Gathien shakes himself out of his funk and forces a chuckle, "I may need you to convince the giant to lean forward, first, Ser Lightbringer... Would you settle for hamstringing and crushing his kneecaps?
Kragath seems pleased with the return of the halfling's wit. "Bring it down to size however you must, friend."
Kragath looks over the rest of the party as they gather their things. Ingle appears a bit nervous of that mare. It seemed the calmest of the herd, I actually thought it might have fallen back to sleep for a moment there. Has he had no experience in traveling at all? I should probably allow him to drive the cart...if he can.
Kragath climbs back down off the cart, and approaches Ingle. "Ingle, my friend. Perhaps you would prefer to drive the cart. It is a much easier ride, and I would like to get to know the horse that I will be traveling such a distance with." Kragath gestures to the cart.
Everyone else appears ready to begin.
Kragath climbs up on his horse, and places his backpack into a secure place within the cart. He then rides over to Jonas. "They appear ready and excited, Ser Medvyed. Something seems to be troubling Gathien, and Ingle does not appear to have any horsemanship experience, I can't quite get a read on Peregrine yet though."
Ingle strolls over to the mare, attempting to appear as casual as possible under the circumstances. From the corner of his eye he watches a few of the others as they mount. That should be the only truly tricky part of the whole affair, I should think.
"Hello there...um.... big fella," he says, tentatively touching the animals mane. "It's poorly lot in life, carting people about, I imagine, but I'm hoping you'll not make much of a fuss about it. I'm not overly keen on the idea myself, if you must know." The animal seemed entirely indifferent to the half-elf's words. "Very well, then," he continues, resignedly. "Up I go."
Ingle put a foot in the stirrup, pausing for a moment before realizing that his right foot wouldn't work at all. He was just switching feet when Kragath approached. "The cart? Ah, well. I suppose I could be persuaded, seeing, as you say, that you would rather make your creature's acquaintanceship. I was looking forward to riding this fine beast a bit, of course, but it seems we've already established an equitable relationship. Who am I to deny you the same privilege?"
Looking a little more than relieved, Ingle loads his excess gear onto the cart and climbs into the seat. Casting a look at the halfling, the alchemist smiles weekly. "Someone has to drive the cart, you know."
Jonas takes a moment to introduce himself to Kragath's father. It is a pleasure my lord.
As Kragath catches him up with the others' preparations, he nods in agreement. It seems they are ready. I'm sure Ingle will develop the necessary horsemanship skills as we go. It seems assured that all of us will be required to learn new skills to be successful in our endeavor. I know my abilities will be sorely pressed. And I agree that Peregrine is not the most easy man to gauge. He glances over at the halfling. If given the opportunity, I will take a moment with Gathien. He is not as simple as he seems. I'm sure you have noted that he is used to being seen as just a small man with a big axe.
Peregrine politely greeted the Swordlord in proper fashion, exchanged a few words, and then excused himself to prepare to set out. Seeing the choice of mount had been more or less made for him, he approached the dappled grey gelding that remained. Peregrine took his time with the beast, gave it a minute to get used to him before doing anything else. Then he carefully lashed his gear to the horse's saddle, doubled checked to make sure everything was secure, and mounted in a manner, that while lacking practiced ease, suggested he had been on a horse before and probably wouldn't be killed by the beast between the inn and the trading post.
Peregrine directed the horse toward Kragath and Jonas, he sat a little stiffly in the saddle, but otherwise seemed to be doing okay. He nodded as he approached. "Ser Lightbringer. Ser Medvyed. I must admit I have grown quite eager to see the what we will be dealing with. Are we nearly ready to depart?"
Kragath listens to Jonas' comments on their companions, agreeing with every word the man said. "Yes, it would be good if you did. I have tried to raise his spirits some, but I can tell there is something further troubling him."
As Peregrine approached, Kragath bows his head to him when addressed. "Yes, Peregrine, I think we are indeed."
Kragath looked back towards the group that the Lordship of Restov had chosen to send South on this mission. While partly, he wanted to make sure once again that everyone was ready, in truth, he wanted to take one final look at his birthplace. For better or worse, Restov, I will return one day.
Kragath then waved a final farewell to his father, and then reigned his horse around, and headed out of the city towards the Trading Post.
Although Ingle's experience driving a cart was as limited as his skill in riding, he had at least ridden in his fair share. And he felt confident that, barring anything unusual, he had seen enough to pick up the concept. Making a clicking sound with his tongue, the half-elf shook the reins slightly as he had seen done hundreds of times. To his satisfaction the heavy horse began to move, though that first small lunge set the tall half-elf teetering on the bench. Recovering quickly, he smiled as confidently as he could manage at those watching.
He didn't spare a look behind, as there was no one that he was leaving here in Restov. He had made the journey here alone (well, in the company of traders, strangers to him, anyway) and they had certainly not come to see him off. Indeed, all that he would miss of this city was that fine feather bed and the hot meals that the Inn had provided.
Testing his control somewhat, Ingle tugged the reins lightly one way and then another. The beast in the harness responded languidly but predictably. "Nothing to worry about, dear chap. Nothing at all." Whether he was speaking to the horse or to himself wasn't entirely clear.
But after a while he began to hum softly to himself.
Gathien looks around, and takes a few steps with his pony. Another activity father wouldn't approve of. Surely I should be able to summon some beast... or fly overland...or just appear where I need to be... Before the dark thoughts claim him, however, he notices Ingle's trouble with his mount and the decision to have him drive the cart, instead. If nothing else, the clown's antics should keep my spirits up.
As Ingle shifts to the wagon, Gathien says with an even tone, "An excellent call. Now the jingle of the alchemist's bottles will be drowned out by the buckles on the horses tack."
He then shifts his pony into the proper place in the line, and follows Kragath out into the unknown.
Farewell, Restov... The first place I was finally allowed to be myself.
Chuckling softly, Krovax gauged his son with a smile as the question was asked. There was pride in his eyes - and pity. "I fear for the day you grow up," he said. His voice was solemn. "You will find that many a thought can break mountains."
There was a bit of silence before Krovax carried on. "Oleg's trading post is a day's ride from here, south-east. I know not much. It was a military fort years ago. Oleg and his wife has lived there for some time, restoring it to be habitable."
As the rest of you step out into the chill morning air, Krovax greets you all by name. While courteous enough, he doesn't indulge in small-talk. You felt his eyes on you as you picked your horses - or pony, for the halfling. When the time came for you all to leave Restov, he did like his son and waved. He made for an impressive memory as you passed through the gates, with one hand firmly resting on the hilt of his blade.
The sight of the Brevan plains is simplistic. Great pines and oaks decorate the hills, carpeted with the green of grass. Flowers are budding along the roads, in yellow and white and blue. The sun slowly stretches out across the morning sky, in all its glory. Sweat starts to form on your collars and your forehead as the hours pass, dawn turning into day.
As Kragath rides along the plains of Brevan, he occasionally tests his horse with short sprints and how well it handles in taking turns. He seems to handle well. I'll have to come up with a name for him soon, I suppose.
Kragath stops atop a hill roughly 50 meters ahead of the rest of the group after having sprinted to it's top. He looks back onto his companions, and then back in the direction in which they are traveling. He pulls the hood of his cloak back so that the wind can cool his face now that the sun has decided to share it's warmth. I hope this sixth individual joining us will not cause any problems for us. So far, the group seems to get along well enough. Well, at least Gathien hasn't drowned Ingle in his own potions. Yet...
Kragath chuckles at the image of the halfling throttling the lanky half-elf and force feeding him the various vials of fluid the man has on his person, and then rides back down to the rest of the column.
As Gathien rides, he tries to keep his wits about him, sweeping his gaze across the plains.
I don't expect anything untoward to happen here, but then, isn't that usually when something does? Besides, I need to develop the habit of keeping alert in the saddle -- not everywhere we ride into will be so pleasant..
Gathien is surprised at the thought that he's enjoying the ride. ...especially after the sense of doom and foreboding we all had last night. Apparently our concerns and fears may have gotten the better of us... Still, one would have to be a bigger fool than the Alchemist to assume that this expedition will remain so pleasant... He feels the that familiar sense of doubt rising, but pushes it away ...so best enjoy it while I can..
It took Ingle about an hour to realize that the horse pulling the wagon was going to keep to the road regardless of the half-elf's attempts at guiding it through the turns. Within another half hour the alchemist had his feet propped up on the buckboard, reclining as best he could, and was watching the scenery pass with a serene look upon his face. Occasionally, on the straighter stretches, he would read from a small leather book he had pulled from his pack. "I say," he said playfully to Jonas as he rode nearby at one point, "This 'adventuring' is a bit of all right so far."
The day was warming up, and that suited him fine, though he hadn't minded the morning chill to any real degree. Growing up with the frigid winds blowing off of Winterbreak Bay had granted him an indifference to the cold. But as the sun rose to noon and past, his mind turned to thoughts of food. He peers around at the back of the cart, wondering if he could manage to get to his pack and retrieve a bit of smoked beef without stopping the cart. Precarious at best, he thought, spying his pack near the rear of the cart.
"Riding straight through, are we?" he asks the group in general.
This part is rather pleasant. Jonas says with a smile. He reaches down and pats Maelstrom on the neck and says loudly so Kragath can hear. The horses could probably use a drink and a bit of rest. Are you opposed to a short stop for lunch Ser Lightbringer?
Hearing his name called out, Kragath turns and rides back around to ride on the other side of Jonas near the cart. "My pardon, Ser Medvyed?" Upon receiving clarification as to what had been said to him, Kragath looks to the sun's position in the sky, and then to the horses. "Yes, the horses probably could use a short rest. And I, for one, could go for stretching my legs a bit."
Kragath dismounts, and pulls his shield from his back. He walks round to the front of his horse, pulling out his waterskin as he does so. He takes a few small sips for himself, and then pours some into the concave part of his shield, and holds it to allow his horse to drink.
Kragath then walks round a bit, after retrieving a bit of jerky from the party supply, eating and stretching out the stiffness in his body as he does.
Gathien nods at the idea of stopping, "Indeed, I am not accustomed to riding for so long and would welcome the rest." He then adds, dryly, "Though I would hate for our break to interrupt Ingle's reading." He then directs a pointed look at the expedition leaders.
If we're about to ride into danger, perhaps we could all take it seriously?
He then dismounts, and brushes the nose of his pony and offers it some water from his cupped hand. Well, considering how much time we're going to spend together, I suppose you'll need a name... And not something pretentious like Thunderhoof or Warstrike or whatever it is longshanks like to call their horses... How about Raenar? A good, solid name...
When the horse finishes drinking, Gathien follows Kragath's lead and takes a few strips of meat from the cart. He takes a few bites to take the edge off his hunger and then places the remainder in his pouch to eat on the road. He asks, "Are we making good time? Does anyone know?"
Kragath turns to Gathien's inquiry, "Father stated that Oleg's was a days travel southeast along this road. We should be roughly a third of the way there by now, wouldn't you agree Jonas?"
Looking around, Kragath suddenly realizes that this is the furthest south he had ever been. I suppose play time has ended. Gathien is right, we need to be more alert.
As he finishes the strip of jerky, Kragath turns to his companions. "Gentlemen, we need to be alert now. The sovereignty of Rostland cannot protect us here. Out here, our safety relies on our senses and training. We all have heard of the banditry in the Greenbelt of late, let's not give them an easy target."
Gathien nods gravely at Kragath's statement, and says evenly, "Indeed, Ser Lightbringer. I would imagine it likely that any such bandits would attack the wagon first", pausing slightly for emphasis with a twinkle in his eye, "as it is loaded down with supplies that they likely need as much as we do."
That should make our lazy friend wake up... and hopefully squirm a little as well...
Ingle reins in the horse with a gentle tug. Listening to the exchange between the barbarian and the paladin, he can't hide his amusement. "First of all," he says, climbing down from the wagon on stiff legs, "my studies are rather important. Some of these concoctions are quite volatile you know. A little too much of this, not enough of that, etcetera etcetera, and the whole camp goes up in wonderfully fiery... well, fire."
Pulling his pack from the cart, he continues, "But have no fear, because second of all, I shall keep both eyes peeled for these hooligans you speak of henceforth. Eyesight like an eagle." He removes a bit of jerky from his bag and adds, "Like a hawk."
With that in hand he returns his pack (nearer the driver's seat this time) and takes one of the waterskins around to the horse. Seeing the halfling using his hand to supply the beast, Ingle follows suit.
"Like a tawny owl," he adds, after a time, speaking mostly to himself. He seems to consider this for a moment. "Not like the tawny owl at all, actually... Which is to say, very much like that, but without their keen hearing... "
Jonas dismounts and sees to watering Maelstom. We have been making fair time, and are probably a little more than a third of the way there.
As he is rubbing Maelstom's legs and checking his hooves, Jonas grins at Ingle's pratter. I'd say rather like a duck. Very aware and webbed toes.
Kragath, Ingle, Gathien, Peregrine & Jonas
As you find yourself on the road again, time seems to pass by faster. The plains of south-eastern Brevoy stretch endlessly, it seems, though the sight is none-the-less one of marvel. After an hour, a forest joins the road and covers a magnificent distance of the land on the right-hand side; after three, the end of the great woods is at hand.
Rorgrym
Svetlana knows how to cook; even if it's only you, her and her husband Oleg at the trading post, she didn't pull the stops for the meal. A well-roasted turkey, stuffed with onion and peppers, and glazed with oils and herbs is accompanied with boiled potatoes and a mushroom stew. "Eat up," she says, almost a command, as you settle behind the table.
The room isn't particularly big, but well-suited for three. You supply yourself with a slice of the turkey when Oleg joins you. He is clutching a missive in his hand, one sealed with a familiar stamp. A couple of white feathers are ruffled into his half-balding scalp. "Got a letter for yeh," he says, handing it to you.
My son and his entourage of adventurers left Restov this morning. Expect them come nightfall. I trust in you to perform your duty, as we discussed. Give an old man some comfort, and protect my son from the wilds - and from himself.
By your honour, and mine,
Krovax Lightbringer,
Swordlord of Restov.
As the group continues on, Kragath remains much closer to the cart, but maintains a position out in front, in case there are any signs of trouble. He tries to keep a much more wary eye on his surroundings as well.
When things seem calm, Kragath looks to Jonas. "I think we ought to ride on in to Oleg's tonight. Father said it used to be a military fort, and as such would be safer than under the pavilion in the open. Your thoughts?"
Gathien laughs at Jonas' joke... It seems I'm not the only one who thinks the Alchemist a bird-brain... He widens his eyes and in as innocent a tone as he can manage, asks "Are you calling Ingle a quack, Ser Jonas?
After stretching and seeing the rest called, he mounts up again ...definitely a Raenar... seems to suit him well... As they travel, he will occasionally nibble away at another small piece of the dried meat he grabbed earlier.
He will keep an eye on his surroundings as they ride, especially as the road meets the woods... Those trees could provide cover for bandits...
Ingle peers first at Jonas and then at the halfling. "It's a little know fact that ducks have quite exceptional vision. What they do with it is beyond me; rather hard to miss a lake, one would assume. But none the less." Despite the retort, the half-elf doesn't seem particularly upset at the ribbing.
Finishing his quick lunch he prepares the cart for the afternoon leg of the journey. Mounting up he points into the distance beyond Gathien. "I believe I've spotted a bandit, my good fellows," he says, raising a hand to shade his eyes. "He's quite distant. A mile or more. I can barely make him out." Flopping down onto the bench and gathering the reins, he adds with a wry grin, "My mistake. It's just Gathien." And then, after a moment more, "Standing right there..."
With a snicking sound, he jiggles the reins to move on. And true to his word, he kept his gaze on the surroundings as much as possible.
Rorgrym reads the letter quickly, grunts once, and the throws it in the fire making sure that it does, in fact, land in the flames and burn.
After eating a hearty portion, Rorgrym will make an exaggerated effort at standing. "Once again, an excellent meal," he says while patting his stomach. "I am humbled to be in the presence of the future goddess of cooking." He'll stay and chat if the couple is so inclined, otherwise he'll go out to stretch his legs a bit.
When the sun starts to set, Rogrym will make his way to the trading post gate and wait. He is wearing casual clothes, his armor and gear are back in the room though his is wearing a tabard with Hanspur's symbol on it (a rat walking on water).
"I wonder if all this trouble is really necessary. Perhaps his faith in the selection process...well, pointless to fuss over it now."
Gathien smiles, "Fear not, Ingle. I was not serious when I suggested rolling you in an alley at dinner last night.... Though I do wonder about your depth perception and hope you need never throw one of your precious potions."
Peregrine spent most of the morning riding in silence, pondering the various strategies for approaching the problem of the Greenbelt. When they finally stopped to rest he was glad of it, not being a frequent rider. Still he did not give voice to any complaints, and simply enjoyed the opportunity to stretch his legs.
As he moved about his gaze drifted skyward and he remembered the crimson that had painted the sky that very morning. A part of him hoped it would simply storm and have done with it, that there wasn't some greater meaning given the timing. Shaking his head, he tried to push aside the thought. Uncle had always warned him that divination by omen was incredibly inaccurate because it was so very difficult to distinguish between an actual portent and mere happenstance, and that before you even got to determining the meaning. Nothing could be done about it anyway, except to be sharp and ready for what lie ahead. He nodded to himself, satisfied with that and went to the cart to retrieve a small snack before they got back on the road.
He picked at the bit of rations Peregrine listened to the others banter with a vaguely humorless expression on his face. They certainly seemed fond of making jokes, Gathion and Ingle especially. Uncle pointed out on more than one occasion that humor was a distraction, something you turned to to get away from something else. Peregrine frowned as debated the truth of that.
As the other prepared to set off again, he remounted his dappled grey gelding followed them back onto the road.
Jonas grins at Gathien, I would not dare call the man a quack. I was merely admiring the many positive qualities of the duck. I would not choose to insult a man who has proven to have such a quick wit. The better part of valor is choosing your opponents well.
To Kragath I agree, pushing on seems to be the better course. I also was under the impression that Oleg's is fortified. I also doubt bandits would choose to attack one of the few places near them where they can trade.
Kragath nods to Jonas' response. He then moves his horse alongside of Peregrine, "How has the road treated you, Ser Mage?"
Peregrine glanced toward Kragath. "Well enough, I suppose." Leaning back in his saddle a little he went on. "Besides, given the enormity of the task that lies ahead of us, I suspect in the near future nothing that lies on the road behind us today will merit any complaint at all."
"And what of you? Has everything been to your liking today?"
Kragath looks around, and towards the sun that would soon set over the hills of the edge of the Greenbelt. "I certainly have nothing to complain of. It has been a peaceful ride, thus far. Any thoughts on the mission?"
I really need to come up with a name for this horse...Simaron...yes...yes I think I like that. Simaron.
Ingle gives the halfling a look, nodding toward Jonas. "You should listen to the man, Gathien. He is obviously of superior intellect. Keen observational qualities. And don't you worry about my aim. I always hit what I aim for." He gives the halfling a mock-threatening look, cut short as the cart bumped over a rut in the track, the tall half-elf swaying like a sapling to keep upright. "I say, old boy." - this directed at the horse pulling him along - "Eyes on the road. Eyes on the road." The horse seemed not to care.
"Many, actually. Though I do not think I will burden you with all of them. There are two things, however, I think worth mentioning at this point. The first is a suggestion. It occurs to me that while we have been tasked with exploring the Greenbelt, it is by no means unexplored. We might save ourselves considerable time and effort if we can acquire the services of someone who knows the area well."
Peregrine paused and considered his words before continuing. "The second is something for you to ponder. It seems to me that the charter grants us considerable latitude and power in regards to the law and its enforcement, yet, outside of one very specific clause, is quite vague. So, I am curious, is it your intent to bring Brevish law to the Greenbelt? Or do you perhaps have something else in mind? I ask because I might be able to provide some guidance in this area, my uncle was quite adamant that I learn such things during my apprenticeship."
Kragath becomes very serious when the topic of the law comes up in regards to the task at hand. He thinks about it for a time, then responds, "I think that, while our charter does give us the right to enforce Brevish law here in the Greenbelt, I am not opposed to hearing alternatives. I do not know Ser Medvyed's position on this, however."
Kragath looks ahead at the other three and their banter. "What do you have in mind?"
Gathien nods gravely, "Well, then, at your insistence, I shall indeed listen to him.", with only the slightest twinkle of mischief in his eye.
As the alchemist sways in his seat, Gathien says in an overly concerned tone, "Have care, Duckie. We'd hate to see you break your neck on the first day of our mission."
Gathien will then pull his pony away from the wagon, seeking more serious conversation.
"Honestly, nothing in particular. There seemed to be some squeamishness last night and I merely wish to see where we stand. Are we going to enforce the entirety of Brevish law, or do we pick and choose? While I'm under no illusion that we are in a position to lay down the length and breadth of the legal code, we are tasked with 'striving against unlawful behavior' as it says. If you choose the former, are you prepared to enforce even the ugly bits? And, too much of the latter...it's not Brevish law, is it? But fortunately, as I said, I think we have some leeway here. While it could be read such that Brevish law is implied, it is not explicitly stated. Do you think that is accidental, that the Lord-Regent would sign such a document without knowing that? I don't. It would have been very simple to have written it otherwise. The fact that the document goes out of its way to set in stone the punishment for unrepentant banditry implies a certain expectation of deviation to me. In short, I hope that you will consider that you, that all of us, have considerably more freedom in our mandate than might have seemed immediately apparent. It is an opportunity to do things better."
Peregrine turned in his saddle to see Kragath's reaction to this line of thought.
Kragath looks at Peregrine when he says that "It is an opportunity to do things better," with a look that could only be described as relieved. "You are indeed wise, and I appreciate your honesty. Not many would state to a Paladin that the laws of the land can be improved upon. I, for one, am in agreement. While punishments need to be uniform, they need to match the severity of the crime committed."
Peregrine is truly wise, I will count on his council much in the future, I'm certain.
As the rest of the group gathers together ahead, Ingle gives a harrumph and settles back into his seat. "Duckie," he mumbles, shaking his head. "Why, I never..."
Ingle rides along in silence, catching snatches of the conversation ahead and smiling to himself. Encouraging, he thinks.
Gathien nods to himself as he catches the last of Peregrine's statement and Kragath's response.
I am glad to see that the paladin is not the type to follow blindly... I was worried that the reality of 'frontier justice' might not sit well with one pledged to Abadar... especially one accustomed to the regimented life of the city.... Striving to improve ourselves, and the world around us, is a far higher goal than blind obedience.
Kragath, Ingle, Jonas, Gathien & Peregrine
The trip remains uneventful. The road curves left and right on occasion. Twice a bridge is raised to keep the road levelled as a storm of green hills makes for an inappropriate road. The sun begins its rapid descent to the west when you see what must be a fort in the horizon. Judging by the time of day, it is likely to be Oleg's.
When you arrive, the sun is halfway gone behind the mountains far to the west, and the man who greets you is a dwarf, in simple clothes, and a tabard depicting a rat walking on water. . .
Rorgrym
The sun is dipping beyond the mountain when the entourage of horses (and a pony) arrives at the trading post, and you recognise them all by the vague descriptions you have been given. . .
Kragath rides much of the rest of the journey in silence, thinking on what the Diviner had said. Though the exchange was brief, it was a lot for the young paladin to think about. When the fort comes into view, Kragath returns to a more professional posture in the saddle.
As they ride up to the gates, Kragath will stop his horse and call to the dwarf who meets them. "Greetings, Ser Dwarf. Would this be Oleg's Trading Post? We have traveled from Restov and are to meet someone here."
Kragath will also look over the man's tabard, in an attempt to recognize the symbol he is wearing.
The trek we have made must have tired my mind. The various things Peregrine has had me thinking on couldn't help matters, either. Maybe he belongs to a small house of dwarven nobility that...reveres water?
Seeing signs of the trading post ahead, Gathien starts to look around more carefully. It wouldn't do to let our guard down before we know we're safe...
Seeing no sign of ambush, he rides back to the wagon as Kragath calls to the dwarf. "Look alive, Duckie. I do believe we're here."
Rorgrym is visibly relieved when he sees the party appear on the horizon.
"Good, they're finally here. Not that this is a bad place but it is dull. The couple doesn't seem much for casual chatting."
As the party gets closer he scrutinzes them more intently.
"No mistaking Lightbringer's boy. The other descriptions were pretty vague. Let's see who else the council has deigned to send down."
Rorgrym raises his hand in acknowledgement of Kargath's greeting.
"Greetings, Ser Lightbringer. I'm the one you're here to meet...or the other way around depending on how you look at it. Indeed, it's good to see you; I've been waiting for you a couple of days now and I'm afraid it's gotten rather dull. So...how was the road?"
Rorgrym will actually pay little attention to Kargath's reply and, in fact, barely has spared him a glance at all, instead focusing rather intently on the others; unconcerned with how they might feel about such scrutiny.
Looking at Jonas: "Hmm, seems a solid sort. Is that a House crest he's wearing? Don't know. Blast, I should've looked into the politics of this more before I came down."
Looking at Gathien: "The halfling seems strangely...militant. Odd...or maybe not. Haven't really known many halflings; maybe it's quite common."
Looking at Peregrine: "Looks a bit stern. He's an arcane type or I'll eat my beard. Probably the type who doesn't give anything away unless he chooses to."
Looking at Ingle: "The half-elf seems to be...a half-elf. Interesting outfit he's wearing."
"Diverse bunch, I guess that isn't a surprise really."
"And none too soon," Ingle replies to Gathien, arching his back with an audible pop, seemingly resigned to his new nickname. "I need to see about getting a cushion for this contraption."
As he pulls the wagon to a stop outside, he looks first at the paladin and dwarf, noting the dwarfs scrutiny and offering a weak smile in return, and then to the halfling. "It looks as though leadership of this little expedition has worked itself out. A pecking order, so to speak. I hope our captain's words match their deeds. The farther we get from civilization, the weaker the chains holding back one's... hmm, ambition, say shall we say?.. become."
Climbing down, Ingle stretches his legs gingerly. "Surpassingly bumpy," he says to the dwarf's inquiry, though it was likely not directed at him.
Gathien nods at Ingle's statement, and responds, his voice serious, "Indeed, though I am curious to see how that holds up when faced with adversity..."
Or even if it should... Our leadership was selected based on titles rather than merit or ability... Though, to be fair, the first does not preclude the other... and, so far, they have lived up to their responsibilities.
Gathien continues after the slight pause, as much to himself as to the Alchemist, "Today was pleasant, and so, an easy test to pass. I would hate draw an inference from today that proves harmful, or fatal, later...."
He then lightens his tone slightly and adds, "And, Duckie, a trick I learned from some caravanners - your bedroll makes an excellent cushion."
He then rides forward to greet the Dwarf.
"The road has been pleasant thus far. Allow me to introduce our companions. Ser Jonas, of House Medvyed. Peregrine Fetch, a Mage of Divination. Ingle Farwen, renowned alchemist, and Gathien Toran, a mighty warrior."
Kragath gestures in kind to his frIends as he introduces them. "And, what, may I ask, is your name Ser Dwarf?"
"Ah, an alchemist, so that's it. That explains the attire; I had wondered..."
"Rorgrym Khazhugar, Cleric of Hanspur, at your service. I was sent ahead and instructed to give whatever aid to your group deemed necessary."
Rorgrym waves vaguely back into the trading post.
"Oleg and Svetlana are the operator/owners here and, though they've been polite, they haven't been very chatty with me. If you wish to know what goes on around here...well, to be frank," Rorgrym shrugs, "I can't help you much. I certainly haven't seen much in the way of actual trading going on, not that I have much interest in such. There doesn't seem to be much going on at the moment but, of course, I'm only basing that on the couple of days I've been here."
He pauses briefly, "I assume you'll want to see them immediately?"
Jonas slides off of Maelstrom and walks up to the dwarf with his hand outstretched. Well met Rorgrym and welcome to our group. I am unfamiliar with Hanspur, but I am sure you will remedy that soon enough. He smiles warmly. In any case you are probably right, we should meet our hosts.
Gathien nods and taps a finger to his head in greeting when Kragath introduces him. He looks at the dwarf with interest, A new companion... and one not officially sanctioned - at least not on our Charter.
When the dwarf introduces himself and names his deity, Gathien considers the implications, Did the Swordlords deliberately send someone they can disavow? Will he be taking actions that we cannot as part of the Charter? Is this Hanspur a darker deity?
Remembering his manners, Gathien nods again and says, "Well met."
Kragath climbs down from his horse after making introductions, and stretches his legs after the long ride. "Yes, I think we definitely should meet our hosts. We will handle the business getting you formally added to this expedition later." Kragath then takes Simaron's reigns in his left hand, and extends his right to Rorgrym. He then leads his horse into the trading post and searches for any sign of their hosts.
Hanspur...Hanspur...certainly I have heard of this deity before...
Well met Rorgrym and welcome to our group. I am unfamiliar with Hanspur, but I am sure you will remedy that soon enough. He smiles warmly. In any case you are probably right, we should meet our hosts.
Rorgrym relaxes somewhat at Jonas' open air of friendship.
"If everyone is ready, Oleg and Svetlana should be this way." He'll guide the group on unless someone interrupts.
In the meantime he walks beside Jonas and cheefully talks about his faith."I can do so right now, in fact. Hanspur is the god of Rivers and River Travel. It is not what you might call a "churchy" religion if that makes any sense. Few temples exist to him, I've never seen one myself actually, but shrines to him are common among many major rivers though they're easy to miss if you aren't really looking for them. I have heard of some temples to the west in the...River Kingdoms." No attempt is made to conceal his disdain at the mention of The River Kingdoms.
He looks sideways at the rest of the group and runs his fingers through his beard a little before speaking again. "To those who have had heavy interaction with dwarf culture I assume my choice of god must seem quite odd. The truth is, I was not raised among dwarves and felt my calling while very young. I've been taken to task more than once by a...er, "proper" dwarf for not following a more "acceptable" religion; Torag usually being mentioned at some point."
Rorgrym laughs without any rancor, "To be honest though, none of that bothers me. I'm quite content with the quiet peace I find in my faith. I am excited about this exploration though; I shall be very disappointed if we don't come across at least one decent waterway or river where I can be the first to set up a new shrine."
Rorgrym suddenly looks around with a rather confused look on his face; suddenly realising that they've been standing in front of Oleg's for at least the past five minutes he laughs at himself briefly. Shaking his head he says, Sorry about that. I have had few opportunities to discuss my faith and got a bit carried away there. Hope I didn't bore you. Anyway, Oleg should be inside."
Rorgrym walks up to the door, bangs loudly on it numerous times and practically shouts, "Hoy, Oleg, you still awake in there? The envoys have arrived." He'll then wait for the door to open.