"Tonight it is gorgeous."
He said with a large grin and a decent wink. Sidling closer to Sprig he leaned in and whispered lowly to the little dragon man.
"Any sort of news or things I should check with the working locals about that you can think of tonight?"
"Ask about who's passin' through, possible rivals. We're 'bandits' an' we need to know who we're dealin' with. The more we know 'fore we run into them, the better. " 'Grimm Snapjaw' shakes his head a little, thinking about other possibilities.
"It's bit of a stretch, but anythin' like that silver disk we found too. There might be more'n one. Don't push 'er too hard, she might get suspicious." Sprig stops for moment, before getting flustered.
"I- I mean the questionin'!" If lizards could blush, Sprig would probably be a bright red.
Once by himself, Sprig waves over a server. "Ah think my men 'r gettin' hungry out there. Could you be dear'n bring 'em some of mutton n ale? Take a whole side, there's a lot o' 'em."
A server walks out of the saloon towards Ralrae and Brindle holding a large try. A rack of some sort of ribs sits on a platter, along with a large jug and some cups.
Upon seeing the odd assortment of caravan guards the young man raises his eyebrows and says, ”You...you’re one of them hyena-folk. One of ‘em passed through here on the way to Exchange a day or two back. Some bandits with ‘em too. Reckon y’all might be kin or some such. Can’t imagine there’s more than a few of y’all lopin’ around and all that.”
Brindle’s snout picks up the oncoming food early, and her attention only intensifies at the mention of another gnoll. Trying to concentrate in the face of extreme deliciousness, Brindle searches her mind for any memory of a gnoll bandit, or gnolls outside her tribal group.
”Washit male or female? The males are smaller and rangier...” she provides by way of clarification.
Ralrae grabs a cup and pours himself a drink, then grabs a rib from the rack and tucks in while Brindle questions the server. Once he's had a few bites, he pauses as if in sudden realization: "Exchange, eh? Any idea what these meybe-bandits would be up to there?" His question to the server is quiet, but not threatening in any way; he's just curious about what the bandits may have said.
Saraon isn’t able to learn much, the bandits don’t seem interested in divulging much to a strangely dressed tree hugger.
Brindle knows that some gnoll tribes, especially the more savage and brutal ones, naturally fall in with bandits.
”Whaddya mean male or female? Thought all them hyena-folks was the same. Dunno much about them bandits headed for Exchange. If I’m rememberin’ right, it was a gnoll and one of them greenskinned folks, don’t know if the greenskin was a purebreed or one o’ them half-men. Few other lackies with ‘em. They kept to ‘emselves, not here to party.”
He sets down the tray and says, ”Yer boss told me to bring this out to ya. I’ll just set it here an’ be goin, less y’all need anything else?”
Saraon sighs at the reticence of the townsfolk, but is unsurprised. He returns to the caravan to make sure nothing happens to it while the others hopefully have more luck.
Ralrae shakes his head at the server. "Looks like good ol' Sprig is taking care of us. I think we're set out here, thanks." Turning to Brindle, he indicates the ribs. "They're quite good, and cooked rare - I think you'll like them! Even if it might not be your normal preference, eh?"
The night went on and the impromptu party died down. Sprig tried his best to prepare himself for the coming meeting with the saloon's proprietress. He really wanted to run for it, but knew that he had to confront the danger now. They'd just take this last meeting and he'd be home free.
Alright, I've made it this far... I gotta remember, I'm Grimm Snapjaw, newly arrived bandit leader and more than a little capable. The small lizard shivered involuntarily. Just act confident and everything will fall into place. They won't know nothin' about who you really are.
Sprig saw his opportunity to go meet with the saloon's matron and quietly slipped into her office. He took a quick survey of the room, trying not to focus on escape routes. "Ah, its good t' finally introduce myself properlike. Ah'm Grimm Snapjaw of th' Highland Raiders. As yew may be able t' tell, we ain't from 'round here. An' that's where th' deal I've been talkin' about comes in."
With a practiced hand, the kobold slides a small box from his pack. Chocolate. A relative rarity in the broken world.
"Yer a smart woman, Ah like that. Yew pick up on all kinds of news, 'specially the kind with coin attached. You jus' point me and mah boys in the right direction an' no fuss nor muss, you'll get yerself a nice cut. And say yew need unscrupulous activities done at affordable prices, y'all just give me a call. Ah'm always on the lookout fer another job."
Sprig opens the box, turning it toward the matron but he leaves his claws upon the lid. There's a glint in his eye as he speaks again. "What do you say? Do we have a deal?"
The madam chuckles at Sprig’s pitch, ”Flattered as I am, I do what I can to stay out of my client’s businesses. If you really want though, I can get your name out now and again if someone comes asking for some help. Plenty of bandits come through here looking for work, but not all of them are as polite as you. You’ve got yourself at least something of a deal.”
While Sprig is meeting with the saloon’s matron, Bas heads up to meet with Shelia. ”So, what’ll it be?”
Sprig's signature smile slowly spreads across his face, it's still not as friendly as he thinks it is. "That's all Ah needed to hear. My boys and Ah are headin' out to Exchange soon, send anythin' you find thataway. We'll be in touch."
The kobold leaves the box of chocolates behind, and swaggers his way out of the saloon. Almost as soon as he's back amongst the safety of the others, Sprig's facade collapses and the little lizard sags into his seat. Turning to the others, he begins talking in a small, tired voice.
"Phew. We're in luck, the people who run this establishment ain't tied t' any bandit gang. This is prolly th' safest place in town, for now. The proprietress is also gonna send us any jobs that come 'er way, we should keep an eye out fer letters in Exchange. Ah didn't find out much o' annythin otherwise, how'd y'all do?"
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”I ate ribs!” Brindle replies, concentrating on the important information.
He blushed just a bit. Despite his years running on the wild side of the world he didnt have a lot of positive experience with women in general. With a pretty shy smile he licked his lips.
"Well Miss Sheila, Truth be told its my first time uh... since I got scarred. Most gals just decide they want no part of me. If you have any specialties I'll take two of those. How often do you entertain bandit groups through here? What fees do you charge an ugly cus like me m'am?"
He began as he removed some of his heavier gear and took a hit from the bottle. He offered it to her next. He pulled out one of his coin pouches taking care to slip the others into his boots out of sight.
Shelia shakes her head when Bas offers, ”No matter how nice you may be, I’ve learned not to take drinks from bandits. No offense big man. Well, bandits come through here pretty often. It’s a job like any other. You ain’t the worst I’ve seen, honest. If I really can’t stand to look at ‘em, I try to just look away.”
Bas can tell that Shelia is disinterested in the job, though she seems a bit more engaged in talking to Bas.
"Phew. We're in luck, the people who run this establishment ain't tied t' any bandit gang. This is prolly th' safest place in town, for now. The proprietress is also gonna send us any jobs that come 'er way, we should keep an eye out fer letters in Exchange. Ah didn't find out much o' annythin otherwise, how'd y'all do?"
"I learned nothing of note. Most of the folk here didn't care to answer a stranger's questions about the latest news. That's the problem with connecting yourself with the land so strongly sometimes, it makes your connection to the people less strong. I'm glad the rest of us don't have that issue as much, though."
Sprig give a short, barking laugh at Brindle's response."Did yew now? Ah'm glad th' night was so successful."
As Saraon speaks up though, the kobold sobers a bit. "Honestly, Ah'd make that trade. The land's th' cradle of its people. Without it bein' looked after, the whole basket spoils. Hm... Next time we're in town, remind me t' look fer a library or summit. Need t' look into some things."
Saraon chuckles.
"I don't know about that, Sprig. I think you enjoy the company of people, which is just as good."
"Ah suppose yer right." Sprig says with a yawn. "Y'all ready t' hit th' dusty trail? Ah might rest my eyes a bit, yew ok with drivin' Bill?"
The lizard lays down on the wagon floor, his hat pulled over his eyes.
The large scarred man paused in his undressing and took a deep breath and a sigh. He literally had bought the bottle downstairs in front of her... well sort of in front. He supposed he could have doctored it up on the trip up.
He sat on the bed and glanced at her his shirt half off.
"I can tell you are just here for the coin, can't fault that. What are some of the groups of bandits that come through here. We all come up with names for our groups and all. To be truthful The little dragon boss there has bad blood with a couple of groups out east so he's moving territory. Wants to get a little info about groups in the area. "
He rose reaching for his boot and pulled out one of the bags of coin he had hid in it.
"I'm willing to pay for that information since laying with me doesnt suit you. I'd take it as a kindess if after our little parlay you made some noise like you were entertaining a fellow though, Probably best if you do so they think its was just business. A damn shame though. You are pretty easy on my eyes."
Ralrae listens to the talk surrounding Sprigs questions, and before he turns in he makes sure to thank Sprig. "Like Brindle sorta said, thanks for the victuals. It was appreciated, and by the sounds of it may have been the most important bit of the day for us! Ralrae chuckles at that, then turns in himself.
Shiela furrows her eyebrows for a moment, slightly confused by Bas’ proposition. She smiles slightly and nods, ”I’m willin’ to help out. You’re a hell of a lot better than plenty other bandits who come through here. If it saves your hide, I’ll tell you what you need.”
Shiela goes on to detail several groups of bandits in the area around Payday. Mechanically, this’ll reduce the DC of any knowledge check related to local bandits by 5, and allow for making them untrained.
About half an hour passes, and Shiela finishes her explanation. ”Let’s see, Bone Boys, Horncrushers, Randiggan’s Raiders, and Daughters of Xokar. Those’re the worst of ‘em. Not entirely sure how to see you out. Most bandits through here just leave when they’re done, no words or anything. Feel free to sit in here for a bit if you want, I’m gonna get some rest.”
Making a show of leaving the bar he hopped into the wagon and nodded to the others.
"There a quite a few bandit groups in the area, worst ones being, The Bone Boys, Horncrusher's, Randiggan's Raiders, and well the Daughters of Xokar. We should definitely keep out eyes out."
He began leaning against the side of the wagon.
Saraon nods as he boards the wagon.
"Perhaps the land will give me more answers when we have left this place."
As they travel onward to Exchange, Sprig takes a moment to talk to: Brindle.
"Say Brindle, yer an outlander like me right, what pushed you out 'ere? With yer skills, Ah bet you were pretty important."
Brindle puffs up with pride.
”I am marked - my name is Brindle “Ghostfur” - my many hues faded to grey when I was young. In the uplandsh, thish is a shign of fate. The tribe s-sent me out to find why the land isz dying, and ush with it.” The gnoll holds her gunstock club out with more pride, stripped of its mechanical accoutrements and wood polished to a wicked gleam. ”This was gifted to me, made from a settlement gunne!”
A moment’s pause, and Brindle seems to deflate a little. She eyes Sprig for a moment and looks out over the plain from her redoubt, hanging from a side of the wagon.
”But I am nothing shpecial really. A hunter, of some prowessh. Of a tribe that dyez s-slowly out.”
The kobold chuckles to himself, "Yer a marked one, eh? We had somethin' like that amongst my peoples too, though Ah ain't so lucky."
Sprig listens as Brindle laments her place in the world. "Ah think yer doin' somethin' plenty special, Brindle. You'n me, we're th' 'uncivilized' peoples out in the world. One day, once we bring th' green back, it'll up to folks like us to make sure there's a place for gnolls n kobolds amongst civilization. Wouldn't that be somethin? T' walk amongst the tallfolk as equals?"
Brindle had never given the relative equality of various sentient beings in a larger socio-political context much thought, but what Sprig said had the feel of something she would like.
”I think it would S-sprig.” The gnoll affords the wily kobold a long moment of consideration. ”You are perhapsh not a general member of your kind I think. There ish a drive in you, a cawzh. How did you come to thish way of sheeing the world?”
" A green land? sounds nice I guess. All this dirt gets troublesome. "
He chimed in sounding worn, a touch depressed. He took a final pull from the bottle he had bought and with a scowl moved to the back of the wagon dumping the remains of the liqour into the ground.
The party sets out of Payday, leaving behind the chaos and vice. Shot seems visibly more at ease once it’s out of sight, and he explains that any bandits that worked with Svedka would want him dead. Bandits don’t take kindly to traitors.
It’s another day to Exchange, and the time passes uneventfully. It’s just coming towards evening as the town comes into view. Small homesteads dot the outskirts, and the party can see settlers bringing their animals in for the night.
The party passes by a collection of small houses. Several children play out front of one, tossing a ball back and forth.
The center of town is impressive. Several wagons, much like Sprig’s, are hitched up outside of a general store, and the town’s saloon is an impressive three stories tall. Even with it getting dark, there’s quite a bit of hustle and bustle around town.
As the party rolls in, a few guards on horseback sidle up to the party. One of them furrows his eyebrows and says, ”Say...little lizard fella with a trade wagon? I reckon you’re that merchant I’ve heard of some. Twig Scraggletooth? Any case, I gotta make sure y’all won’t cause any trouble.”
During Brindle's explanation, Ralrae pays close attention to the information and perspective that she shares. He gives her a nod of respect at the end of her explanation, a little more settled with her as a member of the group than he had previously been.
As they come into Exchange and are challenged by the local guards, Ralrae speaks up to correct the guard. "Sprig Snaggletooth and company, actually. And we won't cause any trouble." He gives a simple nod towards the guard - not disdainful, but not especially submissive, either.
Sprig rather sheepishly pulls out his spell book. It's old and dog-eared, clearly seen a lot of use. "All th' magic n alchemy Ah ever learned was stolen from th' Tallfolk. Bit's n bobs, stolen from th' unwary 'r foolish. It's rather convenient most of 'em are written in th' True Tongue, but it still took me years. In mah studies, Ah read th' other books we stole too, diaries, stories, history... There's so much mah people could learn from th' Tallfolk, but we can't do that while we're tryin t' claw each other's eyes out. Yew can't smash open a man's skull n' learn what's in his mind, they gotta tell you."
The little lizard puts away the worn spellbook and looks at the floor. "Then... there's th' sadder part. When Ah first left, mah dreams were a little smaller. Ah wanted to find th' Fruit o' Paradise, n' bring green back to th' Mountain. Make my people happy. But as Ah travelled, Ah thought of what would happen were Ah t' succeed. Th' Mountain'd be green again, an' my people could live'n flourish... till th' Tallfolk come."
Sprig's voice breaks a little, but continues his story. "They'd kill us fer our Mountain, an' claim that we were th' fiends for keepin' the bounty of nature fer ourselves. In a way, Ah suppose they'd be right, but we haven't been on friendly terms fer as long back as th' Mountain stood. If we're t' fix the world, that gift's gotta be shared with everyone, or we'll destroy th' people we set out t' save."
Sprig shoots a quick glance at Bas and Shot before responding. As he turns to the guards, his teeth bare themselves into his favorite smile. "Aah guards! Ain't yew a sight fer sore eyes? Been a long road, an' its good t' some real men o' th' law. Ah can see mah reputation precedes me, so what's the talk about town? All good things Ah hope?"
”Just that you exist. If you’re ‘specially curious, Mort at the general store there would know a bit. ‘Bout your reputation, sure, but also a bit of everything else too.”
Brindle listens carefully as Sprig outlines his past. She wonders at his breadth of vision, and her own lack of a mighty plan to save the land and/or her tribe. There is clearly much to learn down here...
”I am pleashed I have found you all. Together we can achieve much that ish good.”
Brindle assumes a submissive posture as they enter the township, aware that these are settled folk who may have negative experiences of her kind. She says little and refrains from “smiling” lest it be taken awry.
Saraon doesn't speak as they travel, but there's a smile clear in his eyes. When Sprig finishes his story, he offers the kobold a hug.
When they arrive, he jumps off the wagon and greets the guard.
"A merry meeting!"
After some hesitation, Sprig accepts Saraon's gesture.
---
"Well, I'll be sure t' make introductions then. 'Fore yew head off Mister, might Ah innerest yew in a sample o' my wares? Got some ale all th' way from High Gulch, ready t' crack open. My treat of course." Sprig's smile widens just a little as he says this.
The lizard clapped his claws and started barking orders. "Alright, Shot 'n Bill, yew two help me unload the ale n cargo. Ah'm certain the saloon could use some restocking. Big Bill, Lefty, Ah want y'all t' stable them horses n' get ready fer the workday in th' morrow. It's been a why-le since we been in a town this big, it's gonna be busy day!"
The kobold attempts to help his men with the hauling, but he's not really up to the task. He instead takes note of Brindle's quiet attitude and heads to the General Store to buy something...
Level 0
Open/Close
Prestidigitation
Mage hand
Mending
Level 1
Expeditious Excavation (2x)
Summon Minor Monster
Reduce Person
Level 2
Summon Monster 2 (2x)
One of the guards, a man with bushy sideburns and an odd scar across his forehead, sucks in his teeth and says, ”Free ale is awful temptin’. Best not drink on the job though.”
Sprig rambles over to the general store, a two-story stucco building with a sign above the door reading ”Mort’s”, and sees a sign hanging on the door that says ”Closed for the night. Come back later.”
The inside of the shop is visible through the windows, and it looks to be a tidy little store. Rows of shelves are stocked with goods from across the Barrens, and there’s even a few bins that look like they’d be used to store produce.
Mort’s, however, seems like it’ll have to wait until morning.
As Sprig walks away, Ralrae calls out to him. "Sprig, hold a moment - let me walk with you. I'm curious about this curious merchant myself, and it's always better to have a partner in a city."
The kobold stands as tall as he can to peer into Mort's windows. "Seems like he ain't in, Ralrae. Ah think Ah'll head t' the saloon and get us some rooms for the night. Might get us some grub too, if yer hungry."
Sprig heads back to the wagons, taking a quick look at the competition. He stops by where Brindle was hiding and tries to reassure her. "Brindle, Ah'm gettin us rooms fer the night. If you want t' stay here, in th' wagon, yer free to. Tomorrow, ah'm gonna pick up a shawl 'er somethin' t' hide your identity or at least make you look more friendly. Not that you aren't." He says the last one with a cheeky smile.
Afterwards, he meets up with Bas at the saloon. "Say Bas, You seem t' be down ever since we left Payday. How about Ah get yew a drink? What'd yew like?"
Seeing the store not open, Saraon strokes his chin (or rather the tip of his mask's snout) and takes a closer look. He was the Duskdragon after all. This was his time.
Brindle nods sheepishly.
”I’ll shtay with the wagon S-Sprig.”
Brindle makes much effort in bundling soft items into a nest and hunkers down. She lies there, waiting to see if anyone else stays, and will then organise some shifts for watch during the night.
Saraon doesn’t see anything tremendously special, save for a few pieces of what look like tech in a locked glass case behind the counter.
The Exchange saloon is a far cry from the chaos of the King’s Court. A freshly lacquered wooden sign indicates that the establishment is called ”MurKagran’s”
A group of gnomes in the corner plays a polka, a jaunty onslaught of accordions, fiddles, and upright bass. An older gnome woman at the head belts out a song in Gnomish. The lyrics, even if one could speak the language, are unclear.
An older half-orc stands behind a well kept bar across the room polishing glasses. In between the bar and the party are almost a dozen tables full of scavengers, prospectors, and farmers. There’s a row of booths along the wall for those who want a bit more privacy.
Bas and Ralrae notice someone sitting in the the last booth dressed in a hooded, multicolored poncho made from heavy cloth. Most of their features are obscured, save for a hand with the slight glint of metal.
"Oh Dont worry about it Sprig. Just wore down and tired of folks reactions to my scaring. It'll pass."
He said quietly with a frown. That was mostly the issue. He was nursing a beer, getting drunk only usually made the meloncholy feelings get worse not better.
"Everyone here fits cept that fellow in the corner there Mr. Sprig, look at that crazy poncho."
"Aye, but I'm noticing the light off it's hand.... I'm admittedly leery of any more mechanical people around here, and have a fear that might be another one." Ralrae makes sure to remind the small group of the previous encounter with the unstable contraption, and is hesitant to approach another possible being like that one - possibly a more stable one, though with that poncho there's no guarantee.
Sprig attempts to peer over to the other booths, but his small stature made it difficult to see past the crowd. "Whell, Ah ain't looking t' start a fight in the middle of town, Ah say we leave 'im alone. Though, if yew think 'e might be one of th' bandits, maybe keep an eye on 'im till he leaves n' give 'em a tail. Ah know y'all are light on yer feet when yew wanna be."
"An' speakin' of light feet, Ah think it's high time Ah strut my stuff!" Sprig says with a twinkle in his eye. He slams the last of his drink and swaggers onto the floor.
Sprig sets to dancing, and though he’s not the best he certainly gives it his all.
The poncho’d person gets up and leaves the saloon. A few minutes later, one of the servers, a middle-aged halfling woman, hands Sprig a beer and a note in small, precise handwriting reading, ”You’ve got courage. A valuable thing to have. If you’ve got a posse, there’s an opportunity worth discussing. I’ll be waiting out front.”
You notice a person in a multicolored poncho walk out of the saloon and light up a cigar. Though the person’s face isn’t visible, their hand seems to be made of metal.
"Thanks darlin'." Sprig says and flips the server a copper piece.
After reading the note, the kobold returns to the table with the others. "Seems like our friend made th' first move. 'E wants t' meet me outside. Y'all comin' with?" He says between sips of his beer.
Taking his drink and anyone who tags along, Sprig heads out the saloon.
Brindle makes note of which way the metal-handed technicolour dreamponcho-wearing personage heads. If Saraon is nearby, and when Sprig, Ral and Bas return Brindle will alert them.
”There wazh a person, with a metallic hand. They went that way. With a lit cigar...”