Arren, who had been somewhat lost in her own thoughts perked up at Hank's words. "Cleaning? I might not have really been pulling my weight, in fact Nempura had to pull me up, but I can clean. My magic is good at that." Seemingly delighted at having something that she can actually accomplish, she casts prestidigitation, with an intent to clean the objects that they had collected. Not only that, but she puts some effort into cleaning up the leather parts of whatever they had collected, using the tools she usually kept wrapped up neatly, taking 10 for a 17.
Perhaps it is the work, or utilizing the magic that she sees as a curse in a constructive way, but this is perhaps the happiest you've seen Arren, scrubbing blood and dirt from looted clothes and weapons, with her familiar resting peacefully on her head.
"A fine name for a temple of Behron." Helgar said. Turning to Arren, she continued "And I can mend the clothes with my prayers. If we work together, I'm sure that we can get it done in no time."
Merion has been riding quietly, contemplating the events at the bridge. He carries a sword, but that has always been a status marker--he's relied on his other talents to get him out of trouble. That was his first fight.
When he sees a good opportunity, he rides up to Ewan, and asks the swordsman Will you give me some lessons, when we reach a resting place? I clearly need to know how to use my sword better, if this is the sort of situation we'll be dealing with.
"It's settled then. You lot clean and mend these items while here in the back of the wagon. Then we'll hopefully get top gold out of these. From there, we can pick up some things we may or may not need. I wouldn't mind some crisps and maybe some chocolate. Hmm..." she hums in thought. "I'll continue to keep a look out. Listen for my shout to know if we get into further trouble."
With that, she would head toward the toll booth.
Nodding as Hank explains the convivences of the small town, Ivar looks to his companions to see what they think. He turns to Arren as she talks about cleaning to help pull her weight. Shaking his head, "Your value is not only in fighting, der vill be t'ings you can do det I cannot."
Raising an eyebrow as Helgar named the god of the temple, he had heard oof Begron, but knew little more than that. As Merion and Ewan talked about sword lessons, Ivar turned to Nempura as she described te plan, Clicking his tongue at the paired horses, Ivar turns the wagon towards the toll gate and gets his two pennies ready to pay his and Helgar's toll.
As the caravan gets closer the toll booth, you see that the individual wagons and walkers begin to space out into groups of those who are paying together. As it is the party’s turn, a man walks out. From the looks of it, he isn’t exactly a trained guard. Padded armor and a polearm.
Calling out; “Before entering Wellswood, you must pay the toll. It’s a bit for each person coming in, a penny for each horse, and a crown per wagon. Doesn’t matter if it is loaded with goods or air. Crown regardless.” He begins trying to do a mental count of who all is together.
If asked, the guard at the booth will tell you that the Traveler’s Rest is #8, the Boot & Wheel is #6, and the Footsore Wanderer is #2.
Once the group is through, Hank walks up; “I have some goods to deliver and in the morning I will be loaded up and ready to go at first light. We will meet here and continue south.” With that he begins to lead his wagon deeper into the town.
Helgar paid her toll, certain that their loot had already earned them a profit. She idly wondered how much each life they had taken had been worth…but regardless, she did not see much to do in the small town. Besides of course for a cold drink, a hot meal and a warm bed.
A decent, but not overly nice smile is on Nempura's face at the gate. She is tired, and thankfully, Ivar's words have convinced her not to sing for money tonight. However, the smile still holds. She produces payment in an exact amount, and when the footman doesn't require extra, she happily waits there for the wagons to pass and then will carry on. While there, she would ask him various questions about the best location for selling goods, if they have problems with bandits, if they have heard of a stronghold in the hills to the north, if he knows the best place to get a drink.
When finished with passing through, she will take up position riding the flank side of the caravan as they get into the city.
"We'll be here at first light. Are we watching the goods overnight, or are we storing them in a safe warehouse for the evening?"
Paying the 'bit' for entering the gate, Ivar nods to the man collecting the money, no reason not to be polite. As Hank announces he had goods to deliver, Ivar turns towards Nempura to see what the plan is. When she asks if they are 'watching the goods overnight', Ivar waives at her, volunteering. "I vill sleep vit der vagon, und keep an ear out." He smiles a little, "It vill save me der cost of staying at der inn."
Once the group gets moving again, he follows Nempura driving the wagon wherever they are taking them. With the intention of getting a bite to eat then returning to the wagon to help finish cleaning the equipment they acquired.
"Well, that works for our wagon, but we are being paid to watch all of these, so we need to be attentive to them all, unless..." she gestures vaguely toward her question to Hank, "...a warehouse."
Before heading off for the night Hank assures the group; “You don’t need to worry about the goods. They will be in a gated and guarded area at The Footsore Wanderer. Rest up and enjoy what little bit of the evening you have.”
Though it is getting late, you do still hear the noise of people enjoying their evening at the few watering holes you walk past. All of you have been in towns long enough to know that Tuomi’s Outfitters wouldn’t be open at this time of evening, but would be open in the morning.
If asked, you find out a few things about the taverns and inns in Wellswood.
The Footsore Wanderer - #2
This extensive walled compound offers excellent security for visiting merchants and its grounds can accommodate all but the largest caravans. Great food and rooms.
The Boot & Wheel - #6
This smallish inn is booming with music. Good food. They offer plots of land to pitch a tent for the evening, but also have lodges that can comfortably sleep 6 people.
The Angry Badger - #7
This local watering hole serves cheap, plentiful drinks and basic, but filling, food. A wide range of entertainment is offered to satisfy all its patrons needs. No overnight rooms.
Traveller’s Rest - #8
This temple of Behron offers its floors to weary travelers. Though a night’s stay here is free, there is typically an ask for a donation to the temple or help with the shrine’s maintenance and upkeep.
After some consideration, Helgar went to the Angry Badger for some hot food and cold drink, and from there to the Traveller's Rest. She had her sleeping kit, and after the amount of blood that she had shed, she decided that the best rest she could hope for was in a house of a God. At the very least, it would be nice to put her clerical skills to use, and to increase the good-will between the respective faiths. Doing it this way would mean the best of all words. Some much needed physical rest and relaxation, followed by spiritual R&R.
Merion will follow Ewan's lead, hoping to get some swordsmanship lessons in. Until then, he takes a walk around the town, letting Robin go be a bird but telling him to return in the case of any danger.
It's his first time out of the city, and he is starting to feel freer, but that feeling makes him uneasy. Still, he'd like to see what the locals do in a town like this, and uses his Face in the Crowd power to blend in as he walks, listening to the talk among the townsfolk.
It is clear from Nempura that she is tired, but given that they have a safe compound for the horse she was riding, as well as the caravan, she will relax. Her rump is far too sore to go to sleep anyway, and walking it off, getting an ale, and listening to music seems to be a preferred path for her to take.
She will gladly head to the Boot and Wheel for drinks and the chance to tell their tales. Not only on the ship, but a harrowing tale of fighting bandits and their lying trickery. She will leave out the details or the fact this was recent, but the audience will clearly know that her and her companions were heroes in their triumph and made bandits flee like cowards.
After her beautiful singing, she would take in some drinks (not too many) while trying to learn the troubles in the region through rumor. If there are valiant quests she can help with, troubles in their town, or troubles on the road ahead for the caravan, it would be good for her to know. When she is sufficiently tired, but gay in heart, then Nempura will quickly head to bed back at the Footsore Wanderer.
Arren goes with the goods, continuing to work on repairs and polishing. Throwing herself whole-heartedly into her work, it isn't until well into the evening that she realizes that everyone else has moved to find a place to spend the evening.
Hope is not particularly inherently knowledgeable about the local taverns. Unsurprising for a scorpion that spends a good part of it's time as a tattoo, but sometimes it surprises her with what it intuits.
Hmmm. It could be dangerous to move around after dark. I wonder where Ewan got off to.
Cautiously, Arren sets off into the town, looking for either a nice place to stay the night, a friendly face, or who knows what?
Driving the wagon to the Footsore Wanderer Ivar left long enough to get a bite to eat with Helgar at the Angry Badger. As Helgar headed off to the temple, Ivar returned to the wagon to help finish cleaning off the gear they were going to sell in the morning.
-----------------
As they finished up, Ivar noticed Arren was heading off. Leaving his pack, shield and bardiche in the wagon, he trotted after her calling out. "Arren, vhere are you headed?"
"Hm? Oh Ivar!" She smiles. "I was just finishing up for the evening, got a little too wrapped up in my work. Honestly, I've got no idea where I'm going, I thought maybe I'd try and find a place to sleep that wasn't so... upscale, or maybe try to find someone else. But you seem to have found me! Where were you headed?"
Shaking his head, Ivar points back to the wagon. "I vas eventually going to sleep in der vagon." He points the general direction of the Traveler's Rest. "Helgar vas going to sleep in der temple." Then nodding the direction Nempura had headed, "Und Nempura said she vas on her vay to der Boot und Vheel." He looks down, resisting the urge to shuffle his feet. "I just didn't know if you felt comfortable valking about a strange city alone und thought I vould offer to accompany you."
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Ewan looks surprised, but delighted that Merion asks him about sword lessons.
"Of c-course. I w-w-would be h-happy to t-teach you. T-though I am s-still a n-novice myself, I h-have f-fought in s-several b-b-battles. W-when we find a s-suit-able open s-space in t-town. Per-haps w-we c-could make t-this a mu-tu-al a-gree-ment? It has b-been quite some t-time s-since I've st-stu-died arcane runes. I'd like to p-pick that up a-gain."
On his own, Ewan would probably stay at the Traveller's Rest, as it reminds him the most of coming home after a long voyage. Taking a rest at the temple, thankful for having survived another journey and then paying homage to the gods that made it possible.
Though now Ewan is walking together with Merion, he feels that the wizard might want for more entertainment than simple diligent work.
Ewan would suggest the Boot and Wheel for good food and music, perhaps able to get a few fencing lessons in on a plot or two on which there is place for a tent.
After you help Hank and the rest of the caravan safely to the Footsore Wanderer, he again reminds you to meet up with him here in the morning.
Walking around the streets at night in a smaller town like Wellswood might seem odd compared to the capital city of Languard. No one is bumping into you. There isn’t the constant thought in the back of your head that is paying attention to your coin purse or any other valuables… Come to think of it, you actually feel safe walking alone out here But, you might think to yourself, the toll probably keeps the more seedy crowd away from Wellswood.
The people you do pass on the streets are nice enough. An evening or how do you do is received with a smile and a nod.
This is the first establishment that you would have come across from interring the eastern side of the village.
From the outside, you can already hear the loud sounds of a filled common room where everyone is talking over the next. Walking in, you are greeted by a large common room. Besides the doors that lead to a kitchen, there are no other room on the ground floor.
There is a tall fat man standing guard at the front door with a club. Anyone with any martial skill could assume that his size is the real deterrent than his ability. He watches you go in.
Making your way through the throng of people your eyes keep falling on several women who are laughing, caressing, and giving more ale to men and women. All of them are wearing skirts that look as if they would hardly cover a halflings rear, and shirts that struggle to keep their breast at bay. In the same sense, you also find men who are equally provocatively dressed and fawning over the patrons. Some of these men and women hold the hand of a guest as they lead them upstairs…
“What can I get for you hun?” says a woman who is wearing more clothing than the rest who seem to be working this tavern. “Fish is good tonight, and the wine will help you forget your travels and any poor decisions you make tonight!”
This establishment is located towards the center of town. Its thick perimeter wall is made up of thick thorny bushes. Though a wooden or stone wall would work better, the thorns is a deterrent enough to do its job.
The bushes have an opening to the west that reveals one large main building with smaller lodges dotting the surrounding area. You also see tents sprouting up from the ground here and there.
Walking into the main building you see a full, but not crowded common room. The fire is roaring, and there is a man playing a personal harp while singing mostly on key with the song. Nempura would gauge that she is from Wellswood and regularly plays this inn. Not too uncommon for a town this size with so many taverns and inns.
Walking up is an older woman is half round as she is tall. Her welcoming smile vaguely reminds you of your grandmother; “Welcome to the Boot & Wheel! We have room at the bar if you’d like, or we have room to spare at our communal table.” she motions for you to help yourself where you’d like to sit.
“I’ll be right back with some ales. Let me know if you’d like dinner. I made my baked parsnips and onions, and mixed greens stew. The parsnips have a little extra kick in them. I picked up some new spices that I am trying out. They even make an old woman like me sweat when it counts.” she heads off to get ale, and food if asked.
Not too much is happening in this common room, everyone seems to be just enjoying the evening with an ale or glass of wine.
Named for its many wells, Wellswood stands above a huge subterranean lake rich in exotic fish.
The local lord – Ilmari Issakainen – controls access to the lake by selling fishing licenses to his serfs; he levies half their catch in payment.
A small clan of dwarves – the Erdikr – dwell in the village; they have served the Issakainens for centuries and maintain the various wells and important buildings in the village.
"Thank you," she replies to the owner. "I may have some after, but I'm a bard from out of town. Do you pay for entertainment at all? I could liven up the place in a different way than your normal bards. Probably give them some interesting tales of victories recently accomplished up in Languard and to the north."
Parking the wagon in the guarded area of the Footsore Wanderer Ivar takes the time to unhitch the horses, and leads them to the watering trough letting them drink as he removes the harnesses. Hobbling the horses near the wagons, he gives them both a sliver of hay. Having seen to the animals, he tells whoever is still at the wagon, pointing back the way they came. "I enjoyed the smell wafting from the 'Angry Badger' I believe I'll head that way for dinner, then come back to the wagon and finish cleaning up the gear." Waiting for whomever wanted to go with him, he walks that direction.
As the woman approaches and asks what she can get them, Ivar started to ask what she recommended but holds his tongue as she continues. Chuckling at her comment about poor decisions, Ivar smiled, "I've had enough fish and poor decisions to last me a lifetime. May I have whatever hearty soup or stew you have in the pot, some dark bread and light ale please."
Merion agrees with Ewan that the Boot and Wheel sounds excellent. I'm myself a novice at the arcane--a few useful tricks, really. But I'll be glad to share knowledge.
As they walk, he assesses how well-armed the average denizen of the town is. Entering through the wall of thorns, he looks around for an empty-looking area and, should he find one, points it out to Ewan. Perhaps after some dinner but before we drink overmuch, we might have our lesson?
Preoccupied with thoughts of food, magic, weapons, and the day's encounter, and with appearing to blend in, Merion is not able to determine much about the town.
Those who have the skill are able to unsaddle and brush down their horse before heading out, but there are stable hands who are willing to do the work of the party. As Ivar mentions that he enjoyed the smell wafting from the ‘Angry Badger’ it earns a smile from Albin; “Enjoy, I’ll be staying here this evening. Mornin will come quick.” He says as he heads inside.
Walking in, Ivar understands Albin’s smile.
The barmaid nods to Ivar’s request. Coming back with a mug of ale for each person; “4 bits for the ale. We have some of the parsnip broth and bread left for those who don’t want the fish. What will the rest of you have?” The woman goes and returns with parsnip broth and thick chunks for bread for those who want it, or spiced fish with parsnip and onions for those who want the fish. “One penny for the meal.”
Collecting the coins; “New to town? Yours is a face one wouldn’t forget.” pointing to Ivar’s scar with a ‘matter of fact’ tone of voice. “What brings you in?”
A tussle breaks out between two men who are pulling at one of the provocatively dressed women. Clearly drunk and are making poor decisions, the large man at the door moves and clubs one over the head. Instantly dropping him. Holding out his club he points to the other to move towards the door. Grabbing the dropped man by the shirt he half drags, half aids him towards the door.
The crowd continues with their night, not skipping a beat. And the women finds a new patrons lap to sit on.
The woman’s eyes widen when Nempura mentions she is a bard; “A traveling bard? Oh my, we haven’t had one in quite some time. Unfortunately since the tolls and taxes have gone up I don’t have spare coin to pay. Gavin there just plays because he enjoys it. Though not the greatest, it does take the quiet away from the room.”
Looking Nempura, and anyone else who might have gone to the Boot & Wheel;[b] “You know… Most people who arrive with more than just a horse stay at the Footsore Wanderer because that is where they have the most room for wagons. But we do a fair amount of business here. I’ll make you a deal. I cannot pay you, but if you perform I’ll let you eat and drink for free, you can keep any tips you earn, and you can have one of my smaller lodges out back. It’s not putting coin in your pocket, but it isn’t taking coin out of your pocket.”
Gavin continues to play and he begins playing a familiar upbeat instrumental and the people in the common room cheer and are lively once again.
Merion and Ewan, and anyone else wanting the lesson, are able to find a few clearings around town that is off of the road to not draw too much attention, but still within the town proper not to be though someone who is trying to smuggle their way in past the toll booths.
Nempura had walked so fast that she hadn't noticed the others behind her milling through the crowd following her toward the Boot & Wheel. When the patron lightens up at the offer of her singing and tells of her hardships, Nempura offers her advice.
"Sure, hun. That sounds like a deal. You know...my companions all showed up at the Traveler's Rest. Not a single person from this location was there encouraging us to come down. During these times of hardships, to where only wagon trains are coming into town, you should take advantage of it. Have a barker listing out local delicacies, entertainment, and safe enjoyment down here. Snag that business. Then come through on your promise. Eventually, word of mouth will spread and the Traveler's Rest will just be a parking lot for wagons and nothing more." "I should own an inn..." she thinks to herself and moves into the establishment more and sets down her things with the bartender under the understanding she is entertainment.
Once Gavin begins his next song, Nempura will do her part to liven up the crowd by dancing for them and encouraging others to dance with her. She is lively, springy, and her undulating form works in alignment with the music; showing others how to actually dance with her. Once Gavin is finished, she will take her turn, indicating to him that she is a bard and will take over if he wishes to play occasional notes to aid her singing. If he understands chords, she will tell him what chord she will sing in so he can improvise along.
On stage, she will tell her tales with accompanying prestidigitation spells to further the unique entertainment and really put them in the moment of the stories. First being the tales of the ship. The second being the experience with banditry and their deception. After the second song involving her travels, she will sing some traditional songs for the region she has learned since coming to Languard that others can enjoy. Ones that are not politically charged or established only to certain areas that may breed conflict. Her companions may very well come in during her set.
Pennies
Helgar quietly thought to herself that she had heard of the subterranean lake that was rich in exotic fish, as well as he the fish were harvested by serfs who were taxed half of their catch. It was further proof of the perfidy of the world. She wondered what was the moral thing to do. She didn't want to support such a greedy noble, but at the same time the people relied on their trade. In the end she decided that this, like most problems, were beyond her, and she was hungry.
"Ale. Fish." She said, simply. "Ye do fish and chips? If so, I'll have it." She didn't want conversation. She thought of Arn and Aris, and wondered how much easier the last fight would have been if they were around. They were warriors, competent in their trade. And all she could do was struggle to keep her head up and be useful. More and more she felt like a smith who was being forced to be a tanner. Fighting wasn't her trade and it wasn't what she was good at. But it was her lot in life, at least until she could help her kinsmen recover. She just hoped that she wouldn't let them, or her group, down.
Realizing Helgar seemed to be deep in thought in thought Ivar ate his meal in companionable silence, Once he finished the soup and ale. He left two pennies on the table to pay for the food and server and exited the Angry Badger to head back to the wagon.
Ewan and Merion would spar for an hour or so, still able to use the last light of the day to not cause any severe accidents. Afterwards the two still need to get something to eat, so we will enter the Boot and Wheel some time later than the rest.
Ewan shows Merion the basics of sparring with a light blade, firstly just by letting Merion mirror his moves, just like he was taught himself by his mentor Lyria.
When Ewan thinks Merion has the basics of fencing under control, Ewan will offer Merion a chance for a training duel, fighting with no intention to wound of course.
For that matter, Ewan has two pieces of cork that can be placed over the point of their rapiers, so the can't pierce each other's skin.
Merion listens attentively to Ewan, paying as much attention to the man as to the sword techniques. [i]I've known few enough, but he seems like an honestly good sort. Must have grown up wealthy, to be that way and still alive.[i]
After they have concluded and are on their way to the Boot and Wheel, he asks Ewan Do you think that bandit will really give up thieving?
Ewan shrugs to Merion's question as they head out for food. "I don't kn-know. I hope so. He d-did s-seem g-gen-genuine e-nough in c-caring a-bout his f-fam-family. A life of b-ban-banditry is not an easy l-life. You risk y-your own life in per-for-ming it, b-but also risk get-getting c-caught and ar-res-ted. Th-that is twice t-the risk to your f-fa-mi-ly of l-losing you."
Ewan touches the hilt of his rapier, tracing the lines with his fingers as his memories go back to his many voyages and troubles he was in on board the ships.
"Be-coming a s-sailor, th-that w-worried my p-parents. Th-they w-were sc-scared of losing me. But w-when I got b-back, th-they k-knew they did not have to w-worry. Do you h-have any fa-family th-that w-worries about you?"
Merion looks downcast, and his reply is curt in tone. No. After a moment, he adds, Aside from Lady Pakkanen. Not that she's family, just an employer. But she looks after her own well enough. And Fruen, he mouths to himself, though he knows she cares only for him insofar as he is useful.
Ewan's innocent question has thrown Merion more than it seems it should, and for the rest of the walk his disposition is mildly antic, as if unable to be fully present. Several times he seems to think of something to say and then dismiss it. Finally, as they approach the inn, he asks Sailing, is that a lucrative profession?
The two of you spend a decent amount of time dueling. Working on forms, sharing defensive strategies, and learning about the different avenues the two of you are coming from with your experience with a blade.
As you make your way to the Boot & Wheel, you notice people heading in. More so than when you first rode past it coming into town.
Putting a towel on her shoulder after wiping her hands off, the woman nods holding out her hand; “We have a deal. You can perform for tips, your meal, and one of my lodges. The names Ellimia, and if you do a good enough job you’ll have a place to stay and perform anytime you pass through Wellswood.” When Nempura offers up advice, she shrugs; “Used to pay the toll booth mem a bit for each person who they sent our way. Jani” said with bitter distain “always has to take things up a notch and it quickly out of hand. Needless to say, we cannot use them to send people our way. But I will think on what your suggested.” Ellimia goes back about her work.
Nempura sets to work quickly getting the people energized, dancing, and laughing. All the while prying bits of information from the patrons about tunes they know and love. Once Nempura takes the stage Gavin gladly welcomes the break, but quickly comes back to play with a traveling bard. There are songs he knows well, and others that he is trying to learn on the fly. Guessing both right and wrong in the progression of the melody. He does an adequate job of keeping up, but wouldn’t survive in larger cities.
As time goes by, Nempura notices people leaving. But thankfully they return with friends to enjoy the evening with.
As Merion and Ewan arrive, they now see why there are more people coming into the inn. Nempura is on the stage performing along with a man playing a personal harp. Making their way to a table that has a few open seats, they are greeted by an older woman who is half round as she is tall.
“What will it be, are we eating or just drinking tonight? Have some of the mixed greens stew left, and just enough of the chicken soup remaining for a bowl or two. Ales by the pint, wine by the pitcher.” She returns shortly with whatever the two of you ordered. Merion and Ewan look around and see people enjoying their time dancing and drinking. Carefree of the fact that just a short ride away from here were bandits that were set up at a bridge looting people’s belongings and who knows what else.
The night here at the Boot & Wheel continues with nothing out of the ordinary happening. People come and go to enjoy the evening. Food and drink flow for as long as the patron’s coins continue to hit the counter.
By the time it is all said and done, Nempura picks up a wooden cup that was placed down for tips and there is some weight to it surprisingly enough. In there she finds 19 pennies worth of mixed coins. As the night dies down Ellimia hands Nempura a key; “lodge number 3, you’ve earned it. If you don’t want to continue your travels I wold love to offer you something long term. Paid of course.”
“No chips, just bread. Fresh though. Baked it myself this mornin.” As the night continues, you are brought ale by the pint for as long as you’re putting the coins on the table. There isn’t much entertainment beyond the visuals and if you decided to take a hand up the stairs.
Eventually one of the workers comes by your table to see if you need any of their services, but quickly move on if the answer isn’t a firm yes. From the crowd that is here, you believe that it is going to keep up at this pace longer than you might be willing to stay awake.
Surprisingly, the two men that were escorted out of the building were the only ones who were forced to leave. Most would think that with the amount of ale being served that it would have been double or triple that amount.
Once you’ve had your fill of decent fish, cheap ale, and an eye full that could fill an imagination for months, you head off to find a bed.
Merion sits quietly, somewhat lost in thought but also observing the crowd. Wonder if anyone here knows the bandits...they seemed too small-time to be anything but local.
If the occasion arises, he asks other diners, especially travelers, how they've found the roads. However, he is still troubled--it's not just the wound he took at the bridge that is aching.
To Ellimia, she takes hold of the key and her coins, holding them in hand, and will chuckle.
"I appreciate the offer. If I come back this way, I'll perform again. Maybe I'll have some posters made and draw a huge crowd for ya. I am on a time crunch right now and have no time to stay. I'll be leaving here before sunup. If you could establish an early rising for me with breakfast, I'll appreciate it. We have some things to do before the caravan leaves again."
Seeing Ewan and Merion in there brings a smile to her face. Nempura moves over to their table amid the praise of the crowd and stands at the edge of it.
"Couldn't get enough of me hmm? I'll be staying the night here..." she yawns. "I'll see you boys in the morning. Keep those wounds clean and I'll heal you when I'm not so darn drained."
With that, she'll wink and then head off to her lodge for the night.
As the evening wains, Ivar heads back to the wagon. Raising an eyebrow when he see's Arren still working on cleaning the weapons and armor they took from the bandits. "Still vorking on der gear?" Standing at the back of the wagons. "I t'ought everyvone vent der own vay for dinner." He begins drawing the short swords out of their scabbards, looking at the blades for any nicks he can grind out with a stone. "I must admit, you have done very good vork on der gear."
Ewan chuckles somewhat at Merion's question. "No, I th-think s-sailing it-self isn't that pro-fi-table. Un-less you are the c-cap-tain or the m-merchant. As a p-pur-purser, I k-kept logs about t-the in-ven-tory. Rea-reasonable pay, b-but it is h-honest w-work."
Ewan listens appreciatively to the music as he and Merion walk inside. Ewan's stomach rumbles after the training and he is more focused on getting a meal than actively looking at the one who is performing the song and music.
When the older woman asks them if they want to eat or drink. Ewan nods and replies holding up two fingers. "One of e-each to eat pl-please. And t-two p-pints of ale pl-please."
Ewan shares the meal and pints with Merion, offering him first-pick of what he wants to eat. It is only then that he realizes that they stumbled in upon Nempura's performance and can only think to himself.
Wow, she is really good in captivating a crowd isn't she?
Ewan wants to congratulate Nempura on her performance, only to deeply blush at her comment, then unable to utter a word in reply.
“Posters?!?” Ellimia exclaims; “You might only want to do that if you’re bring an entire circus with you!” she chuckles to herself then looks around; “Believe me, when you come back through those who were hear tonight will want to come back.”
Furrowing her brow; “Before sunup?” she looks to Nempura and her apparent two friends, Ewan and Merion; “Arriving late and leaving early would be something someone who was dodging the authorities would do. But you don’t seem dumb enough to be on the run and performing as you go.”
Still listening, she moves to bring out Nempura’s belongings.
Looking towards Ewan and Merion and their empty plates and pints; “Did it hit the spot for you guys? Always try to provide a hardy meal for those who travel and stop on by, I know it can be sparce at times on the road. Two more ales?”
Arren spends the evening out by the wagons cleaning the gear. Several times the stable hands come out and check on her. Making sure that everything is okay, and to make sure that everything is on the up and up.
After sometime, before anyone else is back. Albin makes his way out to where Arren is working and takes a seat next to her on the bench where she is cleaning. He is holding two empty mugs and a pitcher. No speaking to her, Albin pours two mugs of red wine. “Don’t seem like a sweet wine kind of girl.” Offering Arren the mug; “Cheers!”
Albin takes a drink of his wine; “Not one for the night life?” settling his head back against the wall/wagon/whatever is behind him; “When I was a young adventurer I would burn through the coin I came across before I made it home. Ale, women, gear… Now what do I have to show for it?” he kind of shrugs opening his empty hands. “Last thing I did have was that silver dagger, and that is even gone. I do suppose I have the coin from that sale.” tapping his breast pocket.
Albin reaches out to grab one of the items Arren has not gotten to yet and begins to help.
As time goes by and Ivar returns Albin stands up and stretches his stiff back. Picks up the now empty pitcher, and nods to Ivar; “Time for me to get some rest. Not sure if they have any more but might want to check if they have any of the rabbit or chicken left.”
Albin heads through the side door into the Footsore Wanderer
Merion has had a day of it, and waits to see if Ewan orders another ale.
To Ewan's remark about where the money is in sailing, he just replies That's the way of it. And yet he's got enough funds to be free with hundreds of gold for our man Albin's story. Purser indeed.
"You're a kind man Albin. Thank you." She takes the drink and sips it, it takes her the better part of an hour to drink the cup.
"Money is something that I struggle with as well. All of my spare coin is tied up in furtive gambits to lose this curse. I am not dead, but not all the way alive either..." She trails off for a second. [b]"You're right about the sweet wine. I lost the ability to taste sweet about a year ago. It's the little things that you miss."
...
"Do you not have any friends left over from your adventuring days? No contacts, no nothing? I hope that you will invite us to visit wherever you end up settling down then. Rest well, and get yourself a hot water bottle for your back. It'll do you wonders."
To Ivar: "Thank you, but my father could have done better. I was still just a journeyman, not a master by any means. I miss him and my mother dearly at times." She looks at the Norseman. "What about you Ivar? Do you have any family? A mother? A father? You seem popular with the ladies, Nempura at least seems rather fond of you, so perhaps any children of your own?"
Nempura laughs with Ellimia. There is delight in her voice.
"Well thank you for the compliments. You were a good host, and I hope you enjoyed the tales. I may have more for your company here on the way back."
Her eyebrow raises at the guessing that she could potentially be someone avoiding the law. She snickers and shakes her head.
"We arrived late because we ran into trouble on the road down here. Before sunup is because we have some stuff to sell before our caravan heads out at normal time. I hope that explains it." Beaming a grin, she is certainly not tough enough to be some cutthroat villain, and if she was, she's damn deceptive, as she's quite amiable to Ellimia and the crowd of people.
Once she takes up her belongings, she heads to bed and settles in. She is so tired she only has the time to treat and bind her hair and then collapses in her clothes. With the door locked and her pack on the bed with her, she will be asleep until before the first light of the morning.
Helgar slept peaceful in sanctified ground. It reminded her of simpler days, before she was ordained. Even then she felt the weight of expectations upon her shoulders, but at least then there were no lives at stake. But she was warm, she was safe, and there was peace and quiet for her prayers. It was enough, and she was thankful for it as she drifted off to sleep.
Surprised by Arren's humility, Seamus shakes his head as he looks at the gear. "He may craft better den you, but he couldn't have done better cleaning der gear."
Raising an eyebrow at Arren's directness, 'Popular with the ladies?' Ivar starts to answer. "My Föður und Móður live in Skaalhaft vit my older Bróðir und two younger Systur. My Föður und Bróðir dey are Whaler's und Hunters. I love de sea, but hated der fishing, so I left." Considering the rest of the question. "I have no children." Pausing while cocking his head slightly. "Or at least none dat I know of."
Giving a light shrug, "It is difficult to tell who or Vhat Nempura is fond of." Sheathing the shortsword back in it's scabbard, he picks up another. "You und she are both very beautiful, each in your own vay. Any man vould be luck to be trúlofuð. how you say, in a relationship vit you."
Ewan slides over the pint of ale towards Merion, then holds his pint up to toast.
The rest of the evening passes by him as he seems tired and a bit distracted by the events of the day. After having downed his last pint after several careful sips, Ewan calls it an evening and heads back to their wagon, to sleep under it in his bedroll.
Arren blushes a bit at Ivar's commentary. "Am I? I've been on the road for so long now. Was sill a little girl when I left. I've been so focused on the chill in my bones that I've barely noticed getting older." She looks down at her work, and says in a quiet voice. "I wasn't always able to do magic. It didn't used to be so bad. I was just pale and thin, instead of bleached and emaciated. And the longing. The terrible longing for the warmth of warm flesh... no, it didn't used to be this bad."
Seeming to look for a change of subject, she inquires further about Ivar. "My family didn't have any other children than me, what was it like to have siblings? Did you get along well?"
The rest of the evening winds down. Depending on where you stay, the keepers of the inn collect your coins for the rooms.
The day has been long and tiresome. Not all of you are used to spending the day in the saddle and you can feel it. Because of this sleep comes fast.
Your eyes open as the sun warms your skin. Looking up you notice that the shade of the tree you fell asleep under has moved. Standing, you gather your blanket, and you notice that you are alone. There is a basket set out with food within, but you are unsure who you were sharing it with.
Looking around you find yourself in a garden. Finely sculpted shrubbery and beautiful flowers fill the landscape surrounding the tree you were under. You start to wonder where they went, whoever you were with.
As you walk your way through the garden you find yourself heading into an area the seems neglected. Wilted leaves, bushes past trimming, walkways overgrown. You press on, looking.
You can’t find them but what you do find is leaves that are spotted. Just a few at first, but the further you walk the more you realize it. Black and brown spots, tiny ones, beginning to cover the leaves.
Pulling a flower closely to examine it, you notice that the spot is an ichor, that is spreading across the flower. Across all the plants. Across the garden. You find ones that are fully covered and when you get close enough to examine it, your breath causes it to crumble. Like ash without fire.
You try to move back but the ash lands on your clothing. Brushing it off you realize that whatever was on the flowers, whatever it is, is now on you. Starting to spread across your clothing.
In a panic you think to take off your clothing so it won’t touch your flesh. But it is too late. The spots are already on your skin, spreading. Rubbing at your skin to stop it doesn’t prevent it. It causes it to spread quicker.
As your fear continues to rise you go to scream, but only ash comes out from your mouth.
Panning back
The once beautiful garden is now a barren wasteland that is covered with drifting ash.
You wake up and you don’t remember what scared you, but you have sweat beads on your forehead and your heart is racing. You push yourself up and you realize that you are on a cot. Looking around you are in a medic tent and outside you hear the sound of battle.
You are wearing unfamiliar armor that is battle worn and blood is covering you.
Pushing the curtain away you reveal a war. Sword and shield in your hand. These weren’t here before. You rush into battle. Turning, you are surrounded by hundreds of soldiers charging. Where did the tent go? You see the battle underway before you, and you are supplying backup.
“For Languard! For ASHLAR!” The voices cry out around you.
With a crash, your troops slam into the opposing army. You don’t know what opposing nation you are battling, but you are fighting for your life. Hacking, slashing, kicking, bashing. Everything you can do to stay atop the forces.
Then your freeze. Your heart stops. You notice that the bodies that fall, friend or foe, are starting to rise again. What is this magic?
Then you see him. “Rise! Rise my army! Fight on! All will eventually be mine!” Then you see a strange man. Vaguely familiar. Cruel twisted short sword in one hand, and the other fitted with wicked claws.
Fear fills you. Your instinct is to run. You want to, but something is bolstering your courage. And that is when you see him. The child. While everything in you is telling you to run away, he is pressing on towards that creature. A radiant light begins to glow from him the closer he draws to the creature.
You can feel your wounds knitting together. The dead that were rising, fell. You cannot see before you, as everything is white. Blinding white.
You wake up, drenched in sweat. Looking to your windows, it is still dark out. Those who were sharing a common room realize that those who were in there are looking at you like you were mad.
“You were thrashing” “You were shouting” “You were moaning in pain” or other similar things are told to you.
Where are 'they' you think to yourself... My friends!