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?"