Soon after Guthlag's food is before him, as well as a LARGE mug of water.Why weren't the rest of us told about this.
Soon after Guthlag's food is before him, as well as a LARGE mug of water.Why weren't the rest of us told about this.
"Fairhill you say." Hamish says once Guthlag finally gets his order squared away. "A fair hike for sure, but not too far. We can stick mostly to the Tradeway for a good portion of the journey. I've spent most of my time south on the Armin rather than up Fairhill way, but the Tradeway gets plenty of use so it should be fairly easy going. Good road with inns or descent campsites at least until we have to cut off toward the actual tower." Hamish says attempting to plot out the route in his mind and trying to think of anything he'd heard recently regarding bandits or other dangers reported west of the city.
"No conjuring," Guthlag agrees, hands still extended palm out in a gesture of tranquility. When his food comes he eats well past the point of fullness, determined to build up his fat reserves before the end of autumn.
------
"How will we show that we are not a marauding band of robbers?" Guthlag asks, the memory of his own journey across the Tradeway all too fresh in his mind.
Most of these encounters are with mundane wild animals, with only occasional hostilities required to drive off the beasts. Skirmishes with humanoids are always a risk, and the closer to the Stoneheart Mountains one goes, the more likely they are to occur. Gnolls and orcs breed in the foothills around the Stonehearts, and rumors of increased monstrous activity have made their way to the city.
Thankfully, the trade roads to and from Bard’s Gate are usually free of most trouble, although bandit attacks still occur. Troops from the Duchy of Waymarch and Bard’s Gate alike make getting caught attacking caravans a one-time offense; these soldiers are all battle-hardened, and do not take a kindly view towards those preying on the city’s livelihood. If they do allow bandits to survive a caravan attack, they are beaten mercilessly all the way to the Keep’s donjon.
'So the church isn't all love and charity?' Nodding politely at Elgrin's answer, Naomi keeps her opinions of the church to herself. Instead, she focuses on Hamish description of the Tradeway, rolling her eyes as Alec stutters through asking Guthlag not to conjure. 'Doesn't he know the good bards are conjuring almost the whole time their performing?'
She turned to see how Guthlag would respond to the 'no conjuring' request and watched as she could see the half orcs mental gears turning. Raising an eyebrow, when he's concerned that they may be mistaken for marauders, she reaches down and pats Thistle, remembering he had a pet wolf as well. She smiles, keeping a straight face. "That's where Thistle and Cann are helpful. Everyone knows wolves don't associate with known criminals." She cocks her head and maintains her smile for just a second, then winks. Hearing her name, Thistle looks up, giving a light woof, letting Naomi know that she'd like to go outside.
Turning back to the halfling, "I hate to break up the party, but my wolf has to pee. Is there anything else we should know, like where and when are we meeting in the morning, before I head outside?"
Gubble has been quietly listening to the discussion and banter trying to control a contented smile. All had agreed, for reasons of their own, but still...
The ending of the initial meeting, one that should be cataloged just in case, is swiftly coming so he pulls himself out of his delightment, and answers a few quick questions. "I'd prefer to keep sponsors of any kind out of this endeavor for as long as we can. Aid from an institution usually comes with strings, quite often ones that we cannot see." he quickly gives a time and place for the meeting (the place being here since they already all know it, the time being as early as he thinks he can make it without too many groans, since everyone knows Groans grow as they pile up on each other, best to avoid them too soon).
"Have a pleasant evening Naomi, and you as well Ms. Thistle. May you find the perfect bush." he beams at the two "I will be sitting here a bit if there are any additional questions or concerns. Though I wager any spare seating will be gobbled up now that fate is done with it."
"I'm going to pick up a few things at the market." Hamish says as Naomi excuses herself from the table. "A pleasure meeting you all and I look forward to a fruitful journey upon the morrow." He adds with a flourish of his hat before spending the next hour or two gathering various items for such a journey and exploration. The most important of which is the folding ten foot pole. An item his old sergant used to say was The most important piece of gear you'll ever carry after your sword. Good for pokin', triggering from a distance, vaulting across chasms, finding hidden pits. More versatile and useful than an entire squad of you greenhorn rooks."
| 3 people marked this as a favorite. |
Rising from his seat, "In the morning. Will be here, Mr. Gubble," he nods, leaving a gold coin on the table before nodding to the rest of them and taking his leave.
Jalros will return to his place of residence which is a small flat just big enough for one person. All of the furnishings he possesses are just enough to suit him. To have guests over would be quite crowded and they'd have nowhere to sit. He keeps it so orderly and clean, it's almost as if the place is "staged". If one didn't know any better, you'd think this is definitely a 'show apartment'.
Moving into the bedroom, he gathers up his gear and methodically places it off to the side next to his bed. Having dealt with that, Jalros leaves and heads to work to talk to his boss.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Arriving at Bard's College tavern, Jalros heads straight for his boss's office with a sense of purpose. Knocking on the door, "Come in!" his boss calls out and Jalros enters.
Stepping in and closing the door, he stands there with his hands clasped in front of him and at attention. "Sir, I just want to inform you I'm taking some time off. Not exactly sure how long I'll be gone but you'll know it when I get back," he simply explains.
Looking quite disturbed at the notion, "But, Jalros, you can't just take off now. Didn't I give you time off last month? I'm sure I did."
"No, sir. I've never taken a day off in five years, sir," he responds plainly.
Looking quite confused, "Really? Five years? My gosh, man... really? Wow, I never realized that." He scratches his chin in deep thought, wondering if that's really true. Looking up at the burly man, "What do you do for fun, Jalros? If you've been working five straight years, when do you have time to enjoy life?"
Now Jalros himself looks a bit confused. Unsure of how to answer that question, "Fun, sir? I guess having a beer would be it, sir."
With an incredulous look about him, "A beer? That's your idea of fun?" Shaking his head and grinning, "Okay, Jalros, off with you then. But if you still want this job when you return, you'd better come back with a tale that involved some type of 'fun' that doesn't involve 'having a beer', do you understand?" he asks, grinning slightly.
Jalros contemplates that a moment before nodding and simply replying with, "Sir," before turning and taking his leave.
The figure of a bird catches your attention - about the size of a crow, it stands on the outside of one of the glass stained windows. Strangely, it seems to be doing nothing - not picking at some unseen insect, not grooming itself, nothing apart from slowly turning its head from one side to the other... After a few moments it simply flies away, and you could almost swear you saw a glimpse of a minuscule red flash as it took flight? But that doesn't make any sense, does it?
'Maybe he's shyer than I thought.' Surprised that Jalros didn't have some sort of comment about her 'watching his six' Naomi mentally shrugs. Standing up as Gubble tells her to 'have a pleasant evening' She nods to their sponsor as Thistle hearing her name looks to the halfling wagging her tail and giving a gentle 'woof.' Seeing Hamish rise as well, she nods to him. "Have a good night Hamish." Turning back to the table, speaking to the others. "I'll see you boys in the morning."
Moving towards the proprietor, she calls out, "Hey Alec." She reaches into her skirt pocket and pulls out two silver pieces and two coppers, saying a quick prayer as the large man approached. "Here's your tax. I need a place to stay tonight. I'm taking Thistle for a walk and stretching my legs. If I come back and play till closing, what kind of a discount will you give me on your cheapest bed for the night. I don't care if it's in a common room." She points towards the fireplace, "Or a pallet in front of the fire. I just need a place to crash for one night."
"Hmmmm... I cannot allow you to sleep right here on the floor Miss Naomi" - Alec ponders with a raised eyebrow - "This is not a place where you come to 'crash for the night' as you youngsters now say. For that you should head down to Tent City or some such" - the man adds, putting the coins into his apron's front pouch and shaking his head- "But I can let you use the cot in the storage room. Free of charge" - he winks - "Might even find a big bone for your dog... Er... Wolf... Er... Pet. What do you think?"
'Thank the Lady of the Moon.' A little nervous as the business owner starts out, Naomi is relieved when the words 'cot and free of charge' came out of his mouth. Without thinking, she popped up on her tippy toes and innocently kissed Alec on the cheek. "Thanks Alec, your the best." Moving towards the door, she calls back. "We'll be right back."
Taking Thistle outside, Naomi walked in the moonlight, letting her wolf run off a little energy. Once they both were ready she headed back into the tavern. Seeing the chairs all filled, she grabbed a barstool. Again heading over near the fireplace, she pushed her gear behind the stool and dropped the dark grey wide brimmed wool hat on the ground. Tuning her lute quickly she began to play.
As the crowd slowly left, there were a couple of fellows who headed over to invite Naomi to leave with them. But when Thistle, seemingly smelling their intent, looked up at them and showed her teeth, they decided it wasn't worth the risk.
Having played till everyone left Naomi helped clean up a little. Grabbing a rag and wiping off tables and placing the chairs on top. As the waitress, sweeping the floor thanked her, she shrugged, smiling. "It just seemed like the right thing to do." As the last of the closing crew began to leave, she headed to the storage room. Finding the cot and a large soup bone there, Naomi went to sleep to the sound of Thistle happily crunching on the bone.
Time: Thingsdag, 19th of Mithrond, 8am
Even at an arguably early time of day, many people are already making themselves busy, and going about their lives all over the Grocer's Plaza - your agreed upon meeting place. From there you will easily gain access to the Market Way, allowing you to exit Bard's Gate via the Market Gate, and across the Stable Row, following the road southwest.
The Grocer's Plaza itself consists of open air markets trading in fresh fruits and vegetables, eggs, cheeses, and dried meats. The Plaza is ringed by bakeries and butcher shops and the 'Paasha’s Pillow', a restaurant whose claim to fame is having the freshest food in all of Bard’s Gate. The claim may very well be true, as the foodstuffs prepared there are bought directly from the Grocers Plaza and seasoned with spices from the Spiced Seed in Tent City.
Elgrin wakes early and goes to the Church for morning prayers.
After that, he goes to the market to load up on traveling rations. But breakfast is from the Paasha's Pillow.
A final good meal before setting off on the road with travel rations
And then he arrives early at the designated meeting point waiting for the others, eager to hit the road
The halfling moves into the plaza. One hand has an open book with lots scribbles all over the page, which he is reviewing as he walks. The other hand has three sticks tied together with twine, each are ended with a dried sausage dipped in a yellowish glaze. Two already have nibbles out of it.
Though he is reading while walking, he is managing to avoid the street traffic, until he arrives at the meeting place and bumps into Elgrin. "Oh, good morning, Elgrin. You were hiding in the open there, I see." he smiled up at the young man. "Are you ready to take the first step toward the rest of your life?" he asks mildly.
Hamish arrives whistling a cheerful riverfolk tune between bites of a still steaming huckleberry sweetbread. The morning light dances upon his feathered hat and dark traveling clothes and even manages to create a sparkle in his eyes as he spots Gubble and Elgrin already waiting.
The smell of hot coffee drifts from a flask when as he unscrews the top and takes a careful sip.
"Ahhh..." Is all the sound he makes for a moment as the drink warms his insides and sets clears the lingering morning fog from his mind.
"Good morning friends." He says adjusting the pack on his shoulders and taking another sip from the flask. "At least I'm not the last to arrive. The line at The Rolling Pin was excruciatingly long this morning, but Millicent has some of the best sweet rolls and bread in the entire city. And her coffee alone is worth a days wait if need be."
Jalros arrives exactly fifteen minutes before the appointed time. Nodding to those who have already arrived, he double checks his gear. Noticing everything to be in order, he sits and waits patiently.
Though he is reading while walking, he is managing to avoid the street traffic, until he arrives at the meeting place and bumps into Elgrin. "Oh, good morning, Elgrin. You were hiding in the open there, I see." he smiled up at the young man. "Are you ready to take the first step toward the rest of your life?" he asks mildly.
The young warrior smiles Well... I spent the last year taking care of Sir Gerald. I was happy to do it mind you. Twas an honour to take care of a devoted servant of The Lords in his last days. Besides, no way was I letting anyone but me take care of me Da. His eyes glisten briefly but quickly he composes himself
But now I just need to do SOMETHING. So yes, I am ready for that first step Mr. GubbleAnd with that Hamish arrives sipping his coffee. Don't know how you drink that stuff. Elgrin hasn't developed a taste for coffee and doubts he ever will. But whatever it takes to get your morning started as me Da used to say as he shakes the swashbuckler's hand in welcome
and nods respectfully back at Jalros when he arrives
Gubble seems rather pleased with Elgrin's response.
Hamish arrives before he could ask more details about Sir Gerald, backstory is important for chronicles. He becomes distracted by the name "Millicent?" Gubble says it to remember "Oh, yes. She has a lovely smile. Her dimples practically make it explode into being when she graces you with one."
Jalros doesn't seem the type for morning banter, but Gubble welcomes him anyway "Good Morning, Jalros. Did you get all your affairs in order for a long trip?"
As is her habit, Naomi wakes with the dawn. Rolling out of the cot, she remembered he events from the evening before. Looking at down at Thistle, as she rubbed her eyes, "come on girl, we need to get to the Grocer's Plaza." The wolf raising her head, Voiced her opinion about getting up Shouldering her pack she wondered if she shouldn't have slept in her own bed and had the boys swing by on their way out of town. Shaking her head, she knew staying away had been the best thing. She had started her adventure, no going back. She headed out the door of the storage room calling Thistle. "Stop whining, we need to go." Pausing long enough to pick up the soup bone Alec had left, Thistle trotted after her pet.
As Naomi walked through the kitchen she picked up a loaf of brown crusty bread and a hunk of cheese, stopping long enough 'out front' where Alec was preparing for the day. Emptying her pocket of the rest of the tips she'd earned the night before, she waives to the Owner. "This should cover the bread and cheese and leave a little left over. We really appreciate you letting us stay in the back." She gives a light smile. "I don't think I could bear telling my family 'good bye' again." Turning and waiving again as she headed out the door, Naomi and Thistle head towards the Plaza.
finding herself at the market earlier than the meeting time, Naomi browsed the shops as they opened; eating the brown crusty bread and occasionally passing a piece to Thistle. Which created a conundrum for the wolf. Who would eventually drop the bone to take the bread, quickly wolfing down the bread and just as quickly picking the bone back up. Realizing they would be on the trail for a while, Naomi decided to purchase more food for herself and Thistle just in case. After visiting a couple more shops she was ready; more dried fruit, cheese, trail biscuits and dried meat for herself and plenty of dried meat for Thistle.
Seeing the big bouncer moving through the crowd, Naomi follows him, chuckling at the idea of 'watching his six' Seeing Jalros approaching the others, checking his gear and taking a seat, Naomi smiled. They were all there, ready and waiting. That was a good sign. She had intended to be on time, but assumed someone would be late. It was nice to see they all exceeded her expectations. Chuckling at herself, realizing they weren't very high expectations. She looked down at Thistle, "What do you think girl? A bunch of men and none of them late. Is that a good sign or what?" The wolf, having the large soup bone in her mouth, just looked at Naomi, not wanting to drop the bone to 'woof.'
Walking through the crowd, approaching the table behind the bouncer, Naomi hears Gubble's question. Realizing, that walking up behind the big man and laying a hand on his shoulder might not be the smartest of ideas, she pokes the back of his chair with her staff instead. "Yes Jalros, did you?"
Once again, Guthlag is late. He had stopped by a store to buy more rations and gotten lost. He carries a pack this time, with a long war scythe strapped to one side, and he wears a dagger. He smells faintly of cured meats. The memories of his morning meditation in the woods are fading quickly in the city. He walks up just as Naomi is poking Jalros.
Folding his arms, the half orc waits patiently to hear the response. His wolf Cann is still nowhere to be seen.
Time: Thingsdag, 19th of Mithrond, 9am
As the gathered group steps through the Market Gate, they are outside the proper walls of Bard's Gate. Not that there is much difference in the amount of activity just outside the city walls - there is actually a long line of travellers, mostly merchants, wanting to gain ingress into the metropolis, and waiting for the city officials to go about the proper procedures.
Going the opposite way, you find less resistance and are able to easily go through Stable Row. Its name is well deserved - a location where caravans and travelers can leave their mounts and wagons and also negotiate for new ones, this area also features a number of inns and taverns that cater to travelers who don’t have time to stay in Bard’s Gate proper.
This is the gateway to the wild lands beyond, and a number of small farmsteads and stockyards are located nearby. The area is somewhat lawless, and is a scene of horse racing and gambling, with a dirt racetrack that brings gamblers from all around the Lyre Valley and town itself, 'to bet on the ponies'.
Past Stable Row, The Tradeway opens up before you, running all the way from the western city of Reme, to the port of Freegate in the east since the early days of the Hyperborean Empire and providing a much-needed travel route that does not require a detour down through the heart of the empire itself. Since the completion of the bridge over the Stoneheart River and eventual rise of Bard’s Gate at that location, its importance has only increased over time. The road bed was originally built of large stones back in Hyperborea’s heyday, and its continued straight route and good condition can undoubtedly be attributed to the quality of work that was done. In many places along its length, the ancient pavers still form the traveling surface of the road and provide a smooth ride for beast of burden and wagons alike.
Open roads can be daunting, but not to the likes of you - resolute and determined adventurers. Not even the unusually cold and overcast weather will diminish your spirits as you move away from the busy outskirts of Bard's Gate, and into the untamed and dangerous wilderness of the Stoneheart Valley.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Hamish sipped his coffee listening to the others banter back and forth as they all gathered and completed final preparations for the journey ahead.
When they make their way down Stable Row, the Arkaji's eyes keep roving past the various horses, donkeys, dogs, mules, and more exotic mounts. Finally a smile rolls across his face and he waves to a young lad exercising a mule in a small corral. The lad is fourteen at the most and handles the long eared gray mule with practiced ease.
Seeing Hamish wave, the boy steers for the ex-Riverguard.
"You interested in somethin' mister? Oh, hey there Hamish, how's Mag's" The boy asks obviously recognizing the Arkaji as he tugs on the slightly too large shirt with the big red and silver triple M surrounded by a horseshoe embroidered on front and back. The symbol clearly marking him as an employee of Mulvaney's Mules and More. The same symbol that hangs over the nearby stable entrance.
Owned by one Ricky Mulvaney, the triple M is known by many folks in the city for providing decent mounts and beasts of burden at reasonable prices. What is also well known is that Ricky tends to employ orphans and other young street kids. Workin' with the animals is good for the little lads and lassies. Teaching em responsibility and a trade while earning a wage as well. He was once quoted in the Beholder.
As part of her own work with the war orphan's society, Maggie had set up more than a few kids into Mulvaney's service. So far, things had worked out well all around.
"She's as fine and bossy as ever young Wes." Hamish says with a laugh and smile for the boy. "But say, I'm heading on a bit of a journey and could use a good mule to help carry a bit of gear and goods. What about that one you have there?"
The boy, Wes, shakes his head. "Oh no." He says warily. "Rowdy here is already taken. Buyer'll be around later today to get him. Besides he takes a bit of handlin' and don't take well to canines." He adds eyes glancing at Thistle standing not so far away.
"Well I place myself within your capable hands, young Wes. Make sure she's strong of heart and stout of foot. And within a limited budget, if you know what I mean."
"Right'o Hamish. I'll be back in a bit. I've got just the one for ya."
With that the lad grins and dashes off leaving the Rowdy to his own devices within the confines of the corral. After a few minutes Wes returns trailing a long-earred gray mule with speckles of white creeping up from her belly and a bit of gray around her nose and cheeks. Big brown eyes blink and gaze upon Hamish with benevolent disinterest until Wes starts to hand him the reins.
"Her name is Snowbell." The boys says. "I've loaded some extra apples and sugar in the saddle pack. She's a good one sir. Can bit a bit stubborn about moving water, but she won't balk much at dogs 'n such."
"Thanks lad. She'll work out just fine I'm sure." Hamish says counting out the coins from his now nearly empty purse.
The boy tips his head in thanks. "Thanks for doing business with Mulvaney's Mules." He says cheerfully and starts to turn away before swinging back quickly. "Remember, no refunds."
Watching the boy return to his work, Hamish proceeds to transfer several items from his bulky pack into the mules.
"Plenty of room here if any of you wish to lighten your load for the journey." He says, giving Snowbell a gentle pat on the neck. She gives a derisive snort at having to take on more weight. Her mind already betting on how many days before the group of would be heroes gets themselves killed. This, after all, would be her seventh trip outside of the city. The previous six all ending with her wandering back to the realm of human civilization with its warm stables and steady meals. Her previous owner's nothing more than food for the worms, grasses and forests of the valley.
"I've got a good feeling about you Snowbell. You're gonna be our lucky charm." Hamish says slicing up one of the apples and feeding it to the mule as he leads her out of the city behind the others.
Jalros doesn't seem the type for morning banter, but Gubble welcomes him anyway "Good Morning, Jalros. Did you get all your affairs in order for a long trip?"
Looking to the halfling as if looking through him, he mentally double checks everything that needed to be taken care of before responding with, "Yes, sir."
Walking through the crowd, approaching the table behind the bouncer, Naomi hears Gubble's question. Realizing, that walking up behind the big man and laying a hand on his shoulder might not be the smartest of ideas, she pokes the back of his chair with her staff instead. "Yes Jalros, did you?"
Turning to see who is poking the back of his chair, he looks to Naomi a moment, seemingly to be studying her in a way as if trying to figure her out. "I did, Naomi," he finally responds and in a somewhat 'normal' manner.
Guthlag approaches Snowbell gently, turning his back to her as he reached her head so that it was just beside him and the two were facing the same direction. He scratches her gently under the chin, moving backwards until he reaches her withers, which he scratches too. He blows air into her nostrils, and she blows back into his. And then Hamish begins slicing an apple, and she rudely blows past him to go have a bite. Guthlag's lips twist into a thin smile. "I shall store half my own supply of food, just five pounds," he tells Hamish, and begins working the saddlebags.
After his food is stored, Guthlag reaches into his pack and pulls out a gold coin and a fistful of silvers. "Since your mule will carry all of our burdens, it is only fair that we share the cost."
When they reach the true edge of town, past the crowds and shops and bustle, Guthlag reaches out with both arms, smiling deeply. He fills his lungs full of air, closing his eyes and reaching...reaching. Out in the distance, a dark figure could be seen running. As it drew closer, you could see that it was a wolf. Its grey brindled fur was blown back by the wind as it loped closer, picking up speed. She halted about fifty feet away from the party, her hackles raised, her ears up and pointed at Thistle. "Cann, down!" The wolf lay on her belly and waited, watching intently. "Thistle can greet Cann by your will," he told Naomi.
Gubble had calculated his weight perfectly, storing everything just in its place. "I appreciate the offer, Hamish, but recalculating at the moment would be too much." the halfling says "Snowbell the strong, the steady, and the potentially obstinate, is a very good addition to our Band." he stops and corrects "Temporary group traveling together for mutual gain, I mean." said with pleasant mirth instead of annoyance
When Cann arrives, he asks Guthlag "Has she grown? Stunningly so I mean and not in girth."
'There's always one,' Rolling her eyes as Guthlag walked up after her, Naomi realized she had totally forgotten who all was going with them. Mentally shrugging, she raised an eyebrow at Jalros' straight-laced response. She watched him for a moment trying to figure him out, then asks the others. "If you boys are done eating breakfast can we get going? We're burning daylight."
As they approached Muvaney's Naomi realized Hamish was going to stop and talk to the boy. Giving a light smile, 'He hasn't changed much, Mag's always said he 'doesn't know a stranger.' While Hamish speaks with the boy about mule, Naomi leans on a fence post while Thistle lays down and continues chewing the bone she had brought from the 'tavern.' When Hamish purchases the second mule and offers to let them use space on the pack saddle, Noami shrugs nodding over towards Gubble, "Thistle and I have our stuff squared away, but thank you." Hearing her name Thistle looked up from the bone, but didn't get up until the group started moving again. Picking up the bone she followed along.
Watching as Cann revealed herself, Naomi looked from the familiar wolf to Guthlag, Thistle standing near, bone in mouth. Naomi shrugs. "It's really up to Thistle, but I think she's more interested in her bone."
Guthlag nods at Naomi and then barks something out to Cann in orcish. She gets up quickly and bounds towards Thistle, greeting her somewhat rudely but avoiding her bone. Cann is slightly taller and broader than the oracle's wolf.
"Grown? Stunningly?" Guthlag is unsure what Gubble is asking. "She has not stopped growing since I became her guardian, and I have heard that when one blessed by the magics of the world is the caretaker of such a creature, it can grow to nearly the size of a horse." He inspects her carefully. Can has a small cut on the top of her head, dried blood crusted in her fur. Brambles and thorns are tangled in the fur of her flanks. After a few quick pets, Guthlag resumes walking. Cann stays close, and when she strays, Guthlag yells out at her in orcish to keep up.
Your first day of travel is mostly calm - along the way you cross paths with all sorts of travellers - from well guarded merchant caravans, to other adventuring groups in many ways similar to your own, to the occasional Waymark footmen or cavalry patrol. Some of these hail and greet you, others ignore you, while still others observe you carefully as you pass them by. None are overly friendly however.
As time drifts by, you allow yourself a leisurely pace which accommodates Gubble, and makes for a pleasant traveling experience, with the sun even peeking behind some clouds. Cann remains closer to the group, while Thistle bolts more often, in chase of something you usually do not spot.
The travel day begins approaching its end, and you start paying more attention to your surroundings, looking for potential areas to settle down and rest. As you do so, yet another caravan approaches from the opposite direction.
Hamish walks along the well traveled road occasionally offering a wave of greeting or simple polite greeting as others pass by on the journey. As promised, Snowbell seems relatively unperturbed by the presence of Thistle and Cann, although she does her best to give them as wide a berth as possible.
Relaxed, enjoying the open country and fresh occasionally sun-warmed air, it isn't until the caravan is nearly passed them that Hamish starts to notice something odd.
Picking up his pace a bit, he catches up with Gubble. "Have you noticed that caravan seem to be slowing down as they pass us?" He asks the halfling quietly, while looking to see what might make them stand out. A couple of orc-bloods, a halfling, a trio of humans. A pair of big wolves and a pack pony. Not really noticing anything out of the ordinary, he leans in again. "Seems a bit odd given we certainly aren't the only group of folk seeking adventure on the Tradeway today."
Moving along with Thistle beside her, Naomi kept a keen eye out. Not so much for danger, but for things that reminded her of other times. Her family would head this way when they went to visit her grandparents. Usually they'd take a buggy with a few things packed in the trunk. Walking didn't take all that much longer and she enjoyed being out away from the city.
As she saw the approaching caravan it struck her as odd. It wasn't just that it slowed down, travelers will often do that to make sure they've left plenty of space on the road. It was something else. She paused to listen, realizing it was the absence of the normal sounds. Usually caravans are noisy, people shouting orders or talking to each other, dogs barking. She didn't hear any of those things. As she looked at some of the folks she noticed some of them even had weapons drawn.
Seeing Hamish move to pick up his pace to catch up with Gubble, Naomi went to the other side to avoid the mules rear legs, she heard Shamish saying about something seeming odd, she asked, "Are you talking about how silent the caravan approaching us is or the fact that some of them have weapons drawn?" When she said the last part, she said it loud enough that Elgrin, Guthlag and Jalros could hear her.
Narrowing his eyes as he carefully watches the slow-moving caravan, "Both," Jalros responds to Naomi's statement, putting himself on high alert. "Potential trouble. Stay frosty." Jalros watches and waits to see what the caravan does, scouting to see where he should strike first if combat is imminent.
"Hmm..." Gubble listens, adjusting his glasses, and then stops to retrieve a wrapped bundle from his pack. "How many can you see? Is it a fight we can win? Accepting of course that any battle could go either way with luck's favor or disfavor." he sounds both a combination of warm and logical, an odd combination indeed. He does continue on as he leaves the more martial of their members to calculate and weigh. "If they are indeed intent of attacking us, our options are to detour around them, hoping we do not trigger their malice. Or confront them, not for glory but both in hopes dealing with them head-on is worth the risk over the fact they might double back and try to kill us while we sleep, And to make sure they do not prey on another less prepared group." he unfurrows a flag, unadorned as of yet, but bristling with potential. "Thoughts?" he gives a look to each of their members, even the four legged ones.
"Exact numbers? Unknown, sir. Per your second question: Yes," he responds matter-of-factly. The brawler never takes his eyes off the caravan, waiting for them to make the first move.
As everyone begins to warn about the potential for incoming danger the oblivious paladin wakes from his daydream. Something utterly ridiculous about going toe to toe with an evil dragon.
huh...weapons?
Let's give them plenty of space. They might just be overly wary from bad experiences on the road. Let's not give them any cause for concern. BUT, if after we give them plenty of space it looks like they want to fight then they're likey a bandit band and it's better for us to handle them than some less able caravan.
'Stay frosty? I wonder if that's a drink reference from the bar.' Looking from the big bruiser to the little wizard, Naomi asks, "Hey boys, I could be wrong here, but don't most bandits sneak up on people on the road, not trapse down it in broad daylight?" She gestures towards them, "Maybe we should talk to them first before we decide to 'confront them'?"
"It is not exactly broad daylight, Naomi. See how the gloom comes as the sun rides low?" Guthlag crosses his arms. It was suspicious that a group would suddenly appear late in the day, carrying weapons and walking silently. "Saying they are bandits, why would they attack us? We have little gold, few valuables, and we can fight. They have little to gain and much to lose." The half orc stares at the road ahead implacably. "I say we talk, just as Naomi does."
For Naomi, it is hard to glean much from the approaching band of strangers, having had no actual interaction with them at all so far.
She can make out at least three covered wagons, and perhaps what could be a fourth, but this one without any cover. Each of them seems to be transporting at least two or more in the driver seat - the front one carries three, one smaller than the other two. As far as you can see from here, each wagon is pulled by two horses.
There are also a few others to each side of the caravan - you can see three traveling on foot, and two on horses. The whole ensemble continues approaching at the same slow pace.
"Confronting them with Words, is just as valid as with swords, more so since..." it is obvious Gubble could explain in depth about his thoughts here but he knows this is not the time. "The silence is more worrisome than the weapons. The second is easily explained, the first is not."
"Shall we?" he gives a nod to the others before walking toward the caravan to talk.
Ooc]think that puts us at at least three to talk first[/ooc]
"Shall we?"
Ok Mr. Gubble...Let's see what they have to say, but let's give them plenty of room while we do this
Elgrin makes sure to angle his buckler so that his Gods' holy symbol on its surface is easily seen as he approaches.
Never taking his eyes off the caravan, "I would advise letting them pass. We do not know the numbers within the covered wagons. If the discussion goes south, then we may very well be outnumbered three to one. But to be frank, sir, those are odds I can live with," he states firmly. "It's your call, sir."
"Talking is always healthier than sword play." Hamish says as everyone sorts themselves and Gubble starts to move forward, flanked by several members of the band. Wrangling Snowbell, Hamish tips his hat and offers a friendly smile to the nearest members of the silent caravan as he directs the mule a few paces off the road to allow for the wagons to pass.
The entire time he continues to watch to try and discern the real motivation behind the quiet display. Is it threat or fear? Are they fleeing refugees or slavers looking to make a quick score? These questions and so many more echo in his mind until he realizes that half the caravan has passed as he is standing in a meadow muffin.
'Oh Brother.' Rolling her eyes Naomi looked down at Thistle, telling the wolf, "Stay on my heels girl." Moving forward a little, but staying on the side of the road, not blocking anything or anyone, Naomi calls out, "Hi! I'm Naomi, left 'Bard's Gate' this morning, where you all headed?"
Gubble looks with a slightly startled look of confusion at the normally personable and eloquent Naomi. Briefly, he worries about foul magic in the air, but shunts it away. "We are a traveling group of adventures, experienced in discovering danger and surviving to tell the tale." he embellishes, though the raccoon family that Thistle disturbed an hour ago could be counted as danger, who knows what diseases a bite could have brought on them. "Do you have any tales of your own to pass on, or do you wish simply to pass?" he winces a little at his turn of phrase. Sigh... he mentally considers trying to do some side quests at a bard college to get better at this banter thing.
"Even three to one, Jalros, each one of them may fear for their own life."
Guthlag stays close behind Naomi. When she calls out, he takes off his pack, grabbing the war scythe that had been strapped to the side of it. The long shaft of dogwood felt good in his hands, the curved talon of iron at the end of it gleaming in the remaining light. So as not to appear too bloodthirsty, he also grabs a few strips of dried animal sinew, which he tears at with his pointed teeth. Cann has her tail up, but stays close to Guthlag, occasionally eying his scrap of food.
"Even three to one, Jalros, each one of them may fear for their own life."
Guthlag stays close behind Naomi. When she calls out, he takes off his pack, grabbing the war scythe that had been strapped to the side of it. The long shaft of dogwood felt good in his hands, the curved talon of iron at the end of it gleaming in the remaining light. So as not to appear too bloodthirsty, he also grabs a few strips of dried animal sinew, which he tears at with his pointed teeth. Cann has her tail up, but stays close to Guthlag, occasionally eying his scrap of food.
The brawler looks over at the half-orc stoically, pondering that a moment before giving a slight, agreeable nod as he turns his attention back to the caravan.
One of the riders approaches the group as you address him - he looks haggard and disheveled, his clothes bloodstained, and he wears an improvised bandana over one eye. His chain shirt, shield and sword seem to point this one out as a martial type of some sort, perhaps a mercenary or previous soldier.
”Greetings to you Naomi and Master Halfling” - he nods, sheathing his sword, and approaching slightly further. At this distance you can see the horse sports several recent long scars along his torso.
”Hopefully you are right, is all I can say” - he looks around at your gathered group, then back at the ragged caravan - ”If you intend to continue traveling along this road, and past the damned Stirge Woods, you will probably need those survival skills” - he adds, then signals the rest of the convoy to continue on its way and pass you by - ”Good luck on the road - may the Gods favor you, as they damn well did not smile upon us” - and nudges his horse to join the others.
As the caravan begins to pass you by, you can see most of the passengers and drivers are wounded, one way or another - their clothes are dirty and stained and most of them look completely worn out and weary, with sunken eyes, and hunched postures. And you also understand why the last caravan is not covered - the fabric has been torn out somehow. The cart has a few human sized bundles wrapped in quilts and sheets, and also a few passengers, coughing and wheezing, apparently unable to walk.
'They're so ... damaged.' Watching as the man greeted them Noami is surprised by Gubbles stretch of the truth. But more surprised, not only by the injuries, but also the caravan leaders demeaner. 'He didn't even say where he's going or what happened.' As the broken man signals the convoy to continue Naomi watches as the caravan passes; the wounded, worn and weary people, the damaged equipment, the bodies in the cart. Shaking her head, she looked at Gubble, asking softly "Experienced?" She looked back at the caravan, wishing the leader had told them more. Pausing, he had mentioned the 'Stirge Woods' trying to remember anything her father or mother may have told her. Asking "Does anyone know what a Stirge is?"