Time passes, and with the purchase of a few supplies for the road, the group are on their way again by mid-morning, following the road from Fairhill and back to its junction with the Tradeway.  The morning mist has burned away, leaving a warm day, with patches of cloud moving lazily across a sky which is mostly clear.

As they reach the Tradeway, they spot a number of horses and wagons moving along it, heading east, towards Bard's Gate.  At closer range, these prove to be a merchant caravan - three heavily laden wagons and their drivers, and ten mounted guards in gleaming mail.  Two more guards, bearing signs of a recent fight, are seated on two of the wagons, alongside the drivers, and two riding horses, perhaps belonging to the injured men, are hitched to the rear of the lead wagon.  Another horseman, this one clad in fine, expensive-looking clothes, and carrying a longsword and small shield, rides alongside the wagons.

As he spots the approaching group, he reins in his mount, and calls out, "Fair day, to you travellers!  If you're bound for Reme, beware.  We fought off bandits on the road a couple of hours ago.  Some were injured, and we slew one, but the rest of the blackguards might be lurking, still, in the woods."

"If Bard's Gate is your goal, then you are welcome to travel with us for as long as you will."
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:05, Wed 11 June 2014.

"If we froggin' hurry, we could probably catch the puttocks !"  Aarnr suggests to his companions, though quietly-ish as he doesn't trust these guardsmen not to steal his idea.

Colwyn waits for a moment, expecting Corian to jump in and point out that that would mean their travelling in the wrong direction, just for the chance to, maybe, fight a few bandits, and would probably result in another night in Fairhill, and more healing.

Then he remembers that Corian has chickened out, and is no longer with the party.  He immediately feels much better.

"I says we leaves the bandits an' 'eads fer the Gate.  The sooner we's gettin' ter where we's goin', the sooner we'll be 'avin' a bit more scratch, an' we can sit roun' drinkin' ale."

"I shall agree with Colwyn," Eilieen primly notes.  "We shall find no shortage of enemies on our path to Rappan Athuk, and I suspect that the frequency of said encounters will increase the closer we come.  If we turn back now, we might never arrive.  The source of this evil is Rappan Athuk - human bandits, goblins, kobolds, all exist because of the lawlessness in the land."

She shakes her head.  "The bandits will likely be long gone, as they have lost men and suffered injuries.  Only a few hours past?  They will have fled to nurse their wounds.  We could search for days and never find them."

That 'frequency' is a bit of a puzzler, but Eilieen paints a rosy picture of more and better bandits, accompanied by goblins and kobolds, so the priest is pleased to take her advice and Rappan Atthuk by way of Orgothan's Steading Bard's Gate it is !

Though truth be told, if she'd instead promised days of untold deprivation, he'd have been equally keen.  Just never tell him it's going to be quiet and uneventful.

Aarnr nods encouragingly, looking to Fergus to see if it's his turn to drive the cart yet.

In the absence of an employer, the group opts for a more democratic method of making decisions.  Thus they find themselves, after a brief discussion, tagging onto the rear of the caravan.

There is one immediate advantage - the ones who can't fit into the cart are able to find places on the wagons.  For now, at least, nobody has to walk.

East of Fairhill, the group soon discover, the road winds across more rugged terrain, twisting this way and that to avoid the steeper forest-clad hills, and to the north the Stoneheart Mountains seem to advance closer and closer, clearly visible through gaps in the trees.

Occasional animal cries reach their ears, but the beasts always seem some way off, doubtless avoiding the road, at least during the daytime.

After a brief pause for a bite to eat around noon, they continue onward.

Shortly after they pass a group travelling the other way, on foot - a priest of Sefagreth, god of trade, and several pilgrims and acolytes with him.  They move off the road as the wagons pass, and the caravan leader, a cloth merchant named Honil, stops to drop a few coins into the offerings box, and to ask for a blessing to help his caravan on its way...

The blessing doesn't seem to work very well.  Three miles further down the road, the lead wagon rolls over a deep rut in the road, and a peg holding one wheel in place breaks, stopping the wagon where it stands...

Aarnr keeps a keen lookout, head turning hopefully every time the wild beasts announce their presence, though his interest flags as none of them dare venture near and he slumps back in his seat besides Fergus, dozing (and thereby adding to the cacaphony of scary noises) and entirely missing the chance meeting with Sefagreth's priest.

But as the lead cart suffers its mishap, Aarnr rouses, snorting in pleasurable anticipation as he sees what's happening. "We didn't fall for the priblin' mammets' tricks last time," he reminds Fergus with a chuckle. "Looks like we're gettin' ourselves another froggin' cart !"  The priest leisurely takes up his new bow, getting ready for when the bandits leap out and start lying.

Colwyn hops down from the second wagon, where he has been dozing since eating a couple of apples, washed down with a little water.  He walks around to look at the lead wagon, with its wheel laying forlornly in the dirt.

"Yer's needin' ter fix that." he pronounces, sagely, "Get some of them there strong boys ter be liftin' the wagon, an a couple more ter be slippin' the wheel back where it's supposed ter be."

Honil nods, "I do believe you're right, old chap."

"Then yer's needin' a bit of wood ter be fixin' it there fer a bit."

"Yes, I know."

"Course it's like as not bein' better with a proper peg ter be 'oldin' it."

"Yes, I know.  I'm certainly lucky to have come across an expert, and at such an opportune moment."  Honil's increasingly sarcastic tone makes little impression on Colwyn, who simply smiles at him.

Erista, in the back of the cart, looks down the line to see what the problem is.  "Eilieen?" she asks.  "Does that thing you did to fix your dress work on wheels, too?"

"Why, yes!" Eilieen sits up straight, grinning.  She's useful again!  "Absolutely!  A fine idea, Erista, a fine idea!  Hold on, gentlemen - there's no need to go haring off into the forest in search of wood to carve!"

Hopping off the wagon (did anyone seriously think she'd walk if she could ride?), the priestess hurries over to where the broken peg lies.  Casting about, she finds the broken pieces.  After a few confused moments where Eilieen struggles to decide how they go together, she fits the broken ends - properly - and runs her fingers over the thin gap between them.

"As with a worn and weary heart," the priestess intones, "may Zadathsa's blessing bring new life to this peg, faithful and true, and heal its fractured whole."

OOC - Casting Mending, which fixes broken wooden objects good as new!  ^_^

Fergus climbs down from the cart and moves up close to Aarnr, looking at the broken wagon.  "Aarnr, I think this might be real.  I don't think it's a trap.  Look."  He nods towards where Eilieen is praying to Zadastha for the peg to be mended.  "Looks like it's really broke."

Eilieen's goddess responds, and the splintered wood knots back together, good as new...

The guards, meanwhile, move in and start struggling to lift the corner of the wagon.  Honil and their injured comrades begin wrestling the wheel onto the axle, without much success.

Colwyn stands nearby, providing useful instructions, none of which seem to help.  A great many of them are, in point of fact, at least somewhat contradictory.  Colwyn is a rogue, not a wainwright.  His expertise in wagon repairs seems limited to irritating the people who are actually performing them.

"Yer knows as if we was 'avin' a mighty wizard, then 'e could be liftin' that bugger up an poppin't the wheel on with jus' a wave of 'is bleedin' 'and."

Honil favours him with a scowl, to which the thief is entirely oblivious.

Having spent the time chasing down and capturing a dragonfly, Ozzy sighs with boredom at the delay. Deciding he should at least do something to help, he goes to stand right in front of the hub, figuring his height allowed the perfect perspective on the whole mounting situation. " Up a little more, ...a little more. Now to the left, no, ...your other left. Now down, over to the left again..." he says helpfully, taking on a supervisory role in hope of some credit in the repairs.

"Gods above," Eilieen mutters.  She looks down at her hands dispiritedly, and vows to purchase a pair of gloves.  "Shift over, gentlemen," the priestess commands, moving to assist with holding up the wagon.

She's not Fergus, but she's not weak, either.  Numerous Zadasthan Priests (and a few Priestesses) can attest to this fact.  Often-times by pointing out scars.