Rest and healing for Dobin...and if we have the cash...new armor and weapons!!
Dobin, as far as I can remember, you have no coin. What is the plan? ;)
Ralina’s tale draws a mixed crowd of curious listeners in the lively common room of *The Stretching Goat*. Her warning about the lizardfolk stirs murmurs among the patrons. As she finishes her ale, a wiry man with a sun-weathered face leans over from a nearby table.
“Lizardmen, you say? That’s not the worst of it, miss. Word is those caves yonder—what they call the Caves of Chaos—have big dog-men living up in the higher reaches. Mean bastards, twice the size of any hound, and clever enough to set traps. You lot should think twice afore headin’ that way.”
At another table, a merchant with a frayed hat adds his own contribution. “Aye, and across the marshes—mark my words—a young elf once wandered off and never came back. None dared follow; said it wasn’t worth crossing paths with whatever took him.”
Meanwhile, in the corner, a drunken traveler slurs, “The mad hermit... up in the northlands. Beware ‘im, I say. Crazy old coot’s got... got magics! Some swear he’s cursed by the gods themselves!”
As the night deepens and the chatter in the tavern fades, Ralina gathers her things and steps into the cool night air. The quiet streets of the Keep are a stark contrast to the noisy warmth of the tavern. Her steps carry her to The Traveler’s Inn, where she pays for a spot in the common room.
Inside, the room is dimly lit and filled with the quiet sounds of sleeping travelers. Ralina claims a corner bunk, her pack tucked securely beneath her head. Despite the weariness of her journey, her thoughts linger on the tales she overheard, their ominous tones stirring unease as she drifts off to sleep.
The following morning, when Dobin mentions anything they might have to sell, Ralina searches through what they recovered from Kallum and Al'lan. It wasn't much. Sorting through the two adventurer's few possessions was a bitter reminder of their defeat and how most who enter such a line of work are usually poor and desperate. She sighs, and waves a hand over the remaining goods.
A few coins which she divides up between herself, Drusilla, and Dobin. She does the same with their spare trail rations. She replaces her empty oil flask with the one left among Kellum's things and holds onto the rogue's thieving tools. She wasn't sure how best to use them herself, but who knew when they might come in handy.
As for the rest, it didn't amount to much. A quartet of blood-stained javelins, Al'lan's club and shield (I think someone may have grabbed the shield already), backpack and waterskin. Kallum's gear amounted to his backpack, gambeson, lantern, a silver dagger, another small pouch filled with sling stones, a small hammer, and a length of rope.
"We should see if we can get Dobin better gear. but also look for some clues or a guide. Maybe both?" Drusilla says as she smiles.
"Any of this stuff seem good to you Dobin?"
Dobin looks over their "loot" and pulls out the gambeson.
"Well I have my club and shield, but no actual armour. Perhaps we can get this altered to fit me, or if it is not too expensive, purchase a suit of leather armour. The javelins I could also use."
Ralina listens to the man describe the creatures inhabiting the caves outside the Keep. If they were as clever as the stranger describes, perhaps they could be the raiders striking at the caravans. But no, Dobin saw his captors and he didn't describe them as hound-like in any way. Still, it was becoming clear there was more than just one threat roaming the region. And she can't help but consider the threats that Petra had placed before her. The lizardmen, the footprints of the clearly non-human creature near the second caravan ambush, and now these dog-creatures.
The Three Immortals ascended saving the land from the menace of the beast creatures and their allies. Was there a reason they'd been confounded at every turn when trying to find the bandits? Was Petra guiding her toward a different, more important enemy? She turns back to her drinking companion.
"Do you know where these caves..ehh...what did you call them, the Caves of Chaos...where might they be located." She says pulling out her well worn map of the area and asking him to point out the location if he knows.
After Dobin and Drusilla have had a chance to sort through what they want, Ralina takes it to one of the merchant stalls and barters for the best price she can get for the hodgepodge of stuff. Sighing at the paltry amount of coins she finally receives in exchange, she returns to the others to divide things up.
"Even including the dagger, I couldn't get much coin for the lot." She says counting out the various coins. "I think there is enough there to get Dobin a set of leathers, but not much more for hiring."
"I did hear some interesting rumors about a set of caves nearby. Apparently they are known as the Caves of Chaos by the locals." She adds. "There were stories about wild hound-men, but it could just be our bandits. I'd say either way it is worth checking out."
The wiry man squinted at the map Ralina laid out, his calloused finger tracing the terrain with practiced familiarity. "Aye, the Caves of Chaos," he muttered. "They're nestled in a ravine, about two days' travel east of here. The land turns rough and wild as you near 'em - steep walls with caves riddled through like hollows in an old tree. It's no place for the faint of heart. Goblins, gnolls, and worse infest the area, or so I've heard. Never been there meself."
Taking a stick of charcoal from his pocket, he made a mark on the map with a sharp tap. "That’s where I reckon they are. Folk call it cursed, y’see. Creatures keep to their dens mostly during the day, but when night falls? That’s when the real trouble stirs. You won’t see the stars for the shadows."
He leaned back, his chair creaking under his weight, and folded his arms. His wary glance at the map made it clear he wouldn’t be heading there himself anytime soon.
Regnar, seated nearby and nursing a tankard of ale, grunted as the conversation turned to the Caves. "Aye, about those Caves..." He leaned forward, lowering his voice with a conspiratorial edge. "Heard a few things myself. Nothin’ concrete, but enough to steer most folk clear. They say there’s gold to be found - treasures hidden in the deepest dark. But for every tale of riches, there’s two of folks who went in and never came out."
He took a long swig from his tankard before setting it down with a thud. "And there’s talk of a powerful magic-user. Some reckon it’s him stirrin’ up the creatures, rallyin’ 'em together. Could be nonsense, or it could be why none of the brave fools who go there ever make it back."
Regnar’s lips curled into a wry grin. "Still, I can’t sit around the Keep forever. Gold won’t find itself, and those goblins and their ilk? The world’s better off without 'em. Might be worth takin’ a trip to see for meself. Only thing is, we’d need extra hands if we’re plannin’ on headin’ there. No use marchin’ into a hornet’s nest without a big enough swarm of our own."
He raised an eyebrow as if daring anyone to disagree before draining the last of his ale.
Ralina listens to Regnar and sips at her own ale. Glancing back at their current and very limited cash reserves, she nods at the dwarf. "I agree. A few more sword arms would be welcome if the monsters are as numerous as rumored." She contemplates the set of small files, picks, and plyers kept from Kallum's goods. "The man I talked to warned of traps, so someone with a steady hand and good eye for such mechanisms would also be welcome."
"We've not much to offer, so it'll most likely be even shares of whatever spoils we find." Her eyes glance about the tavern room filled with the various wanderers, down-on-thier-luck adventurers, and other desperate souls much like themselves looking to earn a name and a few coin. It was a motley lot to be sure, but hopefully there would be a few willing or needy enough to venture into danger on little more than honor and a hope of wealth.
"I'll start asking about." She says. She pulls her holy symbol of Petra from beneath her shirt so that the immortal's shield is easy to spot. "I feel Petra's hand guiding us toward this challenge, perhaps she'll also guide some good souls to join us." She adds with a wink to her companions.
Ralina’s eyes scanned the room, noting the motley collection of patrons seated around the tavern. Most were too deep in their cups or their own troubles to notice much, but one figure stood out amidst the din.
A large, broad-shouldered man with black hair and a thick beard sat near the far end of the room, his posture upright and purposeful. His chain mail caught the firelight, and a sword hung at his side, resting against the chair with the ease of a weapon well-used. His dark eyes moved over the room with a steady, assessing gaze, lingering briefly on their group before returning to his drink.
Before she could approach, the barkeep, Bumbo, leaned in close and lowered his voice. “That one there,” he said, nodding toward the man. “Calls himself Amhal. Came in a few days back, lookin’ for work. Quiet sort, but I’d wager he’s no stranger to trouble. If it’s muscle yer after, he might be worth a word.”
Dobin tries on the leather armour, and with a few minor adjustments, it's fit is near perfect.
"Thank you for this. I will repay it once we begin to recover and can cash in on some bounty or another."
Later, in the taproom, Dobin looks over the warrior at the end of the room.
"He looks like a strong arm...another warrior would not be so bad!"
Ralina nods her thanks to the barkeep leaving a couple of silver coins on the bar.
"Aye, another sword arm is always welcome." She says to Dobin.
Tucking the usual wayward strand of hair behind her ear, she brushes at her coat and with a quiet prayer walks over to greet the big fellow.
"A good day to you sir." She says tilting her head to the warrior with a friendly smile. "I apologize for interrupting your drink, but the man at the bar implied you might be looking to offer your sword for hire." Her brown eyes take in the worn, but well kept weapon leaning against the chair. "If this is true, then might I buy you another drink to discuss what my companions and I might offer?"
The man’s eye’s lighten at Ralina’s approach, head instantly seeming alert and interested.
”Aye, Bumbo speaks the truth. Amhal Pitt at your service.”
Patting his scabbarded sword, he makes a wry smile.
”Times have been tough for us Traladarans since Thyatian lackeys and Karameikan overlords have seen fit to despoil our fair lands. This…and my suit of mail….are all I have left of my people’s heirlooms…once the moneylenders were done halving and quartering it…”
Amhal holds Ralina’s gaze directly, his voice having risen slightly as if in challenge to any that might hold imperial sympathies.
”What manner of venture are you embarking on?”
'Hello and well met" Drusilla says as she seems to look about the room before looking back at Amhal her almond shaped eyes gaze on his features and nods.
" I see you seem well-equipped" The emerald eyed elf says slipping a stray lock of hair over one of her long shapely ears.
Amhal’s eyes widen slightly upon noticing the elfin ears, but he seems unconcerned. A small smile again creases upward.
”Well, looks can be deceiving, miss. Truth be told, I still want for a dagger, and an axe. I have a serviceable shortbow, and a quiverful of arrows, but what I truly miss currently is a…tinder box. I have torches, but…no means to light them.” he shrugs, hands out.
Ralina nods in sympathy as Amhal shares a bit of his story. It was one all too familiar to the young acolyte. The Duke may have set forth decrees stating that all would be equal, but such things were still far from reality in many places. There was no place where this was more true than among the wealthy merchants and the nobility. She'd bunked with two other acolytes at the Temple whose families had been similarly treated by Karameikan moneylenders. Debt easily offered, nearly impossible to escape.
"Ralina Biggins." She says nodding her head in greeting. "The Karameikan's have taken much from our land, but the Immortal Three still watch over us. Queen Petra's hand has surely brought us together." With a smile for the warrior and fellow Traladaran, she sits down after ordering another round of ale. "For our goal is to drive out the beastmen and bandits that currently hold this land under a siege of fear and death." She leans in a little, not wishing to speak too loudly for fear of other listening ears. She hadn't forgotten the possibility of a spy within the walls. "We plan to venture to the Caves of Chaos. A den of beastmen, evil, danger...and treasure." Her eyes sparkle in the dim light of the tavern. "An equal share of whatever we recover will be yours, but I will be honest, it will be hard earned. Already blood has been spilled and companions have crossed into the halls of the dead."
"Hopefully enough treasure to get a nice fishing boat and fish" Drusilla says as she smiles.
" Throwing out nets, haul them in, maybe some crab traps or even simple rod and reel" Drusilla drifts off into her own little world and giggles.
"Or waiting for the lines to tug, bathing in the sun letting the wind caress you. So exhilarating! I miss those days. Hince why I came to adventure is to get back that little paradise" She says as she sits back looking at the others with a wide almost melancholy look.
'Oh Apologies I am Drusilla Orizorwyn"
"Welcome. I am Dobin Cur, mercenary warrior...or I was. We have not been having the greatest of luck so far, but here to new starts and, hopefully, better luck!"
The once proud fighter cannot help but look somewhat beaten and knocked around.
Amhal seems to take the three in as a group, clearly in consideration and estimation. He looks around the room, as if approximating the alternatives.
The smile returns.
”Ralina, Drusilla, Dobin - I do believe I will join you. Miss Ralina, I’m sorry to disappoint, I generally keep my spiritual thoughts to myself, but I’m none too pleased with the Immortal Three given our current…situation. Perhaps in time, they can redeem themselves.” he finishes with a wink.
”Drusilla, I too wish for a simpler life - for I would rather be a warrior in a garden than a gardener in a war. To watch a net sail through sunlight and plash in rills on water in times of peace would be….nice.”
”And Dobin, you have the look of a man wearied by what you have seen. In truth, you likely have more experience than I. Though we could not be more different - your head holds not a hair, while my mane and beard wax nigh unmanageable - I am now your shieldman and phalanx-sworn. I shall never waver while you yet breathe.”
"I was raised as a daughter of a fisherman. As for peaceful, well only moments bring peace as the world is rife with discord and danger. It is us who define How we see those moments." Drusilla says then giggles.
"Though I am glad you have decided to join us" She says as she drinks some more drink.
Ralina pauses thoughtfully to consider Amhal's words regarding her gods. It was an argument she'd heard many times since stepping into Petra's service. An argument she'd wrestled with herself. And yet she still choose to give your life and effort in support of the Church of Traladara and Petra herself. Her head tilts in understanding at the warrior's words.
"A common enough belief. Even understandable given what our people have suffered over the years. And one used by many to turn instead to the easier faith and false peace offered by the Karameikans." She says. "Still, it is often easier to blame the gods for our own mortal failings. Was it the Three who turned from us or we who turned away?" Her gaze scans the room filled with merchants, travelers, adventurers, and others. "Despite the known threat of beastmen and bandits encroaching from nearly every direction, how many here are willing to lift a sword and stand firm against the tide?" Her hands take in their small group. "Us few. The others hunker behind the walls praying to the gods and the Karameikan Duke to do the hard work of securing their land for them. Even the Castellan would rather hire the likes of us rather than risk his own men or his own hide rooting out the evil. The Three made incredible sacrifices to save our home and lands, why should they not ask us to at least take on a little risk and hardship to do the same?"
She gives the warrior a smile and offers a shrug of her shoulders. "Still, who can truly know the minds and ways of the gods. You could be right. No need to apologize, I will not hold your doubt against you. My hammer will be ready to guard your flank against the enemy no matter. Yet, I will still place my faith in Petra and hope that one day I will earn her faith and blessing as well."
" I have faith in you Ralina. Petra will answer your prayers." Drusilla smiles as she places her hands on the clerics and squeezes it.
" As for the Gods, Elves have some, but I never was a strong believer in any. I mostly just fished and flirted. Now I see what such beimgs can offer us." She says as she leans in and then giggles.
" Though respites in these walls are nice, I miss a nice dip in the stream for a bit of freshing up or a nice natural spring" she says solemnly.
Ralina returns to the bar waving Bumbo over. Leaning in a bit closer to the man who helped point out Amhal earlier, she quietly asks if he knows of anyone handy with handling locks and traps.
"It would be for nothing illegal within the walls of the Keep or surrounding homes." She adds quickly to assure the barman. "It's just we expect the monsters we might face to be clever trap setters and having such a person along might save a life or two. I know most folk with such skills don't necessarily like to advertise their talent. But if you know of one willing to put their effort into a good cause for a share of whatever we recover in treasure, I'd be much obliged."
Bumbo wipes his hands on his already grimy apron, smearing the sweat and grime into the fabric even further. He leans on the bar, giving Ralina a half-smile beneath his patchy beard.
"Well, miss, I reckon I might know someone who fits the bill," he says, his voice a mix of pride and practicality. "But y’know, word travels fast in a place like this, and folks like that tend to value their... discretion. Ain’t easy persuadin’ ‘em to step outta the shadows, if you catch my drift."
He pauses, glancing toward the door as if ensuring no one else is listening, then lowers his voice. "Now, I ain’t one to leave good folk hangin’, not when you’ve got a cause worth helpin’ out. But I did already point you to Amhal, and I’m just sayin’... effort like this, it’s worth somethin’. Maybe an extra drink to grease the wheels? Or a couple more silvers for me troubles?" He shrugs, the motion casual, as if to say, No pressure.
"Just tryin’ to help where I can, seein’ as how I’m such a good-hearted soul," he adds, puffing his chest slightly, though his stained shirt undermines any attempts at self-importance.
Ralina breaks into a smile and nods at Bumbo. A few moments later a trio of silver coins stamped with the Duke's sour mug are sitting on the bar.
"I wouldn't ever want to be seen as not appreciative of hard working folk such as yourself my friend." She says with a quiet chuckle. "I'll be sure to add you in my prayers to Petra as one who works in her constant cause. And if we are successful in our endeavor, I'm sure you'll end up benefiting by all the food and drink that will flow to celebrate such good fortune upon our return." She adds with a quick wink.
"We'll likely be leaving first thing in the morning." She says thinking of the long journey to the caves. "If your...ehh...friend is interested, have them meet us outside the main gate soon as the gates open for the day. We're offering a full share of the spoils. But best they bring their own gear. If we've got to pay for gear, it'll have to come outta their share." She adds with a sorry shrug. Her coin was running dry, it was the best she could offer for now. With Petra's blessing and a little luck, she hoped that sorry financial state would soon turn around.
Bumbo eyes the silver coins on the bar, his grin widening as he sweeps them up and pockets them with a practiced motion. "Now that’s the kind o’ appreciation a man can respect," he says, nodding in approval. "Much obliged, miss. Petra’s blessin’ or no, a bit o’ coin always keeps the spirits up, eh?"
He taps a finger to his nose, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Funny thing... I do have a cousin. Black sheep of the family, y’know? Always had a knack for squeezin’ into tight spots and gettin’ out of ‘em just as quick. Name’s Finnin. Finnin Wicks. Bit too clever for his own good, if you ask me, but he’s got a steady hand for tricky work."
Bumbo straightens up and nods toward the darker corner of the common room. "He’s been layin’ low ‘round here lately, keepin’ outta trouble - or tryin’ to, at least. You’ll usually find him sittin’ in the shadows, nursin’ a drink. Don’t go rushin’ over there all loud-like, though. Finnin’s the cautious type, needs a bit o’ finesse if you wanna win him over."
He leans back and gives her a wink. "Tell him ol’ Bumbo sent ye, and maybe, just maybe, he’ll see what he can do for ye. No promises, though. Finnin’s as unpredictable as the wind on a stormy night."
Ralina slips her eyes toward the shadow filled corner to catch a quick look at the barkeeps cousin. Her gaze doesn't linger. Just long enough to be sure of which table and chair he occupies. Then her eyes move on as if still looking over the crowd for a familiar face. Soon enough she's back to watching the tavern keeper pour another mug full of ale from barrel behind the bar.
She gives the man another warm smile. "Every family has their black sheep." She says with a laugh knowing her folks would certainly consider their wayward and adventurous daughter to be just that. She scratches a quick note on the back of one of her temple flyers and folds it around another silver coin. Bumbo says you've a talent for tricks and traps. I've an opportunity if you're interested. Might be a bit dangerous, but rewarding. Outside the smithy at the next bell if your interested. R.
"You've a good heart to look out for him. Too many kin just turn away. If he should decide to come with us, I'll try to see him safe as I would my own kin."
After a few minutes she leaves the barkeep and winds her way slowly toward the shadowy corner stopping occasionally to say hello to an acquaintance from the prior evening. Eventually she ends up in front of a chair near to Finnin.
Pleasant evening to you sir." She says smiling at Bumbo's cousin. Sitting there quietly watching the scene within the tavern her hand slowly reaches down. When she's certain no one is watching she drops the note wrapped coin to the floor. Glancing down she offers another smile to Finnin. "Oh, it seems you dropped something." She says picking up the note wrapped coin and handing it to Finnin before returning to her drink. She spends a few more minutes finishing the mug of tea before nodding a goodbye to Finnin and making her way out of the tavern. The next bell shouldn't be too long, so she finds a quiet corner near the blacksmith and waits to see if Finnin comes to the rendezvous.
Amhal lounges as is his wont. He sees Ralina making nice with the bartender, and the exchanged glances toward a shadowy personage, followed by the small interview and dropped coin/delivery.
Really none of my business…and I don’t want to spoil her rendezvous with my big self looming menacingly nearby. I might just settle my salt a bit further…
The warrior makes further small talk with Regnar, Drusilla and Dobin…
"Its nice to have you onboard Amhal. Another warrior should help even out some of the difficulties we have been encountering. So tell me...where did you learn your craft?"
Finnin’s yellowed eyes flicker toward Ralina as she drops the note-wrapped coin at his feet. A crooked grin stretches across his unshaven face, revealing a mouth dotted with missing and blackened teeth. He reeks of cheap wine and stale sweat, a scent that lingers like an unwelcome guest. The wiry man’s bony fingers scoop up the coin and unfold the note with a casual deftness that suggests years of practice with sleight of hand.
His grin broadens as he reads, a glint of interest flashing across his otherwise tired features. He tucks the coin into a threadbare pouch at his side and crumples the note into his fist before glancing around the room, ensuring no one else is watching. With a faint chuckle, he leans back in his chair, taking a long swig from a cracked clay mug.
When the appointed time arrives, Finnin shows up at the smithy with an uneven gait, one boot nearly worn through at the sole. He sticks to the shadows as much as possible, his beady eyes darting about like a rat sniffing for predators. Once he spots Ralina in her chosen corner, he slides closer, his voice a low rasp.
“Didn’t think ye’d be the type to deal with the likes o’ me, but here I am. Let’s hear about this opportunity, then.” He rubs his hands together, the motion slow and greasy, his gaze lingering on Ralina’s face with equal parts suspicion and curiosity.
"I wanna braid your hair" Drusilla says to Regnar then giggles.
"Though after you take a bath, with soap" She says teasingly
Rengar burst in a hart felted laugh with Drusilla's words almost choking himself with his beer - True! But y' elves don't stink better I say - drinking down the rest his mug with an thoughtful expression he adds with a grin: If y' had any beard I'd be the one to help you soaping y' back.
More as an after thought he mutters as to himself - To bad your kin was so unfavored by the gods. Not even a little baby's beard for show
He's certainly the look of a scoundrel, and one who's barely scraping by. Ralina thinks to herself as Finnin approaches. A moment of sadness drifts through her mind as she recalls Kallum. A quiet, but well kept young man. She didn't know him long, but he seemed a scoundrel of a different caliber. Now all she can really recall is the lizardman's javelin piercing the young rogue's chest, his blood seeping into the mud.
As Finnin speaks she clears away her dark thoughts and offers a smile.
"Aye, well now. We've a band that is setting out to clear the Caves of Chaos of the beastmen and bandits that have taken up residence and now harass trade and travelers along the road. And to liberate whatever treasure and goods they've managed to hoard these past months." She adds that last with noticeable importance. "We've word that those evil creatures more often favor traps to fighting. Thus a man with the talent and skill to deal with such mechanisms would earn himself an equal share of what we recover if he's willing to take a little risk."
"You'll need to bring your own gear, but you receive a full share as I said." She tips her head toward the gate. "If you wish to join us, We'll be setting out first thing in the morning."
She waits for the man to make his choice, all the while keeping a close eye on his manner and her hand resting on the few coins left in her purse.
Finnin’s lips curl into a grin that reveals his jagged, yellowed teeth, and he rubs his chin thoughtfully as Ralina speaks. For a moment, his eyes flick to the gate before snapping back to her, his expression neutral once more. "Treasure, eh? Can’t say I’m one to pass on such an opportunity. Beastmen, traps, and all," he says with a low chuckle, his voice tinged with something almost too eager.
He shifts his weight, his fingers tapping idly against the hilt of a rusted dagger at his side. "I’ll be there, miss. Bright and early. Don’t worry ‘bout me gear - I’ve got all I need." His gaze darts briefly over his shoulder toward the tavern before he leans in slightly, lowering his voice. "Reckon it’s about time I stretched my legs anyway. Been too long since I had a proper job."
There’s a flicker of something in his eyes - a mix of restlessness and unease - but it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared. Finnin straightens up, his grin back in place, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
"Right then, I’ll see ye at the gate in the morrow," he says, tipping an imaginary hat before turning and slinking back into the shadows, his uneven gait carrying him toward the tavern once more.
Ralina might notice the faintest trace of haste in his departure, almost as if he were glad for the excuse to leave. If the thought crosses her mind, though, it’s fleeting - Finnin is already gone, swallowed by the dim light of the keep.
The man's restlessness doesn't escape her eyes, nor the way he scurries back into the shadows like a rat caught in a lantern beam once the deal is made. Her eyes gaze into the evening sky as she prays for Petra's watchful eye when dealing with the young Finnin. Bumbo had mentioned he was trying to lay low. From what or who? She wonders. She turns to try to follow the man, but as she takes in the evening crowd, he's disappeared without a trace. With a sigh and a head shake, she would put her faith in Petra.
Heading back to the common room of the inn, she meets up with the others and tells them of the additional recruit. Her nose crinkles as she runs a hand through her hair. "He's a scoundrel no doubt. And not a stout adherent of personal hygiene. But Bumbo the Barkeep called him a cousin and vouched for his talent with traps and such. He seemed a bit cagey and desperate for a bit there, so be sure to watch your purses and our backtrail when were on the road." She adds rubbing her chin thoughtfully.
Amhal smiles at Dobin’s question.
”To be honest, a stint in the village militia is all I’ve had. Now, sadly, my brethren and the village are ash and dust. To make way for an improved imperial roadway. So: I can swing a sword, shoot like it’s hunting and wear my mail. As for “warcraft”, I have very little.”
His smile persists.
”And you?
The first shadow creeps across Amhal’s face since the group met. He scrunches up his nose at the mention of the “new hire”.
”Well, I guess I’m not one to talk, given to you I’m also an unknown quantity. But a desperate man on the run makes a poor companion both ways - danger from him and his pursuers. That Bumbo seems helpful, but I don’t trust him in the least, so a “family member” feels even more like a set up.”
Amhal leans back.
”Still, ‘quick to judge and quick to be wrong’ as my aunt Mabeline used to say. Course she was hanged for stealing…seems we can’t all have honest families…”
A...say... humored comment from a friend must not be taken lightly says Regnar with a nod to Drusilla turning to his friends he adds: When Ralina comes I'm gonna take a bath. Never know how long Drusilla will put up with me stinkin finishing with a smile to Drusilla
"I await the fresh sent of up turned soil," She giggles as she then smells herself.
'I too should bathe though I have hot a hotspring nor scented herbs."
Dobin seems to stand a little taller as he replies.
"I fought with the 4th division Board Guards up Halv way. I was with them for 4 years before I took my leave to become an independent...and have been wondering why ever since!"
He gives a short grunt, that could either be a laugh or simply a gesture of the fighter's current predicament.
”Well, I guess I’m not one to talk, given to you I’m also an unknown quantity. But a desperate man on the run makes a poor companion both ways - danger from him and his pursuers. That Bumbo seems helpful, but I don’t trust him in the least, so a “family member” feels even more like a set up.”
Ralina nods at the warrior's words. "Aye. The thought's crossed my mind." She says remembering Finnin's nervousness and hurry to leave. "We've evidence there might be a spy within the Keep working for the bandit's. For a bit, I thought he could certainly fit the bill." Her shoulders shrug as she taps the table with her knuckle. "But then why even agree to join us on a journey outside the walls? His value would be inside, not outside the Keep." She shakes her head. "Nah, I've a hunch he's troubled someone he shouldn't have and now he's looking for a quick getaway or hideout. I'm just hoping his trouble doesn't become our own." She add, her mind still curious as to who the spy might be.
Let me know what you plan to do next, gang.
I usually don't trust a thief be it a spy or not. You better take care of y' coin either way I think.
Regnar stands from his bench Don't need those monsters to scent me 'round a corner. Gonna get me a bath friends. Without herbs but hopefully with some soap. Shall we rally early morning to go to those caves? he says before going to get himself a bath.
After a few days of rest and preparation, the group is ready to take the next step in their journey. At the break of dawn, the Keep stirs to life, and the adventurers gather near the gates. The air is still quiet, save for the distant calls of birds and the murmur of early risers within the walls.
Supplies checked, gear adjusted, and the road ahead is yours to choose. Where to next?
HP
After introducing Finnin to the others and knowing they've got a lot of road to travel, Ralina checks her map and gear one more time, then urges a steady pace along the road toward the suspected location of the Caves of Chaos.
Friends keep an eye open for bandits and lizardmem. These dam lands are more dangerous than abandoned mines I say