"It was 400 for each of you all. Give me a moment."
He rummages through a large trunk in his office before producing some large rawhide pouches which clink heavily as he sets them on his desk.
He scratches the back of his neck and says sheepishly, "Well, it doesn't sit too well with my conscience not givin' the coin I promised for honest work, but I suppose it's what you want."
Sprig is able to track down Shot, who's slouched in one of the chairs in front of the Murphy's, the only saloon in town. He wears a puzzled expression on his face as he watches the townsfolk go by.
"Well Pete, iff'n you're worried about it Ah suppose we can call it a favor. Maybe sometime I'll need help, eh?" With his best crocodile smile, the kobold takes his leave.
Sprig walks right up to the seated man with his usual wide grin. "Ah see yew made it! Good, good! Yah got 'ere in one piece and ain't causin' no fuss wit th' townsfolk. I'd say that's proof enough t' welcome yah aboard, Shoot."
He takes the befuddled man's hand in his claws and gives it a firm shake. "Now then, Ah ain't innerested in what you did 'fore now. Yew now work fer me, a brand new start. Ah'll set yew up right. The kobold releases his new hire's hand to reveal three gold pieces in it.
"There's yer first week's pay with a lil' extra t' get yerself supplied. Come meet us by th' wagon tomorrow, and we'll be off." With a tip of his hat, the little lizard goes about his business.
Saraon mostly listens quietly and nods, but speaks up when they come to the Iron Tree and the mysterious tech.
"There is more...the bandits had marks of Haexius scattered about the camp...the old war god. Considering what we have here, and what that note implies, this enemy may be far more organized than mere bandits. This is why I asked to speak privately. I did not want to risk starting rumors or worse, panic, that someone may be trying to actually raise a true army. Such a thing has not been seen since the breaking of the old world."
Though the initial meeting is slightly tense, the three other caravan guards warily accept Shot into their number.
Pete accepts Sprig’s proposal of a favor being owrd before saying, ”Bandits following Haexius? Must say, that’s odd, even for bandits. Let me think, if you’re makin’ your way to Exchange, I reckon you’ll pass through Payday, might ask someone there.”
Payday is one of the few towns in the region that does business with bandits, and though most bandits there are on betting behavior than normal, it’s a rough town.
Casey heads off to the saloon as well and orders a drink before finding a table to himself. He nonchalantly keeps an eye on Sprig and his meeting with Shot just for curiosity sake. Sure hope that little dragon fellow knows what he's doin', he thinks to himself before taking a drink.
"I know the town. Though they welcome anyone, most do not feel welcome because of how...callous some of those there can be. Is the Iron Tree in the same direction?"
”Yep, one of the roads to Exchange goes straight through it.”
During what little spare time he has, the kobold uses his earth moving magics to help the townsfolk plow fields and dig holes. He only has the two castings prepared, but puts them to good use.
As they saddle up and load the fresh goods onto the wagon, Sprig attempts to talk to the more standoffish Tallfolk. "Casey, yew ever been t' this Payday? I know yer th' wandering type, an' Ah'm still try'na get used t' High Gulch. Figure it's best t' know 'fer we head in, might need t' chain th' ol' strongbox."
He keeps a Light detector in the chest as well, so he'll know if someone tries to open it in the daytime/under torchlight.
19 hp, break DC 25
1 Ox (Sprig's share): 7.5gp
75 Gallons Mead: 150 gp
650lbs Coffee: 32.5 gp
650lbs Citrus: 19.5 gp
Total Sales: 209.5
Buying
Bedroll: 0.1gp
Chain: 30gp
Lock(average): 40gp
Horse Feed (9 days): 0.45gp
Stabling (1 day, 4 horses): 2gp
Dog feed (Meat, 7 days): 2.1gp
75 gallons of Ale: 15gp
650lbs of Cheese: 13gp
650lbs of Sugar: 32.5gp
Total Purchases: 135.15
Total Change: +74gp 3sp 5cp
All sales and purchases were made at market value, subject to GM's discretion. If required, sales roll below.
Level 0
Ghost Sound
Prestidigitation
Mage hand
Mending
Level 1
Expeditious Excavation (2x)
Summon Minor Monster
Reduce Person
Level 2
Create Pit
Summon Monster 2
While Sprig helps the townsfolk with moving the earth, Saraon takes time to aid them in sowing it, alerting them to how best to space and plant their crops in the kobold-tilled soil, as well as warning them about the blights going around and how to keep it out of their crops.
The next day, he's already up with the dawn, performing a small rite of the Halcyon Circle, to attune himself with the Worldsong anew.
"Deatea deratea kidakida arugaru deatea deratea kidakida arugaru..." he chants. When the song is complete, Saraon rejoins the others in packing and preparing for the trip to Payday.
Casey gathers his things together and packs the majority of them on his horse, ready to move out.
Ralrae doesn't really have a lot to wrap up in town; he takes his payout and does some minor shopping to replenish rations and the like, but is not really looking for anything specific. After all, he's very familiar with the markets in High Gulch, and there isn't anything there that calls to him.
The party sets out along the worn and beaten track to Exchange, passing by where they met Bertha, and even by the canyon where the bandits had holed up. Shot seems a bit shaken by the sight, clearly not expecting to be reminded of his past so soon. It’s around twilight on the second day that the party runs across an odd sight. A humanoid figure, either heavily armored or entirely metallic lurches down the road in halting, unpredictable steps. Stranger still, it seems to be talking in mostly unrecognizable gibberish.
”Sphere. Grxvbfen. Mouse. Qsdbnmkre. Mmlljgree.”
Sprig was wiped out after working through the daylight with Saraon, and had just settled in for a nap when they encountered the strange metal man. As he lay against his pack with his hat over his eyes, one could hear gentle snores coming from underneath. Daytime work was always hard on nocturnals.
Brindle sees the lurching figure and lopes in to the caravan.
"Shp...Sprig! Wayk up!" she reaches in and enunciating clearly tries to rouse the kobold.
The party sets out along the worn and beaten track to Exchange, passing by where they met Bertha, and even by the canyon where the bandits had holed up. Shot seems a bit shaken by the sight, clearly not expecting to be reminded of his past so soon. It’s around twilight on the second day that the party runs across an odd sight. A humanoid figure, either heavily armored or entirely metallic lurches down the road in halting, unpredictable steps. Stranger still, it seems to be talking in mostly unrecognizable gibberish.
”Sphere. Grxvbfen. Mouse. Qsdbnmkre. Mmlljgree.”
Saraon rises and pulls out his sword as the metallic being appears.
"Does anyone recognize those words, or is it just the gibberish of a mind broken by time and worse?"
Sprig shakes awake. "Wha.. Consarnit! Wha's goin on?" He rises as quickly as a man who's just woken can and peers past the driver's seat to see the strange metal man. "Aw hell."
Sprig crouches low, trying to hide behind the wagon's wall. Moving as quietly as he can, the kobold skitters over to Brindle. "S-so yew want me t' try n' t-talk to 'im? He l-looks like trouble, but yew never know."
Sitting on the back of his horse, staring at the metal man with a look of no concern as his toothpick sits still, "If I were a gamblin' man I'd bet on gibberish. I ain't so sure we can actually speak to it."
"I would as well. Even Sprig probably wouldn't be able to calm it down. Sprig, do you think you could open one of those pits under it? Allow our gunmen to take potshots at it?"
Brindle nods.
”Dropit inna pit. Then we can converse.” she says, taking care to move her lips to make a clear “s”.
"A-alright, Ah suppose 'ere goes nothin'!" Sprig claps his hands together and stomps his feet, causing a pit to open up beneath the stranger. He then scuttles back behind the others, as far as he can.
It seems as if the robot will plummet into the pit as the ground opens beneath it but at the last moment it jerks out of the way, avoiding the pit entirely. It scans it’s surroundings, clearly unaware of who or whatever tried to send it plummeting.
Shaking his head, "It's not here to kill us, fellas," he states matter of factly. "If it was, it would've already attacked. I think it's tryin' to tell us somethin'. And being the metal contraption that it is, I think it's broke. That's why it's speakin' gibberish. Don't guess one of you knows how to fix it, do you?" he asks.
"I dunno about fixing it... It's an odd.. fella.., to be sure."
Ralrae tries to remember anything he might know about metallic beings like this in the wasteland areas.
He frowned at the machine his head half tilted to the side. He did slowly move to interject himself between the potential trouble and his companions.
"Maybe try talking to it in other languages? Maybe it might recognize one of them?"
Ralrae knows that this is a robot. Robots have varying levels of intelligence, though any this machine may have once posessed has likely long since vanished.
Most robots carry out commands issued to them before the apocalypse, assuming their capacities have not degraded.
Sprig shivered, but pooled his courage and walked into the open. Speaking as steadily as he can, the little lizard spoke to the metallic man. "H-Howdy there, compadre! Ah err, notice yer havin' a bit o' trouble there. Somethin' we can 'elp yew with?"
The kobold's eyes dart to his companions, hoping that he hasn't just made a mistake.
Brindle shadows the kobold, weapons held but lowered, head cocked to one side considering the metal man. She begins to move a little to the side of the man to ready a flank if necessary...
Sprig approaches the robot from behind and begins speaking. It’s head turns completely around to reveal a mostly featureless face, with the exception of three glassy circles that seem to be eyes. Two are cracked and dark, but one glows with a soft blue light.
”Kkgrrrggzt. Clamber. Nnnnbvvvgrrn. Rrrrrgt. Blackjack. Knchgnkch.”
A closer view of the robot does reveal several details. It’s plating is missing in several places, revealing tight bundles of silvery wire. The robot’s legs are quite worn, even for the surprisingly strong metal most robots are mare of.
Saraon follows Sprig and Brindle, and as the robot speaks, he tilts his head too, more in confusion than anything else.
"It's...not attacking at least. It may want our help, but be incapable of asking."
"It's definitely tryin' to tell us somethin'. But until we can find a way to fix it, I'm thinkin' we're just beatin' a dead horse."
It seems the automaton isn't hostile, and Sprig sighs with relief. Not certain what to make of the clearly broken machine, he invites the bot to stay for the night. "Alright friend, I believe we're settin' up camp for th' night iff'n yew wanna stick around, tho yew ain't obligated t' stay if yah need t' hit the dusty trail."
The kobold sets about to getting the camp set up, eager to get to sleep himself. Once everything's finished, he takes a moment to talk to the two humans. "Casey, Bas, how about yew boys look into our guest once we get t' town, see if anyone know's anythin'? Yew don't see a clanker erryday."
Saraon seats himself after they finish setting camp.
"Maybe we will find someone with enough knowledge of the past there to try and fix it...or at least one who understands what it's saying."
"Yessir Sprig, I'll see if i cant find a few folk who know something when we get to town."
He began still keeping a wary eye on the machine. He had learned one thing in his travels in the wastes, those things were stronger than they looked.
Nodding, "We ought to be able to find somebody who knows somethin' about these things."
Brindle eyes the metal creature with suspicion mixed with curiosity.
”I don’t brain it then?” she asks.
”Trousers. Mmhdjkdl. Lambent. Kkjdjql. Wrrrrrrrkt.”
Following some unknowable directive, the creature looks each member of the party in the eyes before wandering off a ways down the road and abruptly stopping.
'No need for braining just yet... But let's you and I keep a lookout, eh?" Ralrae replies to Brindle's comment. "It's stopping a little ways off... I say we let it be for now and see if anything happens in the morning. Better for us if we have some warning if it's programming goes haywire - or starts working again."
Leaning upon his horse's neck as the robot walks away, Casey looks on with curiosity. "Hm." Nudging his horse, he rides at a leisurely pace to where the robot stopped. Upon reaching the walking machine, he gets off his horse and moves to stand next to the robot before scanning the area and wondering if it's looking for something specific.
"You lookin' for somethin', pardner?" he asks as he keeps his eyes on the lookout for anything of interest.
Brindle shadows the automaton, languidly loping in sharp contrast to the thing’s stiff and jerky gait. She almost seems to want to brain it out of pity more than fear or hatred.
Saraon follows after Casey and Brindle and the robot, curious as to what it might be looking for.
The machine startles into animation when Casey walks up to it. ”Krrrbzzzn. Danger. Mnnnmpak. Shelters. Grrrk. Martial. Llllllnt.”
It begins repeating this same, slightly garbled message, whatever it means.
Casey concentrates on the machine's words, trying to decipher them. With his toothpick moving right to left in thought, "So I'm guessin' there are some folks' 'shelters' that are in 'danger'. Not sure what to do with 'martial' though." He turns his attention to the robot, "Don't s'pose you know where we can get ya fixed up do ya? 'Cause we can try and get you fixed up if you're willin'."
Ralrae isn't sure why so many of the others are walking up to the metal creature, and it makes him nervous. He pulls his musket from its holster out and makes sure it is loaded and ready at hand.
Saraon crosses his arms and listens, curiosity clear in his eyes behind his mask.
"You're getting much further than any of us did with this...machine? I do not wish to insult them on the off chance they CAN understand us and DO have feelings...Stranger things have happened in this old and broken world."
"perhaps is some old lawmen bot? The town it worked in is in trouble and its looking for the marshal? Does it have a badge or anything?"
He called to the others, much like Ralrae he didn't want to get too close to the thing. It might still be dangerous.
Sprig looked up from the pot he was stirring and chimed in. "Th' way I figure it, it sounds like there's danger up ahead. Somethin's hiding's a bunch o' martial types who might be lookin' t hurt passersby. Figure it's best we keep our eyes peeled on th' comin' days."
The kobold tastes a bit of the soup and shakes his head. Looking to either side to make sure nobody's watching, he sneakily casts Prestidigitation to spruce up the flavor. "Ah'm afraid there ain't much ah can do for th' clanker. Ah've put together a firearm 'r two, but these fancy machines 'r beyond me. Best Ah can do is say it ain't kobold make, too big and er... too small, if yew know what Ah mean."
He tastes the soup again, smiles, then calls out to the others. "Alright, soups up! Get some grub!"
It's a simple cheese and mushroom soup with small bits of spiced meat. It's served with a rough, sturdy bread that Sprig picked up back in High Gulch, two days ago. The kobold is actually not that great of a cook, but with a little touch of magic, it turns out fine.
Brindle eyes the “shoop” with deep suspicion, but after being enjoined to eat more times than is seemly she takes a sip, then a gulp then tips the bowl into her maw, much of it streaming either side of her snout.
”Shreally good Sh...Sh...S...p...riig!”
Ralrae leans back, sipping at his bowl of soup. "Many thanks for the meal, Sprig. You really know how to travel in style... This caravan of yours, heading whichever way the profits blow, eating an actual meal every night... A scrounger like meself could get used to such luxuries. It's a nice way to be."
The robot begins to blare loudly and menacingly, ”Compliance! Mnslmkant. Authorized! Hstlmnnnt.”