Aphail will mirror Deise movements, from the other side of the road, wood etc.

Usopi walked along, leading the horse and cart. He worried less about being taken by surprise with the knowledge that Lann, Deise, and Aphail were scouting ahead for possible ambushes.

The cart moved slowly up the hill, still shrouded by trees on either side, Lann walked well ahead on the road with Deise and Aphail flanking to either side.

The load was heavy and Mary walked slowly to haul it but the animal did not appear to be straining.

Beside the cart on the left walked Beathan and Caith and on the right Brannon and Uthen.

Usopi walked at its head occasionally chatting amiably with Mary about the passing scenery.

Gat split his time between Deise and Aphail and the wagon, loping along effortlessly.

Brannon looked ahead as the mountains drew closer and across at the rest of the others around the wagon.

" So...you three have been with the Court of Ereworn for a relatively short time but still longer than any of us have known them."

" Any advice, customs or observations you would be willing to share before we walk in there?"

Caith looks up from her conversation on the matter of the appropriate herb to treat infected wounds with Beathan when Brannon speaks, and murmurs "Perhaps talk of this again later?" before politely falling silent to listen to a different sort of lore.



OOC: Just doing the list now, and thank you. :)
Accounting Note in OOC thread.
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:33, Sat 12 Oct 2019.

OOC - Oooh, RETCON!

During the preparation time at the village, Aphail will collect all the lesser fire arrows from everyone (a dozen) as these were not used.  Aphail has purchased 12 new arrows also.  If anyone wants/needs any arrows, he will give some away - so don't buy any more, just ask.

Usopi smiled to himself as he patted Mary gently on the neck. If the newer members of their little group had any suggestions for ceremony he would make note of them, but he assumed that and adventurer turned reluctant king wouldn’t stand to much on formality.

As the day wears on you follow a winding road, heavily marked by the tracks of many horses and the ruts left by wheeled carriages.

After ten miles it leaves Gallows Wood and enters some bleak, sedge covered foothills, the now familiar Grey Hills.

The snow-capped Pagan mountains rise up to the north, and you can see the trail ahead enter into a narrow valley.

OOC: Retcon agogo time then, as Caith will take 3 of those arrows, as she can't always rely on spells to deal with foes, right? :)

Caith wanders either side of the cart during the day of travel, looking for useful plants and signs of wildlife as she goes.

She spends a while chatting with both Beathan and Brannon in turn quietly about herbs and their uses, gathering lore and exchanging that lore of her own she deems fair to teach without breaking her oath.

[Private to Aphail MacRoach: There is a conversation with Alphail last night IC that I have posted in PM to avoid leaving a larger mysterious space in this post.]

[Private to Brannon Darrow: There is a conversation with Brannon today IC that I have posted in PM to avoid leaving a larger mysterious space in this post.]

In reply to Caith Cernach (msg # 869):

Having left the woods unmolested by the denziens of the infamous wood, Deise takes the opportunity to wait for wagon to catch up. Pointing up the valley floor he says, "Not too long now folks. Most of a day with the cart. The King seems like a stout fellow, my advice would be he values plain speech from honest folk. Given all this land has been through, he can take a dim view of sorcerous power. Not your kind Mistress Caith, but a more selfish use, if ya get me. His advisors, other than Strawberry are fighting men. Strawberry, well not sure what he is but there is something there . . ."[Private to Caith Cernach: "Caith, I have a question about plants and herbs. I am looking for some plants that could be mixed and bolied to a paste, the type that when applied to blade or bow would administer a swift death to a foe. Appreciatin' that is the opposite of what you often do, would you be able to help? If my ask offends you, then feel no obligation to me. It's just as we say in my part of the world, 'needs must when the devil rides'. From what we seen, he's a ridin."]

In reply to Caith Cernach (msg # 869):

Beathan spends the day enjoying conversation and the sun on his back. The horrors of the last week dispelled by the more light.

"We'd be sent by the king to track the slaughter of sheep into the hills, but your band just wanders out of the wilderness. So Brannon what caused you, Caith, Aphail & the others on your journey to us in that small village?"
This message was last edited by the player at 08:33, Sun 13 Oct 2019.

Lann walks along, trying to find out as much about Ereworn as possible from the new companions. Having spent a large part of his life dealing with other tribes from a position of strength due to his heritage and training, he realizes that there is much more power and talents in the world beyond his world and resolves to find out more about the new lands. He hopes the knowledge will allow him to interact with the nobles gracefully.

Caith nods slowly and replies "There are sadly many examples of those who have chosen to harm, rather than heal with Artia's gifts." in a knowing tone.

She offers the little she knows, and that only by repute "I had heard the one known as Strawberry is well versed in arcane matters, but if they be an informed scholar, with many sources of lore, or something else into the bargain? That I nay know."

[Private to Deise: "Ye put me in a difficult position, Deise, as a healer, and one who has taken an herbalist's oath. I will tell ye what I would warn anyone who came to me with the plant in their hand, and thought it harmless. Will that suffice? For I would ask to know of a little of your own herblore in return. Fair's fair."]
This message was last edited by the player at 12:24, Sun 13 Oct 2019.

"I've not been witness to any sorcery in my time at the keep. I spent more time with the man than most. He introduced himself as the King's sage. That I do not doubt. I'm not surprised what you've heard and perhaps it makes sense.[Private to Caith Cernach: "I am sorry for that. I spent half a life working in the shadows for pay, many times for evil men. But I told truth when I said my eyes were opened after Lann's healing. My talents, learned in pursuit of evil and revenge can be put to work for good. I make poisons to kill quickly. Everything I have seen since Ceann Caorach leads my to believe that the enemy is powerful and dark. I will use all I can to hasten its demise, as I sense you and your friends  might. My herb lore is to crafting a poison. No more. My other skills are more meditational. The feeling I had as you healed me - skin and tendon knitting - I can do that in my mind. Just takes longer. Ye are an interesting bunch, the four of ye. Lucky we were to meet, so I am sorry and mean not to put you in a dilemma.  ]
This message was last edited by the player at 19:15, Sun 13 Oct 2019.

Brannon grins. "Wandered out of the Wilderness? I suppose that must be how it appears, but we came with the same intent. There has been much unrest at the border between Ereworn and Glissom - and much of it involving dark magic, similar to what we have just witnessed. We have been tasked to investigate it." He pauses, then corrects himself. "Well, I have been tasked. Few among those of who set out are still here. Most of my current travelling companions have come along for their own reasons: duty or loot. But we came here precisely because we heard rumours that the King had posted a bounty on whatever was killing the sheep. A small matter, perhaps, but I am keen to meet this new King, and we were keen to see whether this was related to the problems on the border. We didn't get a definitive answer, but it is certainly similar." His brow clouds. "Something dark is afoot."

"A mysterious sort of person by all accounts, aye, but nay a malevolent one as far I am aware." Caith answers in a pensive tone "Speaks well for their discretion in keeping the King's secrets that so little is known of them away from Ereworn though."

[Private to Deise: "The dilemma is mine own to contend with, and ye are nay the first to put it to me, so I will forgive ye my headache in solving it again. I have spent my own life in the shadows, seeking those who murdered my kin. Of late, there are many strange folk afoot in Glissom that have come from Ereworn, chased out by your King, nay all of them human, and often set on taking up their old habits of making a misery of the lives of those they happen upon."

"Knowing that, I would share what arrow poison lore 'tis known to me, for every poison I know of has a use other than a deadly one, and every master of their craft has their own secrets. In short, what ye know of poisons is still useful to me, but nay in the way it is useful to ye. The tiny bright eyebiters ye flung to confound a foe's sight interest me more, I must admit, as the shades nay liked them at all. For further lore of them I would offer the lore of the herb Wolvesbane as the hunters name it."]

In reply to Caith Cernach (msg # 876):

[Private to Caith Cernach: "Deal. There are many ways to make pellets, most of them are a dangerous alchemy. The surest is to use a rare white powder that turns yellow. We call it The Morning Star. It cannot come in contact with air otherwise it flares. So I keep it in this metal tube with a vegetable oil. Otherways use a silverish salt mixed with charcoal and sheep shit. Its safer than The Morning Star, but cheaper and oess reliable. Thats what I will use next unless I find a trader in exotic powders. But that might attract attention.]
This message was last edited by the player at 22:08, Sun 13 Oct 2019.

You follow a winding road, heavily marked by the tracks of many horses and the ruts left by wheeled carriages.

After ten miles it enters some bleak, barren foothills, the eastern edge of the Grey Hills, devoid of vegetation. Snow-capped mountains rise up to the north, the southern tip of The Pagans that run all the way north through Ereworn, Glissom and Thuland until they meet the Bracks.

The sun has just dipped below the line of the Grey Hills and darkness is beginning to cover the land. From up ahead Deise and Aphail see a momentary glimmer of light from a shadowy opening at the base of a cliff. As they point it out, it comes again. It seems to be a fire.

As the wagon and escorts approach, you see a small campfire burning next to a cave mouth in a cliff ahead of you.


An old balding man invites you to sit with him by the fire.
His eyes are kind, though his face looks tired and worn, as if by great hardship, he pats the heavy leather toolbag by his side and explains he is a carpenter from the coast travelling to the castle to assist with the restoration.

The companions spend the night alongside the old carpenter and nothing troubles their rest, the sun rises in the morning and you can see the road to the castle continues on winding into the mountains. He accompanies you the rest of the way.

After six hours of travel, you find yourselves well amongst the towering peaks of the Pagan Mountains. The road winds up and up, through narrow passes and by the side of steep cliffs.

Soon you see a bleak castle atop a black crag in the middle distance. A track leads to it, passing over an extremely narrow, arched stone bridge and up a steep incline. A gate stands in the crenellated wall facing you.

There are four towers rising from the castle, one at each corner. The two immediately in front are only slightly taller than the surrounding walls and are crenellated
at the top. The tower in the northwest corner is slim and minaret-like with a conical peak. The tower in the northeast corner also has a peak at its top with attic windows set into it.

There is a large iron-bonded, double gate set into the curtain wall immediately in front of
you. The landscape is covered with a thick layer of alpine wildflowers, in which you can see the marks of carriage wheels and hoof-prints leading towards the bridge.

Oddly you can see the old path you are on ends some 20m or so to the right of the bridge but a new path has been rewcently made leading to the bridge.

In reply to GM (msg # 878):

Looking the castle over the companions could see scaffolding and new stone in many places across the exterior and top of the walls and towers.

In reply to Deise (msg # 877):

[Private to Deise: "This is new lore to me, and I thank ye for warning me of it's dangerous secrets. I have heard of a rare ore, found in certain caverns in far off lands known as Oricalcum, that 'tis said to flare into flames and thick smoke in sun's light, but I have nay seen it for myself, so I could nay answer for it being a true tale.

"In fair exchange, as I offered before, I will tell ye a little of the herb called Wolvesbane by hunters, sometimes named Henbane by farmers, and as Death's Hood and Queen Of Poisons to certain folk, including healers."

"By all the lore that I know of 'tis a hardy and long lived plant, a small shrub at it's largest in size, and commonly grows in the dry soil of hills and mountains. It's helm shaped flowers bloom through spring and summer, most often a pretty deep blue or purple in hue. It's roots are the most dangerous part, and used by hunters to make an arrow poison to hunt dangerous predators. I know of it as a healer, as it sparingly used in a tincture for stirring a sluggish heart to beat more strongly, or used in a salve to soothe aching bones."]

Usopi found himself marveling at the surroundings. He imagined what Corbin, Strawberry, the Boar, and all those others lost must have had to do to enter this castle when it was the lair of the corrupted Duke. The bridge itself must have been perilous fo cross, easily defensible by bow and a few stout wodewose. He pondered upon wether the changing path of the road was due to some trap on the original route. He also noticed the wild flowers growing, likely relatively fresh growth, similar to the new greenery sprouting around the countryside.

He patted Mary again and continued forward toward the bridge, keeping his eyes on the high wall where a hail and order to halt was likely to come from.

Edit - for miss-understanding of local geography
This message was last edited by the player at 02:30, Mon 14 Oct 2019.

Caith offers the carpenter a share of the stew she cooks in the evening, seemingly more at ease in a cave by the campfire than she was back at the tavern or the chapel, and chats with him, interested in his work, and any news of the castle's inhabitants.

As always, she keeps the middle watch to greet the moon at her highest zenith, and makes a pottage in the morning, adding some of the dried apples she has been feeding Mary from a flat palmed hand, wise in the ways of horses known to nip the unwary.

The meandering discussion of herb lore continues for a second day of travel, and the herbwife points out several plants useful in healer's work along the roadside to anyone involved in the informal exchange of learned lore. Only the beauty of the mountains seen from so high up silences her for a while, lost in the sight that seemingly stretches forever before her.

Caith's thoughts on the castle are a quietly voiced "A lofty maze of stone to confound any mortal foe, aye, but also one in some need of repair..." then another comment, as she ponders the fork in the road "...Ghost road for a dead Duke, bridge road for a live King, mayhap?"

The closer the cart comes to the castle, the quieter and more watchful she becomes, aware that she is placing much trust in the word of a man newly minted in his royalty.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:14, Mon 14 Oct 2019.

Brannon eyes glitter with tension, or anticipation - or both. "So, we will finally meet King Corbin. I have heard much about him, and the Old Duke. It will be good, at last to make up our own minds." He adds, more quietly. "Let us hope he views us favourably..."

With Lann, Aphail and Deise leading the way across the bridge the wagon climbs the graceful stone arch, the walls are about shoulder height but the view over the edge down into the rocky chasm makes them very glad that Mary is a calm and placid horse.


They come down from the apex towards the iron gates in the castles outer wall....

The gates swing open as you approach, manned by two young men in clean tabbards and quilted armour.

A steep ramp, surrounded by high walls, leads up immediately to your left just inside the gate. It is dressed with a light gravel. A trellis of ivy is set into the east wall just inside the gate.

At the top of the icy ramp you can see a dark alcove, like a crawlspace or tunnel in the stone. Above this opening there is a bas-relief of a scowling, one-eyed Cyclops.

The ramp is about 20m long. There is a wooden door set into the right-hand wall of the enclosed area about 10m up the ramp. You can see a gateway leading off to the north just next to the alcove.

As the companions pull in tighter, Mary pulls the cart up the ramp and turns right through the gateway and along an arched corridor with raised portculli at either end.

The cart clatters into the courtyard of a once-bleak mountain castle. To the north, high towers soar up into the icy night. As Mary comes to rest and the cart settles, you see a number of people have come out to witness you arrival.

Two-storey buildings bound the courtyard on all sides, with towers in the four corners. This area measures some thirty metres square. Low garden beds line the courtyards interior, lush with spring foliage. You can see the low parapet of a well in the centre of the yard.

A broad staircase with an ornate balustrade, four metres wide, leads up to the second floor of the building in the north wall. Two urns have been placed on plinths at the end of the balustrade.

The tower in the northeast corner of the courtyard is five storeys high with a peaked conical roof. Dark apertures are visible high up on the fourth floor.

There are some attic windows set into the conical roof itself. The northwest tower is about half the height of the one in the northeast corner, and has no
windows.

A group of people stand in the courtyard regarding the companions with a mixture of expressions, the dozen or so castle guards scattered about the area, all quite young, have expressions of wonder. The 20 or more servants and craftsmen down tools to watch them with mild interest.

A youngish bearded man in his early thirties dressed in a blue tunic and cloak leans on a barrel near the well and holds a plain gold crown loosely in his right hand, at last minute placing it upon his head.  A younger man in long red robes stood at his side, one side of his face covered by a large winestain birthmark.

Behind these two stood a man whose height dwarfed even Usopis, a broad shaved head over wide shoulders crested with a huge black boar skin, his right hand was covered in a dark maille gauntlet in which was held a leaf headed spear.

A little way from them stood a striking raven haired woman in dark clothing with a large black cat curled about her shoulders, beside her a handsome young man in green.

Approaching from near the entry was a gruff looking man in stripped down plate and maille, and a little nearer stood a red haired girl in simple dress carrying a twisted staff, beside her a friendly looking knight trying unsuccessfully to hide the peach in his fingers.

OOC: Lets move across to the Prelude Thread.