Gundren has made it known to a few of his friends that he has a valuable cargo that needs escorted to the nearby town of Phandalin. Anyone interested in applying should meet him at the Great Northern Outfitters shop on Old Gnarlybone Road before noon.

Whether you overhead this mentioned in a tavern or on a street corner, or whether you heard it directly from an acquaintance, when you get there, there are two wagons being loaded up with supplies. They are only about a third full.

A Dwarf is carefully checking off a list as each item is placed in a wagon. He even directs which wagon the item should go in. There are picks and shovels, hammers and axes, buckets, baskets, barrels, crates, casks, kegs, and even a few cauldrons and kettles.

Apparently the merchant's daughter is trying to be helpful as she is perched up on the front of the first wagon and admonishes the workers to be careful and where to put the items. It's unclear if they are listening to her or just ignoring her.

When you arrive and express an interest, he holds up a hand in acknowledgement and says he'll be right with you. When there are at least five would-be escorts there, he finally stops what he's doing and addresses you all.

"Hail and well met, sirs and lady! I'm Gundren Rockseeker. I have an enterprise going in Phandalin and need to get these supplies there. I need to depart within the hour to take care of business ahead of time, but I would consider it a great service if you'd escort my charge, Marianna, to Phandalin."

"I've made other arrangements to guard the supplies, but Marianna is far more important than the supplies. I will pay you each 20gp to escort her safely to Phandalin."

"How say you?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:53, Sat 26 July 2014.

Cunaar had need of a trip to Phandalin to investigate an old story about certain wizard by name of Ran Darkskeen. If guarding the lass would get him paid for the trouble of a cart ride, he would happily take that deal.

"Your terms are acceptable," he says.

Maria was not really the lazy, bossy type of person. She actually was a hard working, very thorough child who took on challenges head on. Trouble was she was only 9 years old. The human girl with auburn hair and hazel eyes was willing to pull her weight but as expected, she simply could only be limited to light loads. And try as she might, she sounded more bossy and somewhat off putting than she intended. She wanted to do a good job. Which meant taking care of the cargo and making sure that it was loaded into the wagons properly. She does take the time to thank each and every one of them gratefully and is at least polite and respectful as she can be.

Walking up to and beside Gundren, the girl greets the newcomers with a genuine smile and a courteous nod. She is carrying two backpacks, one on her back and one on her arms. There is a corner of a book jutting out of the backpack she is carrying and she notices it. So she opens the backpack, after setting it down and pulls out a leather bound tome with the engraving of a teddy bear on it. Although it is much too big to be a children's book. For that matter it has too many pages. If one were knowledgeable enough or seen similar types of books, it looked awfully suspiciously like a spellbook. It was the right size for one.

After rearranging the contents in her backpack she places the book gently into it as possible before firmly closing the backpack once more and picking it up.

Tomas had spent the better part of the morning dodging between alleyways in hopes of avoiding Boromar's goons. Heck, even the town-watch would be unwelcome right about now. He needed to lie low for a while, maybe even work his way back into Boromar's good graces. It wasn't really that much money to owe, when you got right down to it. Still, it was something, and right now, he had a little more than nothing. And that wasn't much.

Tomas needed a prospect. Apparently, there was a dwarf in town by the name of Gundren, looking for some hired hands to escort some cargo to Phandalin. A little trip to the country would do Tomas good right about now, especially if it came with the jingle of a few coins. Besides, new prospects and all. Uncharted territory...

No. Concentrate. That's how you got into trouble last time, he thought to himself as he rounded the corner onto Old Gnarlybone Road. Ducking behind a merchant's stall, Tomas checked to see if he had been tailed. Nope.

Satisfied he was in the clear, Tomas approached a wagon where a dwarf and young girl were orchestrating a group of porters as they loaded gear onto the back.

Though he may have been there for a while, he certainly did not exactly draw attention to himself. Plus, he was small. Real small. The kind of halfling one could lose track of, a useful trait to have, in Tomas' line of work!

Hearing Gundren Rockseeker's terms, Tomas replies in a cheerful tone, "Thank you very much, indeed. I agree to your terms good sir!"

The halfling then glances left and right and adds hopefully, "So, when do we leave??"
This message was last edited by the player at 20:30, Sun 27 July 2014.

Maldor made his way across the street to the developing caravan. He had watched the outfitters with curiosity from his place of employment... the Black Scarab... since the Dwarf had began putting the delivery together.

Although tall and broad of shoulder, Mal moved with a gentle ease. He observed the goings on for moments. Was that a child? A child to accompany the wagon?

Humans are strange. At least this one would not have to be pulled off the floor once she had too many mugs of ale.

Mal ran his tongue over his left jutting tooth, feeling the chip near the top. The thinking was over. The yearning for adventure had been strong for weeks. This was his opportunity.

He approached the Dwarf in charge. Mal swallowed, then spoke.

"You need help? Maldor help. Tell me what to do. You want lift? Maldor lift. Maldor strong."

He looked around to see if any of the others were listening. Would they object to a half-orc on the journey? He wasn't one of the full-blooded bandits from the Tower District. He had no yearning to kill for the sake of it. He just wanted to help. To be of use.

And to figure out who he was. Without a past, the amnesiac knew that somewhere out there was the truth to his existence.

Ero walked sullenly to the Great Northern Outfitters shop.  How did it all come to this?  One moment he was a promising young professor of the Amarthachon Academy, the next he's stripped not only of his position but his arcane knowledge as well.  Decades of learning gone.  Doomed by the guilt of association.

And now, Ero Sulaanin, Esteemed Auric Professor, is about to become some minor merchant's lackey.

Ero listens to Gundren Rockseeker's offer.  Twenty gold.  He'd finally have enough to buy a new longbow.  He had to sell his longbow long ago just to survive.  An elf having to sell his longbow.  Shameful.

"Ero Sul -- ahem,"  Ero caught himself.  He doubted anyone had heard of him here, but why take the chance?  "My name is Ero, good sir.  I would be quite honored to accept your magnanimous offer.  Your child will be as safe as a gold piece in a dwarf's purse."
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:55, Tue 29 July 2014.

"Well, Maldor, Ero, and you other two, whoever you are," Gundren responds to those who have shown up, "I accept your service."

"It doesn't look like the wagons will be loaded till the end of the day, so you can leave first thing in the morning. I'm thinking, though, that it might be a good idea if one or two of you guarded the wagons tonight. Will that be okay?"

"I'll be one," Ero replies.  "I can rest in the morning."

Maldor brought in some air into his large lungs, taking in a relieving breath. The gods were smiling on him.

"Maldor will stay tonight with thin one" the half-orc stated to their employer. "Me first go to Orwen and say Maldor be gone for trip. Go get my... my..."

Mal attempted to make a shape with his hands, but had trouble making his thought clear.

"Things. Go get things."

Mal waited for a moment to make sure the dwarf did not object. He turned, then walked back across the street to the Black Scarab. Was that a new step of confidence in his stride? Maldor did not whistle... the gap between his lips was a bit awkward because of his two protruding teeth... but it could be imagined that he was indeed doing so.

[SM, posting there next. :)]

Seeing that the half-orc and elf wizard have already volunteered to stay with the wagons, Tomas doesn't see any overwhelming reason to be the third, when clearly their patron asked for one or two.

"Well then," he states while rubbing his hands together in a hand-washing gesture. "Good on you two for volunteering your services!"

Glancing around nervously, the halfling then states, "Well, I suppose I could tie up a few loose ends before morning comes, at which time, I shall be ready to depart with the rest."

He looks each companion over once more. A curious group, to be sure, he thinks to himself.

They would have a lot of time to chit-chat once they hit the road, and he looked forward to that for sure, but for now, he needed to make himself scarce.

"Right then, I shall see each of on the morrow, bright and early!" and then he bows.

[SM, this one after the trip to the pub]

It had taken Maldor little time to alert his employer at the Black Scarab that he would be going on the dwarf's trip. After picking up his possessions... what little there were... the half-orc had returned to the outfitters.

Mal looked around. He was unsure of what to do next. Work at the tavern was simple. Clean. Fetch supplies. Growl at obnoxious drunks. It was all routine. But what now?

It took little observing to see that Mal was not loaded down with gear. In fact, he seemed to lack gear at all. The hilt of a dagger did come up from his right boot. But no sword? No armor or padding?

This was one poor adventurer. No wonder the offer of 20 gold took such strong attention.

Maldor scratched his head. Should he ask the dwarf what he should be doing? He gave it some thought.

"I'll be seeing to a room, then," Cunaar says, having no intention to spend a night with the wagons when a bed is at hand.

The wagon master's comment about names reminds Cunaar of his lack of social graces, but he does not trouble to amend the oversight. There will be time enough for that later.

He gives Marianna a skeptical look.

"That is a fine spell book you have there. Do you practice the craft as well?"

Maria nods to Gundrenn and gives him a huge hug before he leaves, "Be careful out there okay? You are the only daddy I have left."

She then turns her attention to the others as she mulls over what to do for the rest of the day. Maria did not want to spend all day in her room when she could be visiting the library or wandering about town. Although she needed an escort while doing so. Then Cunaar mentioned her spellbook and she said, "I can cast a few spells. Though only twice a day unless they are Cantrips. Are you a wizard as well? Maybe we could teach each other new spells since we will be travelling together? I am Maria."

The girl approached Cunaar and genuinely offered her hand in greeting.

Cunaar took the girl's hand. If the fact that she was so young and a wizard struck him as odd, he gave no indication.

"Yes, that would be a prudent and mutually beneficial proposal. I do not know if my spell book contains any lore unknown to you, but I would be most willing to share what I know."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:43, Wed 30 July 2014.

Maldor listened about him as he attempted to get bearings on a good beginning.

The two standing nearby, one of them was but a child. Was that incense they smelled of? Better than ale.

It took little time for Mal to be lost in the conversation that he had overheard. The man... was that Common that he spoke? Some of those words were unknown to the half-orc.

Was he the only employee of might to take this journey? Were there still others to arrive?

No worries. The trip to Phandelver shouldn't be that hazardous, should it? Or perhaps it would be. Twenty gold was quite a sum, especially for someone who didn't have a copper piece to his worth.

Mal glanced across the street to the Black Scarab. So close to his recent home, yet a feeling of distance overcame him. He hoped that Orwen would do all right without him.

"Do you have a teacher, girl?" Ero asks the child.  "Magic is not something to be treated like a hobby.  One slip of the tongue or incomplete twist of the wrist can ruin a spell."

"My parents taught me. I can cast spells I know without problem. They don't backfire or blow up in mine or other people's faces if that is what you mean. I would offer you a demonstration but most of my spells do harm and can even kill. I will use them if threatened or to protect others, but I won't use them just to show I can cast them.", Maria responds to Ero. There is a conviction in her voice, like she really meant it. She may be 9 and still young, but one could tell she was not willing to cast her spells needlessly or abuse them flagrantly.

"Are you a wizard too. Maybe you could join us?"

Ero straightens up a bit.  "Yes.  Yes, I am."

Though he is loathe to admit it, Ero realizes he needs these humans.  He needs to rebuild his spellbook.  And if copying spells from others is the fastest option?  It will be like . . . it will be like copying spells from an old copy of his spellbook to a new copy.  He tries to console his ego by reminding himself he had probably researched these spells before.

He pulls a simple brown leather file from his pack.  "What spells do the two of you know?"

"That is the elf way of saying, 'Thank you for your generous offer,'" Cunaar says to Marianna.

Cunaar is always ready and eager learn more. As his master Erdofal used to tell him, "Knowledge belongs to no one person. It is the possession of all who would seek it."

"As for me, my master provided me with the following spells: Identify, Detect Magic, Comprehend Languages, Mage Armor, Magic Missile, and Shield."

"Well, I'm glad that's set," Gundren finishes. "I have hired another group of individuals to guard the wagons while on the road. Remember, your primary function is to guard Marianna. Their function is to guard the wagons."

"Yes, yes, yes, I know they are pretty much the same thing, but this way, if an issue should come up, everyone knows what they should do, though clearly, if Marianna is in danger, the others are likely to come to her aid as well."

"Anyway, the others have agreed to guard the wagons tonight as well, and I told them to report here about supper time. They should finish loading the wagons by then."

"Now, before I leave, do any of you need paid in advance? To buy equipment and such?"

He clearly eyes Maldor speculatively.

Maldor scratched his head. Receiving money before the task is performed? The option had not occurred to him. Would the large dagger slid down his right boot be enough of a weapon, in case of an attack on Marianna? Although fit of form, certainly some basic armoring would be better than Mal's clothing.

Should he raise his hand? Should he clear his throat? The tall half-orc felt awkward, not understanding the proper procedure.

At last he decided to bow to the greater purpose.

"Maldor has some need" he offered. "If of not bad will, would be happy to go to shop to make better guard."

Mal was anxious to not displease his new employer. Would the dwarf be unhappy of offering the money right away?
This message was last edited by the player at 17:02, Sat 02 Aug 2014.

"Very well," Gundren replies to Maldor. "Tough you might be, but I daresay a bit of armor couldn't hurt, or perhaps a sword."

"Maldor, right? I've seen you over at the pub. You are a hard-worker. Here's the 20gp for your service." He hands Maldor the 20gp.

"If you feel you require a bit more, I could, perhaps, see my way to lending you a bit extra."

Almost at the last moment, an armored warrior woman approaches. Though not over tall, her two-handed sword looks rather imposing all on its own.

"I do not need an advance on payment," she manages to say with a humorous lilt in her voice, "but I, too, will take the assignment to protect the Little One. You have too many wizards. You need a strong fighter!"

"No disrespect to you, Maldor, but if a good strong arm is of benefit, then two such arms are even better, right? She slaps Maldor on the back good-naturedly.

Maldor knows of a blind Dwarf armorer named Durthon over in the Works (noisy smelly part of town) that reworks damaged armor. If you don't mind it looking piecemeal (i.e. a piece from here, a piece from there, etc.), you can get most armors for half-price.

Cunaar hears the exchange between the dwarf and the half-orc.

As Marianna and/or Ero head back to the inn to trade spells, he excuses himself.

"I will be with you shortly, Marianna. Oh dear me, have I told you my name. Cunaar Clothar, late apprentice of Erdofal the Diviner. I will gladly trade spells with you after a small errand I need to run."

As he steps away, Cunaar tries to attract Maldor's attention. "May I have a word with you?"

Maldor graciously accepts 20 gold pieces from the dwarf. He felt the weight in his hand. He could not remember what so much money felt like. At the Black Scarab, he did not handle payments. He cleaned the floor. He lifted crates. He growled at unruly patrons. He thanked kind ones. But money?

No. Twenty gold was virtually all the cash in the world to the amnesiac half-orc.

Maldor thought for a moment. Durthon, an old acquaintance of pub owner Owren. Mal suspected that the two were former adventurers together, but he did not wish to press Owren by asking. Some things are best left in the past. He knew that his former employer did not have a good final go of it. Let gnawing rats have their cheese.

"Maldor thank boss for pay" Mal offered. "Maldor go get supply, come back. Thank you for genero..."

Mal stumbles to finish the complicated word. At least, complicated for him.

"...sity."

As soon as he received Mithra's hearty slap on the back, Mal's forehead wrinkled. Oh, it was a showing of fighter's kinship.

"Well met, warrior woman" Mal simply offered.

As he turned to head for the Works, Mal noticed one of the humans giving him a signal. Did he desire to speak with the tall fighter? After a short pause, he approached.

"Human want speak with Maldor?"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:24, Sat 02 Aug 2014.

Cunaar smiles. What interesting companions he is falling in with.

"Yes. I desire to speak with you. My name is Cunaar. I would like to give you a gift that you can use to buy whatever equipment you may need."

He holds out a small pouch with 40 gold pieces in it.

Maldor's jaw dropped, revealing more of his two lower jutting teeth. He was speechless for a moment.

"That... that big money" the half-orc haltingly remarked. "Maldor..."

He held open his hand, showing his upfront payment for the job.

"Maldor have money. Maldor no wish take money belong to kind human."

"I quite understand your sentiment ..." Cunaar begins before his own vocabulary catches his attention.

"Maldor is kind to not want to take my money. But I want Maldor to have armor so he can live longer and keep the human safe."

The young wizard who knows nothing of the charm of sharp blades and pain tries to figure out another way to appeal to Maldor.

"Or maybe you could buy a big axe. Very sharp. Very pretty."

Ero purses his lips.  Humans are so inelegant in their names for spells.

"It's good to see your master left you with a well-rounded foundation.  I can offer you Crimson Petals from the -- eh, what do you call it?  Oh yes, Burning Hands.  I can offer you Burning Hands and Sleep for Magic MIssile and Shield.  A fair offer?"

The tall half-orc swallowed while thinking.

"Human is kind. But... But Maldor know where he get armor for good money. Maldor will find weapon with what dwarf give."

Maldor gave a respectful nod.

"Maldor is thankful."

And with that, he stepped toward the road and headed down the row of buildings.

It took little time for Maldor to find the building that he was looking for. He had made pickups from Durthon before for patrons of the Black Scarab. Although without sight, the dwarf's hands worked as if guided by the gods.

Maldor stepped inside and instantly noticed that the light was dim. Of course, Durthon did not need the light. But his assistant did. Nomsiz, the soft-spoken aide to the dwarf, acted as if he could read Mal's mind. He turned the lantern light up, illuminating the front room.

Although not large of space, the room contained a number of items that Maldor would normally only dream of having. Had he owned armor before? Or had he always used just the clothing on his back? Having no memory before he was found in the Tower District was sometimes disturbing. Then again, any bad memory was hidden as well.

"Ah, it is Orwen's tall friend" said a deep voice to Mal's right. He looked over. Durthon had made his way from the back. He used his hand to follow the counter close to his customer.

"I do not recall an order to be picked up" Durthon smiled, revealing his yellowed teeth, a couple missing.

"No. Maldor customer today. Maldor go on trip to Phandelver. Help dwarf at outfitters protect daughter."

Durthon's smile broadened.

"So your dreams of adventuring are coming true? Splendid! It is protection that you are in need of?"

Maldor pointed to the corner. He knew that the dwarf could not see what he was doing, but he also knew that he had a mysterious extra sense.

Durthon had not lost his smile. He followed the counter some more until he came across a set of studded leather armor. It had obviously been produced from pieces of different sets... colors and protrusions were different across it... but it looked sturdy.

Durthon easily lifted the armor and placed it on the counter. Maldor's hands almost shook before he touched it.

"This protection good. It solid. It firm at seams. Maldor like."

The dwarven armorer scratched his hairy cheek.

"It's yours, if you desire it" Durthon offered. "And since you're a friend of Orwen's, I'll give you a deal."

Another broad smile.

Maldor placed the armor over his clothing. It fit his figure as if made for him. He stretched to make sure that he would be able to move with it on. And then he noticed something else.

Leaning against the corner was a greatclub. The large weapon looked pristine. What of its weight? Could Maldor afford both the studded leather and the weapon?

A little time had passed back at the outfitters before the group there noticed a tall figure headed their way. Getting closer, the could notice that it was a proud Maldor, now donned in his new purchase and with the greatclub over his shoulder. It was as if the half-orc was meant to be equipped as such.

Maldor set his backpack down next to the nearest wagon and turned to Cunaar. He thumped his chest, indicating what he had found.

"Maldor make deal for armor. Find big club. Maldor thank for offer. But Maldor good."

His smile was the first that his fellow adventurers had seen.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:20, Sun 03 Aug 2014.

Cunaar returned the nod and slid the coins back into his belt pouch beneath his robes.

As Ero stumbled in search of the name of his spell, Cunaar thought to himself that elves always make things so much more complicated than necessary. Leave the poetry to the bards, Cunaar liked to say.

"That would be just fine. Even if you had nothing to offer me, I would have happily share what I have. As I hear it, young Marianna has a room at the inn. Perhaps there we can find a couple of candles and a desk or two."

"Okay let's go to the inn. I have Fire Bolt, Prestidigitation and Ray of Frost as Cantrips, as well as Burning Hands, Mage Armor, Magic Missile, Shield and Sleep.", Maria says as she heads to the inn, "I think it better we should do this someplace more quiet than the taproom."

"By all means. After you, Lady Fireheart."

Cunaar smiled as he remembered the games he used to play with his younger sister -- Sir Cunaar the Bold and Lady Clothar the Dazzling. He smile fades as he recalls a darker memory.

He shakes his head and motions for Marianna to lead the way, trying to recover some semblance of his smile again.

The overheard conversation among the magic casters confused Maldor. He did not understand the depth of what they were saying, as simple as it was. The half-orc had no idea about the arcane arts. In fact, he had a lack of knowledge about most things. His injuries those months ago removed whatever was in his head.

But fighting prowess... that seemed understandable. He approached Mithra.

"Good to have other fighter with group" Mal remarked. "Maldor not have to push away all goblins if goblins be found."

He scratched his jaw.

"Maldor no remember what goblin look like. But if there are goblins, you and me, we push hard, yes?"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:06, Sun 03 Aug 2014.

"No Light?" Ero asks as they head out of the taproom.  "I would think that would be the first spell one would teach a human.  We shall fix that, young lady.  You'll never have to worry about stumbling around in the dark again."

"I see your Master gave you a good spread of melee spells, but you miss the true majesty of the arcane arts without some basic divination spells.  Identify and Detect Magic will let you sense the magical properties imbued in items."

Maria leads her two new friends to her room. The girl is in one of the more modest, though not too modest rooms in the inn. She will open her spellbook to her new friends and show them her spells.

OOC: I do not know how to copy a spell from a spellbook although I read the rules. So if I am to understand I need to pay 50 gold and spend at least 2 hours learning a spell?

Cunaar pulls out a simple wooden box that contains his inks. "If we want to get a good night of rest, we might need to limit our efforts tonight."

OOC:

That is how I read it. 50 gp and 2 hours per level of the spell. I will note as well that cantrips are not recorded in spellbooks. The rules for copying spells specify that spells must be 1st level or higher. Cantrips known are set by the wizard class table. I take that to mean we can't teach each other cantrips the same way we can share spells.

As I interpret the rules, I'd say that cantrips take up so much of your mental faculties that until you expand them (normally through level progression), there's no room in your mind for new cantrips.

Same thing really for regular spell slots, the difference being that these are 'empty' slots until you fill them up by studying a spell.

At the same time, like those 'empty' spell slots, you can fill up one of your cantrip slots with a different cantrip, but you lose the one you knew.

As for the 50gp, that's normally the cost for the special paper and the special ink to 'store' the spell in your spell book. Essentially, you are putting power onto the page in your spell book. Normal paper and ink can't handle the arcane power.

So at this point, I'll say each of you have two blank pages in your spell books, and sufficient ink left to scribe two spells into your book.

"We can transcribe one tonight and save the other for when we arrive at our destination," Ero suggests.  "It's always better to take the time to do it right.  Mistakes are costly."

I'll take Shield.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:21, Wed 06 Aug 2014.

"Yes. And painful, too."

OOC:

Cunaar will copy Sleep into his spell book.

"Agreed.", Maria says and she decides to take Detect Magic as her new spell.