"What say you? Shall we ride forth yet again?"
"Sounding good to me. Best be prepping well if our trip be going for a long ways"
Rocko will think about what kind of travel conditions they would be expecting and how best to prepare supplies and plan a route.
Of course Rocko knows the area hereabouts well enough; there's no particular gear they'll need for the roads and grassland travel that they don't already possess. There's plenty of feed for the mounts in the stables, and the party has more than enough credit in travel rations at Jules'.
Likewise you still have the climbing gear you first purchased last year for your trip across the Piestewek Peaks to the southwest.
One thing Rocko notes some new vermin repellent on the shelves. About 20 gp should protect you all. Might come in handy, might not, but it couldn't hurt.
As Rocko considers, he seems to remember some sort of Northern Pass in the Picos Cidaos, leading from the Keep Mesa Norte on the west side of the mountains to a small settlement north of Santa Merceda. It should make an easier crossing than trudging around looking for paths.
"Treasure? How curious. I wonder what it would be that your people have found so worthwhile to seek out once more." Her head tilts, her earings clinking softly at the action. "Hmm... I will go with you."
While Amideo ponders what else he knows about this facet of history, he nods gratefully towards Yoltzin, "Your assistance and companionship is always a delight. Often crucial to the survival of our band of caballeros, too, but that is secondary. "
Before departing, he leaves word for Isatai to continue the work in his stead while he's gone, serving as a judge in his stead, authorized to pass judgements on petty crimes and investigating and making necessary arrests in serious crimes, but leaving judgement for Amideo.
She offers a rare smile and a bow of her head. "You and Djack both are quite the flatterers."
Rocko crosses his arms and grins, "Bah, it not be sweet talking when it be the truth. A good friend is a great strength."
"I much agree. You are wonderful companions all." Given with a nod towards Rocko.
Kn History = 23
Kn Local = 21While Amideo ponders what else he knows about this facet of history...
The current year is 1054, month of Mayum. Two-hundred fifty years ago exactly was 804. That would have been toward the start of The Deadly Drought. 80 years earlier, Espa had all but given up on expansion in The Marches, but The Deadly Drought would have put the final nail in the coffin until modern times.
So Rosentos' expedition was one of the last fits and starts of the Eastern kingdoms trying to save or expand their holdings in The Marches.
In the early 800's, Albarra was probably coming into its own as a kind of free city (small though it be). Though Santa Merceda still existed, it had fallen into chaos and had to be basically re-conquered under Marques Deigon (Marques Leonus' father). That left Albarra as a sort of bastion of civilization, an example of how a settlement, integrated with various travelers from previous catastrophes, can stand on its own in difficult times.
Little is known even now about most of the area west of the mountains; the party had been there more than once, they'd encountered native settlements, some very small villages of integrated human peoples, and of course Keep Mesa Norte, but nothing like Albarra, let alone Santa Merceda, west of the mountains.
Djack can't help but smile at the mention of him offering flattery. Damn, too obvious.
Let's muster up I suppose. Road trips are fun. New places... any traditional gifts your people might enjoy?
I'm curious, are all the females there like... you? You know, beautiful and smart - with a fetish for dead animals?
Her brow quirked a fraction as she responded, her fingers brushing hair from her face in a way that could almost be considered flirtatious with a smile to match. "You should be careful with your words, some might take them to heart. I'm not sure you would survive such an encounter intact."
Turning more neutral, her hands moved to instead smooth the edges of her smock. "When envoys from the other villages approached my own, they would usually bring gifts of food, carvings such as beads or masks, and woven clothing or rugs. The former I think would be most appropriate, if we were to formally meet others."
The young man seems at a loss for words. Clearing his throat...
Oh, do you mean you or... the others? Damn, Yoltzin. You've been traveling with me long enough. He straightens up a bit, his confidence back.
I barely survive any encounter.
But, I now have a shopping list... thank you!
Will any be joining me... wil Djill be OK all the way there or should we proceed on foot? Do we need pack animals? Sounds like he's supplying an expedition.
Zia walks into the courtroom during Yoltzin and Djack's banter.
"Wow, seems like I'm missing something!"
"Sorry I'm late. What's with pack animals? Are we going somewhere?"
will Djill be OK all the way there or should we proceed on foot? Do we need pack animals?
Rocko would let Djack know that the Eastern route stays on road and grassland for the largest portion of the journey. The mountain pass between the northern outpost and Keep Mesa Norte is also the easiest way across the mountains, so much less rough than the paths you've taken in previous mountain forays. Djill and the other mounts should be fine, though you may have to walk them at times.
As far as pack animals and a cart, probably best attained at Mesa Norte, so that you don't have to travel as far with a wagon and slower animals. Some form of wagon will be necessary, just in case you find said treasure, but not likely needed on this side of the mountains.
Using party funds (which include the 33 gp in court income from Amideo), Djack purchases:
20 sunrods - 40gp
5 smokesticks - 100gp
10 sacks, 600 coin capacity each (20 gp)
Zia, preferring not to get attached to a single animal, continues to rent from the stable. Her horse will cost 10 gp from party funds.
You already have food for yourselves and your mounts/companions.
Fine quality food can be obtained in Santa Merceda (en route). Additionally, Mistress Espindola has gifted Djack a Scroll of Preservation. When read, the spell "preserve" is cast, causing 5 lbs of food to be perfectly preserved for one week.
A cart and draft animals can be obtained at Keep Mesa Norte, meaning there will be little mountain travel with them.
By noon, after a light lunch at The Friendly Mesa (except for Rocko, whose appetite seems much greater than his human/elven companions), the party is ready to set out.
It is a moderately hot day, but in late spring, you can't count on cooler here in The Marches. Middle of the week as it is, you encounter many people on business, traveling between very small hamlets and farms toward Albarra, or sometimes from. You encounter nothing hostile or particularly meaningful, however. Stopping after a full day's travel, you set up camp just off the road as the sun sets. Nothing bothers you in your rest that evening, and you awaken refreshened.
Mayum 18
You are now less than a day's ride from Santa Merceda. It is another windy day, and the dryness makes conditions very dusty during gusts. By this point, you're seeing travel heading toward (or from) Santa Merceda, a larger stream of travelers than those heading to Albarra. It has been slightly over a month since you helped retake the city, along with reinforcements from Keep Mesa Norte. Seems like business is returning to normal.
By lunchtime, you've reached the once-ruined gates of Santa Merceda. They have been expertly repaired, perhaps with some spellcraft to help speed the process. From the gatehouse, you hear a surprised woot of excitement and happiness.
The door opens, and Vasco Guimaraes comes rushing out to meet you. He's wearing the armor of the City Guard, a captain by the look of it. You remember back to the time Vasco and his rebels, then under the sway of the Quishat beetle curse, attacked you outside these very gates. Amideo's mercy at forgiving his crimes seems to have paid off; the city gained a fine officer.
"My friends! I did not expect you back so soon!"
Amideo raises a hand in salute, "Hail and well met, Vasco...no, Captain Guimares! I did not expect it either, but it seems fate has smiled upon us by making it so. I hope the city is making it's way back along towards prosperity?"
"Indeed, sir. The knights of Mesa Norte have restored law and order, and I've enlisted several trusted friends in the guard. It will take us time to rebuild, but it is well underway. Several of the merchant houses have chipped in; seems a lively city is better for business!"
"Indeed, sir. The knights of Mesa Norte have restored law and order, and I've enlisted several trusted friends in the guard. It will take us time to rebuild, but it is well underway. Several of the merchant houses have chipped in; seems a lively city is better for business!"
Entering the maze of buildings inside Southgate, the party sees first hand the bustle of activity in the marketplace. New stalls have replaced those destroyed during the rebellion, simple, but as effective in selling wares. Being mid-day, the crowd is modest, but several scribes, sages, and artisans wait in line to purchase meals from the street vendors. On walks by with a flatbread stuffed with meat, onions, veggies and a creamy sauce; it looks delicious.
All give Yoltzin and Momo a wide berth, looking startled at the skeletal buffalo and to their eyes primitive Wild Elf.
"Would you like some lunch, my friends! Let Vasco treat you!"
Djack gives salutes, handshakes and genuine hugs all around.
On the walk he keeps an eye out for Emilio Malaquias, and the Aliança Velada.
His nose reminds him to also be on the look out for something delicious as an offering.
Life used to be so simple. Now, I discretely watch for people... discretely watching.
Djack does not see Emilio, though there is someone keeping to the background, a woman wearing a similar hooded cloak to the one Djack remembers meeting Emilio in. It's amazing, Djack reflects, who good the Aliança Velada seemed to be at going unnoticed, while wearing such suspicious-looking garb. Ah well, the young scout thinks, as a meat stuffed pastry sold by the slice catches his eye.
Yoltzin gives little mind to the reactions garnered by her and Momozhuani. She could see the beauty of his painted skull even if they could not. Her eyes are however drawn to the curious flatbread treats, her nose having been thoroughly hooked. "Mm. My people lack the wheat and maze which fuels your bakeries with breads. Something so light and fluffy could gain you much favor with my people."
You tease, Yoltzin. Light and fluffy, certainly.
I wonder if that woman knows... Emilio. Then he is off to catch the attention of the hooded lady.
Eye contact, make eye contact.
The woman ducks into a tavern whose entrance is off the main courtyard in a narrow alley. There is no clearly readable name on the sign above the door; just the engraved image of an old manor house and a smiling man holding a large mug.
As Djack enters the establishment, he notices how distinctly different it is from The Friendly Mesa. The Mesa was warm, festive and inviting. One never felt alone there, even if it was only the barkeep and one customer. But here, being alone, anonymous, seemed the point.
There is little external light in the narrow room, and it is a good ten degrees cooler in here than on the street. Three people stand by the bar, and a row of benches runs along the outside wall. Squinting, Djack sees the hooded woman in one of the benches, her eyes on him.
Meanwhile, back in the marketplace...
Everyone having obtained the food of their choice, or at least of opportunity, the party, minus Djack, sits together at a bench and table under a pavilion of thick fabric.
"...so the farmer says 'It's because he doesn't want to be spotted!' Take my meaning? Spotted?" Vasco says, finishing the joke he began as you walked into the pavilion.
"Well, it was funny when I heard it. So, anyway, what brings the Heroes of Albarra once again to our city?" the rebel-turned-captain asks as he takes a bite of multi-colored maize dipped in a thick cream.
Djack approaches, offering a winning smile. Only taking a seat if invited.
May I buy you a drink? Seems you remind me of an... old friend.
Not that you look old, heavens no. Just that they are from a little while ago. Forgive my verbal clumsiness.
Perhaps you could help me.
The woman gestures "sit" with her hand. Once Djack is seated, she looks up from under the hood.
"You are known to me, Djack of Albarra. You assisted the Alliance with a problem not long ago. The Alliance and all of Santa Merceda gives you its gratitude. That said, it is odd that those known as The Heroes of Albarra find themselves again in our city." She definitely emphasized the word "our".
The woman gestures, and shortly two drinks are brought to the table. The contents of the glass are clear. The woman takes a swig from hers.
I'm hardly any hero.
Thanks but, not much of a drinker.
We are merely passing through. But, your tone begs the question, are we not welcome, here?
I simply wished to pass greetings... and salutations to Emilio. Good day, Madame.
Standing back up, he makes to leave.
The woman touches Djack's arm to get his attention as he stands.
"YOU are welcome. Our concern is in a representative of The Marques showing up too often in our area. While we concede the legal authority of the Marques, Santa Merceda is a free city. We'd like to make sure it stays that way."
Her voice softens. "You've allayed that concern; you're just passing through. I'll relay your salutations to Emilio."
Meanwhile, back in the marketplace...
Everyone having obtained the food of their choice, or at least of opportunity, the party, minus Djack, sits together at a bench and table under a pavilion of thick fabric.
"...so the farmer says 'It's because he doesn't want to be spotted!' Take my meaning? Spotted?" Vasco says, finishing the joke he began as you walked into the pavilion.
"Well, it was funny when I heard it. So, anyway, what brings the Heroes of Albarra once again to our city?" the rebel-turned-captain asks as he takes a bite of multi-colored maize dipped in a thick cream.
The elf blinks, having completely missed how anything the man had said prior was meant to make sense. She nods along as if it had, so as to not harm the man's feelings. Thankfully he seemed to move onto more addressable topics.
"We're making our way North-west, past the mountains to the grand woodland beyond."
I'm not one for politics or power plays. I'd judge the man by his actions and not his title.
Based on his actions of late, you should welcome him with open arms. We can each and all, judge. Excuse any pun.
He gently removes his arm from her grasp, merely pulling out away.
Thank you for passing along my message.All the best to you, Madame. With that he turns to leave.
"...so the farmer says 'It's because he doesn't want to be spotted!' Take my meaning? Spotted?" Vasco says, finishing the joke he began as you walked into the pavilion.
Rocko, having several spotted cousins who would rather have striped or solid coats, guffaws quietly to himself. He would have laughed louder, but it's best not to be in the habit of laughing at jokes that wouldn't go well with some of his tribe
"We're making our way North-west, past the mountains to the grand woodland beyond."
Vasco nods, knowingly. "Ah, trip home, eh?" It's actually a fairly knowledgeable comment. Yoltzin would like to have said the man was being prejudicial, assuming all Wild Elves were from that particular forest. But in this case, she had to admit her own people were rather xenophobic, and few moved outside the realm of the Mother Woods.
"Ah, here comes Djack, finally!"
"Come along, Djack! We're almost done eating and you haven't even started!"
What's good? Did you save me any? He starts to devour what might be there, ordering a little more and trying different things.
His smile is brazen.
Amideo gives a hearty laugh at the captain’s joke. He understood it no better than anyone wlse in the party, but he also knew when to extend a measure of courtesy.
Tucking into his own meal, a hearty bowl of the southern Espan classic of paeja, he replies to Vasco, ”Not quite, good sir. I hope you will keep this in confidence but we are following rumors of treasure, if you can believe it. The stuff of old tales from the grim and terrible days of the Deadly Drought.”
Vasco reassures Amideo he will not speak a word about this mission. Having completed your meal and giving yourself and the horses some rest, you're ready set off again. There are still several hours until sunset, and you can get a good head-start toward the northern outpost.
Djack purchases some amount of foodstuffs with which to gift the Elders at her village. Breads of various sorts, some fine aged Galloan wines, and a plethora of other specialty items, carefully packaged and bundled, cost of 20 gp. A small amount from the party funds, to be sure, but quite luxurious for foodstuffs nonetheless.
Saying their goodbyes, the party heads north. By the end of the day, they're reached the edge of cultivated lands. The road here, built during the initial colonization, ends. It is replaced with a fairly well-trodden path. Some people yet make their way between the northern outpost and Santa Merceda, but not many.
The night goes smoothly until the 3rd watch, just before dawn. Amideo is on guard duty, and as the light of the sun begins to turn the sky a purple-red, he spots what appears to be two wild chickens approaching the camp from the grasslands. On closer inspection, however, he notes the long, lizard-like tail, and wings more akin to a bat than a chicken.
Amideo prepares to awaken the party. They've faced one of these before. Cockatrice; avians that turn portions of their prey into stone.
Initiative
Cockatrice:
Djack remembers what that last one of these mixed up chickens they encountered and what it did to Yoltzin's leg... He charges the nearest one.
Not again!
Zia Initiative:
Amideo:
Initiative Order
Party except Rocko
Cockatrice
Rocko
Djack almost skewers one through, but the attack is off-side slightly and the creature still survives. Nevertheless, a solid hit.
Yoltzin, Zia, Amideo may act.
Zia casts Magic Missile at the one Djack just hit.
Between Djack's stab and Zia's missile, the horrid beast drops dead.
Pulling his rapier back Djack is petrified of being... petrified.
But instead, he senses the impacts into the avizard and witnesses the thing screeching to the ground in a puff of feathers, scales and guts.
It's good to have friends.
Holding on Yoltzin and Amideo.