Barg grabbed the handkerchief and blotted the dog slobber off himself

"Barg thanks you Penny Purse. Barg will be strong, resist dog poison. Penny Purse is very brave to keep dangerous monster as pet!"

"If it might suggest, Brengalyn, I would be willing to take the lead on finding a gift or two for us to have on hand. I was raised by dwarves, speak their language and know their ways. It might be that I'll see something you would miss, something that will help us later?"

Thamkis placed a hand on Brengalyn's hand, smiling up at her

"Or we can go together? I would welcome some company, if we can trust Barg and Penny to not burn half the town down in our absence."

"Sounds alright with me, after all they have Spot now."

Penny pouted calling for Spot "I can be good, how much damage can one blind gnome do anyway?"
This message was last edited by the player at 02:55, Sun 06 Feb 2022.

The day passed in a moment, or felt that way. Wagons were packed. Horses and mules were fed and rested for the coming journey. Mercenaries, for the first time, were hired to protect the caravan. And Lucian organized several crates of 'special' trade goods.

Brengalyn and Themkis managed to find two barrels Yellow Apple Brandy, a particularly well aged brandy from the farmlands far to the south. And no Dwarf in his right, drinking, mind would scoff at a barrel of hardy brandy. They also came across a wonderful find in the form of a collection silvered steel knives in elegant elk hide sheathes. The quality of the metal would be an attractive gift for a Dwarf of some regard. It was expensive. But, then, making an impression of new people often was.

The morning came as no surprise, but it did come early. Caravans started before the sun scared the horizon. It took time to get organized and rolling when there were sixty two wagons and coaches involved. The pace was slow. Very slow.

Penny rode atop Spot playing her banjo as she went, her and Barg had gotten into few shenanigan's while the two more 'responsive' people were gone but for the most part were well behaved. Penny did what she could to help boost the moral of the men, playing the same music that had caused an uprising that freed many of them only days before.

"Yellow Apple Brandy! That'll do the trick, along with those knives we found."

Thamkis inspected the gifts several times, checking the knives and brandy, even after they'd bought them, fretting over all.

"There's two kinds of dwarves. The kind that like a good experience, and the kind that like a good artpiece. Both speak to a deeper want in the dwarves, a love of history, of place and time."

There place in the convoy of wagons, coaches, carts, and cattle herds was near the front. A place of honor and safety by caravan tradition. The two wagons to their front were a wagon hauling a dozen armed guards followed by the caravan masters mobile home office on wheels. The drovers and teamsters whistled and sang lively tunes as they went.

Soon the days passed into the first week on the long road north. The weather had grown a sight cooler, especially in the early morning hours before dawn. Thankis found that many of the Dwarves of the caravan hailed from the northern mountains. Brengalyn noticed that she had a strange following of young warriors who seemed to be infatuated with her. Penny played and sang and picked a pocketful of coins. Barg, champion of frogs, grog, and wrestling became the unexpected life of the party on many nights.

The caravan had been on the road for nine days when it pulled into its first real town in the north. There was a chill in the air despite the bright sunny sky. There local population was decidedly becoming more and more Dwarf dominated. The town was called Heldrick's Rest and was known for it's temple to the god Novesk and a particularly large and very purple potato known locally as miner's spuds.

"Goodest morning Heldy's Crest! Morning to you, dwarves of many types!"

Barg had been in a bit of a funk for a few days, having lost one of his ten burning fortune clubs while stopping to relieve himself on the road. But the prospect of dwarf gold and dwarf muscle warriors delighted him.

OOC: failed wisdom check, rolled, lost a torch

He looked up at Thamkis and the rest still on the wagon, fastening his grey-blue fur cloak around his shoulders

"We must see if there are new friends who we can beat in battle, challenge and become stronger!"

"I will be making a small trip to the temple of Novesk, if anyone wants to come. Might pick up a few supplies for miner's stew while I'm here too."

The normally dour halfling seemed giddy, greeting passing dwarves in dwarven, a tongue which seemed to flow out of her freely, unlike the guarded words of Common she doled out sparingly

Brengalyn got off the wagon agitated, restless. Flirting with the boys in the caravan and winning a few games of dice and cards did not make her feel too fulfilled, and she stood tall over Barg and Thamkis gazing about and sniffing the air.

"Food. Beer. Dwarves are famous for it and I for one need a break from Tham's cooking. If I can manage to climb back onto the wagon of my own accord it will be because I failed to party hard enough."

OOC: fatigued for next four hours as failed fort save vs hedonism

There was arm wrestling, leg wrestling, thumb wrestling, and mud wrestling. The came the foot races, foot races with obstacles, foot races against pigs, and foot races while carrying a mug of beer. Eating contests; pies, sausages, onions, and turnips were followed by drinking contests; stout, whiskey, brandy, and wine. It culminated in a battle of the wits where in the champion would be crowned for catching the most frogs.

Barg was not only in his element, he had wondered in Barbarian nirvana. And in the end defeated, quite soundly, a line of worthy Dwarven foes. And then passed out in a shallow puddle of warm beer and sticky mud.

Thamkis made her trip to the temple. Old habits came to the fore as she met and greeted priests, acolytes, clerics, and the like. It was a good visit. She learned a new worship song. She learned that the snows had come early to the northern passes and that the last trade caravans for the season would be leaving in days. She also learned that there were rumors of an ancient evil lurking in the mountains. Some said vampire. Others claimed liche.

Brengalyn found the company of the Dwarven fighters to be typical; big egos, short tempers, little sense, and tall tales. It was a delightful experience of over drinking, over eating, over lying, and ass over tea kettle when she stood up to quickly. Luckily there was a nice, comfortable bit of earth right under her face. How fortunate.

(OOC: contacts were made. feel free to ad lib them a bit in your IC posts in town as this scene plays out.)

Barg returned cackling and jigging, having proven he was strongest. Amid all the partying and the fun though, he'd put a question to the ones he'd faced

"Barg is searching, looking for big wolf. Most big, and has goblin face. Purple fur and bright eyes, very handsome. Barg wants to fight something like that!"


When he'd returned to the group with his strength proven, the goblin realized he'd lost his waterskin!

"Two things to lose in so many days!? Is baddest of luck! Which means a great challenger awaits, yes!"

Penny had accompanied Thamkis. Watched Barg play, she watched and learned. Dwarven culture was new to the gnome, she wasn't used to much of it but was soon overwhelmed by the line up of very burly bearded men and women competing with her goblin friend. She took a swing of her dwarven ale very drunk and blushing the alcohol far to strong for her gnomish body "....Stupid sexy dwarves..."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:32, Wed 16 Feb 2022.

"They are quite striking . . . but they're dangerous, Penny."

Thamkis sat down with an aperitif glass, sipping it slowly

"Best to pace yourself with dwarves. You rise to the challenge, they just make the challenge harder. Better to be yourself."

Brengalyn slumped into a chair with the other ladies, lip split and one eye bruised from a good left hook.

"You should see the other guy."

She pulled out her own wineskin of applejack, took a draught, and then motioned for more beer, tottering slightly

A loud clapping from behind drew their attention. Standing several feet fro their table was a very muscular Dwarf clad in only trousers, boots, and a bear skin cloak. His beard and hair were graying brown and as thick a fleece on a lamb. He had the scars and tattoos of a career soldier but something in his demeanor struck them as less dour, more social.

"I am Isgood Bladesingeer." Aha! A bard they thought. "You four are the ones who spent the night turning this fair town into something of a festival. Sounds like my kind of folks. I hear you are headed further, deeper into the mountains. I don't suppose you could enlighten a fellow adventurer as to the south. I myself am headed to the southerly regions just now and could use any advice a worldly traveler could give."

"Orc bands clash with scattered groups of soldiers. Last we saw it was still in the humans' favour but merchants are beginning to be waylaid on the road. A boom time for mercenaries looking to sell their swords."

Brengalyn tried to sit up straight

"What business do you have in the south?"

The gnome smirked, leaning on the elderly halfling, "You make dwarves sound so fun Thamkis...hello" the gnome belched as the dwarven newcomer introduced himself, covering her mouth and snickering she listened. Penny got really quiet,"If you see a corpse hanging from a tree it's likely a trap"
This message was last edited by the player at 02:52, Thu 17 Feb 2022.

"Perhaps they've begun to think better of their lives, and withdrawn by now. Certainly the land south of here is in turmoil, but I've heard the snows are coming down on the wind early, and theirs some living dead creature that haunts the mountains? Anything to worry about?"

Thamkis put a bony hand around her gnome friend, satisfied that so long as she was leaning on old Slybones, she couldn't be off making trouble.

"Death the south. Death to the north." The bard said quietly. "I shall have to go to the west. My parents live to the east you see. I know what my father would say; 'so come home have you? the road been treating you poorly, miss your mother's cooking do you? mayhap it's time to put down that lute and take up the pick with me in the mine'. No thank you there."

"A parent is a blessing and a curse, as is a child. You will miss them when they are gone, even if it is only sometimes and only some things."

Thamkis' tone was sad, giving the dwarf an understanding expression

"If you'll forgive an old woman her boldness, I believe the great armoursmith Forgus Ingotstrum once said 'it is not the materials, it is the craft', when asked how he had made such works of art for kings and high priests. If your dream is to be a bard, truly to dance with the ancient music, then your parents will understand. It is not evil thing to be a miner, or a musician or a sculptor or a priest. It is an evil to ignore the craft that the gods have laid upon your hands to work."

She slapped a hand on the table

"If you can tell me where your parents are from, I'd bet I could give you something resembling a homecooked meal, and enlighten my companions to some true culture in the meantime! If our paths are close for a day or so?"

"What's west that you would turn from your southern journey? Anything worth wandering for? Or will you know it when you see it?"

Brengalyn took another sip of applejack from her flask and considered the dwarf perhaps more sternly than necessary.

"If you're so easily swayed for the right incentive, I'm sure my group would gladly appreciate guidance north for a day or two, if your business can wait. We'd pay some gold for the help."

"Barg would like to know an important question!"

The goblin pointed at the dwarf

"Gold for trade, Barg wants to know if you are having gold?"

"Few things in this life have the allure of a fine medley, a busty Dwarfess, and the shine of gold." He said. "But I fear bands of Orcs in unknown lands, my moher's wrath, and the ancient evil of vampires. West, my dear fellows, I shall go west. Thank you for you generous offer. You will want to travel to the hamlet of Copper Hill. There, I have heard, you will find your foe."