Greatwall was the name used to describe the southern border keep placed strategically on the Western Shore of the East Sellen River as the river flowed out of Brevoy. The river kingdoms were a wild place, and Greatwall was a keep that made sure the wild elements stayed out of the precious lands controlled by House Lebeda. The East Sellen River was a very important trade artery, and Greatwall was a stronghold built to ensure it stayed protected.
You think of your future in Greatwall, and before your summons, it was fairly bleak. Perhaps you were one of the original farmers and watched it transform into a war-forged stronghold. Maybe you were a deserter or soldier who spent his term and ended up here. Maybe you arrived on one of the major merchant caravans that still passed through the trade routes to the east. Although war makes trading dangerous, it also makes it profitable. Maybe you were part of the numerous contingent of Abadar or from a small Erastil shrine. Could you have been sent to further House Lebeda's interest in maintaining control of this vital trade route?
You sit at the Behir and Beholder, the only tavern in Greatwall, taking the chill off early spring night. Suddenly the front door opens, and three soldiers enter--you recognize them as the sergeant of the guard and two men-at-arms. As they approach you, you see another three guard enter through the rear door and approach your table.
As they approach, the sergeant of the guard, a slightly corpulent man with a dangerous-looking scar running down the left side of his face, points his finger in your direction.
"YOU...YOU...YOU....YOU...and...YOU!!"
He indicates each of you in turn
"You are all wanted by the Captain of the Greatwall Guard."
Entering the 'Behir and Beholder' Kunala took his heavy cloaks hood off, looking around the room. Having spent the last three nights 'roughing it' in the woods he hoped he could figure out a way to spend the night indoors. He walked into the cozy tavern, shifting the scabbard at his side, pulling out a chair near the roaring fireplace. Leaning his bow in the corner, he took off his rucksack and dropped it by the chair. As he sat down he watched around the room, wondering who was in charge. His purse light, he considered how to approach the owner to ask if he could chop wood or muck stalls for a bit of stew and permission to sleep in the barns hayloft.
Seeing the three soldiers walk into the tavern he turned in his chair and faced away from the door. He doubted if word had gotten out that he'd left school to 'visit his sick mother' or that he was no longer at the 'Rivercat Lodge' but he'd rather not take any chances. When the sergeant turned and pointed at him, calling out 'You,' Kunala gave a sigh. Wishing he'd had more time by the fireplace, he stood picking up his rucksack and bow; asking, "He didn't happen to say what it's about did he?"
Not one to hide idly in a corner, Drektan has set up an impromptu stage in the corner instead, where he is reciting an epic where Cayden Cailean is trying to impress Shelyn in order to win a kiss, but she, of course, is having none of it. He's into the 12th outrageous act intended to impress when the guard comes in and indicates he should go. Now.
The cat tilts his head and looks confused. "Me?" Finger in his chest and everything.
"Why are you still standing there? MOVE!"
Drek cowers a little bit as he gathers his things and goes.
An ebony-skinned woman looks up from a tavern table. Her practical grey duster shifts when she straightens, revealing an arm wrapped over her stomach. Her other hand is wrapped around an empty mug. Anyone who has been in the tavern for a while has likely noticed she’s overstayed her welcome.
She’d spent the past two hours eyeing tables for leftovers. Occasionally someone gets up before their table is cleared, and she slinks past to grab the last swig of ale or a heel of bread moistened by the fragrant meat juices of a chicken leg or boar. One time, a patron got up to take a leak and she’d daringly walked by snagging an uncut chunk of meat and roasted carrot. She’s not a particularly sneaky thief, but she’s tenacious.
She pushes back from the table, arms braced on the wooden surface. “Okay, but I prefer payment upfront! Especially if it's dangerous.”
Amelia and Emre are just about to sit down when the sergeant comes in and points at the two of them.
"Wasn't the saying 'no rest for the wicked,'" she whispers to her sister before turning and putting on her best smile as she walks up to meet the sergeant.
"Of course, my good sir," she says, her voice pleasant and doign a fair job of hiding her road weariness. "Did the good captain mention why he wished to see us?"
Though given the, ah, eclectic group he has picked, and our part in it, I doubt it's to give us a warm welcome. I wonder how much of our reputation has made it out here.
She glances back at Emre, wondering if the Collector has the same misgivings about this as she does.
Before the confrontation with the guards, you recall what you know about this keep Greatwall......
Greatwall was constructed outside of the nation of Brevoy, but it is an official sanctuary of Abadar. Some refer to it as "The Vault" for it is the primary distribution center serving all trade down the river. Even some Abadar acolytes will tell you any trade that isn't along the river will cost over three times as much, and who wants to pay three times more?? So Greatwall is a collaboration between Abadar and their somewhat silent partner House Lebeda. Although soldiers in Greatwall wear Abadar insignia, many have noticed new arrivals arrived along the road wearing the House Lebeda swan as insignia, and switched to the golden key of Abadar as insignia. This is fine for jewelry, but expensive equipment within the ranks such as swords and shields, well they bear the Lebeda swan while the bearer also has a cloak clasp or necklace with the Golden Key.
Greatwall is on a low level of alert, they are reacting to a threat.
Amelia looks around, noting the mix of insignias. House Lebeda and the Church of Abadar, why the house wasn't more vocal about its partnership here strikes Amelia as strange, but Emre is the one that has the better nose for such things.
"Seems a bit odd that he would not tell us why the captain wished to see us, does it not," Amelia asks Emre in a low voice. Something is off about this, though Amelia cannot say why.
At her Amelia's quip ,Érme frowns but refrains from chastising her sister's black humour. Instead the tall inquisitor nods toward the sergeant;
"Duly noted Sergeant."
The angular half-orc impassively notes the countenance of the messengers and the presence of the flanking soldiers. Her gloved hand momentarily hovers at the cudgel at her hip before she speaks again...
"We will attend at the Captain's behest."
... before whispering a reply to her Sister in a tone matching Amelia's concern;
"It does indeed Sister. We should step warily."
Realizing a half elf that had been 'called out' asked the same question as he, Kunala looked towards the young lady. Realizing she was with the polite half orc, he wondered if they were of the same religious order, realizing they were whispering to each other, he didn't want to stare. So he took a quick look at the others; a second half elf that he'd noticed scavenging from tables and a Catfolk that was drawing a lot of undue attention.
Chuckling at the ebony skinned womans comment, he moved towards her, as they all began to follow the guards. "Payment would be nice, it'd mean getting to eat a meal I didn't have to kill first."
Amelia nods at Emre's advice.
"Then perhaps you should be our voice," she whispers. "You don't think they know of The Incident, do you?"
After the sergeant makes his entrance, an attractive half-elven lady gets up from her dinner at a corner table. "Sergeant, I am sure this business can wait for a short song!!"
Standing a mere five feet tall and weighing about ninety pounds soaking wet, her sandy-brown hair offset piercing green eyes. The patrons bang their mugs and plates and shout "Emerald!" repeatedly. The sergeant glares at the small woman who jumps on the bar as she tunes her twelve stringed lyre.
She announces : "This is for the caravan workers and their guards, whose work makes the masters here wealthy."
She sings in a clear voice as here fingers deftly work to pick the strings. Link to Emerald's song
After her song, the sergeant looks at you again, it appears six more soldiers wearing Abadar insignia have joined him.
"Huzzah! Well sung!" As Drek turns his attention back to the guard, he finds he has the number in his head wrong, and believes things are going downhill fast.
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Oh goody, just what we needed, more attention. I hope that song isn't about Emre and me.
Amelia politely claps as the last notes hang in the air, but keeps nervously glancing over to the ever increasing number of guards.
The ebony-skinned woman looks between both styles of dress - the pieces bearing the golden key of Abadar and House Lebeda's swan iconography but her expression remains consistent.
She remains standing while the bard performs. Frowning slightly, the half-elf claps politely with the others. Her hands fall, and she drags the index and middle of one hand along the table as she circles toward the guards. Her gaze is fixed on the guards, but her movements around the table are smooth like a cat's.
Her curls fall over her shoulder as she looks at the guards, then over to the other identified individuals. Her gaze lingers on the human man who seconded her opinion on payment. Then, she stares at the half-orc female, openly examining her armor and equipment.
Besides walking around the table, the half-elf doesn't approach the guards.
Watching to see if the sergeant relents and waits for the woman to sing, Kunala moves slightly, so his back was against the wall. Noting the sergeants glare at the woman, he gives a light smile. As long as the sergeant was glaring at her he wasn't bothering them.
Listening to the half-elf song, it reminded him of his mother's singing, though she preferred playing the lute. Occasionally glancing at the woman called Emerald, he kept a keen eye on the crowd and the door; noticing when six more soldiers entered the place. Having no particular love for Abadar, Kunala realized that his church did have a fair amount of power here.
Moving closer to the two women who seemed to be Abadaran acolytes, he asks quetly just before the song ends, "Ladies, any idea what's going on here?"
"I'm afraid I have none. We just arrived and were sitting down when he called us."
The sergeant escorts you, under guard, into the main hall of Greatwall Keep itself, a giant pillared room containing a massive, wall-length hearth. A raging fire warms the barren marble walls and floor, and illuminates a long and wide oaken table covered with parchment and maps.
After about ten minutes the guards snap to attention as double doors at the end of the hall swing open. In strides Gillmore, Captain of the Greatwall guard, a well-built man with a war-hardened face but a manner more cordial than the sergeant with the scar who escorted you here. He is wearing a suit of gleaming silver white plate armor with a large white swan and has a sheathed Aldori dueling sword.
"I must apologize for the manner in which Sergeant Krayquer has brought you here. But our time grows short. Please sit down and relax as I have something which I need to discuss with you."
He claps his hands twice and two servers appear with jugs of wine and begin serving you. Then he orders all but you and Sergeant Krayquer out of the room.
When all have left, he continues..."As you may not be aware, Pitax and bandit warlords continue to pressure us. This jeapordizes our strategic position as we rely almost entirely on outside sources for supplies, and the raids and violence have made the journey here too unprofitable for most merchants. Even our traditional trading partners in Willip now refuse to take the risk. I need to prove to them they can make the trip safely and profitably, and this is where you come in."
"I wish you to escort a caravan of three merchant wagons to Willip and back. The caravan leaves tomorrow at dawn and must return as quickly as possible to make our schedule. The wagons carry traditional trade goods to be exchanged for the food and supplies we need to keep the merchants and my benefactors happy."
"You must use the old Grabford-Critwall-Willip trail to resupply the border posts and show Willip merchants that it can be navigated safely. I understand this puts you near Sellen river, a stone's throw from east bank of the river that is not even loosely under our control.
"For you heroic service to Greatwall, I will award you 1000gp each upon your return."
After he claps his hands again, the sergeant departs and returns with sacks of 250gp that are placed in front of you.
"This additional payment should cover incidental expenses before you leave."
He looks at you confidently, not really expecting you to decline.
"Well, what do you say?"
Nodding to the half elf, he whispers as they begin to move. "I've just arrived by way of Restov" He smiles, figuring giving his name, was no harm. "Names Kunala, it's a pleasure to meet you."
Following the ladies and the catfolk into the main hall of the Greatwall Keep, Kunala moves close to the wall near the door. Leaning his longbow against the wall, he Shifts his rucksack from his right hand to his left, trying not to fidget as it seemed like they waited for an eternity. Once the double doors swing open, he watches the armored duelist walk into the room. Instantly recognizing his father's family crest, he looked nervously at the man's face, trying to recognize it as well as to notice any recognition there.
Relieved that the commander began speaking in general terms to everyone, he moves to the nearest chair, placing his rucksack beside it and sitting down. Watching as the servants pours the wine, his stomach begins to growl. Wishing the refreshments were appetizers instead of alcohol, he accepted the cup, but resisted the urge to sip on it, as the commander explained the situation.
Listening as the commander explained how the trade route worked, it was fairly common knowledge, even the constant threat of bandits. Kunala had intended on following the river south, but Willip was as good of a leaving place as any. Raising an eyebrow at the payment, Kunala considered his options. Leave Willip for southern parts with two hundred and fifty gold in his pouch. Or, return for the full payment and leave down river from here as he planned, just a few days later.
The decision quickly made, he could spend the two hundred and fifty gold on supplies and upgrades. Pausing in thought he could sleep in a bed after a hot meal. Smiling he sips the wine, asking, "If were to ship out in the morning, then we need to pick up incidentals tonight." He taps his leather armor, "I'd like to get my armor repaired and enhanced if possible, is there an Abadaran priest who might be able to help me?"
As she mulls her sisters words, Érme becomes aware of a whispered back and forth between Amelia and the tall young man who bears an Aldori blade at his hip.
She frowns at the pair of them, wary of the duellists intent with her pretty sister. She mutters an aside to Amelia...
"I do not think so sister. Unless the Archbankers have informed them..."
...before unsubtly positioning herself between the pair;
"Well met Master Kunala. I am Érme. This one is Amelia. We are the Coin sisters.”
At the Captain’s offer, Érme remains standing as she fills a cup with wine;
”The terms seem agreeable Captain; the reward balances the potential risk well.”
The lean Inquisitor takes a sip, offering a slight nod to Amelia before continuing;
”Speaking on behalf of my sister and myself - we accept.”
As the servants pour wine, the cat silently, but politely, accepts a cup, but is still standing. Once the room is emptied of everyone but the officer and tis rag-tag group of strangers, Drektan moves to stand behind a chair, but doesn't sit.
After hearing the terms, and being handed a bag of gold, the cat sits in the chair he was standing behind and pours the wine down his throat while others in the room agree to the "offer." "I do and go where the family tells me, Captain." He holds up the bag of gold. "Surely this is a mistake, though? I mean, yes, of course there are some things I need to purchase, but this is far more money than I should need to that end? It isn't like I will find new armor to fit my frame before morning."
Or what does he mean by enhance his gear?
The ebony-skilled woman mimics the human's introduction, leaning towards his ear: “Nice to make your acquaintance, Kunala. I’m Fiona.”
✿.｡*: ☆.
Fiona accepts the wine but doesn't immediately drink it.
The half-elf gazes around the table, watching someone else touch their offered coin pouch before reaching for her own. After observing the others, she slides her sack of coins closer and pokes the bag with the back of an ink pen. She loosens the drawstring to retrieve a shiny disk and holds it up to the firelight, turning it over several times.
Seemingly satisfied, she smiles at the Captain: "You won't be disappointed, Captain. I'll ignite the greasy hands of anyone who dares get close to the caravans." She returns the coin to its brethren and knots the bag before slipping it inside her duster. It seems to take her longer to store it as if she's securing it to the actual inner lining of her jacket.
He holds up the bag of gold. "Surely this is a mistake, though? I mean, yes, of course, there are some things I need to purchase, but this is far more money than I should need to that end?"
A brief expression crosses the half-elf's face. You can't tell if it's disgust or incredulity.
✿.｡*: ☆.
After responses are given to the Captain, she addresses the others: "I'm Fiona. If we'll be doing business, it's best we know one another."
"I'm glad to be able to offer my humble services to such an esteemed knight," Fiona adulates. “Possessing a keen eye for talent is a necessity when so many rely on you.” She takes her first sip of the poured wine and closes her eyes to savor the bitter flavor. "Mmm... May our meeting today pave the path to more fruitful business."
She leans back in her chair, fingering the stem of the wine glass she's nursing. "How many days travel is it to Willip and back?"
The half-orc is right: it’ll be dangerous. And the Captain sees us as disposable - I can see it on his smug face... Worst case: we’re overrun by bandits and I hightail one of the caravans to the next drop point. Driving a wagon can’t be that hard.
This cat needs to shut his trap about getting paid.
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"I would say well met and all that, but given the look we're getting from the sergeant, I wonder what kind of trouble followed us in," she whispers to Kunala, the worry eating at her belly doing a wonderful job of keeping her amusement at Emre's protective, if not overprotective, actions away from her expression.
"I don't suppose you heard anything when we came in, did you, Emre?"
Amelia returns Emre's nod with one of her own. She trusted her sister not to get them into trouble they couldn't handle, which is more than she could say for herself.
Despite her weariness, she stands and sips her wine, having learned long ago that having a cup close to her mouth tended to do wonders when it came to keeping it shut. Her eyebrows rise when she hears the catfolk protesting the payment. There is a story there, no doubt, but one that will need to wait until after everything is settled.
In the meantime, she might as well see if she has any luck gleaning what she can from the others.
Captain Gillmore listens to your questions carefully, pauses, then replies: "No mistake, this advance is yours--and the future reward.
There is room on the wagons, but the pace will not be excessive and some hump it as we say. If things go as planned this will take a month. The trail is a little overgrown. Just listen to the merchants and you will be fine.
I will bring in the Sergeant to give you the final briefing."
The scarred sergeant enters with a scowl.
"I wasn't sure all you layabouts would sign on, but you need to listen to me if you want your mission to succeed. Greatwall depends on you following all my instructions to the letter."
"First, kill any lizardmen on sight. We are sure they are agents for our enemies, and they cannot be allowed to escape and give word of any of your movements. They are conniving and cunning--do not allow them to mess with your heads."
"Next, the orcs will be a threat. They prefer the open ground where no one can take cover. Orcs prefer to fight in a single group rather than small bands, so where there is one orc, there will be the rest."
He thinks before adding: "You should find the travel between the forts rather routine until you reach the eastern border. The advances in gold should help. Unfortunately we have little in the way of magic to provide, potions, scrolls and wands are being used elsewhere."
He looks at you with a scowl. "Did you get that? No lizardmen live!!"
"Anyway, find the merchants and Emerald at the tavern I found you sots at. They should be ready to leave first thing tomorrow."
'Sisters, very odd, one half-elf and one half-orc. So same father and different mothers? Or sisters in Faith maybe? I've heard of religious folk refer to each other that way.' Nodding to the 'sister' in the wide brimmed hat Kunala turns and nods politely to Dark skinned half elf, "A pleasure ladies." As they walked to the keep, he realizes he'd need to make the acquaintance of the catfolk that was selected as well.
Watching each of the other 'invitees' as they speak up, Kunala is surprised by the Catfolk's deference to the money. Wondering what sort of traveler had no use for money. Then as 'fire hands' Fiona speaks of frying folks, he determines she must be some sort of caster. He chuckles slightly at her confidence, but also realizes that she'd made some observations that he'd not caught; so smart and beautiful. As the conversation waned, he looked towards the two 'Sisters.' He realized the one named Amelia was looking at him, wondering what this equally attractive half-elf was thinking.
A little unnerved by her silence, Kunala was relieved when the 'Sergeant' came out and began explaining how he wanted things done. He listened and nodded at the appropriate times. When the Sergeant pointed out they had 'little magic' to provide, he remembered his question about the priests.
Once the Sergeant was done speaking, he chimed in again; hoping the enlisted man would answer his question that the lord had ignored. "Sergeant, where is the temple of Abadar? If I speak to a priest tonight, they should be able to cast the spell in the morning before we leave." He lifts the bag of gold and smiled. "And fortunately I have the money to pay for it."
Pausing, the comment about money had him stop and think. "The trip is a month, will the caravan supply our food and water, or should we stock up?"
Fiona pushes her glass toward the center of the table. She's emptied about half the container. "If lizardmen are between me and my payment, I'll kill anyone you want." She smiles cordially but the warmth doesn't reach her eyes.
After Kunala inquires about food, the half-elf speaks up: "Do you have a map of the route with each stop? Or an area map?"
Sots, huh... At least he's honest about his feelings. He's blunt and judgemental, but unlikely to violate the agreement.
Oh good Sergeant Portly, am I afraid you've spent too much time in this fort and getting fat.
Amelia takes another sip of her wine and politely nods while fully intending to learn more from someone with actual competence about the situation on the road and ignoring the man's advice.
You sit at the Behir and Beholder, the only tavern in Greatwall, taking the chill off early spring night. Suddenly the front door opens, and three soldiers enter--you recognize them as the sergeant of the guard and two men-at-arms. As they approach you, you see another three guard enter through the rear door and approach your table.
As they approach, the sergeant of the guard, a slightly corpulent man with a dangerous-looking scar running down the left side of his face, points his finger in your direction.
"YOU...YOU...YOU....YOU...and...YOU!!"
He indicates each of you in turn
"You are all wanted by the Captain of the Greatwall Guard."
that last 'you' was at me wasn't it? *sigh* lemme guess, another guard went off trail and needs finding or worse yet, burying? Tacitus thinks to himself, sitting in a dim, dark, unlit corner of the tavern with a small table that could almost be called a step stool by the big folk.
He recognized the Sergeant as one who reports to the captain, all Lebeda men.He notices the other 5 'you's and keep quiet the entire conversation in the tavern. It's like they dont even know I was here the whole time he thinks as he follows the guards and and group outside.
Tacitus once again hung in the back of room during most of the conversation up until then, taking the last mug of wine from the servant, most likely not even seen by the group, and taking one sip before deciding it was far too sweet for his taste and setting the cup aside.
After hearing the terms, and being handed a bag of gold, the cat sits in the chair he was standing behind and pours the wine down his throat while others in the room agree to the "offer." "I do and go where the family tells me, Captain." He holds up the bag of gold. "Surely this is a mistake, though? I mean, yes, of course there are some things I need to purchase, but this is far more money than I should need to that end? It isn't like I will find new armor to fit my frame before morning."
I can't help but agree with the kitty, if Lebeda as willing to spend this much gold on us, why not send their own troops? there has to be an ambush or something they aren't telling us.... I'll have to keep that in my thoughts over the next month. It's not like I'm going to turn down the gold....
The scarred sergeant enters with a scowl.
"I wasn't sure all you layabouts would sign on, but you need to listen to me if you want your mission to succeed. Greatwall depends on you following all my instructions to the letter."
And I depend on me thinking for myself thank you very much...
He looks at you with a scowl. "Did you get that? No lizardmen live!!"
Makes sense. Bullets go towards Orcs and Lizards.
As everyone begins taking and looking at their bags of 250 gold a small hand reaches up from below the table and grabs the last one, possibly surprising you, as a voice you haven't heard says, "The cat is right, the purse is large because the risk is large, though for this price I don't anyone who would turn it down. I'm Taddy by the way." he adds before clambering up on the nearest chair to take a look at the maps on the table.
You are able to get a good look at the halfling before you now. Jet black hair and beard that hasn't been maintained in at least a few weeks and clad in a Poncho, over a lamellar Cuirass and a kilt that goes down to just above his the reddish tufts of hair atop his feet. across his back is a strange looking club with a leather strap attached at its tip. His gear is well worn but well maintained and he has the look of an outdoor type.
while looking over the maps, Well I can see why the captain picked me, if the trails are overrun, and likely nonexistant in some places, the caravan will need help finding its way. he took a good look at the others, I supposed i've led worse groups through the brush before, at the very least the caravan wont be an easy target.
Pausing, the comment about money had him stop and think. "The trip is a month, will the caravan supply our food and water, or should we stock up?"
"An excellent question, I can usually find enough food in the wild for me and Mafetous but unless you all can survive on roots and berries, we'll need some more food if we are looking at a month long journey, not that I'm opposed to roots and berries mind you," he adds before taking out a pipe and snuff box and begins packing the pipe with tobacco. while he's working at that, without looking up, he asks "has anyone else here been out in the woods for that long before? or ran protection on a caravan? or been in a caravan?" hoping to gauge all his new companions level of useful, or uselessness, early.
Érme listens to the advice of first the Captain, then the Serjeant, however at the scarred soldier's advice her stare hardens.
She leans in to her sister to share her assessment;
"Unlike his appetite for rations, the Serjeant's tactical acumen is lacking. Bookbinder Levarre's The Price of War stated orcs favour broken terrain and small group assaults..."
The inquisitor notes the inaccuracy for discussion amongst the group later as she also takes another sip of her wine in tandem with her Sister's.
As others speak she notes the cannier questions being posed by the Kunala and Fiona.
Questions on preparedness and planning. A good portent. She is full of bravado and confidence. As for the swordsman, perhaps I was wrong about that one. Sharp in mind as well as blade.
At Fiona's request for a map she nods in agreement;
"We Abadarian's have a saying Serjeant: While coin is King. Knowledge is Queen. A map of the route or almanac of landmarks would allow us to best prime for this commission."
Holding up her cup to hide her mouth, Amelia whispers back to her sister.
"I thought I remembered reading that somewhere. Makes the rest of what he says suspect in my eyes. We'll need to find someone who knows what's what to see what they say."
Letting others handle questions of supply and information, Amelia turns her attentions to the diminutive woodsman that seems to have apparated out of nothing.
Hello there. I wonder if that head on your shoulders is as level as it sounds.
"If you can't spare a map, I can probably copy the basics quickly enough. A thorough copy would be better, but then I wouldn't be ready to travel on the morrow." The cat stops for a moment, rolling his shoulders and lifting his head higher before he tilts it looking at the Sergeant. "Or do we need to purchase a map? And the question of basic supplies seems extremely relevant."
Drektan continues to try to stay out of everyone's way, doing so with a practiced grace. He doesn't acknowledge Tacitus any more (or any less, if it was possible) than he has the others to this point.
Sergeant Krayquer seems much less personable and caring than Captain Gilmore. He laughs:
"The merchants will help you get equipped and spend your money. If you are in, head to the tavern and meet Emearald and her merchant friends.
Arriving at the tavern, you meet the trio of merchants.
Malin is a boisterous man 5' 9" and carries at least an extra fifty pounds. His full brown beard and mustache frame a fun-lowing face with a double chin, but grey has begun to streak his chestnut brown hair. He seem to be a little grumpy, maybe due to waiting for his 'escorts'.
Emerald is a beautiful, poised half elf of less than ninety founds and stands less than five feet. She is less than 24 and she seems to hold an unusually responsible position as the number two and chief of logistics for the caravan.
Jasmalus, another human in mid fifties, stands a full 6'1" weighing about a buck fifty (150#) giving him a frail and tired look. His solid white hair tapers into a nicely trimmed beard/moustache combo, but his clothing looks like that of a ragged beggar.
As Malin engages you in conversation, he quickly seems to take in the group and sighs.
He is disappointed in the experience of the party
Malin explains: "We move out tomorrow. I know you have an advance. I would buy some horses for mobility and the deterrence that mounted men tend to provide. You can ride on our wagons, but disembarking from them is not easy in a crisis. I can purchase minor items for you from the stock upstairs worth up to the 250gp you were alotted. I can bring items, weapons, and armor and get them transformed into masterwork quality from the priest too. Prepare a list, and I can get what you need with my people skills."
A graceful elf sweeps into the group, it is surprising you hadn't noticed him before. Barely five feet tall and wearing traveling clothes similar to the merchants. He looks like a typical elf, but his eyes are quite recessed. He plops down 250 gold pieces. "I need a shirt of the chain, well made to keep the hindrance down. I also need this Brevan crest placed on it if you can." He drops the money and a sketch of a swan on a lake.
The crest is that of House Lebeda
You also note he has moved next to Emerald and has managed to touch her on the sleeve, whisper in her ear, and make her blush a pretty crimson all within the span of five minutes while downing a full tankard of ale and starting on a second one. He gestures to Malin with the tankard.
"I need that crest. I do admit my royal bloodline is still being checked, but rest assured, I am worthy of all the honors given me."
He makes a series of quick hand gestures to your group. Then bows with a sweep of his arm.
As the dark-skinned elf asks about a map, Kunala turns her way, recognizing it as a good question he looks towards the sergeant, pleased that some of the others chimed in. Seeing motion under a table he notices the halfling. Raising an eyebrow as the fellow climbs out from under the table, it reminds him of a 'bawdy' jest his brother had told him. But looking around the room he wasn't sure if any of the ladies would find it humorous. Sitting up in his chair, he nods to the little fellow, "Welcome Taddy, I'm Kunala." He nods his head towards the door, "When I was younger, I hunted in the woods north of here with my stepfather. But that's been a while back, for the last several years I've been away at school." As he speaks he rests his hand on the handle of his dueling sword, indicating what sort of school he'd attended. Not wanting to admit he left school out of fear, he adds, "Decided it was time to see the world."
As the sergeant dismisses them, Kunala steps to the door, holding it open for the others. While wondering if the woman who sang was the same Emerald Kayquer spoke of, he begins to consider what gear he needs to acquire. He'd brought a short bow, but a long bow would give him better range. Having his armor enhanced would make it more pliable, so he would be able to move easier. A horse would be nice, but one not trained in combat would be useless, besides, he could walk as fast as a wagon. So when he entered the tavern, he had a pretty good idea of what he'd need.
Looking at three merchants, Kunala was pleased that the Emerald the sergeant spoke of was the half elf singer. Looking from the short fat man, to Emerald, to the tall man he was curious that one so young would travel with the two old merchants. As the short fat man begins to speak Kunala can tell by is demeaner that he's disappointed in the experience of the party. When Malin declares that he can get items transformed, Kunala takes off his cloak and belt, laying them on a nearby table. As he takes off his leather Lamellar armor he lays it on the table before the merchant, then straightens his military style double breasted gray jacket. He then retrieves his short bow, laying it on the table as well. Speaking politely, "Please have the armor transformed and sell the short bow and purchase a long bow, preferable one locally made frow yew." As he counted out a few coins from his pouch he dropped the pouch holding the remaining coins on the table, asking. "There was a question raised about food and water and a quality map. Will you be providing the first two and do you have access to the third?"
Seeing the elf walk in and drop a purse similar to their own, Kunala watches him. Raising an eyebrow as he recognizes the crest. Watching the elf's interaction with Emerald, Kunala's expression draws a little sallow. As the elf turns and addresses them, Kunala responds. "Welcome, I'm Kunala." He gestures towards the sketch, "The crest of Lebeda? How are you related?"
Tacitus approaches Malin apprehensively,"I'll take a potion of cure light wounds and a scroll with 2 castings of the same please, as well as a vial of antiplague and antivenom. Are you sure you can get all this before morning?" he asks dubiously as he counts out 200 gold coins.
"as for a horse, I never cared for them myself, too tall. I'll stick to riding Mafetous, he should still be stabled."
If only a swan on the coat was the only thing you needed to claim house lebeda, it would be the largest house in the region!" he thinks to himself while carefully securing the rest of his coins in his purse.
Sitting up in his chair, he nods to the little fellow, "Welcome Taddy, I'm Kunala." He nods his head towards the door, "When I was younger, I hunted in the woods north of here with my stepfather. But that's been a while back, for the last several years I've been away at school." As he speaks he rests his hand on the handle of his dueling sword, indicating what sort of school he'd attended. Not wanting to admit he left school out of fear, he adds, "Decided it was time to see the world."
"Pleased to meet you Kunala, I hope you learned more than sums and letters at that school." Taddy says eyeing the sword.
"I seem to remember a young boy on a few hunting trips years ago... could he have grown up into this man already?"
Turning to the halfling hunter, Kunala lifted his cup in salutations. Answering cheekily, "There were sums and letters?"
As the halfling came out into the light he was able to get a better look at the fellow. He seemed familiar, Kunala tried to remember the face, but it escaped him. Seeing the halfling sling staff, he remembered; Onnello had introduced them, wanting he and Iradiel to see the halfling ranged weapon.
Pausing, he tried to remember if Onnello had told Tacitus who he was. Frustrated that he couldn't remember if it was before mother had married Onello or not, Kunala tried to put it out of his memory.
As the group meet with the merchants, Érme keeps her sister close as she appraises their charges;
However the throng of new faces, both before and around her, stymie any meaningful insight.
Inwardly frustrated she listens to the inventory and service available with an impassive expression, before unbuckling her own armour.
"Greetings. I trade this Lamellar Cuirass for an Armoured Coat and 10 Crossbow bolts. The 44 gold it accompanies gives a 5 silver profit. A fair deal and my thanks."
It was not a question from the lean Inquisitor, nor a demand; merely a statement of fact.
As attention is drawn by the confident scion of Lebeda, Érme looks to Amelia, then back to the demanding incomer.
"What he needs are manners."
The cat quietly waits in the back, until the others have all placed their orders, ten he moves forward.
"I have been thinking about what is offered, and what I have." He removes his studded leather armor, placing it on the table, along with the complete bag of gold. "I would like an exceptionally crafted chain shirt, an armor which won't care about how my legs are shaped or move, and a map of the area we will be traveling. I hope the armor I'm providing will cover the cost of the map. If not, how much more would be required?"
Fiona looks over the halfling and longer at his black and white companion. She doesn't smile or laugh at Taddy's jests but routinely steals glances at his animal.
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The ebony-skinned woman quickly clarifies: "You bring up a valid point, but I'll be riding in one of the wagons. It'll be better if they don't immediately spot my spellbook." She pats the tome hanging at her waist.
Fiona listens to the others put in their purchase orders. Then requests her own: "I need a light crossbow, bolts, and a canteen." She inclines her head slightly, "...make it 30 bolts." She fishes out 40 gold coins and hands it to the portly merchant. "Thank you, Malin."
Perhaps her coin pouch feels heavy because she makes another request: "I'll take a map of the area if you have it. And five sheets of parchment." The half-elf retrieves 51 more coins to fund her impulse purchases.
"Is feeding us part of the arrangement, or do we need to buy that from you too?"
✿.｡*: ☆.
"It's strange to have so many half-elves together on a small expedition. I'm Fiona," she introduces herself to the merchants. "You sing beautifully, Emerald. It's nice to know we'll have some entertainment!"
Best to win favor with the most willing first.
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Amelia leans in a little closer to Emre after her observation on the half-elf.
"Too bad Banker Talantus isn't here. I'm sure he'd do a splendid job," she whispers back to Emre. [/smaller]"At the very least it'd be entertaining to see someone else on the receiving end of one of his tirades."[/smaller]
After watching the interplay between the various members of the group for a moment, Amelia decides it's time to put her best foot forward and try making a good impression.
"Apologies for not properly introducing my sister and myself," she says with gregarious smile to Emerald. "I'm afraid we didn't even have time to sit down before the good sergeant swept us away. I am Amelia Coin and this is my sister Emre Coin. You're song, Miss Emerald, was a delight to hear. I only wish we could have truly enjoyed it with some drinks in hand, but alas, such is the sometimes cruel whims of fate."
"I do not require much in the way of goods, some feed for two horses if you will not be providing any and perhaps a small wagon, if you have one to spare. I would like to see if you have some information. I fear that Sergeant Kayquer has spent a bit too long in the fort engorging himself and may not have the best grasp on what is going on."
She smiles, and a gleam in her eye that Emre recognizes all to well shines as she sits and steeples her fingers under her chin.
"So, my good sirs and lady, would any of you care to relieve me of my ignorance or point me towards someone who could tell me more about what has been happening on the route we are to take?"
Malin provides Fiona a map of the area and sends a burly teamster to retrieve the other supplies requested by the group. Diplomatic overtures towards the merchants are reciprocated as the merchants purchase a round of drinks for their new caravan guards.
"We have plenty of food and provisions for the horses, as we are bringing similar supplies to supply the outposts along the river."
Malin seems to be guileless, but those of you that have served House Lebeda doubt that the elf has any royal blood at all.
Later in the evening as the tavern gets more crowded, the crowd calls for Emerald. Instead, the elf jumps up on the bar and introduces himself as Jasper. He turns to Emerald and says: "Play that song I wrote for you after we met."
He seems to be singing to her to impress her, but as she masterfully streams the lyre she seems unimpressed. After he is done, Emerald jumps up on the bar to play her own song that she sings to him. It is obvious that he broke her heart at some time.
Sergeant Krayquer enters to remind everyone the caravan will be loaded at first light and leave shortly after.
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Amelia and Erme are summoned to meeting a room behind a stairwell in the keep by a priest wearing holy robes and an ornate gold holy symbol of Abadar.
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Oh dear. It seems that trouble is afoot. I wonder how long until the fireworks begin.
Amelia watches the two performers with a pained expression as she eats her supper. The summons is almost a godsend by comparison.
Amelia blinks and focuses on the priest, not sure which is the more unbelievable, that he asked whether betraying someone you have a contract with was acceptable behavior or that he asked for them to write an essay on what to do and have it done by the morning.
"Emre, I fear that I may be coming down with an ear infection or something. Did the good banker here just ask us to write an essay on whether or not violating a contract is in accordance with Abadar's teachings? Then, ask us to have it ready before we leave early tomorrow morning?"
Fiona slides her gifted drink to the halfling and stands. "I'm going to call it a night. You all enjoy the festivities." The half-elf is the first to leave following Sergeant Krayquer . "See you at first light."