Bokken wrings his hands and worries about the bears, wolves, thylacines, and even trolls that lurk among the forests and hills south of the plains where he makes his isolated home. Of course, given how you've striven to settle and tame those lands, the threat from such dangers is arguably diminished.
Furthermore, taking a moment to consult the map of the Greenbelt that was confiscated from the Whitehollows after they explored the region, you see that they marked a purported "Fangberry Thicket" just 16 miles or so northwest of Charis. They also annotated that it was infested with "chew spiders," which kept them from investigating further.
"Chew Spiders. Well, that does sound unpleasant" He looks over the map, then says to Bokken "Thank you, Bokken."
Christian rubs his chin in thought.
Fangberries...hmmm
He looks over Bydar's shoulder as the map is opened up.
Close enough that we can make something of it...
The mercenary smiles to himself and looks to the others.
I have a friend that brews all sorts of beverages and we know a few farmers as well. Maybe we could cultivate the land that the berries grow on to produce wines and a steady supply of berries for Master Bokken?
He looks up and at Bokken.
How many berries would you need on a regular basis to keep you well supplied? The thing is, we know of a patch not too far from the city Charis. We could clear it out and see if we can grow them as a crop. You would get berries as you need and we get a business that would bring about an exportable product.
He again turns to the others.
I like the idea...what do you think? We most certainly would need to deal with the chew spiders...
Bokken previously made do with a basket of berries every fortnight, since with fangberry juice, "a little goes a long way." He largely produced potions at his own pace, rather than trying to keep up with demand for his product. You aren't quite sure whether this was because of the difficulty in procuring fangberries, because of his social anxiety, or just because of a laid-back attitude.
He also explains that fangberries are extremely difficult to cultivate because of their very particular soil and drainage requirements. If they cannot be domesticated, then it would be important to harvest the natural thicket sustainably.
"Chew Spiders."
Syretia makes a disgusted face at this, and a tiny curl of flame runs up one of her arms before dissipating.
Brandt has encountered chew spiders before, much to his chagrin.
They're aggressive little buggers, about the size of a man's thumb. They earn their name from how they utilize their particularly large, serrated fangs against prey or even larger creatures that intrude upon their territory. While most spiders tend to be solitary, chew spiders are frustratingly peculiar because they congregate in large colonies that number in the hundreds.
Christian rubs his chin in thought.
Fangberries...hmmm
He looks over Bydar's shoulder as the map is opened up.
Close enough that we can make something of it...The mercenary smiles to himself and looks to the others.
I have a friend that brews all sorts of beverages and we know a few farmers as well. Maybe we could cultivate the land that the berries grow on to produce wines and a steady supply of berries for Master Bokken?
He looks up and at Bokken.
How many berries would you need on a regular basis to keep you well supplied? The thing is, we know of a patch not too far from the city Charis. We could clear it out and see if we can grow them as a crop. You would get berries as you need and we get a business that would bring about an exportable product.He again turns to the others.
I like the idea...what do you think? We most certainly would need to deal with the chew spiders...
"I think, if Master Bokken is amendable, that could be a very good plan for all involved." A nod
We will have to put our heads together to come up with a solution to this delicate problem.
Seeing the fire roll up Syretia's arm...
I would think fire would be a useful tool against them but if they infested the patch...we will have to persuade them to come out less we burn the whole thing down.
Christian says with a disarming smile.
Addressing Bokken one more time.
We are on our way to Restov for a visit but we will be coming back this way soon. We will send word to you when we take care of the spider problem. If there is anything you need from Restov we would be happy to pick it up for you.
Brandt bows to Bokken and swings back up on the saddle of his mount, lost in thought, after a time, he speaks up, If we're heading to Restov, I have a few ideas to deal with the Chew Spiders. Nasty little things. Unless someone has magic to repel vermin? There are alchemical and natural compounds which can repel vermin, but I don't know if it will work on a swarm of the things.
When Christian points out the potential collateral damage of a fireball, Syretia initially looks affronted. "That...is a fair point," she concedes.
"Anything from the city?" Bokken muses. "I was thinking about buying a new set of pants from Oleg's. Oh! And maybe a new pair of shoes."
The potion maker looks down at his clothes as he speaks. His pants are threadbare, frayed and split at the cuffs, and one of his knees is exposed. As for his shoes...when he walks, they flap like a set of lips, for the soles are almost completely cleft from the rest.
While Bokken is quite amenable to selling potions to Charis, he nervously asks whether such an arrangement would involve relocating him. You aren't able to glean from his tone and expression whether he finds the idea exciting or displeasing.
"Those chew spiders sound like something that would swarm up on their prey. Normally I would say to get some alchemist's fire, but this would harm the berries as well. We will need to look at what available alternative there is in Restov."
"New shoes and pants, is that all? My friend, we can bring you a case of pants and shoes. As for relocating, that will be a question for the future, but know this, it is our goal to make this region safe and protected to allow merchant like yourself the leisure of traveling the roads without any fear."
Christian looks to the others with worry etched on his face when the safety of the region comes up.
Those f*#~ing brothers are still out there, I doubt they would do anything to him but still...would it be better for him to be in the city or out here. Home we can offer protection out here at this time...he is on his own. Not good odds.
The mercenary leader return his gaze to the potion maker.
Master Bokken. You are free to live where you like. If you wish to remain here that is fine with us and it is of course your choice. If you wish to move to Charis we will be fine with that as well. There are benefits to each.
He looks around the area
Here it is quiet and you are rarely disturbed while working. We can have supplies brought in regular intervals if you like.
He turns toward the southwest and Charis.
There it is busy and can get loud in certain parts of the city. You would only need to step outside your door to get supplies. The berries would be closer and fresher. If you are low on something you would be able to get it without having to wait for our supplies to arrive.
He laughs a bit
Granted I am bias towards one place over the others but we will honor your choice regardless.
He looks back at their horses.
I tell you what, think on it. We will head to Restov and take care of our business. On our way home we will stop by with some supplies for you. If you are ready to make a decision, we will listen and respect your wishes. Does that sound good to you?
Bydar nods in agreement with Christian, "Bokken, it IS your choice, but there's something to be said for having new supplies just a short walk away and we'd do our best to make you feel welcome. Whatever you decide, a pleasure to meet you. And we'll try to find those berries."
Bokken appears quite nervous to be put on the spot quite suddenly, so he gratefully asks for time to consider the decision.
"By the time you return from the city, I...I should have a decision ready."
Before sending you on your way, back on the road towards Restov, Bokken asks if you need any balms or poultices for the trip.
Christian nods approvingly.
We could use anything you are willing to spare. If you have something for the horses, that would be helpful. They have been working very hard as of late. They deserve some relief.
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Bokken shuffles into his hut. You can hear many clattering pieces of wood and earthenware as he gathers up some items. He returns and offers ointments for the horses' pasterns and other joints, as well as medicine that's good for clearing out parasites.
"Not many people come through with horses these days, so these have just been sitting around. Just be sure to only use them on the horses! I'm amazed how many times I have to tell people that."
Thank you very much. We will be back as soon as possible.
"And we're off!"
Bydar waves good bye, then rides with his companions, he looks about, "The River Kingdoms are a rainbow of beauty's display and variety, are they not? We've seen rolling hills, emerald woods, rivers racing. I am no naturalist; but I do find it all very inspiring."
You turn your course back northward, to return to the main road.
The South Rostland Road connects Restov in the east with New Stetven, the capital of Brevoy, to the northwest.
This road is a vital economic link for Rostland, which comprises southern Rostland.
Oleg's Trading Post sits at roughly the midway point along the road. However, it exists in a nebulous state where, though authorities in Issia and Rostland might alternately claim ownership of this patch of land, it is officially counted as part of the River Kingdoms.
Thankfully, even without a trail, the trek back to the road is an easy one. You pass across wind-tussled fields of grass and wildflowers, occasionally broken up by a stout hill, copse of trees, or bit of rock. Squirrels and starlings abound, and at one point you spot the fluffy red tail of a fox darting away through the grass and into the woods. However, nothing larger than a grazing deer is espied before you reach the well-trammeled dirt of the road.
The sky grows prematurely dark, as thick, woolen clouds threaten rain. While you had planned to reach Fort Serenko before nightfall, now the question becomes whether you can arrive before the showers begin.
Syretia gives the clouds a sour look as the sky rapidly darkens. "I don't like that at all. Do we have any options for shelter if we can't make it to the fort in time?"
"That.." He looks up at the same darkening sky, "Is perhaps less inspiring. Syretia is right, we may need to look for Shelter."
I think if we press on, maybe we can reach the Fort? Brandt guesses at the distances in his head. Otherwise there isn't much in this area to provide us with shelter as I recall....
I agree with Brand.
Christian looks down the road.
If we ride hard we may be able to make the fort before the storm comes.
Brandt recognizes that it what approaches will be a rain shower. It will not be terribly dangerous, but being caught out in the open will be unpleasant.
In the distance, you can see curls of smoke rising from the direction of Fort Serenko.
The smoke curls catch attention, "Chimney, or.. something less controlled?"
As you close the distance to the fort, Brandt comes to recognize the smoke as indicative of someone clumsily trying to get a cook or campfire going. In particular, he readily recognizes that they are making the rookie mistake of trying to use damp, fresh wood to start the fire rather than dead, dried wood.
Brandt stands in his stirrups, gazing ahead, Ot is a very inexperienced cool fire. Trying to burn green wood. They are likely out of their depth and perhaps would welcome some help, either way we need to remove ourselves from this damn rain. he shakes his head like Fenrir, spraying droplets of water from his gray-green hood. Immediately following suit, Fenrir shakes himself, spraying water in many directions but remaining just as wet as he was already.
Come on, we should offer them some aid in exchange for being dry…
"Out of their depth when it comes to camping. I feel a kindred soul" Bydar jests, and nods at his friend's suggestion, ready to follow.
Christian listens and nods as the others talks about inexperience people and surviving the wilds. His mind running back to a day of dampness and the cold dark that is the wilderness.
I never told Jasrella but I almost died that night...for real that is.
They are having a better go at it then my first time.
Christian laughs as he stares up the road.
After a moment down memory lane, he shakes his head slightly.
been a long time since I thought of that day.
Be prepared, The fort could be home to those tax collectors as well.
To avoid a cold and wet night in the saddle, I think we'll make peace with whomever we find there, at least until morning. he glances at his companions and smiles, Besides, Fenrir will keep them in line for us!
"They'd be damned fools to cross a damp fire mage," Syretia mutters, already annoyed with what the increasing humidity is doing to her hair.
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It's an odd life you're in, Bydar Lebeda. where in a game of 'good guard' 'bad guard', the immense wolf plays 'good guard' ...at least compared to a damp fire mage. He is wise enough, however, to keep his thoughts unspoken.
You hear distant thunder rumbling far to the south and east, towards the mountains. However, Brandt is certain that the actual storm will remain far from here, where you will only have to contend with the rain clouds on the periphery of the storm.
Of course, this is little comfort as the rain abruptly begins falling from the darkening sky, tapping upon your heads and backs.
Between the hastening night and the thick clouds overhead, the last hours of day offer scant light. However, there is enough illumination for you to make out the burned and broken walls of Fort Serenko, only a shadow of its former security following the rampage of Mercifax some time ago.
The falling rain squelches the attempted cookfire of whoever is currently inhabiting the fort, which is the only shelter around for many miles.
Looking further up the road towards Restov, Christian smiles to himself as they approach the old fort.
Tis a good location to stay for the night. Let us get in out of the weather and dry off.
A good location indeed. Nothing fancy needed but a staple and simple structure to hold a dozen soldiers or so. They could patrol from Oleg's to Restov. Keep the roads serviceable and cleared. May have to do the same from Oleg's to Charis
With his thoughts concluded, the mercenary leader dismounts and walks his horse towards the structure without care. His eyes tell a different story as they roam around looking for trouble.
Not wanting the Lord of Charis to be this expose to possible attack, Orlog spur his boar to reach all the way to the tower. He stop just shy of getting inside and get down the mount. If no one challenge him, he grabs a stone from the ground, cast light on it and throw it inside. "Identify yourself." He calls out with a firm voice.
Syretia stays mounted, watching what remains of the battlements for movement.
Bydar watches Orlog shoot forward and make his demand. His own eyes search for signs of movement that isn't theirs.
The fort's drillyard is littered with leaves, branches, and other detritus blown about by the wind. The Brevic guards have clearly abandoned the fort in the wake of its destruction by dragon. The barracks, storage barn, and other support buildings within the fort are in ruins, much like most of the fort's walls and watchtowers.
The most prominent feature in the yard is the stone-lined fire pit that contains the sputtering embers of the ill-fated cookfire, quickly being squelched by the falling rain. A pot of water, drawing close to overflowing from the rain, hangs above the fire pit. Some assorted vegetables of dubious size and quality have been left on the stones nearby.
Whoever has taken to squatting in the fort, they have fled in advance of your approach.
At first, you suspect they may be halflings, gnomes, or even some manner of fey. However, you soon realize that they are simply human children taking shelter from both the elements and you, the unexpected armed strangers. They are not terribly stealthy, clearly whispering amongst themselves.
A surprised look crosses Bydar's face, "Children, behind the arrow slits" then he calls out, "Children, please come forward so we can talk to you. We mean you no harm. Are any of you injured? Hungry? Perhaps we can help."
Christian's voice rings out soft and low but filled with worry.
S&#@...Children.
Come on out kids. We do not mean any harm. We are simple travelers in need of shelter from the elements. Perhaps you can come out and we all can get some food and maybe even a decent nights sleep. Where are your parents?
The handsome man steps back a bit and lets Bydar take point with the kids.
His faith may have better result with the kids than my words...less threatening.
He glances towards the sky quickly..
no offense
As the noble looks towards the kids his eyes dart back and forth around the area again.
I do not like this...head on a swivel.
Christian's eyes return to the kids.
This could be a trap...I f+!@ing hate this. If someone is using kids as bait or even the kids being...something else. Oh f!$+ me! I will not be happy if the kids are part of the tax collectors.
Turning back to the others. A look of worry on his face.
We should secure the area. There are kids here and that just put a huge wrinkle in any plan we might have had for tonight. This needs to be dealt with delicately. A mother bear will do anything to protect her cubs. Everyone should tread lightly and keep your eyes open. I really have a bad feeling about this situation.
Lord Christian counts a total of four children peering out from the arrow slits in the tower. However, he can also hear the muffled whine of an infant, as though one of the older children is trying to stifle its cries.
"Go away! You won't fool us! We won't let you hurt Mister Oluff!" one of the girls calls out.
Despite this objection, it seems that Bydar's diplomatic approach has achieved some inroads. Lord Christian notices that two of the boys inside have set down the rocks they were preparing to hurl in defiance. Rather than being hostile, these children are simply frightened.
"I'm a healer, not a hurter," Bydar assures "or I prefer to be. I worship Shelyn, she's a goodly goddess, and if I start doing mean or evil things, well, she gives me no more spells because she doesn't approve of that kind of behavior." Honesty can be the best policy, he hopes, "is Mr Oluff in need of healing?"
Knowing what he looks like with his full plate and boar. Orlog decides to move slowly away from the children. "Kids? why it had to be kids." Once he think he is a reasonable distance away, he pets his boar and feed him some rations.
You can barely hear one of the other children squeak out, "The bad men hurt Mr. Oluff when we ran out of the city. They shot him with a arrow."
"How about I leave my weapons with my friends, and go in and see if I can heal mr. oluff? Then if you see I'm okay, you can be more confident about my friends too?" He looks ready to hand his glaive over
Syretia shifts uneasily at the idea of sending Bydar in alone and unarmed, but doesn't object outside of giving the cleric a questioning look.