The elf graciosly accepts the knights aid and will reach down to whisper to him in elven
You lead your mounts out of Greyhawk City and down the River Road stopping only near Perryville for lunch. After lunch you continue down the same road until you get past the Thorp of Two Ford. A few miles outside of Two Ford you decide to make camp off the road in a nice clearing Shortnose found.
You take turns pulling guard throughout the night listening to the purchased dogs bark every so often and in the morrow you break camp and continue towards Crossford. Only merchants and pilgrims seem to be your road companions. Rumors abound of lands fallen to the south, armies rising in the north, the powerful mages of Oerth bickering and possibly a risen god living with man in the frozen lands.
You eye some miscreants following you in the woods along your route but the flash of steel by your side persuades them to find softer targets. It will be another two days ride to get to Hardby.
The elf will attempt to get the know the new members of their band, all the while watching out for Thrand and offering suggestions about proper courses of action, if her counsel is asked.
How long is this before the ascendancy of Vecna?
In game historical timelines the first time the circle of 8 gets attacked is before the wars by a vecna controlled human and mordenkainen hired some folks to help him thwart Vecna's rise. That occurred in 581. Vecna managed to temporarily kill off 7 of 8 until they could be reconstituted which gave Iuz the opportunity to act to start the wars in 582. Vecna was vanquished in 581 and the Circle of 8 remained silent to the public- due to being restored with their clones by Mordenkainen...until the wars ended. I believe that is how it occured
Thrand smiles warmly as Tanariel whispers in his ear. He does not understand a word of it, but his teenage mind races with possibilities.
He is satisfied when the miscreants think better of attacking their well armed party. "Yeah, you'd better run!" And he is happy to have the dogs on watch.
He thinks about the progress that the party is making and seems fairly pleased with it. "It should be another two days until we get to Hardby. What do you suppose the others are up to?"
Who knows? Knowing the barbarian she is shooting her mouth of at the most inopportune moments or is streaking through the wilderness. replies the grey elf to the knight's query.
Thrand laughs wholeheartedly at Tanariel's speculation about what Victrix might be doing. "I think you may be right about that. So, Tzardüsk, ... am I saying that correctly? How are you enjoying the ride thus far? You had a rough start, but you and Seraph Anchard appear to be getting the hang of it."
Anchard offers up a few words after a yawn, "I don't think our employer has the surest desire for the horde's absolute defeat, but we will surely be in a position to raise the troops to proper action and aid your friends and associates. Hit and run forces suffer unacceptable casualties without a proper force keeping the horde in check. Plenty of opportunity for this to go wrong. I hope the fifty gold was worth it."
Anchard looks back to a shabby looking book he picked up about religions and magic. Though he seems uninterested in the journey and learning about his noble associated, his eyes betray his attitude as they remain alert and easily shift their focus from one matter to another.
"I'm not an experienced rider, and my thighs are aching, but yes, I think I'm getting the hang of this staying in the saddle thing." he says with a smile, that looks almost like a grimace. "And yes, you are saying it close enough.... the orcish language is not an easy one for those who are unused to it."
A bit later, he asks, "We have a long journey and will need to know what we are each capable of. I will begin and hopefully each of you will do the same. I was raised to be a shaman of my people. I can heal some, though that ability may be a bit redundant with Anchard here, it may still come in handy. I can also move people about a little by making tears in reality, rescuing them from bad situations if need be. And I can light people up a bit so they can be seen in the dark." He shrugs... "I can fight a little, but it's not my forte of course"
The elf will respond to the half orc in his language
The knight replies to the shaman, "Do not worry about redundancy. Would that there were more of you. I plan to make good use of your services. I am trained in matters of heraldry and etiquette, religion, and the law. I am practically a lifelong rider, and am able to care for horses and train them for war. I am skilled with lance and sword."
"You speak Orcish well, Ma'am. Your accent is flawless. And you sir sound very formidable as a knight and warrior... My services are yours if you need them, of course."
Anchard sighs, "For the third time in as many days, I am not a healer. How is it every cleric is deemed capable of such miracles when wizards and sorcerors and their demon blood spells have more potent healing powers than Jerome would allow me to channel. Yes I am a cleric, and yes I can pray for healing powers through my divide connection, but know that I will use this wand of healing before I set to applying the fires of my goddess to wounds. She would rather purify absolutey than to rekindle a dying flame." Anchard hardly seems aggitated and doesn't even look up from his reading. "Prejudices should be cast aside when dealing with strangers. For while I am a holy cleric, I am more studied than a warrior and more fire than healer. While I am eager to see what tests lie in wait at our destination, I am still curious why I was chosen to aid the wounded after stating as much already. "
Peering out from his book to address one comment, "There is certainly not any redundancy."
"Perhaps it might have been better if you'd gone with the other group, I can't say, not being a good strategist like my brother. I'm sorry you didn't get your chosen assignment and will try to handle most of the healing tasks, but to be honest, my healing is quite limited... I can heal each person but once per day. After that I only have a couple of healing spells. to spread around."
Thrand says, "Tzardüsk, why don't you keep the wand of healing. It will enhance your natural inclinations and supernatural abilities. Seraph Anchard can find some other way to make himself useful - one more in keeping with his and his goddess's interests. He may have dibs on any fire magic we come across."
He finds Anchard's skeptical comments about the true intentions of their benefactors troubling, but does not know what to make of them. This will require further thought.
Perhaps priest of Jormy, fire might be the appropriate element in the defense of the town we go to offer succor. replies the grey elf.
"Only once and still a few to spread around is more than I might ever hope to have, Tzardüsk. It is more than my attitude that lends my destiny to the road. Were I half as good as you claim at healing, I instead might be lending aid in one of Pelor's churches. But we must do our best with what we have."
"Perhaps you are right Lady Lantherian. Perhaps." Anchard turns to the next page of his book.
Thrand cannot help but stare and smile as Shortnose gnaws so intently on a biscuit that the bald man is oblivious to their conversation.
Returning his attention to the rest of the party, he says, "We have a barrel of lamp oil and some incendiary arrows. I had planned to pour the oil onto a field of our choosing and light it on fire if the enemy is unlucky enough to march through it. If nothing better presents itself, you can have charge of that, Seraph Anchard."
"If you want me to be designated healer, I'd be happy to wield the wand and leave you free to start fires. Your choice."
After two days of uneventful travel the group manages to makes their way to Hardy. The town itself is bustling with life as it is a major economic hub in this area of the Flaneass. You guide your mounts and pack horses towards the dock and after a bit of searching you find a few ships preparing to sail. Two of them seem to be stopping at Port Elredd in short time. The first boat is run by an old human Oeridian sailor who mainly carries grains and foodstuffs between either sides of Woolley Bay stopping at port towns down the coast and ending at Port Elredd. The other vessel is run by a roguish scamp who can take you directly to Port Elredd for a higher price but he will get you there sooner...
"I'd almost rather go with the slower more reliable captain, but I know time is of the essence so that might not be the best option. What do you all think?"
"Time is of the essence," says Thrand. "If the scallywag will get us there faster, then we should go with the scallywag." He looks over the roguish captain's crew and wonders if the party could defeat them should the need arise.
The grey elf will approach the skallywag captain and inquire about his rates for passage.
"Surprised this isn't already taken care of through the extensive list of contacts our employers claim to have. If time is truly of import then the obvious choice is the less reputable captain. Though we may want to inquire with the other captain to see if he would be willing to forgo his slower approach with our missive in mind. I'm sure there is enough money to cover either." Anchard weighs in far and away from any direct association with Tanariel's 'negotiation.'
The big man jumps on his horse and let it be guided by his new allies. He gotta admit. He didn’t miss the others, not with all the mocking and name calling. How dare them to call him a simpleton and pet?
Shortnose would prove them wrong and have his revenge, even more now that Anchard was here as well. Never forgive, never forget. he thinks trying to come up with any prank to payback the earlier situation.
Thinking of nothing interesting, the warrior keeps adjusting himself over his horse. The big man wasn’t used to mount, all his years in the army were spent walking or dragging stuff, not being carried by horses. It’s no surprise that by the end of the first day worth of march, Shortnose isn’t even able to close his legs, his thighs and groin all burnt and hurt from the day of travel.
During the day he wanted to participate in the discussion and felt pity of the youngster being teased by the elf, she-elf, his newest score and target, but all the burning and pain kept him from talking.
Comes the second day, at lunch rest, he doesn’t resist all the pain and burn in his groin and approach the healer in the party. ”Anchy, kinda, gotta all burned and hurt pretty bad here.” he says pointing to his leg and walking around like a crab, showing he can’t even close his legs properly. ”Can’t ye pray for She Goddess and heal this? Gotta admit it’s killing I!”
Getting a healing or not, the travel continues and when they reach the port city, Shortnose tags along the she-elf, just few feet behind; a hulking and silent warrior protecting his charge. His hands never leave the sword hilt and the shield strapped to his arm was a clear message to everyone: If you want trouble, I’ll happily oblige. But he doesn’t say anything, leaving the others to do the negotiation.
It would be sure more effective, in case the big man wasn't walking like a crab, with all the burn on his lower body.
”Got ye covered.” he says, thinking he is doing a good thing.
Earlier
Anchard turns from the fire he started for the camp to look at Shortnose and smiles slyly, "Of course, but only under one condition. You prey with me. Close your eyes and recite the following. Oh Jeromy, the raging volcano, the goddess of fire and anger, grant me your sigil that the burning wound I have may be healed in the purity of your reactionary flame." Anchard draws his iron holy symbol and dangles it over the fire, red flames begin escaping the cracks of his burned ashen arm that holds the holy symbol.
Tanariel approaches (alone?) the man directing other sailors at the Hardby dock identified earlier as Captain Milus Lanig. He is busy directing the loading and cleaning of his boat, the Frothy Mermaid, when the female elf approaches the man. He greets her warmly all the while looking her over with a sly eye.
"Greetings M'Lady. What can I do fer you? The name is Milus Lanig, Captain of the fastest vessel on the WoolBee. Ya looking to book passage?"
--Earlier
The warrior is quick to repeat the words, if they meant curing of the annoying pain. "Oh ye Jemony, the ragin' volcano, goddess o' fire an' anger." he pauses for what he thinks is proper respect "Grant I yer sigil that the burnin' wound me have may be heled in the purity of yer reactionary fire."
--Now
Shortnoses intends to accompany the elf, but he doesn’t say anything and just pose as bodyguard.
With a shy look behind the hood of her cape the elf will coyly introduce herself [b] Greetings Milus Laning. I am Tanariel Lantherian and I do seek passage for my companions and I,and have heard that yours is the fastest and best boat here. [/b[
Thrand watches over the horses and the menfolk while Tanariel takes care of business. He sees Shortnose tailing her and figures the big lug should be enough to keep her safe.
"How many and where to?" the man asks as he walks around her and then eyes Shortnose. His men stop what they are doing to watch the negotiations.
With smile she will state We need to get to Port Elredd, and I heard around town that you are the most able captain here.
diplomacy check, the +1 is for the charming trait. +2 vs. characters who could be attracted to you
"I am the most capable captain around... oh you mean sailing....well that too. Yes I can take you to Port Elredd... just you?"
With a slight giggle, No myself and a few other friends Plus supplies. she says as she appears to admire his physicality
"What kind o supplies...? Anything illegal? How many are ya?"