'Is she being humble or is she really that shy?' Raising an eyebrow at Arren's question and explanations. 'I wonder what she means about a terrible longing for warmth.... ah an only child.' He pauses trying to remember everything, "ya, I vould say your are attractive, T'in yes, Emaciated?" Shaking his head no, he then points at the scar. "At least you do not have vone of dese." Pausing, "Vene you are cold, does der fire help? Anyvay, as for my family, I have no complaints ve got along vell enough." He smiled, "If ve didn't my Móður vould say, "If you have time to fight, you have time to vork." und she vould find somet'ing for us to do." His smiled faded slightly. "If it got too bad den she vould tell Föður und he vould deal vit us in a different fashion. I found dat de vork vas varning enough und stopped der fighting."
------------------------------
'What the .... I was sleeping under the wagon. Who pulled me out and where is the ... Pausing his mental rant as he admired the sun shining down on him, Ivar gathers his blanket wondering where the people were that moved him here. 'It must have been Helgar, she'd be strong enough, maybe Nempura talked someone into it.' Not finding his friends he continues walking through the fading garden. Not really knowing a lot about plants, he knew there should not be ichor on the flower he plucked. As the other turned to ash, he realized the Icor was now on himself. Dropping his blanket he begins to pull his shirt off over his head, feeling the shirt wipe on his face Ivar wipes his face, ash now on his hands ,crumbling from his long hair now ashen as well. As he opens his mouth to scream ash pours from it, like rats running from a burning ship....
As the dreams pressed onwards, he found himself feeling quite awake as the sun bathed him in a seemingly afternoon glow.
Odd... I ... am sure I was here with someone. Almost feels like a picknick.
Ewan looks around the garden, red rose bushes, many different coloured flowers, beautiful sculptures. He took a deep breath and smelled the sweet scent of the different flowers. Almost perfect.
There was something strange in the air, but he couldn't lay his finger on it.
Wait... That patch over there. That doesn't really look like someone's taking care after it.
Ewan slowly approaches the wilting flowers and dry patches of bushes, seeing the strange spots on the leaves. As he picks a flower to examine it more closely.
Definitely peculiar. Doesn't seem natural
Ewan looks inside the flower, seeing some of the ash, than sniffs a bit, inhaling a stingy smell that irritates his nose. As he sneezes, the air blown out through his nose destroys the flower in his hand, leaving only little flakes of ash, like it was burned from the start.
As a few flakes hit his shirt, Ewan realizes quickly that it starts to spread rapidly and discards his clothes. Close call He breathes rapidly, deep breaths, then the air begins to dry up in his nose, breathing becomes difficult and as Ewan looks down at his nose, he begins to see black spots emerge. Touching it only makes the spots appear and spread on his fingertips and hands.
As Ewan tries to scream, only a cough of black flakes emerge from his lungs.
As Ewan wakes up in a fit of sheer terror, he shoots upright underneath the wagon.
"Oww! Oh that hurts." Ewan grabs his head with both hands and slowly rolls from underneath the wagon, while still in his bedroll.
When he clears the wagon, he crawls out of it and stands up quickly.
"That was some awakening." He scratches his head and feels the painful bump on his head.
As Ewan tries to discern anything around himself, he could only hear the angry voice of Ivar from the opposite side of the wagon.
"Ivar?! Y-you th-there?"
Helgar sat bolt upright in the temple, covered in cold sweat. The dream had felt so real. Too real. There had been a battle, in which there were the walking dead and a cruel man. But there had also been a child, who had banished the dark. It had been terrifying. Part of her wanted to push the dream aside, and chalk it up to the trauma that had been their expedition to the lost ship. But this was holy ground, so she couldn't discount it so easily. Perhaps this was a sign from the divine? She decided that she would talk to the head priest of the temple come morning, if she had the chance...
Awakened in shivers of terror, Nempura pulls the pillow over her face. She didn't even want to open her eyes to see if everything was the same. A little squeal came from her but then nothing but silence. There was some distant murmurs from nearby sleepers who had heard her thrashing and whimpering loudly in her room. Then, a knock! Nempura screams into her pillow, thankfully muffled and soon there is a quick jingle of keys and the door is unlocked. Light fills the room as the attendant comes in saying he heard screaming. With a panting voice, the less-than-appropriately-dressed Nempura holds her blankets tightly and peers out from behind the pillows edge. There she sees a young man sent to wake her.
"I'm fine. Thank you. Just a ...terrible dream...whew...Sorry."
After he leaves her, she will get fully dressed and will head down for breakfast. If she hadn't been so darned exhausted the previous day, she wouldn't want to eat, but as it is, she finds her appetite and downs the oats and honey.
With a thanks to the cook, she heads back toward the Traveler's Rest to find some of her companions near the wagon, Ivar looking quite blustered.
"What's going on?"
Although the bard's inquiry is cheerful, there is a distance in her tone--a fear.
Smiling slightly, Arren says, "It's not that type of cold Ivar. Not the longing for summer on a cold winter day, but the desire to feel a pulse held by a dead woman walking."
"I do have several tattoos though! That is something that we have in common!"
==
Arren sleeps in the wagon, surrounded by the gear that she had been cleaning when she finally passes out. She had hoped that the work would prevent any bad dreams this evening. Obviously she was mistaken.
The sounds of twin thunks hitting the floor of the wagon brought her back to reality. Ivar and Ewan's voices broke the silence.
"I'm sorry! Did I cry out in my dream, and wake you two?"
Ivar, Ewan and Arren find themselves waking at the same time, each of them noticing the sounds of panic/fear/startled of the others waking. No one is out in the stables at this time, which you might find surprising since this is a guarded stable yard for the caravan. But, it is still dark out and possible for a guard to fall asleep.
After sometime Nempura joins the group.
At the sounds of Helgar’s night terrors, an acolyte places his hand on the dwarf’s shoulder. “Ma’am… ma’am! Wake up.” Standing over Helgar is a young boy. From Helgar’s experience in temples, this is the newest acolytes. The one who makes sure the candles stay lit through the night, and the one who tends to the needs of anyone who comes in through the night. “You were having a nightmare. Is there anything I can get for you?”
Looking through the stained glass, it is still dark out.
'Is that what she thinks she is? Already dead?' Raising an eyebrow "Is dat vat you t'ink you are? Dead?" He shakes his head, "If ve are both cursed ve can fight it toget'er. I vill help keep you alive und you vill help me not become a monster." He smiles at the comment about the tattoos. "I have only der vone, of der 'Sea Volf' a totem of my people."
Since the gear was clean and he was ready to sleep; he unstraps his expensive breastplate, removing the gambeson and then pulling his doeskin tunic over his head displaying the abstracted totem. As he pulls his blanket out of his rucksack, he smiles at his friend. "I like der cold, anytime you need warmth you may lay against my back." He then pushes his gear under the wagon where he intends to sleep.
”A…a vision, I think.” Helgar said, clutching her holy symbol. ”It didn’t feel like a dream. More like a warning.” Looking outside at the darkness she shuddered. ”I would discuss it in the morning, I apologize for the commotion.” She finished, feeling embarrassed at making such a spectacle.
Just as Ivar and Ewan lock eyes for a moment, Ewan swallows the lump in his throat and speaks about his own dream to Ivar and Arren. Was it his own dream even?
"No... Y-you didn't w-wake us Arren... I, too, h-had a dr-dream a-bout a gar-garden tur-ning to ash. I only aw-woke f-from that n-night-mare as I w-was be-gin-ning to c-cough up the ash as w-well."
Ewan hastily looks around the camp in alarm as now at least two of the group had the same dream. Noticing no-one coming in alarmed by the ruckus, Ewan feels a bit surprised.
"S-seems l-like we w-were l-lucky e-nough to not w-wake anyone. Every-one a s-sound sl-slee-sleeper it s-seems."
Arren's smile lingers for a second, and then turns deadly serious. Holding out her hand for Ivar to shake, she says, "Deal. We will keep each other from becoming monsters together then Ivar." Her skin is the ambient temperature of the wagon, and her grip is soft, obviously physical strength was not her specialty. Taking a knife she had just cleaned from the pile, she slices a thin line across her palm, letting a drop of blood form. It oozes almost lazily down her hand and onto the dusty wagon bed. "There, a blood oath. I take those seriously, and don't make them lightly." Lightening the mood, she smiles again. "Thank you for the offer Ivar. I may remember that for the future."
===
"It seems that we've all had a very similar dream then. I wonder if the others did too, and what it could mean..." Despite the troubling nature of the shared dream, the fledgling necromancer seems almost relived about something.
'A blood oath? That's serious, she must be really concerned.' Looking Arren in the eye for a moment, Ivar eventually nods. Drawing his dagger from his boot, he gently pierces the skin on his right palm. Taking the woman's hand, feeling her gentle grip in his as his massive hand engulfs hers. "A blood oath a serious t'ing indeed. As long as ve travel toget'er ve keep each ot'er's monster at bay."
He returns her smile, with a wide grin "Skaalhaft in know for cold nights und small beds. Vit one Bróðir und two Systur you get used to somevone cold sleeping against your back."
Ivar begins looking around seeing if he could find a guard that should be on duty. The door to the Inn from here is unlocked and can enter if he’d like. Peeking into the door he can hear the sounds of the kitchen workers starting on that mornings breads and the preparation for the meals ahead. The aroma of the meat spinning over the fire is almost enough to draw him in.
Continuing around to the stable doors Ivar sees that they are still locked from the inside. Bar firmly in place. Just to the left of those large double doors is the small stable hand’s work room. Leaning against the wall is the sleeping guard who should be watching. Ivar sees that the guard is barely a man in years.
Ivar hears a knock at the door within the large double doors, opening it to reveal Nempura arriving this early morning.
“Oh, no commotion at all. Not many travelers are staying with us this evening.” seeing Helgar look to the window, “It is still dark, but the sun should be rising in just over an hour. Will you head back to sleep or start the day early?”
Having worked his way around the fenced yard, Ivar sticks his head in the door of the inn to make sure everything seems ok. Finding everything to be normal he makes his way to the stables. Seeing the sleeping guard leaning against the wall, Ivar scowls, then hears the knock on the door. Seeing Nempura emerge, Ivar looking quite blustered, blurts out. "fjandinn, latur, engin góð vörður." Gesturing towards the sleeping guard with his torch. "Der guard fell asleep." After explaining his frustration to Nempura he storms off back towards the wagon to begin putting on his gear.
There is a look of shock as the barbarian blurts out at her some tongue that she doesn't know. She would laugh if she wasn't so disturbed.
"It's a smaller town. Things move at a slower pace here."
It is clear that Nempura has been up for a little while. She seems satisfied and ready for the day. The early morning meal, the brisk walk in the cool of the morning, and being blustered at by a barbarian has shaken any sleep remaining from her lively eyes.
"I had a horrible night sleep...but at least I got paid. Actually, the past couple nights have been rough for me."
The bard almost seems timid to admit as much. She doesn't like to appear weak, but these dreams have really been horrific. She's contemplating seeking out aid for a curse remedy, to see if she's been cursed or if it is just trauma from the events on the ship.
"What did you dream?" The sorceress's usually quiet and non-confrontational manner was gone, replaced by an almost hissing intensity. "What did you see?"
Ewan could almost see the hesitancy in Nempura's eyes, hear it in her voice as she speaks as she relays the horrible sleep she had. Ewan is not an observant man at all, still he could pick up on things he could relate with. Usually he had to know them a little longer, but still.
He had the feeling she wasn't saying everything, hiding a bit of an uneasy truth, but unsure as to what it was.
"If it is any so-lace to you. W-we all h-have had a n-night-mare t-this n-night. Stra-strangely e-nough, it s-seemed to be t-the s-same dream. Did y-you dr-dream a-bout a garden w-with ash as w-well?"
Nempura was about to dismiss the fact she was having these dreams, but at the group's assistance, a bewildered look comes over her face. At Ewan's words, she can't speak for a long moment. Eventually, she nods. Clearly the bard is shaken.
"This is the work of the gods..." she says at long last concerning her dreams. "We need to see if Helgar too has had these dreams, and decide what we are to do about it. Maybe everyone is having this dream? We could ask the guard?" she gestures back toward the gate to Ivar who had found him sleeping. If it is indeed just their group, how can they deny the gods' will? Perhaps Helgar will have some special insight?
Nodding as Nempura admitted a poor nights sleep, Ivar responded as he pulled his gear out from under the wagon. "Ve all did."
Listening while the others spoke about the dreams, Ivar began to dress. First his shirt, then gambeson and finally the breastplate. He frowned as Nempura called it the work of 'the gods' adding. "Could it be der vork of a powerful vizard? Mayhaps Helgar can tell der difference."
Shaking his head, when she spoke of the guard. Concerned hat his anger may get the best of him. "You may speak vit der lazy guard if you vish, but I vill not." Shrugging, "But I doubt if even he could sleep t'rough der nightmare."
"I'm up." Helgar said. After thanking the priestess she decided to stay awake in prayer, asking her deity for a sign or revelation that would help her understand her dream. She resolved that after doing so, she would give her thanks to the temple for their hospitality and would then rejoin the others.
"Maybe," she answers Ivar, noting his getting set for the day. She didn't like admitting it was the god's work herself, but it made sense.
"This all started with an idol. And the boy is at the center of this. In my dreams, he's been a sort of priest when I dreamt about something similar to this last night. Now I'm wondering if Helgar shared that dream too. I could see perhaps it being a wizard if I had slept here, but I slept all the way in the center of town in a nice room with a door closed. No one came in. It would be near impossible for any mage I could think of. I don't like being meddled with in any case..."
With Ivar refusing to go to the guard, she decides it's better to not ask as he may be grumpy. With a spin, she turns to head back to the gate to inquire of the guard how he slept and if there was anything interesting he dreamt about. There, she will see Helgar coming up the road and will beckon her to come closer.
Helgar sighed in relief as she saw Nempura waving her over. It was a relief to see a friendly face that could ground her into the real world. Leaving the lingering doubt from the dream behind, she approached with a smile.
"Good to have some time off, aye?" She said. "Hope ye all rested well."
It is still dark out, you can faintly see the glimmer of the sun starting to rise. Coming from the door leading into the inn is Hank with an apple in his hand. “I am going to hitch up the horses on the supplies and head to make a few trades. Hour or two and I will be set.” looking towards the door; “Where is that boy?” he says as he hustles towards the guard room.
You see Hank hustle into the room and you over hear shouts of anger and reprimands as he wakes the young man; “Wake up you lazy…” “What am I paying good coin for if there is no guard?” “Get out there and get my horses ready” and he continues on as the boy shamefully gets to work.
You know that Tuomi’s Outfitters is a shop that has everything that your typical traveler should need to reach his destination. Fruen Tuomi is the owner of the shop, and you know she lives at the shop also.
While drinking and getting to know the people of the community, a few of you learned that Fruen is a retired adventurer and there were rumors of her still having some of her gear. Some of which is magical.
"Oh, not as well as I'd like. Ivar and the others want to ask you something."
She lets the dwarf pass her in kind greeting. From the look on Nempura's face, she does seem somewhat cheery this morning. It is in proximity of the guard she is about to ask questions to though, so she is faking. As the bard goes to the guard on duty, in an almost coy manner, she inquires of the guard, hoping not to offend him given him being caught sleeping.
"Excuse me. Yes. Remember me from before when the big guy woke you?" She greets him with an open smile and her womanly form leaning on the gate in a relaxed manner as if making casual conversation. "Hi, my name is Nempura." "Was he at the tavern last night?" she wonders. Perhaps he recognizes her? Perhaps he wasn't there. "You looked comfortable here when I came up. I almost felt sorry we woke you from your sweet dreams. Dreaming of anything nice?" she asks innocently with mild curiosity. If he truly dreamt what they did, his face will clearly be disturbed. If not, it's likely he didn't dream what they did and they are individually affected by this.
Merion did indeed find a warm corner by the wagons, where Robin could have relatively easy access to come and go. His sleep was long in coming, as he replayed scenes from the battle in his mind. I could have been killed there, and there...could have killed that man if I'd struck true...people do this for their living?
The sleep is of poor quality when it comes, even before the dream. His frantic flailing knocks him off his corner, and the cold and rough ground wake him with a start. After carefully checking all his parts and belongings, particularly his book of spells, to ensure they're as he left them the previous evening, he goes and looks for the others.
He's found no mirror but through Robin's reaction to him he can tell that he looks rough. There will be a way to freshen up inside. Despite the poor sleep, he finds everyone else awake already.
G'morn, he greets the other four. Forcing what he hopes is a jovial laugh, he adds Trust you had a better night than I did.
'An idol, so it seems it might be the gods.' Scowling at the thought of dealing with the gods, Ivar nods at Nempura's explanation, "Dat makes sense, I know little of vizards abilities. But like you, I don't like being, how did you put it? Meddled vit."
Seeing Hank enter the gated area, Ivar pauses to see how he responded to the sleeping guard. The big northerner ods his head approvingly. It wasn't his job to chastise the young man, but he was glad to see that it had been dealt with, if no a litle lightly. Captain Tavar would have had the man flogged.
Seeing Helgar approaching Ivar turned to greet her. As he began to answer the dwarfs inquiry, he heard Nempura answer and comment. Raising an eyebrow he turned to the woman, "I do? Do I?" Torn between telling the bard not to speak for him and finding out about Helgar's dream, his curiosity eventually got the better of his annoyance. Hearing Merion did not have a good night either, he turns back towards the cleric, "Ve all had dreams about a garden dat turned to ash. Did you dream der same?"
Helgar shook her head. "Nay. I dreamt...of a battlefield. There was a war, and the dead began to rise. There was a necromancer, who was...familiar. Can't place me finger on it. And a child of radiant light." She stopped, realizing that she was looking out into the distance. With a sigh she turned her attention back to Ivar. "Shared dreams often means that the Gods are speaking to us. I fear that our path won't be an easy one."
Merion replies to Ivar, I dreamed that too. What do you think the gods are trying to tell us? Hearing it wasn't just his dream heartens him somewhat--it's part of the adventure and not a private torture. He tries to think about what he might know of shared dreams from his studies.
Hearing Helgar's version, he adds Might that child be the one you all found? The one with that garment--I still have it, by the way, in case it'd be of any use.
"Truly?" Helgar asked, interest in her voice. "So a true message from the Gods it was then. Aye, that child may well be it. Most likely is...can't think of anything else. What worries me is that these visions are coming to us, and nay someone with more...well, power. Authority. Experience." She idly ran a hand across the top of her hammer as she talked. "But the Gods wouldn't send these visions to us if we couldn't handle it..." She finished, talking more to herself at that point that Merion.
Ivar's response to her makes her brow raise. "I wasn't trying to be rude...," she thinks to herself. Ivar would handle business and bluntly explain things thus far in their journey. Of all the group, she trusted him the most because of his open book methods so far. He and Helgar. The snap in his questioning her gives her pause and makes her think something is going on she isn't understanding. Instead of inquiring, she just lets him speak with Helgar and instead focuses on her conversation with the guard, trusting the others will get the dwarf on the same page.
'Blasted dreams, Blasted gods.' Listening as Merion and Helgar talk about the possibility of the gods sending the dreams and what it all may mean. Growling under his breath, he gestures towards the barn and the horses. "Gods or no, ve have a vagon to prepare for travel."
As he stalks towards the barn he thinks about the dream again, waking with ash pouring from his mouth and the sound of the other's reactions. Nerves on edge walking around the compound and finding the guard happily sleeping. As frazzled as he was he could have murdered the man for his complacency. His nerves raw he snapped at his friend Nempura for no reason. This all seemed to stem from the child Nempura and Helgar had found. Shaking his head he looked over his shoulder wondering what he had gotten himself in to.
Hoping doing a mundane task would calm his nerves, Ivar began the process of getting the horses ready to be hitched to the wagons.
"A m-mes-message of the gods eh? T-that w-would be some-th-thing in-deed. I w-would h-have hoped for a less scary v-ver-sion for a f-f-first m-message."
Ewan finds the lest of his gear as the others were talking he was more busy getting dressed and packing his stuff up again.
"W-wait...Did you t-tell us a-bout a child be-fore?" Ewan turns around quickly in disbelief as his mind wraps around what had just been mentioned.
Hank continues to hustle the young man on in his work, not really allowing much of conversation between the stable hand and the group. “oh.. ummm, once second. I have… to finish.” and he quickly gets back to work.
Once he is finished and Hank heads out, the young man approaches the group mumbling to himself as he wipes off his hands; “Doze off for a few minutes and it’s the end of the world… Hey! What can I help you with? Dreams?” he thinks for a moment; “Nothing specific, well… I can’t really think of what I was dreaming about, but then again I never usually do.” He shrugs as he smiles at Nempura. From his body language, you get the sense that something has him raddled. But, with the way Hank woke him up and berated him it is understandable.
With your K-Arcana spell you do know that there are magics that can impact people’s dreams causing Nightmares, but that is usually a single person.
You are unsure of what the gods could do, but then again they are gods and anything is possible with them.
"It's not likely," she thinks to herself. "I'm the same way with dreams usually. I had a weird one about ash last night. Anyway, you guys are probably pretty quiet around here at night normally right?" she continues in general conversation. "No real trouble with local bandits or thieves, right?" Nempura is appealing to his protective nature to maybe learn something about this stronghold of bandits. Maybe he knows something?
With the others getting ready, she thinks to the gear they mean to sell before the caravan heads out. Also, what are their plans with this dream. Suddenly, she feels odd having headed this way, and while the mansion is in line for her desires in being wealthy and famous, something with this child and the gods makes her feel like she's doing something wrong by not figuring out what is happening in Languard.
Nempura ask about trouble and the young man shakes his head; “No, most of that is prevented by having the toll booth. Yeah it is a pain for people bringing in goods, but we see a lot less loss.” he looks around; “They probably don’t even need me here… but caravans and people bringing in goods pay more to stay here because it is gated and we have a guard on duty.”
As the young man sees the party getting gear together and horses ready, he jumps in lending a hand as needed. He continues in small talk Where did you come from. Where are you going. What caused you to be a caravan guard etc…
An elderly woman comes out from the inn. He apron is well worn. She is holding a basket of scraps and places them in a bin in a corner of the stables. When she comes out, everyone’s stomachs grumble at the aroma of cooked sausage, baked breads, and an aromatic tea that pours out from that door. She smiles and nods as she walks back in.
Did I spill something I shouldn't have? Merion kicks himself in response to Ewan's question. Well, we'll see what comes of it.
He busies himself getting ready, and briefly checks in with Robin before letting the bird fly to a treetop and be generally on watch for any danger. Trying to keep a level disposition, but more excited than afraid for what the next chapter will bring.
Chuckling as Ewans comment about the gods sending dreams that were 'less scary' Ivar shrugged, "Der gods remind me of der old women in my village." Seeing the woman coming towards them with breakfast, he gestures her direction. "Speaking of vich." He then heads towards the stables, nodding politely to the old woman as she leaves.
Helping himself to a board of bread and sausage, Ivar takes a bite out of a dark loaf, pointing it at Ewan. "Der Child in der story, you remember de vone she told in der tavern for silver." He takes another bite of the bread. "Dat vas vhat happened to her und Helgar."
In part, she disagrees. She wouldn't like to know a guard was asleep, but she doesn't harass him.
"Well. Thank goodness for that. There are bandits up north. Anyway, you should get something to eat too."
The bard gives him a fond wave and smile, then heads back to the wagons. To the woman, she declines the food, having had her breakfast already. When she is gone, Nempura will communicate what she knows.
"This appears to be an isolated incident. Whoever is behind it, gods or a cabal of mages, others didn't seem to have the dream, or at least to where I could tell without asking directly. Confession time. I had a dream like this last night. It was different. I thought it was just due to my trauma, but now I'm thinking it is not. We are being directed. Directed to help the boy. Now...what do we do knowing this?"
An elderly woman comes out from the inn. He apron is well worn. She is holding a basket of scraps and places them in a bin in a corner of the stables. When she comes out, everyone’s stomachs grumble at the aroma of cooked sausage, baked breads, and an aromatic tea that pours out from that door. She smiles and nods as she walks back in.
Chuckling as Ewans comment about the gods sending dreams that were 'less scary' Ivar shrugged, "Der gods remind me of der old women in my village." Seeing the woman coming towards them with breakfast, he gestures her direction. "Speaking of vich." He then heads towards the stables, nodding politely to the old woman as she leaves.
Ivar heads to the bin in the corner of the stall and rallies that it is a compost bin and only scraps that she put in. The aroma was coming from the door into the inn.
"So h-hel-ping t-the boy, co-could st-stop a necro-man-cer f-from ta-king over t-the w-world?" Ewan asks incredulously as he packs up the last things and feels his stomach rumble somewhat.
He scratches his head and then shrugs.
"S-save t-the boy, s-save t-the w-world eh? If you p-put it as sim-simply as th-that, th-there is not m-much of a p-point ar-guing is th-there?"
”Dunno. World is a pretty fooked up place. If I wasn’t keeping all my things there I might not care enough.” She said, managing to more or less keep a straight face.
Realizing the old lady was only dumping scraps, Ivar returned to the group. Chuckling at Helgar's comment, he nods towards the Inn, asking. "Ve paying for breakfast or eating jerky und hardtack on der vay?"
"Well, arguing, no. We all have a choice, I'd imagine, but here we are, on another adventure, but we are getting warnings about what's to come. I'm just wondering if we should continue on after our service on this caravan and complete our planned task, or return post-haste to the city. I doubt the gods are going to make it clear...or whoever..." she voices with a slight hint of a break in her voice at the dreaded thought of someone else screwing with them.
Nodding in agreement with Merion, "Ya, der breakfast does smell good, but ve have a lot to do und limited time to do it." He gestures towards Hank, "Ve still have to sell der veapons ve collected. I vill go as Hank how soon ve are leaving town, und den decide vat to eat."
Pausing as Nempura voices her concern about returning to the city, he nods and gestures south. "Albin's secret has kept dis long, it vill keep a little longer. If you feel ve need to return to Languard I am not opposed to der idea." He smiles a wolfish smile. "Maybe ve find more bandits on der vay back."
As he continues on his way to speak wih Hank, he nears Arren, whispering "If der gods are involved perchance de can help you vit der 'becoming monsters' ya?"
Once he is done speaking with his friends Ivar approaches Hank, gesturing back towards the wagon. "Hank, ve still need to sell der good dat ve collected from der bandits. How qvuickly do you intend to have der vagons leaving town?"
Once he is done speaking with his friends Ivar approaches Hank, gesturing back towards the wagon. "Hank, ve still need to sell der good dat ve collected from der bandits. How qvuickly do you intend to have der vagons leaving town?"
Finishing pulling the straps snug on the horses, Hank turns to Ivar; "Should be an hour or so. I have two places to stop and they should not take too long. We talked the deals over a few mugs of ale last night. We'll just see if they were able to wake up." Hank climbs up on the his wagon; "Eat, go trade off what you need, and I'll have the caravan meet up with you at the eastern toll booth."
As you go in you see a half full common room, which you might find surprising at this time of day. Over by the fireplace you see two familiar faces in Albin and Findal laughing and holding on conversation with each other. Albin looks up and waves those of you on over to join them.
“Sit, eat. If we come across anything like yesterday you’ll want a belly full of warm food.” You see in the middle of the table a large board with cooked sausages, fresh sweet breads, and a few apples.
“My new friend Albin here was telling me about some ruins you will be setting off to explore. I do love spending time in the libraries of the Black Tower, there is a wealth of knowledge to be had when man puts ink to a paper. The secrets of those woods to the south are many…” Findal pauses as he things to himself; “I am on a quest of my own if you will, but if it wouldn’t be much of a bother, what would you think about an old gnome like myself coming and recording this little excursion? I would bring my own provisions and would make sure not to interfere with your exploration.” He pauses as he takes a slice of bread and meat to eat.
Albin takes a sip from his mug that is steaming, watching the group’s response.
For those who stay out with the wagons, you see people coming from the inn and with the help of the stable hand saddle their horse and set off about their day. Other than people leaving, nothing out of the ordinary takes place in the stables.
Merion, having purchased breakfast, joins Albin and Findal by the fire. Tucking into his food, he nods in agreement at Albin's statement.
It's amazing what people write down, he says in Findal's first pause, but defers to anyone else in response to his self-invitation.
The wolfish smile Ivar flashes her is not returned. Perhaps a reaction to his earlier irritation? He would definitely detect the different as she would not resist the chance to be flirty with him before and return a grin. In place, she systematically replies about the bandits, "I wouldn't mind stopping them completely and allowing trade to resume. The last thing we need is on our next journey south to be met by bandits again. If we are going to seek out and confront them on the way back to Languard, not just react to them in self-defense, then we need to work within the law or risk being put to death." She thinks for a moment. "Perhaps we should work on getting permission from the captain of the guard here before we go, to work as mercenaries? You all have breakfast and see what you can do to sell the gear. Or..." she pauses again, reconsidering, "we could just keep it until we return to Languard if you want to enjoy your meal. We'd probably get a better price in a larger city anyway?" she shrugs. "At least that's my thought. Meanwhile, I will go secure a letter of permission to confront these brigands."
Ivar perhaps can detect wary disappointment in her voice, as if she's walking on eggshells to ensure he doesn't snap again; not in fear, but in not wanting to worsen their short-lived relationship in friendship. She admired him for his readiness in battle and ferocity. He seemed to be a man capable of many great things. Now he's diminished in her eyes a little at his lack of self-control and courtesy toward an ally, particularly as he has not seemed to realize he was being snippy toward her. All in all, her reaction is subtle and not unkind. She's just not as playful as normal.
Once they go in to eat breakfast, she will ensure the guard is watching the wagons, then will go to him.
"I would like to speak to the head of the city guard, or at least whoever is on duty at this time in the morning and in charge." She then thinks it wise to clarify that she's not going to report him. "We want to gain permission from the city for a mission before we leave."
Raising an eyebrow as the normally flirtatious bard is very business-like in her observations. Nodding as she explains her thoughts, he waits until she finishes. Repeating what Hank had told them. "Hank said to meet him at de eastern toll booth in vone hour. Dat should give time enough to find Tuomi’s Outfitters und sell der 'goods' ve collected." Nodding to his friend he turns and paces back to the others and the wagon.
As he moves, he realizes he'd let his mercurial personality get the better of him. He hoped it wouldn't frighten his new companions. He had always had a temper, Blaming the strange alchemy of the creatures he hunted and been so near in his youth. Besides, a dream about your own imminent death? From the gods or not, was enough to unsettle anyone. And finding the guard asleep afterwards? The boy was lucky all he did was curse at him. Shaking his head, he had other things to deal with than worrying about one flirtatious bard's opinion. Looking over his shoulder as she walked away, he sighed hoping he had not scared her away. Comrades-in-arms were too valuable to lose.
Moving towards the wagon he told the others his intentions. "I vill take der vagon und find der shop Tuomi’s Outfitters und sell vat we cleaned." As he climbed into the wagon, he continued. "I vill breakfast at der eastern toll booth from der 'trail food' in my pack. So I vill not be breaking my fast here, is anyvone going vit me?" As he begins to leave, he reminds those who remain. "Remember ve are meeting der oder vagons in vone hour."
”I’ll ride. Between the two of us I’m sure we’ll find one way.” Helgar said. The Northman was always in such an energetic mood, which felt good to be around. She knew how down she had been ever since the event at sea, so she hoped that his spark would rub off on her. ”So, which one of us haggles the price? Mayhaps between the two of us we can find someone who can understand one of our accents.”