Adventurers gather in Greatwall to protect vital trade routes.
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?
Hanspur was the diety nobody liked to talk about around Greatwall. Rumor has it the river traders would drown things to make sure their run through the dangerous lands would be successful. Sometimes these things were people, and it was rumored that Hanspur himself had taken an interest in the river kingdoms personally. One thing that was for sure, he probably didn't want the wild and chaotic riverlands turned into another Brevoy.
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."
Inqusition? Wait, unlikely that they go after everyone, and I dont know these other guys... So lets play my cards close to my chest
He stands up and leans on his Bardiche.
And what would your good captain want us for? If he wishes to enter cointractual negotiatiunns concerning provoidering of good an proper violence, all he need, your need, is ask poloitely.
He gives a very toothy grin, showing his sizeable incisors.
Upon entering the Behir and Beholder, Brightberry and Redleaf have been doing their best to look inconspicuous, which is difficult for small creatures made almost entirely of vines.
A means to an end, a means to an end. This is where all the persons at camps said to go to get gold.
"Look for one of those papers on a wall listing jobs, Redleaf. Or someone looking to give orders. We need a quest-giver paper/person."
When the sausage sized finger point down toward Brightberry, his leaves all close up and pull in tight. He thinks instantly of becoming a corner plant, but that won't work. He's already been singled out.
"Captain of the guard, Redleaf. This could be our quest-giver!"
Puffing his leaves back out, Brightleaf will step forward, next to the half-orc. Although he is a stranger, he is big. And he seems to have been grouped together with him. Redleaf looks around the room with a rustling sigh, and follows closely behind.
Brightberry gives a smile as well, showing off a couple of tiny thorns in place of incisors, and mimicks Sigvlad's stance with his small spear.
This is where it all begins. Fit in.
Uh, Leshy? Interesting. My homelands forests had some issues surviving the demon invasion, and I think the population got wiped out or fled to the first world, using the rumored gate at the bottom of the lake lost to the sun...
He pauses
Ragdahn is a proper a&#$&++, and he properly beat the shit out of the demons that tried to invade into his turf from the portal there. Worthy of respect for sure.
"Could you repeat that last part again? It was hard to catch it through your slurred speech," a young half-elf shifted closer to a drunken man at the bar, pen and parchment at the ready. When the drunkard repeated himself, the half-elf nodded excitedly and scratched down the words. "Wonderful. I have not heard this song before…those Galtans sure are a morbid bunch.”
Remis stood and began to move one finger in a poor imitation of a conductor and launched into the middle of the song. “The executioner’s Final Blade, a Gray Gardener’s face. Discount theater agitprop. Council’s take on race. Brand new Senate Speaker, easy answers, civil war. The whole world at your fingertips, rioters at your door.”
He was still muttering the words to himself when the sergeant shouted for his attention. “There it is again, that funny feeling. That funny feeling…” Realization hit and he let the song die.
“Pardon me, sir, but I do not know these, uh,” Remis took stock of the others and of the guards, "nevermind. I’m sure we’ll all get along well enough.”
Elfriede sets down a few mugs of ale on one of the tables, narrowing her eye at the guard sergeant. She's about to shake her head no and go back for the next tray of beer - after all, nothing the guards could offer her is worth messing up a good thing, not when she hasn't had good things going in a while. Still, there's that feeling on the back of her neck, like she's being watched but not by anyone she can see, so instead she unties her apron and sets it on the counter. "I'm taking my break now. Jaki, let's go."
"Jaki doesn't gain if you won't work!" A magpie hops onto Elfriede's shoulder and pulls on a chain around her neck. Once he's pulled up a trio of holy symbols, he starts picking at an eye with his beak before she grabs it and pushes it back into her dress, pushing his head back as she does.
Turning from the counter, she continues staring at the guard captain."What do you lot want this time? Is this about Restov? I already told you, I had nothing to do with it, and I'm sure that young man will be fine." Hopefully... As she talks, she pulls the eyepatch over her left eye down, making sure it's fully covered. Her right eye blinks a few times and waters against the tavern's scant light.
Tibold scowls into the last few drops of his ale. The impending end of his imbibement caused a resurgence of the war between his careful financial planning and his desire to just become rip roaring drunk.
Things had not exactly been going according to plan since Tibold's arrival in Greatwall. The latest potential financiers of his desired secret haven for alchemical experiments had been exposed as diabolic cultists sacrificing unexpecting itinerants who were seduced with promises of good things. The fact the married couple had been being raided with quite the bloody magical showdown as Tibold approached their street had been quite a disappointment. The idea he might have been sacrificed oddly was less concerning than the fact there would be no laboratory.
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 Tibold's direction.
"YOU...YOU...YOU....YOU...and...YOU!!"
He indicates several bar patrons in turn including Tibold.
"You are all wanted by the Captain of the Greatwall Guard."
"Seriously now. I promise I don't know anything else about the Briarwoods and that situation. Let me drink the sorrows of my misfortune in peace," Tibold sighs managing to sound both annoyed and beset upon simultaneously.
As the rest of the pointees begin lining up, Tibold hears the one with orc-blood seemingly issue a veiled threat to guards. He tosses back the last of the bland ale and scoots his chair back placing a hand on his pack but remains seated for the moment to see how this plays out.
Sitting at a corner table in the Behir and Beholder, Saorise considers her funds while nursing a drink, planning what she would do next to earn herself some coin.
Having given up banditry...at least for the meanwhile...she would have to fall back on her other talents. Fortunately, there was plenty of opportunity for fiery haired lass with the 'voice of an angel' as more than one traveling or drinking companion had said over the years, and she was a fair hand with the lute sitting on the floor beside her as well.
Looking up from her thoughts as the door bursts open, she arches an eyebrow as the lumbering Sergeant of the guard, a man she'd made a point o' steering clear of as much as possible, pointed to her and a few other in the place, indicating the were wanted by the guard Captain, though she had to admit to being grateful that they'd interrupted some half elf a few tables over completely butchering a song like a stuck pig.
"I'd have to agree wi' the rest o' this lot. If yer wanting me to come along wi' you to see the Captain, ye'd best be tellin' us what this be about." she says in a musiacally lilting tone.
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.
Yes, this guard man is our questgiver. We will be paid for doing some silly job and that will lead to better jobs for more gold.
Brightberry looks over to Redleaf with his thorn toothed smile, to which Redleaf returns with a woody stare. Redleaf does glance to the corner of the tavern a couple of times, seemingly stealing glances at the red-haired woman after she speaks.
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.
Brightberry, completely perplexed, looks from Emerald to the Sergeant to Sigvald and then the others to see what they do.
This feels different.
Leaning, with a slight creak, toward Sigvald, Brightberry asks, "Are we being given a job, or put in a cell?". His stage whisper carries rather well.
Tibold relaxes as Emerald the bard begins her song, and he signals the serving girl with the mouse-brown hair () for another round, brandishing a whole silver to get her attention. Might be my last drink in a while depending on what they want, might as well splurge, he thinks, justifying the undesired expenditure to himself.
He just shakes his head and mutters "Nothing seems familiar at all."
Tibold eyes the empty mug one last time with regret. He winces visibly as the strange leshy voices the question on everyone's mind.
Elfriede rolls her eye at Emerald. Business always has to wait for pleasure here. She turns her head just slightly toward some man paying for a drink, then looks away from him.
"I think I just said I was taking my break. You'll have to..."
She trails off as Jaki the magpie hops over, grabs the man's coin, and deposits it in a little pouch on Elfriede's waist. "Jaki gains! Now work!"
With a quick glance at the bartender to make sure he didn't see the coin or what the bird did with it, Elfriede grabs a mug and fills it, spilling a bit. She passes it over to the man, slopping a touch more on the counter, then looks away from both him and the fool of a half elf who's singing. "There. Now, I'm on my break."
After the song is over, she stares at the now-dozen guards in the tavern. "If it was a cell, they'd have hustled us out of here, song or no. If it was a beating, they'd do that one at a time, and they wouldn't be talking. So it's either a job...or something else."
If it's getting thrown out again, it wouldn't be the first time. I guess it'd be further south toward Pitax if that happened?
Reinforcements, hmmm, the sergeant seems a smarter cookie then he looks.
The large half Orc stands, he does not seem in an overly aggressive posture, but those with experience in violence would sense him to be ready to erupt.
Listening intently as Emerald performs her song, noting the simple strumming rhythm of her lyre playing, noting the woman's talent.
'Not bad, and she seems right popular 'round here. Definitely something to keep in mind if whatever the Guard Captain wants isn't either profitable or calls for gettin' the hells outta town fast.'
Slinging her lyre over her shoulder, the bard finishes her drink, getting to her feet and lightly resting a hand on the hilt of her rapier as she watches the other in the room. The huge half-orc especially made the air around him prickle with the promise of killing.
The sergeant escorts you, under guard, into the main hall of Greatwall Keep itself, a giant pillared room containing a massive, wall-length heart. 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?"
Entering the great hall, Brightberry and Redleaf both ogle at the size and craftmanship.
This is so very alien. No hint of life whatsoever in this...oh! look at the size of that fire.
The small plant people give the hearth a wide birth. AFter being asked to take a seat, Brightberry nimbly climbs atop a chair and stands on the seat, putting him at about the same height as the rest of the group. Redleaf stands stoically behind the chair. He takes in the parameters of the mission, letting the political implications wash over him, and nods his little head. At the mention of 1000 gold the vines comprising of his body undulate, creating a faint rustling sound, before going still.
Does he not expect us to return? Is that why he is offering such an insane amount of gold? Or is this mission just that important? Would he profit from our death? No. He could profit by having us complete the mission, and then kill us! He gets what he wants and no need to pay. And we would certainly do our best for that amount of coin. Shrewd. I just have to make sure Redleaf and I don't die after the fact. Stay seen, don't be lead to a trap. Have witnesses to my getting the gold. Much to think about. That gold would be two more leshies for the cause.
"We are in. I, Brightberry, and Releaf here can do this thing. Will we need to buy mounts with that gold, or will they be provided? Or will there be room on the wagons?"
A great basis for future contract, but allow me to ask some questions The half orcs speaks.
First, I am guessing Pit-Axed (Pitax) is keeping the involvement clowndestine (clandestine)? Not carrying their own banners? Is there any bonus for bringing proof of Pit-Axedian involvement such as prisoners, plots, plans, maps, weapons of their manufacture? He pauses, while thinking.
Also, salvage roights? Anything we take from Bandits attacking us enroute is ours roight, if its proof you get to buy it off us for a fair proize?
Third, we are to treat any enemy as bandits roit , meaning they get no prisoner of war rights, other then not getting killed, unless they can proof that they are Pit-Axedian men of war, in this case we get a bonus if we transport them to the next fort haha.
He smiles, very very toothily.
And while employed by you we are not part of Greatwalls armed forces. Meaning you are under no obligation to ransom or exchange us in case of captivity, which would frankly be weird because who would do this for first timers in ones employ. He speaks, it is becoming quite obvious that he has been in contract negotiations before.
The Leshy asks a good question. I predominantly fight on foot myself. I would also like a good look at some maps, trying to figure out where I would put an ambush if I was a mercenary hired to attack your traderoutes. He pauses
If thats agreeable I would like to have the contract in writing, as normal, 2 copies one me one you. Preferably both in common, to not have translation issues, but I can do Orcish or Abyssal if required, I would prefer common because writing or reading Abyssal gives me a headache, and orcish lacks legal terms.
As a relatively new arrival, Saorise wasn't familiar with much pf the details in the Captian's description, knowing only that the white swan on the man's armor named him loyal to House Lebeda.
Taking in the expressions of the others chosen for this task as the Captain speaks, she studies each face, an unbidden smile curling the corner of her lips at the sight of the little plant person standing atop the chair to look down the table.
"T'is no easy thing yer askin', but yer payin' more than well enough, all things considered. Ye can count me in." the dazzling redhead says with a smirk, taking a sip of wine.
'Not bad'
Brightberry stares at Sigvald with wonder.
I will need to get Redleaf a nice backpack too. And maybe a packdog.
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Remis’ feet moved of their own volition toward the others. His eyes firmly locked on Emerald, his ears on he song.
“Wow,” was all he could muster when her song ended. “Wait! It started with ‘Deep in the rocky hills..no, that wasn’t right.”He was just about to approach Emerald when the newly formed group was ushered out of the building and into the streets. “Oh..maybe next time.”
As the group left, a big, shaggy, gray dog trotted out from behind a stack of crates and fell in step beside Remis. "Good girl," he said and scratched the dog behind one ear.
Rough escort to a large room to wait for someone of a higher status to make some grand entrance? That was old hat for Remis. What he didn’t expect was for the Captain to be sporting the symbol of House Lebeda.
Remis took a seat at the Captain’s suggestion and gave a mek smile to the server who filled his cup, “Thank you, he whispered.
That big guy seems to have some experience with stuff like this. I wonder if any of the others are used to these sorts of negotiations? He pondered.
He waited for a pause after the others spoke to chime in, one hand resting on the sack of coin. “I have not heard of the Grabford-Vritwall-Willip trail prior to this. What sort of terrain would we be looking to cross? Grasslands? Forest? And we should probably be forewarned of any other things we are liable to come across besides bandits. If that is possible?”
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Elfriede sits, but ignores the wine, crossing her arms and glowering at the guard captain as he makes his speech.
Jaki hops over to Elfriede's sack of gold and starts trying to pull it open as Elfriede thinks about the job. It gets us out of here, sends us south, and if we don't come back with the others, we still get away with these coins. The tingle on the back of her neck happens again.
"Jaki and I are in." She pushes the magpie off the bag, then scoops it toward her with both arms.
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When it became apparent there was no choice but to follow the exponentially increasing number of guards willing to forcibly remove them from the tavern, Tibold complied willingly as he had planned to all along.
Their destination certainly surprised the alchemist. The heavy stonework he'd expected, but not the hearth and wine. Rather than dank dreary granite, gorgeous polished marble reflected the firelight from the crackling blaze throughout the room. The man who appeared before the motley crowd was resplendent in armor clearly befitting his station but also indicating his readiness for a fight at any moment. Tibold had no illusions who would likely come out on top if a fight were to occur in this moment. Tibold noticed the swan on his chest and couldn't help but wonder if he should know something about it. Generally Tibold was pretty unaware of anything which didn't further his own craft.
The dark-haired alchemist carefully sat down and swirled the wine to release the bouquet. Not that he had much experience with fine wine. All he knew was that it smelled good. His alchemist nose did begin to separate some of the various smells, but truth be told, he mainly did it to calm his nerves, give his hands something to do. A taste of it provided hints of blackberry, plum, and some spices with which he wasn't familiar.
Then Captain Gillmore laid out his proposition. Tibold frowned slightly. I just arrived here. How do they even know if I could contribute to this plan? he wondered. He was about to ask how in the world he had been selected for such a risky and potentially lucrative venture when the fierce looking orc-blood piped up with a gush of legalese jargon.
Tibold boggled at the man remembering the time he'd been forced to employ the services of a barrister over a possible "accidental" poisoning Tibold had been accused. Isn't this perfect, someone already lawyering the rules, and we haven't even misbehaved yet. Tibold eyed the rest of the group. Yes, there's certainly no doubt these are the kind of folk to disregard any laws hindering their ability to reach their own goals.
Once there is brief silence, Tibold clears his throat. "Yes, Captain Gillmore, I won't say that I'm not intrigued and very much interested in the rewards for this endeavor, but I feel I must ask." Tibold pauses and glances at his fellow recruits? Captives? Coerced volunteers?
"Why me, precisely? If someone has advised you of my skills and sung my praises, I would surely love to thank them...personally."
Captain Gillmore listens to your questions carefully, pauses, then replies: "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. Horses can be purchased with your advance, but I wouldn't ride a mount if you aren't accustomed to it. We won't be signing any contracts, because the one thing I need, the assurance that you won't run when things get tough, is not something signing a contract will provide. The merchants will be in charge, and you will follow their orders--they know the route. Any stolen property the merchants will bring back, the rest is yours."
Then he turns to Tibold with a smile: "What a request. I think your skills are that you have not a local and have not been here long, and seem to be able to handle yourself in a fight. Please disqualify yourself if any of these three things are not true. 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."
I am not averse to taking a contract with Pitax, the seargent is wrong about orc tactics, and that can be exploited
Also, genociding the Lizards? For operational security, which we wont f#@!ing have because haha, keeping a caravan that size hidden? Bleh, genocide costs extra. Did a Lizard seduce his imaginary girlfriend? Do they want us as black ops to mass murder so they arent directly responsible?
No contract is concerning, very concerning given that he is Abadarian. Betrayal senses tingling. That the genocide order comes from the seargent, not from the captain? And is not written? Very very concerning. Lets poke.
If they dont pay me I murder idiots, thus steadily increasing average intelligence levels, until they do. That often works.
I am a Gorrumite, if Lizards or Orcs surrender I am compelled by divine mandate to accept, lest I anathemize against the Lord in Iron.
He states matter of factly.
Customs of war surprisingly enough sometimes protect me as well. Got captured by Nocticulans once, was freed after pledging to never willingly and knowingly act against her interests. Fair enough deal. Crusader captured alongside me didnt take it, he died pleseantly, I lived.
If you want me to do genocide I want that order in writing, signed by your captain.
If not, I will treat it as a standard caravan escort, kill anythign attacking the caravan, try to kill runners, but do not pursue them because feigned retreats are a thing, Lizards run fast, and they could just fake a withdrawal, draw us out and then come at the caravan in our absence.
At Captain Gillmore's answer, Tibold smiled and conceded wordlessly. He raised a hand palm up and lowered his head in concession. Still no closer to knowing how these locals know a thing about me. Hmmm.
Obviously the gold would go a long way towards his dreams of setting up an alchemy laboratory, so he couldn't see any reason to turn it down aside from just simple self-preservation. After all, his original plans and reasons for coming to Greatwall had gone up in literal smoke as the Briarwoods had been incinerated by several fireballs during the raid. He looked around at the rest of people in the room while finishing the rest of his wine. Most of them seemed to be on board.
Such a lucrative offer being handed out to what might be a questionable element. The inclusion of the tavern maid certainly surprised him, but if Tibold's instincts told him anything, not a single person here was only what they seemed on the outside. Even the orc-blood. Looking at that rough -and-tumble warrior appearance, Tibold would never have expected a keen legal mind to be working the angles.
He poured himself another glass of wine as the sergeant pounds into their heads about which races to discriminate against during their journey. Tibold found himself wondering what it would be like to live in a world where someone's origin and appearance didn't convey their worth and value among other peoples. He chuckled to himself over the preposterous notion. How would anyone know who to hate?
Again the orc-blood pipes up naming his patron god in his legal argument. Tibold blinks at the suggestion of the orc-blood accepting surrender. I...wouldn't have expected that, he found himself thinking as he looked at the intimidating warrior. Despite the surprise, Tibold found himself nodding at the man's points. Something wasn't right about all this and not the least of it why a fresh to town alchemist and a tavern serving lady were being included in a caravan escort through rumored deadly country.
Tibold kept his peace for the moment and continue to sip the wine. Who knew when he'd get the chance to do it again? A warmth was spreading from his belly, and a fuzzy feeling was coming over him. The two ales and two cups of wine were starting to have an effect. What he could do with 1000 gold started flashing through his mind.
One Month. 1000 gold. I can ride in a wagon for a month. Watch out for orcs, kill all lizardfolk. Not unreasonable. Why kill the lizardfolk though. Who are these people's enemy? Eh. Only 250 gold up front. I need a pack animal to keep my own stuff. I can't carry much. I need a big dog, until I can find a better plant creature. Remis has a dog.
That's a lot of gold. I wonder what these other persons will want to buy. Hmm. Maybe this big guy can talk them into giving us more gold.
Brightberry, standing on the chair, turns to look at each speaker. He gives no nod of head or grunts of affirmation, he simply looks. Meanwhile, Redleaf has not budged a inch from behind Brightberry's chair.
Remis furrowed his brow, “At first thought, I am inclined to agree with, er,” he suddenly realized that none of them had mentioned any names, “the Gorumite. Beyond defending the caravan, it would be foolish to make it a priority to eradicate any and all lizardfolk we see. If they are as cunning as you claim, would it not be conceivable that a small group may attempt to lure us away from the caravan in order to leave it undefended, as he,” Remis nodded to Sigvald “suggested?”
Remis flexed his left and balled it into a tight fist creating a popping sound similar to cracking one’s knuckles except it produced three sharp pops and he repeated to movement three or four times in succession.
“Then again, if they are agents of Pitax, as you say, I can also see how letting yours, and by extension, our enemies gain any sort of information on our whereabouts and goings on could lead to further complications.”
WIth a shrug of his shoulders, Remis snatched up the coin purse and secured it in his pack. He had had worse jobs before. And nothing that paid like this.
“I, Remismun Mandruleanu, being of sound mind and body accept this position.”
Tibold notices the plant person looking around and briefly makes eye contact.
Do each vine leshy have the same chemical make up? Do their bodies all have a common plant origin, or would they all just be similar to the plant of which their bodies are made? Is the plant structure unique? What would would happen if I used a piece in one of my formulae? Could their leaves be dried and smoked?
Tibold swirled the wine in his goblet without thinking and continued to ponder as Brightberry's form blurred slightly in his vision. His eyes widened slightly as he tried harder to focus, his staring becoming increasingly obvious.
I assume their blood is sap...could I make alchemical glue from it? What if it's an edible like maple or heartnut? We're going to be traveling a long distance. Maybe I can convince this creature to let me snip off a leaf or two. Or maybe even sell me that small one at its back. It's probably a child or a different strain perhaps? Surely, it could just grow another. I could even offer to help it with different fertilizers see what increases it to seed more...
Tibold's imagination begins to spiral into visions of possible alchemical experiments, each more fantastic and less probable than the one before it.
“I, Remismun Mandruleanu, being of sound mind and body accept this position.”
Tibold's attention snapped back to the real purpose of their circumstances.
He stood just a tad too quickly and felt a slight head rush. "Uh, yeah. Tibold Crenshaw, Alchemist. Acceptance pending any answers to our fierce friend's concerns." Tibold eyed the money pouch set aside for him. He sighed and hefted it quickly stowing it inside his own belongings. "Alright, not really pending. But I'd still like to hear the answers."
His words have just the slightest hint of the alcohol's effect, but only if one is listening carefully and realizes it's not just his dialect.
Elfriede's thoughts take over as the sergeant and the half-orc discuss tactics and expectations. Before long, she's tuned the conversation out almost entirely, just making mental notes for the important-sounding bits and ignoring the sergeant's outburst about killing every lizardfolk completely. She spends most of her time keeping Jaki away from the bag of coins in her lap and glowering at the others. We're wasting time. I have shopping to do. A horse or a mule? Save some coin, just in case I don't make it back for the big money?
The others naming themselves to officially accept the job jars her out of her thoughts. "Elfriede Vass. From..." Her face shifts to a look of disgust or loathing for a moment before she composes herself. "...Iswixel. And Jaki. I said we're in, so we're in." She digs through the holy symbols around her neck again and comes up with a wooden butterfly, which she stares at for a few moments before turning it over and over in her hands.
Brightberry watched as the bird, Jaki was it (?), dragged the bag over to Elfride. Then as Remismun takes another coin purse. It is only then that it dawns on him that each bag holds 250 gold, not split up between them.
They certainly wouldn't give them this much just to be rid of them. This is real!
Brightberry extends a tendril of a vine out to reach for a coin sack for himself and pulls it in. Hefting it in two of his limbs, he looks at it for just a moment before passing it to Redleaf behind him, who promptly stowes it away in his, apparently, form fitted backpack.
Oh, a Desnan? Desna is cool! She killed a demon lord and then dared the horned f$#~ers to do something about it, and they didn haha! 10 out of 10! Nearly converted once, but the priestess got shitfaced drunk before I did and was babbling too much about dancing under the stars naked, I dont actually look that good.
My Lord Gorrums deplorable lack of Demon Lord kills is part of the reason why I branched out religiously He thinks as he sees the Butterfly symbol.
Saorise arches an eyebrow at the Seargent’s virulent hate for lizardfolk, turning to look at Sigvals at the commentary on orc tactics.
‘Well that’s definitely personal.’
The comment about the lizardfolk being allied with an ‘enemy’ also seemed…off. It honestly felt like the seargeant had a personal axe to grind aside form the mission.
As the others begin accepting the offer and giving their names, she pays closer attention to those around the table. ” Saoirse Oparaeal.” she says in a lilting musical accent. ”It’ll be a pleasure to be workin’ with you lot.” she says looking to her new quest companions.
She turns to look at the dour seargeant, considering for a moment but in the end, unable to resist. ”If I’m gonna be killin’ anyone, it’ll be because they need killin’”
Sergeant Krayquer seems much less personable and caring than Captain Gilmore. He laughs:
"Well, do the mission how you like. The Abadar church might be happy to avoid paying out 6000gp to you lot in the end. If you think is a fancy conversation between equals, you seem to have got it all wrong. If you are in, head to the tavern and meet Emearald and her merchant friends.
The Sergeant leaves, and he was right about at least one thing, this was not really a dialogue.
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. If I can, I may ride with Emerald a bit to keep her out of trouble."
He makes a series of quick hand gestures to your group. Then bows with a sweep of his arm.
"Um, this is a very long mission we are going on. Very dangerous it sounds like. I have magic than can heal if...when a person gets injured, but my magic is better at other things. Like having the vines of the forest rise up and squeeze any monsters before they can hurt a person." As he says this last bit, it looks like his face creaks into a smile just before a bark of laughter escapes. "Ahem. It would be smart for us to pitch in to buy a magic wand that is used for healing persons. It could be used for everyone and leave me to do more helpful things with my magic." He jabs a thumb toward Redleaf, So named because of the one red leaf among a bushel of green leaves. Is it coincidence that it is also placed where the heart of a humanoid creature would be? Now that your attention is drawn to Redleaf, you notice that he is actually very different from Brightberry. While Brightberry looks to be comprised primarily of grapevines, twisting together to form his body, Redleaf's body looks softer, pulpy, covered in a mix of leaves and pinecone pieces for clothing. "Redleaf here is learning to use magic wands too. Pretty soon, he'll be steady as a rock at using it to keep you going!" At this, Redleaf punches his spear into the air emphatically.
He doesn't like something. Poor person digestion not working correctly?
Addressing Malin, "Is there a temple here that could sell a wand of healing to us? And how about a mount smaller than a horse. Could you buy a riding dog for me? His size?" He asks, pointing to Remis' companion.
Brightberry leans in closely to Saoirse and gives a stage whisper of, "Who is that fancy elf person? Is he one of us?"
As introductions are made, Saorise smirks as she reads malin's expression and body language.
'I canna blame him honestly' she thinks looking over their motley group.
Taking in the elven newcomer, she rolls her eyes. Nobility acting like nobility. No surprise there. Judging by Emerald's reaction though, at least one in the merchant party enjoyed his presence. Pity that.
"Nae, I think he's one 'o them, or at least pretty familiar with Emerald...if ye catch me meaning." she responds to Brightberry with a smirk.
In the tavern:
Well, you get relative rookies if you dont offer proper contracts.
Riding into combat is an issue for me, let me show you why.
He Bloodrages, Claws extending, fangs growing and eyes changing to pitchblack. He exits his rage and quickly becomes just a normal dangerous looking merc.
I am a bloodrager, I do this on a horse that isnt fully used to me, it freaks the f&&# out and throws me off. Its infantry for me, I am pretty quick on foot though. There is a reason the Orchestra doesnt have much cavalry.
He pauses
Oh, dont freak out if I do that, I cant do math in that form but I can tell friend from foe. I also hit really really hard.
Thinking on the seargents comments.
More and more suspicious
Sigvald notes
Neither he nor his captain acts Abadarian at all.
He does write a letter in Code to the mercenary organization he is part off (currently stationed at Drezen, which they apparently recaptured) informing them off some irregularities. Signing it with his Orchestra-internal codename "Pancake".
They would of course not act on it, but that behaviour can be used by his people to feign outrage, and get bribed to no longer be outraged, and he, if he were alive at that point, would even receive a cut of that bribe money. Maybe.
"Ahem. It would be smart for us to pitch in to buy a magic wand that is used for healing persons. It could be used for everyone and leave me to do more helpful things with my magic."
“If we are going to work as a team, it might do well for us to start now rather than in the wilds.” Remis mused. “I already have a decent purse, roughly fifty gold, that I can use for minor things. I would not be opposed to contributing my full advance toward a wand.” The half-elf let out a chuckle, “Though I admit that I would prefer to divide any cost more evenly if possible.”
When Brightberry mentioned a smaller mount, roughly Ava’s size, Remis glanced down to notice the canine sniffing around the second leshy. “Ava…don’t even think about it,” he said while patting his hand on his thigh. “Maybe something a little bigger than Ava though. Maybe a pony?”
“As for myself, I already have Wynston. Though, I would need to purchase a different saddle. The one I have is just for carrying things. Maybe I can stow some of my belongings in one of the wagons? Other than that, I believe I am all set to travel.”
Remis watched the newcomer curiously before thinking out loud. “Good ser, did the Captain send you along to watch over us?” He gestured to the symbol, “I would imagine he would want a member of House Lebeda to come along as well.” Remis’ tone is that of pure curiosity.
Elfriede holds her bag of gold protectively, staring at the others as they talk about purchases for the trip. They share too much. I'll be polite, but not everyone needs to know everything about everyone.
Listening to the noble-sounding fop make his demands, Elfriede stares, this time confused, especially when Remis mentions he's actually a noble. "I'm sure the Captain would want a member of some House or other along. The questions is why would he would want to come. He can't be gaining from the pay we're getting."
"I can give some of my coin for a wand." Elfriede looks reluctant, but counts out her share of the coins for it. "The rest of my money is for me, though. Have to buy a horse or something."
"Ahem. It would be smart for us to pitch in to buy a magic wand that is used for healing persons. It could be used for everyone and leave me to do more helpful things with my magic."
"Hmmm. I can see the logic here, but the value lands squarely in the hands of whomever holds the wand once our expedition completes. And what if it's never needed? Someone walks away with a portion of everyone's payment free and clear," Tibold says wryly. "I'll agree to pitch in, only if everyone agrees that once this is all over and we go our separate ways, we're selling what's left of the wand and recovering what we can of our expenses."
When Brightberry mentioned a smaller mount, roughly Ava’s size, Remis glanced down to notice the canine sniffing around the second leshy. “Ava…don’t even think about it,” he said while patting his hand on his thigh.
Wouldn't that actually be a good thing for the plant creature? Tibold taps a finger on his upper lip watching the exchange.
Tibold points at the short elf. "If you're joining this crew, be aware you are required to contribute to the Wands for Everyone's Benefit and Good Health Fund. 100 gold. See the leshy for details"
.100 gold. See the leshy for details
Brightberry points a philange toward the ceiling. "125, actually.". He then looks to a couple of the others to confirm his math. "If Malin can tell us where to get one."
Brightberry discusses buying a healing wand, and Malin explains that they are not for purchase at the outpost. The elf overhears Brightberry with his keen ears and speaks to her with a wink.
The divine bard sees Malin as guileless, but notices Remis seems to highly doubt the elves claim to royal blood.