In reply to DM (msg # 9):

"A Minotaur, you say? How curious. Interesting indeed. Im not a squire, or man of arms in any way, nor is saving ladies in distress my strongest set of skills, but if there is a party planning to go there I'd like to come along. Im interested in learning more about this beastial humanoid. I may try to put it under my spell, even..." Momentarily the wizard is lost in thought, stroking his thick beard.

"We should consider bringing along proper equipment for an expedition like this, of course." He snaps back and says equally to himself as to the others present.

Regdoc both watched and heard the plaque clatter onto boards worn smooth by spilled ale and mutton grease wiped into the grains a thousand times or more. It was a fitting goal for one such as he, an ancient at the end of his days of adventuring. He already knew what lettering he would request upon it should he return...

---

This seat shall remain empty until

THE WANDERING GOD

shall take it up!

unless His humble servant,

Regdoc Y'narc the Seeker

shall be in town, in such case, he alone may warm it!

AND CURSED IS THE ARSE OF THE ONE WHO SHALL SIT UPON IT!

unless it be that of Regdoc of course...

---

"I'm not much younger than you Exemplar, perhaps only a day or less, and the Wanderer knows I'm not up to go gallivanting around on another quest! But if another placard is to be nailed in this tavern, then by the Dusty Boots of Him Who Wanders, Regdoc the Seeker will enlist! I've not found the end of my path yet!"

Chomper laid his muzzle on his crossed front paws as if to say, Here we go again...

“Our Order and the Order of Valor have been allies from the first days written. They are the Sword of Law and we are the Shield. Brodd. The horn stirs your soul, I see. Go to the castle gates and fulfil your destiny. Remember you wear our robes and represent us at all times.”

"By the Light, I will not fail us," Brodd intones solemnly, grateful to the deacon for his blessing and practical gift of holy water.

Castle gates?!  The young priest has barely left the temple since being ordained.  There was always another lesson to learn, holy rite to study or sermon to attend.  Not to mention the most important duties of a Least Brother, which was cooking, cleaning and brewing.

***

After one last visit to his spartan quarters, Brodd leaves the Solar Temple with nothing beside his wits, money pouch and priestly robes.  Heading to the gates by the most direct route, he pointedly ignores the general hubbub but keeps his ears open to hopefully learn more about what as going on.

In reply to Regdoc (msg # 12):

(1 XP for that exposition. 5 XP if/when you get the engraving)

Walking over to the assembled crowd-"Now that is what I have been looking for, something to test my sword against.  A Minotaur he said; you can count me in on this job.'

"Sounds like an expedition is forming up. Who shall lead it then? Is it you, barbarian?" Sazar nods at Amalrik. "Or is the man of faith - the one who calls himself the Seeker - who should lead?" He nods at Regdoc in turn.

"And perhaps most importantly; by what name shall the expedition go by? A good name is required - one the bards will remember, so that they can sing it's tale accordingly."

His eyes went wide.

"That's what I get Chomper! That's what I get! After all these years, I should have known better than to open my mouth. Me lead the party! HA! If that's to be the case only one name I can think of will suffice... Seeker's Folly!" The oldster talked with his large dog as if the mutt could understand. The dog's raised eyebrow and cynical puff of overly-large lips made it almost seem as if he did understand...

Regdoc raised his arthritic frame from the chair he'd been occupying - only until the Wanderer should stop in to wash down the trail dust of His every onward Way - and began to shuffle over toward those gathering. It was easier to hear them this way, and he didn't have to shout.

"Well, yes, I suppose some degree of administration is in order. For organization and so forth... I'll need a personal secretary of course, someone to take down notes and keep track of expenses and, uh, negative expenses..."

Chomper lifted his drooping jowls from his paws and cocked his head.

"Not you, you walking infestation! I've seldom seen handwriting worse than yours, and you constantly drool all over the parchment!"

The faithful hound snorted and rested his head once more, eyes closing in a mockery of dozing.

"You there! You look like a literate fellow, and I should assume you have some degree of learning and wisdom," Regdoc gestured to Uringizel. "Suppose you can scratch a quill can you? Good. You're my assistant. I like my mutton warm and my gruel the same. Now then lets start getting down some names shall we? I'll start. I am Regdoc Y'narc, a Seeker and humble follower of the Wandering God... uh, make sure to capitalize the 'W', yes, that's it... Who're the rest of you low-life layabouts? Speak up!"

He stepped back to allow the others to come forward out of the crowd. One of his hands trembled with a bit of palsy as he considered...

"...maybe Regdoc's Raiders? Hmmm..."

After some time out on his aimless stroll, Least Brother Brodd realised that the castle gates may be the eventual goal but not the immediate.  He cast his eyes skyward for a clue, and followed the sun back down to the horizon.

There.

A steady stream of vagabonds and itinerants were moving and collecting in the tavern district, and not long after the cleric finds himself walking into a bustling tavern.  Seems a likely place to find fellows, Brodd decides.

"And perhaps most importantly; by what name shall the expedition go by? A good name is required - one the bards will remember, so that they can sing it's tale accordingly."

"'The Exemplary Endeavour'," the young acolyte suggests, taking in the scene. Had someone said Minotaur?!  Surely he had misheard.

No doubt there was all sort of experienced warriors and seedy scallywags nearby and so Brodd keeps one hand on the wooden holy symbol dangling at his chest and the other inside his robe on his moneybelt.

The simple sun disc carved from ash marks him as a follower of the Solar Order.  His total lack of any adventuring gear, a total novice.  But there was time yet.

"Ah! Mr. Endeavor," Regdoc said regarding the young acolyte. The days of his own beginnings on the Path of Meandering Righteousness were so far back he could hardly recall them.

"Erm... assistant, jot that down will you? Mr. I-N-D-E-H-V-U-R."

"Say youngster, you're not related to the Endeavors up in Littlebrook are you? Do you know Shae'dee? I cannot really stand that man... I think he also goes by Walter."

"Step up! Who's next? C'mon. There're maps to grumble over and porridge pouches to prepare. Let's get on with this..."

A shocked look across his face; "Me..me lead?  I have always just followed and am told what to  kill and I kill it.  My preference is one smarter and wiser in the way of the world."  His hand rests on his dagger pommel and looks down at the ground-"No it is best I follow, when battle arises my blood lust gets the best of me and I have been known to loose my mind."

"Eh? Mealy? That's an odd name, but one of your size probably does eat a lot..."

"Get that down please lovely assistant, Mr. Mealy..."

"How's that spelled? Oh nevermind, probably can't spell anyway..."

In reply to Regdoc (msg # 21):

The bard in the back starts plucking his strings.

"The Exemplar Endeavor, I say have you ever

heard a band that's so grand as the famous Endeavor?

Say Never!"

"Hmm...needs some work...lever...sever...shever...cadever...."

In reply to Regdoc (msg # 17):

"I'm afraid can't be your personal secretary, dear man... My quill is reserver for - how shall I put this politely, erm - for more interesting matters." The wizard says with apologetic smile. "But I'm sure you'll find a suitable hireling for that task from this crowd."

Creston walks over to the assembling group, patting the bard on his shoulder as he passes. "You are forever clever, as always."

Walking right up to Regdoc and says, "I was considering answering the call, but not under your leadership. The group would disband before we even reached the city gates. Just sit down and let someone who is qualified lead the expedition." Stepping behind Brother Brodd and putting his hands on the young priest's shoulders, Creston continues, "I nominate this one. Leadership is the glue that holds the team together and I have faith in this child's ability to do exactly that. The pruneface speaks only vinegar."

Regdoc gasped. "Why I never... Who do you think... Of all the... I oughta... What kinda manners did your mother... Would anyone believe... ??? Bah!"

The oldster bristled and blustered and flustered, waving his thin arms in the air and gesticulating in a fashion unbecoming of any priest, before he finally huffed dramatically and tromped toward his seat! But in one briefest of instances, the rude elf might just have seen a look of utter relief and profound gratitude for getting him off the hook. Even so, the Seeker did have a reputation to uphold.

He ranted a bit longer before sighing loudly. "I hate to admit this, but I suppose you're right though," he relented, sagging into the battered chair and putting a gnarled hand upon the head of his faithful hound, "how's this upstart ever going to learn anything if us wizened ones keep coddling them? No, better that I step aside and this youngster take his lumps. I'll second that motion my pointy-eared friend. Brother Bobby it is!"

A few moments later, Regdoc leaned over to mutter into Chomper's floppy ear. "Ya see that? They fall for it every time! Remember that Chomper, if you don't want to be the cook, just show them all that you go very heavy-handed on the pepper..."

Thoroughly satisfied with himself, the ancient cleric sat back and tried to remember what they were voting on.

"I'd hardly call you 'wizened,' pruneface. You're not even 100!"

The oldster snorted.

"Go back to your drink lad... There've been clods of mud stuck to my boots longer than you've been bullying your elders." Regdoc's tone and demeanor had changed significantly. The grumpy, absent-minded old timer was suddenly serious.

He fixed his eyes on the elf, but spoke to his guard dog, "Easy Chomper, elves don't hold their liquor well, he didn't mean to be so disrespectful I'm sure..." The dog pushed itself up on its forepaws, suddenly awake and alert.

"Bobby, lesson one: handle this." Regdoc said to the young cleric.

Stepping behind Brother Brodd and putting his hands on the young priest's shoulders, Creston continues, "I nominate this one.

The youngster seems quite tense at the elf's touch, quite possibly surprised out of his wits at the strange change in situation.

"Wha-"

"how's this upstart ever going to learn anything if us wizened ones keep coddling them? No, better that I step aside and this youngster take his lumps. I'll second that motion my pointy-eared friend. Brother Bobby it is!"

"But .."

"Bobby, lesson one: handle this." Regdoc said to the young cleric.

"I assure you ..."

Brodd scanned the faces.  They seemed serious, but was this some kind of lark?  How he, a total initiate, barely average in most respects, could possibly lead anything ...

"Well, I, er, I, thank you for confidence, sirs.  I, ah, accept," Brodd manages, his stammering improving and the last word uttered seems quite firm.

With a smile at the hound, Brodd snags a likely sausage bit from a local table and appeases the mutt.  "There now, nothing to worry about.  We are all like-minded and friendly here."

"Right?"

Brodd has seen elves before, to be sure, but never really mingled with one of the magical folk up close.  The fey had dark reputations (fell, even) on some lips, and he doesn't want to wake up naked in a faerie circle with no memory of the last ten years.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:32, Fri 07 Sept 2018.

Sasar chuckles under his massive gingerly beard.

"Splendid! We have that matter settled then! I, Sasar, welcome your wisdom to lead us, Brother Bobby, er, Brobby?, Brothus?"

The baffled wizard clears his throat and gently strokes his mighty bristles.

"Forgive me, young man. I'm terrible with names... Now, where was I... Ah, yes. You seem to have the situation in control. As our dear and wise leader - what should be the next action for this great carousal of ours? Hmph? We need supplies, yes? A guide, maybe? Torch bearers? Fighting men!? We are going against a Minotaur, a terrible bestial humanoid monster! An adversary not to be met unprepared."

"Ahem .. Brodd, Brother Brodd.  My given name was Alastar, if that is easier, goodsir."

Indeed, what should they do next.  "We must report to the castle gates," Brodd says after a moment's reflection.  "And, yes, we must be well-equipped and prepared for anything.  I myself require some chain-and-mail and a sling."

A guide, maybe? Torch bearers? Fighting men!? We are going against a Minotaur, a terrible bestial humanoid monster! An adversary not to be met unprepared."

"Perhaps that was merely a false rumour.  Fake news, as it were,," Brodd says, unconvincingly.  "I suppose a link boy would be a wise hire.  Sadly, I lack the coin to do so."

"Don't worry, Brother Brodd," said Creston, "I'm sure we can find you some armor, somewhere. And some soap for the prune-faced kid's mouth."

"Yes let us go. I for one don't need much.  A bit of water, some hard tack and of course my trusty sword.'

"Oh? You don't need much then indeed, barbarian. I, on the other hand, need to buy provisions at minimum, as I don't currently have any food with me. Then we need a light source, should we enter underground tunnels, search half buried ruins and such and so forth... Does someone have torches - or better yet - a lantern and oil flasks?" The wizard continues to babble. He abruptly and sharply turns and addresses the general crowd:

"Also; to any able man - or woman for that matter - hear hear! I shall pay 2 Gold Crowns per month to able person with sword and shield or equivalent weapons, who shall come to my service and work as my guards during this grand expedition! Any takers!? Line up, chaps, this is YOUR chance! You need to bring your own weapons, mind you!"

Then he equally sharply turns back towards his new companions:

"And rope! Of course we need some rope! I almost forgot that one..." He grins and raises his thin index finger as to express he just made very important discovery.

Two gold a month?  The going rate was surely higher, yet Brodd does not wish to interrupt the wizard.  One never interrupts a wizard, that was a saying, he is sure of it.

"Come friends.  Let's see what the traders can manage for us, and what discounts we can expect since we are answering the Exemplar call."

With that, the cleric tries his best to usher the troupe out from the comforts of tap and barrel and into the town's mayhem, all except the elderly fellow with the dog who Brodd is sure will come along in due course after he gives Regdoc a nod.

Suggest: move the IC scene to shopping, if necessary, others move to City Gates for the next step and do purchases "off camera"

GM Any discounts? *grin*

In reply to Brother Brodd (msg # 34):

Next scene will be at the castle gates at dusk. That will give you enough time to buy your items offscreen.