The old trade road was remarkably old, over six centuries according to some texts. But, despite this, the paving stones were still perfectly fitted and evenly laid. The wagon rolled along to the drumbeat of rain and clopping of the mules hooves. The rain came down in a steady downpour that limited visibility to a mere thirty yards or so.

The wind was mild, however, so the chill wasn't too bad. The sun was high, noon, but the day still carried the gray of early morning. Twice the group happened upon passersby; a small group of farmers driving a small herd of sheep into Kardican and a lonely patrol on horseback crossed their path on its way protecting the King's lands.

The scent of burning pine mixed with roasting pork told them that there was a stead nearby. Possibly one offering a meal out of the rain for them and their beasts. Maybe even a few pints of ale to make the weather more tolerable.

Brengalyn sat high in her saddle, greeting each passerby with a look, smile and a nod as she rode on.

Before the day was out her stomach growled, and she'd lost her taste for travel rations before long, swigging out of her waterskin. The smell of pine and pork caught her attention

"Smells like stopping is in order then. Already the world is looking up for me having slowed myself down for the rest of you."

Without much consultation she turned Velvet towards any signs of smoke or the smell, looking for the source

Barg did his best to keep outside the cart, lopping along at his quick pace rather than riding in the cart. At least after the smell started to get to everyone. Despite laundering, his poorly cured hides continued to reek like the deepest, oldest sewers.

The rain meant no sun though, so Barg was happy. Carefree and happy

"Yes, if there is food, we should go! Barg has eaten nothing and bufo makes Barg hungry."

He turned over his skin of bufo

"And bufo is almost gone!"

Thamkis had strapped down her cauldron in the back and had Penny sit with her in the front as they rode, the wagon bumping along as it went

"If I had the right ingredients, we'd be able to use this time better! That cauldron back there is a magical thing in itself, though it doesn't look it."

Her haversack tipped over, and a creature like a duck came waddling out, clearly perturbed at its confinement. Thamkis looked back at the creature and tutted as it quacked at her, annoyed.

"Well, we couldn't have had you wandering around making a fuss, not after the last town!"

The duck approached Penny, appearing to be made of biscuits and molasses, its feet sticking to the wood of the wagon ever so slightly with each step. It quacked inquisitively at the gnome before trying to get into a belt pouch or haversack looking for food, before Thamkis swatted the creature upside the head lightly

"The cauldron, as I was saying, is properly seasoned for the preparation of more than simply stews and soups. It can brew potions and oils, and with a little ingenuity, I can create even more amazing substances, candies and cakes which have magical effects. I can even-"

She jabbed a thumb at the duck

"-create creatures like Graham here."

Up ahead the shape of a two story building looking to be part home and part tavern began to take shape out of the rain. A covered hitching post ran along one side and sheltered half a dozen horses from the rain. On the wide porch several people sat smoking pipes in rocking chairs with mugs on little round stools close to hand. Music could be heard inside, common lute and fiddle tunes, as they approached. A tall brick chimney was shedding pine smoke seasoned with the scent of roasting meat.

"
Of all my trips around the sun,
Desna blessed it's been a good one,
Finally found some piece of mind,
And how to leave the past behind"
Penny strummed on her ukulele as they moved forward. Keeping her companions entertained and stopping to listen to Slybones periodically. She smiled, eyes wide as she leaned towards the little duck,  "What does he eat? How do you make him move! He's so cute!" Putting her instrument down she scooped up the little duck and cradled it like a child "You're so cute I could just eat you up!"

Graham, desiring not to have his biscuits and molasses become a meal to several quick waddles back with a plaintive squawk.

As the group ambled its way up to the roadside house and tavern, commonly referred to as way house in these parts, a couple of riders came trotting along from behind speaking loud 'we're here, don't attack us' voices.

The tall, skinny human female was saying, "Really. It was just lying there on the table? Do you really expect me to believe that?"

Her companion, a very muscular hafling male in leather armor replied, "Honestly, as Metto's witness I swear it. That moss agate was just right there on the table when I sat down for some beer and bratwurst. There was a bit of lingering smell, someone needs to burn that tunic."

Barg immediately showed interest in the two riders speaking of the Mossa Gate. Leaping out of the wagon and smoothing his hair down

"Greetings, horse ride people. I cannot help to hear you speak of the Mossa Gate, legend of the gnomes. I would like to ask if you have one of the famous moss stones?"

The gate, Barg reasoned, was a fabulous portal to wealth and snacks. Or tasty moss! And likewise, ages hence it was seal with fabulous moss stones which he would collect enough of to find the gate and raid the snacks!

As Graham struggled to get away and then waddled off, Thamkis brought her mules and cart to a slow outside the way house.

"The Viscount Quackers is what those in the know call a construct, an artificial creature made of inanimate materials. In this case, he has a small soul animating him, one of the many lost which hold no form or memory after death. There is a calling ritual that can be done. Usually it calls a minor demon or fey and clothes it in the body of an animal, but in this case with the right spells and recipes you can create a familiar spirit from baked goods."

Clambering down off the wagon, Thamkis watched Barg approach the riders, bringing her hand to her face in resignation at his need to tempt fate.

Brengalyn swung down off Velvet with practiced ease, her cavalry spurs jangling slightly as she stepped down. She walked with head up to catch up with Barg and try to intercept him so he didn't approach too close to the other travelers. Many would likely see an approaching goblin babbling nonsense and go for a crossbow over seeing if he was speaking words.

"Hello! My companions and I were just pulling in, I hope you don't mind while we get the cart settled? If you'd like to go on in ahead of us we can watch your horses?"

"I, uh, err, no. What the devils."  The woman said as Barg  approached, she wrinkled her nose at him, obviously unhappy at the Goblin's approach. "We were headed to, um, Lichtenfeld."

"Pardon my companion." Said the halfling. "We, ugg, that smell. You! You left that stone?"

"What? The Goblin?" The woman said. Then she burst out laughing. "So, that is who you got the stone from. What, did you filtch while he drunk on the floor?"

"Yah!" The halfling turned in the saddle and spurred his mount away gaining speed in the rain. The woman, still laughing, turned her mount and went after him.

A moment later a small leather bag sailed out of the rain and struck Barg lightly in the chest. It fell to the ground with a tinkle of coins.

From the porch a gruff voice said, "If that runt is going inside let him stand in the rain a little longer. Wash off some the stink."

It was common enough, Goblins having a foul odor. It was more of a running insult among those who were prejudiced than reality. Barg had come too ignore it like so many other things in life.

Penny nodded thoughtfully at Thamkis. She got off the wagon and offered the old halfling a hand out of her seat. "That is not very nice!" Penny called out, upset.

In reply to GM (msg # 11):

Brengalyn watched with some amusement the comedy which unfolded, and gave a wave and a bow as the two sped off to Lichtenfeld

"Safe travels!"

She eyed the coin purse on the ground and edged toward it, wondering if Barg was going to pick it up. She wondered if it was true that goblins had a strange love of gold . . .

Drawing herself back up at the voice she turned to address the speaker

"Ah yes. Dreadful stench, something he was born with, or some aspect of his sentimental aversion to washing. Tell me, are you the proprietor of this here way house? We need stabling and rooms, inquire inside?"

She eyed the gold a second time