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You are in the land of Mountain Buckle. Newly found land yields uncharted areas, resources, and peoples. After the territories winning their statehood from Kador, the Republic of Tritan has established itself and thrived into the world, but yet to the west, much of Mountain Buckle is savage and uncharted. It is your job from the Republic of Tritan, to search and record such findings. With promise of fortune, fame, and adventure, the republic has sent numerous varied and excited peoples to explore, chart, and tame the west of Mt. Buckle.
Good day prospector and employer. My name is Roland Morgan of Orchards Port. I have skills that would be most useful in venturing westward. I know the wilderness, way round a barrel, and my only direction is forward. Attached you will find a copy of my personal letter and resume.
Thank ye for yer time
Roland
Well, It's difficult for a man like me to talk about himself. My name is Jane Hyde Inks and there ain't much after that. Good with a six shooter I suppose, can take a hit too... I keep my hand on my lash and my steel on on my side, but I ain't hesitant to switch 'em. You ain't gonna find many like me that's for true. Nice dogooders, probably; backhanded thieves, for sure. But not like me. Keep it straight 'n don't bushwack and you've got my work.
Last thing I guess: I'm me and you're you, I keep it simple like that.
Mr. Jane Inks.
M'name's Notch'khar, but most human-folk have trouble sayin' that the way it's suppose to, so feel free to call me Notch. I'm a digger from up in Brownsville lookin' for a place away from civilization to call my own. Don't get me wrong now, the republic hasn't been bad to me in any way, I just like my privacy and see this here expedition as an excuse to find that for myself.
Diggin' up on Mt. Brown has chiseled me a strong body, and when tensions get high in the mine I've been in my fair share of tussles. I guess you could call me a fighter, if your lookin' for some excuse to why I'd be beneficial to this 'ere journey. I can hold a hammer with the best of 'em, and I've even taken out a pest or two using ma pickaxe as well. I'm quick, and that's saved my life on more than one occasion running from cave ins. I'm swift in both the caves and fields lad, and that's sayin' a lot comin' from a dwarf!
Dear prospective adventurers,
You all appear to be qualified candidates. I would like for you to gather at the base of Moonwell Pass, in ye town of Moonville, at the Moonville Fort Exchange. Further details will be provided upon arrival.
Thank ye,
Trail Master Mol Tommison
You are at Moonville. Today is a slow day. Minimal personnel are running the mills and lumber yard. Taverns are full and the Exchange sits along the main strip.
The inside feels much like an inn and tavern, however walls of supplies are full and around and business seems to be conducting. A table with four chairs sits in the middle, with four mugs and a man.
The soft grass makes very little noise with each stride I take in this town, aside from the occasional dead leaf crushed underfoot. The road of mostly dirt and gravel sounds like a small crunch when I walk over it, a lot like old snow frozen over. Each wood step up to the Exchange gives a different creak; yet, no matter where I walk the footsteps always sound the same to me. The old man sitting in front of the store seems to take notice of me, he slightly tips his hat... I see this in my peripherals and walk into the shop.
The door gives a hearty squeak that you'd expect from a logging town, the wood is probably of very high quality; the hinges probably not. I lift my head, surveying the business under the brim of my cover. Lifting my hat I lower the scale coif so that it rests on my shoulders, placing the leather cap back onto my crown I walk forward with intent. When I reach the center table I stand there for just a moment, still. With a shrug I slide my heavy shield from my back to my forearm and place the bulwark against the chair that I stand behind. I unbutton my hide duster before sitting down at the table. The sound of my armor gives a metallic *Shink* when I come to rest.
I rest my left arm on the table, and stare at the mug in front of me.
"H'lo there!"
"Fine day in'it?"
"That's a dem fine pair o' boot you got thar, dem fine!"
With a grin on my face I wander through the streets of Moonwell Pass. Not many folk are out today I think, but that is probably due to everyone being in the exchange for important business; a place of business that just so happens to be my destination as well!
I turn a corner and see the building that matched the description given out when word of this expedition first leaked itself to Brownsville. I quicken my step and bound towards the building, my full and heavy pack bouncing like an over-excited shadow behind me.
With a slamming sound I fling the door open and enter. A couple of patrons look at me with mild curiosity (or annoyance), but I just flash them a big smile from behind by full, carefully braided beard and look around for some sort of man-in-charge to get things rolling!
A man stands outside. The wind brushes his hair, swaying slightly against the brim of his hat. The vegetated dim straw flies away, at this time, the cowboy walks into the establishment and takes his supposed place among the gathered group. The man lowers his hat and drops his rifle alongside, the barrel parallel to him standing itself. He drops a letter in the center of the Oakleaf table and turns to the prospective looking man.
"I am Roland." He let's out with a grunt.
The man introduces himself as Mol Tommison. He seems to be quite surprised by the deammeanor of the sturdy stout man, and indifferent by the other two.
"Why thank you all for coming. I'm quite impressed with the skill set here. What I need however is the promise of companionship and the willingness to travel together. To see the new world. Meet the peoples and creatures of the west. Make us all proud. So what do you say!? Are you in?!"
Roland look to the man, at the group, and to the man again. He raises his brow and puts a leaf of tobacco in his lip.
"If it must be so."
He inhales the fresh scent and closes his eyes in thought. The prospect of traveling with people, companions as this Mol.. person says. No he must forgive himself for all those years ago. It is time to end this lone stranger act. It was those thugs from Team Rocket, who he'll swear will pay..
The condensation on my drink builds the same as people amass around the table I sit at. Each drop on the glass is different... And I couldn't be bothered to care. I still haven't touched the beverage.
"...So what do you say!? Are you in?!"
"If it must be so."
I retract my arm, slowly scraping the oakleaf table with the scale sleeve. Standing up the chair is slowly pushed back making a distinctive yet predictable scooting noise. At full stature my eyes dart just under the brim of my hat bouncing over the men that have gathered. I make sure to make eye contact with each of them, staring for a moment, testing their steel with my yellow iris. Focusing again on the mug I bend down and pull the weight of my shield over onto my shoulder. Looking at this Mr. Tommison I reach into the pocket of my duster and produce a letter which I flick into the center of the table on top of Roland's.
I let out something that sounds like a sigh and give a beckoning look to the Dwarf at the table.
"I don't know why your being so indifferent about all this." I say, gesturing towards Roland, "Opportunities like this don't come along every day you know. A'course I'm in Mr. Mollison... er, I mean Mr. Tommison."
I sit stoutly in my chair staring at the rest, still with a big grin on my face. I try to understand the silent actions of the gruff looking man in the hat, but it's boring dwelling on those with unsavory personalities so I started singing an old tune that I used to sing boisterously in the mine whilst digging.
Suppose he's right.. I let out a cough and more savory sigh.
"So Mol, since this is a government sponsored campaign. What resources will be supplied?"
"Yeah!" I say loud enough to attract the attention of half the establishment, "I need to know what I'll be given so i know what I need to get."
"Ahh yes... Well a few things. We have already sent out small caravans ahead and some outposts are up. But that will not be enough. Personnel, coin, trade, and resource will all be necessities. Here is a list of everything sponsored for your trip."
50 copper
50 silver
50 gold
1 platinum
1 caravan (carriage) or cart
3 light horses
1 tent
1 artisan tools mw
1 spy glass
Ink parchment and quills
"I also forgot to mention one thing, you shall be having another campaign in your midst. And please show courtsmenship when you meet her. The main event will kik off in two days! Report back here then!"
That Dwarf's smile... His oversized beard... That annoying tune. I grate my teeth beneath my lips and try not to grimace while he hums loudly.
"...What resources will be supplied?"
The man makes a good point, this business would be impossible with what we are wearing on our back. I look again at Mr. Tollison and inhale, about to voice my concern as well. Just as I open my lips:
"Yeah!"
The Dwarf belts aloud. I can't help but wince in annoyance as his abrupt burst washes over me. My fist clenches in my pocket and I bite down hard, shutting my jaw. I let out a sharp exhale from my nostrils, fighting the urge to growl at the short one. I close my eyes trying to fine my calm as I tilt my head back slightly.
"...Here is a list of everything sponsored for your trip."
Looking down I see that Mol has placed a piece of parchment on the table. I quickly place one hand on the wooden surface with a loud slam and begin to read the paper. Mulling over what is being provided I feel much of my frustration ease. I slowly slide my hand back to my waist and erect again, standing quite tall. With resonating footsteps I stride over to the door of the establishment. Opening the oak door; letting out another soundable creak, I lean against the beam of the doorway, waiting for the other two to follow suite.
Hmm..
[b] "Well.. I'll have my gear ready to throw in the caravan. I've all but just about purchased everything I will need. Maybe some good tobacco n chew, and some drinks to boot. My horse is reliable and strong."
A female companion will be nice. The stench of an old dwarf may have been too much too bear. Ive heard they're friendly enough. As for the other man.. Quiet and self reliant, perfect best man.
I join the man to the door.
"Wooo-ee! That's right decent o' you to provide all that ya know?" I say taking a look over the supply list handed over my Mol. We may be going into the unknown west, but at least we would be well stocked.
Mol mentions something about something that I don't really quite hear, having retreated into my thoughts of whether I would rather build my mine out of basaltic rock or plagio-granite. I realized that the two men I would be traveling with are no longer at the table, so I scootch myself upright in the chair and glance around until I see them standing by the door, tapping their feet and showing other signs of obvious annoyance.
I plop off the chair and scuttle over to the two I would be spending the next few months, if not years of my life with.
"Ready you two? We can't keep all this manlyness away from the west for much longer now can we?
[b]"Hmm... Well we have a few days. We may as well plan our courses of action. I'll saddle up and find a place where we can discuss these matters. I need a shot of scotch for the trip down. And another hearty meal before show time may not be such a bad idea.
The invisible zephyr prances through the trees and licks my face, gazing out surveying the town. Notch and Roland appear quite set on the business, the former seeming incredibly eager. "Ready you two?" the dwarf asks with bravado, his words are whisked away by the wind in my ears. It seems this man will be endurable, as long as there is wind to wash away what pours out of his mouth. "...I need a shot of scotch for the trip down..." I shift my eyes to Roland, he seems to be a practical man, I'm not so sure why the practice of drinking surprises me... His voice betrays tobacco and alcohol yet, I guess I'm just not quite sure what I was suspecting.
When the blowing wind subsides I breath in the first breath of the next two days. I nod to the men beside me and slowly saunter down the steps, my armor making it's particular *shink* *shink* *shink* with each stride.
Roland nods his head in assure meant.
[b]"I saw a decent standing establishment, the Rabbits Hole, nice enough furnishing and people. Let's go there.
The Rabbits Hole is conservative in style. A table is ready with water and waitress to take orders stands when ready.
I take my seat at the table at the Rabbit's Hole. Adjusting my weight to a comfortable position I take a look around. I let out a low whistle when I notice that the establishment takes it's name very literally, for all over were paintings of rabbits, wooden carvings of rabbits, and a candelabra in the corner that was topped with a copper molding of a rabbit's head, with two holes to insert candles where the ears should be.
"What a harey place! HA! Get it?" I say, slapping Jane hard on the back, "Harey? Rabbits are also called hares. Hehehe..." I sit laughing at my own wit as I announce to the waitress that I'd like something a little stronger than water.
"So lad," I say to Roland, "What'r we doin' here eh? How we goin' to get this adventure started?"
Walking into the Rabbit's Hole I immediately feel like an ass among ponies. The decoration of this place is asinine to the truest meaning. Every step feels out of place as we walk to the table. Roland and Notch taking their seats I stand behind my chair and let my shield drop from my shoulder to the floor. Pulling the chair out I hear an awfully annoying sound, no not the chair scooting... The dwarf whistles.
Wincing I take my seat and grasp the cup of water set in my place; I don't intend to drink it, I can't even feel the condensation through my hide glove, I suppose It's habit. Just as I settle into the seat: looming over the table in a slouch like usual, a force strikes my back!
"What a harey place! HA! Get it?"
My grip vices while my back straightens, the cup in my hand is nothing but a mess of glass and water now. I instinctively bare my teeth, my head turns like a creaky rusted hinge and I stare at Notch.
"Harey? Rabbits are also called hares. Hehehe..."
Notch seems to pay no attention to my silent fury and turns to the waitress ordering some form of alcohol... I think. The bloodhaze is making things less sensible right now.
When he speaks to Roland I take a moment to collect and realise that if any thing is going to get done, I can't lynch the dwarf. I open my clenched fist and begin listening to the two talk as i pick the chunks of glass out of my glove.
"... Well.. I thought like most taverns, the name of the establishment, isn't usually quite so literal..
I'd suggest you buy any other supplies you may need for yourself. I brought my own steed to accompany. Other than that. Takes turns leading the caravan, taking watch, and the sort. This won't be my first convoy, so I'll share some experience. My word of wisdom is to not get stuck in the mud, brace the wind, and face tomorrow with a strong head.
If you all will be ready tomorrow, I'm sure we can set off then.
Upon closer inspection, the rabbits decorating the tavern and bar are much more than the jolly ol dwarf describes. These rabbits are to be rabbid. Rabbid Rabbits of Moonwell Pass, a most vicious creature if encountered and provoked. This appears to make much more sense being in an adult establishment."
Perception:
Hmm..
"I knew this place peaked my eyes. These fuzzy creatures are in affect deadly and rabid."[
"Deadly and rabbid? A rabbid rabbit? HA! Have you lost your stones Roland? Gettin' scared of a wee fake rabbit before we even begin our quest. By the way, when do you suspect this quest will be beginning after all?"
"I promise you they're very much real and if the bite doesn't know you away, the venom and infection will. As I said, we will finish out tonight, and since we are all in order, we can set off tomorrow, if Janes has all affairs in order too."
"Well I'm 'ere ready if Jane is! The sooner we start this blazin' of trails the more content I'll be! Barmaid! More ail! We drink to forget tonight so there will be more room for memory o' tomorrow's adventure!!"
The rays creep into town. Finally, the day has come. Today is the new beginning the land. What you are about to embark is a journey which will span across uncharted lands.
Roland is on the western edge of town, awaiting your coming. The logged wooden town lays still, and the dews slowly pours amongst the leafs and blades. Mol Tomisson can be seen wandering over with another cloaked figure and your materials.
I yawn as I step out of the inn into the morning dew. Smacking my lips a few times I think back on how wonderful sleep had been last night. "Not even stationary boulder rest that sound."
Looking around the sleepy town I notice only a few hints of stirring here and there, suggesting that the bakers and shopkeepers were just getting up to prepare for the day's business. Squinting my eyes a bit I notice who I believe to be Mol and another person walking over. I wave my arm high above my head, stroking my less-than perfectly styled beard with my other hand.
Roland follows closely behind. With tankard and joe in hand, he nods to Notch.
"Well, if all and all is in order, lets grab J, and head to the brief by Mol and get this train wreck started shall we?"
Roland takes a sip.
Waking up is always the same, even when in a different bed. At least I don't have to deal with the trouble of dreaming... If that's what it's called. Shifting out of my bed the familiar joints pop and crack when shuffling over to my clothes and armor, getting old I guess. Nothing too fancy, like I say, it's always the same.
*Shink* *shink* *shink* *shink*
Outside of the inn I feel the familiar morning breeze and the familiar morning sun. Then... then I see something that isn't so 'familiar'. That loudmouth Dwarf bounding about like a damn fool. Letting out a sigh I step down into the grass and reluctantly pursue. I walk behind the nuisance just out of threat range of his attention. He then begins flailing his broad arm at our acquaintances, Roland and Tommison. I pick up my pace... No reason to keep them waiting on my accord.
"...and get this train wreck started shall we?"
I give a quick nod as I cross my arms.
"Aye, it seems we are all here.. Save for the gal. We have a few moments it seems to ourselves before we head off."
"Oi! I'm ready to go fur shur! Lets get this minecart rollin'!"
I start stroking my beard as I glance at each of my now-companions. Roland here looks like one of those noble types that me good mama Craftsenea Diggiholl used to tell me about it bedtime stories; maybe he will prove to be a hero just like the dwarvish heroes Durkon Thundershield and Honeydew.
Jane, I like Jane! Something about him is sppealin' to me. I feel like he and I are gonna be real close-like by the end o' this!
Waiting before we start traveling I quickly search through my sacks. They're pretty heavy but it's nothing I'm not used to. Though with my shield as well... G&* d@~n I hope we have an ox. Looking through my last satchel I get a feeling, like someone is staring me down. I look up from my bag and see the hairy faced Dwarf glancing between Roland and myself.
My face turns into a visible grimace and I abruptly tie off my pouch and sling it over my shoulder. Turning my back to the Stunty all I can think about is how this is going to be a long, long trip. That female can't get here fast enough.
The list prior is availible and ready for pickup:
50 copper
50 silver
50 gold
1 platinum
1 caravan (carriage) or cart
2 light horses
1 tent
1 artisan tools mw
1 spy glass
Ink parchment and quills
Updated with it:
4 Adventurer kits
4 Bedroll
4 winter blanket
2 barrels 9(water)
1 barrel (animal feed)
1 barrel empty
1 tarp
I am allowing input mor so in this campiagn as this campaign may switch hands back and forth I dream, as this will start out as a more episodic campaign.
I will then formally introduce her and begin this wagon train!
The site at the wagon and Mol becomes clear. A beautifully crafted wood piece, that even a Dwarf would be proud of. Wood perfectly aligned, carved, and polished.
The polish on this piece is magnificent. This may even be durable even in the closest flame. The tarp appears fastened and taunt, meant to endure the toughest storms. Its materials composed make the wagon light and easily maneuverable, with proper maintenance and handling, commandeered into a raft.
Mol is also wearing a nicer getup, and vest..
The real site here stands the brave, tamed, creature, the female companion. Her pure black charcoal hair glistens refracting the suns rays. The strands blow in unison to where we must go, west. Her patterned crafted robe sits beautifully on the well endowed Mountain.. I mean bre.. chest.
Her gear is also setup much like a warring mans'. Equipment aligned, ready to fight, properly fastened, and balanced in place. Her face conveys no fear, wisdom, beauty, and strength. She appears to utter, but all you hear..
"How."
She waves her hand to you.
Roland takes off his hat and gestures back, almost a shaken.
He mutters to his newfound companions,"Now that's a woman."
Roland slowly waves back.
Hands full and shoulders burdened I walk with intent with the others, tilting my head up I see our new home... A wagon and some asses. I quickly pick up my pace and start toward the caravan. Roland slows in front of me and takes off his hat, I sidle quickly around him unobstructed.
"Now that's a woman."
I hear him mumble as I pass by. Yup, I see her. Closing in I see her waving gesture but without acknowledgement I keep on my path and collect all of my packs to my right hand. With a haul I drop my encumbering gear into the carriage.
Craft:
With my equipment and shield the wood creaks. Sounds good enough for me. I climb with a quick jump into the wagon bed and tilt my hat down covering my eyes. With a loud *thud* I sit down, taking a resting position.
I walk briskly along with my companions clapping my hands against my waist as I go. I notice the wagon that Mol has prepared for us, but my eyes are quickly torn away from the oversized wheelbarrow and drawn to the black haired beauty that stood beside it.
"Now that's a woman"
I glance up at Roland with a mischievous eye and say in a voice that is anything but discreet. "Aye lad, it pleases me that I'm to be travelin' with a man who knows a lovely woman when he sees one, though not nearly as pleased as I am to be travelin' with the woman herself. Why, if she were only a bit shorter, wider, and hairier I'd like to..."
Jane stepped in front of Roland and I, who had slowed our pace, interrupting our manly conversation and began loading his equipment in to the wagon. I blindly throw my own gear into the back (resulting in a thud and a cry of anguish from Jane) and bend low in front of the woman, taking her hand and kissing it. "Hello thar. My name is Notch'khaar Diggiholl of the dwarven clan Diggiholl, but you can call me Notch. Or Notchy. Or Beardy McHunkaHunka. Or whatever you damn well want."
Mol Speaks, "Well thank you all for gathering here. You have answered the call and may godspeed be with you all. If you have any questions or inquiries, please ask now. Im sure you will meet new people, see sights, and maybe claim some land for yourself! This is a new frontier, and the peolpe of Trident are counting on you to expand and rise! Of course these folks may be indigenous, envirnoment harsh, or others wagoneers try and kill you but thats besides the point! I shall bid you a quick prayer.
'Hey man, guys, gals, or whatevers goin on up there, if things could go well for these guys that'd be great. Maybe some new digs for me to? Anways, thats pretty much it.'
Mol shrugs and looks to walk away.
Mol hands the Reciept and Contracts to Roland whom takes them in hand.
The woman darts a mean look at the quick strodding man (Jane).
"Name's Pocahantes."
She looks upon the short but stout man.
"Please.. Never say Beadry McHunkaHunka again. Or may the spirits haunt you for eternity.
...
Her natural demeanor returns.
"And its nice to meet you." She says abrubtly and almost awkwardly, before returning a smile to the short man.
"You?" She raises her arm outward pointing to Roland.
Roland clutches his brim and hat tightly. "Roland Ma'am. Roland Morgan, Lawman of Silver Orchard." He takes a breath and swallows, before looking to the dwarf.