Another day on the road...

Farewells from Elves, gifts of Elven food and some Elven cloth, and the Caravan is lined up and on the move.

It's not as hard as the shortcut through the Black Forest.  Here, the Romans cut a road through the Black Forest, after a long struggle and much negotiation.  It has been unused for years, but the stonework is good, and time and nature are only slowly reclaiming it.

It is not like the way here.  The forest does not magically open ahead, nor close behind.  But the weather is good, and with the Elf Queen's court roughly midway through the spine of the Black Forest, most of the going is downhill.

Again, Alayna was late to report, just as the group was readying the wagons, and late for breakfast. She grabbed something to eat, then ran to her wagon. She fed Angel, then climbed into her wagon. And the young teen laid down and slept as if she had not slept for several days. She did not get up for lunch, but slept as the dead.

If anyone looked in on her, she was asleep with a tired smile. And she did not rise until they called for dinner.

It is a day and a half on the road to the Cross Roads.  Typically, there would be a town or village at roughly one day travel intervals, but that's not the case in the Black Forest.  Only now are they truly back in what was once Roman territory.

They can tell that because of the roads.  Here, in addition to the road they came from, they could go north, or south.  At these places, were three roads intersect, small villages would often naturally appear, and perhaps a tavern or waystation.  The three way intersection, the Tri Vium, thus was the hub of many rural communities, and the things people talked about were... Tri Via, and thus a word came into existence.

But the empire is long gone.  There are only traces of settlement left here.  Old wall foundations... a well...

And of course, because the Romans cared about these things, the stone sign post.  The lettering is old and faded but can still be read, and still lets people know what is where.

North is Brigobanis.  South is Iuliomagis.

Both, from what the Elves said, currently belong to the Baiovari.

The Argentos's pause and hold a  roadside meeting.  Hylensia goes over what the Elves said, that these people are crude barbarians and could be quite dangerous.

The alternative to actually meeting these people is trying to evade them.  But what do the performers think?  The Argentoses do not want to take their crew into places they are uncomfortable.

Nwofia scratched her head, realising that she probably needed a shave.  It was almost as though she didn't understand the question. She considered a little more and eventually realised that there was no 'as though' about it.  She hadn't understood the question so she said so.

"Why would we want to avoid them?  We've played for Orcs and for Elves, we've played (sort of) for Golems and Goblins and now, faced with Humans, we're considering hiding?  What am I missing?"

In reply to Nwofia, Topaz smirks.  He's travelled among various Germanic folk who'd Romanized a bit, even speaks a patois of various Germanic dialects, though he's not specifically familiar with the Baiovari.

He says easily, "They're forest folk, scratching out a living on little farms cut out of the trees.  Chickens, goats, pigs.  They're mostly poor, but proud to a fine point.  You'll find they make fine mead, boast early and often of their doings, and have epic festivals.  Really epic, like some of their scops recite poems that tell of brave deeds of their warriors that can go on for hours."

The Faun swings his legs slowly while he sits on the wagon and thinks.  "A few revere Roman gods, but most look to Freyr and Freya, Wotan and Hel, Donner and his brother-who's-really-a-giant.  They don't always see the world like Latin folk, but often see a thing and want it, then take it and it's up to the person having to hold onto it, if they want to keep it."

He considers, then adds, "In that way, they're not too different than Romans were as a whole, I think, but they take it down to a personal level.  Anyhow, they're way more about family and tribal honor than law and seem to love lyrical poems where the hero wins, then everyone dies."

"Come to think of it," he says, "the ones I've known were as sticklers for the laws of hospitality as any folk I've ever known.  It'd be best to have their local chief's permission to pass and to play, then we'd be covered by guest right and to be expected maybe to give and to receive gifts.  If I recall, Tacitus wrote about them, but that was long ago and the Baiovari may have bent themselves to new ways."

With that, the Faun hops from the wagon, winks at Nwofia in a manner both impish and suggestive, then heads along the caravan to discuss with others at the gathering.  "This is doable as performers have a special place, seeing as the Baiovari don't really read and write, but it is not without risk.  Be ready to give things away you'd rather keep and to be gifted things you may only have the mildest interest in."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:31, Mon 14 Sept 2020.