As they ride northward, Lady Starshell explains what lies ahead.

"There is a barracks at the edge of the Forsaken Ravine. The ravine is probably flooded now...but we must cross a bridge there to get through the swamp where a circle of druids resides. From there we pass Sentinel Tower, and then to Castle Braunstein."

In reply to DM (msg # 1):

Well, Druids are nice, right? Maybe they have good bread if we don't break anything?

"Fair enough. Let's move out."

Brodd falls in line with Einhard.

Leohart falls into marching order near the rear of the party.

"I consider this a vote of confidence, thank you all.

It seems odd maybe that a knight could be less overbearing but we have travelled, suffered and triumphed  together...I trust your judgements and actions...let us carry forward.

Once marching order is set, scouts out to the front and rear guards assume your stations." 

assuming einhard and starshell will be after the scouts?
This message was last edited by the player at 19:37, Thu 09 Apr 2020.

Creston marches with the others, but doesn't remember his place in the order, so he falls in at random.

Amalrik falls in somewhere after the scouts, in the front line. His bow is out with an arrow in hand.

"I can't tell if you're describing a delightful itinerary or a gauntlet of horrors."

Gorn checks his mount and equipment then mounts and moves out in front of the group attempting to keep adequate distance between himself and the rest of the group to allow time to alert them if trouble lies ahead. He also tries to take note of where Travis is located so he can watch for any signals from him.

”It was supposed to be the route of my wedding parade, but now...”

Manaku drops to very last in line acting as rear guard.


"Perhaps it shall be remembered later as 'The Triumphant Parade' once you ride back with a minotaur's head on your lance."

A wedding parade Sir Starshell ?? Amalarik can't help but overhear such a remark ... Of all the things to hear during an adventure.

The old cleric was already headed down the road, his trusted pack-dog beside him, for - of course - a follower of the Wandering One would know the way. Places with names like Forsaken Ravine were akin to the baiting of a hook, irresistible and alluring.

"Amalrik, the title for a Lady, is Lady Starshell."

"Actually, it's Dame. The feminine of Sir that is, Dame Starshell... if we're being formal..."

Turning to her, Harald asked, "My apologies, but I'm assuming you've indeed been knighted?"

"Oh my by the gods you are so right, in my haste I was mistaken too, so sorry Dame Starshell!"

Puck chuckles at this public discussion of etiquette. Sir Starshell, Lady Starshell, and now Dame Starshell.

"How about 'Starshell the Leviathan Slayer'", he proposes, majestically.

"Or too many syllables?"

"Star-shell-the-lev-eye-uh-thun-slay-..." Harald attempted to put Pock's suggestion to rhyme, but quickly gave up. "Nay, you're right, it just doesn't flow..."

For once even Amalrik blushes ... Your pardon Lady Starshell.

"Dame Star Sea Slayer," Puck offers. "Almost a whisper, a susurration, in the tongue of bards."

If he had been thinking of the dame's aborted nuptials, he has stopped entirely, finding this topic more entertaining. He can be a little fey like that.

"To be honest, by the rules I am still a squire, just as my brother-in-law here, but in times of peril like these the most capable must take up the mantles when there is no one else to do so."

She smiles gently.

"I do not begrudge being mistaken for a Sir in this armor. I do not dress for battle in small strings of chain like in those lewd shows one might see in bawdy taverns. In fact, some brave Ladies have proposed that all Knights be addressed as Sir regardless of gender, to make less confusion when shouting orders on the battlefield. I have no opinion on the matter."
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:59, Mon 13 Apr 2020.

"I have no opinion on the matter," says Creston. "I don't care if you want to be called 'sir' or 'dame' or even 'goddess.' Your name is your own business."

Leohart listens to the party's banter bemusedly as he walks in formation. He is glad to have replenished the party's food stock, but continues to worry about his empty wineskin. As they walk, he scans their surroundings for any sign of potable water -- an irony given the flooding.