The Happy Drover is a run down Inn just outside the city walls, close to the animal pens that are used when stock is brought to town for the meat market.  It is also know as a meeting place for some independent trade caravans and and their mercenary guard units.

There is a small bar selling a variety of cheap ales, wine and ciders  with high stools so that customers can sit up at the bar and chat to the bar tender, as well as a few smaller tables and chairs.  The large common room has trestle tables and benches and there is a darts board in the corner -  but at this time of the year it doesn't see many customers.  Indeed, at this time of the year The Happy Drover doesn't see all that many customers at all - and it has been so quiet recently that the waitress was laid off.  If you want to get served you will have to go up to the bar and get it yourself.
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 08:40, Fri 04 Mar 2016.

The barkeep stands behind the bar polishing the bar top with a dirty looking cloth.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 11:31, Fri 04 Mar 2016.

Adoven walked into The Happy Drover and sat at the bar. He notices not too many patrons in the bar yet. He grabs a stool near the barkeep and orders, "Hello there barkeep. Could I get a dark beer and do you guys have any food this time of day?"

"Yeah." the barkeep responds laconically as he puts the cloth down and pulls a mug of dark for Adoven.  "Are you one of Mr de le Maistre's men?" he asks as he puts the ale on the bar top.

"As of today, yes." Adoven tosses a few coins to the barkeep, "How many of us do you expect to get in here?"

"Well, he booked a barrack room, and there are ten bunks in there, but he didn't say how many." the barkeep shrugs and he picks the right money out of the coins on the bar.  "But there is stew on for you guys at Dinner time.  And he is picking up the tab for that." he adds with a grin.

"He said you guys were heading out west?" he half suggests as he draws a small mug of a lighter ale for himself.

"That's what they tell me. Seems there are a few different charters out there. I'm excited to see what ours brings us.  Just getting out of the city is going to be great. Hopefully make some friends and find that glorious treasures of war!" Adoven sipped on the beer as he waited for others to join him at the inn.

"Not a city boy then?" The barkeep asks, giving his customer the chance to chat, if he wants to.

Bai stood outside the inn for a while, watching the sky with a smile on her face. After she had her fill she ventured into the inn took in her surroundings. She noted the barkeep and approached, "I was told you'd have a room for me? I'm working for Mr. de le Maistre. Oh, and if I could have a plate of whatever you've got I'd love that too."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:58, Sat 05 Mar 2016.

Moto was happy with the signing bonus. As he walked toward the inn, he noticed a young woman looking up in the sky. Moto looked up briefly, but saw nothing. Perhaps rain in the future..maybe not. Funny enough, she entered the same inn he was headed towards.  Moto waited to order before speaking to the barkeep. “I too work for Henry de la Maistre. Food and a good shout ale...please.” Once he had his ale, Moto moved to one of the back tables.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:25, Sat 05 Mar 2016.

"Dinner's later." The barkeep responds to Bai's question about food, although he is happy to put up Moto's ale and a drink for Bai should she ask for one.  "But Mr. de le Maistre is paying for that." He adds softening the comment slightly.

A very brief look of annoyance crosses his face as he notices the gear that people are carrying.  "Come on, I'll show you to your ...  room." The barkeep says hesitating slightly over what to call it.  He takes a key from a hook at the back of the bar and walks across to open a door leading of from the common room, and holds out an arm to usher you in.

Inside there is a single large room, with six sets of two tier bunk beds along the walls,a table in the middle of the room and a small iron stove at the far end.  A barracks style bunk-room with enough space for a dozen people.  "All yours, folks.  You early birds get to choose the best beds ...  I'll be back at the bar if you need me." He finishes as he leaves you to the room

Adoven followed the barkeep to check out the living quarters. Great....bunk beds. So much for privacy.

Adoven scanned the room for the best bed and decided they all looked the same so he grabbed a bottom bunk in the corner and tossed his backpack on it. He sat down and waited for the rest to arrive. He was eager to meet his new associates. Hopefully they clicked.

The clanking and heavy footfalls preceded Vik by a good deal of distance. Short though she may be, she carried her gear herself, as her captain had taught her, and grimly, without complaint. The cast-iron pot beat against side of the backpack along with her gait.

Gripping her pack with her gloved hands, she strode into the Drover, immediately sliding the pack from her back and gripping it, placing it down as she approached the innkeep

"Innkeep! I've need of your services. Firstly I'll be needing somewhere to hang my swordbelt-"

She unlatched the first of her belts, which kept her axes and shortswords, and held it to the side of the counter, so as to show it without scratching the wood.

"-and I'll be needing a pint, two if you'd be so kind. Maistre sent me, and I understand I'm to billet myself at the accommodations he's paid for."

Taking out her coin purse, she shook out and then stacked ten silvers, sliding them towards the innkeep

"This I'm leaving with you. Payment for the aforementioned ale, and for a pitcher of wine with my dinner. Further expenses might accumulate, and if there is any silver left when I leave I will collect it, and leave a suitable payment for your service. Should my coin prove too poor to pay for my appetites, I'll give you more."

She straightened and looked around, seeing if the rooms were visible from where she stood.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:42, Sat 05 Mar 2016.

Hearing the approach of someone in armour, the barkeep looks up expecting to see a large man walk through the door.  However, he nearly maintains his composure when he sees the young woman, and there is little more than a widening of his eyes as the girl approaches the bar.

He is just about to step out from the bar to show her the barracks room when she orders ale.  ”Light or dark,” he asks, somewhat belatedly adding a ”Ma’am” as she hands over a stack of coins.

He takes the coins and steps out from the bar.  ”You are in the barracks through here.” he says as he takes her through to the large bunk room.  ”One of your colleagues is here already.” He says stopping at the doorway.

””Shall I bring the ale through or will you be coming bac to the bar?”

"I'm late I'm late!"

The pattering of footsteps grew louder.

"I must be late, please don't be late!"

Rikka burst through the door, panting heavily-and just behind the rather more punctual Vik.  Given how she had only a battered looking leather jack and a sword at her side that looked like it had been passed down at least two generations without a proper reforging....

Well, problems are problems no matter who you are.

"Rikka here!"  She waves to the room, trying to catch her breath.  "Was I too late?  I overslept last night and I had to try running most of the rest of the way here."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:17, Sat 05 Mar 2016.

Just as he is returning from showing Vik to the barracks another one bursts through the door.  "Whooooa" the barman tries to slow Rikka down.  "There is only a few here yet." he says guessing that she is another on of de le Maistre's mercenary band.

"The barracks are through here ..." he says indicating the door way again.

In a field near the Happy Drover a couple of peasant children overlooked something of a scene. A yak stood, its shaggy fur curling nearly to the ground as it chewed incessantly. It's dark furred face looked placid and stupid as it regurgitated some cud, chewed it, and then swallowed it back down into a different chamber of its unusual stomach. Layers of old blankets, once colorful but now faded, and leather harnesses are strapped down with bundles of equipment; it didn't seem to mind or even notice the weight.

Next to the yak was a girl. Asleep, her hair a mess, and currently being poked with a stick wielded by one of the children. She wore a dark coat that looked to once belong to a noble but it has been stained with soot and acrid chemicals to a dingy dark grey. The front has been roughly tailored to button along the leather cuirass that ended just low enough to expose an eyeful of tightly squeezed bust. The bottom of it, likewise, ended prematurely to show off wide hips and slender midriff. Slung low on those hips is a belt and scruffy black leather shorts that ended at the very tops of her otherwise bare legs. One of those legs were badly bruised; black, purple, and yellow from her drunken journey here dangling from the yak's pack saddle. Her feet are mostly bare, just cloth wrapped around the ball of her footpad and bottom of her heel. She turns in her sleep, presenting her back to the startled children, showing the three holes in her short coat that looked suspiciously like they were made by arrows.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:23, Sat 05 Mar 2016.

Young Rook was happy to take the meeting at the Silver Dagger originally proposed by de la Maistre; he'd never seen the inside of a place like that. The job was just the icing on the cake. It gave him the opportunity to explore the Stolen Lands with most expenses paid. But he was mostly glad to get out of the city.

Even with with extra coin in his pocket he felt a weight lift off of him as he moved through the city gates. It was beginning to warm up already and as such the human had removed his leather cloak and rolled it up along with his bedroll atop his backpack. He carried a sturdy leather coat on one shoulder, his other arm carrying a longbow. His quick movements slowed to a stroll as he passed by the stock yard. What caught his attention, though, was the yak standing in a field beside a pair of children armed with sticks. A stern look came over his face when he got close enough to see what they were actually doing. "Y'all scat, get!" He grunted with narrowed green eyes, swinging the end of his bow at their backsides and making a short hissing sound upon contact.

With the children mostly gone, though Rook still kept an eye over his shoulder for them, he squatted near the sleeping girl. First clearing his throat, he waited to see if the sound was enough to wake her. Knowing that it probably wouldn't, he followed it up with a gentle nudging with his bow, not unlike the poking of the stick "Excuse me. There's an Inn just up the way here. You don't have to sleep outside."

Seeing the room was good, not great. Moto nodded in thanks to the barkeep. Sitting down at the table with his ale, he filled his pipe and lit it with a quick flash of his fingers. Letting out a breath of dark smoke, Moto finally took off his hat and his catlike yellow eyes looks over the room. “Fellow explorers, I think it would be well to introduce ourselves. I am Moto Trema, and I have a gift with sword and spell.” Moto then offers out his peace-pipe to whomever would come to the table.

Borric walked into the establishment. He wore scale mail armor over his trousers and shirt. A dark cloak was on his shoulders. He paused at the threshold and looked over the group already assembled. "Barkeep." He said as he walked up to the counter, "I understand that accommodations have been arranged. Henry de la Maistre has sent me here for the evening before we are to set out."

"The name's Borric."

The barkeep nods at Borric and guides him towards the barrack rooms along with the others, "This way sir."

Not the normal bunch of caravan guards then, he thinks to himself, as he considers the strange combination of people heading into his large bunk room.

"Stew for dinner, later this evening.  And you all get a free ale with that.  Anything else you wanr you can get from the bar." He announce to everyone in earshot.

Pipre sits up groggily at actually being addressed, her body seeming to react before her brain does. She looks around, dark eyes in bruised, black eye sockets, lashes barely opening as she groggily appraises the situation. "I wasn't sleeping," she says in clear protest of the reality, her voice as smoky and gravelly as it can be while retaining a clear feminine timbre. She wipes her face and winces slightly as she touches the sensitive bruising around her eyes, "I was meant to be going to an Inn, where'd you say it was?" She reaches back and to the side, grabbing the yak's neck and using it to haul herself up to a shaky stand, still squinting in the light of day. "Don't suppose you're going that way yourself?" Pipre asks, finally focusing on the person who roused her just long enough for her shoulders to heave slightly, signalling some of the mess she drank last night is making its way back up. She manages to swallow it back down, however, in a way oddly reminiscent of how her yak regurgitates and then reswallows cud.

In reply to Barkeep (msg # 14):

"Light ale, I'll return to the bar."

Having stowed her weapons, and placed her pack and accompanying gear on her bunk, Vik took to removing her armour, first the banded metal skirt that hung past her knees, and then the coat. Leaving the skirt alongside her gear, she slung the metal reinforced jacket over a shoulder, leaving her wool traveling cloak over the whole pile and shifting her bronze dagger to her hip before walking back to the common room to drink. She slung her armoured coat over the table and sat.

When Moto introduced himself, Vik nodded

"Vik, that's what they call me. Skill with spells I've little, but I handle short blade, axe and pike well enough."

When she sat up, he took a step back and stood, shifting the bow in his hand and bouncing the string off of his forearm in a nervous movement. He got a whiff of the air around her, his nose wrinkling briefly. Now that she seemed conscious, the young man actually took stock of her physical appearance. "No, I don't guess you were." His eyes lingered on the bruising appearing around her eyes and on her legs. He outright stared at the wrappings on her feet. "Passing out isn't very restful. The Happy Drover's just down the road a ways." Rook pointed with his bow in the general direction.

"I am, I've got to meet up with others for work. If you can make it without spraying me, I'll buy you something to settle your stomach. Then a hot bath, if it's available. Maybe some boots later on. I got paid, you know. For the work. What's the name of your animal? I expect you'll have to ride it."

Borric picked up a mug of ale before he found a table. He addressed those around, "Name's Borric d'Cordain." He took a draw from the mug, "Please, tell me your names."

In reply to Borric d'Cordain (msg # 25):

Vik raises her flagon to Borric

"My name is Vik, well met."

A tall, thin man enters the Happy Drover, pulling back his hood to reveal a horse-like face framed by long lanky red hair and a fulsome moustache.  He turns and looks back through the doorway, looking up and down the street for a few moments before loosening his cloak to reveal clothes that were once fine, but are now worn and disheveled. Despite the furtiveness of his actions, the man has a certain bearing, what might be described as a faded nobility.

"Oh. Hello."  the man nods to the barkeep as he unshoulders his leather pack, his drawl somewhat at odds with his manner. He dips his hand into his pocket, pulling out a small pile of coins, and pokes through them sadly before asking, "An ale please ... better make it pale."  He nods again, as if proud of himself for making the wise choice.

Waiting patiently for his drink, another thought strikes him. "Oh. I'm supposed to meet Sir Henry here ... Henry de le Maistre ?" he looks at the barkeep as if hoping the man might at least recognise the name.  "Something about rooms ?"

“Borric d'Cordain and Vik, pleased to met you.” He then shakes the hands of both of them. As he shook Borric's hand, he repeated his name as asked. “Moto.” Letting out another breath of dark smoke from his pipe, Moto found the cast of characters to be interesting.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:08, Wed 09 Mar 2016.

"Spraying you? I'm not a cat. And what do you do there, entertain guests by shooting apples off their heads? Dangerous work, that." She took one of several waterskins off of the pack saddle and uses a bit of water to wash her face, once again wincing when she got to sensitive areas. She had a bit of a wild look, even without all the bruising scruffiness of her current predicament; half of her left eyebrow and the hair on the left side of her head seemed to have been singed as part of the eyebrow was missing and the hair on that side of her head was much shorter than the rest, barely having grown back.

As she puts the waterskin back she seems pleased with the yak, patting its neck, "Hear that, Thistle? The drover is just up the way, you almost brought me here. What a smart yak." As if remembering Rook was nearby she turned back to him, "She doesn't like being ridden, that's part of what caused this mess in the first place. I'll manage, I've had worse hangovers; I've woken up in stranger loci."

As people arrive, the barkeep scurries around pouring ale, showing people to the bunk room and generally being helpful.

However, before to long he starts to fetch out dinner and put it on a side table in the common room.  There is a good sized basket with bread in it, another with apples and a large dish of cooked vegetables -  there is  cabbage, onion and turnip  in there, as well as a few less recognisable pieces.  Then a platter of 24 warm, but unpeeled,  hard boiled eggs. Sppo ns a nd bowls follows.

"GRUB UP," he calls, "Dinner for Mr de le Maistre's party."

There are a number of smaller tables close to the food that will allow conversation between the whole group.

Staying more or less to herself as the others all chatted, Bai rose to get a plate of food, and quietly sat back down watching how the others interacted. She looked forward to being able to follow this ever growing cast of colorful characters, smiling as she at her food.

Adoven grabbed a plate of food and sat near Vic and Borric. "The names Adoven. The food looks delicious!" He looks towards Vic, "Nice to meet you Vic. I saw you walk in. That is a lot of gear for a small person! You must be quite the brute underneath that young face!"

In reply to Adoven (msg # 32):

"The circles I sail in, they insist you carry your own gear. It is little more than what is necessary . . . and a few comforts. I must admit I'd have everything made of mithral and sooner save my back than my pride or purse."

Vik filled a plate with as much food as she could carry and returned to the table.

"Well met, Adoven, Vik and Moto." Borric smiled. He tugged at his gauntlets before he tucked them in his belt. "These are but tools. Some jobs require different tools. I try to be prepared. Please sit and share the table with me."

The knight of Iomedae looked at those around the table. "Most of those that entered the Inn after I stated that they were here because of Henry de la Maistre. Are you here for that reason as well? Because of the charter?

In reply to Borric d'Cordain (msg # 34):

"That would be the reason. Money was a good deal of the reason too. Five times what I'd make if I took on piece meal work. And that's assuming the work takes the better part of a month, I can find more work after this as well."

Vik attacked her food like someone who'd not eaten much of anything all day.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:29, Mon 07 Mar 2016.

Adoven lingers on Vik's face a moment longer. "You...look familiar. You're not from up by Winter Break area are you?"

Adoven could not pinpoint why...but Vik seemed familiar in some way to him.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:20, Mon 07 Mar 2016.

"Dinnnneeeer...."

Rikka stumbled to the table with the other members of the party, and sat down at her part of the bench with a slump.  "I had to go without breakfast today, and I wasn't going to waste any of my trail mix when I don't need to!"

She helps herself to a good portion, and begins to get started.

"Oh!  My name's Rikka!"  She waved to the other members of the company.  "I signed up for the trip because it looked like it was worth a lot, and apparently I made the grade!  Nice to meet you all!"

"Welcome Rikka." Borric went on to introduce the others at the table. There were others at the Inn, but he hadn't had a chance to meet them yet. He set down his mug before he got up to take a plate for himself. He returned to the table, "So have any of you done this type of work before? I must admit... this type of work is larger than anything I've done in the past."

In reply to Adoven (msg # 36):

"Winterbreak was where I grew up. I haven't been back more than . . . three times since I started my training on ships, but father seems to keep the family larders and coffers meticulously stocked."

Vik tried not to let on that Adoven had the uncomfortable air of familiarity about him. In her line of work, that tended to mean someone who'd sooner see you dead, but talk of Winterbreak made her second guess that assumption.

When dinner was called, Moto got up, picked up his hat to keep it close and slowly moved out to the common room. Seeing the feast that was before him a small smile crossed his face, but just for a moment. Grabbing a plate of food with some eggs, he sat down with Borric  and the others. “The charter is Henry de la Maistre chance for great fame and fortune...or ruin...and the same for all who go with him. I go not just for adventure, but to prove I am worthy of the noble blood that flows in my veins. To see if I can survive the wild lands."
This message was last edited by the player at 06:38, Tue 08 Mar 2016.

Another one of their members hinted that they had noble blood in their veins. There was Moto, Vik maybe Adoven was one too. His claim wasn't acknowledged and difficult to trace. Sir Arutha left less than two months ago to follow up on a lead. He didn't have much hope after so many leads came up empty.

"Moto, are you a member of one of the Houses in Brevoy?

When Borric directly asked if he belonged to one of the noble houses, Moto frowned. “It's kind of a long story. My great-grandmother was the mistress of prince Roto Rogarvia. They had a son named Tomas Trema, my grandfather. All I have is this very old sword, given to Roto to my grandfather as a child.” Moto puts his sword on the table for Borric to look at. Once he was done, Moto quickly put the sword back at his side.

"Besides this sword, I have no real proof of my nobility. An aged sword a prince long ago gave as a gift does not directly support my claim. So, no Borric..I am not recognized as a member of a noble house...Maybe one day...” 

Percy joins the others at the buffet, being particularly pleased to see the boiled eggs on offer amidst the fare, taking two of those and a little bit of everything else, before finding himself a seat.

For a while he is content to simply eat, displaying fine manners, should anyone care enough to watch him as he works his way through his plate, happily soaking in the camerarderie and listening to the conversation ebb and flow around him.

"Noble blood doesn't always pay particularly well," Percy smiles as he addresses his remarks to Vik and Moto, playing with the signet ring on his finger, "but it can be quite expensive !  More luck to Henry, I say, and all who accompany him on his endeavours."

Bai helped herself to a second serving, the food wasn't particularly good, but it was free and that more than made up for it. Sitting back down she overheard Percy's comment and noticed him playing with his signet ring. She opened her mouth to remark, but thought better of it and instead placed her fork in her mouth, choosing to eat instead of interjecting in the conversation.

"What? No, with vomit. Of course you're not a cat. Or a man." He continued to bounce the bow string on his arm and then held it up to look at it. "Don't be ridiculous. I hunt with this. I work for a living. With my hands." And indeed his manner of dress was someone that spent time in the woods or working the land. His clothing was dusty and worn, all muted earth-tones. The bow itself had spots on the wood that had been worn through with constant use.

"That's a good name, Thistle. Come on, then."  Rook said as she complimented the large beast. He didn't dally or wait for her to pack or anything, just took off with a long, determined stride to the Inn. He continued on through the door, not slowing down until he was inside. There her stopped, looking around the room and trying to figure out who was who and where he belonged. Assuming the group settled at the table with food were the others, he approached them slowly.

"Excuse me. Are you all with the group working for Henry de la Maistre?"

Vik got up abruptly and returned with more bread and vegetables.

"Sorry . . . I must admit one of the things that's missed most on the road and waves is things not drowned in salt."

Moto nodded to the tall red haired man with the big mustache. He looked at the signet ring the man seemed to be playing with. “Well said...I don't believe I got your name?” Moto held out his hand in friendship.

Then as the man with the longbow came over, Moto answered him. “Indeed we are. I am Moto Trema. If you are one of our number, welcome.”
This message was last edited by the player at 05:46, Wed 09 Mar 2016.

"I don't believe I gave it," the lanky man sounds most apologetic as he sets down his knife and shakes the offered hand. "Quite remiss of me ... my name is Percy.  Perch Arndell."

"Welcome, indeed," he echoes Moto's words to the new arrival, glancing lazily around the room.  "I think he might be planning an invasion rather than a reconnaissance !"

Bai continues to observe the ever growing group. They all seem friendly enough, or at least good at hiding their true motives. Finishing her second serving she went to the bar and gave her dishes to the barkeep, placing a gold coin on the bar she smiled at the man. "Thank you, the food was very good." She raised a hand to stop any denial of the money, "That's a tip, you earned it."

Moving back to the tables she took her seat and went back to simply watching the group.

Pipre leads Thistle along, following behind Rook until they reach the animal pens of the Happy Drover. If there is someone attending the pens she will give them a shiny silver piece to take care of the yak or otherwise doing it herself before moving into the inn properly. After taking in the essentials she needs, taking it off the pack saddle and carrying it in, she is in a cold sweat from the sheer level of toxins her body is sweating out from the night before.

She reads the situation quickly enough and moves to get some of the food that will nicely absorb some of the mess she drank. While getting out the coin to pay she was told that the food was on the house and with that knowledge she helped herself to a bit more. She came to sit down, squeezing herself between two other people to make a spot for herself at the table and not seeming shy about it. She also isn't shy about eating with her dirty fingers, slender and soot-stained with dirt under her nails, and using the bread to sop up the broth. "Pipre," she would say at some point, and to no one in particular, "Alchemist."

The barkeep watches with interest as more of de le Maistre's people turn up and start tucking into the food. Perfect timing, he thinks as they all start to dig in but I hope there aren't many more of them .... the thoughts continue as he wonders whether he will have to serve his own dinner to these guests, to make up a short fall.

However, when Bai approaches the bar he is more than happy to take both the dishes and the gold coin from her.  "Thank you Ma'am." he responds with a note of surprise in his voice.

New thread is open - please move across to that.

However, please feel free to finish off any conversations in this thread, if you wish.

"An alchemist, eh," Percy greets the newcomer with a smile as he shuffles along to make room for her, absently brushing at his cloak as he replies to her succinct conversational efforts. "Lead into gold and such arcane mysteries ?  Fascinating !  Alas, I seem to possess the unhappy gift of being able to make gold vanish completely.  And quite without any effort on my part to boot.  I only wish I could tell you how I do it !"

"Percy's the name."  Out of politeness he doesn't offer a hand, as both of Pipre's seem fully occupied.

In reply to Percy Arndell (msg # 53):

Borric joined in with a laugh at Percy's joke. "The gift is a curse, I say." He turned to Pipre, "Is it true? You can turn lead into gold?" He seemed fascinated with the idea.

Thread now closed to Group 1

The Inn Keeper cleans the mugs and wipes down the bar surface as he waits for new customers.

The young man looked again at the sign above the door of the inn.

"Well, I suppose this must be the place. The Happy Drover Inn. I wonder how many people would guess that name from that picture?"

He shrugged and walked inside. After a quick glance to get his bearings he headed straight for the bar.

"Greetings, friend," he said to the barkeep. "Henry de le Maistre said he's organised lodging for his men here while we are in town. Is there somewhere I can store my gear?"

He indicated over his shoulder with his thumb at the backpack, bedroll, waterskin, shield, morningstar and crossbow with which he was burdened.

"Back here," he says leading Andalon to the bunk room, "It is just going to be you and your mates in here, so it should be safe enough.  You're the first so you get first pick." He rambles on companionably from the door way.

"Ale up at the bar, dinner later in the common room." he adds before he heads back to ythe bar.

This plain room has six double bunk beds set around the sides and can sleep up to twelve people, it ha a long table in the middle of the room.

Andalon says a simple "Thanks" as the barkeep finishes his brief introduction.

He looks around then swings his backpack and bedroll up onto a top bunk near the door. He covers his light crossbow with his shield on the bed then he hangs his waterskin and morningstar on the bedpost near the wall.

Then he heads back out to the bar and orders a mug of ale. When the barkeep hands over the drink Andalon reverently removes the golden key (on closer inspection it is obvious that it is just painted gold) from around his neck and touches it to the mug. "The blessings of Abadar be upon this House," he says, then drinks from the mug with obvious pleasure.

He smiles at the barkeep and raises his mug in salute.

"I trust you have made a good deal with Henry de la Maistre? Good for both of you?" he asks.

"Indeed." the inn keeper responds with a smile responding to the sign of the Golden Key, mush as one business man would to another.  "It is quiet at this time of year, just a few locals and a bit of trade as the villagers come into market. So it is good to have people in and around.  And there were a couple of very generous people among your colleagues, who went out this morning." he grins broadly.

"We get much busier into the summer as the crops start coming in, and during the last few months before winter, everyone has crop or meat for the market.  I have to take on two or three extra staff then." he says with a smile as he remembers the coin that flowed through his hands just a few months before.

Andalon looked a bit taken aback at the news of another group that left this morning.

"What? Don't tell me I was too late getting here? No, that can't be right, I only signed up with de la Maistre this afternoon. So he is hiring two teams? Did you hear where they are heading for?" he inquired.

"Out past Fort Serenko, to some place called Oleg's." The barkeep shrugs.  "There was nine in that group.  I remember Mr de le Maistre saying he needed to see one of the Swordlords, and that he would be following on in a day or two, so maybe he is just adding to the numbers while he is in town?" he half suggests, as he starts polishing at a possible stain on the bar.

A shadow descends on the doorstep of the Happy Dover.

There is a moments pause before a gloved hand reaches out to open the door and make their way inside.

Looking around, the newcomer takes stock of the surroundings and inhabitants before a hand reaches up to pull back the hood of the cloak they wear and reveal themselves. The newcomer is female, though that is likely not surprising. What is surprising is the color of her skin. Though not the rich ebony of rumors, it has a clear Grey complexion, that were not for the outcry might actually be considered lovely.

A hardened face, likely from years of learned indifference looks over the two speaking and slowly makes her way towards them.

"Let's skip the banter, shall we? " she says, in aim to avoid any hostilities. "I'm here at the request of my employer, one Henry De La Maistre. " she replies simply, pulling a glove from one hand and then the other.

Andalon glances across at the newcomer and his eyes widen in surprise before he glances away. When he looks back at her a moment later that brief expression of surprise is gone and replaced by a friendly smile.

"Me too, so it looks like we will be travelling together. I am Andalon de Lebeda, a cleric of Abadar," he says to introduce himself.

Aris'ta looks at the cleric, clearly sizing him up. A moment later she extends a hand to him.

"I am called Aris'ta, and consider myself as skilled with the bow as I am with my wit. I apologize if I came off abrupt just now, " she paused, giving the barkeep a sideways glance.

"I am not use to having a kind welcome, let alone one so friendly." she turns and smiles politely, if not shortly, towards the barkeep. "Might I trouble you for some water, if it is drinkable? If not I'll take as stout an offering as you can male. " she requests.

"I don't drink it personally" the barkeep respond, eying his new customer up, "Can't never tell when  there might be something wrong with it.  I can do some onion tea, if you want to wait for the water to boil, or there is small ale if you want something really light.  Otherwise it is just ale or stout."  He says giving a run down to the drinks available.

"The bunk room is through there." He says indicating the door through into the common  room, "I can show you through when you are ready."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:42, Mon 21 Mar 2016.

Andalon happily shakes hands with his new colleague.

"Well, there's a happy coincidence for you," he exclaimed. "One of the orisons I have prepared today is Create Water. I would be quite happy to fill a mug with clean, pure water any time you want it. Although, of course, as Abadar is the god of merchants and wealth, he may take offence if I were to do so for free. But one copper piece for a mug of pure, clean water would certainly avoid any offence to my god. Or stick with the ale - it really is quite decent."

He lifts his own mug of ale in salute to the barkeep and savours another mouthful.

A smile touches her lips, though barely, and she takes a seat. Resting an arm on the bar, she reaches into a pouch and pulls a few copper pieces from her purse. She lays two on the counter. "I assume you are the owner of the establishment? Might I please have a clean mug for my friend here to place water in?" then turns her eyes back to Andalon and holds out the other for him, held between thumb and forefinger.

"While I do not have faith myself, I would hardly wish to displease yours. My offering and thanks for the water. " she states, though knows at some point she will need to switch as she cant afford to pay for water each time. Still it would not be wise to find disfavor in newfound friends, especially those one is inclined to work with.

"Well, I run the place." The barkeep offers as he pulls out a 4-pint jug from under the counter and finds a clay cup, which he polishes with a rag - holding it up to make sure there are no smears on the glazed surface.

However, he pushes the coppers back towards Aris'ta with a grin "Just don't make too much of a habit of it, or I'll go broke."
This message was lightly edited by the player at 19:03, Mon 21 Mar 2016.

Andalon accepts the copper piece and touches it reverently to the gold painted key he wears around his neck before pocketing the coin. Then he chants a brief prayer as he holds the key firstly above the mug then above the jug as well. Both fill with clean, clear water.

He nods to the barkeep and murmurs, "Thank you."

Aris'ta looks surprised a moment, as she retrieves her coin and pockets them. She watched closely as Andalon does his blessing and sure to his world, clean, clear water appears. It has always been a marvel to her that such things worked. Though, magic was a thing of everyday.

"Again, you have my thanks. It has been a long while since I have found so kind a greeting. I shall have to recall it on the road should we encounter others not as kind. " lifting the cup to her lips, she took a sip and closed her eyes in satisfaction.

" A true talent to your profession, if I ever cross paths with anyone who questions you, I shall be sure to right their memory. " she pauses, setting the cup back down. " Tell me, what do you hope to accomplish on this excursion of ours?"

Andalon smiles as he recalls a happy memory.

"Well, I had a tutor when I was younger. He was supposed to teach me the skills I would require to succeed in my family's trade as a merchant. But he was a young and enthusiastic cleric of Abadar, much like I am now, I suppose, and we found we both enjoyed tales of the adventures of the Balanced Scales of Katapesh, a clerical order of church of Abadar tasked with searching out hidden, misplaced or ill-gotten wealth from all sorts of exciting places ranging from bandit lairs to forgotten ruins and ancient tombs out in the wilderness. So surely this mission of Henry de la Maistre's to explore the Stolen Lands must truly be a Godsend! Even the Banker, the head priest of my church, agreed this expedition is quite clearly in line with the church's noble mission to bring the light of civilization to the wilderness. Who knows, perhaps it may even bring me closer to achieving my dream of joining the Balanced Scales, one day."

Andalon sighs and drinks deeply from his mug of ale.

"So, what about you? I would wager that your tale is far more interesting than mine."

She gave pause to consider his words, then shook her head. "Different, yes." she added, taking another sip of water "But I would hardly call it interesting."

Once more, she set the water down before looking at Andalon more seriously. "To my kind I am, I was, a threat. A threat to their way of life and way of thinking. So I had to leave, but not in a manner which allows one to walk through a door or away without a scratch. " a breath leaves her lips and the story stops a moment as her eyes draw away.

"I am here now and lucky to be so for more reasons than I could ever hope to share with you." she pauses, albeit briefly before adding. "The world is full of mystery, wonder, and intrigue, but I have found people are not always willing to glimpse it if it means anything far from their comfort. "

Andalon looked at Aris'ta for a moment and smiled sympathetically.

"Well, if we are travelling together for long, perhaps you will share more of you story with me one day. I have heard a few tales about your people - I'm sorry, you are a dark elf, aren't you? And stories about your underground world - the underdark, right? But I have never seen either before. Some people might be too scared to even learn more about either but I certainly hope I would never shy away from that chance.

"Anyway, you spoke of your bow and your wit. Does that mean you are a mage as well as an archer?"

Aris'ta smiled, fingering the lip of her glass. " I merely meant my knowledge of nature and locality, but I have considered such opportunities. " she paused, raising the glass to her lips once more as she pondered the answer to his other questions.

"Careful what names you speak, for they might get you into trouble. People are right to fear my kind, for as a whole, we are a treacherous people. But there are those, like myself, who do not think as the collective does. We have dared to venture into a world far beyond our understanding in hopes of something better. What awaited us was as you would expect, fear, anger, contempt. Mostly fear and who can blame them? My people live their lives very close to their ideals and your way of life is a threat to that, even if you choose to leave them as they are. But enough of me, tell me more of your worldly conquests. " It is clear that even without forcing the point, she is done speaking of it for now.

"Oh, no, I couldn't do that. A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell," Andalon replies a little too quickly.

"Or did you mean battles I have fought? I am afraid I have nothing much to report in that respect. I have only recently completed my training at the church of Abadar in my home city of New Stetven. The closest I have come to any sort of battle so far is guard duty on the city walls, as my clerical training required service in the city watch as well. But I expect I will have an opportunity to put that part of my training to use once we reach the Stolen Lands."

He drains the last of his mug of ale in one swallow and steps back from the bar.

"Come on then, let's get your accommodation sorted out. Mr Barkeep, now would be a good time to show Miss Aris'ta where to stow her gear. Is she to sleep in the same bunkroom you showed me earlier or is there a separate room for the ladies?"

"One big bunk room." the Inn Keeper responds cheerfully, as he leads the way through the common room to the slightly more private bunk room.  "Take your pick miss." he says indicating the almost empty bunk room.

There are six sets of double bunks, one of which is take up by Andalon's gear.

Aris'ta leans bak a bit in surprise at Andalon's quick response, but makes no direct move or word about it. She merely stores the information as it may become important later. She let's the matter drop as the discussion of their sleeping arrangements is made. She rises from her seat and follows after the pair, looking about the large bunk room with a look of indifference. At the mention that all are to room together, she merely nods her heads and selects a bunk that is farthest from the door and closest to a wall.

" This will do nicely. You have my thanks. " is her slight reply, placing her meager belongings to the bed before turning back around. "Is there a time to ready ones self for a bite to eat or are we to fend for ourselves?" she asks with little worry for her accommodations.

"Stew for dinner later this evening.  I did hear that we had got a bit of chicken to go in it tonight." He confirms with a nod, before he returns to the bar.

Aris'ta gives a slight sigh as the barkeep leaves the room, sitting upon the bunk as she rummages through her pack to check all her belongings are there and ready. It will be nice to have a good meal for a change instead of whatever one can hope to hunt and obtain. She has a few rations she picked up on the trip here, but other than that she has kept her money close, never knowing what she may need it for. Absently, she wonders over what is to come next, but then the thought is gone and she is ready to move on.

Andalon gives Aris'ta enough time to settle in then makes a suggestion.

"Shall we take our bows and see if we can find any sort of wildlife that is fair game around here, to add to tomorrow's stew, or perhaps just somewhere we can practice?"

He lifts the shield that rests on the bunk he had chosen for himself and pulls out the light crossbow that was underneath it.

Aris'ta rises from her place and reaches round to retrieve her quiver and bow.

"A most excellent idea, Andalon, let us as the barkeep if there are areas suitable for such sport. We would not wish to poach on lands that are not allowed for such activities." she smiles, shouldering both bow and quiver, making sure her purse is close to her person and makes move for the bunk  room door.

"Come, it will do us some good to enjoy the open air. "

The barkeep has that expression on his face that says he is going to give them bad news, well before the pair finish asking about hunting grounds.  "There isn't anywhere close that you can hunt without a licence." He tells them quietly, "This close to the city every spare inch of land is spoken for.  However, if you want to use one of the larger animal pens for practice, I can probably arrange that, so long as you are careful, and sensible about it." he offers by way of a compromise.

Aris'ta doesn't seem much surprised by the answer, but the smile remains at the Barkeeps sound compromise. It was more than she expected. "While I am sorry we won't be able to catch any game for your supper tomorrow, I would happily like the chance to warm the shoulder. And you Andalon?" she turns to the other, waiting response.

The barkeep steps out back for a moment or two and you hear him talking quietly to someone, then a young voice acknowledges the request and the barkeep returns to the bar.   "I have sent the lad to ask."

"A bit of target practice would be ideal," Andalon agrees. "I'll lose a lot less of my crossbow bolts that way."

Aris'ta's lower lip trembled just a bit, then she threw back her head and laughed. Oh, it felt so good to laugh like that, it had been so very long. "You and I shall get along fine I feel. Especially with wit as that. "

"Just wait until you see my marksmanship, young lady," he retorts sternly, then breaks into a broad grin. "You'll laugh your head off then!"

In moments he is laughing just as loudly as she is.

After a few minutes the barkeep is called into the back room to speak with the lad again.  "Yep.  For a couple of silvers, he says the bailiff will even set up a couple of practice targets for you on the big pen the militia use for practices.  They will be  crossbow targets, Miss," he half apologises, "because that is what the they issue out to the militia around here.

"Excellent," Andalon replies immediately. "Can you spare the lad for a few minutes to show us the way there?"

"I'll send him to let the Bailiff know, and he'll meet you outside win a couple of minutes." the barkeep replies looking across towards thew door, where the lad is waiting, who nods and disappears out of sight.  "He's a good lad ..." the barkeep adds quietly when the boy is out of earshot.

A few minutes later he is back and waiting outside ready to show you across to the large pen, although you soon realise that it really is the largest on the animal pens, and there is a man there setting up a couple of vaguely man shaped targets.  The targets are set by a barn wall, but a barn wall that has been protected with bales of hay.  It is  almost as if they are expecting more people to miss the target than to hit it.

Aris'ta feels no hard luck at the style of target, she's merely thankful for the chance to practice her skill in a location that may or may not be dangerous. To do so in the company of another is an added bonus. Mentally she makes a note to find some way to reward the lad for his troubles at the barkeeps mention, but she stays relatively silent, save for a "Thank you" until they are on their way to practice.

Once there, she eyes the field with amusement. Not quite as how she would have imagined it, but it will do. "Though tradition often dictates ladies first, I graciously give you the opportunity. "

Then she turns to the lad and adds. "If you've nothing more pressing, I will gladly pay you a few coin to fetch our arrows for us when we are complete. " After all, she would not like to see the child hurt.

Andalon fishes out a couple of silver coins and asks the lad to give them to the bailiff as payment for use of the targets.

Then he paces out a distance of 60 feet from the target and marks a line in the dirt with his boot.

He loads his light crossbow, aims and fires at the target three times in succession. All three shots hit the torso of the target with the second bolt plunging straight through its 'heart'.

Andalon cannot disguise his joy as he steps back from the firing line and walks back to join Aris'ta.

"That's fantastic!" he exclaims. "I've never shot that well in my life!"

OOC: I figure a basic man-size target is AC10, with appropriate adjustment for range increments?
Andalon de Lebeda rolled 16,21,17 using d20+1,d20+1,d20+1.  Target practice (60ft).
Andalon de Lebeda rolled 20 using 1d20+1.  Confirm crit for second shot?

A tall thin half-elf with short wavy dark hair approaches the Drover.  A grey horse with a white patch walks beside her carrying a pack.  She seems to be using it more as a pack animal than anything.  A large bird of prey circles the air above them.  The woman carries only a white birch walking staff.

When they reach the building she clicks her tongue at the horse to get its attention.  She holds up three fingers when the horse looks.  It immediately walks to beside the animal pens and waits.  The half-elf whistles sharply and holds the same three fingers in the air.  The bird lands on the roof of the animal pens and waits as well.

The woman enters the tavern with a smile on her face.  "What a glorious afternoon!  Hello all."  She takes no notice of the fact that the room is mostly empty and turns to wait for someone at the door.  Moments later a small red fox seems to come out of nowhere and enters the tavern.  It holds a bright green apple in its mouth and drops the fruit at the woman's feet.  She bends down to grab the apple and strokes the fox before taking a large bite.

(OOC - Sorry for the nonspecific intro, I'm posting from my phone and out of the house.  I don't want to make the group wait any longer than they have to to start.)

A few moments after the half elf entered the tavern, another man walks into the tavern decked from shoulder to calf in chain mail with a heavy shield and an ornate longsword attached to his back. He made his way deftly to the bar, despite his gear and almost as though he'd heard her comment on the weather, he began, "What a fine day indeed! A great day to begin a journey with my family friend Henry, Henry de la Maistre that is. He sent me here to meet a group set for an expedition. Have you seen him this fine day? Tell me barkeep, are there any others here to meet Henry?

Seeing the fox drop off apples, he commented "That's quite the useful trick my dear, where did you learn it, if you don't mind me asking?"

Aris'ta smiles widely, she enjoys the company of this Andalon character. His mood is most fetching. "Your aim is well. It will be a pleasure to accompany you. Now, I may not take so well a shot, nor as many, but let us see if my arm is still well balanced as to provide you with some competition. " with that, she moves away from him and moves to his shooting point.

Looking at the target, she estimates distance then turns and counts another 20 paces back. Slowly, she takes her stance, lifts her bow and locks her arrow. Her eye finds the target, watching as a small stray hair floats within a short, sudden breeze. For a moment, her eyes narrow and she lets the wing fly. It easily makes it's mark. Lowering the bow, she makes a very short, snappy nod of her head and moves back to Andalon.

"Fate smiles upon us friend. I was unsure of this range, and yet it appears by magic we have both made our marks. Shall we go another? "

"_{22:05, Today: Aris'ta rolled 22 using 1d20+4 ((18))}"
This message was last edited by the player at 05:12, Wed 30 Mar 2016.

”Err..  No, Sir.  I haven’t seen Mr de le Maistre today.  He was in yesterday, to send a group on their way, but he hasn’t been in yet today.” he says deciding that any friend of the man running the show should probably take precedence and be called Sir on principle.  ”Although there are a couple of your colleagues out shooting in the large animal pen.  You might have seen them on the way in?” he half suggests.

Any thought of questioning the suitability of a fox coming into the establishment is driven from his mind, and he turns to the young woman and asks ”Are you with Mr de le Maistre’s party as well?”

----

Outdoors the two shoot, while the lad is happy to hand around to collect bolts or arrows, and to stand the target up again as required.

Andalon & Aris'ta:  Perception check 10 to notice Zorah put her horse into the pen and the hunting bird land on the roof.  Otherwise you are too taken up with your shooting practice.

Having already turned toward the lady with the fox, Cyrus introduces himself, "I too am curious, are you here on behalf of Henry de la Maistre? My name is Cyrus Ondari of Restov. Henry is an old family friend, well more of an acquaintance you see, but he's been kind enough to offer me a position in this expedition, so I hope to call him friend. And you also, you strike me as kind. I do hope I am right that you are joining Henry's expedition, I'm sure your skills with nature will be more than helpful."

Despite the longevity of his speech, you can tell Cyrus is sincere in his interest and tone.

Andalon applauded Aris'ta's excellent shot as she walked back to him and bowed deeply to her as she arrived.

"You have a true gift, that much is clear! Let's see if my luck will hold at that distance."

He walks over to the her firing line and went through the motions of loading, aiming and firing his light crossbow. His first shot missed the target completely and buried itself in a bale of hay a couple of feet left of the target. His second shot literally didn't even hit the side of the barn! It landed a good six feet short and right of the target and the bolt splintered as it slammed into a stone on the ground. Andalon gritted his teeth and fired a third bolt, which finally hit the target in the chest.

He walked back to Aris'ta looking less delighted than previously.

"Well, that's more like my normal level of marksmanship. I hope any foes we meet will oblige by standing still at close range for me to take a good, clear shot at them. Or perhaps I should just concentrate on distracting them with my dazzling display of crossbow skill while you pepper them with arrows?" But he grinned broadly as he said it.

Then he looked at something over Aris'ta's shoulder and pointed out what he had noticed.

"Looks like we have more company at the inn. Perhaps another of de la Maistre's party?"

"Oh yes, Mr. de la Maistre sent me as well.  Murdock has known that trick since he was just a pup.  I taught it to him shortly after finding him abandoned by his mother in the wild.  I hope to find many more friends like Murdock on our journey."

"Relative?  Are you a prince or something?  I'm sorry, I don't go into the cities much.  You certainly look regal enough to be a prince.  Handsome too."  Zorah meant this as a genuine compliment, though whether see was flirting or just being nice was uncertain.  Then a terrified look came across her face.  "Shooting in the animal pen!  Oh no!"  Zorah spit apple from her mouth as she yelled and rushed back outside.

"Wilson!  Don't shoot my bird!"  Seeing the animals were okay Zorah gave the horse a disgusted look.  "I was worried about you too, Puck."

Cyrus was a bit troubled by the question about being royalty, but the complement caused him to blush in spite of himself.

"Thank you for the complementary words, but no I am not royalty, not even nobility. My great, great, great grandfather was once honored for his bravery, but that is all. I see the fox is named Murdock, what is his friend's name? The clever one who has taught him to fetch fruit?"

He heard the voice of his mother reminding him,Always complement a woman for something other than her beauty first. This journey would likely be a long one, it would do well to make friends early with his traveling companions, especially those with such unique gifts.

Seeing her horse and hawk were fine Zorah breathed a sigh of relief.  She turned back to those inside the tavern.  "I'm sorry, that was very rude of me.  My name is Zorah.  Happy to meet you.  By the way, I love the interior of your establishment, sir."  She tells the barkeeper.  "It reminds me of home.  I grew up in a small little cabin on the edge of the forest.  Quite cozy."

Before long, Zorah and Cyrus have been shown to the communal sleeping quarters, Andalon and Aris’ta have returned and everyone is sitting up at the bar, chatting convivially as you get to know each other.

The door swings open and Henry de le Maitre walks in, nodding to the bar keep as he does so.  ”Cyrus.” he greets the warrior casually as he acknowledging the rest of you.   ”This is Tib, and Brother Bart,” He says introducing the two men that follow him in. ”They will be travelling with us tomorrow.”

Tib is a Varisian, and sports a well-trimmed beard.  However, it is probably the large composite long bow and the Owl that he carries, on a falconer’s gauntlet, which attract your attention first.  Brother Bartholomew is a young Phasamin priest, dressed in formal black robes that are very lightly trimmed in silver.  Then, with  a push of his arm, Tib releases the owl and it flies up to roost in the rafters, although it appears to be keeping a beady eye on Murdoch the Fox.

For a moment the Barkeep looks as if he is about to protest, but then remembers who is in charge, and keeps his mouth shut.

”It must be about dinner time.” Henry comments as he walks through to the common room and gestures for you all to join him.  ”We will be leaving first thing in the morning, after breakfast.” He tells you.  Smiling he sits back in his chair, and looks around the group, inviting  you to start a conversation.

"This is great news.  It's always best to start the day with a good breakfast."  Zorah looks to Tib.  "That is a beautiful bird you have Tib.  I love learning about all manner of creatures.  Have you trained it from an egg?"

"The kindly barkeep let us know another group departed a few days ago. Is there an established rendezvous with them or will we meet them where we meet them?" Cyrus asks curiously to their patron.

"A lovely animal," Aris'ta comments, admiring the Owl as they move from one room to the other. Refreshed from her time out of doors, she feels rested and relaxed, though the arrival of newcomers set her a bit ill at ease at first. Andalon was quick to welcome, but many in the communities were not so kind to one of her shade. She could hardly blame them, but at the same she could. So, as a matter of balance she kept mostly to herself, listening to others and speaking when spoken to. It made up in many ways, for Aris'ta was an excellent listener, always quick to catch hidden details that many missed in their casual mode of conversation.

"Will it be a long journey? Are we to meet up with these others?" she asked, once more pulling her gloves from her hand as they prepared to eat. It was easier on the fingers to not be constricted.

Tib’s eyes narrow slightly as he sees Aris’ta, although whether that is for her race or for the bow she carries, is hard to tell.  Brother Bart’s face, on  the other hand is not so well schooled and he almost does a double take when he spots the ears and skin  tones that show her Drow heritage, and this gulp is almost audible.  Regardless of his possible concerns, Tib responds easily to the complements directed at his bird  ”Rat Catcher,” he half introduces the bird, ”although I tend to call her Ratty.  I took her from a man who wasn’t looking after her preperly, when she was a young bird.” he adds in response to Zorah’s Question.

”We will meet up with the others at Oleg’s Trading Post, just a few days journey to the west.  Two days out to Fort Sarenko, which marks the end of Restov’s area of influence, and then two days further on.   I am told that Oleg trades furs and other items taken from the wilderness by hunters and trappers, although that can’t be all that much of a business.” Henry takes up the conversation as he answers both Cyrus and Atis’ta’s questions at the same time.  ”So what have we got today?” he continues as the barkeep starts to bring dinner.

”There is chicken stew, some warm flatbreads and I have some more of those apples.” He says setting the table for the meal.  When they come, the apples are clearly last years fruit  -  a bit shrivelled but still firm and reasonably sweet.

OOC: It is Spring time :)

Andalon put his crossbow back on his bunk bed beneath his shield before joining the new arrivals in the common room.

"Congratulations, Mister de la Maistre, it looks like your recruiting has been quite successful. I am very pleased to meet you all and I can vouch for Aris'ta as a fine archer and good company, so don't let her heritage trouble you at all. I am Andalon de Lebeda, a priest of Abadar and you, Brother Bartholomew, a priest of the Lady of Graves? I expect there may well be some newly departed souls in the days ahead of us needing guidance to the afterlife, so I am pleased to have you with us. Tib and Cyrus, you both look well-equipped to hasten that departure for any foes we might meet on our journey, so I welcome you both as well. And Zorah, it is truly a pleasure to meet you and your friends. Do you mind me asking what else you do beside your obvious skill with birds and animals?"

Hearing Andalon's vouching for Aris'ta put Cyrus at ease. He'd heard the stories of the drow, but he knew that not all that glitters was gold and vice versa.

"It's a pity I missed the archery practice. While I trust in my sword the most, I always welcome the chance to hone my skills with a bow. We will have to look for other opportunities to practice together in the future, with appropriate targets of course." Cyrus says the last bit with a nod to Zorah and Tibs.

"Perhaps," he continues softly so as not to offend the barkeep who left to bring more ale to the patrons, "we should pocket some of these apples, they may make for better targets than food."

Zorah maintained a huge grin the entire conversation, it seems to be her usual expression.  Many in her past have commented on the annoyance it causes, but that never stopped her.  "You did a great job with her, Tib.  I found Murdock abandoned as a cub.  At least he hadn't been mistreated before that."

Zoarh greets her new traveling companions from outside.  "Pleasure to meet you."  She says nervously as she tries not to look Aris'ta in the eye.  She swallows hard before responding to Andolan.  "A wise old elf taught me how to survive off of the land.  My animal friends learned a few tricks to help out, too.  I learned a small bit of magic from the forest, but I left before too long."

Aris'ta managed a smile, but it was tentative at best. She removed the bow and quiver and laid it over the chair, never at ease with parting from it. "I apologize if 'The Singer' makes any uncomfortable, I have grown accustomed to having it always near. It is much like another arm or hand, but I can certainly return it to the bunk area if it is desired. " she states softly before taking a seat. She eyes each in turn, watching some relax as others do not. Letting a breath flow quietly forth, she places her hands on her lap.

"I am sure there will be time for more practice at another date. It was tremendous-- fun to be able to relax after such long journeys. It has been a very long time since I have found myself in such excellent company. " she passes a generous smile towards Andalon before turning her eyes back to Henry.

"Were any troubles noted on your previous journeys as to prepare us for the coming morrow, Sir?" she asks respectfully. After all, it is never right to bite the hand which essentially feeds you.

Brother Bartolomew seems to shrink backwards into his seat when Andalon addresses him directly,  but nods to confirm The Abadarian priest’s assessment.

”Brother bart, here” and you can see the young priest almost wince as his name is shortened, ”has recently been appointed as my personal clerk.  And he may have bitten off a bit more than he expected to chew.” Henry tries to explain the young man’s difficulty.
”The apples, though, are about the best you will get your hands on at this time of year,” henry grins at Cyrus, ”Unless you have friends in all the right places.” and at that he nods towards Zorah, recognising  her undoubted skills and contacts iin the wild.  ”I hope he has a few more that we can take with us for lunch tomorrow.” he adds taking a bite out of one of the said fruits, and casting a hopeful glance towards the Inn keep -  who just grins and nods.

”As for the journey ahead, there shouldn’t be too much problem up until Fort Serenko, after that ….” and he holds his hands out, ”… well, that is partly what we have been sent out there for.   Explore it, map it and report back. Although I understand there has been some bandit activity in the region and we are authorised to deal with that as we need be.”

Shortly after, when Henry is ready to retire, and Tib and ‘Bart ’go out to collect their (and Henry’s) gear, and they too find space to sleep in the same bunks room as everyone else.

In the morning, Henry dresses for riding, wearing good quality studded leather armour and carrying a small metal shield that is covered in a leather case.  He also wears a masterwork short sword at his waist.  Tib and Bart get all of their gear ready for the road, and sit down to a bowl of porridge that has been served for breakfast.  There are flatbreads and apples that you can take for a light packed lunch.

---

OOC – Last chance for any questions etc - before I whisk you away into the wilderness.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:28, Fri 01 Apr 2016.

After a dirty look or two while restlessly rolling around on a top bunk Zorah snuggled up with a small furry "pillow" and went to sleep.  In the morning she met some of the others at the table for breakfast.  She had already devoured an entire apple and started a second by the time she remembered Henry's words from last night.  Zorah looked around apologetically as she slowly replaced the other three apples in her hands.

"Is there any specific gear we may want to bring along to be better prepared?"

Andalon smiled back at Aris'ta and nodded his agreement.

"More practice at another date," he echoed her words. "I shall look forward to that."

He nodded at Zorah's explanation too. "I'm city born and bred, so I am certainly glad to have someone with us who understands the wilderness instead."

After Henry's words he smiled more grimly.

"Abadar certainly has no love of bandits. Let's hope we have a chance to set right some of the wrongs they have done."

After a good breakfast of porridge he collects his share of the flatbreads and apples for lunch then settles up with the barkeep for his own expenses before packing his gear for the journey.

Aris'ta was up bright and early, making sure her pack was bound tight, that her supplies were accounted for, and that she was ready for the journey ahead. She had made neat her hair and eaten a light meal before donning her gloves and readying herself for the journey. She wears a scale mail armor beneath her cloak, ready for what the day may present.

Her mood this morning is very serious and she seems more vigilant than the day previous and hardly as light-hearted. She is friendly with her new companions, offering a polite hello as she packs some of the food as provisions for later in the day, though she hopes if they've the time they can hunt for a proper bite.

"I am certainly ready to start. The day looks good and the air is clean for the journey."

Cyrus wakes early and before he dons his chain mail, he finds a clearing nearby where he is able to practice his sword and shield forms on his own. He moves through them methodically but elegantly as he was taught by his mentor.

He returns to the inn, preps his gear and dons his armor and then heads down to the main area for breakfast and any final group preparations for departure.

After breakfast you make your way outside to the horses.  Henry and Tib both have good looking horses of their own while Zorah has her ‘Puck’ to ride.  However, there are a number of other horses and ponies in the pens, as well as a selection of well used tack to fit them out with.  There is even a pack pony loaded up with a large tent, camp supplies and rations.

”I think everything we need is already on the pony.” Henry replies to Zorah’s question.

Andalon looked a bit lost when it came to selecting a horse and saddling it up. He looked around and finally decided to ask Zorah for help.

"Would you mind giving me a hand, Zorah? I've ridden a few times before but never had a horse of my own. My family are river merchants, you see. Stable hands always took care of things like saddles and grooming and so on when we needed to hire horses for a day or two."

Zorah's eyes light up like Andalon just handed her a sack of gold coins.  She carefully looks over the animals and chooses one appropriate for Andalon.  Stroking the horse's neck Zorah tosses a blanket on it's back and begins to show Andalon how to properly respect the animal as she grabs a saddle.

Cyrus approaches one of the larger horses, a grey mustang, slowly, letting the horse get used to the idea of him. He places his hand on the horses neck and begins petting it and calming it. He whispers in the horses ear and after a few minutes saddles it and attaches his gear like a seasoned pro.

Before mounting the horse, Cyrus shifts his longsword and its ornate sheath to his belt but keeps his bow and quiver strapped across his shoulder. He hops up and with a quick tug on the reins sets his horse off on a trot.

"I think I will call you shadow," Cyrus declares to the horse so that his traveling companions can also hear.

Aris'ta has a slow approach to the horses. She is careful to look at each horse, running a gloved hand over their coats, speaking softly to a few with a smile to her face. It is a moment before she finds one that she makes a connection with. A black stallion with a beautiful mane who seems a good disposition and seems content with her presence. She has spent some time with horses and is comfortable around them.

Once the horse has been fitted with the necessary equipment and is ready to ride, Aris'ta pulls herself on with grace and leans close to thank the animal in her native tongue. She then grips the reins and awaits the others.

"Fine animals indeed. You have spared nothing, Sir, you have my thanks." she says with a gracious nod towards Henry.

Valoria runs up to the group before the Drover Inn. "Wait!" She stops just short of who she believes to be Lord, de le Maistre. Valoria paused for a moment, almost breathless. The gear on her back looked a bit heavy for her. As Valoria spoke, she stopped a few time to take giant breaths. “Forgive me...but are you Henry de le Maistre?....I need to find my cousin ...I hear he is working for you...Can you take me to him?” Valoria almost doubled over, as she had never ran so hard in her life. Yet she tried to stand properly.

Horses all tacked up an ready to go, Henry is just about to call the off when a young woman comes running along the road calling for you to wait.    Henry looks at her initially with annoyance, but nods when  he realises that she is trying to contact Andalon.  "You'll have to talk as we ride ..." he declares.

Tib prepares a horse for her, and soon the young woman is mounted and ready to go along with the rest of you, although she probably isn’t sure what she is getting herself into.  However, you hardly get very far at all,  three or four hours into your journey towards Nivakta’s Crossing, your first nights stop, when a large dog bursts out of the undergrowth and barking loudly.  You first impressions are that it is a big dog, and that there is a lot of foam around its mouth.  You horse's first impression is that it wants to be a long way away from the nasty dog.



Ride check to stop your horses bolting.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:45, Mon 04 Apr 2016.

She did not know what her cousin, Andalon looked like...or could not remember? She nodded with a smile at the two other ladies who where there, yet her eyes lingered on the drow for a few seconds. She then faced the other three men who where there, trying to figure out which one she was looking for. "I am Valoria der lin Lebeda and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." She then gave a small bow to the group at large. "I am looking for my cousin, Andalon de Lebeda. I have a letter from your father." Once her cousin introduced himself, she handed him the letter. They would then have to continue this talk on the road, as Henry said.

Valoria bowed her to Henry and then to Tib for helping her with the horse. “Thank you, for your kindness.”


She looked back for a few times as the city behind them began to fade away as they journeyed forward.

When the very big dog showed up, a sharp look of fear crossed her face. All she could do was hold on for dear life when her horse decided to bolt. “Stop this crazy thing....helpppppp!”

OOC: 00:58, Today: Valoria der lin Lebeda rolled 8 using 1d20.  Ride check.
Edited. :)
This message was last edited by the player at 18:12, Mon 04 Apr 2016.

Despite his previous training, Cyrus' horse was also spooked.

OOC:  08:21, Today: Cyrus Ondari rolled 9 using 1d20+6.  Ride check.

Correct me if I am wrong but wasn't Andalon just practicing with his crossbow with us?

OOC#1: Yes, yes I was. Valoria didn't introduce herself immediately. Andalon didn't recognise her as he was rather preoccupied with quickly learning everything Zorah was teaching him about horses. [ And the game can move forward quite a long way during the 22-hour period I was away from RPoL. ;o) ]

Andalon was certainly surprised when Valoria finally managed to introduce herself as they all started on their journey. He pocketed the letter without reading it yet as he needed both hands and an ongoing prayer to his god to maintain control of the horse Zorah had kindly chosen for him.

"We'll talk later!" he promised Valoria.

OOC#2: What is the DC for the Ride skill check to stop a horse from bolting? Is it DC20 to Control Mount in Battle? At least Andalon managed the DC5 to Stay in Saddle!

Andalon de Lebeda rolled 13 using 1d20.  Ride check.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:58, Tue 05 Apr 2016.

Aris'ta's mount also takes off unexpectedly, following in the direction of the others. Somehow, she manages to stay in the saddle and grits her teeth as she tightens her hand on the reigns, unable to control the beast as he darts.

Well, this is a fine way to start the morning. she thinks frantically to herself, trying what she can to soothe the animal.

In reply to Andalon de Lebeda (msg # 126):

OOC: From what was written, I don't beleive Valoria is with you? Perhaps you are just ahead?

DM:

Henry looks at her initially with annoyance, but nods when  he realises that she is trying to contact Andalon de Lebeda, who went ahead in the previous group.

This above made me think you were not in sight or around.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:47, Mon 04 Apr 2016.

OOC#2: As a side note, it would seem that Lebedas are not good horsemen. :) Valoria stays in the saddle(DC 5), as her horse also bolts.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:50, Mon 04 Apr 2016.

The horses are all scared by the Dog’s sudden appearance - Henry, Tib and Bart all manage to control their horses by sharp commands and deft manipulation fo the reins, although the pony that Tib is leading is straining hard at the rope, eyes rolling in fear.  Zorah’s puck just seems to dance to one side, and the young druid keeps her seat quite easily, while Andalon manages to get control of his horse fairly quickly.  Cyrus, Arista and Valoria find themselves bouncing around on the back of some very scared horses that are galloping back along the road in the direction they came.

The dog, on the other hand, with bloodshot eyes and a foam covered mouth snarls and closes in on the pony, snapping and biting at it.  However, the terrified pony manages to pull itself out of the way and lashes out feebly with its hooves – missing completely.

Treat this as combat rounds :)
Cyrus, Arista and Valoria – need to control their horses before they can worry about anything else.  Ride DC 10 for control now.

OOC - Should we roll initiative?  Or just wait to post again until everyone else has gone?

Go for your posts -  as a party you lost initiative and were surprised in the first round ...

Generally, I tend to encourage players post in the order they come on-line - if we wait for a initiative sequence we could add days to a combat. So make your post when you are ready, I'll  amalgamate everything into one summation post and react for the baddies, then we start all over again.

After Puck was startled Zorah managed to stay on the mount.  She often treated him like a mule, which was evident from the lack of saddle.  Once the threat of falling from Puck was safely out of sight Zorah dismounted.  She clicked her tongue to grab Puck's attention and flashed three fingers at him to indicate her wish for him to stay put.  Inching closer to the dog with her hands up and out, Zorah attempted to calm the animal before the pony or the dog itself got hurt.


16:54, Today: Zorah rolled 17 using 1d20+13.  handle animal for Puck to stay.
11:57, Today: Zorah rolled 13 using 1d20+5.  wild empathy.
If I don't have time to do all that yet just carry my actions over to the next round.  Seemed like a move and an action, but what do I know?

Valoria grabs on to the reins and does everything in her power to get her horse under control. Much to her amazement, she was able to get the horse in hand. Looking out, Valoria sees one of her new companions trying to calm the large dog.

OOC: 21:32, Today: Valoria der lin Lebeda rolled 15 using 1d20.  Ride check.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:46, Tue 05 Apr 2016.

Andalon slipped one foot out of its stirrup and tried to swing his leg over to dismount as swiftly and smoothly as he had seen skilled horsemen do it in the past. It turned out to be more difficult than he imagined and it took a little longer to clamber down than he expected. Fortunately, he managed to keep hold of the horse's reins in one hand and grabbed his morningstar with the other, ready to fend off the dog if it attacks.

After the initial moment of confusion, Cyrus calmed Shadow and dismounted gracefully as well. Not wanting to alarm the dog, he quietly slid his shield from his back into his offhand and held off on drawing his sword for the moment.

OOC: 08:43, Today: Cyrus Ondari rolled 19 using 1d20+6. Ride.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:59, Tue 05 Apr 2016.

Aris'ta manages finally to calm her horse and urges it back to the others in a slow fashion. Unlike the others, she maintains her place in her saddle for the moment, hesitant to get down. Something about the dogs look troubles her, but she says nothing, not wishing to disturb what Zorah is attempting to do.


<ooc>17:47, Yesterday: Aris'ta rolled 16 using 1d20-1.  Ride check (normal now).
This message was last edited by the player at 02:24, Wed 06 Apr 2016.

Andalon and Cyrus both slide to the ground, grab their weapons and prepare to fight the  strange dog.  Zorah slides down from Puck and reaches out a hand to try and calm the rabid dog down Arista and Valoria  struggle to get their mounts under control.  Bart backs huis horse away, Henry holds his mount with his knees and grabs his short bow,  while Tib releases the Pony and reaches for his own bow.

The pony  bolts away from the Dog, which promptly turns its attentions to the closest, softest target -  Zorah.  However,  the young Druid manages to jump backwards away from the growling dog and its  snapping teeth.

Andalon refuses to let go of the reins, knowing how difficult it would be to catch up to his horse again if it bolts. He drops his morningstar briefly to chant a prayer to Bless and inspire all his companions to quickly put an end to this menace. Then he picks up his morningstar again in case the beast decides to come close enough for him to fight it too.

OOC: Bless on all allies currently within 50 feet gives a +1 morale bonus on attack rolls and on saving throws against fear effects for 10 rounds.

Cyrus eased his sword out of its sheath and then said calmly to Zorah "Zorah, I am going to give you one more chance with the dog here and then I can use the flat of my blade or my shield to try and knock it out, if that's ok with you."

Zorah kept her eyes on the dog, not wanting to lose it's attention.  She calmly spoke to the others in the group.  "It's not responding to me, most likely rabid.  If so, the animal should not be left to infect others."  There was a tinge of sadness to her voice as Zorah voiced her opinion on the dog's fate.  She did not tense or move, but kept ready to defend herself.

(OOC - total defense for +4AC
Knowledge nature check to notice anything about the dog or to make sure it really is rabid?
15:19, Today: Zorah rolled 27 using 1d20+7 ((20)).)

Aris is cautious, reaching for hew bow, though she notes the others appear to have this taken care of. All the same, the dog does not look well and it is best to be prepared.

Valoria noted Henry and Tib were grabbing their bows and the rest of the party was not engaged with the dog, she began to cast her spell. “Don't get to close to it or you may fall down. Taking it out at a distance is best I feel.” With one hand on the reins and the other hand moving in an unusual manner, Valoria summoned thick, slippery grease under the dog. “Deturpant Lubrica!” Once her spell was cast, Valoria moved behind the safety of the group.

OOC: Casting Grease. Dogs needs to make a DC 15 Reflex save or fall.

http://paizo.com/pathfinderRPG...s/grease.html#grease
This message was last edited by the player at 06:22, Thu 07 Apr 2016.

Bart goes to cast a spell, but Andalon and Valoria beat him to it.  As valoria's  layer of thick stick grease appears under the dog's paws, both Tib and Henry let fly with arrows.  Henry's hits the dog in its flank, but Tib's shot is much more effective.  The arrow flies from his longbow and pierces the dogs skull, hard enough that it breaks the bone and almost passes straight through.  While the grease and Henry's shot would probably have rendered the animal safe, Tib's arrow kills the rabid animal on the spot.

"The luck of the gods" Tib acknowledges with a nod towards Andalon.

Valoria smiled as both Henry and Tib seemed to be very good marksmen.  Most of all, none of them got hurt in this first fight. “A fine shot master Tib.” She then took out a silver piece and tossed it to her cousin. “A humble offering. The luck and good fortune of Abadar. Cousin, please continue to pray for our success.” 

OOC: Removing 1 sp from the character sheet. :)

"Good shot!" Andalon exclaims. "And thank you, Cousin. Abadar smiles upon us today!"

He slips the coin into his belt pouch then glances around the surrounding area to check that there are no more rabid dogs nearby.

As Valoria enjoyed the first minor victory they had, a small, Owl poked his head out of her backpack. “Hoo hoo!”  Valoria was quick to reassure her little friend. “It's ok Muninn, all is well now. Go back to sleep.”

Zorah quickly meditated over the death of the animal and the duty the group had performed in the circle of nature.  Then she caught sight of an owl from the corner of her eye.  "Muninn?  He's adorable... He?"  She waited for confirmation from Valoria before continuing.  "I bet Wilson would love a playmate!"  Zorah motioned to a hawk perched on a nearby tree.  "Does he know any tricks?  Oh, sorry.  We can probably talk on the way."  She looked at the other apologetically before calling Puck over to climb on to the horse.

Valoria looked at Zorah with a bit of curiosity. “Thank you. Also, yes, the owl is a he.” As they rode on, she thought about Zorah's question about tricks. “No tricks. Well not what you would expect as a normal set of tricks.” She then paused for a quick moment before continuing. “I am magically bonded to Muninn, we share the same...essence now. We are also linked empathically. So as our emotions are shared we know what each other is feeling at all times. Muninn also helps enhances my own senses, most of all at night.”

"My cousin the witch," Andalon chuckled as he led his horse over to where Valoria and Zorah chatted. "I'm sorry, that's a bit rude of me. I haven't seen you for years, Valoria, but rumours like that have a nasty habit of reaching everyone's ears in a family like ours. How do you prefer to describe your skills, or should I call it your chosen vocation?"

"A witch!"  Zorah said a little too loudly.  "Are you a good witch or a bad witch?  You must be good or one of my friends would be hesitant to come near.  I'm working on teaching Wilson to drop things on targets right now.  I could show you how if you'd like.  We can have Muninn helping out in no time.  I understand what you mean though, I share a bond with Sedgewig.  My mentor told me there may be others eventually, but for now just him."  Hearing his name, a small hedgehog popped his head out of a pouch on the backpack Puck the horse was carrying.  Sedgewig stretched his head to look around before disappearing back inside the backpack.

Andalon frowns.

"She's not really a witch, that's just what my brothers decided to call her," he tells Zorah.

"I think wizardess was what we actually heard. That's right, isn't it Valoria?" he asks his cousin.

Aris'ta listens to the commentary with a smile upon her face. She keeps her hands on the reigns and watches the others as they interact. It's refreshing to see how quickly all can return to rights after such a momentary scare.

"Now that all is settled, are we to move on, or shall we wait?" she questions, her voice insistent, but friendly.

Valoria smiled, but looked a little shocked at how loudly Zorah said the word, witch. “umm, I'm not really a witch....I don't think Muninn would be good at picking up and dropping rocks on people. A bit small for an owl already you see. Plus, he sleeps all day and he is kinda lazy even during the night....You have a cute hedgehog.” She then looked at her cousin and nodded. “Yes, I think the last time I saw you was the last big Lebeda family reunion? As for my vocation, wizard, wizardess or diviner would all do. By the way, where are we headed. Is this a trade route we are on? Perhaps to the river kingdoms?”
This message was last edited by the player at 08:56, Sat 09 Apr 2016.

Once all of the avaians, including Tib's owl (called Ratty) are introduced and the pony recaptured, the party move on.  It is a short stop at the inn in Nivakta's Crossing and then onto Fort Serenko where you have a bit more time to collect your thoughts and get to know each other better.

The fort is basic, but there are troops there, and sheltering walls, so you can set you camp up safely without the need to hunt for wood or set an overnight guard.  Dinner and breakfast comes from the rations on the pony, supported by warm flat bread and porridge provided by the guards.

Henry has a word with the guard commander, showing him a document that he collected from the First Swordlord in Restov.  Later a small detachment of troops, under the command of Sergeant Kesten Garess is assigned to join you on the journey to Oleg's -  as they have been tasked to guard the trading post from bandits.
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:02, Sat 09 Apr 2016.

During the ride, Henry takes to opportunity to explain to Valoria that he is headed into the Stolen Lands with a charter to  explore and map it on behalf of the Swordlords of Restov, albeit with the backing of the Lord Mayor and the rulers of Brevoy.

He adds that she is welcome to come along as part of the expedition, if she wants to.

When they reached the inn in Nivakta's Crossing Andalon finally got a chance to read the letter from his father that Valoria had come so far to deliver. Shortly afterward he spoke to Valoria.

"I am glad that Henry has invited you to join us. That letter from my father asks me to take you with us and look after you while we are away. He didn't explain why but I got the impression there is some tension with your father, so it would be a good idea for you to stay away from the city for a while. So, I hope you will agree to join us."

He also finds an opportunity to ask Henry a question that had been bothering him during the ride.

"Mister de la Maistre, you are our employer and in command of this expedition. In the city I would know how to address you but out here I am not sure. What do you want us to call you during this mission?" he asked.

Once everyone is settled at the inn Zorah finds a good time to seek out Valoria.  With a falconry gauntlet on one arm, she grabs an empty bottle from the ground outside the inn with her other arm.  "I wasn't thinking rocks, more like explosives or acids."

Zorah gives a sharp whistle to grab the hawk's attention before holding the gauntlet arm up.  Wilson lands on Zorah's arm.  She holds up four fingers in front of the bird and clearly issues the command, "bombard".  Wilson takes off, reaching for the bottle in Zorah's other hand.  After a few failed attempts to keep hold of it he lands again.  "We're still working on that part."  Zorah tells Valoria, a bit embarassed.  "If you want me to show you, or try and teach your owl myself I'd be happy to.  It doesn't need to be the same trick.  Either way just ask, I won't be offended if you say no." 

After stabling Shadow, Cyrus finds a small clearing where he runs through his sword forms, this time in armor to better reflect the weight of combat. He practices for a shorter time than he had that morning in an attempt to preserve some energy for the next day.

He'd enjoyed meeting the birds and the journey along the road. He returned to the inn and changed out of his armor for the evening to get proper rest.

"Aris'ta, if you don't mind me asking, how did you make your way to this expedition? I am sure that is quite the story."

Aris'ta turns a casual eye towards Cyrus, a playful smirk covering her lips and she shakes her head. " Not so very interesting, but I suppose that is not the real question you are wishing to ask. " she replies rather bluntly, never bothering to take her eyes from the trail and the sidelines, always on the lookout for what may be least expected.

Valoria thought about Henry's offer and in truth, she was going with them one way or another. If anything, she could claim a share of what would be the prize, if anything. “I accept.” She then listened to her cousin talk about the letter. “I will do what I can to advance your goals and position. For now, I go where you go cousin.”

Later on that day, Valoria watched the display of Zorah's falconry. She was somewhat impressed with how far Zorah had gotten with training, even with the failed attempts. “The work you have done with your hawk is very good. I can tell you put a lot of work into this...falconry art. Sadly, I just don't think Muninn would be suited for such a task.” As it was getting close to sunset,  Valoria took out Muninn so all could see the owl better. The owl was eight inches high and could be no more than five ounces in weight. She then gave Zorah a playful smile. “You see my friend  Zorah, it's a matter of weight ratios. A five ounce bird, can not carry a two pound bottle.”


OOC: If you are curious.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Northern_saw-whet_owl
This message was last edited by the player at 07:03, Mon 11 Apr 2016.

In reply to Aris'ta (msg # 160):

Flushing a bit at the pointed response, Cyrus tried to laugh it off, "Ha, well you have me there. I tried to ask a few questions with one, but I guess direct and to the point might be better in this case. Were you born in the Underdark or above ground? If you were born in the Underdark, how did you escape, I've heard frightful stories of it. Your answers may lead to more questions and if you prefer I stop asking, I will respect your privacy."

Wilson was started and ruffled his feather a bit as Zorah squeeled at the sight of the tiny owl.  "I'm not familiar with this breed.  Is this as large as Muninn will grow?"  The conversation had clearly taken a more academic tone than Zorah's usual exuberance over animals.  She lets Wilson go to perch on the roof as she leans in closer to peer at Muninn.

Valoria continued to smile, but was a little taken aback by Zorah's squeeling. “Umm, yes. This is as big as Muninn will grow, I believe.” Seeing the hawk was perched on a roof, Valoria offered Zorah to take a better look. “Would you like to hold Muninn?” Normally Valoria was very protective of her familiar. Yet, Zorah's excitement and friendly nature made Valoria a bit more trusting. “It's ok Muninn, Zorah is a friend.” The owl looks at Valoria and then back towards Zorah. Muninn looks up at Zorah with a gleam of almost human-like intelligence behind his eyes.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:36, Tue 12 Apr 2016.

Soon everyone is settled in for the evening, Cyrus and Aris'ta are chatting companionably,  Valoria and Zorah discuss Muninn the tiny owl, and Tib watches in interest as he feeds bit of raw meat to his own, much larger owl, Ratty.

Henry strolls with Andalon, "While we are in the field we don't need too much formality, so call me Henry.  After all, chances are that we will likely be living and fighting cheek by jowl for the next few weeks.  When we spoke initially, I think you said your people were merchants in New Steven?  Are they people I would know?  My family's trade is mainly along the land routes between New Stetven and Restov ..."

"Thank you, Henry. I certainly don't mind that sort of informality if you are comfortable with it, although I must admit my training within the church of Abadar had left me expecting you might prefer something like 'captain' or 'commander' or 'sir' or even just 'boss'," Andalon responded.

"The noble house of Lebeda is based in Silverhall near the western end of Lake Reykal. They control a lot of the shipping on the lake and are primarily brokers and merchants linking the north and south of Brevoy, so you probably know some of them quite well. My father's line is related to the Lebedas of Silverhall, of course, but we are based in New Stetven and handle some of the Lebeda trade and distribution within the city itself. We mostly deal with other local merchants and shopkeepers within New Stetven but you may have come across my father, Davide de Lebeda, at some stage."

Zorah tries to hide her excitement so as not to scare the tiny bird.  She gently takes Muninn from Valoria and strokes his feathers.  Catching Wilson's attention Zorah holds a single finger high up in the air and the hawk takes off into the trees.  "You're a clever little thing, aren't you?  You know exactly what I'm saying.  I bet you could learn a trick or two.  Sedgewig could show you how to dance.  It took me a good month to teach him that.  I think Muninn could learn it in a week."

After holding Muninn for a few minutes Wilson returns and drops something in the grass beside Zorah before returning to his tree.  Zorah slowly bends down, trying not to disturb Muninn.  She retrieves a mouse and offers it to the owl.  "Thank you for allowing me to hold you Muninn."

"I think perhaps I'll keep my secrets to myself for a bit longer. I'm sure you and everyone else will know it soon enough. For the time being, find yourself content to know I have lived in the forests for many years and have since decided if I were to remain there, I would go mad. " she speaks bluntly and rather literally, folding and arm across her lap.

"Well we wouldn't want you going mad! I think it is safe to say the forest is sad to lose you."

Cyrus' cheeks had regained their normal color. This one respects deeds above words. She'll talk when she's ready or she won't. That is her choice.

"Did you see any fields large enough for target practice? I have done my sword drills each day but my bow is in need of bending."


OOC: Updated to "sad to lose" in regards to leaving the forest behind
This message was last edited by the player at 07:15, Thu 14 Apr 2016.

"Did you see any targets large enough for me to shoot at? One of my bolts missed a barn last time!" Andalon chuckles.

Valoria listened to the rest of the group as they spoke up about target practice. “I don't really have ranged weapons like that. Well, not of kind at any rate. I am glad the rest of you are so skilled.” With a bow of her head, Valoria then gentle took back Muninn  from Zorah, after he has finished eating the mouse. “My thanks Zorah. Perhaps you would consider tutoring me about nature? You seem to know much about animals at least, what about plants? It would be a great gift to have such knowledge.”
This message was last edited by the player at 20:43, Wed 13 Apr 2016.

A tinge of sadness crossed her face as she gave Muninn back to Valoria.  "My mother taught me a bit about the outdoors before she became ill.  I'm much better with animals than plants, or even people for that matter, but I know the basics.  I can find north, fresh water, that sort of thing.  I'd be happy to show you what I know.  I'm sure there are a few things you could teach me as well.  We could swap ideas."

"Skill is not always necessary to keep one alive. Survival instincts are always a necessity." Aris responds, tying at one of her laces that has become loose. "It is better to hold off on practice. I would hate to lose any arrows out here and one can never be too careful. " she adds, looking around with a sniff.

She pauses and sits more upright. "Come, we should all become better acquainted with one another. "

OOC: I misread your earlier statement about madness so I will momentarily edit that post. That said, I imagine Cyrus feels like he can't win here :)

"We wouldn't want to be wasteful, hopefully we won't need every arrow we carry but I would hate to reach the last one and regret target practice. I am what you might call an open book, I am glad to discuss anything. Where would you like to start?"

"Well, how about starting with where you have come from, what led you to the career you have chosen and where you learned to use those weapons you carry?" Andalon suggested. "Or as much or as little of your story as you wish to share."

"Certainly! I hail from Restov. The Ondari's fought for generations alongside the Aldori Swordlords. My great, great, great-grandfather Donovan Ondari died at the hands of assassins targeting Sirian Aldori. The sword and shield I carry were his." Cyrus paused briefly thinking fondly of his heritage, that fondness was clouded as he began again.

"Since that day, the Ondari's have faltered. Donovan's son and grandson were both warriors but lacked his discipline and commitment. Over time, the Ondari estates dwindled and with them, our voice in the court of Restov was silenced. My father has tried to regain a voice through other means... When I learned of his actions, I demanded Donovan's weapons as my inheritance and left. I will return to Restov when I have restored the honor of the Ondari name."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:17, Thu 14 Apr 2016.

Andalon bowed slightly in acknowledgement of Cyrus's tale.

"A noble quest indeed. I wish you every success," he responded.

"I've made no secret of the fact that my family are merchants in New Stetven, not too far north of here. It was always assumed I would join the family business eventually as well, but as I am the fourth son in my family there was never much chance of inheriting that business in future. My tutor was a young cleric of Abadar and, as merchants, my family has always paid strong devotion to his church, so there was no dissent from my parents when I decided that was to be my vocation. I like to think they are quite proud of me for making that choice, actually. Now Henry's quest seems to sit very well with the Abadaran mission to bring the benefits of law and civilization to the wilderness, so I am here with the church's blessing, too."

He grinned a bit sheepishly as he added, "My equipment doesn't include any family heirlooms, unfortunately. This is basically what I was issued with when I served in the city watch as part of my clerical training. I bought it as used equipment when I completed my training."

"The priesthood is a noble profession. My younger brother had made the same decision until my departure. I have heard he is now at court by my father's side in my stead... You trained with the Watch in New Stetven? I bet you have quite a few stories from those nights!"

The pause between thoughts was prolonged and clearly emotional. Though Cyrus had maintained a cordial presence throughout the end of his story, he was clearly now trying, and failing, to deflect his own attention away from thoughts of his family.

"I'm happy to be in the company of those trained to defend themselves.  My beginnings aren't as grand as yours I'm afraid."  Zorah motions to Cyrus and Andalon.  "As a child I lived in a small cabin at the edge of the forest."  She paused and then backtracked.  "Sorry, the Gronzi Forest.  Back home it's just the forest.  We could hit the Icerime Peaks in a day or so walking.  My father met my mother in the forest.  He stayed in the forest for her and made his living bringing lumber to town from the forest.  I remember my childhood being very happy.  My father always told me a great outlook will carry me a long way."

"My mother took ill a few years ago.  My father went into the forest to fetch some plants to make medicine.  My mother was quite good with that sort of thing, she taught me only a fraction of what she knew.  I'm sorry to say my father never returned.  I still have no clues as to what happened to him, but without the medicine my mother passed away."

"I found Murdock that winter and raising him from a cub kept me occupied.  I was old enough to take care of myself, but still a young girl.  When spring came my mentor found me, I suppose he raised me from a cub so to speak.  He wasn't always straightforward with his teachings or motivations.  One day he was gone and I found a few more friends, Sedgewig, Wilson, and Puck.  When I heard about this mission to the wilderness it sounded like a great opportunity for me to find some interesting creatures."  The smile never faded from her face as Zorah told her story, even through the sadness.  It's clear her positive attitude carries her along in life.

"A strong outlook indeed! Maintaining a smile amidst that kind of loss, it is no wonder these animals adore you... You mentioned a mentor, who was he? What did he teach you?"

Cyrus was impressed with the stories of his traveling companions. A 4th son committed to the faith and out to bring civilization to the wild with a wizard cousin, a young girl who raised herself to some extent, and a drow. Henry had indeed done a fine job recruiting for this mission.

"I'm not really sure who he was, just an elderly elven man.  He showed my how to connect with the animals on a deeper level.  I suppose it's similar to Muninn, but to a lesser extent.  He also showed me a small amount of magic that nature can provide to those who know how to listen to the trees and the animals.  I would guess he was a druid of the forest, but like I said, he was a mysterious man and never spoke much of himself.  I was just happy to have someone helping and teaching me at the time."

"As for my mother.  Of course it was a sad time in my life.  Dwelling on those feelings wouldn't have changed the past.  It was best for me to move past that part of my life."

"It seems to have found a family that travels with you. It must be a great comfort to you, particularly on long journeys and in times of hardship. It is clear how they trust you. A great honor, as animals are often particular in whom they favor. " Aris'ta says, crossing her feet at the ankles and leaning back on her hands. " A rare light in an otherwise dark world, as some are inclined to say. "

"I'm sorry to hear about your parents, Zorah," Andalon responded sympathetically. "That would be very traumatic at any age, let alone while you were still so young. I am glad that your connection with nature, and in particular with Murdock and these other animals, has helped you to deal with your loss. But I am curious about the magic you can draw upon. Do you meditate or pray to a particular deity or to the spirits of nature or is that magic drawn directly from the natural world around you?"
This message was last edited by the player at 06:23, Sat 16 Apr 2016.

Listening to Zorah's tale of woe, Valoria really didn't know what to say. What a terrible thing to happen...She didn't want to be rude by reading her tome at a time when Zorah was speaking of her dead parents. Instead she just sat with Muninn as the thoughts of her own lost home ran through her mind. Perhaps they would all find a new home together in this...stolen land.

Zorah nods her head as Aris'ta speaks of her animals.  "I don't think the light is as rare as we sometimes make it out to be.  We just need to learn how to spot it.  It's easier to find something you surround yourself with, makes it more familiar."  Her apprehension to the drow had begun to disappear having spent some time together.  Zorah knew there were always exceptions, as Aris'ta may be proving to be, but tradition dictated the half-elf to be wary of drow and orcs in particular.

"I suppose my magic is a mix.  I've never really thought about it.  I respect nature and spirits because that's how I was taught as a child.  I do spend time each day in meditation as well.  Where I draw the magic from is unclear.  My mentor wasn't one for prolonged explanations... or really explanations at all."

"Thank you all for your kind words.  Maybe we should hear from the others before I fill an entire book with stories of just my own." 

Next day the group move on, slowed slightly because Keston and his guards are on foot, although their gear is loaded onto the  the long suffering pony and distributed as extra load among your horses, so they march encumbered.  Tib keeps his eyes peeled and manages to bag a rabbit and pigeon along the way.

The next night is spent at an roadside camp-site,   there are signs of a recent fire,  probably from the group that travelled earlier, a small fresh stream and  bushes for firewood. The game is roughly skinned and butchered and added to a pot of water to make a very basic game soup to supplement the dried food for dinner.  Out of all of you, the birds eat best, getting to feast on the innards of both creatures.

Henry assigns a shift roster  but the night passes without incident , and after a breakfast of porridge you are on you way, expecting to make it to Oleg's at about lunchtime, or a bit later.  However, your journey is interrupted, when you see a young man, dressed in yellow and gray robes, standing atop a rock defending himself from a pack of wolves with a bastard sword.

”Is that Moto?” Henry asks rhetorically as he shades his eyes with his hand and looks towards the scene.

"What's a Moto?" Andalon asks.

OOC: How far away are the rock, the wolves and the Moto? Within bow/crossbow range?

"Moto was one of the people with the previous group."  henry responds in a puzzled voice.  "It certainly looks like him ..."

OOC -  You are 500 ft from the wolves.

"It looks like he needs help," Andalon replies. "Whatever his story is, we won't hear it from a corpse. Come on, let's see if we can reach him in time."

He is not enough of a horseman to charge to the rescue but he does his best to persuade his horse to move in the right direction.

Zorah agrees with Andalon.  Even if this isn't the man Henry thinks it is, this man needs help and he hasn't given Zorah any reason to deny him that.  She squeezes Puck with her legs to prod him forward, following behind Andalon.

Cyrus could tell this man was in danger and he too tried to push Shadow forward, but the wolves seemed to be intimidating the horse. He would only advance at a trot.

Valoria looked up at the man, this Kesten Garess as they eat. Still she tried not to judge him to poorly based on what she heard. In truth, her father had done the same and now it was herself that was in exile for knowing about it. Valoria read her tome by the light of the fire and eat the “food” that was provided.

The next day, when the wolves where seen Valoria made sure to stay behind the rest of the group. This was a most dangerous road.

Brother Bartholomew starts chanting softly, calling down the blessing of the Lady of Graves on your heads.  Then he moves towards the rear of the group with Valoria, although he readies his morning star -  just in case..

OOC -  Bless: +1 morale bonus on attack rolls and on saving throws against fear effects.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:59, Wed 20 Apr 2016.

"Come on   ...." Henry shouts, as he kicks his horse into a gallop towards the site of the attack.

Tib pauses for a moment as he considers the range, but decides against missile attack, instead he kicks at his horses sides and urges it into a a gallop behind Henry.

In the distance The figure that you all assume to be Moto, continues to slash with the large sword that he holds in both hands.  he strikes one of the wolves, but another sinks its teeth into his calf, before releasing its hold and withdrawing back out of sword range.

Andalon just keeps on riding, trying to keep up with Henry and Tib.

"What do you know about this Moto fellow?" he calls to Henry as they ride.

Cyrus follows behind Andalon, Henry and Tibs. He draws his sword to be ready to jump down and attack the wolves.

Zorah follows behind the warriors making sure that Murdock and Puck stay out of the focus of the wolves.  When the group is close enough to strike she will dismount and give the command for her animal friends to stay put.

Aris'ta urges the horse into a gallop and follows behind the others. When they are close enough, she too will dismount, draw her bow and take aim to help the traveler.

Henry and Tib drive their horses forward towards the fight, drawing the others along behind them.  Henry shouts something in response to Andalon’s question but the substance of the answer is lost in the wind flying past your ears.  Even Bart and Valoria’s mounts, although their riders keep them towards the rear of the group are drawn along with the mad gallop..

Meanwhile up ahead, Moto bravely swings his sword in a massive - meeting a wolf that leaps towards him  and almost slices the creature in half.  However, as he roars his pleasure (either at effect of his sword blow, or your appearance) another wolf leaps up and seems to knock the sorcerer off balance.  Sword in hand Moto teeters on the edge of his rock ...

OOC -  Make a ride skill check DR 10 to stay in the saddle through this mad ride and get to 250 feet away from Moto.

Aris'ta continues on, holding tightly to her reigns as she continues a mad dash to the rescue.

22:55, Today: Aris'ta rolled 12 using 1d20-1 ((13))

Cyrus and Shadow finally seem to be in sync as he urges the horse to follow close behind Henry and Tib. He watches the man fend off the wolves hopeful he can reach them in time to make a difference.

OOC:  03:47, Today: Cyrus Ondari rolled 23 using 1d20+6.  Ride.

Zorah tries to stay at the back, but Puck has other ideas.  Due to the horse's enthusiasm Zorah struggles to stay on his back.


07:32, Today: Zorah rolled 14 using 1d20 ((14)). ride check, -5 for bareback

edit: Just realized I didn't actually put the -5 into the dice roller, that should be a result of 9.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:31, Thu 21 Apr 2016.

"What was that ...?" Andalon began to ask when he missed Henry's answer to his previous question. Unfortunately, his instinctive reaction of cupping one hand behind his ear to help him hear was probably a mistake.

OOC:  Andalon de Lebeda rolled 6 using 1d20.  Ride check.

For Valoria this was way more riding then she had done in her life. She tried to go at a slower pace, but her horse had other ideas. “Young ladies, who don't know how to ride falling off horses and get their necks broken all the time...It's not unheard of, my young lady”, her father once said...those words now ran through her mind as she began lose her grip. This was going to hurt.

12:28, Today: Valoria der lin Lebeda rolled 1 using 1d20.  Ride check.
Yes, I rolled a fumble....yes I know....I await the fall damage....:P

Moto slips under the assault from the wolf and more of the creatures leap on top of him.

Tib and Aris'ta draws their horse up at about 90 feet from the fight, jump from their horses and shoot arrows into the melee.    While Henry and Cyrus charge into the battle weapons drawn.

Valoria, Anadlalon and Zorah all struggle with the mad ride and drop a bit further back from the others, while Brother Bart  continues to ride easily at the rear, ready to give any assistance they might need.

---

from close up, the wolves all look thin, (they have just survived winter) and are now in one large group tearing at Moto.   Wolf = AC 14
You are all +1 to attack rolls from Brother Bart's spell.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:59, Fri 22 Apr 2016.

Tib's arrow flies straight, impaling a squealing wolf on the shaft, while Henry manages a decent dismount and drives his sword into one of the creatures causing it to snap and snarl at him.

Aris'ta leaps from the horse, but her footing is poor. Her shot flies, but misses it's mark. She curses her skill and reaches for another arrow.

23:23, Today: Aris'ta rolled 11 using 1d20+4 ((7))

Cyrus and shadow charged ahead following closely behind Henry. He hopped down from Shadow with sword and shield drawn and at the ready. Swinging at the wolves, he caught one with the flat of his blade but failed to do any real damage.

OOC:  08:13, Today: Cyrus Ondari rolled 13 using 1d20+8 ((5))

Andalon quickly grabbed the reins again with both hands, braced himself in the saddle with his legs and fought hard just to stay on the horse's back. He was concentrating so hard on the task he had little chance of keeping track of what was happening to anyone else.

OOC: Andalon de Lebeda rolled 15 using 1d20+1.  Dex check DR10.

Knowing Puck better than other horses, Zorah manages to calm him enough to not be thrown.  Unfortunately the horse is still caught up in the commotion and requires more attention to be back in control.



08:45, Today: Zorah rolled 10 using 1d20.  dex check to stay in saddle.

Valoria was barely able to hold on to the reins as she was beginning to fall off the horse. Sweat poured down her brow and she held on to the reins with a death grab, hoping not to fall.

OOC: 13:15, Today: Valoria der lin Lebeda rolled 14 using 1d20.  dex check to stay in saddle.

The wolves turn,  leaving Moto in  a copllapsed heap on the floor, and attack those closest to them.  Two turn on Henry -  one of them leaping at him and getting a huge bite on his arm, while the other nips at a leg.  Another two turn on Cyrus, one managed to find the gaps in his armour, the other misses.

Keston and his men still charge up, on foot,  the road some distance behind you, while Tib shoots his bow again and Henry slashes at the wolves again.

Bart rides around at the rear, helping to calm the horses of those having difficulty.

-----
Tib & Aris'ta are at about 95 feet, the rest of the horsemen at about 150feet, while Keston and his boys are still 250feet away.

All horses are under control again.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:18, Mon 25 Apr 2016.

Cyrus grits through the pain and swipes at a wolf with his longsword catching it mid jump and leaving a bloody gash across the wolfs chest.

OOC:  06:52, Today: Cyrus Ondari rolled 8 using 1d8+4.  Damage.
06:50, Today: Cyrus Ondari rolled 20 using 1d20+8.  Attack wolf.

Andalon glanced around at those near him - Zorah, Valoria and Bart. Seeing they are all still safely on their horses he turns his attention forward again, grits his teeth and urges his horse onward once more.

OOC: Andalon de Lebeda rolled 10 using 1d20.  Ride check.

Amazing. Same roll. Same result.

Aris'ta shakes her head, trying to focus her shot, but there is too much happening and she finds herself unable to make her mark as she fires.

21:10, Today: Aris'ta rolled 11 using 1d20+4.  Attack.

Valoria dismounted her horse now that it was under control. She would be of little help now anyway. She continued to move forward, this time on foot while trying to led the horse by the reins.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:30, Mon 25 Apr 2016.

"Damn it! Henry swears as his thrust misses the wolf that bit him.

Tib's arrow finds it mark again and he walks forward, closing the distance between himself and the wolves, as he casually pulls another arrow from his quiver.

Zorah urges Puck forward with the others.  He doesn't like the looks of those wolves and resists.  Zorah spends the next few precious seconds trying to convince Puck to continue.  "Come on, Puck!  They're a fourth your size.  I promise you can let me off when we get closer."

Tib and Cyrus score strikes on the wolves, while Aris’ta and Henry try, but don’t have any luck.  Andalon gets his horse under control and goes charging in towards the combat, and is now close enough to join in the melee.  Valoria decides to dismount from her horse, and Zorah pleads with Puck to carry her closer to the conflict.    While Keston and his men start beating their swords onto their shields and making a hell of a racket.

And it seems that the battle could have been won already.  The arrival of more enemies combined with the clattering of swords on shields has been enough to scare the animals away.  For a moment they snarl at you, then they turn tail and run, leaving three of their number behind – dead on the floor around the body of Moto.

A little further way lies the body of the horse the sorcerer had been riding.

In reply to DM (msg # 222):

"This one is hurt pretty badly, Johan, can you help?" Cyrus asks standing over the fallen Moto and the wolves. He is glad the others took off as he isn't so sure he wouldn't be on the ground next to this Moto if another wolf took a bite out of him.

Lowering her bow in frustration and snarling a bit, she made her way towards the fallen wolves and man as quickly as she could. It seemed a hopeless endeavor as he didn't appear to be moving, but she was not going to simply leave him there unchecked. " I fear we are too late. " she calls, as she trots over.

Zorah shakes her head at Puck in disappointment. After reaching the others she dismounts and scans the area for any herbs or plants that may be of help to the fallen man or her injured allies.  Zorah had never been taught much in the way of first aid for people, only animals.  The plants used for both were pretty similar though.  Out of the corner of her eye she thought she spotted something useful.



08:11, Today: Zorah rolled 29 using 1d20+9.  survival, searching for medical plants.

Andalon was closer than Johan so he dismounted and hurried over to help with Moto, if he still lives. If he is still alive Andalon will chant the words of a spell to cure some of Moto's wounds and at least stabilise his condition.

Valoria began to walked up to the body, but stopped when she caught good sight of it. She had to turn her head. The body of this, poor Moto was badly torn. She looked off into the distance and waited to see what was to happen next.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:25, Wed 27 Apr 2016.

Before long everyone is gathered around the fallen Moto, but Andalon’s initial inspection  soon confirms Aris’ta's fears, the Sorcerer is dead and beyond healing, as is his horse.

Zorah scans the area looking for herbs that might help promote natural healing and catches sight of a Flayleaf plant that might help suppress pain, but even that won’t help Moto – although it might bring some relief to either Henry or Cyrus. 

A quick investigation  of the body and the horse shows that Moto wasn't a rich man.  There are the normal accoutrements of a travelling sorcerer, backpack, bedroll, water-skin a few days rations, a dagger, pipe and tobacco.  But then a couple of unusual items for a sorcerer , a bastard sword bearing the cypher of House Rogarvia and a whetstone to maintain it.  The horse has little more than a saddle and bridle.

Andalon stood up from his inspection of Moto's body and turned to speak to their employer.

"What do you want us to do with him, Henry? Bury him here or take his body with us for a more formal service when we reach the trading post?" he asked. "I would recommend the latter as it would avoid the delay of digging a grave here and would provide a more easily defined location to tell his next of kin, if he has one."

"Who was this sorcerer who carries such a noble sword?

Andalon, would you mind sharing your curative words with this wound?" Cyrus points to the gash torn in his skin by the wolves.

"He was Moto Trema, a sorcerer in my employment, who should not have been out here alone." Henry says with some concern in his voice.  Then he becomes business like a gain.  "Wrap him in his bedroll and share the pony's load out between us, then it should be able to carry him along to Oleg's for us.  I will be interested to hear from the others  just why one of their number is travelling North alone."

Then, as the adrenalin dies down, Henry leans against the rock, and his voice takes a slightly less commanding tone.  "Keep an eye out for those wolves coming back." He says as he starts to inspect his own wounds.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:38, Wed 27 Apr 2016.

Andalon turns to Cyrus and bows, touching his Golden Key holy symbol to his lips.

"I would not mind at all. First though, there would need to be some agreement on the matter of a donation to the Church of Abadar for such a service. The tenets of our faith, you see, discourage Abadaran clergy from donating healing services free of charge — except those that help overall community and public health, of course. In the heat of battle or to stave off the imminent death of one of you would be a different matter, naturally." He frowns in thought before continuing. "Perhaps now would be a good time to agree on an appropriate arrangement. Might I suggest that it be agreed that a donation of one silver piece per point of healing will be allocated as a donation to the Church of Abadar from whatever valuables we collectively accumulate during the course of our mission? That is a much, much lower rate than you would pay for such a service in any temple in the city and is really just a token of respect for the divine source of that healing."

In reply to Andalon de Lebeda (msg # 232):

Looking down at his wounds and hearing Andalon quibble over a fee for his healing prayers, Cyrus thinks about telling Andalon that a god who charges a fee for healing is no god at all, but an extortionist, but thinks better of it...

"I appreciate your commitment to the tenets of your faith, but had the wolves not fled or had you arrived sooner would you have prayed for my and Henry's healing in the heat of the battle as you say? What difference is there between a prayer then and now? Regarding your fee, would this be in addition to your share of any valuables recovered or in its place? I only ask as I have not demanded a fee for every slash made with my sword nor has Aris'ta for every arrow she looses."

OOC: maybe you should rephrase your fee number to be one based on severity or prayers required as I don't think we would speak of points of damage. Also, I get that your church would ask for someone visiting asking for healing to pay a fee, but I don't think that applies here, if you are going to insist that it does, it should come out of your share of any group treasure.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:39, Wed 27 Apr 2016.

Zorah returns to the others, after a short trek into the overgrowth, holding some narrow rust-colored leaves.  She hands a few to those who have been injured.  "Flayleaf, it will ease pain when the smoke is inhaled, but is probably better left for an evening remedy to help get to sleep.  The side effects may make travel and combat a bit more difficult."

After doing what she can to help with the injured Zorah looks around for any animals.  Maybe one of them saw what happened and could be of help.

Aris'ta leans down, holding a hand before her mouth before moving it out before her, almost as one might blow a kiss without touching of lips and speaks softly "Xal dosst yah y'teni dos ulu l'zik'den'vever d'obokur nelgetha lu'kampi'unin. " then she rises to her feet and looks around her, troubled by the state of current affairs.

Valoria heard the talk of Cyrus and Andalon and tried her best not to look at the body of Moto. “Cousin, Cyrus, if I may be so bold I would like to offer a compromise. I understand the faith my cousin so righteously holds. However, Cyrus also makes a good point about the services that he and all of us give to the group as a whole.”

“Cousin, I will pay for the group as a whole. However, I want a flat rate of one gold piece per battle, which will include healing for every member of our party. This contract is for one month. After one month, we can renegotiate price. Are we agreed?” Valoria smiled and did not mind the cost. She considered it an investment for some good favor among this group and more importantly, from Henry himself. Plus, it stopped Cyrus and Andalon from fighting about something so simple.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:21, Thu 28 Apr 2016.

In reply to Valoria der lin Lebeda (msg # 236):

Cyrus smiles at Valoria's offer and her attempt at keeping the peace, but he isn't entirely satisfied with the suggested outcome as it still reeks of undue compensation. Healing was a valuable service no doubt and he didn't take it lightly, but the way this was approached felt unjust to Cyrus, like the wheeling and dealings of the court he had just left behind.

"That is rather generous of you Valoria, but it doesn't address the broader question I have about reconciling the nature of his service to the group here and the demands of the temple. I will defer to Henry and whatever the group decides but I don't think it is a just demand. Henry, was there any mention of this when you hired our friend here?"

Henry is currently busy, deep in conversation with Brother Bart, who is examining the severe wounds that Henry received.


OOC-   Lots of lovely PC Role Play interaction  possibilities for you guys there.  I would not want to wheel Henry out to resolve every issue that comes up between you guys and take away any RP opportunities from you *evil DM grin*  Any way, most of the time you will be in smaller groups without Henry around -  so you might as well practice now  :)

"Thank you, cousin," Andalon is pleased to accept Valoria's compromise solution. "I believe that would satisfy my religious obligations. But I will endeavour to answer the questions that trouble Cyrus, too."

First, though, Andalon positions himself between Henry and Cyrus (and anyone else who is wounded), making sure there are no wounded-but-not-dead wolves nearby, then holds up his Golden Key holy symbol and channels positive energy, twice, to help to relieve their wounds. (Cures 6hp on both of them and any other living creature within 30 feet who is wounded.) Then he inspects them both to see if more healing is required.

He takes the opportunity to explain in much more detail to Cyrus as well.

"Cyrus, if I had been close enough to cure your wounds or Henry's during the fight, and if that seemed the most productive use of the resources Abadar has granted me today, for example if it looked like that would make a difference to you surviving the fight or not, then it would certainly be in everyone's interest for me to do so and such action would be viewed favourably by the church of Abadar. As it stands now, however, there is no immediate threat and every reason to suppose that you would have ample opportunity to rest and recuperate when we reach the trading post without any divine intervention at all.

"The suggestion that a donation should be made for that service would indeed have involved deduction of that donation from communal funds before profits are shared out among us all but it would certainly not have just gone into my own pocket. It would go to the church of Abadar as part of the tithe that I am required to make as a cleric of that faith. We are expected to earn the money for that tithe ourselves, you see, by our investments or services such as these. But, to be honest, the rate I proposed was really only a token gesture and would not come close to covering the tithe I would be expected to make, so most of that will probably come from my own share of any treasure we might find anyway. Perhaps you have some similar obligation?

"But if the idea of making a donation to my church for such a service offends you too deeply for you to accept the current arrangement I would be quite happy to scribe a scroll of Cure Light Wounds and sell it to you for the normal market price of 25 gold pieces, which you will no doubt realise is only half the price that you would pay for a potion of the same effect. I would even be more than happy to read it for you to bestow that healing upon you at any time after that at no additional cost."

Rubbing his wound that feels completely better, Cyrus says, "Thank you Anadalon. And thank you for the explanation." He takes a breath as if he's trying to decide whether to keep the discussion going, it is clear he is torn, this is not about money to Cyrus, the amount being discussed is trivial in light of the benefit being offered and he sees that, but something about it still seems not quite right.

"Andalon, your healing is a gift, a gift from Abadar and it is your choice and Abadar's how you distribute it. It would have likely taken me a week to recover from the wolves bite, maybe longer if it had not been properly treated and I am in your debt for the healing to say the least, a debt I had thought to pay with my blade and my shield protecting you and the others in our party as long as we are together. Please forgive my ignorance and the questions that it has caused. Valoria, you need not bear the cost on your own. Here, Andalon, take this gold as a token of my appreciation for your healing gift." He hands Andalon a gold piece and then continues speaking.

"I can't help but wonder what would have happened if you hadn't healed me and we'd been set upon by another ambush a few hundred yards down the road, what choice would you have made with regards to healing the two of us and how that would that be weighed by Abadar? Or had your horse not spooked and you had been able to keep up with us, were our wounds severe enough and the danger present enough to justify our healing?" He asks the last question with a bit of a smirk trying to bring some levity to a very serious conversation.

As Andalon the group discuss the blessing of Abadar, and how they should be apportioned, Tib wraps the body in the bedroll while the horses and pony are collected.  Before long the pony’s load is redistributed and the body of Moto and his few meagre belongings are loaded onto the pony.

Then, not long after Andalon and Valoria have made their contract, and the priest is finally able to call down the blessing of Abadar on the party, everyone is fit to continue.

Once back on the road, Henry speaks.

"I have no call on any of you, apart from a contract to help explore and map the lands around Oleg's trading post.  How you manage your skills, blessings and gifts in that service is between you, your gods and your consciences.  I trust that you will all find a suitable compromise that will allow you to work together, for once we have settled into Oleg's you will be working in small groups, without immediate support from myself or my staff.  You will have to find your own ways to work together."

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OOC:  Please use this thread to continue that conversation as you ride towards Oleg's, if you wish.  However, I am also going to open up the next thread to you all, so we can move the game on at the same time.

I am comfortable with you posting in both threads consecutively.

Unable to find any animal friends to converse with, Zorah returns to the group to help load the horses up.  "I'll contribute my share Andalon.  The gods can be as fickle and varied as nature herself.  I'd rather keep in as many good graces as possible.  I'm sure Hedgewig can make enough for my share if we reach some more populated areas.  Folks seem to love his little dance."  Zorah does a quick impersonation of her hedgehog standing on two legs and dancing.  Her hands curled up in front of her and hopping around in a circle.

Aris'ta listens to the conversation with a scowl on her face. It is evident by the look, were anyone paying attention to her closely, that the whole conversation in general is displeasing to her. Though, to be fair, Aris has always had a problem with religion as a matter of principle. "Hard to consider it a "donation" when it is demanded in order to receive anything in return. " she commented mildly to herself, watching as Henry spoke privately with another and turning her head away from the others. "Really more a profession with a fee. "

Still, she rather liked Andalon despite what she considered his twisted views and since she was unsure of the depth of those who were religious, she generally kept her opinions to herself. Having muttered to herself, she was quite capable of now keeping her mouth shut firmly and her demeanor pleasant.

"Thank you Cyrus. Your donation is gratefully received. Although Valoria was the one who proposed the agreement the church would certainly have no objection if someone else, or everyone else, makes that donation instead of her in any particular instance. As for your other questions, perhaps we will never know, but I would be happy to debate them at length with you over a mug of ale or glass of wine sometime."

Aris'ta's quiet comment doesn't upset Andalon at all. He comes from a family of merchants, after all.  He just smiles benignly at her and checks on Henry to make sure his wounds are sufficiently healed so that he should heal completely overnight.

In reply to Aris'ta (msg # 244):

"Perhaps we never will." The evasion of questions struck him as typical for a man of "faith." He walks away from the group and helps gather the wolves bodies. Their fur might make a warm cloak for the winter.

He heard Aris'ta's comments and agreed completely. He waited until they were back underway with the ponies loads distributed and made a point of riding near her and thanking her for saying something. He'd almost grown to believe he was the only one troubled by the nature of Andalon's proposal. It made sense for his cousin to take his side but he'd hoped others might agree with him.