Alisa smiled, when he rattled off Domitius' accomplishments, "Aye, he has done all of that, and more.  I'm rather proud, I have to confess."     But she also listened intently to what Cass said regarding himself, and was quiet a short time after.  and then replied:

"Well, it sounds like you're being completely honest, which is itself a strength.  And honest men usually don't make the best politicians," she added with a smile.

"I respect the Aldori code and ways, though I don't practice it myself.  It's one kind of honorable approach toward life, but far from the only one.   And if dueling isn't your forte,  I say 'so what?'  Unless it's really what you want to devote yourself to, then I'd say it's no great matter."   She paused.

"How many business interests have you started, Cass?  I recall seeing a list that's too long to remember.   How many jobs do they provide?  And how many families are fed by them?   How many happy memories are your businesses a part of?  Including of course Dom's and my wedding reception.   Bettering and touching people's lives with those things is far more worthy and noble than being a politician."

 Like many good river-going vessels, the ferry has a bilge underneath the main deck and said bilge is an odoriferous location from which there is no earthly reason for anyone to emerge...  And so of course, a good few hours after he could possibly have found himself down there, Vova doMedvyed emerges from the bailing-hatch in the middle of the ferry with an unsteady swaying stride then makes his way over to the port railing with a reflexively polite "Excuse me." before noisily and - with apparent relief - emptying the contents of his stomach over the side.

Cass did laugh a little this time. It was a good natured one and not cynical at all. “I do like to help people get what they want. Or as close to it as can be negotiated. And it is fun to see progress in different areas.” Cass looked a little wistful. “Prosperity for all. It is a dream to hold onto.”

“I do wish you and Dom the fullness of joy together. It is rare for one to find their soulmate.”

Cass watched as Vova doMedvyed burst onto the scene and his gorge emptied over the ferry’s railing. “Trying a new batch of hooch, Vova?” Cass may have had similar problems once or twice before in his life.

OOC:  Directly and indirectly , Cass's business supports about 725 people.

Among there are (something like)  25 warriors, 12 (or so) Experts, an Adept or two and (perhaps) 50 or 60 commoners.  Perhaps 100 direct employees.

The rest are made up of suppliers - brewers, distillers, winemakers - even a few carpenters (replace broken furniture) and other craftsmen.  Most, of course, are the common farmers, smallholders and labourers that provide food, clotes and other services (such as laundry)  to the business.

And, don't forget, they also feed and clothe the casual labourers (Etc etc) as well.

Think BIG pyramid .....

Alisa smiled, sensing that perhaps she'd redirected Cass' focus where it should be.

"Prosperity for all -- hm, quite a good mission statement, I'd say."

She nodded as regards Domitius; "Yes, I got lucky, for certain."

She looked askance at the stricken Vova:  "Oh dear!"   As a new mother of twins, she'd dealt with no little regurgitation, these last few months.  Cuter, when it was a baby, however...

With the arrival of that fellow minor-Medvyed, she cast an eye about, to see if the peacock was present as well...

Dom strode on to the ferry just before it left, he was dressed for travel but with his armour on and sword on his hip.  "Sorry love, urgent message from work kept me bus8erbthan I thought." he said to Alisa as he gave her a kiss on the cheek.  "Lord Mordane, it's good to see you again Cass."

Later as Vova made his dramatic experience Dom smiled fondly but held his council to himself.

 Vic is indeed present, having spent a fair portion of the trip perched in his almighty splendour atop one of the small pennant-masts, where his magnificent tail (furled) could simply be mistaken for another of the coloured strips of cloth that delineate destinations for the benefit of those in need of conveyance... He seems generally unimpressed by the proceedings taking place below him, but since Vic is (by now) generally understood to stand for 'Vicious Bastard' that's no great surprise to anyone.

 Vova meanwhile splashes his face with river-water (which has been cleaned of his recent exertions by the course of their vessel) then lifts himself up with a staggered quality, wiping his mouth before beaming up at the sun with a happy air. A lurch upwards is assayed, rejected and then spontaneously ventured before he arises, arms windmilling slightly to fix the others with the happy, innocent smile of a man for whom consequences can always be a tomorrow problem.

 "Not exactly hooch... Did you know that Kobolds make wine? And they shave gemstones into it for flavour? Something, something mushrooms?" he happily reports, swaying flawlessly with the motion of the boat for a few moments until the fact that everything's steady strikes him and - finding that odd - he looks down, followed by looking around and then declaring, with audible concern "I'm on a boat!"

Alisa smiled, "Glad to have you join us, my lord-husband. You are one of the busiest men in Tusk, so I gathered it was something like that."   

She slipped her hand into Dom's, and then cast her eyes upward, toward the pennant-masts, where she spotted the perching peacock. Who possessed a gaze that might daunt Lamashtu herself...

"Indeed you are, sir," she answered Vova. "A boat is the nearest thing to dreams that hands have ever made, so I've read. Though, it sounds like kobold wine might be good for some really strange ones."   

“Lord Aldori-Solanus,” Cass gave an appropriate bow. “It is good to be in your company again as well, Dom.”

Cass turned to grin at Vova again. What could he say? He liked those who took life by the horns. “I might have to experiment with mushrooms when I get around to doing my own distilling and brewing, but I think that I will leave the gem shavings alone. As well as anything crafted by the kobolds.”

Cass cast about for the skin he carried that housed only water. He offered it toward Vova. “Might a little water help? I don’t happen to have any other remedies to hand.”
This message was last edited by the player at 04:02, Sun 31 July 2022.

Once Vova appeared from the bilges, the captain  called a couple of crewmen to throw him over board, but then called them back when he realised that t he was known to all of the important people on his boat.  And it wasn’t his job to interfere with the Lord mayor of Tusk, and his friends.  There were a couple of other passengers, one looked like a fishermen, the other a small-time merchant, made their way to the very front of the boat and stayed well out of the way of the VIPs and their  antics, although they had bowed and doffed their hats most respectfully when they had come aboard.

The trip across the lake takes about 3 hours, first in the busy waters around tusk – small boats close to the shore, fishing boats a bit further out and then the sight of a V&A Keeler making its way back from Mivon.  As you approach  Reedham, you see the local ‘fleet’, - a single fishing boat a couple of miles out to see, then a local patrol boat, rowing along the coast about half a mile from town – and finally a couple of row boats, working the reed beds.

As the shallop heaves into sight, a few people start to gather around the jetty ready to help with the unloading, but they all stand back respectfully when they see that there is a party of nobles ready to disembark.  A couple of adults bend down to speak to children and you suspect the conversation goes along the lines of  ’That is the Lord Mayor’ and ‘That is the renowned Swordlord, Domitious Solanus’  or even ‘behave now and just stay out of sight’.  The village is small, little more than the jetty, a watch tower for the guard, a graveyard dedicated to Pharasma, and a small inn called The Flying Fish.  A few huts and small cottages complete the village.

It is midafternoon, by the time you get off the boat and get your bearings, probably not enough time to find the swamp witch and get back to the village before it gets dark.

 Over the couple of months that Vova DoMedvyed has been building a reputation as the premier party animal of the Stolen Lands, Vic has been similarly developing one as the kind of bad news that most people would try and exorcise rather than establish a familiar bond with.

 Quite what's going on there is anyone's guess, but since it involves Vova, it's probably nothing anyone should be losing sleep over.

 "Oh, I wouldn't know, I was rather drunk at the time." Vova answers - although who he's answering is a little vague - and he doesn't even seem to notice taking the wineskin when it's offered, with the nipple of it at his lips well before he registers what's in it. That does generate a slightly outraged squawk from the lush who then eyes the skin as though it has personally offended him before offering it back in the general direction of... people... and blinking a few times before visibly perking up and pointing (his finger swaying in a fashion that the motion of the boat cannot entirely explain) "Oooh, there's the Flying Fish! Don't believe anything the barmaid tells you, it could have happened to anyone."

Alisa smiled playfully at Vova, "Well, I don't know. Our cousin Kiera - a very savvy lady - and herself the owner of a fine tavern, tells me you should always listen to the barmaid." 

She turned to regard the nearby establishment, and said to Dom as well as the other two,  "We'll be parking here, for the evening, so it would seem?" 
This message was last edited by the player at 20:35, Tue 02 Aug 2022.

“No need to go mucking about at night.” Cass agreed. <table>“A good night’s sleep and we can start fresh in the morning. I have to say, I am most intrigued by the idea of constructs. I wouldn’t mind an army of golems to defend Silverton.”</table>


Not that he’d have enough coin for an entire army of golems. As much as he was invested in business ventures, Cass did not usually keep much in the way of personal funding. Oh, he never did without a meal or a place to sleep, but he wasn’t exactly out buying the finest of jewelry to give out like baubles either. But who knew how things could change? And even just one golem guard would be a treasure indeed. But he may be entirely wrong about the kind of constructs involved and may be looking at something more along the lines of those wondrous bathing tubs of which he still needed to put in an order for one.

 "Not at all, you should always be polite to the barmaid. Or at least charming. Or failing that, generous." Vova corrects merrily, swaying a little on his way towards the gangplank, which transition takes him from moving in perfect unison with the swell of the lake to swaying alarmingly as if the land is in motion beneath him (which suggests that he's either been on the water for a while in one form or another or is just that drunk).

 Vic meanwhile, glides down from the mast and gives a singularly evil glare at one of the local cockerels which is pecking at the dirt and which - after a long, mutual staring match - thinks better of its place when Vic uses the two-inch steel blade affixed to his spurs (which Vova has no memory of purchasing or fitting) to drag a line through the dirt.

 Vova meanwhile heads more or less right towards the bar. Then left a bit. Then right a bit more. Hooray!

"You'll have to tell us more about these constructs, and their possible uses," said Alisa to Cass.

"I fear my own knowledge extends little beyond certain fables, where one goes crazy, runs amok, and some beleaguered hero has to put it down in a pitched battle."    She placed a hand on Dom's arm, in humor.  "And my husband's busy enough, as it is, without anything like that."   

She glanced again toward the peacock --  feeling certain there was some unusual tale attached to this bird, who had the bearing and air of an archfiend...

"Well," she said to Domitius, "shall we go get our room, then?"   

"Of course love, hopefully we won't have to share."  Dom replied with a smile "It's not often we get to be alone without the children any more." and gave her a wink.

"As for the golems I'm wondering if she could use some of our statues and animate them a couple of guardians for the household could come in handy, especially if we are both away.

The Flying Fish is probably bigger than a fishing village, like Reedham, would normally be able to support, although even then it is more reminiscent of the Road Houses that you would expect to along inland trade routes, so perhaps it is the ferry port that brings in the extra business, who can say.

Inside there is a single common room, with table service provides from a hatch in the wall, which you assume leads to a kitchen and store room.  A small lad, of obvious orcish extraction and probably about eight years old, is desperately clearing tables - while an older half-orc with an apron around his waist, waits for you.  Guiding you to the biggest of the tables, with the best padded seats, and shouting at the boy to fetch a jug of water for the 'nice people'.

It doesn't take long, nor any complicated questions, for him to tell you that his daughter, Helga, works for Lord Henry and sails a boat.  She owns The Flying Fish, and when she is home she works the bar or goes out fishing like any good owner should. He, Dura, came from Pitax to run the inn for her.   The boy, Hix, is his grandson, and is learning the trade.

The rooms were ready for guests anyway, although they aren't really meant for Lords and nobles who aren't travelling incognito.  Each small room holds a pair of bunk beds and c could sleep 4 people, although he offers all three of the rooms to you.  There isn't much else in the rooms, just a simple table, with a bowl and ewer for washing water, and a series of pegs for clothes, on the walls.  However, there is plenty of room under the bunks for small travelling trunks, backpacks or the new valise type bags that are becoming popular.

Dinner is freshly caught fish, that has obviously been grilled over an open fire, accompanied by a bed of mixed  mashed up root  vegetables - or various types.  It is competently cooked, but it isn't a patch on the food that you would expect in even a simple city inn.  There is a local ale to drink, as well as a few bottles of poacher's Pale from the Roth's brewery in Tusk, as well as a basic rose table wine (which you think is based on plums and other fruits, rather than grapes). However, there are no fancier wines nor any spirits available for sale.  He apologizes profusely, but says that Helga says that she won't have stuff that she can't sell from behind the bar.

You are left to your own devices in the tavern, as none of the locals come into the common room during the evening - just Dura and Hix as they serve you.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:23, Mon 08 Aug 2022.

Dom had happily eaten ginner, it may not have been the best meal but it was better than his own attempts at cooking.  There was something to be said for having servants he thought to himself, now if only I could get an item that provides meals from hom everyday.  Content he sat back with an ale and smiled.

"Well my friends it might not be up to your standards at the Mithral Cass but it is beeter than anything I can cook... well burn.

“Oh, I think it is a fine establishment.” Cass said for Dura’s benefit as much as in response to Dom. “Not every meal you find is fit to eat, nor every bed fit to sleep in, despite some of the ridiculous prices asked in many places. The food here is hot, filling, and tasty and the rooms more than serviceable. I would be glad to recommend the establishment to any of my peers.”

Cass took another sip of his Poacher’s Pale Ale. “I serve this particular brand in all of my establishments as well. A good brew. And I am thankful to have others do the cooking for me at every chance as I have a tendency to burn things too.”

Naturally, she intended that Domitius and herself would have a room together, unless lack of vacancies prohibited that.

"My aunt is an extremely good cook.  She taught me, though there were always other things I was more interested, or wrapped up, in.  Hopefully, I can hold my own.  But I'll never be near her mark."

As to the place: "This is fine," she agreed.   "And by the Spear, did you both hear that?  This is Helga's family!"   

Domitius, Cass, and herself were all half-elves.   The relatively lucky half-breeds.  Her own mixed blood had brought challenges, particularly being of the Spire blood.  But she knew well the orcish faced bigger ones.  She was always glad when she saw a family that prospered, like this one, in spite of it.

Dom and Alisa are shown to one of the rooms, while Cass and Vova get one each.  Vic, the peacock, is given a wary eye by Dura, but the half-orc knows enough not to issue warnings or admonitions about familiars and other such creature.  Those who own them, or who are owned by them, tend to be tough customers, and it is easier to clean up afterwards - or just bill for damages.

The rooms are basic, and aren't up to the standards that you would expect at home, but they are clean, and much better than the conditions you experience while you are out on the road, working for Henry.  The night passes peacefully and, next morning, ewers of warm water are delivered to each room, along with a message that breakfast will be ready shortly.

Downstairs, there is a limited selection of foods for breakfast - a warm porridge, flavoured with some sort of mild spice, fresh flatbreads, and a selection of preserved plums and berries.

Later, when you are ready to leave, Dura offers you another flatbread, a hard-boiled egg, a few slivers of smoked eel and an apple as a packed lunch.

Having heard your conversation the night before, he directs to a small path, leading away from the village.  "That should take you to Mistress Verniex", he says, "But she can be really rude to strangers".
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:52, Sun 14 Aug 2022.

“Rudeness is often easier mended than violence,” Cass offered with a smile. He also thanked Dura for the kindness and hospitality shown and offered forth a small bag containing twenty gold coins. It should be enough to cover the group’s food and lodgings and add in a bit of a gratuity as well.

OOC: This is where I find out that the reason this thread had no new messages is I had another iteration of it open earlier in my tab tree and it was automatically marking it as read each time I opened my browser.

 ---

 When it comes to receiving hospitality, Vova is the maester that he is at so little else... Food of merely edible quality is 'home cooked', beer and ale meant for local folk 'rustic' and 'authentic', simple decor 'honest' and indifferent but enthusiastic service 'energetic'.

 Anyone else might make that sort of thing sound patronising but the sheer enthusiasm with which Vova hurls himself at life (and any object which might reasonably be expected to contain alcohol) underscore his words with a refreshing honesty - it likely also helps that he pays well, tips generously and patently has not the slightest idea or care of the value of money. Set against this is the fact that he knows all the words to 'She was only the ironmonger's daughter but she knew a surprising amount about fish as well' and is possessed of a singing voice which, while powerful and enthusiastic, could generate good revenue for a man or woman possessed of a strong constitution and a willingness to file the kinks out of it.

 Vic meanwhile, more or less vanishes (ludicrously vibrant tail and all) into the shadows fairly soon after everyone gets settled and, come the morning (and breakfast) is to be found next to the hearth with half a dozen dead rats he's hunted up from barn, cellar and outbuilding... One of which he slowly crushes the head of in his claws while staring dead at Vova (who is enjoying breakfast without the slightest hint of shame or regret).

The path isn’t very clear, and is clearly not used regularly, but you can follow it fairly easily – at least to start with.  A mile or so outside the village, the ground becomes wetter, and there are small standing pools  and wetland plants in evidence.  Further on, the ground becomes swampy and there is an unpleasant smell of tainted air, and the insects are suddenly very noticeable.

Then a mud hut comes in sight, on one of the few mounds of solid ground, a thin tendril of grey smoke rising from its roof.  The hummock is surrounded by  a waist high wooden fence,  which looks as if it made from some combination of dead branches mixed in with parts of broken furniture.  There is a gate in the fence, but it hangs askew, and the fence is festooned with crude fetishes crafted out of sticks, feathers, and animal bones.  A path from the gate, leads past a pumpkin headed scarecrow up to the door of the hut.

As you approach, you notice a fist-sized rusted iron bell hangs from a hairy length of rope tied to a crooked post next to the gate.

"Aah now this looks familiar, I do believ this is the right place, yon bell will need to be rung to announce our presence and I would keep an eye on the scarecrow, it's likely to be a golem or something akin to it if the rumours are true.  Last time I was here we parted on good terms and let's hope we do the same again." Dm said looking at the hut it hadn't changed since the last time he had been here despite Pipre's success and wealth it seemed her mother was happy in her own home.