A caravan is set to depart from the small town of Grayce, but it needs some capable guards. It's up to the PCs to step in and ensure the caravan, and its passengers, reach their destination.
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A dark-skinned half-elf approaches the caravan master in Grayce. "Greetings, great caravan master." the half-elf states with grace and a deep, flowery bow. "I hear that you are in need of a guard for your caravan? Perhaps my intellect and my skills may be of service?"
The man unfurls a length of spiked chain that hangs from his waist. "If need be, a spar can be used to prove my usefulness."
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Quinn approached the caravan with curiosity - guard duty would not be his choice of a job, but then again his pouch was running low, and as everyone knows, the brain tends to work erratically when the stomach is empty.
The dark-skinned half-elf drew his curiosity, but Quinn was trying to be less inquisitive about other people's lives - it seems some do not take kindly to it, so he remained silent, and simply listened if any details about the job itself were forthcoming.
The adventure begins in Grayce, a town in southern Ustalav, and you have been there for a day or two. It’s lunchtime, and the only place you can find a meal is the Ash Inn.
As you approach, you find a new notice on the board by the door.
Travelers heading to Caliphas seek a group of adventurers of able body and steadfast mind to accompany them onward from Grayce. See the innkeeper, Jakivi Rindix, for more details.
As you approach the bar, you see a tall Kellid man behind the counter.
"Jakivi Rindix, how can I be of service? If it's about the bounty on the door, there have been some recent attacks on supply caravans travelling between Grayce and the port city of Caliphas. The drivers of a caravan scheduled to leave this afternoon have asked me to arrange for some protection. The caravan is offering to provide whoever takes the job all meals for the three-day journey and a hefty sum upon their safe arrival in Caliphas." He looks at you speculatively.
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A stocky but strong elf in a shining breastplate, holding a heavy dwarven war axe mounted on his shoulder and a steel shield enters the inn and approaches the innkeeper.
"Greetings, good sir. I am Basag Bungo and I just found and read what is posted over there as I enter your humble place. And hefty sum, you say? How much are we talking here?" he asks the innkeeper while seeking around the place for something peculiar.
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"These two men have the right of it." the elvish man states. "Remuneration is the highest of priorities, especially given the... lack of information on potential problems."
Stowing his spiked chain at the arrival of the two others, Lucy continues his enrollment in the caravan guard. "If you could provide any information on the dangers facing this trek, then we would feel much more at ease with our task."
Lucy will wait until after he is confirmed to be a caravan guard to introduce himself to the others.
"Rowr"
"chuffles"
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"I know, Scouty, we'll be out of the city soon and back to Absalom. What's this? Caravan guards, eh? Let's check it out. No reason why we shouldn't find work on our way back."
A half elven woman and her tiger companion enter the inn and find the other Pathfinders already at the bar, plying the barkeep with questions.
"Greetings all, I'm asking about the sign... Heather Brightflower is what I'm called. This," she says, pointing to the young feline beside her, " is Scout, my loyal companion."
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Lucy raises his eyebrow and smirks. "Come now, good fellow. That cannot be all that has been told to you. Surely one such as yourself has some more information that needs to be given." he states as he toys with the leather-wrapped handle of his whip, before setting it down and letting it clank against the hardwood of the bar. "Are these really all the details you can provide? Seems like the notice could have said that and you would be unnecessary. Are you unnecessary, Rindix? Unnecessary things usually aren't missed."
Fixing his eyes on Heather, he says "I heard that undead soldiers ambushed a similar caravan less than a week ago. You lot seem more capable than the guards who went with them, but, you know, it's worry."
He then gives you directions to the stable on the edge of town where the caravan is getting ready to set off and he wishes you safe travels.
Anyone who wishes can give me a Religion or Society check to Recall Knowledge.
You all recall that dense fog often blankets the roads in southern Ustalav, making it hard to see who else may be lurking nearby. Both skeletons and zombies are known to wander the border roads, patrolling on behalf of the Whispering Tyrant and attacking any travellers they come across.
You make your way to the stables mentioned and it's hard to miss the eclectic group of travellers you see gathered there.
Two half-orcs joke with one another as they load supplies into two wagons, each with a team of jet-black horses. The half-orcs are nearly identical down to the stripes on their shirts, though one has her long black hair gathered into a ponytail and the other keeps his cropped short.
The female half-orc greets you.
"I'm Andri Graghol and this is Arek, my brother. Did Jakivi send you?"
Andri chuckles "It's 4 gold each plus food and tent space. More than reasonable if you ask me. Attacks are quite rare, but it's more down to bad luck than poor judgement if you run into the undead. It's a fact of life 'round here that you might run into them."
The twins seem to be loading cured meats, cheese and books onto the wagons.
In addition to the goods, the caravan has three passengers. As you prepares to leave, they introduce themselves in turn and climb
into the coaches.
First is a half-orc in flowing academic robes,
"Xanthus Shurgun, faculty member at the University of Lepidstadt. I'm travelling to Caliphas by way of the countryside so that I can better
understand the agricultural conditions along the border of the Gravelands.
Behind him is a stocky dwarf,
"Eigil Jorgund. Farmer. I'm heading into Caliphas to speak with some marketplace vendors. Lots of them have lost business due to the perilous roads."
Last is a tall Varisian woman dressed in a colourful patchwork skirt, its pattern seeming to have no beginning or end.
"Kisaya Sitari. I'm just a seamstress in search of new fabrics and colours to improve my selection of adornments for my work. Who are you, if you don't mind me asking?"
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"Well met to you lady and gentlemen" - Quinn bowed - "It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Quinn, and I am a scholar, a traveler, and even though I would not have the pretense of speaking in the name of my companions, I think you can call us all... Adventurers?" - he smiled, and looked at the others.
"Rowr"
Scout stays close to Heather, unsure what to make of the new smells.
The first day passes largely uneventfully, and the travellers are happy to converse with the you all as you journey through the forest. As the sun starts to set, the drivers pull into a clearing to make camp for the night. As the members of the caravan begin cookingthe evening meal and setting up camp, you hear an argument arise between Xanthus the scholar and the farmer Eigil over which is more important: the knowledge of how to cultivate crops, or the physical skills of planting and harvesting.
It seemed to start off good-natured but is quickly heating up as each begins to feel that the other is dismissing the importance of their contributions.
Andri whispers to you "We need to not attract unwanted attention when we stop to rest."
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Quinn is naturally drawn to the discussion - his scholar side naturally pushes him to try and assist in clarifying the merits inherent to the knowledge of how to cultivate crops, and which species exactly are the best for specific types of terrain.
”Apologies for barging in, but it so happens I have just recently come across a book on seed mutation, wherein I read an interesting passage detailing the...” - he tends to go on and on.
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Lucidity, hearing the warning, quickly develops a scowl. "Was the warning about undead patrolling the area lost on you lot? Do you intend to take your argument to the grave because I can save the shamblers the trouble!" He whisper-yells at the pair as Quinn attempts to diffuse the situation. "I will not die for your idiocy!" He adds to the pair, hoping they settle down.
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"I used to live before in the mountains but on the rocky side of the mountains before I became a private guard for a wealthy family, but you know, I think you need strength when you plant and harvest crops 'coz you need to cultivate the land by tilling the ground, and it is hard to do if you're not used to it," Basag reasons to the arguing passengers.
Despite your best efforts, the argument lasts for a few more minutes - though mostly in 'whisper-yells', then they both storm off to the edges of the camp.
Arek approaches you shortly afterwards.
"I presume you have a plan for watches through the night? Let me know in a couple of minutes. We all need to get some good sleep."
Scout says nothing, but looks a little ashamed of himself. His fur is slightly red from the poison ivy but there are also streaks of mud where Heather managed to remove the oils causing him pain. Still, he sticks close to Heather and chuffles.
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"I will volunteer for the middle watch. We should divide the watches by three." Lucy offers to the group, sorting it out effectively and quickly.
"First watch can be Heather and Scout as they will spot or smell anything following us. Second will be myself as I can hide easily in the dark. Quinn will handle the morning watch because he is the last volunteer. Basag, that means you are preparing breakfast." Lucy concludes as the easiest answer.
"This also means that I don't need to listen to the bickering of these idiots..." he mutters so that only the guards (aka the party) can hear.
Each of you except for Heather hears crackling leaves and a faint howl repeatedly through your watch. It is quite distant but definitely not a figment of your imagination.
It is drizzly and damp the next morning and spirits are low in the camp.
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"Scouty's fine now. He's not normally this careless though." Heather's hands are full of mud as she rubs the areas of his fur to remove the oils causing her friend pain.
"Good, good - how do you come to friendship with such a... Wild creature?" - the inquisitive man continues - "I mean, if you do not mind me asking"
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The next morning, in spite of the weather, Quinn wakes up in a good mood, as usual - "Did you also hear some sort of rustling around the camp last night? And some yapping or howling?" - he asks his companions as they get ready to break camp.
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Lucidity is quick and efficient to pack up his gear and load it into the caravan, save his essentials. "The sounds of the night are always troublesome." Lucy states as he secures his spiked chain to his waist.
"Howling and cracking leaves? Could be anything. If it was truly terrifying, we would not hear anything." he surmises. "When is this caravan leaving? What is taking Arek so long?"
The day continues to be drizzly and damp. You all occasionally hear sounds in the woods, such as snapping twigs, wind through the leaves, and the faint groaning of trees - or perhaps creatures. At one point, the seamstress, Kisaya, startles the other travellers when she stops and says “be quiet and listen! There’s someone sobbing out there.”
Nobody else hears anything, and there’s nothing to find. Kisaya laughs off the incident, but she sticks close to Heather for the rest of the day and frequently glances over her shoulder.
A few hours after your midday rest, after you are back on the road, an alarmed whinny comes from the pair of lead horses as the caravan comes to a dead stop.
Unsurprisingly, you investigate why and find that the horses froze because the bridge over a small ravine ahead has been completely washed out.
Arek shouts from his seat "Is there anything you can do to help? It's taking all mine and Andri's efforts to keep the horses from spooking and sprinting off into the forest. They're really jittery today."
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Lucy looks at the seamstress, who seems to be freaking out about voices that only she can hear, and the caravan leader who is poor at even handling his horses. "I did not realize that guard duty meant dealing with incompetents." he sighs to himself as he moves to investigate the washed out bridge.
Looking over the ridge to look down into the ravine, Lucy will take stock of the situation to see if there are any materials or other paths that might be obvious.
"I'm not a bloody architect. What does this man think we will be able to do here? Build a bridge with only four people?" he asks to the air, safely away from the prying ears of the caravaners.