Honus Gisborne's page

Assuming the troll admits to being the only ferryman, but before he has a chance to say much else, Honus interjects.

"Well, that's excellent news! You appear to be quite capable resisting the river current. Is it true? Are you strong enough to ferry us across?"

Without waiting for much response, he turns to his companions.

"You heard him. Everyone onto the ferry. Load up the supplies. This champion of the river can manage all our weight."

Honus lets everyone aboard, wrangling the goblins and allowing Fahim to roll the barrel from underfoot.

"We're ready when you are, Captain."

Honus procures a barrel from the general supplies shop. At the market, he purchases some freshwater cod, cheap and native to the Rimeflow. Outside the square, he puts his plan into action.

"Into the barrel with you. It won't be comfortable, but it's the only way since the troll has a distaste for you. It's probably your own doing, so maybe next time you will guard your tongue better."

He tosses the basket of fish over Zaiharahel, then pounds the lid down to seal him in. "Everyone, follow me." He leans the barrel over and onto its side, then rolls it down to the riverfront.

"Oi! You, there... with the coils of rope. I'm told by one of the peasants that the other side of the river is better than this one. These lot don't seem the trustworthy type, and I've a bit of time to spare, so I thought I might lay eyes on it myself. The river looks powerful though, so I hope to find a ferryman with the strength to see my group across with safety. Do you know of anyone strong enough for the task? What ferryman here is a reliable fellow?"

He stares up at the troll, one eyebrow cocked higher than the other, hands on his hips, and a foot planted firmly on the barrel of fish and elf.

Honus crosses his arms and wonders why everyone is standing in silence.

Confusion spreads across his face, and Honus gives Fahim an odd look.

"Why would you need a disguise? I think you are missing the point, Fahim. This troll has already dealt with our elven friend here, and made it clear that he is not allowed to pass. So unless we intend on parting ways, manufacturing a disguise for Zaiharahel would prove quite useful."

Is he even paying attention? We just had this conversation. Zaiharahel needs a disguise, or a crate to hide in, which he expressly stated was not his preference. So how to disguise him to not look so... elfy?

"Unless you think we can convince him to transport all of us?"

A change of clothes to start. Definitely a hat. Or a wig? A wig is probably hard to come by on short notice.

"I still say a crate is the way to go. Or a barrel! A barrel is probably cheaper."

Honus ignores Zaiharahel's quip regarding dashing looks.

"Well, magic seems like it would be most convincing..." He glances at Mexus. "But since that doesn't appear to be an option, we should gather some items that will be more convincing than rocks and a mop."

Honus looks burdened by the idea of having to wait out a troll just to afford a ferry ride across the river, then affronted after the shop keep suggests that Rimetusk may be in danger from their group. He says nothing, however, and allows Fahim to continue his banter.

If anyone can convince a troll to float a band of ill-matched do-goods accompanied by a murder of goblins across a river, it's Fahim. Wait, did I just describe a group of goblins as a murder? It's scary how accurate that sounds.

"Speaking of pleasant thoughts, do you know how Rimetusk has been feeling lately, and what may cheer him up if he is in one of his less cheerful moods?"

Hrm. Yes, a bribe is a good plan. We should still disguise our elven friend, however. It would be a shame to sour a good bribe with Zaiharahel's presence. Of no fault of his own of course. Wait, do I even know that to be true? He did speak with the troll already, so maybe it was something he said that is the real reason we can't cross. He does carry the same ugly pretension that all elves seem to share. At least the elves I've met.

Honus exhales a long sigh and picks through the shelves for items that might aid in fashioning a disguise.

Honus nods at Zaiharahel and looks at Mexus, then back at Fahim who seems to taking an unusually long time to enter the shop, then across the town square to the troll, and finally he glances toward the sun, peaking its way though thin grey clouds that scatter all the way to the horizon.

"Whatever action we take, we should take soon. We still have ground to cover once across the river."

Honus reaches into a pack and draws out some dry, stringy meat. Pulling it into uniform strips, he hands one to the Kella and each of the other Frostfur goblins.

"Good thinking, Fahim.

Zaiharahel, maybe it's best that the troll not see you with us. He may be less inclined to take our money if he knows we're traveling together. How smart and perceptive are trolls, anyway? We could try and disguise you. Any magic that could help us here, Mexus?"

Honus tries to picture the lanky, blond elf as anything but.

I don't see us being able to convince a troll that he is an old woman, but maybe someone will have a better idea for passing him off.

"We could pack you in a crate until we get across. Fahim, why don't you check on crate prices while inside that store?"

That might actually be our best bet... unless Mexus can open up a hole to some other plane that pees disguises out. Gross.

Slowly shaking his head, Honus frowns at the thought.

Everyone follows.

Honus frowns at news of the ferryman's lack of customer service, but nods at the possibility of Fahim negotiating passage for them... at least at first. His eyes flash wide when he recognizes the passive aggressive comments for what they really are. He risks a quick glance at Mexus, then quickly averts his gaze while clearing his throat.

"Um. Yes, well... We should get into town quickly before another snow storm rolls in. Let's go everyone. Up on your feet and ready to go, right now, please. The sooner we get across that river, the safer we will be. And the sooner we can all get a good meal in Trollheim, right, Kella?"

Okay, keep them all busy. Don't give an opportunity for them to start up an argument again.

Honus hoists his pack and helps everyone to gather their belongings in order to get them moving into town.

Honus spies Zaiharahel as he approaches the party.

"Zaiharahel! How did everything go? Did you secure us passage? Can we finally move forward with this adventure that we are all a part of?"

"Is everyone prepared to head to the ferry, now? Mexus? Fahim? Frostfurs?"

Fahim is busy inspecting his extracts and powders, Mexus stares intently at nothing with the utmost concentration, and the Frostfur clan lazily attack one another out of boredom. None provide Honus with any attention whatsoever, as if he had never even spoken. He feels his heart sink and a sudden recognition of emptiness in his belly causes him to look down upon himself, not out of expectation to observe visual signs of hunger, just merely a gut reaction.

Why do I bother? None of them care for what I have to say. Probably because I don't offer any constructive opinions. Stick to patrol, Honus. Let the others do the thinking. They are better at it, anyway.

He bites the inside of his lower lip and nods his head slightly with self realization, and continues his slow pace around the camp. His thoughts occupy his focus more than their surroundings, however, impeding the effectiveness of his guard.

Honus slowly paces around the group, hand upon his hilt as he keeps a wary eye on their surroundings. After a spell of Zaiharahel's absence, he stops and faces the group.

"I just thought of something. What if the ferry only travels once daily, and it's ready to go when Zaiharahel gets there? He won't be able to delay them long enough to retrieve us. That means we'll be stuck here overnight. Maybe we should head down after him? At least he's had a lead on us to find the ferryman. Unless the ferry has already gone today... then we're already too late and better off not being seen until just before the ferry travels tomorrow. Should we really just wait for him to return, or head down there to find him?"

What happened to not waiting on one person? Let's move this along. We've lost a little momentum, but we're still good!

Hey! What gives?

Merchants deal in more than just wares. They trade information about who or what they see in their travels, and our group could quickly bring unwanted attention upon itself.

Honus looks down at Kella as she begins to drool, then withdraws the map from his pack and uncurls it to review Ragna's notes. Once finished, he addresses Kella and his companions.

"This little town is not worth sticking around for, and they have little to offer aside from trouble. We should look for the ferry and get across the river as soon as we can. Trollheim is a larger city, Kella, and will have a lot more of those things you are looking to eat. Is there anything we need from this town? Is anyone low on supplies? Do we all head in together or should someone scout ahead to find the ferry captain?"

Honus checks his own rations and supplies and feels content with his stock. He looks upon the fishing village and considers it.

This place gives me a queer reminder of Railford. I'm sure the people are nice enough, but I don't care to give them enough time to prove it. After this morning, I'm starting to run low on patience. The sooner we cross into friendly territory, the better, and that won't come until we reach Trollheim.

Honus gasps and repositions his shield.

That was too close! Had he gotten my leg, I could have been dragged to the ground. There would be no way of forcing myself back up in this powdered snow. I can't let that happen. Keep your shield and stance low and swing across, not down.

He bends his knees and slashes left to right, across the front of his body. His shield slides across with the follow through, ending in a slightly lower position between him and the wolf. He rotates his wrist and readies another slash in the opposite direction.

Masterwork Longsword (+bab +str +mw -pwr att), 19/x2 crit: 1d20 + 5 - 1 ⇒ (9) + 5 - 1 = 13
Damage (+str +pwr att): 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11

Baby Owl Bear! Good times :)

No, I'm trying to lead the wolves away. Why do you goblins insist on following? I'd better try a different tactic.

Honus retraces his previous steps back toward the group trying to wedge himself between the closest wolf and pursuing goblin. He swings high to stay over his charges, but the risk is too great when Corpselicker begins hopping up and down with arms in the air.

Masterwork Longsword (+bab +str +mw -pwr att), 19/x2 crit: 1d20 + 5 - 1 ⇒ (2) + 5 - 1 = 6
Damage (+str +pwr att): 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12

"You're too close! Get back, Frostfur!"

Honus squeezes out from between the wolves, but only by a few feet, eager to draw them away from the goblins.

How can they not understand the danger of trying to ride wild animals?! These are wolves, not trained dogs!

He pivots and swings before the one beside him can round to his flank.

Masterwork Longsword (+bab +str +mw -pwr att), 19/x2 crit: 1d20 + 5 - 1 ⇒ (7) + 5 - 1 = 11
Damage (+str +pwr att): 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13

Honus snaps to attention, dropping his bedroll, leaving it to unfurl across the floor. Grabbing his sword, he throws back the flap of the tent and stomps through the fresh piles of snow toward the circle of wolves.

He takes a wide swing at the closest of them, making a show of his threat to their pack. If they want a meal of the goblins, they will have to kill him first.

Masterwork Longsword (+bab +str +mw -pwr att), 19/x2 crit: 1d20 + 5 - 1 ⇒ (5) + 5 - 1 = 9
Damage (+str +pwr att): 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10

Concentrating more on his display of power, his swing is wild and falls short of making a connection.

Throughout debate, Honus twitches and looks uncomfortable and makes no effort to speak. He shows obvious disdain for the practices of evil magic, even as Mexus states his cautionary methods. This is not alleviated by the claim that bestowing a demon's power has no lasting effect on the recipient. Eventually, confusion sets in when the idea is raised regarding evil creatures being allowed to benefit from evil magic and still remain their evil selves once all is said and done. There is no confusion, however, when the morality of their own actions is called out as questionable by any standards. Honus reddens with anger at the comparison and raises a finger to begin to argue, but Fahim combats the concepts of means and ends for them both.

He settles back and considers how magic should not be viewed as good or evil, and instead the utilization by the caster is what determines the nature of the magic, but he quickly disregards the notion by considering the foul creations of necromancy.

The creation of undead through magic is evil, through and through. Magic, most certainly, can be classified as such, regardless of the casters intent.

They are both arrogant and stubborn, but Mexus is the one who is misguided. Perhaps his nature inclines him toward an acceptance of evil, but in his argument it seems clear that he himself is not. Misguided, yes, but not evil. Perhaps over time, we can educate him. That would be the right thing to do. He must learn to understand that evil is never acceptable under any circumstance.

Resolute, he nods to himself and makes his stance known.

"I would rather die than suffer the corruption of any evil magic. If you or the goblins want different, that is your choice."But one day, hopefully soon, you will come to understand why it is wrong.

Honus watches in horror as Kella's eyes glow red through the darkness of the tent.

Asmodeus? Gifts of the infernal?! Is that what just happened? Mexus is a wizard, not a priest. But he doesn't deny his actions... And what's worse, he tries to justify it!

Honus throws all of his weight behind a look of utter contempt toward Mexus.

"Using dark prayers to save anothers life damns them for eternity. How dare you act so callous with the soul of another creature?"

It is true. Evil begets evil.

Honus mumbles a few words and stirs. Suddenly, eyes wide, he launches into a seated position while still wrapped in blankets, yanks an arm free and grabs for his sword.

"Hgrm. Whrr. What?! What's going on?"

He stumbles out of the their tent wildly searching for the others outside. Not seeing immediate danger, he slides the steel back by his side and rubs away the frost from under his nose. He lets out a wide yawn and clears his throat.

"What's all the commotion over there?"

He bobs his head and pokes around Fahim, peering into the goblins' tent.

"Is Mexus in there? What's he doing? Is that Kella?"

He pushes against Fahim and squeezes his head inside for a clear view.

"What happened? Is she going to be okay? Is it too late?! I have a healing potion!"

After hearing the reason for the signal fire, Honus loses interest in the goblin. He wanders to the battlements and looks at the other tower. After seeing what damage was caused by Fahim's bomb, and trying to make out what remains, Honus circles the tower and studies the ridges on either side of them. He takes in what can be seen both above and also below in the valley before them.

"Longshanks city far away! Very far! More than I can see!"

He steps back to Fahim's side and rests a hand upon the hilt of his sheathed sword.

"I can't think of anything else to ask him. We should check out both towers before letting them go."

Feel free to roll any applicable skill checks for me. All my skills are listed in my character profile.

"Who is the signal fire for?"

To clarify, Honus only handed Fahim the red potion. He drank the other.

"Can you identify it?"

"So, which one do we talk to first?"

"I would imagine that the shaman has more wits than the others, so questioning one that might be prone to slip ups seems the better choice. How about that one?"

Honus nods toward the one with his mouth gaping open and a large bubble of snot expanding and contracting with each breath.

At first opportunity, Honus will hand the red potion to Fahim and ask, "What do you make of this?"

Honus holds the blue potion up at eye level and swirls it. He removes the cap and gives a sniff before deciding it is in fact the same as the ones on his belt, and then drinks it down. ...Unless a Perception check gives him pause, at which point he will wait for Fahim to help identify the liquid.

All items, except armor, are moved away from the captives, including the wooden symbol.

This could be magically charged. Best to play it safe when dealing with a shaman.

Knowledge, religion (max DC10) - Zagonrel: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 1 = 20
Knowledge, religion (confirm crit): 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8
Honus does not cause his head to explode from thinking too hard.

Honus winces and groans and clutches at his side. He removes a vial from his belt, a cool blue liquid with flecks of silver, pops out the stopper and looks at it. He sighs and returns it to his belt without drinking.

Maybe one of these goblins has a healing potion on them so I don't have to drink from my own stock.

He moves up to the shaman first and empties her pockets and pouches, then does the same with the other two.

Honus turns away from the fire bowl and looks over the three goblins. He strengthens his grip on the sword's hilt, the leather creaking under the pressure of his fingers. He takes one menacing step toward their shaman, but leaves it planted there. The tightness across his face relaxes and he lets his sword point dip several inches.

There is no sense in killing these creatures. They are likely no different than the Frostfur clan, acting on impulse rather than reason. They don't know any different and may be incapable of change, but that's no reason to murder them while they sleep.

Honus jerks his eyes to the ladder as he notices Kella clambering onto the roof deck. He holds up the flat of his blade toward her, his off hand palm pushed out, then places an index finger before his lips. As the others appear from behind Kella, he motions to them as well, whispering commands while slowly backing toward the enemy.

"Sh-sh-shhhh. Do not wake them! Kella and I will collect their weapons -- without waking them -- while the rest of you get rope to tie them up. Go on, Frostfurs. Get rope, and the fat longshanks, and hurry back."

He pats at the air to indicate they should go back down the ladder.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11

Honus awkwardly swats at his side... while holding a longsword... and clinging to a ladder... 25 feet in the air. He snarls and continues to climb.

Who are the real monsters here? Would they have even attacked us had we approached them peacefully? Don't be ridiculous! They're goblins and the exact reason they have perched here is to prey on passersby. But still, why the signal fire? I hope it's more goblins and not something... bigger.

Putting out the signal fire is priority once Honus reaches the top.

The momentous force from throwing his entire weight into the door carries Honus inside. He brandishes his blade and scans for a way to the roof. If the way is clear, he begins ascent.

Honus rushes the door, but a spray of ice and... mud? throws his concentration. He shakes off the flecks and beads, rocks back, and launches himself forward.

I need to make quick work of this door. Who knows what that signal fire will bring.

Strength check: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22

The western tower seems clear of dangers, so Honus emerges from within, and makes a charge at the second tower.

Double move.

Honus instinctively ducks from the explosion and shower of debris, but quickly regains composure to swing again upon the wooden door.

Masterwork Longsword (+bab +str +mw -pwr att), 19/x2 crit: 1d20 + 5 - 1 ⇒ (19) + 5 - 1 = 23
Damage (+str +pwr att): 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6

"No! This was not the plan!"

Iomedae, get me into this tower and I will see that these cowardice goblins suffer a fate they deserve.

Honus scowls at the goblins, then rushes the door of the left tower, crashing his longsword into the rotting planks.

Initiative: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14

Honus turns an ear toward Fahim as he speaks, then anxiously looks to the path from which they came.

Sweep in from behind? Darn! I hadn't considered that. That will make things so much worse if it's true. We aren't equipped to combat foes from all sides. We need to act.

Honus is not good at hiding his nerves in most circumstances, so when he draws his sword and dawns his shield, and those nerves seem to disappear, the group knows he is acting with utmost confidence.

"Fahim, mix your concoction, then you and I will move toward the left tower door to gain entry. Zaiharahel, ready your bow in case anyone presents themselves with arms at the top of either tower. Kella and Corpselicker, watch for anyone on the towers as well, and point out anything that moves. Mexus, keep eyes on your flank. Zaiharahel won't be able to know if anyone is coming up from behind. Ankleknocker and Dunghurler will help Mexus. When we get to the tower, I will call out further direction."

The group stands at the ready for ten minutes while Fahim prepares himself. Once he gives the word, Honus will nod affirmation and lead them forward (double move).

As they close the distance to the left tower...

"We share the same ill feelings toward enemy archers. If need be, I will pour that healing potion into your mouth. I have one of my own in the pouch on my belt. Just in case."

Honus listens to Mexus, and nods along in agreement. That is, until he bares his jagged smile and directs Honus to devise a plan for him.

Lazy... Always putting off the difficult tasks. I have yet to meet a noble nobleman.

"Running through seems rash and dangerous. What if there is a pitfall of some sort that has yet to be seen? If a couple of us move forward to make certain the path is clear, I would feel more comfortable with that plan."

Honus considers previous encounters in which Mexus tried to convince someone of something.

"NO! I mean, putting them to sleep might be an option, and one less tower to worry about is, well, one less tower to worry about, but let's not attempt any communications just yet. Let's also consider that others may need to travel through this pass, and may not be as skilled as we. It may not be our duty to create a safe passage here, but one might consider it a moral imperative. That means clearing these towers of any murderers and thieves that may lurk behind their ramparts."

Honus looks at his feet with a furrowed brow, sets his hand firmly upon the leather wrapped hilt at his side, and waits for anyone else to speak up before taking action.

Knowledge, history: Admiral Ach'ber: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20

"Gentlemen, I believe those towers are occupied."

Honus makes an immediate halt and throws one palm behind him as sign for the others to stop as well. He scans each tower up and down, then turns his head as if looking at Mexus, but keeps his eyes locked ahead. He says nothing, and slowly rotates his head forward again.

We're within arrows' reach. We need to retreat and formulate a plan. But if we retreat, and someone is indeed waiting to make an ambush, they will know we're wise to their presence. They probably already do. Why else would we have stopped? Even if they know, there's no way they would come out from the towers... unless they greatly outnumber us. But those kinds of numbers could never hide from Zaiharahel. Wait, did he even enter the towers?

This time, Honus looks over his other shoulder, keeping his eyes locked ahead until his head has rotated nearly 90 degrees. Only then does he allow himself the briefest of glimpses at his elf companion before returning his full focus to the towers. He speaks at conversational volume, but continues to look ahead.

"Zaiharahel, when you scouted ahead, did you enter the towers? If they are occupied, then they are occupied with the intent to ambush travelers. The towers were once used to guard this pass during the Winter War, but the war is long over. We're within arrows' reach from here, but I don't think they will fire upon us unless we close the distance. Any ideas on how to proceed? I don't believe there are alternate routes. Mexus, do you possess any magic that could conceal us, or help defend us as we pass through?"

Knowledge, engineering: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21

We do have horses, right? I assume the goblins do not. If the goblins travel by foot, does Honus anticipate being able to arrive at the rendezvous by the predesignated time?

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18
Perception: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (1) + 0 = 1
Survival: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20

Honus heads the column. Scouting ahead is up to Zaiharahel, though Honus would not be the one to suggest it. He has no preference regarding the matter, so long as their pace is not slowed. The goblins are kept separated for the most part. If the pace is not quick enough by foot, then each horse would have to bear the weight of one party member, plus one goblin. If there are abandoned structures along the way, then Zaiharahel will check for traps or signs of inhabitants. Assuming none, search for treasures!

Oh, good! I was worried I would have to convince them. Well done, Fahim. Talk some sense into those two. Are goblins nocturnal? What do I know about these little creatures?

Knowledge, dungeoneering: Goblins: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15
Handle Animal: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18

Honus removes the packs and saddle from his horse and finds a good place to tie it up, then aids the others with the same. He nods approval when Zaiharahel volunteers watch, and looks to both party members and goblins when asking the question,

"What if these four take shifts as well? An extra set of eyes can't hurt."

As he begins collecting wood and breaking it into two and three-foot lengths, he gets an idea and asks only to the goblins,

"Which of you thinks they are best at collecting wood for a campfire?"

As one or more goblins take to the woods, Honus extracts just enough food to reward each. He builds himself a nest of blankets and furs, cleverly tucking the pack of food underneath to form a pillow while the goblins are distracted with their task. As they return, he commends and rewards Kella and the rest, then settles in with a smile on his face.

Stealth: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (18) + 0 = 18

"That's right. We're bosses now, and heading to a place called Harvest's End. Have you been there, or know anything about it?"

Honus hoists the pack onto his horse's saddle and secures it while considering the dangers of traveling at night.

Survival: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18

On the third day, well-rested, you follow the river's curve to the north. About midday you see the city of Trollheim across the river, and take the ferry to that city. (You have the opportunity to buy additional supplies at this time if you wish.)

We stock up on torches, and if having another additional blanket will help add to our Fort. saves, I will buy one for 5sp.

"As merchants we are always looking for a good deal... Though as you can see, we are without horses..."

I thought we were provided with horses? Did I miss a post about losing them somehow?

Darn it! I didn't even realize what hour it had become. I must look like a fool in front of these seasoned Pathfinders, but we simply don't have the experience to travel at night. I will have to fess up and ask for advice. At least I seem to have won the goblins over. Hopefully I can maintain their confidence, and perhaps even a bit of loyalty.

Honus moves his hand to pat one of the goblins on the head, Is this one Corpselicker, or Ankleknocker? At least neither is Dunghurler, but thinks better of it and responds to Ragna instead.

"No, it's probably best that we not travel at night. And, truthfully, we aren't accustomed to the cold, either. Do you know of a place nearby for shelter?"

Honus looks at Ragna's feet, feeling weak from the confession.

Honus watches as Kella takes offense to Zaiharahel's overtly sarcastic statement, throws a tantrum, and demands a weapon.

Great. Five juvenile minds.

"Kella, my name is Honus. Would you like a sword or would you prefer food? As chief, you get food before the others, right? Ragna, we were told that you would have supplies for the goblins. We'd better get that from you, now, and then be on our way."

He looks to Mexus and Fahim for confirmation.

"Is there anything else before we go?"

Ragna Lightfoot introduces the goblin band and skips any additional pleasantries. It quickly becomes evident as to the nature of her hurry when the creatures begin infighting. Honus accepts the map and studies it carefully as she explains her markings and paths. He rubs the back of his glove across his face vigorously for a moment, knocking away the frost and ice that has seemingly frozen his lips shut until now.

"Do you have any contacts that we can name if these Black Ravens do happen to stop us?"

Honus then pulls her aside and speaks softly as the goblins continue their childish behavior. He looks back at them with a frown, not in distaste, but with obvious reservation over the coming weeks.

"Based on what you've had to deal with in getting the goblins to this point, do you have any words of caution or suggestions for us? What to do, what not to do, ways to calm them, anything? I get the feeling we are going to have our hands full."

Does Ragna supply rations, etc. for the goblins' survival?

FYI - I thought only standard equipment was available between sessions. Now that Bryan has told me that potions are available as well, I've added some Cure Light Wounds potions to my equipment list. It's something I would have picked up had I known earlier. Unfortunately, I had no way of knowing how beneficial some Endure Elements potions would have been, otherwise I would have gotten some of those as well.

Honus would make his purchase known to the group at some point before venturing out, in case something terrible happens and he is not able to drink one himself or administer one to someone else.

Honus has the Endurance feat, so +4 to saves v. cold, but would have still failed his DC18 save.

It feels like the entire day has gone by, but the sun says otherwise. Can it really only be midday? We'll never reach the infiltration team if we can't even make it through a single day of travel. We need a better plan. Or maybe we just need soup. That little lodge has a chimney. We can build a fire to warm ourselves for an hour or so, get a hot lunch in our bellies, then push onward.

Honus looks toward the sky when Mexus makes his suggestion to stop, then opens his mouth to speak. When a thick roll of steam escapes off his tongue, he anxiously considers cupping his hands around it and sucking it back in to not lose the little stores of warmth he has left. His hands twitch at the idea, but nothing more.

"Good thinking, Mexus. We should definitely stop for a bit. I can check our maps to make sure we're on the right path, and cross check the latitude and elevation to get a better sense of the weather patterns."

Honus takes a seat opposite Zaiharahel, straddling the bench and resting his elbow upon the table. His brow peaks as Mexus skips the lengthy introductions, and nods and grins as the Tiefling presents himself earnestly.

Nice. Perhaps our last adventure has given him a bit of humility. Mexus really is an impressive person when he's not trying to tell you how impressive his lineage is.

His nods blossom into a smile as Fahim begins his own introductions.

Uplifting and cheerful, indeed!

Suddenly, the light turns upon the knight in shining armor, catching him flat-footed and burning his cheeks with the heat of the moment. His eyes turn soft and glassy, and Honus cannot help but to bristle and squirm from a mix of pride and humility.

"Well, I - just - did - what anyone..."

His head bobs and shakes as he tries to find the words, but they seem lost amidst the numerous pauses of his speech pattern. He scratches at his forehead and looks at the table before finally finding the almond eyes of the Elf, Zaiharahel.

"Hi there. I'm Honus."

Honus is a young man, in his early twenties, with dark circles below his eyes and a shadow wrapped across his chin from their previous weeks of travel. His limp brown hair clusters in sweat, and he runs his hands through it every so often to keep it from plastering over his forehead. As he does, it's easy to notice the over-sized muscles that are typically found in the arms of a swordsman. The longsword at his hip and oaken shield on his back are clear indication of his training as well, but Fahim's words speak clearest as to his level of skill.