, 1357 DR
The first days travel has come to an end and the trade caravan prepares for the long night. You covered 15 miles today; the caravan master, Cheston Velnik, seems pleased with the progress made, despite having to take the longer route, via Saharkhan, rather than through the purple hills. He seems less enthused with the caravan's members. Most of his displeasure seems to centre on the wagon driven by the bounty hunter, Natasha, and on the prisoner within, though he has said little to anyone but the caravan's jack of all trades, a halfling girl by the name of Kathai.
There are 18 wagons altogether, mostly filled with trade goods bound for distant Zazesspur. Aside from the assorted drovers, guards and other personnel, there are several individuals of interest in the caravan who seem notable: it is around this evenings campfire that your characters can get together and introduce yourselves. Velnik is at the fire, as well as his chief scout, Velma, a young human woman of perhaps 20 winters, her pretty face marred by a scar running from above her right eye down to her nose. The bounty hunter, Natasha, sits sullenly away from the fire and says little. Her prisoner is still within the wagon.
The night is quiet and clear; Selune is showing her full face tonight, her tears barely visible in the light of the full moon. As the autumn night gets cooler, the campfire looks more appealing; maybe now would be a good time to get to know each other?
Dot
Velma, the young ranger with the scarred face, looks around the campfire at all the quiet faces. You're a quiet bunch! Not a bad habit to have on the trail, mind you, but maybe a little less desirable around the fire, where companionship is more welcome.
She looks at the two female elves that have come to the fire and her eyes narrow for a moment. Forgive my staring, but you two have the look of kin upon you. Is it so? Or perhaps all elves look alike to mortal eyes? She winks as she says this, clearly intending no offense. The scar on her face is truly a pity; she'd be a pretty girl otherwise, with an almost elfin look to her face, though her close-shorn hair makes her look almost boyish.
Velnik sighs and lights his pipe; the sweet scent of purple hills tobacco is carried into the air by the gentle breeze as the night grows cooler. Goin' ta be a long road tomorrow, I reckon, he exhales deeply, looking at Velma I'm thinking we'll be within bowshot of Krennasar tomorrow night, if Shaundakul speeds our steps.
And Mielikki stave off any delays, Velma replies, looking at the stars above and saying nothing else.
Evenor looks for a place outside the lights of the fires to let his eyes adapt to the darkness, his mind wanders back home. These same stars are shining upon Suldenesselar... how things have changed Seeing that the caravan seems well guarded he decides to go find something to eat and make some small talk.
"What is a Krennasar and why do you need so many of your gods to avoid it?"
The smelly dwarf most of you have been avoiding sits down near the fire as he says this. Leaning to the side he noisily breaks wind before gathering a scrap of dinner out of his beard and eating it. Despite the ease of the journey so far he is still clad in his armor, the cheap metal plates are dirty with several dents in them, but tellingly the armor itself is well maintained, as are the weapons at his side.
"I don't know about the rest of you but the sooner we get paid the better. There's been too little action on this journey for my liking."
Velnik stares for a moment at the dwarf, taking a long draw from his pipe before answering. Krennasar is a town, sir Dwarf, and while we'll not avoid it, nor shall we enter it's walls - why pay the toll if we do not have too, hmm? It is, however, the halfway mark to Saharkhan, and thus a landmark on our journey. He exhales deeply I'd rather have taken the road through the purple hills, but the little folk are watchful of their borders, and not so eager to let caravans pass as they were before this land became sundered.
The young ranger, Velma, adds wryly Shouldn't you consult with Natasha on when you get paid, master Dwarf? After all, you are guarding that vile criminal in the wagon, are you not? She smiles knowingly, nodding towards Natasha, who is sharpening her scimitar and remains silent at the very periphery of the campfire.
Inwë sits silently looking at the flames. Her hand firmly grasped by her sister. It seemed strange to be holding her hand, with a sideways glance she noticed certain looks or mannerisms that confirmed that she was that long lost sister, but then she didn't know her really, and at times felt the inclination to withdraw her hand from this strangers grip. The meeting had been a bit awkward in the beginning, and still was to a certain extent, but she still desired to know this beautiful stranger. Inwë had been a bit older when they were separated, and remembered a little about her sister, and even the older sister, and the babe...but they had been apart for so long. This was by all accounts a familiar stranger".
"I'm sorry we've not been more talkative". "It's been a long day, and there is so much to say, it is almost too overwhelming to begin". I am called Inwë, and am a priestess of Sehanine Moonbow". "And if you'll excuse me, I can see the moon has risen, and I must find a high spot to offer my prayers".
With that the lithe elven woman rises to her feet, and walks a short distance from the campsite, looking for a higher spot of ground, or an outcropping of rock that might offer her an clear glance at the Selune.
Another person who seems more interested in sharpening his weapon than talking is the Northman at the edge of the fire.
His whetstone makes a rhythmic sound as he polishes an axe that already looks sharp enough to shave with; something that apparently has happened more than once if the camp gossip can be believed.
The fact that he has joined the fire at all is unusual, as he tends to keep to himself most of the time.
In the firelight, the vast collection of scars that covers his arms are clearly visible, a collection too vast to have been earned in battle alone.
Evenor eyes follow Inwë as she leaves A priestess of Sehanine? What is she doing among humans? In a caravan! The sound of weapons sharpening attracts his atention as he turns again to see Natasha and Ruhk. Shouldn't we be silent to make sure we detect any enemies before it's too late? He moves towards Ruhk and sees the scars covering his arms... he stops for a second and sits near him before asking I wouldn't want to meddle in your affairs, but that's an impressive collection of scars for somebody so young. Were all of them earned in battle?
Surprised at being addressed, Ruhk frowns and looks Evenor over. It was not the first time he had seen him true, but the first time he had seen him up close like this.
At first Ruhk hesitates, continuing his ritual sharpening of the axe blade, contemplating just dismissing the question with a grunt, but in the end he forces himself to relent.
"Some...not all but some."
He indicates a large crescent shaped scar on his right bicep.
"This one is from a throwing axe, Rugnar Half toe bet me he could hit an apple in my hand from 50 steps without hurting me...he was drunk, so it was a poor bet...but then again, I was drunk too."
He then indicates a long jagged line that begins at his left shoulder and ends halfway up his neck.
"Spear thrust...was a rusty spear too, I had to stay in bed for a month with fever."
He sighs.
"Most of the other scars...as well as those on my chest and legs were NOT earned in battle."
Vestilet watches everyone the near the camp fire. He gauges each as he watches. After doing this he listens silently as they speak. He thinks on why he was sent here and what would be needed of him. He than looks up at the stars sending a pray to Helm before watching the others once more.
"Bah, scars, no scars, meaningless. Ye been in a fight and lived. Anything else is the swill humans call beer. Makes young fools drunk and old fools grateful."
The dwarf pulls a few twigs and other things out of his beard and throws them in the fire while staring into it. Although his words are strong it is clear his thoughts are black.
"Aye, she has my pay and I'll not see it until we reach the end of our road."
Cursed woman. She's hoping I'll die afore she has to pay me.
Hearing the loud voice of the dwarf provokes a snort from Ruhk, as if to say "Well obviously" to his statement.
Shaking his head, Ruhk returns to sharpening his axe, clearly irritated by something that was said.
Pray for our other sisters Inwe, Alendrethala thought with a dreamy look on her face.
The other elven girl who until recently was holding the hand of Inwe follows with her eyes the priestess for a few more seconds , then she plunges into the reading of different rolls of parchment, which she has extracted from the backpack.
A black cat with gray streaks never leaves her side, and tries to play with the clothes of the elven woman and each object that she takes in her hands.
The girl wears her long black curled hairs behind the neck and gathers them with the lapel of her coat
In the meanwhile she answers to the disfigured girl, Velma.
"Sorry, i'm a bit absent minded lately. Too many recent changes in my life to tell.But not all of them for the bad ,praise be Corellon.
I'm Alendrethala, a mage from the schools in Athkatla, please to meet you and all these noisy guys here"
Ruhk is finally satisfied with the edge of his battleaxe, running a finger over it until it draws blood he grunts in satisfaction. Carefully putting the axe down across his knees he instead produces a hand axe and slowly begins the process over again.
"One ounce of preparation is better than 10 000 arrows in the air, or so I was told once."
Kathai appears next to Vestilet and slides into place, using a carefully placed rock to give her the appearance of height.
Ooo... are we comparing scars?
Kathai shoves her left arm out and pulls her sleeve back. Jar of Butternut paste. My father startled me when I was sneaking a taste in the middle of the night. There was a jagged edge.
She waits a few moments as one by one everyone decides to ignore her, then leans a little closer to Vestilet and whispers...
Alendrethala, obviously irritated by the constant noise of grinding metal, stores the scrolls back and nods toward her cat to jump into her arms, an order which is executed enthusiastically with a leap and a meow.
"Come Nekat my love, let's see what this rude human is doing, apart from hampering my need to study"
This time she makes it so that to be sure the rest of the camp hear her.
Evenor takes an arrow out of his quiver as Ruhk stops sharpening his axe. Preparation is alright, but I prefer to hunt than to be hunted, how do you do to contain your impatience
Ruhk merely shakes his head and lets a smirk play across his lips as he covers it momentarily with the axe, as if to kiss the blade.
Elves...
"Simple, I store it up, channel it into rage to unleash against any foe foolish enough to come within axe reach, thus I become an even greater threat to them, making them regret making me wait for them..."
Ruhk nods, pleased with the way that came out. And since some people are getting tired of the noise, he instead takes out a book and begins to scan the pages slowly and methodically.
When one has two weapons, one has better remember to hone both, magic as well as strength of arms.
Alendrethala changes expression, as she is interested now by this human which seems at ease with both steel and magic.
"My apologize,i didn't saw you know magic as well, at least judging by the book you just happened to take.Spellbook are my passion, but don't worry, i know i shouldn't poke my nose in other spellcaster's books.But it is really amazing, never thought human could could master the two arts like our own bladesinger, and..."
Then she notices the northman gaze and stops suddenly
"I'm sorry,i was disturbing you this time , i will stop now"
Several emotions flash through Ruhks head as the elf addresses him, but he manages to remain outwardly calm, fighting his peoples hereditary distrust of elves.
Eventually he manages to adopt a civil facial expression.
"It's...no problem. I don't know what a Bladesinger is, but that is what I do, blending steel and magic...but I don't sing."
Good he stopped with that axe. He'll break it next time he hits someone with it.
Lockjaw begins rubbing his back against the nearest rock or log. After finding this doesn't quite hit the spot, he takes out an axe and grab it by the blade. He begins scratching his back with a blade so dull you're not sure it could cut anything.
"What's butternut paste and how do you eat it with sharp objects?"
Kathai hesistates for a moment, surprised to have someone still paying attention to her...
Sorry, did I not finish the story? I do that sometimes. There was a slight chip in the jar. When dad surprised me I cut myself.
Anyway, butternut paste is the mashed fruit of the Juglan tree, which only grows in the oasis' of the Calim. Kind of like a fig. It's pretty bitter, but if you add a dollop of cream and a bit of sugar, you get this buttery flavored treat that's great on bisquits. Or to just jam your finger in... provided the jar isn't chipped or broken. Dad used to say there was no better way to make friends than to offer them some good old butternut paste. Still... it might not have been his best idea to offer it to an orc bandit chief in exchange for our freedom. It really did not go over so well. That was my last caravan trip. I hope it goes better this time...
Velma's face brightens as she watches Nekat. I do love cats! So beautiful, even the most tame still has a bit of a feral edge. Have you ever seen a Tressym? Winged cats they are, no bigger than your friend there but with wings that can carry them high in the air! Lovely little beasts, but so rare. She stops suddenly, obviously unused to being the centre of attention.
Velnik snorts at Kathai's story. If'n we run inta any orc chiefs out here, rest assured I'll offer ye up to em, if need be. He holds it for a moment, but then laughs and says Ah, yer a good lass, and Gods know it can be difficult findin' good help! As he says this, he nods towards Lockjaw, busy scratching his back with his axe.
Velma's face brightens as she watches Nekat. I do love cats! So beautiful, even the most tame still has a bit of a feral edge. Have you ever seen a Tressym? Winged cats they are, no bigger than your friend there but with wings that can carry them high in the air! Lovely little beasts, but so rare.
"Not really, never heard of such animals, or magical animals more appropriate.I'll look around for one, or at least some document on them"
Finishing the dialogue with Rhuk
"Bladesingers are elves master at both swordplay and magic.I'ld have loved so much to became one myself but in Athkatla there were none, and anyway i don't have the physical requirements to apply.I mean i'm so slim and with no muscles, sure i know how to use a sword, you see i even got one i.....Praise be Corellon i'm doing it again. Better i go back to my scrolls"
Ruhk stares at Alendrethala for an uncomfortably long time, finally he nods and grunts.
"You do that."
For a moment he tries to come up with something else to say, but finding that his limits of polite conversations are fast running out, he instead returns to the book, slowly letting the arcane symbols burn themselves into his mind.
She reminds me of Einar the Skald, he also had many words.
So many that they did not fit inside him and came spilling out all the time.
She waits a few moments as one by one everyone decides to ignore her, then leans a little closer to Vestilet and whispers...** spoiler omitted **
Vestilet moves to stand and looks at Natasha before saying "Natasha we need to speak."
Natasha continues to sharpen her scimitar, not bothering to look up at Vestilet. And what would you like to talk about, Sir Paladin? I'm not going to convert, if that's your aim.
She looks up with a wry smile. She has broad features, not unlovely, likely a result of some Rashemi blood. Her dark hair is pulled back tightly from her face. She wears studded leather armor, of exceptional quality, and well cared for despite it's obvious frequent use. Her scimitar seems to have a bluish glint around the blade - perhaps magic? Her overall demeanour is one of disinterest, but she seems ready for action at a moment's notice.
Natasha continues to sharpen her scimitar, not bothering to look up at Vestilet. And what would you like to talk about, Sir Paladin? I'm not going to convert, if that's your aim.
She looks up with a wry smile. She has broad features, not unlovely, likely a result of some Rashemi blood. Her dark hair is pulled back tightly from her face. She wears studded leather armor, of exceptional quality, and well cared for despite it's obvious frequent use. Her scimitar seems to have a bluish glint around the blade - perhaps magic? Her overall demeanour is one of disinterest, but she seems ready for action at a moment's notice.
Vestilet shakes his head "No it is not about converting you. It deals with your prisoner."
About her? Natasha gives a short laugh. And what about her? What could a noble paladin of the guardian want with a low down thief and killer? Her eyes narrow and she regards Vestilet cautiously.
About her? Natasha gives a short laugh. And what about her? What could a noble paladin of the guardian want with a low down thief and killer? Her eyes narrow and she regards Vestilet cautiously.
Vestilet smiles slightly after hearing Natasha speak "As you have said I am a noble paladin of Helm, He of the Unsleeping Eyes, the Watcher, the Vigilant, the Vigilant One, the Great Guard. We watch, we listen and we follow our orders. There are a few saying we followers of Helm say such as 'He also serves who stands and waits and watches carefully.', 'Careful planning always defeats rushed actions in the end,'" He pauses after each line proud of what they stand for before going on "Young follows of Helm are told to follow these rules 'Novices of Helm are charged to be vigilant and to he fair and diligent in the conduct of their orders. They must protect the weak, the unpopular, the injured, and the young and not sacrifice them for others.' He stops after that line to stare at Natasha before going on once more ""No matter who a person is or what the person has done I am charged to make sure they are treated fairly. You have been mistreating your prisoner most of the trip. I have not said anything because I thought maybe I was just imagining it or she was trying to trick everyone. However someone expressed concern about her treatment. So I would like for you to stop your mistreatment of the prisoner at once."
Natasha regards Vestilet for a long moment before responding. Well done, boy, you can quote from Helms canon. Now let me tell you, Ive not mistreated that little witch, at least, no more so than any other little criminal of her type demands. She isn't eating because Ive gagged her pretty little mouth - she bit me, whilst I was binding her Natasha shows a bandaged hand. She'll be fed once she's properly contrite. And yes, she's tasted my whip, Natasha motions to the braided whip at her belt, but don't most prisoners need correction from time to time? If your family was murdered, wouldn't you want to know the one responsible was suffering for it? I know I would! Natasha looks back down to her scimitar and resumes sharpening it. Now begone, and leave me to my duties. I have strict instructions that none are to talk to the prisoner, and I'll not grant you an audience with the little snipe.
Natasha regards Vestilet for a long moment before responding. Well done, boy, you can quote from Helms canon. Now let me tell you, Ive not mistreated that little witch, at least, no more so than any other little criminal of her type demands. She isn't eating because Ive gagged her pretty little mouth - she bit me, whilst I was binding her Natasha shows a bandaged hand. She'll be fed once she's properly contrite. And yes, she's tasted my whip, Natasha motions to the braided whip at her belt, but don't most prisoners need correction from time to time? If your family was murdered, wouldn't you want to know the one responsible was suffering for it? I know I would! Natasha looks back down to her scimitar and resumes sharpening it. Now begone, and leave me to my duties. I have strict instructions that none are to talk to the prisoner, and I'll not grant you an audience with the little snipe.
Vestilet stares at Natasha than begins to laugh at what was said to him. "I never had a family other than the church of Helm. We are bound to our duty. You are currently hindering mine. As for your instructions they have nothing to do you mistreating the prisoner. As for an audience I never once asked to speak with her."
Natasha smiles sweetly at you Very well, noble paladin! I shall treat her as an exotic foreign princess, come to survey this barren, barbaric land. If you have any further concerns, direct them to my associate, over there. She motions to Lockjaw Stonefist I'm sure you'll find him far more accomodating that I am.
With that, she stands up and stalks off to the wagon to check on the prisoner.
Natasha smiles sweetly at you Very well, noble paladin! I shall treat her as an exotic foreign princess, come to survey this barren, barbaric land. If you have any further concerns, direct them to my associate, over there. She motions to Lockjaw Stonefist I'm sure you'll find him far more accomodating that I am.
With that, she stands up and stalks off to the wagon to check on the prisoner.
Vestilet watches as Natasha walks off his eyes hard, before turning to the dwarf she motioned to "Which clan are you from?"
"Eh? My name be Lockjaw Stoneshield and that's all the clan I need. Who're you to be sticking your pointy ears into my business?"
Damned elves. Probably tried seducing that she-devil and it's got him itchin' for a fight.
"Eh? My name be Lockjaw Stoneshield and that's all the clan I need. Who're you to be sticking your pointy ears into my business?"
Damned elves. Probably tried seducing that she-devil and it's got him itchin' for a fight.
Vestilet looks at Lockjaw for a moment before going on "Natasha called you her associate and to direct any further concerns to you. I thought I would ask who it is I will be speaking to. As for my 'pointy ears' seem to be a difference of opinion on that. Ask any elf and they are not pointy enough for everyone else well seems they are."
Ruhk is roused from his studies as the dwarf once again speaks.
Eh? The legendary ill will between the elves and the dwarves?
Ruhk turns to Evenor.
"What do you think? Trouble brewing?"
Some of the caravan people seem uncomfortable, though no-one has left the fire. Velnik is still pulling at his pipe, though Velma, the ranger, has gone quiet, her eyes darting from person to person, sizing up the situation.
I hope not, we will get our fair share of trouble from the bandits around here and those two are among the few that seem capable of defending themselves. If they kill themselves that will probably bring danger for everyone... he looks back at Ruhk I'm sorry but i just realized I didn't introduce myself, I am Evenor, bandit hunter by both trade and vocation he offers his hand to the man while smiling.
"Bah, you lost me boy. Anyway, all I know is I'm being paid to guard Natasha and take that woman in the cage with. And that I haven't been paid yet."
Too many words, that's the problem.
"Mhm...if it comes to blows, watch the shadows, a caravan in these parts might already have attrcted attention, and what better distraction than a fight in camp?"
Ruhk goes back to studying for a moment then stops.
"Ruhk...just Ruhk...that's me"
Evenor looks at Ruhk wide-eyed Are you suggesting that maybe they're working with the bandits? he takes his bow from his shoulder and says loudly I'm going to make a round, anybody wants to come?
"Bah, you lost me boy. Anyway, all I know is I'm being paid to guard Natasha and take that woman in the cage with. And that I haven't been paid yet."
Too many words, that's the problem.
"How much is she paying you?" Vestilet asks.
"No? I mean no...that wasn't it, I meant if they begin to fight and we pay attention to that, any bandits that might be scouting us from the shadows might decide to strike."
Evenor looks at Ruhk wide-eyed Are you suggesting that maybe they're working with the bandits? he takes his bow from his shoulder and says loudly I'm going to make a round, anybody wants to come?
Less exuberantly than she seemed a moment ago...
I'm game. Time to earn my pay around here...
My job is done here for now anyway...
It will be good to have some keen eyes alongside says Evenor, but then continues in a patronizing tone And you can run back if we get in trouble, eh?
"Ain't you been listening? She ain't paid me yet. What's your interest in the girl anyway?"
Lockjaw begins absentmindedly scratching himself during the conversation, a sight most of you probably wish you hadn't seen.