Dotting again
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The Lodge of The Falling Star, dedicated to the hawk companion of Ketephys, on the western edge of Stagfall, embraces the dulled sunset as a small gathering of peers assembles on the eve of the seconds Moonday of Gozran in the year 4720 Absalom Reckoning. A fierce rain has fallen most of the day and rivulets of water drains into barrels from the lodge's eaves.
The warmth of the lodge's hearth is a welcome brace against the cold and wet present in the city's streets. So too is the warmth of the Warden of Yggsdreth's smile when compared to the too-oft suspicious glances of Stagfall's citizens given to the recently-deputized members assembling therein.
The Warden greets each in turn by name, shaking their hands and inviting them to take a seat in one of the lodge's fur-covered, sturdy chairs. One of the lodges's servants quickly pours a drink and places a plate filled with steaming hot broth, a sizable chunk of warm bread slathered with hogfat and a heaping helping of pork mixed with sugared beans.
"Eat well, this will be the last hot meal anyone makes for you in awhile. In the morning, we go to the Narlmarches. We'll be gone for at least a month." she sharpens the axe she calls Boar Razer while she speaks. "There's a group of bandits there fancying themselves rebels, claiming the 'Marches to be the newly-minted 'Stagwood'. They seem to think it under their control. Our aim is to disjoin them of that notion."
The gnome's meaning is made clearer by the smoldering look of anger as she spits out the word 'Stagwood' and further emphasized by the tenor of dualism in the word 'disjoin'.
Anri, not impatient to begin eating, swirls the mead in her cup, presents her nose to it's brim and inhales it's essence, and suppressing a repellant snarl, whets the smallest sip, before setting it down once more.
Her eyes scan the table, first stopping upon Elinil Iomedaeson, and casting a bit of an upward disdainful expression telegraphed as a smile, having had "beaten" him back at the academy, she seems to be enjoying a memory, before glancing now upon Kazmukh Torson, now tilting her head down as if to arm herself with a ready stance, and having been "beaten" by him at the carnival games, the half-elf seems now to be formulating a future memory, and lets her smile develop with a lowering of her eyebrows into a feral stare.
But only for a beat! Because just as quickly, Anri shifts her gaze to intake the information presented to her by the outward appearance of Revna Stigen - sizing her up with a soldier's reckoning - before finally settling with a warm look upon Brennadara, in equal parts reverence and affection, remembering their "lessons" together, while her smile melts back into a serious look.
She takes another sip of her mead, waiting to be not the first person to speak...
Elinil, sharp eyed, of course catches the expression that flits across Anri's face when she looks at him. He pays her not a bit of mind, well acquainted already with her arrogance. He smiles, fully and honestly, looking on Kazmukh, a miracle to see him again. How well his childhood friend had fared, misfortune notwithstanding.
He enjoys his food, but eats quickly for all of that. There is serious discussion to be had. A pull of ale to clean his palate, and he speaks "Warden, your announcement raises many questions. First, what is known of these bandits? Do we have any idea how many of them there are? Second, what is the kingdoms policy with regards to bandits with pretensions? Death on the spot or do they need to be brought to Stagfall for trial? Third, what support do we have? Soldiers? Mounts? Provisions?"
Anri rolls her eyes at Elinil's apparent miscomprehension of Warden Kurdegarde's emphasis on the word "disjoin", and mildly perturbed, suddenly takes a hearty swig of her drink, draining the cup.
The tall broad ulfen woman took large bites of her food as the others spoke. What did it matter how much information they had upon them? Revna was sure they would die just the same like any mortal. Though she didn't speak to this, for Revna thought it should be obvious.
"Ætlarðu að borða það?" Revna asked as she pointed to the plate of Anri that was still full.
While she waited for an answer she took a long drink from her cup. "
Af hverju myndum við ekki fá hlýjar máltíðir? Getur enginn ykkar eldað?" She asked with a raised eyebrow at Mosswaxer. Then she paused for a moment, realizing not all would understand her. "Uha... why no warm meals? Not learn to cook?" She clarified as best as she could. The taldian language was still new to the young woman. Revna often spoke in the common language of her people, Skald, as she felt it more naturally. Taldian didn't feel the same and though she could understand pretty much all of it, some large words still were hard to understand, speaking it was different enough.
Though the large woman gave a chuckle at the name of the forest. "Stagwood? Það er eins og að segja kanína engi." She shook her head and ate more of the food on her plate.
A lover of languages, Anri pipes in with goodwill "Hérna. Helmingurinn sem þú gætir átt." Removing the bowl of broth, Anri cracks her bread in half, and scoops half of the fatty pork 'n sugared beans on top of it, and sets that next to her emptied cup, leaving a sizeable portion remaining on her plate, which she gracefully skids across the table towards the hungry Ulfen, adding "Ég held að við höfum ekki hist. I am Anri."
She begins slowly sipping her broth, eyeing the young human, eager to see how she responds.
Here. Half you may have.
I do not think we have met.
"Many of us have had our share of sleeping rough, Marshal." Kazmukh gives Revna and Elinil a lopsided grin.
"We'll go where we are needed to stop those bandits."
Revna's face lit up with a smile as she clapped Anri on the shoulder. "Talar þú þetta líka? Dásamlegt! Það mun hjálpa mér að útskýra erfiðari hluti fyrir litla pakkann okkar." She said before she accepted the food.
"Þakka þér fyrir! Þegar við förum til að fjarlægja þetta illska úr landinu skal ég tryggja að þú verður aldrei svangur!" Revna said as she dug into the extra food happily. Like most of her kind, Revna ate heartily. "Ég er Revna, hitti nýjan vin!"
Other than exchanging a quick greeting with Marshal Mosswaxer, Brennadara remained silent while taking her seat and listening to the briefing provided. As she picked at her bread, not particularly hungry for the food provided her eyes passed over those assembled in the hall who, those she now expected to spend the foreseeable future with.
This group should do. I've seen them all, from a distance at least. And those that I know better are trustworthy at least. The corner of the elf's mouth turned up in the hint of a smile as she saw Revna and Anri's interactions. Those two both have plenty to teach, and I think both are willing to learn. Yes, this group should do.
After passing much of the untouched food on her plate to Revna with a full smile and a permissive nod, Brennadara's head turned to Elinil as he asked his questions. Ah good, one who would learn as much as possible before leaping into a situation. Let's hope that remains the case in the field. The stolen lands seem to spawn bandits at an inexhaustible pace; I wonder if this lot we'll be ousting are anything out of the ordinary. I suppose that's part of what we're being sent to discover.
"Marshal, we will remind these dissidents under whose crown they serve, and make an example of them as circumstance dictates." Anri eyes the group as she speaks, for although not wanting to presume to speak for anyone, clearly the matter isn't up for much more than simple agreement. Besides, she is eager to prove herself to the locals, having felt the weight of their sidelong stares since her pronouncement as a Deputy.
She starts in on the last part of her meal, neatly ripping the pork-topped bread into pieces small enough not to make a mess in so eating.
To the Marshal "Do these bandits have leadership?"
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The Marshal stirs the fire, sparks dancing like faeries in the reflective lens of her eyes. "Oh, sure, if you can cook for yourself and your companions you'll have warm meals. I was just pointing out no one else will be making your meals for you." Her red hair almost matching the flickering flame, she answers your questions while musing on it's wild shapes and chaotic patterns. "The bandits are at least a score in number, and their numbers grow by the week. They are led by Akiros Ismort, a former lieutenant of the fallen Staglord. The Barone--- err, Queen gave this man forgiveness before the Battle of Stagfall, and he spits on her kindness."
"As to the Kingdom's policies, unrepentant bandits are put to the death. As to what this means in the 'Marches; we give them one chance to surrender. If they don't surrender to the authority of the Kingdom, their lives are forfeit. I don't much care for bandits who only surrender after their comrades have been defeated, but as Deputies in the field, I leave such matters to your discretion."
She takes a long sip of something in her cup, the smell of fruit and honey lingering on her breath as she continues. "Ismort is a special case. The Queen would like to discuss the nature of mercy with him. If possible, he is to be brought in alive."
Elinil looks at the marshall and ticks off the points on his fingers, "One, twenty or more bandits and growing. Two, this Ismort alive if possible. Three, if a bandit takes his one chance to surrender, he counts as repentant and we should bring him in." Elinil pauses and then continues " And four, given you have mentioned nothing with regards to support, I presume there is none."
Turning to the table "Marshall, my fellow deputies, I think we would be well served to bring a pack animal to carry supplies. Further, although I am no survivalist, I think we should bring rations for the full month if practical. If nothing else, I would not want to be needing to spend time hunting and gathering while the bandits escape justice. Also, should we purchase a hound or two for tracking? While I speak not for any others here, I have no skill in that area either. Finally, what can we expect from the weather - might we want cold weather outfits, or tents? I can contribute up to to 30 silver to a common fund to purchase such items. If we need more than that, I'll have to sing for my supper..."
Anri, finishing her food while she listens to the Marshal and Elinil, makes a mental note to obtain some manacles before departing "civilization" for a month...
"Alive is a broad category, and not wanting to upset Her Majesty, should certainly not serve as a great impediment towards reclaiming the territory militarily." She turns to Elinil "I second the proposal to requisition a beast, in the event this Ismort proves difficult to persuade" (special emphasis on this last word, miming how Mosswaxer spoke of the 'tenor of dualism' earlier) "That, or, we could also plan to repossess one or more beasts from the bandits themselves, for, given their orientation to the crown, it shouldn't stand to reason that, especially in these outskirts, the law of 'having what you hold' should not apply unilaterally. No?" Anri, having had made this 'joke', scans the faces of her peers looking for the recognition of humor well crafted (at least, according to her...) - but only for half a beat before concluding with a tone of cooperation "And yes, I can throw a bit of silver towards the cause, if that is what you all would like to do."
Brennadara nods to herself as Marshal Mosswaxer clarifies the situation some, and then listens patiently to her companion's contributions before adding her own.
"I would imagine that we don't know exactly where these bandits have set up camp, though it would be lovely to be wrong about that. On the other hand, hopefully we do know at least what general direction to head out in to find them. I would suggest that we'll probably want to stop at settlements along the way for more detailed information. It would also give us a chance to re-provision some as we go." Turning her gaze to Elinil in particular she continues, "I've spent significant time in the Narlmarches and should be able to handle basic tracking and navigation for the most part, but your skill set might be more useful for gathering information in those settlements."
Glancing around to everyone, the elf concludes her thoughts. "If there are more bandits being drawn to Akiros then I would rather move fast and light and try to re-provision along the way. We'll also only need enough supplies to get to their camp. Once we're there we'll either be able to use their supplies as Anri suggests or, if they don't have a significant cache, we won't be so hurried, so foraging and hunting would be more viable. Should some not be equipped for the journey currently I'm happy to help provide funding for that that, and in fact would suggest that that in addition to what has been mentioned already we should think ahead to potentially tending the wounded if there are to be confrontations."
Brennadara pauses briefly and looks down. "I've had too close a call already recently, and although I have some tools and training it would be wise to be prepared beyond that."
Revna gave Brennadara a thankful grin before she consolidates the three plates onto one a neatly as she could. She stacked the remaining two plates very neatly as well. Neatness was a trait Revna learned early. If one is messy not one could no one find anything, but messes tend to attract wild animals.
"Að hafa það sem þú heldur líka þýðir jörðina sem þú heldur. Það er ekki annað að segja að maður hafi haldið jörðu niðri en að segja að maður hafi haldið brauðstykki." Revna spoke up before taking a bite of her bread.
"Horses would make us move faster." Revna said when talking about the real topic on hand. "Something... no right." She stated after a long pause. "Three years passed. Akiros, why he return now? What changed?" Revna asked curiously. Taking a few more bites from her plate, chewing on both food and thought before speaking again. "Why did he not remain here? If no longer blamed, why leave?" Revna continued. "How well she know Akiros? Why mercy to a bandit? What he do for such?"
"No need for hound." Revna told Elinil with a slight unnerving smirk. "Hunt over field, river, through forest, no matter prey." She explained as best as she could. "I can fill for food." Revna said the group now as a whole. "Forest provide. River too. Food much around, if one can look for it."
"I trust the lady will teach him a lesson, and it's her right to do so." Kazmurk looks to the Marshal.
"Any word on their position or movements?"
Elinil raises an eyebrow at Revna's unnerving smirk, and replies "Yes, there is food to be found in the wild, but it takes time... With regards to horses, I would not be comfortable on a mount in a fight, and I suspect that I am not the only one."
Turning to Brennadara, "Your right, I'm a people person. The settlements I can navigate. With regards to healing, I have some magic that can help the injured but no training in medicine. Communally buying a medicine kit seems a very good idea though"
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The marshal seems to consider all your thoughts and questions while you discuss the matters at hand. She twists her hair a bit, staring hard enough at the fire it seems she's trying to absorb its warmth completely before your journey.
"I'll leave decisions on mounts and such to you, of course. Know that you will have access to the Dawnglen Lodge. It's significantly small-err, cozier, than the Falling Star, of course, but there are some food stores there, stabling, clean water, and it's location should be central to your efforts." she takes another draw of her drink before continuing. "Our intel tells us Ismort moves his camp around. One informant told us Ismort believes being tied to one location was part of the downfall of the Stag Lord. In any case, there's a number of Thorps in the area his gang has hit. There's no love for the man there, and likely you can find out more details of the bandit activities from the villagers."
She stretches her back with a cracking sound. "You've got a few hours to provision before sunset." She throws a bit of a playful glance Elinil's way before adding "I would suggest spending the night here, rather than out carousing, as a trip in the rain and mud seems much worse with a hangover."
"I'll be travelling with you from here to Dinstead, where we'll part ways. After that, I'll be seeing you in about a fortnight."
Dinstead is two days' walk along the Westmarch Road, a small Thorp with a population of just under fifty residents.
The Dawnsglen Lodge is around the midpoint between Tazzleford and Westwatch as the bird flies. It is used as a trading post by hunters and trappers as well as a safe haven for anyone travelling the Narlmarches who needs a respite for a night or two- long-term lodgers are not welcome except on official business such as yours. Traditionally, those who take rest there and/or re-provision supplies leave either food, fur, or other useful recompense, but the Lodgemaster Dungrir Kelper holds this policy very loosely.
Dungrir is a fair craftsman and spends his days building things useful to the hunters and trappers of the area. He doesn't bother much with cooking or cleaning, leaving that up to lodgers.
Brennadara listens to the Marshall's instructions, suppressing a frown at the names she doesn't recognize. I suppose I'll have to start learning the names of the newer settlements around here if I'm going to be doing this for the next while. Can't afford to ignore the people in the lands as much as I have been if I want to keep up with what they're doing after all. When the Marshall has finished Brennadara nods and turns to the group.
So there will be a central staging area. That's good. If we want to look into renting horses for the trip there at least it would probably save time even for those of us who aren't expert riders, as well as providing a fast way to get one or more of us back here to Stagfall should it be necessary at some point. Should we have them we can decide whether to use them for exploring when we get to this Dawnglen Lodge. I'll let someone more familiar with merchants investigate whether that seems feasible given our resources, and trust you all to make a reasonable choice.
"Beyond that I do have one healer's kit ready to use, and would be happy to cover half the cost of another if anyone else has feels they would make good use of it. Beyond that I am currently prepared for a journey of this sort, but if anyone else needs help with the appropriate supplies, or isn't sure what might be needed in this region do ask. I'd rather answer questions about the Narlmarches now from those who don't know them than learn that we aren't prepared for the basics once we get out there."
Having said her piece, the elf leans back to listen to what the others have to say.
Anri will share the info with the group (about the Thorp of Dinstead and the Dawnsglen Lodge), as well as any additional info for rolling a critical success?
Heeding the Marshal's advice not to carouse frivolously, and gathering any silvers the group would like to chip in (she explains she is about 40 silver short), she quickly heads to the marketplace (with anyone else who also wants to go?) to purchase a set of Simple Manacles (3 gold), a set of Healer's Tools (5 gold), and a single Pack Animal (2 gold), and returns just as quickly.
"What should we name this beast?" Anri asks excitedly upon returning! "How about 'Sterkur Hestur'?"
Elinil will chip 20 silver into the pot for the purchase. He will also make a quick trip market himself, although not with Anri and purchase an extra week of rations (4 sp).
Then he will proceed to ignore the Marshall's advice, although not frivolously. Undoubtedly, if Ismort is both recruiting, and selling his loot on the black market, there will be rumours and information about him outside of the official channels...
Elinil will go looking for information, and if he can make a few silver and have a good time while doing it, all the better... He will keep the drinking to a minimum though. Still, he'll be short on sleep tomorrow morning.
1 > Dinstead
2 > Dawnsglen
3 > Dungrir
A slight look of annoyance flashed over Revna's face. It hadn't escaped her notice that the Mershal wasn't answering her question. Revna waited for those who wanted to do other things to leave, then narrowing her eyes she leaned into the table and said very seriously. "You no answer question." Her tone was low but serious. "So, you answer or, I ask Queen. If you no know, that what say. But no lies, you send us to battle. Knowing wrong could kill." Revna told her. Unlike many in a court setting Revna cared nothing for the subtleties of court. Often bashing her way through things like a battering ram if what people say was anything to go by. Which was true in many regards. Revna often called people out for taking too long with paper work, or thinking on what people would say. To her that was weak line of thinking! It was better to be decisive and true than hesitant and false in Revna's mind.
"So... you tell? Or do I ask Queen?"
Brennadara listens to the others form plans, and when Anri departs the elf passes her a pile of coins as her share of the cost to equip the expedition. After that, as things start to quite down Brennadara finds a warm, quiet corner and begins to meditate on the situation she finds herself in.
Her concentration is broken abruptly by Revna's demands of the Marshal. Surprised, her attention is immediately on the two and she smoothly glides to a position behind Revna, wanting to calm her friend, but knowing that she must let the interaction play out. She watches to see how the diminutive leader will react.
Revna belongs out in the wild just like I do. The rules often clearer there. Ah well, this will be a chance to learn something of someone regardless of what happens.
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Dungrir has been around the Stolen Lands for over one hundred years. He had a family more than fifty years ago and his children have all died of old age or other causes. They say he has the blood of celestial beings flowing in his veins and this is the secret of his long life.
You hear that the Queen- before she was even a Baroness- fought a would-be bandit king called the Staglord at a fortress that would eventually become the foundation of Stagfall.
Ismort was a holy champion of Erastil who fell from grace after a personal tragedy. He wandered the Stolen Lands for months before being lured in by the Staglord. He was a chief lieutenant of the Staglord, a charismatic recruiter who had been convinced of the Staglord's mythic status until exposure to the Staglord's drunken excesses dissuaded him of that loyalty.
Kessa Surtova met him at an encampment of the bandits and they spoke briefly about the Staglord's sins. These words stayed with the ex-champion, and when they met again at the Staglord's fort, she convinced him to abandon the bandit king and seek redemption.
You remember hearing rumors that Ismort was smitten with the Queen and his work at the Worldwound was an attempt to prove his worth as a potential consort- and that his current anger is driven by her spurning him as a lover.
Mosswaxer quirks an eyebrow, a look of bemusement on her face as the larger woman leaned over the table. "I've always enjoyed the directness of you Northerners. After being convinced to leave the Staglord's side, Ismort spent two years at the Worldwound, crusading against the forces of Deskari." She peers deep into Revna's eyes, her own eyes sparkling. "That kind of thing changes a man. When the Worldwound was closed, Ismort returned."
She sighs. "The man is damaged. The Staglord took advantage of this damage, twisting a man who was once a holy champion into a common bandit. Kessa saw the conflict in him, and offered him a chance to quit the Staglord, a possibility of absolution. She convinced him to seek redemption with the crusaders. He blames her for whatever he faced there."
"If that answer doesn't meet you're requirements..." she shrugs waving her hand whimsically "..feel free to quit. I won't let my deputies disrespect me in an attempt to embarrass the Queen. I trust this line of questioning was more a curiosity than a demand, and that you'll leave any other questions regarding his motivation for when you get a chance to hear it from him."
'Northerners?' Renva wondered to herself when the Marshal called her that. She had heard it before from some. They said her language was that of the King and he was from the north so that meant she was too no? But Revna was born here, well here as in the River lands. However she let is slide for now. It didn't matter here.
"If em-barras Queen was wish, many easier ways for that." Revna told the Marshal bluntly. "That you bring it up and what you did say, tells all need. You say you won't let us show disrespect, then you show such to me!" Revna pointed out. "Ignore words spoken, every thing said. By me, only me. Great the disrespect, that. Nice was I. I waited, others left. Then asked. Kept voice low, others can't hear. Could have spoken up before all, loud to fill room with. You want respect from me? Earn it back! Because you had... But no more. You ignore, then give half. Would you respect that?" Revna asked, though one got the feel it was rhetorical.
Under her skin, Revna was steaming. How dare she! Revna wouldn't have judged if the Marshal had said this man was once the Queen's lover! But the fact she was so unwilling and was forced to say anything at all greatly upset the Ulfen woman. For it made clear there was no trust, and no respect between them. "Such promise. After battle against slavers. No word, for the dis-app-ointment. Much, I thought of you. But I see when wrong." Revna said somewhat hurt as she stood. Quickly she finished what little was left on her plate, neatly stacked it with the others and laid the cutlery atop it all. "I go with. But not for you." She told Marshal Mosswaxer before she down what remained of her mead and slammed the cup back onto the table. "For the people hurt. I go. To rip out the tainted, root and stem. I go. For those I call friend. I go." Revna locked eyes with her at the end and the rest was implied with the awkward silence. A silence which Revna broke soon enough for those who had remained sake. "See you come morning."
Looking to Brennadara and Kazmukh, those who had remained, she said "We in morning... Need to find uha... Something to... Hit, uha... Punch!" Revna said before she left the Lodge to see if she could get into the Garrison to use the practice area for little while before calling it a night.
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The gnome allowed Revna to vent her steam without interruption. As Revna is about to storm out the door and locks eyes with her, she says "If I ignored your questions, woman, it was because they were both irrelevant to your given task and gossipy in nature. That you both failed to take the clue and then threatened to go above my head to the Queen seems to me you care more about your curiosity than your duty."
She glares, a darker shade to her eyes than before, a deeper fire devoid of sparks. "Go for your friends, go for people being hurt. Those are good reasons. I'm your boss, not your friend. I have the Queen's respect, I don't need yours. Especially if it's so easy to come and go."
Although she is doing a fairly decent job of hiding it, the Marshal was clearly stung by Revna's words. Her pride was wounded by the whole exchange.
"I see you, Gingertusker." Revna stated as she turned around, the large for and the woman framed in what light was behind her. "I know you. You fool others, no me." She said. "If you lie, or ignore, for such that you don't care... What should taken from that?" Revna asked. "Once, could said it not matter. Or that you not know. Those lie though, aren't they? Could have said, not able to say. I would have respect those words, from you. I would no ask more... But you... Ignore... I bleed beside you. I fought, for you.... And you, ignored." Revna said, her voice heavy with hurt. "No respect for those below, no respect for those above. Respect no like river. Respect, go both ways. You drop yours... I dropped mine. Tell me, whose went easily first?" Revna pointed out, it had been Gingertusker who had ignored her that began this. Revna had tried one last time to show some respect but was rebuked again. "You make think, that I would care. I no like people, that claimed I be. Em-barrass Queen... How you think from me...?" Revna shook her head slowly. "You know, know enemy, battle half won. Und-erstan-d... Re-ason... For fight, less blood lost." Revna was struggling with her words now. A mixture of anger, hurt, and lack of proper use of the language was catching up. "But you, say such to me! No even 'nother thought, to why..." Revna eyes glistened from the fire light before her by Gingertusker. It was obvious that the woman was hurt by the fact her Marshal didn't trust or respect her.
Perhaps everyone turned in early? Anri thinks to herself. She had at least expected to see Brennadara up. No matter.
The half-elf stables "Hestur" where it would be appropriate to do so, then pays a quick visit to Revna's quarter, and neatly leaves a curled Bandolier with nested Healer's Tools atop a folded suit of Leather Armor, affixing to it a little note that says "Hérna".
And with that, Anri retires for the night.
"Here"
Kazmukh held his peace during the conversation between the Marshal and Revna.
If you see a wall falling down, you don't run under and try to catch it.
A piece of advice from his mother. As usual, thinking about her made him morose. All in all, a depressing start to the mission.
The dwarf nodded his heads at Revna. "You're right: It will be good to get our hands a little dirty."
At the moment, he cares little for the opinion of the Marshal. The king told him to work with the gnome, so here he is.
It's late when Elinil comes back. He climbs the stairs to his bed, thinking hard about the rumors. He's quick to get under the covers, he'll need all the sleep he can get tomorrow, no doubt.
After the exchange has run its course Brennadara takes the final steps to Revna and puts a hand on her shoulder. "Come, friend, you look like you could use a good sparring match to end this day. I could use the practice as well, so let's make that happen." Turning to the others left in the room Brennadara nods to each in turn. "Marshall, Kazmukh, we'll see you in the morning, ready to head out."
With that the elf turns and leaves the hall, hoping, but not looking to see if Revna follows, heading towards nearest practice yards, readying herself to spend the next while listening and dodging the heavier blows, probably not in that order.
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The morning comes far too soon for some, as the Marshal rises just before sunrise to begin preparations for the journey. She doesn't allow anyone to sleep much more than a half hour after she arises, and within a half hour from that time, you find yourselves on the road, as much gear as reasonable packed onto Sterker to lighten your steps.
The early morning drizzle and fog rising off the lake combine to dull the city noises quickly as you depart, and an almost peaceful quiet settles over the group; insects, birds, and the sounds of your own breathing and steps blend into an almost musical pattern.
Suddenly, the small leader breaks into a soft, breathy song, her voice melodic if a bit too pitchy....
"I skimmed a-cross black wa-ter
With-out once sub-merg-ing
On-to the banks of an ur-ban morn-ing
That hun-gers the first light
Much, much more than...
Moun-tains... e-ver do
For all of you who must dis-co-ver
For all who seek to un-der-stand
For having left the path of o-thers
You'll find a ve-ry special hand
And it is a ho-ly thing
And it is a pre-cious time
And it is the on-ly way
And she, like a ghost be-side me
Goes down with the ease of a dol-phin
And e-mer-ges un-learned, un-shamed, un-harmed
For she is the per-fect crea-ture
Na-tu-ral in ev'-ery fea-ture
And I am the geek with the al-che-mists' stone
For all of you who must dis-co-ver
For all who seek to un-der-stand
For having left the path of o-thers
You'll find a ve-ry special hand
And it is a ho-ly thing
And it is a pre-cious time
And it is the on-ly way
For-get-me-nots a-mong the snow
It's al-ways been, and so it goes
To pon-der his death and his life e-ter-nal-ly
For all of you who must dis-co-ver
For all who seek to un-der-stand
For having left the path of o-thers
You'll find a ve-ry special hand
And it is a ho-ly thing
And it is a pre-cious time
And it is the on-ly way
One bright blue rose out-lives all those
Two thous-and years, and still it goes
To pon-der his death and his life e-ter-nal-ly...
Bright Blue Rose by Mary Black
Over the course of the day, the rain beats harder upon your heads and turns the road to mud. You quickly come to realize the wisdom of skipping the wagonload of gear some may have been considering. You make decent time, and the wet day passes into afternoon as the wood of the Narlmarches looms larger and larger.
Elinil, you stayed up too late and will be fatigued until you get a full 8 hours- you've got 6 out of the 8 you need.
Elinil does not harmonize with the Marshal. Absolutely not.
Kazmukh is a little surprised by the song, but he finds it pleasing.
It's certainly a comforting memory as he trudges through the muck in the the Narlmarshes.
Miserable weather.
Anri rises abruptly, and begins her morning stretches. She likes to keep her muscles loose - doubly so in anticipation of expedition. Body and Mind. Afterwards, she prepares her spells for the day:
Chilling Spray, Shocking Grasp; Longstrider
Then she dons her armor, belt, and backpack, slings "Darkspur" across her back-sheath, and embarks.
...
Later, when the Marshal starts up with the irritating singing (it has never been part of her upbringing nor general disposition...), Anri conceals her displeasure by spanning at times ahead of the group (keeping up with Kazmukh), at times behind the group (checking up on Elinil), exercising vigilance: Not knowing how far these bandits range, nor how expansive their forces, and never wanting to be caught off-guard, nor be dealt the lower hand.
As they close on the Narlmarshes, she draws her longspear. Forests have always held danger.
Brennadara wakes early the next morning as is her habit, and after re-packing the few supplies that need it spends the early morning meditating on the journey to come. When the Marshal signals that it's time to go Brennadara is ready.
As the group sets out Brennadara watches, nodding approval as Kazmukh and Anri take up watchful positions at the outskirts of the party, and keeps a sharp eye out for any dangers or items of interest.
When Gingertucker begins her song, Brennadara listens with half an ear, a slight smile turning up the corner of her mouth as she thinks back to similar songs she heard when exploring with gnome companions in her younger days.
She occasionally takes time to visually check on Revna to see how her friend is holding up now that a journey is underway and she has something more productive to focus on, while also noting without judgement how Elinil's steps seem to drag beyond what would simply be the result of not being a morning person.
Revna wouldn't lie if someone asked how she felt about the fact both Kazmukh and Brennadara agreed and left with her. It made her feel more welcomed and respected among the group as a whole.
She left with them both, putting the Marshal in the back of her mind. It would easily help in her sparring with Brennadara, and Kazmukh if he was so inclined as well.
"No under-stand!" Revna explained to Brennadara as the sparred. "Could been lover for little care! Who would? No they have lover before? Why so diff-Erent? All in, this, court... fool! Care, for wrong thing." She sighed.
When they returned to there rooms Revna was shocked to find things waiting for her. She read the note and smiled to herself. Then she went through the items, familiarizing herself with them. She'd have to thank Anri when she got a chance. She seemed like a necklace type, or so Revna believed.
The next morning Revna was up early. Hunting was best in the early morning so she was use to this. Donned in her new leather armor, and with the new items in, and holding, her pack, she waited for the other downstairs. Though when the Marshal came down Revna only gave her a look that said 'Speak not to me unless you have to'.
When they headed out and the Marshal began to sing, Revna wish she could follow after the other two, Anri and Kazmukh, but two scouting was more than enough. Maybe she would have enjoyed it more if she actually liked the company... She thus kept closer to Brennadara and Elinil. However it was clear that Revna was much happier being out in the wilds and away from that so called city. Even with the rain she breathed in the air joyfully.
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The group makes it into the forest a few hours before the sun would set, the trees offering some shelter from the downpour which has only increased as the afternoon wore on.
Even the Marshal has settled into a quiet routine, and although she does seem to be distracted by a thing or another as you travel, she sticks to the center of the group and on the road, mostly observing her deputies in action.
An hour into the woods, about two before the sunset would loom, Anri and Kazmukh spy some tracks, which Revna gives some idea are fairly fresh (an hour or less old) and seemed to have crossed the road headed for the river. All in all, Revna determines between five and seven sets of tracks.
The tracks belong to brush thylacine.
Though similar in appearance to dogs or wolves, a thylacine is much more slenderly built, with a long, stiff tail, and powerful jaws.
Thylacines typically have between 13 and 21 dark stripes on their backs that stand out from their usually golden-colored pelts.
Bush thylacines are generally larger and more powerful breed of thylacine resides in more wooded environments than its smaller kin.
Thylacines hunt alone or in small packs, slowly wearing down their prey over long chases. They are timid creatures when faced with larger foes and prefer to avoid fights, though when faced with starvation they have been known to take down much larger prey, including humanoids. Most thylacines (excepting the Tian Xia blood cougar) are almost impossible to tame. The creatures lair in small dens in trees or caves.
Bush thylacines are marginally more aggressive than their other cousins.
The oddly-shaped legs of a thylacine are ill-suited to running, but allow the creatures to stand on their haunches for short periods of time, as well as conferring some jumping ability.
Unlike most marsupials, both male and female thylacines have pouches, though the male's is used only to protect its genitals. Females give birth to litters of up to ten joeys, though less than half usually live to adulthood. A thylacine has a lifespan of four to ten years.
While someone more competent analyzes the tracks, Anri continues to keep an eye out, wondering what course of action may best suggest if these tracks would lead to their intended quarry. Her grip around her spear tightens, as the sudden realization of potentially being outnumbered settles in slowly, equal parts self-preservational fear and inexplicable excitement. So it begins...
Brennadara kneels down and glances at the tracks, but with the rain being what it is they seem unremarkable to her. After a cursory examination she stands and addresses the others.
"Unless someone has a reason to think these should be interesting, we're probably best served by ignoring them for now. They're headed towards the river which isn't surprising behavior for an animal in these parts. Our goal still lies to the west, not the south. Certainly we'll keep an eye out for anything that might be dangerous, but that would have been true anyhow."
"Never ignore." Revna told Brennadara, before she looked over the tracks. "It a pack, fi-ve or sev-en of." She added as she stood. "Fresh, if hunt would be good sign. Though Bren true, head for river. Eyes open. Though safe... likely."
Anri has full confidence in her team's ability to study basic tracks.
"So, what is our course of action?"
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The Marshal offers her thoughts. "These are the types of decisions you are likely to face on your journeys. Likely this pack of bush thylacines is the largest group of predators in the immediate are. Just as likely, they are hunting by the river. Bush thylacine rarely attack groups of humanoids whose numbers rival their own, so they likely pose no immediate threat to us. Their pelts are sought after, but their meat is tough and barely edible. Their humors have no medical value. We are a few hours away from needing to camp, well outside of their hunting range."
After a short pause, she presents a couple of likely scenarios "If we track them to hunt them, we likely cut an hour or more out of our daily progress, and therefore would be camping within their territory, unlikely to face any greater predators this evening. We could harvest their pelts for warmth of for trade offerings. If we push on, we are unlikely to encounter them and will be safely outside their territory when we bunk down, although it possible we will be in the territory of some other beast or beasts. Our journey would not be lengthened nor our lives put in danger by a side trek. The pack will continue to live as it does today, unlikely to attack fellow travelers unless their food runs low or some dimwitted clod decides to journey into the woods on their own."