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Flikk stares down at his personal wayfinder and points down the dirt road "See, what I tell you, magic pointer never get us lost. It says follow road, we follow road, find Sour Town." He points ahead, chewing on the rawhide collar of his hide armor.
Flikk is a stout goblin, never afraid to speak his mind or throw his considerable (for his size anyhow) weight around. Over this long trip he frequently backs up (or picks a fight about) anything goblin related, you're pretty sure even when he doesn't understand what's going on. His faith in his kind never wavers. He also seems to really enjoy yelling.
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The Squire is a short, stocky, broad-shouldered young man, not far from his 20's.
With cropped dark brown hair, deep-set black eyes, and his pockmarked russet-brown skin, filled with scars and black burn-lines, it seems as if his face has just wasted away...
He didn't talk that much during the trek, but you see he is used to walking and carrying things.
And he talks all the time about how "Master told Squire how to pitch a tent" and how Master said this and that.
He wears a used set of chain mail, filled with cuts and bloodstains, has a battered shield with makeshift spikes on his arm, and a well-used battle axe at his hip.
The one thing he cares about, is this beautiful shield, painted with the red symbol of Iomedae on a pure white background, and the crest of the Knights of Ozem shining on its well-burnished shield boss.
And the Squire cleans it every morning, noon and evening.
During the trek you saw his gear is comprised of a backpack, a bandolier with field-surgeon’s tools, a sling & pouch of bullets on his belt, beside his flint & steel.
Doubtless he never disagreed with Flikk: "Master never talked about Goblins. The Squire does not know much about Goblins."
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Tuhduh is a colorfully dressed goblin wearing mismatched with a happy-go-lucky demeanor. He's often plays his flute whether anyone wants him to or not, but somehow those around him always find inspiration in it, or at the very least find his ignorant outlook on the world endearing.
Tuhduh turns to Flikk with a smile, "Ooo. Well done, Flikk. You do well to lead us to where we are. I'll have to get me one of those."
"Master Squire, it is probably best your master never talked to you about us goblins. It is best you make your own idea of us. Stories longshanks tell of goblins do not, how do you say . . . 'show us in best light.'" Almost as an after thought, "Maybe, you meet Flikk and me and tell your own stories of goblins. Good stories."
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Ionic gives a small grimace of commiseration. The big brown beard with a few grey hairs woven in and almost giving the impression of it being covered in salt does quite a bit to hide the expression. He moves over up to the young man an gives him a pat on the back. In his clipped, heavily accented voice he adds. "Dat's hard. Real hard, Sorry ta hear it, boy. Hard ta lose people ya like. Lastwall was 'specially bad. Can only mourn. Den move on."
The short but broad man then gives a roll of his shoulders and readjusts his actually salt-encrusted leathers, checking his big battle axe, trident, and war hammer are all accessible. Each is mostly void of decoration, either worn away from years of careful use or made plain to begin with, but all are well oiled, sharpened and in excellent condition despite the clear years of use. In contrast to his plain weapons though is his clan dagger at his hip, the thing ornate and polished to a luster generally only reached by brand new weapons.
He tries to stay silent about the goblin issues, having very early on stated, 'In de shackles, goblins're like any oder pirate. No more, no less. Ain't got beef with ya or yours.' and has left it at that. He looks around the camp and gives a stretch. "Glad ain't mosquitoes here. Last mission was Terrible! Dey every. in ya hair,food, water, even dreams."
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A tall Ulfen Man, his uncombed blond hair down to his shoulders and has arms the size of the goblin heads. A greatsword strapped to his back.
He gives a hearty laugh. "Young Squire, in my village we sing many stories about goblins. And as we sing, the children dance with spears that have heads of goblins on the ends of them. It's a great family time that we enjoy with a feast." Vandor says with his deep rolling voice.
The next day you arrive in Sauerton during the late morning.
The town of Sauerton is primarily comprised of row upon row of neatly kept vineyards, interspersed with old stone villas built in the Chelaxian style. Each plot of grapevines is accompanied by vats for crushing grapes and extruding their juice, along with a large warehouse for storing and aging the wine.
The vineyards bustle with the busy hands of numerous workers, though the packed dirt and cobblestone roads have few other travelers during these industrious hours.
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Tuhduh gives a Vandor a toothy grin, "Glad to haar you spend quality time with your family." He then motions for Vandor to walk in front, "After you, good sir."
These are listed in my Equipment. No special preparations.
Pathfinder Training Items:
Minor Healing Potion
Feather Token (Ladder)
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A tall Ulfen Man, his uncombed blond hair down to his shoulders and has arms the size of the goblin heads. A greatsword strapped to his back.
He gives a hearty laugh. "Young Squire, in my village we sing many stories about goblins. And as we sing, the children dance with spears that have heads of goblins on the ends of them. It's a great family time that we enjoy with a feast." Vandor says with his deep rolling voice.
Ionic leans in closer to Squire, glancing at the goblins in the group. [smaller]"Dat's ... whatchacall, uh, 'insensitive' isn't? Just me? Eh, seems onna dem's fine with it." He watches the events unfold as he falls to the back of the group, not wanting a fight to break out behind him. The dwarf then slowly gets distracted by the beautiful scenery around him, the grapes and the hints of good quality wine in the air.
Not many things to prepare
Pathfinder training,
Minor healing potion
Holy water
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The Squire shrugs: "Well, if you still have family... well, family that is not un-dead that is, enjoy it any way you can,"
He carefully unwraps the Minor Healing Potion and Potency Crystal that he was entrusted with, and fixes the Crystal to the nice shield of his master.
Upon arriving in Sauerton he sees all the vineyards: "That is nice! Master would like it here. He liked to drink a lot of wine.
Never tried it myself, Master said I would not like it..."
He stops in the path, and looks around, wondering who will tell him where to go.
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Another stout and quite burly-looking goblin keeps to himself. At odd intervals, he pulls out a nasty, warped and jagged looking blade from his hip, inspecting it like it is a blade of fine quality. Each of his hands is covered with plates and spikes, making the goblin look like a walking weapon. And this suits him just fine. Loohi tends to spend the majority of the trip to Sauerton quiet. But as the Squire and others start discussing the merits of goblin-kind, he chimes in "You know, Mr. Squires, I never had a good outlooks on longshanks like you until I got to works with them. Most of thems are good folks. Not like the longshanks guards I met in prison." He uncomfortably laughs at Vandor's recollection of his home town and not-so-subtly separates himself from the large man.
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Flikk bites his lip at the barbarian's words, but that doesn't stop him from thinking nasty thoughts and getting angry just the same. Stupid longshanks needs to take long walk off tall cliff with eyes closed!
His mind does calm slightly as he sees all the free food growing all around. "Smell good. Stop for snack?" He gives a closer look at Loohi Loohi's spikes and such and smiles, pointing to his own spiked guantlet he's got stowed for now.
"Not sure town real happy seeing lotta stabbers and choppers from group of us, not right off. They get nervous. Big meetings don't go good with lots of those out first."
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Tuhduh gives a Vandor a toothy grin, "Glad to haar you spend quality time with your family." He then motions for Vandor to walk in front, "After you, good sir."
Goblin:
"Hopefully he remembers that we're on the same side."
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Tuhduh gives a Vandor a toothy grin, "Glad to haar you spend quality time with your family." He then motions for Vandor to walk in front, "After you, good sir."
Goblin:
"Hopefully he remembers that we're on the same side."
"I have 3 silver coins burning a hole in me pouch, first round is on me." giving a laugh
You are on the cobblestone road that leads into Sauerton. There isn’t any other traffic on the road right now, but the vineyards on either side of the road are being worked by people.
Where do you want to go?
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Flikk gets a smug look on his face as the Longshanks need a leader. Flikk always want to be glorious leader! This is Flikk's time to rise to the top and LEAD LONGSHANKS! RULE LONGSHANKS! From his pocket Flikk pulls out a piece of crumpled, then uncrumpled, then crumpled, then uncrumpled and at one time folded piece of paper. He clears his throat and references the document he received at the start of this trip.
"The big ten bosses have instructed me, Flikk, to lead our group of Path-Finders to find... Thalia Andares! Important mayor lady here at Sour-Town." He gestures around the fields of vines and the people picking them "These people not be her, she be in a nice, big important hut, high on hill somewhere. This is how longshanks do things."
He waves the others to follow and calmly heads into town to find the biggest and most grandest of huts, where surely Thalia resides.
As you walk further into town, you find a somewhat larger estate. It has clearly been rebuilt recently and the vineyards around it are sparse and covered with fresh loam and soil.
Sitting outside of the house in the veranda is a human woman that looks to be in her mid-thirties. She has long, dark hair and an open, friendly face.
“Hey there, strangers!” she calls out. “You must be the Pathfinders Brackett told me to expect. I've done a little digging on your behalf but haven't turned up much yet.
Why don't you all join me on the veranda for a glass of wine while we talk about your mission here?”
She gestures to the roofed porch she is sitting at. There are a couple of tables and several chairs including a giant rocking chair, five normal size chairs, and three smaller chairs that would fit a halfling, gnome or goblin. There is a pitcher and several mugs at the table she is sitting near.
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Flikk nods at Loohi, then gives him a goblin fist bump.
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Flikk stops at the large estate and eye balls the woman, glances down at his crinkled/uncrinkled note and nods "Yes, see that is the one we gotta meet! Put away all your sharp stuff and let's go have a meeting."
He quickly hops up onto the porch, grabs the pitcher and a glass, and sits down in the largest chair available Big Chair for big Boss! He raises the pitcher then stops and fills the mug instead, setting back in the rocking chair and swaying slowly to the sweet sweet rhythm of leadership.
"Sit sit, everyone sit! Lots to talk to Mayor of Sour-Town about." Flikk nods respectfully as he introduces himself "I Flikk, emissary of Path-Finders. These are my men. How can we help?"
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Loohi smiles at Thalia, and puts on his longshanks speak, "Good day, Ms. Andares. I am Loohi Loohi and am very pleased to meet you. I would love to sample the fruits of this town's labors." Seeing the appropriately sized seats for himself and the other goblins, Loohi is genuinely touched, not usually feeling this welcomed by the wider world. He sits down and pours himself a small mug, gingerly sipping at the dark liquid. "This truly is delightful."
“Oh!” she says in surprise as Flikk grabs the pitcher.
Recovering quickly, she says “Pleased to meet you, I am Thalia Andares. The mayor of Sauerton.” She enunciates the name of the town when she says it.
Flikk finds that the pitcher is filled with a red wine.
As the rest of you sit down, she grabs a second pitcher that was in the shade behind her chair and offers each of you a mug of wine. “Have some Sauerton Red, our local wine.” She will move to the next person if someone declines the beverage.
She then takes a seat on her chaise longue and asks the group “So, how can I help you?”
This is a sour red wine. Maybe Flikk is right and it should be called Sour Town! Anyone who appreciates the finer things in life would probably have several colorful phrases to describe the taste of it. It is slightly better tasting than vinegar.
On the other hand, it appears there is plenty of it to drink! Quantity is likely its best quality, followed by alcohol content.
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Flikk stops mid drink and sets down the glass. Then replies with his mouthful "This... taste like sour pickles... not taste like grapes at all." He smiles and tries to be polite though, his past training as an emissary put to the test. He lets the wine slowly leak down his throat, keeping his tongue out of the way to taste it less.
"We here to find important old stuff for Path Finders." He clears his throat a bit and takes a sip of his water skin, avoiding the wine. "Long time ago old Path Finder, Naps-alot... Karrinna Naps-alot... had big hut here? Maybe it still around?" He looks at his note again, trying to read the scrawling script.
The mayor does not seem insulted by Flikk’s wine critique. “It is an acquired taste.”
“Sorry, I don’t know that name. I thought you were here for something about the old lodge?” She seems genuinely puzzled. “Is that what you meant by big hut?”
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After taking a seat. Vandor takes a drink of the wine, and when the taste hit him he scrunches up his face and forces the swallow of in down.
"You use this stuff to pickle fish or something?
"Acquired taste is right."
As he pushes the glass away from him.
"Can I get a bottle for the cooks back at my village. I am sure they will love it."
With the goblin's questioning
"We see the lodge that a Kerinha Napsunar had here in this town."
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Tuhduh gives a bow to Thalia, "Greetings, Mayor Andares. I am Tuhduh." He has a seat and pours himself some of the wine. He takes a sip. His eyes twitch from the sour taste. He smiles wide and takes an even bigger second gulp then continues, "Yes, as Flikk here as said we looking for old Pathfinder lodge. Very old, I believe. Older than this, even," he says motioning to the estate.
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Eyeing the wine, the Squire says: "Oh, Master would have been so happy here, with all this fine wine!"
The Squire then salutes the Mayor, clicking his heels together, before bowing deep to her.
"Greetings, madam Thalia Andares, mayor of Sauerton!", enunciating the name as she did.
"I gather you are the Master of all these parts?! If so, I will obey your command, and follow the edict of my Master, to save a damsel in distress!"
He then looks around, mumbling to himself: "Is there a bedroom to talk strategy in, Master always tried to do that with damsels in distress..."
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Ionic stays pretty silent during the trip up, not sure what to make of the Ulfen-goblin interactions but not really finding a reason to go rocking that boat. He takes a larger seat and pours himself out mug full of the wine. He takes a sip, grimaces some but keeps drinking.
"Better dan spoiled rum. Never drink old shoe rum. Almost deadly."
He watches Squire doing his introduction and mentally sighs, His master just keeps sounding better and better... The dwarf stands up and leads the young man to a chair. "Have somma dis. But go slow. Bit strong. Also, doubt de mayor's in distress. Ya can relax, son."
Not sure of exactly what Vandor thinks, the mayor offers "Yes, I can get you a bottle or two before you leave."
Once she understands that the name is connected to the old lodge, she tells you "Sorry, I hadn't heard the name before. Frankly, I don't know terribly much about the old lodge."
"The Strickmund winery was built long before I was born, but from what I was able to find in old records about Sauerton, the land the lodge was built on was bought by Ven Strickmund’s great-great-grandfather about 100 years ago. Apparently Ven’s ancestor was a Pathfinder, so he might be able to tell you more.
Be patient, though; Ven likes to talk and takes his time getting to the point. Particularly when he’s interrupted before he finishes his thought.”
“Ven is one of Sauerton's oldest living residents, and a passable vintner. If anyone in town can tell you anything about what the Pathfinders were doing on that land back when they still owned it, Ven will be the one.” Having tasted the local wine, some of you doubt anyone here knows what a passable vintner is.
She gives your group directions to his place.
She then stands and looking towards Vandor says “Give me just a moment and I will get you a couple of bottles of wine,” She goes into the manor and is back out in about five minutes with a pair of bottles which she hands to Vandor.
“Best of luck with your expedition!”
A winery rests on the hilltop ahead, surrounded by fields with neatly ordered rows upon rows of grape vines and trellises. The winery is built of dark, well‑polished wood, the steps leading to the front door grooved with the passage of many feet.
A very old man with a long grey beard sits in a rocking chair that might be older than he is. He is enjoying the shade provided by the covered deck that serves as the front porch of his winery. You notice his teeth are stained a light magenta color, most likely caused by years of sampling the wine produced,
When he sees you, he raises one hand in a vigorous wave and calls out “Well, 'ello there friends! Welcome t' Sauerton! Thalia let me know ye were comin'. Grab a chair and sit a spell!”
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Flikk looks around, wondering just how in the heck did the Mayor lady beat them over here to talk to the old fella. "Hey there grey one, I am Flikk and we are Path Finders... hoping to find old Path Finder stuff in your old Lodge Hut."
He finds the biggest, bestest chair and takes a seat. "You know much about the history of this place?" He points a thumb at the old winery and associated buildings.
It is clear to Flikk there is no way the mayor beat them over here. He does remember the mayor was expecting them, so maybe she talked to the gent before today?
Old Ven tells the group “Yeah, I know all about it. My family bin here abouts fer multiple generations an we are gud about passing down the knowledge from father ta son.
Why I still remember my granpa first teaching me how ta select the grapes that gunna be in our wine. Told me all about not letting the leafs and vine into the distillen’ tanks. Had ta’ go cover them tanks up real good for a couple o the storms.
Them storms can wreck whole batches, gettin’ every thin’ too wet ta work with. Gotta keep an eye on the weather, know what I mean?
So what ya think of the weather? Outlook pretty good right now, maybe some light rain overnight, but not too hot nor too cold for peoples ta be moving around.”
Flikk and Old Ven spend about half an hour arguing about what the weather is going to be like, Flikk thinking it will stay cool with some over night rain while Old Ven is convinced it isn’t going to rain at all. He is expecting it to get hot tomorrow.
Then Old Ven starts talking about the hottest weather he remembers, how all the vines dried up and it was almost impossible to get any juice from the grapes. Gnome came through town insisting that he had a contraption that would put water into the crops so they could still make wine. Old Ven wasn’t having any of that gnomish non-sense! Oh no, not for him.