GM Nayr's Fall of Plaguestone

Game Master Nayr Trebrot

Under Construction

You each have your reasons for signing on with this caravan - some ply their trades as messengers, others work to further their causes, and some...well, they just want a new perspective. Either way, you find yourselves here in the last wagon with a chef, the food, and a few other passengers.

The caravan consists of six covered wagons, four of which are laden with supplies, trade goods, and trinkets. It's led by a dwarf trader from the Five Kings Mountains, Bort Bargith. Bort is welcome in many settlements for fiar prices and his gregarious spirit, and has thus been using this route for years. Though there are faster and easier routes south, this one avoids Cheliax, so is most likely the safest.

You started out south by southeast from Elidir, the capital of Isgar, then to Almas, the capital of Andoran, and then followed a road between the Apsodell Mountains and the Five Kings Range.

It has been three days since you left Elidir, climbing into the back of the wagons of the smiling caravan master. Bort cut your travel cost to only a handful of coppers, so long as you promised to protect the wagons should any trouble arise. Fortunately, your journey through the Hinterlands of Isger has been quiet, even if the ride itself has been far from comfortable.

As you broke camp this morning, Bort announced you should arrive at the town of Etran's Folly by nightfall, and he promised a comfortable bed for the night as a reward for a long day's travel. The caravan's teamsters shared a chuckle between them, trading knowing glances and subtle nods, but soon enough you are on the road again, the wagon bouncing and creaking along the uneven trail.

The chef, aptly named Cooky, is and old elven man who only has one ear and is constantly tilting his head to one side or the other to pick up on surrounding conversations. Attached to his wagon - the one you also share - is a large iron pan that can hold hot coals and even burning logs, allowing him to slow cook stew in a pot above, even as the wagon lurches along the trail. He hums to himself as he takes off the lid to give it a quick stir.

Now the obligatory "introduce yourself and your character", so have at it!

Despite all the bumps in the road (literal and figurative), Jacinto was generally a happy camper.

Happy wagoner?

"Have to look that up," Jace said quietly to himself as a verbal reminder. Currently, he was sitting near the rear of the wagon and away from Cooky, shoes off and plucking at his fiddle, trying to figure out the best notes to string together.

Instruments were rather complicated, he had begun to discover in the past couple of years. He started with drums; those were easy, and fun! But they were usually very loud (at least the way Jace played the drums), which bothered people. They also did not play very interesting melodies, which annoyed some other people.

This fiddle, he'd had for three months now. Jace wasn't sure he was a fiddler quite yet, but it was a nice enough instrument. Nothing beat bagpipes, however. There was another instrument that annoyed and bothered people.

"Hey, man," Jace said aloud to the general group. "Any requests?" Everyone who had been traveling with him for a while now was well aware that "man" or "bro" were generic terms that Jace applied to men, women, children, non-binary individuals, humans, elves, goblinoids, fey, and presumably many other species.

You had to wonder if he was bad at remembering names.

There was a large grin across his face as he looked at Cooky and everyone else in the wagon, confident that even if he didn't know it outright, he'd remember something he'd learned from his many years working at the bar ... pub knowledge had never let him down yet!

"Another drink! 'Ats what I shall request!" the halfing slurs, tilting his ale mug precariously toward Jace. "As ye can shee, I'm nearly pa...parchment dry. *hic*." Tolgy's already-full cup splashes the foam of a dark stout onto the wagon's floor. "Oh look!" he exclaims, bracing himself against Cooky, "A barley stew. I love...*hic* barley stew!"

He leans in close, taking extra effort to enunciate his words and locking eyes with Cooky with the intensity of a lover. "'Ave I ever told you. My motha makes the most delicious stew."

"It's the peas," he mumbles urgently, "th' secret's peas. Aha! Dun' tell 'er I told you so!"

The halfling's already-full cup splashes the foam of a dark stout onto the wagon's floor. [/b]

"Waste not, want not, Mr. Stonehand. Careful with the holy water." Jace's tone was not reproachful, but he clearly very honest about making sure none of the liquor went to waste. Having found another dedicated follower of Cayden Cailean had been a welcome surprise.

Jace still wasn't sure about the other folk. It seemed rude to say, "Hey, you've got neat scales, what's your story?" So, he'd remained in the dark so far.

Walking alongside the wagons, the nearly seven foot tall lizard man taps his staff rhythmically, allowing himself to get lost in the cadence of the horses' hooves and creaking axles.

After months of doing nothing but guarding supply trains, it was obvious that the Knights of Lastwall were never going to give him an honest chance at glory. So, at the end of the last supply run, he left, setting out on a boat across Lake Encarthan, eventually arriving in Elidir.

Recalling the months of frustration, he flexes the frills behind his head as an aggressive hiss escapes from between his sharp teeth. Calming himself again takes a few minutes and he finds that he is unable to find the rhythm of the march again and decides to vault back into one of the wagons.

A smaller caravan such as this will surely encounter bandits at the least. Perhaps we'll even find something worthy enough to hone my skills on.

Sampling the taste of the air with his long tongue, he looks over the rest of the passengers, unsure of how to guague their abilities. Impassively, he returns his gaze to the woods around them, looking for any signs of danger.

Tolgy stares dull-eyed at the mess, slowly raising his bleary eyes to meet Jace. He grins crookedly. "Waste? Nay, 't ain't to waste, sir! Tis a baptism of the wagon, and of... *hic* of our blessed chef, patron saint of peas 'n potatoes!"

The conversation between the Caydenites drawing him in, Kuntaxl eyes the halfling for an uncomfortable time, finally flaring his nostrils and turning his gaze to the human.

Hardly more than a mouthful and drunk besides. Will he be able to fight when the time comes?

For perhaps only the second time so far on this trip, Kuntaxl speaks. "Thisss Andoren we travel to. Kuntaxl hears of their Knightsss of the Eagle. Perhaps a tale of glorious battle? Kuntaxl would know of these people before we arrive."

Without blinking, and showing little expression, he watches the bard and waits.

Tolgy stares dull-eyed at the mess, slowly raising his bleary eyes to meet Jace. He grins crookedly. "Waste? Nay, 't ain't to waste, sir! Tis a baptism of the wagon, and of... *hic* of our blessed chef, patron saint of peas 'n potatoes!"

"Ohhh." Jace's mouth was a wide O. "Blessings are very nice. That is thoughtful of you, to help Cooky like that."

For perhaps only the second time so far on this trip, Kuntaxl speaks. "Thisss Andoren we travel to. Kuntaxl hears of their Knightsss of the Eagle. Perhaps a tale of glorious battle? Kuntaxl would know of these people before we arrive."

Without blinking, and showing little expression, he watches the bard and waits.

His mouth still in the shape of a vowel, Jace turned and looked at the unblinking eyes of the seven-foot-tall lizardfolk. "Oh. Uh, yes, Mr. Kuntaxl," he says, stumbling over the name before rallying to get it out of his mouth mostly unscathed. "Andoran is a glorious country of freedom! A favorite of Caydenites everywhere."

He pauses, stroking his chin with one hand, no longer dabbling with the fiddle. "A tale of the Eagle Knights, you say? Glorious battle? I'm sure I know of one. I worked in a bar a lot; heard plenty of stories."

To our GM:
I don't believe Jace has any skills that would give him knowledge of Andoran or its battles. He'd need to use Bardic Lore. If he fails his check, Dubious Knowledge would trigger.

Gotcha; let me know when you want to recall something, and I'll roll it for you and give you the info;) In this case, you do know that the Eagle Knights are champions of humanity, and they fight against tyranny and injustice. You're also pretty sure they have a branch called the Steel Falcons that flies into battle upon great, mechanical beasts!

Exploration mode actions

So, you guys are currently in exploration mode, please clarify what action you'll be using while in this action. If none apply, you'd just be talking, though some may be scouting.

Cooky's head lolls from side to side as he listens to the conversation around him. The old elf notes the spilt spirits, and swats at Tolgy with a sloppy spoon, splashing stew on the creaking boards of the wagon floor. Watch the drink, Stonehand! A slippy floor could break the back of an old chef!

There are others among the wagons that you've met, though they're currently in their own respective wagons. There's Glunda Grapeleaf, a female gnome teamster, Olf and Ulf, the two young human teamsters - twins, and Tamli Grent, the female half-orc chief of the caravan. She seems to be Bort's right hand woman, and she is often stern with people, but very good with the animals.

Glancing up to the noisy ones, the fierce looking creature frowns. Slowly shutting his weathered book and sliding it into his pack, he eyes each speaker in turn.

His all too narrow eyes seem to bore a hole through the bard before he speaks. "You seem preoccupied with knowledge. That is a commendable thing, though perhaps you should worry more about the written word and less about the spoken word. Those words spoken tend to be less factual and more nuanced, as it were."

While his asymmetrical appearance may lean one to judge him harshly, his tone is surprisingly matter-of-fact.

Taking in the full sized lizardfolk, he nods. "While it does seem we all have our specialties, I would hope this task doesn't put us to the test. If it does, I'll be doing my best to stay behind you. I didn't survive this long to die in a wagon train"

Gathering up his pack, vials within clattering, he nods to the group. "Since we've been charged with protection detail, I'll take a quick look ahead."

Without another word, he hops down from the wagon and heads towards the front.

I would like to use "Stealth" for exploration mode

Not sure any of the actions really apply. Scouting would be my choice, but moving at half speed while on my feet doesn't make much sense while in a wagon caravan. The whole caravan would have to slow to 10ft overland speed.

Kuntaxl turns his gaze to the strange hobgoblin. "Books rot in the swamp, while the stories of our ancestors stay fresh as long as we repeat them often."

Wrapping his tail around his legs as he squats on the floor of the wagon, he once again starts scanning the woods.

Not sure any of the actions really apply. Scouting would be my choice, but moving at half speed while on my feet doesn't make much sense while in a wagon caravan. The whole caravan would have to slow to 10ft overland speed.

You could use "Perception" to "Seek" as your exploration activity. In that case, Perception would be used for your initiative roll I believe

Yup, that works. I think there's also one for "Talking" as an action that uses diplomacy for initiative, but I couldn't find it on the site. That may be a homebrew.

Isn't Perception the default initiative roll?

I believe it is Kuntaxl. There are other options though if you'd prefer and their are feats to add bonuses to initiative rolls based off exploration

Also not sure on the movement limitation, but Tolgy's best bet for exploration activity looks to be detect magic.

Watch the drink, Stonehand! A slippy floor could break the back of an old chef!

"Oh I am watchin' it, sir. As the good book says, observation is... is the keystone of wishdom!"

"You seem preoccupied with knowledge. That is a commendable thing, though perhaps you should worry more about the written word and less about the spoken word."

"Nuktik is right, Jace. Enough... *hic* about reading. There'll be time 'nough for that when we reach the Folly. Now's th' time fer... erm, for celebrating! I propose a toast! To new fellows, and untraveled roads, and.... hey, where's... *hic* Niktik going?"

Tolgy peers out into the landscape. "Sweet barleybrew, is that a harpie? Aha, nay, 'twas only pigeon." He slumps into his seat, humming softly.

Kuntaxl turns his gaze to the strange hobgoblin. "Books rot in the swamp, while the stories of our ancestors stay fresh as long as we repeat them often."

"Well said, Mr. Kuntaxl! I agree. I don't have anything against books, of course," he says in deference to the hobgoblin, before the man hops out of the wagon. "But some knowledge you just have to share this way."

"Now then, a story. Well, I do know that the Eagle Knights fight against injustice and tyranny wherever they go. They are against slavery. I dislike it, too -- so that's pretty great of them. I know that they have different branches, like any military, Mr. Kuntaxl. The mighty Golden Legionnaires fight to defend their homeland against evil! They have had many skirmishes with Cheliax -- that's who used to rule Andoran, I'm sure you may have heard. The Andoren people finally broke free about 50 or so years ago."

"But the Steel Falcons are the real interesting ones. They swoop into battle among their mighty metallic hawks, to mete out punishment to bad guys no matter where they are!" Jace tries to remember if he's ever seen a flying steel falcon mount. No, but it must be very impressive!

"Nuktik is right, Jace. Enough... *hic* about reading. There'll be time 'nough for that when we reach the Folly. Now's th' time fer... erm, for celebrating! I propose a toast! To new fellows, and untraveled roads, and.... hey, where's... *hic* Niktik going?"

"Toast?" Jace fumbles for his mug, then begins to look around for the nearest source of what he considered his holy water - liquor. He would never miss out in participating in a toast. Certainly not by a man who was a likely cleric of Cayden!

Jacinto is merely talking, and not using Seek or any other proper sentry behaviors at the moment. However, he's no longer playing his fiddle, so there's less audio distraction.

Kuntaxl listens to the information impassively, nodding in thanks when Jace is finished. "Kuntaxl expected more... poetry."

Slavery and Cheliax are bad, according to Andoren. This is useful information. Organization names are important. The bard is useful, even if his stories lack flair.

Flaring his nose at the ale, Kuntaxl declines the offer. "This beverage does not have enough spider venom to be intoxicating. Kuntaxl says No, thank you."

With no further preamble, Kuntaxl jumps off to the side of the wagon and begins walking again.

Kuntaxl listens to the information impassively, nodding in thanks when Jace is finished. "Kuntaxl expected more... poetry."

Jacinto looks at Tolgy. "Poetry? Like ... I thought he wanted a story, bro. I'm not usually good at limericks."

"Let me see ... oh, I remember one that was popular at the pub!

A gorgeous young bard from Qadira /
Could make men's gold fast disappear-a /
Sleight of hand was her trade /
And your purse she'd invade /
With the gold soon stored safe up her --"

The barkeep frowned. "I forgot the end."

Buahaha! Cooky spits out some stew he'd been sampling, having thoroughly enjoyed the song. He may only have one ear, but he could spin his head to take full advantage of it, and he didn't miss much. AFter Jace was finished, the old cook continued to hum the verse over again, chuckling every now and again.

With Nuktik and Kuntaxl both scouting near the wagons, one of the twins comes rushing out, a grin on his face. You've noticed that the twins take great enjoyment out of being able to fool others in the van as to which one is which. They'll often change their clothes during the day to mix up those who try to identify them. This one - either Olf or Ulf, waves down the more monstrous members of the van.

Hey, you guys out looking for danger? Cool! Think we'll find any?

Kuntaxl's lips twitch, baring a toothy grin that might be happiness or eagerness. It is a discomforting expression.

"If Apsu favors us, glorious victory will be ours. If not today, then certainly another day.

Will you join in the fighting when the time comes?"

The young man seems to lean a bit back as he takes in Kuntaxl's visage. He moves toward the Champion with a bit more trepidation, his own smile seeming to falter a bit, then return.

Me? Well, sure! I don't keep this big blade at my side for nothing! He pats a knife that looks good for little more than skinning rabbits.

Say, that Apsu of yours...any, you know...people worship him? He seems to imply that he himself, is people. But perhaps Kuntaxl is not.

Kuntaxl eyes the knife, and the man. "Each must measure his own worth, and face battle knowing that today may be the day he is judged. Kuntaxl hopes to reach that day bathed in glory and the blood of his enemies." With a firm nod, he adds, "Kuntaxl wishes swiftness to your blade this day."

(Note: a congregation is a group of alligators... sounds close to what a lizardfolk looks like. Who thinks up these name anyways?)

In response to the question about Apsu, he softens his tone, somewhat.
"Softskins concern themselves with odd things. Kuntaxl imagines that some must remember the part Apsu played in imprisoning the Rough Beast and venerate him accordingly.

Apsu himself focuses solely on the coming battle with the Evil Dragons and outreach is not something he concerns himself with. Among the Iruxi, few worship him. Kuntaxl believes goodly dragons and other draconic races are his primary followers."

Ha!

Looking down at his blade, the twin nods. Blood and glory...yeah, I hear that! Thanks 'axl. Swift I'll be then!

He seems not to follow the theological ponderings, but his eyes light up at the thought of dragons battling. He looks up to the sky with a faraway look, no doubt envisioning such battles occurring way up there.

A call comes from closer to the front of the wagon, and Tamli Grent's shout was like the crack of a whip. Olf, get back ta' work, ya' slouch! Leave Kuntaxl to his guardin' yer skin.

Hey, I'm Ulf, not Olf!

Whatever...get back to work!

Olf...or Ulf, offers a wink to Kuntaxl, then jogs back to one of the wagons for his orders.

Feel free to keep up the banter; we'll move on after OSW comes in with hobbie2

Jace pokes his head out of whichever side of the wagon most easily allows him to speak to Kuntaxl. "I would be interested to learn more about Apsu, if you are willing to share your insights, Mr. Kuntaxl. It's nice to meet people of other faiths -- the one thing you always share is that you're devout. I myself follow Cayden Cailean, but I wouldn't say I'm as dedicated to that task as Tolgy."

Jacinto takes a sip of his newly found liquor, from one of the two worn but well-made mugs he has on him regularly. He thanks Tolgy for pointing out where it was, in the way Caydenites do.

Turning back to Kuntaxl, he says, "I'm ready to fight if we need to. I may just be a barkeep, but I've been in plenty of scrapes as a result." He draws a rapier from his sheath and slices up an invisible enemy, in a way that offers a bit too much flourish, but also demonstrates that he is sufficiently skilled in using the agile weapon.

Without looking around, Kuntaxl speaks, with a sound of recitation. "In the dawn of time, the Great Dragons Apsu and Tiamat mated and produced many offspring.

Since then, Apsu has sought to complete his vengeance. One day, the battle will resume. A War of Dragons."

Now, he looks around. "In Apsu's example, Kuntaxl seeks to make himself a better warrior, so if the war comes he is prepared to lend assistance to the forces of good. Kuntaxl will protect his family and stop at nothing to mete vengeance upon any who harm them."

Without looking around, Kuntaxl speaks, with a sound of recitation. "In the dawn of time, the Great Dragons Apsu and Tiamat mated and produced many offspring.

The eldest, Dahak was corrupted during a foray into Hell, and returned to slay all the others, casting their bodies down onto Golarion, where they became goodly dragons.

Apsu descended to battle Dahak. On the brink of being slain, Dahak called out to Tiamat, who saved him and created the evil dragons to battle those goodly dragons who had battled with Apsu.

Since then, Apsu has sought to complete his vengeance. One day, the battle will resume. A War of Dragons."

Now, he looks around. "In Apsu's example, Kuntaxl seeks to make himself a better warrior, so if the war comes he is prepared to lend assistance to the forces of good. Kuntaxl will protect his family and stop at nothing to mete vengeance upon any who harm them."

Jace looked impressed. "Wow ... Apsu really had a great influence on you. It is a rare person who will put life and limb on the line to fight for good. It's even more rare when that is not a popular viewpoint amongst your people."

Jace paused, thinking introspectively for a moment. "It's easy for most humans -- we can often be whatever we want, no harm done. In certain countries, sure, it's harder. You can't exactly be a paladin in Cheliax or a necromancer in Lastw--" Jace sighed. "I guess all they have in Lastwall now is death."

Jace looks back at Kuntaxl. "Can you imagine how horrible Apsu must have felt, to have his mate Tiamat side with evil against him? But ... I can imagine why a mother would want to help her son. That's only natural. Still ... what a tragic tale."

"Mother? This word seems to mean more amongst you softskins. Kuntaxl hears the word spoken almost as invoking a god. Why is this?"

"Mother? This word seems to mean more amongst you softskins. Kuntaxl hears the word spoken almost as invoking a god. Why is this?"

"Your mother is the one who gave birth to you, and who raised you. I am not the best person to ask, I suppose, because I can't give birth myself. But most humans -- and a few other races as well, like elves for instance -- have a strong connection to their mothers. Fathers too, sometimes, but ... well, it's different. Sometimes, fathers go away. Mothers, less often so." Jace seems slightly wistful when discussing mothers, as he thinks of his own deceased mom.

He pauses. "Is it different with your people, Kuntaxl?"

"Iruxi lay eggs in a communal nest. All Iruxi protect and care for the eggs and children."

He looks thoughtful for a moment. "Having only one, or maybe two caretakers... that seems strange, perhaps inefficient."

He considers the thought for a time.

"Iruxi lay eggs in a communal nest. All Iruxi protect and care for the eggs and children."

He looks thoughtful for a moment. "Having only one, or maybe two caretakers... that seems strange, perhaps inefficient."

He considers the thought for a time.

Jace tries to explain. "With humans ... well, it's hard to get eighty-five different people to care for the well-being of one child. And we don't usually have a large number of children at once, so ... I don't know. We school our young communally. We have daycares and nurseries ... but those usually involve payment for services."

"Taldor has a saying -- 'every man for himself'. It isn't always true ... but it is often true. Your way certainly sounds more efficient, like a community. I do think there's something nice about always having your own individual parents to rely on, to know they care about you more than other people do. But it is a great loss when a child loses his parents."

A pause. "Still ... surely some Iruxi enjoy the task of caring for children more than others?"

" But it is a great loss when a child loses his parents."

"That would follow. Losing one of two... parents... would be like losing half the congregation. A great loss, indeed. The pressure on a parent called to battle, or trying to learn a new skill must be immense."

A pause. "Still ... surely some Iruxi enjoy the task of caring for children more than others?"

Kuntaxl nods, thinking they have made a breakthrough. "Yes, each one finds their own place in the congregation, according to their skills and desires.

Is this how you became a teller of histories?"

Jacinto "Jace" Cailean wrote:

" But it is a great loss when a child loses his parents."

"That would follow. Losing one of two... parents... would be like losing half the congregation. A great loss, indeed. The pressure on a parent called to battle, or trying to learn a new skill must be immense."

"Yes. Sometimes, more than the sole remaining parent can handle. But humans are ... a pretty resilient bunch. Most single parents do an amazing job, despite it all." Jace sighs quietly. "When you lose both parents, however, you have to find another ... congregation that is willing to accept you. That is difficult for a child to do."

Jacinto "Jace" Cailean wrote:

A pause. "Still ... surely some Iruxi enjoy the task of caring for children more than others?"

Kuntaxl nods, thinking they have made a breakthrough. "Yes, each one finds their own place in the congregation, according to their skills and desires.

Is this how you became a teller of histories?"

Jace responds earnestly, "Aw, I'm not much of a historian. I pick up information like a sponge, Ma Candace always says -- she's one of the people who ran the orphanage I grew up in. I used to work at the local pub they owned, and you know, I really do love hearing stories. I guess I pick up stuff from that, and from whatever books I can get my hands on. But I love oral histories and learning the best."

"But the obvious question here, do YOU enjoy raising and protecting the eggs and children, Mr. Kuntaxl?"

"But the obvious question here, do YOU enjoy raising and protecting the eggs and children, Mr. Kuntaxl?"[/b]

Kuntaxl looks away, clearly uncomfortable. "Of course. What could be better than protecting your family?" Then, a little too quickly, "Young Iruxi often go off by themselves for a time. Finding Gozreh we call it."

Kuntaxl looks away, clearly uncomfortable. "Of course. What could be better than protecting your family?" Then, a little too quickly, "Young Iruxi often go off by themselves for a time. Finding Gozreh we call it."

"There's an awful lot about the Iruxi that we don't know, which is a real shame. I'm glad you are traveling with us, Mr. Kuntaxl. Hopefully you learn some valuable stuff about humans and halflings and hobgoblins, too!"

This is a superbly fascinating conversation; well done guys!

The caravan rolls on, albeit slowly, the wagons rocking back and forth. The motion may be comfortable to some, but to most it probably wanted them to vomit. It still does nothing to change the demeanor of the smiling caravan master, Bort Bargith, as the dwarf stumps over towards the human and lizardman.

Hallo mister Jace, and mister Kuntaxl! Glad to see you out scouting to keep us safe. He caresses his prodigious beard lovingly as he speaks, and seems to have the habit of always having food in the other hand. That food, now, is some long strings of jerky, which he offers out as he chews.

Did ya' find anything out here that we should be worried about?

"All Clear, Caravan Master. Kuntaxl will move forward now."

Unless stopped, Kuntaxl will salute and start running to get in front of the caravan, searching for signs of danger ahead.

"Oh, I haven't seen anything, Mr. Bargith, sir." He accepts a piece of jerky and begins to chew as well. "I'll keep a better eye out, but Mr. Kuntaxl and also Mr. Nuktik have been watching carefully."

Jace makes a point of scanning out the back of his wagon more dedicatedly.

Jacinto will occasionally use Seek to scan the area behind the wagon.

Slipping out of the brush along the road, Nuktik growls "Didn't hear nor see anything either, cept these two chatting."

With a shake of his head, he adds "What good are following the gods when they do nothing for you? With enough knowledge, one can do anything a god could do and solve their own problems with their own merit."

Slipping out of the brush along the road, Nuktik growls "Didn't hear nor see anything either, cept these two chatting."

With a shake of his head, he adds "What good are following the gods when they do nothing for you? With enough knowledge, one can do anything a god could do and solve their own problems with their own merit."

Jacinto seems perplexed by the question. "I mean ... as a child, I couldn't raise myself. Cayden's grace helped make sure that I didn't die as an orphan. He put me and my new ma and pa together, made them care enough to run an orphanage, and his example put me on a good path. The rest is up to me, I think even he'd agree." Jace shakes his head, smiling. "I certainly couldn't have done that all on my own, Mr. Nuktik."

"How did Cayden connect you with your adopted parental units? How did He cause them to create an orphanage?" presses the hobgoblin.

"My assessment is you stumbled upon two caring individuals and they took it upon themselves to raise you. They weren't forced by a higher power. They were just decent...humans?...creatures that filled a need in your life."

"The gods do their fair share of meddling, but I suspect they don't concern themselves with one orphan child."

Pausing a moment, he shrugs "I'm not saying you're wrong to believe or care. I'm just saying, creatures in this plane are decent, good, evil, or a mixture of all the above on their own. They don't need any higher power for anything other than an excuse to act as they already desired."

"How did Cayden connect you with your adopted parental units? How did He cause them to create an orphanage?" presses the hobgoblin.

"My assessment is you stumbled upon two caring individuals and they took it upon themselves to raise you. They weren't forced by a higher power. They were just decent...humans?...creatures that filled a need in your life."

"The gods do their fair share of meddling, but I suspect they don't concern themselves with one orphan child."

Pausing a moment, he shrugs "I'm not saying you're wrong to believe or care. I'm just saying, creatures in this plane are decent, good, evil, or a mixture of all the above on their own. They don't need any higher power for anything other than an excuse to act as they already desired."

"I can challenge you to prove your side the same way, sir. What is it that makes a person be good, or care about someone else? They don't have to. You can get along just fine in this world without trying to help other people. It's a lonely existence, sort of a pathetic one ... but many people choose that path every day. It's not in your blood, or in your guts. Something else is responsible. Why do people have a conscience? Is it just because they choose to? Why then, do other people simply choose to be evil incarnate?"

Jace shakes his head. "You'd never be able to convince me that these things don't have a touch of divinity in them."

Bort laughs at that. Gods, indeed! Why, have I ever told you about the time I met the Lady of Graves herself? He pauses for a moment, but doesn't seem to be actually looking for a reply.

One day, when crossin' the waters of Lake Encarthan, my boat was set upon by a mighty storm, and we capsized! As the sea took, me I grabbed hold of one of my lock boxes before I slid beneath the waves. I dunno why...reflex I guess...but I was lucky I did!

I awoke there in front of Pharasma, ready to be judged. But...the poor lady of death couldn't decide my fate 'cause the wicked storm was tusslin' her hair all about! It was a tangled mess; so, not wanting to be inconsiderate, I fished through my lockbox and found a silver comb. I gave it to the Lady, and she used it to tame her hair.

He leans in close, as if telling a secret, and his grin takes up his whole face. Why, wouldn't you know it - she was so impressed by the gift, she returned me and my whole crew to the shores of the lake, alive and well! Now...that's what the gods can do for you my friend - pull you up from a burial at sea!

With a nod to Bort, Nuktik smiles. "While it makes a good story, oxygen deprivation can cause one to see all kinds of things."

"Jace, I would argue the goals one has are shaped by their life experiences. Those goals are what cause them to be 'good, evil,' or any variation of the two."

With a wide smile, he adds "However, you are correct. Your experiences have shaped you to believe as you do. Likewise, mine have proven to me the accuracy of my words. I will not count it a failing of yours to believe you are incapable of making it in this world without help from above. Likewise, I request you don't judge me for believing I need only my wits."

Bort smiles and nods, then seems to think about what Nuktik said, and harumphs. Ah...well, keep at it then, gents. We're not long out, and then it'll be fine food and featherbeds for a bit!

You can hear snickering from near the wagon - Olf...or Ulf...at that.

"Jace, I would argue the goals one has are shaped by their life experiences. Those goals are what cause them to be 'good, evil,' or any variation of the two."

With a wide smile, he adds "However, you are correct. Your experiences have shaped you to believe as you do. Likewise, mine have proven to me the accuracy of my words. I will not count it a failing of yours to believe you are incapable of making it in this world without help from above. Likewise, I request you don't judge me for believing I need only my wits."

"Judge? Naw, not me, bro. I'd take up sword to fight for your right to believe as you want -- 'cause that's what Cayden would do." He winks.

"Besides, there's an old saying I've heard at the pub: in a dungeon, anyone can suddenly find religion. So there's still hope for you yet!" He chuckles, obviously not meaning that to be taken seriously.

"Cooky has provided fine food, but an actual bed would be a dream right now..."

Vorak was lost. And for a scout, that was...embarrassing. Flenser knew where he was, which was...not surprising. Vorak’s squad was gone. Dead to the last, and the last was Aurumvorak. Secret emissary, and secret coward. At the first sign of battle, he’d scarpered, and Flenser had followed, unknowing. Now, Vorak felt Flenser’s eyes, accusing, as if the wolf knew his betrayal.

Vorak liked the saying “silver linings”. He didn’t fully understand the analogy, but it meant he was alive, and his squad, who he for the most part detested, were not. Silver lining. Now this caravan seemed to be another. He’d been tailing it for a while. An impressive lizardfolk seemed to be the main caravan guard. Hopefully he was...friendly. Sending Flenser away for the moment, Vorak sauntered toward the scalykind.

”Ho! Well met. Is this the caravan?” he called out in Common, doing his best to seem like he knew what he was talking about...

Apologies all, misread/misunderstood GM’s “started us early” comment. And apologies for the slight twist to the start, but it feels thematic with missing the start...