The day finally arrived. After almost a month of interviews and exercises the final four groups of explorers was set to be announced today. As you enter the grand hall of the mayor’s residence you notice several long tables set up in the middle of the room and sideboards laden with various meats and cheeses line the walls. Several casks of wine and ale, already tapped, stand in a corner presided over by a steward who seems intent on insuring every cup is full.
As you look around you notice several of the tables nearer the high table seem to have already been claimed. At one table, a handsome man wearing full plate armor, a tabard emblazoned with the longsword symbol of Iomedae worn over it, sits locked in deep discussion with similarly armored men. At another table a man dressed in noble finery sits with another man, wearing a suit of highly polished chain mail, airily gesturing with his wine cup while observing events. At a third table sits a hard eyed man, dressed in well-to-do clothes, warily eyeing the arriving guests as his men seem particularly uninterested in the festivities going on around them. As you enter the room this man raises his glass to you in a quiet salute.
A fourth table sits currently unoccupied. As you take a place at this table you are soon joined by five other people, clearly adventurers and fortune-seekers, like yourself. As your table fills in servants bring platters of meats and cheeses along with trays of wine, ale, and mead.
The one-eyed half-orc leers across the group of people with the symbol of Iomedae and others. He wears chainmail with common clothing, torn from his travels across Golarian to get here and armed with a greatsword and heavy flial strapped to his back with his backpack, sling hanging from the hip and a punching dagger attached to his right wrist. The dirt on the armour suggests it has been in constant use.
He has a hardened and intimidating look about him, only increased by the strange tatoos that cover different parts of his face and neck, possibly further across the body which cannot be seen.
Davor remains silent to observe the people at the table before he introduces himself.
"A untamable land filled with monsterous creatures? Sounds like fun." a smirk appears across his face as this thought goes through his mind.
A stout Dwarf, with blond hair and beard in a thick braid, immediately gulps down half his tankard of mead, stopping only to stuff some cheese into his mouth. Realizing he is likely being rude by his voraciousness, he sets down his tankard, swallows the cheese in his mouth and speaks up.
I s'pose I should introduce meself. Me name's Tarith and I hail from Southern Brevoy.
Tarith wears a finely made chain shirt and carries a Dwarven-made Waraxe with him. Forgetting his earlier rudeness, Tarith brings his tankard back to his lips for another long gulp.
A willowy young human with shoulder length blond hair worn free with sky blue eyes sits down at the table. He is fresh faced with a recent shave and hair nicely combed. His cloths are simple and clean however the chain shirt he is wearing is of excellent quality easily the equal to any worn at the high table. At his side a long sword hangs from his belt peace bound in its sheath. Looking around the table he takes measure of each favoring all of his future companions with a smile and nod of acknowledgment. Good to meet you Tarith. I am Ragnor, Restov is or I guess was my home. The wilds will be our home at least for a little while. Ragnor pops a piece of cheese from a plate and takes a swig of ale savoring the taste. I plan on enjoying this it will likely be many light cold meals in our future.
A tall man in dark brown leather armor and a faded cloak strides confidently into the room.
He returns the salute with a small bow, heels clicking together.
"So gentlemen, it appears we will starting this new life together. I am glad to meet you all. My name is Caelius Nicos." He emphasizes the last name for some reason, his gaze locked on the hard eyed man.
Davor feeling that he better speak up before everyone tries to shake it out of him clears his throat.
"My name is Davor, from Belkzen." he growls showing a clear dislike from the area "My current home is the wilds and I have spent much of my life in the south of Brevoy. I look forward to our war against the monsters of the Stolen Lands."
Davor stares off into the distance at the warriors wearing the symbol of Iomedae.
"Same symbol as my mother's armour. Never felt an attachment to her deity though."
A young woman, blonde-haired and blue-eyed, wearing ill-fitting traveling clothes, slides into the room, glancing around at the band of armed and fearsome warriors. For a moment, a look of fear or at least unease–as if she recognizes how out of place she appears among the crowd–dashes across her face, but she quickly masters her feelings, putting on a look of breezy unconcern. Glancing around, she sees an empty space at the fourth table and flutters over, sitting among the gathered adventurers. As she does a small unremarkable bird flies into the room settling on the woman's shoulder.
She's attractive, but it's the sort of prettiness that results from a life of privilege, from always having enough food and avoiding the diseases that come with poverty. She smiles and fiddles with her dirty blonde hair, "I'm Agnatha. I grew up around the Gronzi Forest. I guess that I will be accompanying you fellows on this adventure"
Caelius stands as Agnatha approaches the table.
"We welcome you fair lady." Caelius bows.
After everyone is seated again.
"It seems that many of our band are familiar with the wilderness. This reassures me because I must admit that I am very much a child of cities. I am however a fast study so I hope I will not prove too much a burden."
"Where's the Mayor?" he asks more out of bordom than out of genuine concern. He uses his one good eye to leer about the room, moving his hair out of the way. At Caelius' mention of many of the group being familiar with the wilderness he gives a smirk. "Know thy enemy."
Tarith responds to Caelius, "You cannot be any worse than the last man I worked with. Couldn't ride for an hour before complaining he had to take a leak. Ended up brushing against some poison oak on our fourth stop!"
Tarith guffaws loudly, but stops abruptly when he remembers that there is a lady at the table.
"Forgive me lass. Sometimes I forget meself."
Caelius it is good to see you again. It will be nice to have a familiar face on the trip.
I am glad to see we have someone that is an experienced woodsman. I look forward to working with you Davor. Raising his mug to Davor.
Ragnor follows the birds movements as it fly's in and lands at Agnatha shoulder. Well met Lady Agnatha am I mistaken or is that small bird bound to you? I have read about such things and hope to one day master that form of magic. Wonders if lady Agnatha has had formal schooling in the magical arts.
Caelius peers at Ragnor...
"Ragnor?...RAGNOR!"
Caelius nearly upsets the table as he folds ragnor into a hug.
"Ragnor you old sot. It's been what four years?" Laughing. 'And when did you grow that beard?
Ragnor accepts the hug patting Caelius heartily. Pulling back he strokes the recently groomed goatee Ow this little spit of hair. Gives me that proper roguish quality the women like. Stepping back Ragnor looks Caelius up and down The years have changed you as well, for the better I would say.
I am glad to see we have someone that is an experienced woodsman. I look forward to working with you Davor. Raising his mug to Davor.
Davor remains silent looking over the group still and seemingly agitated. He gives a nod to what Ragnor says as it is obvious Davor doesn't have a mug nearby.
"Do not worry, master dwarf, I fear that, where we are going, I shall have to get used behavior far more uncouth than that," Agnatha smiles warmly. But I must say, I don't quite get the joke . . . what exactly did he brush up against the poison ivy . . .?" Agnatha tries to suppress her laughter at her joke, hoping to cause Tarith the minor embarrassment of explaining male anatomy to a lady, but fails, laughing merrily. "I'm kidding, my brother Petrov did the same thing when he was eight."
Turning then to Ragnor, "Oh, that's Sonja." The bird titters happily at the mention of its name. "I called her to me just under a year ago. Wasn't so sure I could do it, but she came nonetheless. Between me and you, I was hoping for something a bit bigger, more intimidating. Like an eagle." At this, the bird erupts into an indignant torrent of chirps and something that sounds almost like language.
"Actually," Agnatha continues, "she may be very useful where we are going. Most people overlook a bird. It makes her a pretty good spy. Hearing the praise the bird begins tweeting happily again. "Bit of a pig though," Agnatha concludes, pulling apart some bread and feeding it to the thrush.
"Actually," Agnatha continues, "she may be very useful where we are going. Most people overlook a bird. It makes her a pretty good spy. Hearing the praise the bird begins tweeting happily again. "Bit of a pig though," Agnatha concludes, pulling apart some bread and feeding it to the thrush.
"Would the bird really be that useful? Perhaps with the bandits but the creatures of the forest might either dissuade the bird, or eat it." he looks over at the bird with an interest, curious at how fast and how well it could be able to see from the sky, however his howledge doesn't appear to streach so far as to a small bird he could crush with ease, but he doesn't take pleasure in killing innocent and non-threatening creatures. For now, he hopes the bird can indeed be the little spy the woman suggests.
With a final good natured slap to Caelius shoulder Ragnor takes his seat. Did you study under a master or were you able to find training in your art at an academy of magic Lady Agnatha.
A meticulously dressed dwarf, with a maintained beard marked by a few beads and braids in a formulaic display, sits at one end of the table. He was almost unnoticed as the group made introductions, until he began writing and speaking in concert to their greetings.
"Let's see..Tarith,..Ragnor,...Caelius? Gonna ask for spelling.. *mumbles*"maybe K or hard C, y, ae.. most confusing" *scribbles notes on a sheet of paper* "Davor, hmm Half-orc? hope he won't be a problem... and Agnatha, a woman" This last word he underlines, glances at her, then nods and underlines it again. "Uh, hello all My name.." he stops short when Agnatha introduces her little friend, and goes back to his writing, adding after her entry, "Sonja,... little bird" this he circles emphatically.
Looking up and seeing looks of expectation from the others, he realizes he didn't finish his introduction. "Oh! Yes, um, Holbrecht, my name, that I'm Holbrecht. Wait, let me do that over."
He regains his composure then restarts. "Hello all, my name is Holbrecht Bastionne, I hail from a good distance south.. well good distance that's not very precise, if I did the math I imagine... Sorry, I'm from Ostenso. If you are interested, I could compile the numbers for you... Nice to meet you all, and I look forward to what we may accomplish and produce for this world"
He pauses for a bit, looking from each of the others, before he dips his head back to his papers, and starts working the math problem he just assigned himself. Absently, popping a hunk of bread and cheese into his mouth with ink-stained fingers, before taking a swig of ale.
"Um . . . ,"Agnatha begins, "actually, I learned from a book my grandfather left me. That why I'm never sure if some of this stuff will work until I try. You don't suppose you'd let me put you to sleep, would you?" She glances around. "On second thought, I doubt that, in this company, a nap would be the wisest course of action."
Seeing Holbrecht lost in calculations, Agnatha tosses out: "Do me a favor, master engineer, Could you figure out how much my little piggy here can eat until she pops?" Agnatha smiles handing her bird some more bread. "Perhaps we could rustle up some chicken for you, Sonja. I'm just teasing. I think Iomedae frowns on the eating of cousins. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble with those gentlemen over there."
"So city boy," Agnatha turns to Caelius, "Where are you from? And what draws you to the wilderness."
Ragnor is gob struck. That is an amazing coincidence. Magic runs in my mothers side of the family. She was not touched by the gift but she said she seen it in me and gave me my great grandfathers diary and a spell book that was passed down with it. So I can appreciate your difficulties I had to learn many things by trial and error myself in secret from my father. He never really approved of my interest in magic. Ragnor seems to be lost in his thoughts for a moment before smiling again Had a few amusing accidents learning of coarse at the time I was to worried about covering them up so my father didn't find out to see the humor in them. Ragnor takes a long draw from his ale before continuing. Had to dodge my father for a good part of the day when I turned my hair a deep shade of purple. I got my hide tanned good for ducking out on my chores but it was worth it.
Tarith, after laughing heartily at Agnatha's joke, looks over at the other dwarf. Holbrecht, eh? Nice to see that I've got another of me kind here. No offense to the rest of ye of course, it's just that I haven't met another dwarf in quite some time.
Tarith attempts to take another swig from his tankard before realizing he'd already emptied it. Disappointed, he pops another piece of meat in his mouth and chews noisily, then looks over to Ragnor and Agnatha.
Magic, eh? No magic runs in me family, so I can't say I know much about it. Me father met a wizard once, or so he always said. He loved to tell stories about how the man could make things vanish into thin air. Wish I could have seen that!
Those paying attention notice that Tarith shows a bit of anguish at the mention of his father, but he quickly steels his demeanor.
"Oh, young lady, I don't think I would be able to adequately establish those calculations. Well, not at my level of experience with animals.. but I imagine if I could... maybe find the basic numbers, area, elasticity,... and rate of digestion.. maybe base it... how fast she eats.." He gets quieter, trails off a little, going between tilting his head to the side while he looks skyward and focusing again at his paper.
"If you could get me the numbers I could certainly find that information for you." He offers with a nod.
At Tarith's mention of Holbrecht's name, he begins to respond "Of your kind? You also a priest o... oh, Dwarf, yes, yes of course. Why haven't you seen any other Dwarves? Numerically speaking, the odds are rather high in any instance that you should, given our lifespans... and birthrates... there's the base demographic on most cities... He begins to trail off, more focused on the odds than his own question.
He stops, and looks blankly at Tarith, as if he just remembered he had asked him something.
Davor just looks over the new dwarf and notices how he continues to scribble things whilst looking at everyone. Davor leers back with his single eye but then looks over to Tarith as he appears to show anguish at mention of his father. Davor than draws his blade and looks upon it, still seeing the blood of his father when he killed him that faithful night, but in reality the blade was clean. He returnes it to it's scabbard on his back, not wanting to cause a scene by swinging it about.
"Why do you write down so much? Strength is in the power of your arms, not in the ink of a quill." though he looks intimidating, this is a genuine question.
"Strength is not an absolute.." he looks down at his paper "Ah, Davor, through the calculations on my papers, I would be capable of allowing someone with much less muscle than yourself lift four times what you alone are able to lift. All with a rope and a well placed pulley. Do you think all these magnificent constructs were cobbled together by pure bulk lifting. No, they used math and simple machinery." reflecting a little he wraps up his thought "Math, unlike strength, IS an absolute, it does not lie, either it is right or wrong. It has no opinion, no preference, no bias. It is the building block that makes up all things, only the Gods are above math." He picks up the small silver mask hanging on a chain around his neck, showing it to Davor.
"I will make an agreement with you, I will watch you during battle and make my calculations based on your results. Using those solutions, I will show you how to change your swing to utilize math's potential to increase your output. If I am successful, you acknowledge that it was not your strength alone that increased your success?" He offers.
It seems that, thus far, only when talking about math does he not ramble or trail off, and a light of enthusiasm can be seen in his eyes.
"Strength is not an absolute.." he looks down at his paper "Ah, Davor, through the calculations on my papers, I would be capable of allowing someone with much less muscle than yourself lift four times what you alone are able to lift. All with a rope and a well placed pulley. Do you think all these magnificent constructs were cobbled together by pure bulk lifting. No, they used math and simple machinery." reflecting a little he wraps up his thought "Math, unlike strength, IS an absolute, it does not lie, either it is right or wrong. It has no opinion, no preference, no bias. It is the building block that makes up all things, only the Gods are above math." He picks up the small silver mask hanging on a chain around his neck, showing it to Davor.
"I will make an agreement with you, I will watch you during battle and make my calculations based on your results. Using those solutions, I will show you how to change your swing to utilize math's potential to increase your output. If I am successful, you acknowledge that it was not your strength alone that increased your success?" He offers.
It seems that, thus far, only when talking about math does he not ramble or trail off, and a light of enthusiasm can be seen in his eyes.
"Hmm...odd that a Dwarf would woreship a Gnomish Deity, but you do have a point as she is often seen by the Gnomes as a perfect construct." he nods as he mulls that over in his mind. "There is logic in what you say, but at the same time do you not need strong people to pull the rope at the ends of those very inventions for lifting stone is the muscle to pull the rope, muscle to forge the iron bolts to keep it from falling apart. However, Strength of will is mightier that both." after a few moments he sighs "I do not mean to offend. I woreship the lord in iron, Gorum. So far I've only see strength and faith win a battle, but perhaps maths has it's place on the battle field too. I look forward to seeing that."
"Small point of fact, no deity belongs to anyone. Therefore, there is no such thing as a Gnomish deity. We belong to the Gods, thus Brigh is just a deity that has many Gnomish followers, and at least one dwarf that I am aware of. We are hers, she is not ours... the large amount of gnome followers and I... that is what I mean by we and our... not to say that you cannot be hers... but that you get to choose who tends your soul... In summation, a god is a god, never dwarven, gnomish or even orc." He manages to explain, once again returning to fumbling his words when speaking of anything beyond his focus.
"Small point of fact, no deity belongs to anyone. Therefore, there is no such thing as a Gnomish deity. We belong to the Gods, thus Brigh is just a deity that has many Gnomish followers, and at least one dwarf that I am aware of. We are hers, she is not ours... the large amount of gnome followers and I... that is what I mean by we and our... not to say that you cannot be hers... but that you get to choose who tends your soul... In summation, a god is a god, never dwarven, gnomish or even orc." He manages to explain, once again returning to fumbling his words when speaking of anything beyond his focus.
Davor nods, listening as the dwarf explains these things.
"True enough." he nods as he says this agreeingly. "Why, may I ask did you sign up to this expedition?"
Tarith responds to Holbrecht before his conversation with Davor, "I've been living alone for a while. My job as a guide is the only interaction I typically get and it is usually with humans and the occasional half-elf."
Tarith then sits back to listen to some of the conversations going on, secretly wishing someone would come by with another tankard of ale.
My reasons for coming on the expedition was to prove myself as my own man outside of my fathers influence. I would like to be something other then the son of Birger the weapon smith. Ragnor looks thoughtful for a moment before continuing. That sounds childish hearing it spoken aloud to my own ears and a weak reason to risk life and limb but there it is. Ragnor shrugs and reaches for one of the sliced meats slowly chewing on the delicacy.
"Purple hair! You should've kept that. It would've given you that 'roguish look that the ladies love.' Perhaps you could teach me that spell; purple would be far better than this drab mess that I have now."
Agnatha listens intently to the conversation between Davor and Holbrecht, trying to hide her amazement at the sophistication of the talk. "But what of Cayden Cailean. Everyone knows that he's just a human that go so drunk that instead of a hangover, he woke up the next morning, a god?"
As the conversations around the table begin to wind down, and the mood seems to shift from festive to restive, despite the efforts of the quartet quietly playing in a corner of the room a door near the head table opens and the music stops, as if on cue.
Emerging from the door is the Lord Mayor Ioseph Sellemius, a well dressed nobleman, and a noblewoman with a well worn dueling sword incongruously strapped across the waist of her gown . Behind the nobles enter two functionaries, bureaucrats really, one of which is carrying four scrolls.
As the noise in the room quiets down the Lord Mayor stands and clears his throat ”My Lords and Ladies, I bid you welcome. Today is a great day, a momentous day, as today we begin to strengthen our borders and secure our trade routes against those who would seek to disrupt or plunder our merchants and our citizens who are merely going about their normal lives. Today we, the Swordlords” He bows his head to the two nobles seated on either side of him ”and I, charge all assembled here to go forth and explore the regions outside our borders and to eradicate those enemies of Brevoy who cannot or will not see the errors of their ways.”
So saying, he resumes his seat and reaches back to one of the servants standing behind him. The servant hands the Lord Mayor one of the scrolls he is carrying. The Lord Mayor unfurls the scroll, looks it over, and rises again ”To the area known as the Glenebon Uplands, we charge Captain Gabriel Hightower and his band, known as the Iron Wraiths, to rid these hilllands of the barbarian horde known as the Tiger Lords and to make contact with the Kingdom of Pitax and establish a firm border with said kingdom.” As he finishes speaking, the handsome man in the full plate armor stands from his table and walks up to the high table where the Lord Mayor quickly signs the parchment and hands it over to him.
”Next, to the area known as the Nomen Heights, we send Sworlord Maeger Varn and his men to establish relations with the centaur tribes inhabiting the region and to establish an outpost for continued trade with them.” The hard eyed man who saluted you as you walked in stands and approaches the high table where he receives the scroll from the Lord Mayor and a nod from each of the nobles seated there.
”To the Hooktongue Slough we send Baron Hannis Drelev and his retainers to establish an outpost to secure this most vital trade route.” The nobleman seated next to the General in the chain mail stands and approaches the high table with a bow where he receives his charter.
”And last, but not least, we charge this band of highly skilled adventurers to explore and chart the area known as the Greenbelt and to secure our borders from the lawless bands who shelter there.” so saying he signs the last scroll with a flourish and stands expectantly, waiting for someone to approach and accept the charter.
Tarith, unsure of who should rightfully receive the scroll for the group, decides that he is just as good as any. He stands up and walks over to the high table, looking rather short next to it. He reaches up and graciously accepts the scroll from the Lord Mayor, bowing humbly as he does so. Tarith returns to the tables and lays the scroll right in the center for everyone to see.
Tarith then sits back and waits to see if the Lord Mayor has anything else to say before discussing the assignment with his companions.
Tarith, unsure of who should rightfully receive the scroll for the group, decides that he is just as good as any. He stands up and walks over to the high table, looking rather short next to it. He reaches up and graciously accepts the scroll from the Lord Mayor, bowing humbly as he does so. Tarith returns to the tables and lays the scroll right in the center for everyone to see.
Tarith then sits back and waits to see if the Lord Mayor has anything else to say before discussing the assignment with his companions.
Davor nods towards Tarith with a small smile on his lips as he looks over the scroll on the table with little interest.
"Removing the barbarian horde sounded the more fun, but my curiosity drives me to want to map out this area and route out whatever might be hiding out there."
The Lord Mayor looks almost relieved as Tarith approaches the high table. As he hands the scroll to the Dwarf he whispers "Thank you, Master Ordin. I wasn't sure how this was going to play out."
Once Tarith resumes his seat, the two nobles stand along side the Mayor and raise their glasses, the noblewoman speaks "On behalf of our regent, Noleski Surtova, we the Swordlords thank you and wish you the best of luck in your endeavors. Enjoy your evening, all we ask is that you be ready to depart on the morrow" As she finishes speaking she raises her glass in salute and finishes it off in one gulp, the others at table follow suit and all three depart through the door which they came through with the remaining bureaucrats in tow.
As the door closes, the musicians start up again as the servants continue to move about the room dispensing food and drink where needed.
Lady Agnatha you have beautiful hair though turning it purple would certainly add an exotic flair to your loveliness. Ragnor gives Agnatha his most charming smile before adding I look forward to exchanging ideas and insights on magic in the future. with the quieting of the room Ragnor reluctantly turns his attention to the high table and listens to the Lord Mayors speech. When the Lord Mayor indicates the groups table Ragnor hesitates a moment to long to get up before Tarith takes the initiative and accepts the scroll and carries it back to the table.
Ragnor waits to see if the Lord Mayor or any of the other Swordlords have anything to add before pursuing the scroll. When they offer the toast he raises his mug with the others in the salute.
Davor watches as they leave and turns to the group.
"Shall we agree to meet somewhere in the morning or leave immediately. My blade thirsts for blood." he says simply as he makes it obvious that he's eager to leave and cut down something that gets in his way.
Finishing his examination of the charter Ragnor looks up from its contents and responds to Davor's suggestion. That seems a fine idea to me I had hoped to say good bye to my family before leaving Restov.
"Well, I've long since said goodbye to all my family, but leaving in the morn is fine for me. I shall spend the evening adventuring in the big city. By which I mean going to sleep early in a comfortable bed. I fear it is the last I shall see for some time. Unless this Oleg is a more ambitious man than I imagine"
"I have no family, so I have nothing to keep us from marching into the stolentlands." he says as he looks a little dissappointed that people have something holding them back. "Anyone else wish to spend our time remaining in Brevoy?"
"So city boy," Agnatha turns to Caelius, "Where are you from? And what draws you to the wilderness."
I born in the north and have lived in both New Stetven and in Restov where I met Ragnor and was kicked out of the dueling school.
Like other folks heading south I am looking for change and a new life. I have some longer term plans but let's see how this venture turns out.
I am also free of entanglements Devor. I do however know there is a play by Talmedes starting at the Ox tonight. I know the prop-master and can get us in. What say you all to a little culture before the long walk south?
Tarith laughs loudly at the mention of culture.
Tell you what. If I join you for some culture, will you join me for some drinking after?
Despite his seeming disdain for the idea, Tarith would actually enjoy a good theatrical performance, and this will come across in his voice and expressions.
"Oh, well I came because I have family... well clan ties.... not like FAMILY family... more distant cousins.... would it be four or five times removed?... If my father, had the one cousin..." he mumbles for a bit.
"Ah, nonetheless, the soft science of lineage aside, I have clan ties to the Golka, and I understand that they're owed some due from House Garess... sounds like caress... is it similiar? Maybe they are gentle... that would be nice... and agreeable toward my purpose." again his voice trailing off with his sentences.
Holbrecht listens intently, jotting down the names an locations of each group and their assignments. Upon mention of the last group, Holbrecht waits, watching the Lord Mayor hold the writ. Wondering who he is waiting for, and only realizing it when Tarith stands that it the very group from the table he is seated with.
When Tarith spreads the charter out, Holbrecht begins reading, then stops to start taking notes. "Thirty-six, doubled... multiply by sixty... that is four thousand three hundred twenty square miles of land to cover" this last he says clearly aloud. "Well, we should establish a sound method to clearly cover this much terrain." he suggests, but by not looking at anyone, it seems as if he's telling himself.
"I understand your haste, Davor, time is valuable and should not be squandered. However... to fully maximize our capabilities during travel and exploration... four thousand three hundred twenty square miles is a lot..., a full day's light would be most beneficial and productive to accomplishing our goal. As most of the day has passed... though I'm not positive what hour it is at present...., we would sadly make little progress this night, and maybe even use up more resources by an early night in the wilds."
"A play I would have to pass on... thank you... it's not that I don't appreciate.. I find they all focus too much on the emotional irrationalities, and the characters make unbelievable leaps of logic... then there I am... no logical reason... now I have more questions... how do they even reach those conclusions... They just don't seem to come to a reasonable close." He seems to be remembering back, a look of irritation and confusion crossing his features.
"When and where should me meet? I will require enough time to prepare Sledge for travel, and to gather my things. Oh, before I forget, regarding the issue of the writ. Do we want to decide who would be best to represent us in times of courtly assignments? All the other groups had a representative and some even had titles for their band. For the sake of bookkeeping, how will WE want to be addressed?" He looks expectantly at the small group, before coming to a little sudden realization "Oh, no need for an answer this very night.. just something to think about... maybe we could all come up with a few... of course the representative would best be versed in courtly ettiquette.. we can discuss it on the road... I just wanted to... mention it." He goes back to discussing it with himself.
Davor nods to Holbrechtas he mentions the ease of travel and the advantage of travelling after a full day's rest.
"Yes, it would be a waste to travel only a short distance and waste supplies." he nods and then looks to the suggestion of a play and shakes his head. "I have no interest in plays. I will simply spend the rest of the waking hour exorsizing and streaching my muscles, preparing for tomorrow."
"Shall we meet at the southern gate?" with that he makes sure to rise and head to a room he's already booked for the night.
Don't worry Davor I will be at the south gate in the morning I am committed to our endeavor. I only wish to say my farewells to family and friends since it may be some time before I am able to see them again. looking to Caelius I would love to take you up on the offer Caelius but I must beg off this time. Maybe when next we are in the city my friend. My ma would stalk me to the wilds and thrash me for her trouble if I left with out saying goodbye. Ragnor waves to everyone Morning at the south gate, See you all than. Ragnor leaves the hall and heads to his families home.
Tarith laughs loudly at the mention of culture.
Tell you what. If I join you for some culture, will you join me for some drinking after?
Despite his seeming disdain for the idea, Tarith would actually enjoy a good theatrical performance, and this will come across in his voice and expressions.
Well then Tarith it looks like we will drink deep the delights of fair city. Anyone else coming along?" Caelius raises an eyebrow in the direction of Agnatha.
"I fear that the presence of a lady of my social standing, no matter how much I try to conceal it, would ruin your carousing plans. My comfortable bed calls to me, gentlemen. Unless one of you would volunteer to steal it and carry it to the Stolen Lands for me?"
"I fear that the presence of a lady of my social standing, no matter how much I try to conceal it, would ruin your carousing plans. My comfortable bed calls to me, gentlemen. Unless one of you would volunteer to steal it and carry it to the Stolen Lands for me?"
Then rest well good lady. We will meet again at the south gate.
Well Tarith we walk alone tonight. Let us see what Restov kand offer the restless!
Ragnor enjoys the time with family sleeping in his old bed for the night before starting early in the morning a good home cooked breakfast in his belly. Leaving Ragnor and his mule waiting at the south gate.
Arriving at the southern gate a little after sunrise, Agnatha, Holbrecht, and Ragnor are surprised to see Davor standing there, arms akimbo, waiting as if he has been there since before the break of dawn. Almost an hour later Caelius and Tarith arrive at the gate, bleary eyed but ready to travel. Despite the importance of your mission there is no fanfare, no celebration as you quietly depart Restov.
With the thoughts of your investiture banquet and a warm bed now a distant memory you continue to trudge, for over a week now, through the muddy path sometimes known as the South Rostland Road. With mud stained clothes and boots you come over a small hillock and see before you an old wooden fort, its gates open wide. As you approach the gates your eyes are drawn to a man, hammering away at the roof of a building inside the wooden walls.
As the man notices your approach, he yells something unintelligible to someone unseen in the courtyard as he hurries down from the roof and disappears into the yard.