"We've all got similar stories to tell." Tamli says, clutching the talisman hanging around her neck for a moment: a small lock of hair held within a glass vial. "He saved my life." She said, and her expression said she wasn't willing to expand on that for the moment.
"We were sailors on a merchant ship," Olf speaks up, leaning forward on the log he's sitting on. "It ended up sinking when war came to our shores, and Bort helped us make a living for ourselves when we thought we lost everything." Ulf nods along with his brother and glances sidelong at Gregor, whose arm is draped casually over Ulf's shoulder's. "He accepted people for who they are."
Cooky and Grunda are nodding along and neither chimes in. Grunda sniffles a little bit, taking a deep swig of ale to hide her face, and Cooky rubs her back comfortingly, his face grim. Gregor stands up and goes over to one of the nearby wagons, pulling out a few bottles of some kind of wine. He gestures at everyone to finish their tankards and make room before he starts to pour gently from the bottles, evenly distributing the drink. He offers some to all of you, and pours for whoever accepts. "As good a time as any for this, I'd think." The elf says quietly, making eye contact with each of the Princess Guard. "This could be our last trip. Then, homeless. Drifting. Who knows?" Gregor goes back to sit with the twins, wrapping his arm back around Ulf and squeezing the other man lightly.
"He accepted people for who they are."
"Yeah, he did. Don't I know it."
He gestures at everyone to finish their tankards and make room before he starts to pour gently from the bottles, evenly distributing the drink. He offers some to all of you, and pours for whoever accepts.
Fin grabs an empty cup but shakes his head when Gregor offers the drink. "It would just be wasted on me. More for the rest of you though."
"This could be our last trip. Then, homeless. Drifting. Who knows?"
"That's too bad. It would be good if you could keep your caravan going. It seems like a nice gig."
Niss gestures that she just wants a little. Enough for a toast. After last night she didn't plan on drinking to excess again. She laid her head on Drake's shoulder in a moment of affection, recalling last night, and hearing the sad tales of the caravan folk.
Sitting back up after, she looked to Gregor. "It doesn't have to be, though, does it? I would think Bort would have liked to see you all stay together. You seem much like a family, to me."
She looked around at Drake, Fin, and Baradim. "Sometimes a found family has stronger ties than the real thing."
Niss took a deep breath. "We're going to get to the bottom of this, I promise. We'll find whoever is responsible, clear your names, and you can be on your way and continue Bort's work, if you choose to. We have a few leads already, don't we, Fin?"
She spared a brief moment to hate herself, for using a technique Palina had taught her. Manipulating people's feelings to get them to respond more favorably. 'Buttering them up' so Fin could try and get some answers. Niss did feel real sympathy for these folks, but every word had been a calculation to achieve her own goal. She brushed the thoughts aside for now and waited attentively.
"We have a few leads already, don't we, Fin?"
Fin doesn't let the opportunity pass and nods at Niss appreciatively. "Yeah, we do. Not much to go on though. The little goblin has gone missing and we would really like to talk to him. That and the timing of everything with the cargo being shipped here. I wish I knew what was in it. But we can discuss that more later. Just don't let me forget about it."
Niss looks thoughtfully over at Grunda. "That reminds me...I was chatting with Erda earlier. Such a sweet woman, those horses are in good hands with her. She mentioned you were with her last night when Phinick ran past. You didn't chance to see which way he went, did you? He's all but disappeared.
Cooky and Grunda are nodding along and neither chimes in. Grunda sniffles a little bit, taking a deep swig of ale to hide her face, and Cooky rubs her back comfortingly, his face grim. Gregor stands up and goes over to one of the nearby wagons, pulling out a few bottles of some kind of wine. He gestures at everyone to finish their tankards and make room before he starts to pour gently from the bottles, evenly distributing the drink. He offers some to all of you, and pours for whoever accepts. "As good a time as any for this, I'd think." The elf says quietly, making eye contact with each of the Princess Guard. "This could be our last trip. Then, homeless. Drifting. Who knows?" Gregor goes back to sit with the twins, wrapping his arm back around Ulf and squeezing the other man lightly.
Niss gestures that she just wants a little. Enough for a toast. After last night she didn't plan on drinking to excess again. She laid her head on Drake's shoulder in a moment of affection, recalling last night, and hearing the sad tales of the caravan folk.
Sitting back up after, she looked to Gregor. "It doesn't have to be, though, does it? I would think Bort would have liked to see you all stay together. You seem much like a family, to me."
She looked around at Drake, Fin, and Baradim. "Sometimes a found family has stronger ties than the real thing."
Nodding emphatically, "Niss is right. You can't just call it quits. You've got each other and you can keep this thing going. You'd be crazy not to! You all seem like a solid team. Tell me this - and any of you can answer it doesn't matter - what do you think Bort would tell you if he were here right now? Would he tell you:" Drake goes into his dwarf impression, "Okay, gang, ya all go yer separate ways and have a nice life."
"Or do you think he would tell you: "Okay, gang, buck up because ya know what needs ta be done. I'll have no excuses from the lot o' you! Let's get ta work and get it done and let's do this thing the only way we know how ta do it. Our way!" he says, winking, once again with the dwarf impression.
"Now, obviously, I didn't know him as well as the rest of you, but the second one sounds more like something he would say than the first. But since I didn't know him that well, please, I'd love to hear your take."
Niss grinned and chuckled at his bad dwarf impression, but her eyes lingered on him a long moment. He's so sincere. No ulterior motives. I want to be more like that.
Drake cuts a side glance over at Niss, knowing full well what that chuckle was about, yet, he just can't help but smile at her. I swear, she laughs at my bad impressions and she's still so... perfect. That doesn't seem fair. Ah well, the way of the world I guess. And I admit, I've got to work on my dwarven impressions. Yeah, that could've been way better. She hasn't heard my snooty elf impression yet though. That's a good one! Well... at least I think.
"He was a good man. It is always a shame when they're early. May Pharasma be kind to him." Baradim speaks up, taking a drink from the offered alcohol there. He nods in agreement with Inniska, at least to the fact that they should not break apart.
"You trust each other. A unit requires that. You work well together, you just need leadership to step up in place of Bort. Tamli, I think you have that strength." The orc says, watching the orcish woman with a longer stare than usual before he took another large gulp of his alcohol.
"This town is sick and the sickness caught up to Bort. Too much strangeness to be coincidence. We'll find who killed him and I'll bring back their head." The words were calm yet cold. His sword ached for a target to find, a chance at redemption.
Tamli cracks a small smile at Drake's imitation, huffing a little bit with laughter, and shakes her head at the man and his words. She then turns her attention to Baradim and nods once, returning his gaze with a raised eyebrow.
"True. You're not wrong. Either of you," She says, nodding to both Drake and Baradim. "But it feels wrong to take his place." Tamli says, crossing her arms across her chest. "It'd have to come to a vote, I think. For me to be okay with that. But anyway...Bort was more than just some merchant to us. He was my friend. He was a friend to all of us." She looks around at the group, taking a deep and steadying breath. "If you're investigating, you'll do miles better than that fool, Rolth. You might be able to pull this off, though. Figure out who killed Bort. Get us some justice."
"Tamli, don't be stupid." Cooky says suddenly, standing up and regarding the half-orc woman with vague amusement, the first time you've heard the man speak and look anything other than grumpy as hell. "Of course you're going to take charge, if anyone is." The others raise their glasses, uttering a cacophony of agreement.
Nodding emphatically, "Niss is right. You can't just call it quits. You've got each other and you can keep this thing going. You'd be crazy not to! You all seem like a solid team. Tell me this - and any of you can answer it doesn't matter - what do you think Bort would tell you if he were here right now? Would he tell you:" Drake goes into his dwarf impression, "Okay, gang, ya all go yer separate ways and have a nice life."
"Or do you think he would tell you: "Okay, gang, buck up because ya know what...
Gregor answers, smiling wryly. "Your levity is appreciated, Drake. He'd obviously be more likely to say the last...and throw in a story about how this whole situation maybe reminded him of a time he went adventuring somewhere..." He trails off, letting the other caravaners fill in the blanks with their own memories of Bort's fantastical stories. "It is like a little family, isn't it?" The elf says, glancing affectionately at Ulf, who returns his gaze with a small smile.
Niss looks thoughtfully over at Grunda. "That reminds me...I was chatting with Erda earlier. Such a sweet woman, those horses are in good hands with her. She mentioned you were with her last night when Phinick ran past. You didn't chance to see which way he went, did you? He's all but disappeared.
Grunda doesn't answer immediately, only sniffling slightly and staring off into space. After a moment, just before Niss considers asking her question again, she looks over at Niss and shrugs. "Just that he went north, towards all the dead houses," She says quietly, fidgeting with the frayed hem of her shirt.
Niss cocks her head slightly. "The...dead houses?" She hazarded a guess. "Like, abandoned from when the plague killed people?"
Fin listens to Grunda mention the direction Phinick went.
Well, 'dead houses' doesn't sound very hospitable. Perhaps tracking him after so many hours have passed won't be as impossible as I was afraid it would be.
Niss cocks her head slightly. "The...dead houses?" She hazarded a guess. "Like, abandoned from when the plague killed people?"
"Yes," Gregor speaks up, adding to the conversation. Grunda shoots him a grateful look but stays interested in the conversation. "I'm from this area, actually. The dead homes... that's where the plague hit the worst, and it's where Etran's Folly quarantined the sick during the plague. There are more nooks and crannies in there than one could imagine, and Phinick is small."
Great, she thought. Finding a needle in a haystack. I hope the trail hasn't gone too cold. She glanced at Fin, her expression conveying as much without the need for telepathy.
Fin shrugs at Niss. "It's at least a start."
As the wake winds down, and it starts getting dark, Fin approaches Tamli. "Do you know what was in those crates being shipped here? No, before you ask, I don't know if it is important or not. But the more information that I have, the better."
As the wake winds down, and it starts getting dark, Fin approaches Tamli. "Do you know what was in those crates being shipped here? No, before you ask, I don't know if it is important or not. But the more information that I have, the better."
"Not off the top of my head, but I know he kept a written inventory in his personal wagon." She looked thoughtful. "I can let you all take a look at it, if you think it would help?"
"If you would, that would be great."
Fin will follow Tamli over there when she is ready to go.
"If you would, that would be great."
Fin will follow Tamli over there when she is ready to go.
Tamli gestures for anyone who wishes to follow and leads them over to Bort's wagon. His wagon looks the same as the others--the difference is on the inside. Whereas the other wagons were plain, Bort's looked like a small apartment on the inside--the interior is filled from floor to ceiling with knickknacks and keepsakes. Some notable things include a bottle with a tiny skull floating in a viscous liquid, a taxidermied dragon whelp, and a mummified owlbear paw…among many other things. His desk is shoved into the corner, stacked with piles of paper, quills, and ink, random books of varying genres and quality. There’s a stack of neatly labeled notebooks that contain all of the details of his travels and transactions over many years.
"Thank you Tamli."
Looking around in the wagon, "Bort sure was an eclectic collector of stuff." Finding the log book, Fin sits down with it. He looks over to the others. "Well, looks like I may be at this for a while. Go ahead and get some rest. I'll let you know in the morning what I find."
"Thank you Tamli."
Looking around in the wagon, "Bort sure was an eclectic collector of stuff." Finding the log book, Fin sits down with it. He looks over to the others. "Well, looks like I may be at this for a while. Go ahead and get some rest. I'll let you know in the morning what I find."
Society: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22
"Mmm, you can borrow the ledger for the night, but I can't let you stay in here unsupervised, and I don't want to watch you read all night," Tamli says, crossing her arms over her chest. She doesn't look upset or angry, but her tone is very firm.
"Mmm, you can borrow the ledger for the night, but I can't let you stay in here unsupervised, and I don't want to watch you read all night," Tamli says, crossing her arms over her chest. She doesn't look upset or angry, but her tone is very firm.
He takes a last look around the wagon. "Yeah, that's fair. Can I read it in, or just outside, the old wagon we shared with Cooky on the way here? I'll be quiet about it."
"Mmm, you can borrow the ledger for the night, but I can't let you stay in here unsupervised, and I don't want to watch you read all night," Tamli says, crossing her arms over her chest. She doesn't look upset or angry, but her tone is very firm.He takes a last look around the wagon. "Yeah, that's fair. Can I read it in, or just outside, the old wagon we shared with Cooky on the way here? I'll be quiet about it."
Tamli nods. "As long as Cooky is alright with it, you can share that space. You're welcome to take it to the Feedmill, if you're staying there, too."
Niss elects to help Fin looking through ledgers , looking around at the wagon filled with one man's entire life, or so it seemed. She was not a thief, when her mistress was not forcing her to be, so she didn't even think to look for anything valuable in the mess, though she did lightly poke the taxidermized dragon whelp, to judge if it was real and what feelings, if any, Bort had invested it with. She wondered idly if he'd defeated the little monster, or just traded it somewhere. Then, with a little sigh, she sat with Fin and got to reading.
"H...What was that big angry man's name? Didn't it start with an H?"
Gregor answers, smiling wryly. "Your levity is appreciated, Drake. He'd obviously be more likely to say the last...and throw in a story about how this whole situation maybe reminded him of a time he went adventuring somewhere..." He trails off, letting the other caravaners fill in the blanks with their own memories of Bort's fantastical stories. "It is like a little family, isn't it?" The elf says, glancing affectionately at Ulf, who returns his gaze with a small smile.
Grinning, "Yes, like family. As it should be. Are any of you related to each other in some way? Outside of the brothers of course. Just curious."
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"H...What was that big angry man's name? Didn't it start with an H?"
Cutting his attention to Niss and with a thoughtful look about him, "Haldor? Haldon? Pretty positive it's not just 'Hal'." He starts to stroke his chin hair, his mind racing to figure it out. "Now, I know I heard it. I just need to think a minute. Hal-something or other... um... HALLOD! That's it! I believe it's Hallod. Wait, is that right?" He looks over at the caravaners, still a bit unsure.
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---Chronomancy, Set After Deciphering the Thing---
It's getting late, and she grows tired. Her eyes are fuzzy after decoding Bort's ledgers. She yawns as she finishes the last one, tipping her head left and right to stretch out a neck craned downward for too long. Her gaze finds Drake, remembering her words to him this morning, and his reply...
I...wouldn't mind repeating it, if you want to...
I'd like that. I'd like that a lot.
She just smiles at him, marveling at how quickly this connection between them has formed. Just seeing him makes her heart feel lighter. She loses herself in the moment, and Drake would eventually notice her just staring at him like a dopey idiot, as she's too sleepy to school her features at all.
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Drake simply watches the two pour over the notes. Well... more like just watching Niss. And not really watching her pour over any notes. Just, simply, watching her.
As it gets late, he catches her yawning and stretching. When she turns her attention his way, she smiles and appears to be staring at him. Drake smiles in return and quickly decides it's time to go. Rising in an instant, "Well, this has been fun but, uh, I really don't want to sleep out here. I think I'm gonna head back to the Feedmill. Good night, all," he nods to them all before making his way over to Niss and Fin.
Keeping his eyes fixated directly upon hers while ignoring Fin entirely, "Um, if you want, Niss, I can escort you back to the Feedmill if you're ready to turn in. I noticed you were looking kind of tired, so, um, that's why I ask. But if you're too busy... then...," he pauses, really not wanting her to be too busy, "that's, you know, that's understandable. I don't mind waiting until you're done though. I don't. Like at all. It's not a problem." She was SO comfortable to lie with the other night. She fits me so very perfectly. "Just let me know." He smiles, never taking his eyes off her.
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"I think we're good here. Nothing we can do this evening, anyway. Fin, Baradim? Meet us in the common room of the Feedmill for breakfast?"
She doesn't wait for an answer, rising and taking Drake's hand, interlacing her fingers with his. Whether or not their friends are heading back to the Feedmill as well, she walks ahead with Drake, the two of them alone for the first time since stepping into the hall this morning.
They were quiet at first, heading back. It was strange to feel so close and still so awkward with him. She'd shared so much of herself last night. Spent the night in his bed, for pity's sake. Yet there was still this shyness that made it hard to find the right words.
So she contents herself for the moment with squeezing his hand a bit tighter, and hugging his arm to herself momentarily.
Gregor answers, smiling wryly. "Your levity is appreciated, Drake. He'd obviously be more likely to say the last...and throw in a story about how this whole situation maybe reminded him of a time he went adventuring somewhere..." He trails off, letting the other caravaners fill in the blanks with their own memories of Bort's fantastical stories. "It is like a little family, isn't it?" The elf says, glancing affectionately at Ulf, who returns his gaze with a small smile.Grinning, "Yes, like family. As it should be. Are any of you related to each other in some way? Outside of the brothers of course. Just curious."
Olf and Ulf both shake their heads in response. "Ulf and I are the only ones related by blood," Olf says, glancing fondly around the other caravaners. "Blood doesn't mean much, though." He frowns, scratching at his stubbly beard. "Found family, like Niss said. We signed on here and never felt the need to leave." He nods towards the psychic, smiling.
"Found family, like Niss said. We signed on here and never felt the need to leave."
"Yeah, you've got that right. I've been living on found family for a long time. It works quite well."
"And I am going to do everything I can to find out what happened to Bort and why."
"Fin, Baradim? Meet us in the common room of the Feedmill for breakfast?"
She doesn't wait for an answer, rising and taking Drake's hand, interlacing her fingers with his.
"Yeah, go get a room, you two. I'll meet you in there in the morning. But I think I have stared at the inside walls of that building enough for several nights already."
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Fin and Baradim
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As the night winds down, the caravaners drink themselves into some semblance of happiness.
Grunda wanders off in the direction of The Feedmill, muttering something about Erda to Tamli before she goes.
Ulf and Gregor disappear into their wagon alone, Olf watching them go with a wry smile on his face.
Olf, Cooky, and Tamli stay out by the fire for a good, long while, sitting in companionable silence and occasionally sharing stories about Bort.
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Niss and Drake
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When the two of you enter the Feedmill, Delma waves you both over. "Productive day?" She asks, setting down some mugs.
The kitchen was, unfortunately, still closed due to the investigation, but the bar was still usable. Several farmers and townsfolk are in the common area drinking and listening to Flonk the Bard's terrible playing. Only a few spared a glance at the pair as they walked in.
"You two staying here again tonight? You'll need to pay this time. Bort only paid for the one night. It's 2 silver per room," She says, smiling brilliantly at the two. "I'm guessing you only need the one, though, eh?"
Olf and Ulf both shake their heads in response. "Ulf and I are the only ones related by blood," Olf says, glancing fondly around the other caravaners. "Blood doesn't mean much, though." He frowns, scratching at his stubbly beard. "Found family, like Niss said. We signed on here and never felt the need to leave." He nods towards the psychic, smiling.
Nodding, "As it should be," he repeats, grinning.
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"Yeah, go get a room, you two. I'll meet you in there in the morning. But I think I have stared at the inside walls of that building enough for several nights already."
Shaking his head at the cat's words, "'Night, fellas." He says as the pair walk away.
She doesn't wait for an answer, rising and taking Drake's hand, interlacing her fingers with his. Whether or not their friends are heading back to the Feedmill as well, she walks ahead with Drake, the two of them alone for the first time since stepping into the hall this morning.
They were quiet at first, heading back. It was strange to feel so close and still so awkward with him. She'd shared so much of herself last night. Spent the night in his bed, for pity's sake. Yet there was still this shyness that made it hard to find the right words.
So she contents herself for the moment with squeezing his hand a bit tighter, and hugging his arm to herself momentarily.
Holding her hand firmly as the walk back, Drake looks down at her, smiling from ear to ear as she hugs his arm tightly. Okay, McClain. Okay. She said she wouldn't mind staying again, so, just ask her. Should be good. Okay, here goes. Even though his thoughts appear confident, the racing of his heart could very well dispute that. "Hey, um, Niss, if you're up to it, you could, I don't know, you could stay with me, tonight. Again, I mean. I really liked last night."
Niss felt her face flush when he spoke, and was glad it was getting dark enough to mask it. "I'd like that," she said with a warm smile. Why was she so nervous about it? It had already happened once. Yeah, but last night you were an emotional wreck and drunk, to boot. Tonight you're just a woman with strong feelings for him.
When they got to the Feedmill and Delma spoke up she answered. "Productive, yes, though there is still a lot to sort out." At the mention of coin she tensed up. She honestly didn't have a copper to her name, and hadn't even given thought to the fact Bort could no longer cover the tab.
Smiling wide, "Good. That's good. Okay. Excellent." As late as it is and for how long the day's been, for some odd reason the ranger has found a spring in his step.
Not hesitating in the least, Drake pulls out coin from his pouch and lays it on the bar. "Here you go, Delma. Thank you. And we're going to get to the bottom of this. You can count on it." He nods emphatically before taking back Niss's hand and proceeding to their rooms.
When they arrive, "If you need to change in your nightclothes, or whatever, then go right ahead. Whenever you're done just come on over. The door will be open." He looks around a moment, "For you anyway. Not for that crazy cat of ours." He grins wryly, winking. "Or you can come in with me now. Either way works for me. I definitely have got to get out of these clothes for sure." Wait a minute?... Did that sound?... You know, I don't want to think about it. I just... no.
As the night winds down, the caravaners drink themselves into some semblance of happiness.
Fin returns the ledger to Tamli after he and Niss are finished reading through it. He sits by the fire and rests for a couple or three hours - mostly just listening to the quiet conversation.
When everyone has settled down and is off to their beds, Fin gets up and stretches a bit.
:Well, now what? Scoping out Hallod's place would be great, but I don't want to go wandering off too far without backup. Niss said something about buying herbs from a bear - whatever that means. But I don't really know where to find a bear that would sell herbs. I could probably check out the Dead Houses - at least superficially.:
Fin heads over to the area known as the Dead Houses. He keeps an eye out for anything that may indicate the passage of a goblin - hoping at least to not disturb any evidence that was there. He doesn't actually go into the Dead Houses area. Just looks at it from a nearby rise of the ground, trying to get a sense of what to expect during the daytime.
:Yeah, my curiosity really is going to get me killed. Here I am poking around haunted houses in the middle of the night completely alone.:
After a while he trudges his way back to the caravan, keeping guard over the sleeping travelers as he usually did since he met up with them.
Niss chuckled. "Well since we only paid for the one room, and I'm wearing everything I own..." and she followed him into his room.
She made her way over to the mirror and splashed a bit of water on her face, toweling it off, and working a few snags out of her hair with her fingers before starting to braid it to keep tidy. She glanced at the tub in the room. It had been days since her last bath, and the thought held appeal, but she brushed it aside. Perhaps should could make a little coin tomorrow and get a room of her own, at least to bathe in. Hopefully, in the meantime, she wasn't offensively smelly.
She kept stealing glances of Drake in the mirror. "Thank you -- for paying. I'm afraid I didn't get paid very much in my line of work," she said wryly.
Niss chuckled. "Well since we only paid for the one room, and I'm wearing everything I own..." and she followed him into his room.
Just now waking up to that reality for some reason, "Oh yeah! That's right. Not sure where my head is tonight. Sorry. Must have a lot on my mind." Drake checks the hallway for a certain kitty before finally closing the door and locking it.
She made her way over to the mirror and splashed a bit of water on her face, toweling it off, and working a few snags out of her hair with her fingers before starting to braid it to keep tidy. She glanced at the tub in the room. It had been days since her last bath, and the thought held appeal, but she brushed it aside. Perhaps should could make a little coin tomorrow and get a room of her own, at least to bathe in. Hopefully, in the meantime, she wasn't offensively smelly.
She kept stealing glances of Drake in the mirror. "Thank you -- for paying. I'm afraid I didn't get paid very much in my line of work," she said wryly.
Waving her off, "Naaah. It's no big deal at all. For you, sweetheart, anytime." He pauses a moment, just now realizing what he said and decides to just ignore it for the sake of awkwardness. You really don't have your head in the game tonight, do you, McClain. Pull it together, buddy.
Cutting glances over to her as he removes his shirt, he notices her looking back over her shoulder. The only thing over there is the bath. "Um, Niss, if you want, you can use the bath. This is 'our' room so that makes it 'our' bath. Please, feel free. I'll stand guard out here. You may not be aware of this, but, I am the perfect gentleman you know." he says with a grin, winking.
As the two lovebirds head off on their own, Baradim stays to drink with the others. The tall, dark green man moved closer towards Tamli to share cups with her as the night went on. Stories and songs were exchanged but the warrior remained quiet. As the others began to go to sleep, his head turns toward her.
"Tamli..." Baradim would say, waiting for a moment. When the woman turned towards him, he would smile a moment before shaking his head. "...sleep well."
In the morning, Baradim would be awake despite the dull pain in his head from drinking. Securing his armor to his being, he'd give a nod to Finoan before making his way back towards the Feedmill. There was work to be done today.
As the two lovebirds head off on their own, Baradim stays to drink with the others. The tall, dark green man moved closer towards Tamli to share cups with her as the night went on. Stories and songs were exchanged but the warrior remained quiet. As the others began to go to sleep, his head turns toward her.
"Tamli..." Baradim would say, waiting for a moment. When the woman turned towards him, he would smile a moment before shaking his head. "...sleep well."
In the morning, Baradim would be awake despite the dull pain in his head from drinking. Securing his armor to his being, he'd give a nod to Finoan before making his way back towards the Feedmill. There was work to be done today.
Tamli, finally smiling some after a bit of drink and companionship for the night, not failing to take notice of Baradim's subtle positioning near her. It had been some time since she had met another orc, like her, who wasn't trying to kill her or raid their caravan. The skin on her face, lighter than his own, was slightly flushed, but whether it be from drink or the company, Baradim wasn't sure.
She grinned in reply to him, leaned over a tad, emboldened by the wine, and replied to him: "You know, I tend to sleep a little better after I've worn myself out. Haven't had much of a chance to, these past couple of days - usually the day's work does it, but..." She gestures vaguely, her smile turning wry. "Got any ideas?" Her eyebrow quirks as she lets the question linger.
Fin returns the ledger to Tamli after he and Niss are finished reading through it. He sits by the fire and rests for a couple or three hours - mostly just listening to the quiet conversation.
When everyone has settled down and is off to their beds, Fin gets up and stretches a bit.
:Well, now what? Scoping out Hallod's place would be great, but I don't want to go wandering off too far without backup. Niss said something about buying herbs from a bear - whatever that means. But I don't really know where to find a bear that would sell herbs. I could probably check out the Dead Houses - at least superficially.:
Fin heads over to the area known as the Dead Houses. He keeps an eye out for anything that may indicate the passage of a goblin - hoping at least to not disturb any evidence that was there. He doesn't actually go into the Dead Houses area. Just looks at it from a nearby rise of the ground, trying to get a sense of what to expect during the daytime.
:Yeah, my curiosity really is going to get me killed. Here I am poking around haunted houses in the middle of the night completely alone.:
After a while he trudges his way back to the caravan, keeping guard over the sleeping travelers as he usually did since he met up with them.
Finoan observes the Dead Houses - the homes where the plague-ridden people of Etran's Folly had been quarantined. It is little more than a squatter's paradise: only a few homes seem cared for and maintained, likely out of sheer stubbornness than any desire to actually stay in the area. Most houses are quiet, abandoned, and decaying; doors hanging off hinges like the gaping, twisted mouths of the long-dead. The only sounds one can hear are small ones: the rustling of small animals, the squeaking of rodents, the pattering of little raccoon feet digging hopelessly among the debris for some kind of snack.
Once, Finoan thinks he might have heard the sounds of scurrying, small feet - off to the north - but they stop as abruptly as they start, and Finoan hears nothing more from that direction until he makes his way back to the caravan.
In the morning, as people start coming out of the wagons that they slept in, Fin is still making wandering rounds in the campsite. For half a second he looks around for Bort to report to, and shakes his head when he remembers that Bort won't be around.
He instead looks around for Tamli or even Greta or Gregor.
Finoan eventually leaves and heads over to the Feedmill and waits in the lower common area for the rest of the group to arrive.
If Rolth is there or shows up, he will also talk to him.
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When the woman leans in, emboldened by the wine in her belly, those yellow eyes would scan hers carefully. They studied for duplicity, for uncertainty, but he would find known. He would reach forward for the cup of alcohol, drinking it deeply and quickly before standing up.
There might've been a moment when that it would seem like he was walking away before he reached down, hoisted the strong woman onto his shoulder, and began to carry her off to bed. It had been a long, long time since he had a chance to relax, before the fall of Vigil and Lastwall itself. Finoan could keep watch, Baradim could use the real rest.
In the morning, as people start coming out of the wagons that they slept in, Fin is still making wandering rounds in the campsite. For half a second he looks around for Bort to report to, and shakes his head when he remembers that Bort won't be around.
He instead looks around for Tamli or even Greta or Gregor.
The familiar scent of Cooky's breakfast starts wafting around the camp early in the morning, luring out most of the hungover caravaners. Olf, Ulf, and Gregor are all groggy, drinking water and wincing at the sunlight. Grunda isn't to be found; she headed off in the evening to go spend some time with Erda.
Tamli emerges from her wagon around the same time as Baradim does, a little later than she usually would. She gets herself some water, then passes a cup to Baradim, and nods at the automaton who seems to be looking for her. "Morning, Finoan." She says, taking a deep drink from her mug. "Anything interesting happen overnight?"
Fin finds Tamli finally. And Baradim. He twitches an ear at that, but mostly ignores the possible implications that involves. "Nothing of major note for the campsite itself. I went and checked out the Dead Houses. I may have spooked something there. Hard to tell. Does anyone actually still live there? Most of the houses are clearly abandoned, but some are still being relatively well maintained."
"Niss says that there is something up with the horses. I'm going to go check with her about that shortly. The caravan will really be grounded if something happens to the horses."
Fin finds Tamli finally. And Baradim. He twitches an ear at that, but mostly ignores the possible implications that involves. "Nothing of major note for the campsite itself. I went and checked out the Dead Houses. I may have spooked something there. Hard to tell. Does anyone actually still live there? Most of the houses are clearly abandoned, but some are still being relatively well maintained."
"Those are questions better answered by the people who actually live here," Tamli replies, shrugging. "Good to know nothing bad happened, though." She gets herself more water and downs it all in one drink, finally looking a little less pale from the drink.
"Niss says that there is something up with the horses. I'm going to go check with her about that shortly. The caravan will really be grounded if something happens to the horses."
"Something's wrong with the horses?" This caught Tamli's attention. "What do you mean?" She frowns deeply, setting her mug down. "And why do you know before I do? Grunda's getting distracted with that stablehand..." She mutters, glaring off in the direction of the Feedmill.