Graham remains seated as the commotion begins, and sips from his cup as Alvis does, well, Alvis law-and-order things. It's not until Tessa steps forward and mentions enforcement that he, with an internal sigh, rises from his chair to stand beside her.
I'd consider your next actions very carefully, Graham says.
One of the men has a serious cut which is seeping blood down his face. It does not seem to have wounded his eye, but looks painful nonetheless. He looks quite taken aback both by Quintessa's commanding voice, and the three formidable looking fighters at her side. He looks at the men, looks at Faen, and looks at Quintessa, squinting his right eye, as he makes internal calculations.
"But she..." he starts pointing at the female newcomer. "We are only..." he tries again, but stops himself. Then he takes a deep breath, putting the wicked looking knife he held back into his belt, raising his hands in a calming gesture. "Now, now. We don't want no trouble with the law, do we boys." He takes a step back, assessing. "At least not these good folks."
"This lass has taken something that belongs to me, and I will have it back. Maybe not now, maybe not today, but the nobility won't be around to protect her forever. So, stay with your new friends, thief. But when they've left town, we'll come for you. And that fat lout Irven nor all the hounds of Hell will stop us from taking what's mine. Mark my words, girl, mark them good..." He stares at Faen while speaking this last, and then turns to the two others and ushers them out the door of the Lusty Wench.
It seems the worst has been avoided, for now.
Teela
The door is opened by a half-elven woman of, perhaps middle age. She wears black robes, and her grey hair is tied back from her head in a ponytail. She wears a silver chain with a small hourglass filled with red sand around her neck, and she has long fingers with long nails, also painted black. She holds a book in one hand, and pair of reading glasses in the other. She looks a bit surprised to find a stranger at her door at first, but then smiles, a warm smile.
"Welcome, child. How can I be of service?"
Quintessa watches the men retreat, maintaining her expression until they are gone. Once the door swings shut behind them, she exhales slowly, turning her gaze to Faen.
"I suspect there is more to this story than a simple theft, and I would very much like to hear it. After all, it seems you’ve been swept under the wing of our merry band, for now."
Her tone softens slightly, but you can hear the curiosity in her voice. "Please. Have a seat. Tell us your name. Enlighten us. What exactly have you taken that caused such fervor?"
Without waiting for an answer, she gestures toward the bar. "Irven, another whiskey for our guest."
Quintessa slides her untouched whiskey back toward Velas with a small nod of acknowledgment before turning her attention fully to Faen, awaiting the explanation.
Having forgotten the drink in the surprise, Velas nods in gratitude back at Quintessa, but waits to drink until the newcomer has theirs. Velas stays silent for now and listens closely to the conversation.
Faen stays low in a guard position as the man says his peace and leaves. She then stands smoothly and sheathes her weapons, then dusts off her front, where a dusty foot print remained from the kick that had sent her flying into the Lusty Wench.
Faen nods at Quintessa's suggestion, taking a step towards their table, when the doorman arrives at a run, looking quite chagrined at missing his opportunity to play hero. After a few whispered apologies to Faen, she whispers something in his ear, gives his arm a squeeze and then turns to make her way over to the group, spinning just enough to make her hair fly up in front of the doorman's face. The look on his face is enough to discern how he feels about Faen.
With a roll of her shoulders, Faen takes a seat from a nearby table and drags it over. Sitting, she says, "My name's Faen Cymbril, and I owe you a debt for helping. None of these, " she says, waving her hands at the locals populating nearby table, " would have lifted a finger."
She then sighs, "As for the story...he was after this, " she says, pulling a small leather satchel from her side and placing it on the table. With practiced ease, she opens it to reveal a number of oddly shaped , metal tools. "My father's, and his father's 'tinker tools'. " she says softly, looking at the tools fondly. She's stuck in her reverie for a moment, before raising her eyes to Quintessa and offering a wry smile, "It's for this that I travelled up and down this gods-forsaken border looking for the man who stole this from my family..." she explains, her voice cracking a bit at the mention of family, a single tear making a track through the dust on her cheek.
Rubbing the tear away with a quick motion, Faen gives her head a shake, closed up the satchel and continues, all business, "I found the man, Rikkik, here out back of one of those warehouses. Drunk off his feet. Put his face in the mud, took what was mine and left him. It's too bad some of his friends saw me before I left....I ran here, and you know the rest" she finishes, nodding to the barkeep who places a whisky before her on the table.
She takes it , holds it up in salute to Quintessa and the others at the table and downs it in one go. Twisting her head and lips as the firey drink makes it's way down, she places the glass down on the table gently, rolling it back and forth on it's base, looking expectantly at the others, sure more questions might be asked.
Tinker Tools is a euphemism for Thieves' tools. Not sure which your characters might recognize them as such. Or if a knowledge check ( what one ) would be needed.
Graham knows exactly the "tinker's tools" Faen has displayed. He's seen them many times on both trusted and unsavory characters up and down the Sellen.
He holds his cup steady and stares – not at the newcomer, but at Alvis, to gauge the dwarf's reaction. Gods, don't make a scene on this...
As the untrustworthy looking men retreat, Alvis sit down to listen to the young women's tale after says, "Mayor, may I trouble you to see that a good man goes to look after our horses, those men seem the type to despoil our good and harm our horses? Thank you."
Alvis looks on curiously if a bit warily at the tools for locks and other devices is laid out. At her conclusion to her story he asks, "My father was a tinker; he too was one that took the risk of the attention of the wicked, for him in order to be able to help hamlets and trappers with fixing their locks and traps. May I examine them for a moment? Tools as old as you imply must have been well cared for and the use to which they are put causes a slight difference in wear."
Alvis give a close look over the tools, grunting after a moment. "Yes, the tools show the signs of being well oiled, mostly not abused. Also more use of the tongs and hammers and fewer signs of quick use. And see this pick recently slightly fractured and crudely resharpened. It tells a tale of good care followed by recent hurried careless abuse. Few thieves care for the tools so well, but tinker or locksmith must; the trade is not known for good rewards and these tools are expensive. Its condition supports her tale. Based on that I believe her, and the mayor's treatment of those men shows their poor reputation. May Abadar bless you and yours. I had hoped your father's trade did not suffer with the loss but your tears suggest it did not go so well."
Alvis quietly says, "My father was murdered by bandits year ago as he traveled this very road. The sword scion with him did his best but neither survived. I suspect I know what you lost and share it. Be welcome here Fean, I am Alvis missionary for Abadar in these troubled lands."
Quintessa listens intently as Faen recounts her tale. When the tools are revealed, she leans forward slightly, inspecting them but really having no idea what she was looking at. As Alvis speaks and offers his blessing, she nods in agreement. She places a soft, gentle hand on Alvis's forearm when he mentions his father being murdered by bandits. She leaves it there for a few moments before turning back to Faen.
"Your father's tools are a fine inheritance. Not only for their utility but for what they represent, a legacy of skill and perseverance. That man had no right to take them from you." She folds her hands on the table, her tone measured. "You've proven you’re willing to fight for what's yours, and you’ve shown resourcefulness in reclaiming it. That kind of determination doesn’t go unnoticed, at least not by me."
"However, you’ve also made enemies here in Nivakta's Crossing, and those men will undoubtedly cause trouble for you again if you stay. Perhaps you’d consider traveling with us? We could always use someone with a keen eye and nimble hands, especially heading into the Greenbelt. And, who knows? Perhaps you'll find more to reclaim along the way."
The door is opened by a half-elven woman of, perhaps middle age. She wears black robes, and her grey hair is tied back from her head in a ponytail. She wears a silver chain with a small hourglass filled with red sand around her neck, and she has long fingers with long nails, also painted black. She holds a book in one hand, and pair of reading glasses in the other. She looks a bit surprised to find a stranger at her door at first, but then smiles, a warm smile.
"Welcome, child. How can I be of service?"
Initially unsure whether she would find anyone in the temple, Teela seems shocked as well. "Yes, hello. Terribly sorry to bother you. Fortunately, no boneyard business today." her lips curl into a smile at her own joke, but she does not utter a sound. She gives it a second to see whether the caretaker reacts, then continues. "Apologies - I am looking for a man heading west that very likely passed through here. Since he is supposedly a man of faith, I was wondering whether he stopped by your temple. One Jhod Kavken. I believe they worship the Stag God, unlike..." she points to the caretaker, then to the boneyard, then to the spiral symbol. "Well, you know. Did they stop here, by chance?"
Faen's eyes well up again at Alvis' kind words, and she draws a shaky breath, "Indeed, my father was killed when this was taken from us. I thought I'd kill the man when I found him, but the drunkard was defenseless. If it were a fair fight..." she says softly, pausing, "...but I'm no murderer. My father travelled the underworld before he met my mother, so I gathered that his past may have caught up with him. " she says with a shrug, "But he left that life , excepting what he taught me, and lived the life of a travelling tinker, an honest man."
Wiping another escaped tear, she smiles softly, remembering her father.
She listens to Quintessa's offer, nodding along , "I'm sure if I stay here, my days might be short. The Greenbelt you say? I'm not a complete stranger to the wildlands along the border. If you'll have me, I'd be glad to travel with you."
Alvis ponders Faen's words for a moment then says, "I'm glad that your father left an unjust life for a just one, most that fall to such fail to leave it. His care for his tools and the love you have shows what strength he had, though in my experience with humans, I suspect your mother played no small role in that. About learning to use what your father taught, it's not what bad you can do with them, it's what you choose to do that matters. And I'm glad you restrained from a vendetta killing, though some might find it just, it encourages anarchy leading to more injustice."
Alvis expands on the invitation, "Please do more than travel, come with us and help us rid the land of the scourge of the wicked, using your skills for justice."
Sure, Graham says, why not? The more the merrier. Besides, Tessa can always use more people in her entourage.
Which reminds me, where has Teela gotten off to? I know she said not to wait up, but still...
Quintessa turns to Graham, her lips pressed into a flat line as she weighs her options. Chastise him for the casual and public use of "Tessa" or to lean into his jest. Her eyes narrow ever so slightly as she considers, then she makes her decision.
"An entourage, is it, Graham? Well then." she says, her tone staying cool and measured.
Raising her hands, she claps twice. She maintains her stoic demeanor, her expression betraying not a hint of humor as she continues, "If you'd be so kind as to don your finest silks and fetch me my wine, I find myself growing rather parched after all this exhausting conversation."
She holds his gaze unwaveringly, as though genuinely daring him not to comply. She let's her intensity lingers for a moment longer than necessary, leaving just enough doubt as to whether she's serious.
Her lips curl into a wry grin, and she bursts into laughter, waving her hands at him. "Oh, Graham, you do keep things interesting!"
She waves him off with a graceful flick of her wrist. "Now, if you'd be so good, perhaps you might locate Teela and ensure she hasn’t stumbled into one of her more creative situations. We wouldn’t want her charming the local guards into a misunderstanding."
"Off you go, Graham. Chop-chop, the entourage waits for no one." As he turns to leave, she claps her hands twice more as she calls out after him. "And don’t forget the silks, dear!"
Faen watches the interplay between Quintessa and Graham, then blinks, "So that whole I'm a noble, blah, blah , blah wasn't an act? You are actually nobility?" she asks skeptically.
Quintessa tilts her head and responds to Faen "Oh, it's very much an act. But, it's an act supported by an inconvenient truth. Yes, I am indeed nobility."
She leans forward slightly, lowering her voice conspiratorily "Born to House Orlovsky, no less. One of Brevoy's esteemed great houses. I'm sure you've heard the name. Stuffy dinners, tedious politics, the occasional assassination plot. It's all very glamorous."
"I don't particularly enjoy using the title, but occasionally, it can help grease the wheels in situations like these. Though I must admit, blah, blah, blah is perhaps a better summation of my upbringing than I care to admit." She rolls her eyes and shakes her head, leaning back in her chair and staring off for a few seconds before snapping back to reality and offering Faen a smirk.
She gestures grandly "So, yes, Lady Quintessa Orlovsky, at your service. You may grovel at any time, but please, no kneeling. It’s dreadfully awkward in a place like this."
Irven, the barkeep/mayor, returns to the table just then, a bit breathless, which given his rotund form may not be from extreme exertion. "Your horses are fine, Master Dwarf. They're just as I left them. No worries there." He gives you beaming smile, and a knowing nod, and stands inconveniently close to Alvis, as if waiting for something....
Teela
The woman looks upward, clearly thinking. "I have not heard of this man or seen him pass this way, but I do not take notice of all that travel through the Crossing. Only if they do indeed have 'boneyard business' do I usually get involved, and that is, unfortunately, often enough on the edge of the wild as we are. I will keep my eyes open for this...Kavken -- whom shall I say is asking for him, then?" She looks pointedly at you, perhaps evaluating the veracity of your story in how you respond.
With a blank stare, Teela blinks twice and realises she did not introduce herself properly. "Oh my! Sorry. My name is Teela, but I'm looking for the man on behalf of his brother Jharett. Supposedly, they separated a year ago and have not been in contact since. Jhod took off westward to enlighten the bandits or some such and hasn't been heard from since. But if you don't know, you don't know. Thank you anyway."
Alvis similes at Lady Quintessa's handling of your status, firm but not pushing it in a frontier far from the north. "Don't worry, status is a bit relaxed here but Lady Quintessa is our leader. Still make your opionions known, we all have a stake in a good outcome."
Alvis notices the eager mayor hanging about, fishing out the last silver on him, he says, "Here you go, most of my money is with our quartermaster, she should be back soon." He stops abruptly and then says to the newcomers, "I suppose it's too much to hope you have horses and tack for them? No?" Turning back to the mayor, "Are there a couple of passible mounts for our new companions complete with saddles and tack? We really need to be on our way at speed, reports have the bandits more active lately."
Graham laughs off the exchange as he rises to search for Teela. Oh, yes, your worshipfulness, silks right away. And if I happen to take them from a willing lass in town, I'll just remind you that you weren't all that specific.
Graham can't help but grin as he strides out the door, looking half-heartedly about for Teela and quickly concluding he's not likely to find her, even in a tiny thorp such as this. At least outside I'll hear if there's a scream, he thinks to himself, taking a seat on a disused wine barrel near the door and finishing the rest of his cup. Though, Teela doesn't strike me the screaming type.
He has only been outside a half-minute when the door opens and a woman hurries out, almost missing him aside the door before breaking into a broad smile. Thought you'd run off for th' evening, luv, Sovia says breathlessly. And wit'out so much as a goodbye!
Oh, I wouldn't dream of it, Graham says, returning her smile. Let's speak again when you're done for the night, fair?
Teela
The lady smiles briefly. "Well met, Teela. I am Kara, priestess of the Grey Lady, and keeper of this temple, such as it is. Reuniting brothers is a noble cause. I will certainly keep an eye out for a wayward brother of Erastil, and if he is named Jhod, I will let him know his brother seeks his whereabouts, or send you a message to that effect. Fair?"
She pauses a moment, the curiosity getting the better of her. "What brings you to Nivakta's Crossing, Teela? How did you get involved with these separated brothers?"
Graham only half-heartedly looks for Teela, but despite his best efforts, he can see her just across the dusty road, standing on the front steps of the small temple there, speaking to someone. He doesn't pay her much mind, as has other distractions in front of him.
"I ain't free from here till after the dinner meal service," the barmaid says with a grimace, "But I can likely sneak away for a few minutes once the lunch rush is done, if you have a mind."
Faen laughs at Quintessa's irreverence , "Glad to hear it, not sure I'd be able to stomach a true, blue noble-type. Met a few on the road with my family...they didn't make a good impression! " she declares.
She then hears Alvis ask for horses, and reaches for her own coin, "Good idea, can't be joining you on your trek if I'm walking! "
Irven has no care whether its the last silver in Alvis' purse or not, he swipes it up just the same. "Horses?" he asks dubiously, thinking about it for a bit. "I reckon I could 'range two ridin' horses and gear. 'Xept it's likely t'be on the 'xpensive side given the scarcity, an' all. I ken if you had 20 crowns, I could get you some right away-like."
"That sounds very helpful. Thank you." Teela chuckles. "As for my involvement and being here, that's a bit of a story." She puts a finger to her chin. "I don't know how much time you have, but I can give you a rundown. Essentially, I'm moving west with a small coterie to look into the bandit situation in the Greenbelt. I was told they're a thorn in the side of a few people, so we were tasked to deal with it. On the way, we saw the Kavken farm and asked for shelter for the night. The good people there helped us, we got to talk, and they told us about the missing brother and it's on the list now. Essentially."
There's a pregnant pause in the air as Teela is considering something. "Say... You wouldn't know about any old temples in that area, would you? Just by pure chance."
Noting the high price, limited funds, and his relative lack of ability, Alvis pushes the bargaining off to those better equipped to deal.
Alvis shakes his head and says to Irven, "Sorry, I can't help you about that, you'll need to bargain with Teela or Lady Quintessa Orlovksy, I was just pointing the utility of more horses. But I think we can work out having them ride double, if need be. Up to milady in any case." He turns about and asks, "Does anyone know what Tessa is doing? She's been gone a bit."
Faen frowns a the obvious price gouging being perpetrated by Irven, but shrugs, "I've got enough for my horse..." she says, counting out five coins and placing them in front of the Mayor, "You'll get the rest when I get the horse..."
Kara, the priestess, tilts her head considering. "I know that some time back, a group of evil monks and priests of the goddess of hate, extortion, and spite named Gyronna once lived on the northern shore of the Tuskwater. I bet there are still cultists there, and maybe they are behind the rise in banditry that we have all heard about. Otherwise, I don't know of any temples in the Stolen Lands -- it is a godless place, by civilized standards at least, though even the Grey Lady has domain there from time to time. Sorry I can't help more. If your mission to rid the area of bandits needs help, I stand ready to lend aid as I can. Unfortunately, I am of an age to not go riding into wildlands but if you have need of divine support, you need but ask -- and perhaps make a slight offering to She Who Judges."
Irven rapidly swipes the gold crowns into his apron pocket and sends the doorman off to bring one of the horses back from the nearby stables. "He can get the second, if you have the coins," the mayor says with a greedy grin, looking at the noblewoman, since Alvis seems flat broke.
Once the caretaker starts speaking, Teela quickly rushes to pull out her journal and makes some notes. She smirks quietly. "This Gyronna sounds lovely." she adds once Kara is quiet again. "Thank you. Unfortunately, I don't have any coin on me at the moment, but I can leave a silver piece in the morning after I meet up with my... well, allies." she shrugs and looks around the temple exterior. "Do you have an offering chest or something of the sort?"
”The price seems a bit steep, don’t you think? Ah well, I suppose that’s to be expected out here.” With a shrug, Velas fishes out the correct coinage. ”Payment upon delivery.”
Once the transaction is complete, Velas quickly finds a weaponsmith to pick up a couple of daggers, and maybe a few odds and ends.
The horses are brought up from the stables, including your group, with tack and saddles included. They are not the finest mounts ever seen, but they seem to be healthy and hale, and will bear you to where you will.
Irven waits patiently for his payment, and when received says, "Thankee, much. You fine folks stop back in to the Lusty Wench anytime you have a mind. There will be a hot meal and a cold cider waitin'."
The priestess smiles and points out the alms box inside the door of the temple. "No need to give without services rendered, but do as the feeling takes you. Good luck on your journey, Teela. I will keep a lookout for your lost priest of Erastil."
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"Oh... There you are!" Teela chuckles as her gaze sets on the box. "Well, it's been nice meting you, uh..." she ponders "...Sister, Kara? I apologise, but I'm not good with these titles. Never been one for faith myself, so I had nowhere to learn them. Anyway, hope you have a pleasant rest of the night. And uh," she points to the gravestones. "hope business is slow in here." Teela jokes before turning away and heading for the Lusty Wench.
She stops halfway, pulls out her journal, makes some notes, and continues to the inn as she fiddles her cup. When Teela moves to the entrance, she sees Graham near the barmaid, hooking the proverbial worm. She chuckles and shakes her head as she approaches. "Graham... Ma'am..." she greets the two of them. "I won't keep you, but make sure you can ride a horse tomorrow." Teela jests and pats Graham's shoulder before looking to the barmaid. "And girl, from what I heard..." she leans to the barmaid for a whisper. "You may want to take the day off tomorrow. Unless you can work sitting down all day." She chuckles and gives Graham a subtle wink before heading inside.
Faen looks over the horse, running a practiced hand over withers and shoulder. Taking the bridge gently, she stroked the horse's nose as she looks into it's eyes, "We'll be friends? OK?"
She gives Irven the other half of his money, "There better be, with how much you overcharged for these horses!" she declares with a smile.
Looking up at the mid-day sun, she looks to her new companions, "Were you planning on heading out? she asks, looking about casually for any of the thugs that assailed her earlier.
Faen can see her adversaries lurking around two or three buildings down from the Lusty Wench. They are really aren't making any attempts at subterfuge, just loitering and watching, talking quietly among themselves now that she appears to be leaving.
As Teela comes through the door Alvis says, "Ah, we are back together now, the new hands and the old of a few days. After we settle the bill we can head out, our horses should be rested enough to make good progress. Given the tone of the recent reports it seems every day the bandit grow bolder."
Alvis will leave with the others and prep Parable and his gear. He'll help anyone that has a problem with doing so.
"Velas and Fean, if you would like I have a bit of knowledge of horses and injuries so I could check them over." If they wish he will check any horse presented.
Teela opens the door to see people are wrapping up. She spins on her heel and turns to Graham. "It seems we're moving? You uh... need a minute? Or twenty?"
She looks into the Lusty Wench and back again. "Give me your stuff and I'll go get your horse ready.", Teela grabs whatever gear Graham provides in exchange for her cup and heads for the stables. She also grabs a single silver coin from the funds while she straps gear to the horses. Noting two new faces, she raises an eyebrow. Not glaring, just curious. "Two more stops and we're a legitimate caravan." she notes in jest, attempting to buy some time. "Call me Teela."
After Graham is back with the group, and horses are all packed and saddled, you make ready to depart Nivakta's Crossing. The group of thugs down the street continues to case surly glances at Faen, and her new group, but they aren't quite brave enough to take on a fully armed party in equal numbers, so it's just posturing it appears.
The road splits at the crossroads here, heading south over the bridge toward Noman Heights or west into an area called the Rostland Hinterlands. The Hinterlands is a mostly empty expanse of grassland wilderness just outside the border of Brevoy. The area is mostly grassland wilderness, and the Rostland Road, which you have been following from Restov, peters out into little more than a glorified trail as it winds westward.
Quintessa adjusts her riding gloves and takes one last glance around Nivakta's Crossing as everyone falls into formation. "Lovely little hamlet." she remarks dryly, the sarcasm in her voice clear.
Turning back to the road, she announes "West it is, then. To Oleg’s and whatever awaits us there. Let’s hope it’s a bandit or two who’d rather surrender than test our steel."
Alvis sadddles up, helping any that ask.
Alvis agrees with Quintessa, "Yes, it's a depressing impoverished place, when it should be a lively trade center. Since the Vanishing, trade has fallen with bandits and monsters overrunning the routes. It encourages greed and crime. The situation in Brevoy, with the noble houses in contention for power, little effort is spent on this problem. Of course, milady, you would know better than I."
Alvis says as they move quickly along, "We should get to know each other better, especially our talents for moving through wilderness and dealing with bandits and worse. Obviously, I am a priest of Abadar, and by his divine grace, able to work his miracles in this world. I thought I was a fair warrior as well, but in recent fighting it showed I have much to learn. I'm not yet a legate-priest, just a simple missionary to this region."
Faen gives Teela a casual wave of her hand, "And you can call me , Faen. Your friends were kind enough to help out of a dangerous situation." she says, pointing at the thugs frowning in her direction. "And invited me along for your journey into the unknown!"
As she get's used to her new horse's gait, she turns to Alvis, "Well, as you know my da taught me some sneaky things, I learned to fight from him and the other caravaneers. My ma had started to teach me some mage-y things, but she died before she could get too far. But, I've got her book in my pack, we'll see if I can learn anything more from that!"
"Velas and Fean, if you would like I have a bit of knowledge of horses and injuries so I could check them over." If they wish he will check any horse presented.
As Velas works on readying his horse, he welcomes Alvis' offer. "I'm a steady hand with a horse and a capable rider. But, I've never had an eye for telling one horse from another - except by color and size, perhaps."
Noting two new faces, she raises an eyebrow. Not glaring, just curious. "Two more stops and we're a legitimate caravan." she notes in jest, attempting to buy some time. "Call me Teela."
"And you can call me Velas. Well met!"
As the party discusses the best route out of town, Velas stays quiet. He knows he is a newcomer to the group and wants to deference to the others - at least for now.
Except for a scattering of farm holdings outside of the village, once you leave Nivakta's Crossing, there you enter a grassland wilderness. The grass, which has grown sere with the winter, still stands hip-high in most places and waves in the gentle breeze. The journey out of Brevoy is without incident, and the afternoon passes without meeting anyone on the road.
Soon enough it is evening, and where the Shrike River, which still follows you just to the south, makes a loop, you deem it a good place to camp for the evening, your first in the wilds. You begin the process of unpacking and hobbling the horses, setting up tents and cooking equipment. As the sun sets in the west, the sky is alight with a panoply of colors unblocked by city building or trees. It's quite a sight!
But eventually the sun disappears and a blanket of stars replaces them, the moon, half full, provides little illumination as the darkness encloses your campsite and feeling of aloneness fills each of you in this vast empty space.
Teela stops by the Pharasmite temple to drop a silver piece in the donation box before departing the settlement. She rides along with stoic determination. When the group reaches the bridge, she looks over to the other side of the river with some hope. She seems hesitant, but turns Caramel to follow the others eventually.
As the sun sets, she tightens her cloak around her shoulders and pulls the scarf over her nose. When the party finally stops to make camp, she hops off her horse and ties it to whatever seems appropriate in the immediate area before turning to others.
"I'm not good at this camping thing. Someone tell me what needs doing, and I'll try to help."
Looking around, she actually picks up a rock and strums the harp on her hip. The rock shines to illuminate the vicinity.
Quintessa adjusts her riding gloves and takes one last glance around Nivakta's Crossing as everyone falls into formation. "Lovely little hamlet." she remarks dryly, the sarcasm in her voice clear.
Oh, it's not so bad, Graham says with a smile. Well, certain parts of it, anyway.
He agrees with Alvis' assessment of the Crossing. There should be a fair bit more here, true enough. It's the only bridge across the Shrike for miles. Wonder whether we could set something up on the other side of the bridge...?
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
When the group stops for the night, Graham ties up Horse and takes a few moments to ensure everyone's ride is secured and able to forage for enough grass to eat. He grins at Teela's remark. The light certainly helps. Camping isn't much different from sleeping in an inn, save for the lack of a sturdy roof over your head, he says, lending Alvis a hand in setting up tents. And the wolves, of course.
Uncertain of the group's usual camping arrangements, Velas pitches in where he can and offers to fill any gap in the watch order.
Velas tries to reassure Teela that Graham is correct about camping, but he might be too honest in his assessment. "Hopefully our numbers should keep the wolves and worse away. And, having a fire lit could scare animals away. But, it could attract unwanted attention."
Earlier - responding to Velas request for help with his horse, Alvis check it over and says, "Reasonalby healthy, not young but not old, not really abused or greatly over worked like carriage horses are. His care seems more indifferent than cruel or really negligent. I'll see to his hocks and fetlocks." Alvis messages them for a few minutes before they take off. "We'll need to do a bit more care later but this gelding should be do fine for now.", Alvis reassures Velas.
At the camp Alvis and Graham see to the horse needs, with Graham having things in hand, Alvis sets up the camp. With a wet climate here in these river-lands even grassy areas often have pools, brooks and streams most places.
Alvis says, [b]"It's still winter, Velas, unless the danger in nearby and great, a fire is justified. However, we do not want to attract too much attention, so we dug a hole and build the fire inside. There should be a few rocks around we can use them to retain heat as the fire dies down. That will limit how far we can be seen by firelight."
He continues, [b]"Now we should set a watch order. One of the issues is that most spellcaster need a full night's sleep to refresh spells. In a three-watch rotation, the middle watch has their slumber split in two. If I understood right though all of us have some casting ability. Faen, do you have any ability to cast more than a cantrip? If not it usually does not matter at least for us priest. If that is true then logic says, that Grahm and Faen take mid-watch. So Lady Quintessa and Teela, would take first or last watch, and Velas and I take the other. For reasons of worship, I'd much rather be up for the last watch. With the fire likely at its lowest, my seeing in the dark might be even more useful then. So, I propose: first watch-Lady Quintessa and Teela, second watch-Faen and Graham, Third watch-Velas and myself. If I overlooked anything, or there is some objection, please let me know."
1 Pharast
Rostland Hinterlands - somewhere west of Nivkata's Crossing.
The night grows cold, and the travelers are thankful for the fire, especially as a brisk north wind blows up overnight and clouds crowd in over the starry night sky. After a few bites to eat, and some colorful stories, the group beds down with watches taken in turn.
Nothing disturbs your rest overnight, and the sun rises early in the east, a light breakfast is made, the beasts are fed and saddled for riding, and before long the group sets off again. Still planning on making good time to Oleg's the group does not stray from the Rostland Road, which is becoming more overgrown and less civilized with each mile you ride. There is no traffic along the roadway at all as you continue west. The cold weather sticks around on this first day of Pharast, unfortunately and while dry, the wind makes the going bitter and unpleasant.
Just before mid-day, as you continue west along the Shrike River, you can see ahead of you a structure of some sort, probably a mile distant, and right near the riverside. It seems to be on a higher hillside, though none of the area here is really very elevated, which allows for a more commanding view from the structure than from your vantage point. From here, its quite difficult to see much detail, but you cannot easily see any activity coming from the building.