Travelers heading to Caliphas seek a group of adventurers of able body and steadfast mind to accompany them onward from Grayce. See the innkeeper, Jakivi Rindix, for more details.
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A fair-skinned female half-elf, with long red hair under a tricorn hat, enters the inn. She wears a black sailor’s outfit, and has a dagger and hand crossbow at her hip. Walking up to the barkeep, she doffs her hat.
“Good day t’ye”, she says. ”Black Molly’s the name. Would you be the innkeeper of this fine establishment?”
The young woman turns from her brother abruptly and smiles when she sees a familiar face.
Black Molly! Good to work with you again! Where's the Captain today?
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A disheveled Mwangi man wearing a wrinkled white robe approaches. His robes are a little dingy and seem to have burn marks near the cuffs. He's carry what seems less like a book and more like a loose collection of pages barely bound together. The only thing neat about his appearance is his close cut hair and freshly shaved face.
"I hope I'm not too late! I was reading this fascinating book on local spider breeds when I thought I saw one of the listed spiders!"
He begins to pull one of the pages from his book to show everyone.
I started observing it and taking notes and time simply got away from me I apologize. Oh, where are my manners! I am Mopti and it is a pleasure to make everyone's acquaintance," he says with a slight bow that causes pages to fall out of his book.
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A dreamy elf enters the inn, the tavern is anticipated to be crowded. Having seen the bounty post, he quickly looks for the certain Jakivi Rindix 'til he is pointed into the certain place. He looks for the innkeeper and politely introduces himself. "Good day," he tells the innkeeper with a bow. "I am Vamir and I am interested to join and accompany the travelers toward their destination."
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The young woman turns from her brother abruptly and smiles when she sees a familiar face.
Black Molly! Good to work with you again! Where's the Captain today?
”Ah, the fair Lidya!”, Molly beams. He nods at her brother. ”Morthos”
Turning back to the lady, she adds, ”He’s belowdecks; I like to keep a low profile, as I’m sure you understand. He’ll be tickled to know you asked about him!”
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Buford, a big, tall and round half-orc in soup-stained clothing, takes note of these adventurers. "Howdy, howdy, name's Buford Oxcatcher. We're near my normal stomping grounds, but o'course we're on the wrong side of the Gravelands. I'm hoping y'all have got ways of hurtin' undead. This here Ustalavic land's a mite spooky compared to my native lands of Nirmathas."
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"Achurius, at your service. Undead, you say? Well I am a cleric so that should not be an issue, as long as we are not facing an Lich or something. I can handle a few skellies or zombs."
A decent sense motive check should allow anyone to tell that he is trying to sounds knowledgeable, confident, and competent in spite of his lack of experience.
He is a middle aged elf, though, as with most elves, that is not immediately apparent.
He is dressed in worn and comfortable clothes and about the only weapon you can see is a staff with the emblem of Nethys on the head of it.
"Mister, actually," says the tall human, a Kellid man, behind the counter. "What can I get for you? I'm not directly involved in the job, but they asked me to make arrangements for them. Merchants getting a caravan ready move around a lot, after all."
While he's preparing any requested drinks or food, Jakivi explains. "There have been some recent attacks on supply caravans traveling between Grayce and Caliphas--the port city. As such, the drivers of the caravan scheduled to leave this afternoon want to hire some extra protection. If you're traveling that way anyway, it's certainly a good offer. In addition to a hefty bounty upon their safe arrival in Caliphas, all meals for the three-day journey will be provided. Are you all interested in the job?"
"Well, uh... let's see," says Jakivi as he moves to get the drinks, "I guess I don't know much about what they were carrying. It was a caravan, you know--whole bunch of merchants traveling together--so I suppose it was all kinds of things. I don't think it was related, though, since---uh, since..."
He slides the drinks over and lowers his voice, nervously fiddling with a coin bearing the holy symbol of Iomedae. "Rumor says undead soldiers ambushed a similar caravan less than a weak ago. I think that's why they need extra guarding. You all seem more capable than the guards they had, though." His eyes focus on Lydia in particular. "Got spirits of your own, an' all." He looks worried nonetheless.
Vamir knows that dense fog often blankets the roads in southern Ustalav, making it hard to see who else may be lurking nearby. Both skeletons and zombies are known to wander the border roads, patrolling on behalf of the Whispering Tyrant and attacking any travelers they come across.
In particular he's aware of squads of undead soldiers from the armies that patrol the countryside. They fight with one goal—to kill any living creature they come across—and only stop fighting when destroyed.
"Anything else?" asks Jakivi, "They'll be getting their wagons ready to take off by the stables at the edge of town. Safe travels!"
[ooc]That's a critical success for Vamir, so he's completely confident in the information.
Pressing Jakivi for more information means your party is more aware of specific dangers, which will grant an additional benefit later.
Since you're forewarned about the kinds of creatures you may face, anyone who wants to Recall Knowledge about skeletons or zombies is free to do so--just post your Religion (or other relevant) bonus.
Lidya looks away self consciously when she's clearly referred to.
I'm nothing like those spirits... I'm basically all here. she offers, sheepishly.
"Ah well," says Jakivi nervously, "zombies're kind of the opposite of spirits, anyway."
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"Undead, you say... Hmmm..." Vamir ponders after sharing to them what he knows about the area: about the fog and skeletons and zombies that may lurk as they go through the place. "We should keep our eyes open and always be vigilant since fog can impede our vision along the way. As for the skeleton and zombies..." he thinks as to what could possible hurt the creatures if they ever get to encounter them.
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Lidya looks away self consciously when she's clearly referred to.
I'm nothing like those spirits... I'm basically all here. she offers, sheepishly.
”She’s not the only one, friend”, Black Molly replies to the innkeeper, ”but he’s not all there” She gives Lidya a wink.
”Cap’n on deck!”, she snaps.
The space beside her wavers. A greenish-blue apparition appears. It looks like a human pirate, with a long gray beard and an eyepatch. One hand holds a cutlass, while the other has been replaced by a shadowy hook. A skull and crossbones appear on his hat, as well as Molly’s.
”Avast, me hearties!”, he proclaims. ”Silverbeard walks again!”
”And look who’s come with us”, she says.
”Ah, the fair Miss Lidya!”, he beams, with a sweeping bow.
”She was wondering when you were gonna show up”, Molly admonishes him. ”Shouldn’t keep a lady waiting like that”
Lidya smiles back at Molly and the Captain, but when others start to point her out she shrinks behind her brother (who doesn't seem to notice).
The group knows some basic things about undead. Powered by negative energy--so called because it is exactly the opposite of life-giving positive energy--they're often instinctively drawn to destroy living things, even though some of them are essentially mindless.
Nobody seems to have much useful information about zombies. Achurius knows that while they can be pretty tough, they tend to be vulnerable to being hacked apart as their flesh decays. He's vaguely aware that there are different types, but doesn't know much about them.
The group collectively knows much more about skeletons. Light but brittle, they're resistant to slashing and piercing weapons as they lack flesh to puncture or cut. They're also resistant to some kinds of energy--between the party, it's known that they're resistant to cold, electricity, and fire.
Achurius recognizes that Lidya and Silverbeard aren't undead, exactly, but something rarer: Phantoms bound to the life force of living people, in a relationship that's generally mutually beneficial. Despite their presumed deaths, the phantoms are still alive in a way, and able to remain in the living world. The people linked to them are empowered magically. They're probably tougher for it, too, though any injury to the phantoms can take that back out of them.
Jakivi waves off any attempt at payment ("They paid me when they asked me to recruit you, it's covered."), and the party finds the stables easily enough. It's hard to miss the eclectic group of travelers gathering there.
Two half-orcs joke with one another as they load supplies into two wagons, each with a team of jet-black horses. The half-orcs are nearly
identical down to the stripes on their shirts, though one has her long black hair gathered into a ponytail and the other keeps his cropped short. The sister waves. "Morning! I'm Andri Graghol, and this is my brother Arek--we're the drivers. You the ones Jakivi sent to guard the caravan?"
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Morthos figures he should take the social initiative for once over his sister and nods at the half-orcs in response to their greeting.
Indeed, we are the "brute squad," as it were, to accompany your caravan on its journey. We've been briefed on the recent attacks by undead and are equipped to handle it. I'm Morthos, this is my sister Lydia.
He gestures toward her before introducing the rest of the party.
In addition to the drivers and goods, the caravan has three passengers. As the group prepares to leave, they introduce themselves in turn and climb into the coaches. First is Xanthus Shurgun, a half-orc in flowing academic robes indicative of his status as a faculty member at the University of Lepidstadt. He shares that he is traveling to Caliphas by way of the countryside so that he can better understand the agricultural conditions along the border of the Gravelands. Behind him is Eigil Jorgund, a stocky dwarf who tells you that he’s a farmer heading into Caliphas to establish relations with marketplace vendors, many of whom have lost business due to the perilous roads. Last is Kisaya Sitari, a tall Varisian woman dressed in a colorful patchwork skirt, its pattern seeming to have no beginning or end. She tells you that she’s a seamstress traveling to Caliphas in search of new fabrics and colors to improve her selection of adornments.
"Eh, not recently," says Andri to Black Molly's question.
"And not with any trouble," adds Arek, "so the news of the recent attack is troubling. It's not something we've dealt with before."
"If you need any supplies, or have any other preparations," says Andri as she finishes loading the cargo into one of the wagons, "now's the time. We'll be ready to leave shortly."
"I think we've got some tent space, yeah," says Andri, "though if you don't want to share you'll have to bring your own."
Before long, the caravan is on its way.
The first day passes largely uneventfully, and the travelers are happy to converse as they journey through the forest. As the sun starts to set, the drivers pull into a clearing to make camp for the night. As the members of the caravan begin cooking the evening meal and setting up camp, an argument arises between Xanthus the scholar and the farmer Eigil over which is more important: the knowledge of how to cultivate crops, or the physical skills of planting and harvesting. The argument starts good-naturedly but quickly heats up as each begins to feel that the other is dismissing the importance of their contributions.
The two of them become increasingly heated as their argument continues to escalate.
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Morthos clears his throat and speaks up.
I don't think either of you really intended to dismiss the others' contributions from the outset. In the end I think you agree that both skillsets are needed, and in the end of life many more.
He leans on his staff behind the circle of those immediately seated around the campfire. His demeanor is very unassuming and somewhat passive.
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Achurius loves a good debate and follow it closely, but is a bit disappointed when the parties start getting incensed. Unable to resist, he puts in his own two coppers.
"Indeed, if it weren't for the knowledge that is passed down from generation to generation, crops and animals would die. Consider, for a moment, what a single parasitical blight can do if you do not respond the right way. But knowledge without action is wasted and, to be honest, there is a great deal of learning and expertise developed by just doing."
He visibly gains momentum as he talks, becoming animated, his arms gyrating in punctuation to his points. "There is a reason we are all minds and bodies, and neither should be neglected. Just as the mind and body is a team on a personal level, it should also be so on a cultural level, don't you think?"
"Yeah!" says Eigil, "the knowledge of experienced farmers is exactly what matters!"
"But that's exactly what my research is about, collective experience and knowledge! I'm not just saying I'm more knowledgeable, although my work analyzing the most effective trends..."
"If they keep that up," mutters Arek to nobody in particular, "the noise might attract attention..."
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Vamir listens quietly at the heated arguments between them. He ponders what indeed is better between the two. "I believe to truly utilize the soil for planting, one must have ample knowledge on how to do planting. In that way, it would not be wasteful to make a trial and error to do such activity. Soil fertility, water abundance and other factors are to be considered, that is what it requires knowledge, and not just you just plant plants. he chimes into the conversation.
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”Y’know, plantin’ crops is like buryin’ bodies”, Black Molly says casually. ”There’s your theory, like sand vs soil, and there’s your effort, usually at swordpoint. But you folks carryin’ on is gonna bring every hungry fang within a mile o’ here”
She smirks ruefully. ”Never seen anyone in such a hurry to dig their own graves”
Mopti further argues the academics' position.
Eigil nods along with Buford's argument, but Xanthus merely looks sour. Both seem somewhat confused by Molly's metaphor, and largely ignore it.
Despite the others' best efforts the noisy argument continues for several minutes before both stomp off in different directions.
Despite Arek and Black Molly's dire proclamations, there is no immediate consequence.
Before long, the glow of sunset is visible and the caravan reaches a clearing that has obviously been used as a campsite before. "This is our stop. First day not too bad, yeah?"
"We still need to worry about the first night, though," his sister answers, before turning to the caravan guards. "What are your plans for taking watch? Don't deliberate too long, for the sake of a good rest. The earlier we can make camp, get our meal ready, and get to sleep, the earlier we can get going again in the morning."