In reply to Caile (msg # 110):

To the shop keep (hoping to use the proposition of a tent purchase as a bargaining chip for the map):

And if not a tent, may I borrow this map?  Surely a shop keep like yourself has this area known to his heart.  When we return, I shall give you the map as well as a gift of good tidings for your trouble.  I am a fair man, if not a rich one.

To Caile the shopkeeper replies "I've got a couple of tents, a two-man.. er. person.. for 2 silver and a larger one for 5 silver." He indicates a couple of tents fashioned out of skins stowed on one of the large shelves behind him.

To Brevis, he nods. "You look like you're an honest soul, and I've heard of your plans from the drinking that went on last night."

"Take it, but be sure you bring it back in one piece."

Tossing his pouch of coin from one hand to the other, well aware of the dwindling amount of coin, Caile considers the price. It sure seems fair, but he'd be a fool not to haggle.

"Come now, Master Orla, you and I both know that these tents aren't worth that much. Just look at the quality of the skins, dreadful! I'll give you 1 silver for the small one, what do you say?"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:10, Wed 15 July 2020.

Lothar is sneaking into the tent when he feels certain there is no one nearby.

11:48, Today: Harinder failed (no successes) using 3d6 with the Target Number system with a target of 6 with rolls of 5,5,3.  Stealth skill - Lothar: Stealth Skill

11:47, Today: Harinder rolled 2 successes using 4d6 with the Target Number system with a target of 6 with rolls of 4,3,6,6. Stealth skill - Lothar: Agility

Inside the dim but luxuruos tent, are two suits of leather armor upon a make-shift table and, lifting them up, Lothar find a fine studded leather armor. Hanging on hooks, there are two leather caps. He quickly dons one of the smaller leather armors, a bit too large at the shoulders, and snatches up a third cap from the ground. Now, what else will he be able to carry out of here? At least he thought of an escape route between the tents and the wall, where no one should be able to spot him. Hopefully.

(Will be updated based on GMs input)

Brevis steps outside Orla's shop, stretching mightily upward with both hands to relieve the ache that has returned to his scars.  He takes a last look around, the image carved into the Brander's doorframe flashes in his memory, and then quickly heads for the guard towers at the exit to Runething. 
This message was last edited by the player at 15:28, Mon 20 July 2020.

Discouraged by Orla's cold stare, Caile quickly abandons any hope of haggling over the price. Muttering, he pays in full for the small tent and then shoves his significantly lighter coin pouch into his backpack as he fastens the tent at the top of his pack. He then hurries after Brevis, dragging the bewildered Eins along towards the gates.

"Brevis! Brother! Wait up!"

In reply to Caile (msg # 116):

I'd like to make it here *points to map* before we eat.  It may be ambitious, but I've a full belly and good company.

He slaps Caile on the back, smiling.

Everything else, we'll hash out on the trail.  *glancing at Caile's new purchase* Nice tent.  Should we meet any attractive newcomers on the way, let them know I'm not above mud wrestling for my spot!
This message was last edited by the player at 15:26, Mon 20 July 2020.

Caile laughs, pealing laughter that echoes over Runething, infectious and full of mirth. He slaps Brevis on the back in return, mischievous smile on his lips.

"What spot would that be, brother?"

He laughs again, his bad mood from before already a thing of the past.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:49, Wed 22 July 2020.

Caile and Brevis notice the halfling, Lothar circling one of the tents that has been erected for some of the visitors to Runething overnight. Doubtless some petty warlord calling themselves a Duke or Baron or some-such.

The halfling seems to be overburdened by a leather jacket and cap of sorts, but it looks rather comical on the fellow, coming down past his knees with the cap covering his eyes.

He seems out of breath and flustered as he makes his way over to you.

"Have you seen the old bugger Harinder?" I'm sure he said to meet him here.
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:01, Fri 24 July 2020.

Stifling a laugh as the halfling comes up to them, Caile looks around with an annoyed look on his face.

"Raven only knows where that old cook has run off to. If he is such a great woodsman as he claims he'll catch up with us before long. Let's be off."

Adjusting the pack on his back to accomodate for the added weight of his new tent, the minstrel sets off out the gates of Runething, sights set on the horizon and the Arina Forest.

Seeing the halfling wobble like a happy drunk under the weight of his burden, Brevis encourages him toward the gate with an outstretched hand.

Follow close, Lothar, large black birds tend to fancy shiny objects.  I'd hate to lose you now, we've only just begun.

What could pass for a cordial smile among elves flashes upon Brevis' face.  It is entirely well meant.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:33, Thu 30 July 2020.

In reply to Brevis (msg # 121):

Birds I am not too worried for, but let us be on our way quickly, the owner of this borrowed armor I fear may want it back sooner than later. By the way either of you good with a needle and thread, you elves have the slender fingers for such work after all.

Lother motions to the long sleeves of the oversized leathers he is wearing.

In reply to Lothar (msg # 122):

I've always mended my borrowed goods with whatever the nearest edged weapon might be.  Tends to make the cut of your gib look meaner.  Also dissuades the borrowee from wanting them back as much.

If we're clever, you might just manage a pair of pants from the cutoffs!

Eins doesn't say much as he follows after the troupe. He straps on piece after piece of armor as he walks, securing them efficiently and snugly.

In reply to Eins Heold (msg # 124):

Feeling the rush of an epic quest at its opening, Brevis turns on his heels and addresses anyone within earshot.  Life is a stage, even for those that are not frailers, and in this moment he considers the spotlight to be focused on his intent.

Let me say now, for both those in front and behind the cheap seats, that a bottle of the finest wine you've ever tasted is in my cloak.  Yes, wine, though women tend to ask on occasion.

Once we make it to the slavers, I will freely give it to the man, woman or child that subdues their leader.

Trade this priceless bottle for riches.  Woo your beloved with it's majesty.  Drink of its nectar.  You'll deserve it all and the choice is yours.

It return, all I ask is that you allow me the killing blow on the soulless forsaken bastard that runs that slavers camp.

The ache in Brevis' back invigorates him.  A hunger in his gut drives him.  The faces in his presence enliven him.  Were there a charge to lead, no matter the odds, he'd gladly raise a sword to the sky and spur his steed to a blazing run.  His eyes flash and his teeth feel sharp.

He's dreamed of the moment he can so clearly imagine ahead of him, and he'll stop at nothing to see it through.

Spurred on by Brevis' speech, Caile brings out his flute and raises it above his head.

"And if that doesn't wet your appetite, I vow to compose an epic ballad for the one who slays the greatest number of slavers. Unless that is me, then you all owe me an epic ballad. Each."

The minstrel throws his head back and laughs.

"And brother, I think we'll have to flip a coin for the head of that monstrous beast, I've a thirst for vengeance too."

He claps Brevis on the shoulder and gives him a wink.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:28, Sun 02 Aug 2020.

In reply to Caile (msg # 126):

"A Thirst for Vengeance" is a fine title to the comitragic tale of the headless slaver.

Brevis walks on from the gates of Runething, not looking back.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:08, Sun 02 Aug 2020.

Caile quickens his stride to catch up with Brevis. Out of earshot of the others the bard whispers a few choice words to his old friend.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:59, Sun 02 Aug 2020.

Brevis begins to lengthen his strides, making sure that Caile can match.  Were he to push any  harder, his appearance of walking would nearly be broken for that of a galloping run.

In reply to Caile/Brevis

"When I beat the fellow to 'is knees, I'll give his wine-" Eins gestures to Brevis- "to you." He gestures to Caile. "In exchange, you never once mention me in any song of yours, epic or otherwise. Got it?"
This message was last edited by the player at 21:37, Sun 02 Aug 2020.

With Brevis and Caile leading the way, Eins and Lothar have to lengthen their (rather short) stride considerably to keep up.

Of Harinder, there is no sign so far, but the old druid can't be too far away, what with Runething being a small village.

It appears as if the rag-tag band of folk are off on their first journey together.

In reply to Eins Heold (msg # 130):

Brevis can't help but smile at the pitch-perfect demands of the dwarf.

Brilliant suggestion.  A mysterious, ghost-like figure haunts the slaver, even in death!  This ballad is getting better by the minute.

In reply to Brevis (msg # 132):

Brevis rolled 1 success using 6d6 with the Target Number system with a target of 6 with rolls of 2,1,4,2,5,6.  Scouting upon leaving Runething.

In reply to Eins Heold (msg # 130):

Caile snickers at the dwarf.

"I can't speak for all minstrels, master dwarf, but for this one wine has been known to loosen the tongue rather than clamping it down. I'm sorry to say that your name might just become legend, whether you wish it or not."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:26, Thu 06 Aug 2020.

[CUT TO THE NEW JOURNEY I.C. THREAD]