"Congratulations, Iron Fist!" Sargent Thrasher roared the next morning. "You made it through basic training! The ship sails later today, so you've got a few hours to get your gear from the Quartermaster!"


The group wasn't woken up until 9am, but after that, Thrasher hustles everyone over to the Quartermaster.

"So, is there any gear you think you'll need for your mission?" the Quartermaster asks.

At daybreak, Danyka groggily rubbed her neck and shoulders, trying to roll and stretch them as she sat up in the bed.  She winced slightly, as the toll from the past couple of days seemed to catch up to her.  Even though she was a healer, the young Llaelese woman was obviously not immune to pain.

Rather stiffly, the Rhynnish initiate of Morrow knelt at the foot of her bed and offered morning matins to Lord of Light.  She needed to pray for her spells, before the rest of the day began.  And with Morrow, who was the Power and Light, that usually meant being up at the crack of dawn.  A small price to pay to be able to heal.

Of course, that also meant that once she was done, Danyka crawled back into bed to take a cat nap - even if it was only for another thirty minutes or an hour of sleep.

Getting up the second time was easier - even if it was still painful.  She pulled on her clothes fairly quickly and then slipped on her boots.  Pack in hand, Danyka rushed out the door at the sergeant's beckoning, pulling her ponytail into shape even as her tricorne hat found its way onto her head.

Dany was still trying to work a kink out of her left shoulder when the call came for supplies.  She stepped forward as she tried to surreptitiously survey the packed stockroom behind the quartermaster.  "Q," she piped up, "is there a limit to amount of equipment that we have been alloted?  And is there a standard survival kit that is being allocated for each of us already?"  The tall brunette looked thoughtful for a moment, before adding, "And what about a group allotment?  And our mounts?  Since we will be far from home - and definitely far away from here, we will need plenty supplies, both non-consumable and consumables - especially ammunition..."  She brushed on side of her buff coat past the holster on her hip exposing the long pistol housed there for emphasis on her request.   "Or have will we be required to craft our own ammunition?" she prompted, adding, "And if so, exactly how much raw materials are we being allocated?"

She had already returned the spare pistols that she had taken with her to the village, but had forgotten to ask about getting another tanglefoot bag.  So, she did that last, "Oh, and Q, I used up my last tanglefoot bag a few days back in the village.  What do I need to do to get a replacement?"

[OOC:  How much detail do you want, GM?  Will we have to specify everything?  Flint and steel?  Days of feed and rations, &c.?  Ammunition making kits and such?  What about spare weapon allocations?]

"Coal," Rrger says without thinking, "And spare parts." After a second's thought he adds, "Defensive magic, like shield or mage armor. Something to help communicate with the natves like tongues or comprehend language, and if possible some kind of offensive spell like scorching ray...Well need arcane accumulators for them, and some spares as well.  Whatever you have, really. I'll try and purchase the rest out in town.

Do corpses feel this way when rigor mortis befall them? was a strange and stupid question that lurked Nicollo's thinking as he made her way to the Quartermaster. He was feeling pretty stiff, and he was starting to doubt the tiredness would ever go away.

He saw that Danyka and Rrger had already made their requests and questions to the Quartermaster, but he was having a hard time thinking. It was as if the lack of energy from his muscles had spread to his brain like a disease, or if his mental concentration was being drained in order to harmonize with his stamina and breath. Anyway, there were some simple things that he wouldn't miss, so he added his list to the sum of it.

"Some of my requests are the some as the lady's, but I'd like to add some things more. Apart from ammunition and rations, I'd like a few more meters of rope and a grappling hook, if there's any. Also, if there's something like a blank book in stock, I could well make a diary of our findings. And food for the horses, too." As soon as he started talking, he felt as if his gears had vanquished the inertia and started moving again... "Also, I don't happen to carry a tent. Do any of you have, or should we request it also?"

Creswick walked with everyone to the Quarter master, not entirely sure how well everyone was feeling, but clearly multiple people have taken to this training with gusto.

He stood and listened as everyone mentioned the items one after another. Until finally, it occured to him that while all of this stuff was good and well, we had no means of carrying it all.

"By chance, do you have anything we can use to actually convey this stuff? At the moment we are looking at carrying as much as will prove helpful, but if we can't carry it all with us then there is no point in taking it at all. If anyone knows of some form of magical bag or something that we can use, that would be of much assistance"

OOC

I can't remember what the Bag of Holding is called in IK. But I believe it was an item of the level of low level artifacts. Could be wrong though.

Everyone is issued the following 'standard' gear:

Duffle Bag
Backpack with frame
Two changes of clothes (nondescript semi-uniform looking)
Bedroll
Cooking pots & utensils
One-man tent
100 feet of silk rope with folding grappling hook
folding knife
flintstriker
goggles
pocket watch
2 smoke grenades
five days of trail rations


Optional:
Military pistol
500 rounds (bullet and powder)
Ammunition bandolier
Collapsible baton


The individual tents are designed in such a way that they can be combined into a two-man tent or a four-man tent, possibly even larger.

If anyone wants to take their horse on the ocean voyage, provisions are made. Not only is grain and hay provided for the horses, but a special flotation harness will be fitted around each horse.


Dany is given two new tanglefoot bags.
Nicollo is given two blank books in protective waterproof leather pouches.


Coal and ammunition-making equipment will be on the ship.
There's no magic available, but a few small arcane accumulators are provided.

"Any chance for a bag of chalk and bandages? Also an ink pot and well would be appreciated" Says Creswick as they are collecting the gear, thinking of his Tome that he has been slowly updating.

I'll go and see what magik I can get in town, but can I be issued an equipment mount and a buzz saw for my 'jack? He was ok in the last fight but I think he could be a lot better if he were armed.

Marco rummages through the issued pack, examining the various contents.  When questioned about equipment, he shrugs easily and gives his crooked smile.  "I think I can muddle through with what I've got.  So long as we're bringing along plenty of food and things that go bang, I expect we'll be fine."

Danyka took all of the items that were allocated and offered to her: the standard kit, the extra weapons and ammunition, the tanglefoot bags, and the feed and flotation device for Argus.  Obviously, she intended to take her mount with her on their journey.  She thanked the quartermaster and set to work sorting and itemizing everything.

Dany meticulously repacked all of the items that would fit, except for the tanglefoot bags, into the external frame backpack and duffel bag provided.  Then she slipped the two tanglefoot bags into a side pocket, shifted a number of items from the main compartment of her own backpack into the side pockets and started to ease the duffel and then the backpack into the large pocket of her well-worn leather pack.  With a bit of jostling and a little bit of pressure, both bags disappeared into the space provided.

That left her with the horse supplies, the tent and the large cache of ammunition to take care of.  She first tested their weight and the frowned; it was all too heavy for her manage on her own - or at least without aid.  Danyka glanced at the quartermaster and then requested a wheelbarrow to help cart all of the objects away.  After loading those items onto the conveyance, Dany appeared ready to make her way to the wagons.

And then, presumably, onwards to the ship...

Nicollo took all his assigned gear, thanked the quartermaster and went out to prepare himself. He had already packed everything since his second training day, when it became apparent he wouldn't need any of his trinkets while on camp, and until the voyage. Yet, he had to unpack and start it all again. He didn't expect to be assigned such volume of equipment, so he would need to balance the weight.

After arranging most of the things, he carried all the baggage to the stables, where he equipped Jester with his sacks and adjusted the traveling packs on the animal's back. He was glad to remember that Jester was a real Ordic horse. The creature wasn't particularly strong or fast, not even brave, but he could stand travel by sea better than most mounts. It wouldn't be pleasant, but he would endure... maybe even support the other horses in not panicking.

Nicollo could still remember the time when his older brother told him the routes by which the horse change to their family's land, sailing rivers at least half the trip.

Remembering what he once thought as his home brought a bad taste to his mouth, and he sent the remembrance away by thinking on other's misery.

Some moments later, he found himself walking beside Jester trying to catch up with Danyka. The girl had left just before him, but he managed to overcome the distance. He seemed more serious and yet more natural when he suddenly addressed her:
"I wanted to talk to you, Danyka. Sorry if I'm being intrusive, but I ought to say it."

He caught his breath, cleared his throat and said: "Since the celebration at the village, when the others explained what was it that made the Mauler crash that way, I feared one thing that you confirmed the next day at the camp. No one is to blame for Arshalon's death, except maybe himself."

He thought that maybe he just sounded too harsh, so he quickly added on: "No one's responsible for another's actions or fate, and he was the one that jumped into it. He went on with his crazy plan knowing too well what could happen. It was not your fault on throwing the bag, as well as it was not mine not going along with his foolishness. You probably saved some of us... most certainly you, and that crazy fool, saved me and my Jester, and none of us had the presence of mind to thank you until now."

"Look, I'm not trying to pretend I understand you, and probably I don't. I also don't want do deny or be insensitive to how you feel about this whole endeavor, it's just... the thing is, we are going to an unknown place, to do a dangerous deal. We may end up dead. And... damn, if I end up dead, I'd want someone to know how I feel about it. I wouldn't want anyone to blame themselves. It's not a matter of fault. That's it. I... I won't bother you no more."

And he started getting ahead, towards the ship.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:57, Thu 27 Feb 2014.

Danyka was smiled gently, if slightly remotely, to the Ordic gun mage as he hailed, and then caught up, to her.  She slowed slightly to close the gap, but continued to walk along side Argus one hand on the reins and the other on the light warhorse's withers.

When the dark-haired Thurian gentleman started broached the topic of Arshalon's death, Dany listened quietly to what he had to say.  Her jet black ponytail bobbed slightly as she walked, its slow deliberate swish indicating that she had cast more than one sidelong glance at Nicollo at various points.  The Llaelese woman let him have his say, merely walking along side.  It wasn't that she wasn't receptive or listening.  Quite the opposite, Danyka's demeanor - the way she held her head, and the deliberated and slow movements of her hands - showed that everything was registering.

When Nicollo started to pull away, Dany let him.  But only for a brief moment, she deliberately quickened her pace to catch up with him.  "Thank you, Nicollo." the raven-haired woman said quietly and thoughtfully in her Llaelese lilt, "Your words are greatly appreciated."

She paused for a moment, obviously measuring her words, "I ... I know that no one else is responsible for Arshalon's death, but himself.  And that Morrow looks after him in the Ur-Caen."  Her eyes were downcast for a moment silent homily to the Lord of Light before she continued, "But I still must bemoan the loss of a comrade.  It seems a heavy price to pay.  Especially for a 'training exercise', one casualty seems one too many."  She pursed her lips, "At least, to me."  Her eyes remained locked forward for the time being, as she spoke with brutal frankness, "My throw was pure luck.  His stand was pure unluck.  The two rarely mix well."

But then she did look at her Thurian companion.  "I know that the Fist is a 'dead end' squad." Danyka stated rather flatly, "And while I don't presume to know if you volunteered or not, I do know that the attrition rate is expected to be high.  That we are considered expendable - or we wouldn't be here."  She left unsaid, but it was obviously implied that Dany neither volunteered nor did she harbor many illusions about her chances of successfully returning to Immoren intact.

"But that doesn't mean," and there was only the barest touch of acid in her voice, "that we'll go down without a fight."  Her thin frame shuddered slightly as she took in a deep breath and her gaze returned to the long road ahead.  When she spoke again, it was apparent that she wasn't advocating desertion or mutiny; yet, there was a hard edge to her voice that indicated her dissatisfaction with the overall situation.  "The entire squad should meet to discuss our options.  Our tactics." Dany noted simply with a workman's attitude, "We'll need to work better as a team.  And to coordinate our future efforts."

Her expression grew distant for a moment and her husky contralto was lowered to a bare whisper, "We'll need to be prepared for the coming storm."  She shook her head, as if to clear some cobwebs, before continuing, "Or I suspect that we will all die next time."
This message was last edited by the player at 07:11, Thu 08 Jan 2015.

Viktor carefully looked over his issued gear, sorting it out, and putting it into piles. He handed back the the goggles and the baton as he didn't like them, but he would keep the rest.

"Da, is good" he said approvingly. "But I also require a copy of Ascendant Corben's Amazing Elixirs and Cure-Alls, and small blank book so I kan be takink of notes. Maybe I find new plants is interest. And I is need supply of Corben's cures, or supply of blackroot and bitterleaf and ingredients so kan make own. Pistol is good, I think you, but I need ammunition and charges for Vanar Liberator rifle."