Fenranir looked at the farms they passed, idly wondering what crops they might each yield, making a game of guessing to himself to what they might be, though he had no way of really finding out. Still, it was a fun way to pass the time and keep his mind creative.

Once they reached Sanzi, he seemed a little less tense, like he felt a bit more at ease not being 'in the wilderness'. The place was a little...bland and safety-based for his personal preference, but it was better than nothing.

Upon being shown their rooms, he opened his mouth to make a comment but then better of it. Instead he simply shrugged and said, "Rest well, all. Let me know if you need anything."

Lysander enjoyed the company of the others, and opportunities to see new sights, but he was looking forward to some alone time, although he did miss the the dulcet sounds of the sleeping drag... oooh, he was so looking forward to time to think about new songs and poems.

Daladain enjoyed the road trip. He had never spent so long outside of a city. The wild places seemed to have their own rules, but he didn’t yet understand them. Yet, they spoke to him, deep down, they lacked the rigid order of a city, the straight lines of normality. Maybe wild chaos was where he was meant to be...

Soon they arrived at Sanzi. It was exactly what he had expected from Dwarves - straight lines, solid construction, order everywhere. He disliked it, but did his best to hide his feelings, wary of being rude to their new hosts. Instead he gracefully accepted the offer of a bed, a bath and some fresh food.

Actually the bed was most welcome of all. He had never owned a bed as a child, and this one was soft and inviting. Shortly after retiring he was snoring gently.

They rest until breakfast.

Probably a good move, as Sanzi is not known for its exciting night life.  It's far too orderly and organized for that.  No noise at night, hard working people are trying to sleep!

But the town is up early, and eagerly begins a new day.  Somewhere, dogs bark to announce their presence to each other.  And there is breakfast.

The Dwarves of Sanzi are lucky, in a way- they live alongside a Human population.  Dwarves are well known for many crafts, but farming is not one of them.  You never hear "No one grows cabbages the way those Dwarves do*!".  It's a Human thing... even more so for Halflings, but those are rare.  There are also the nearby Chaos Farms that supply an unpredictable and ever changing assortment of produce.  So the Dwarven range of edibles, typically limited, is quite expanded here.

Still it wouldn't be a Dwarven breakfast without some standards, like the heavy, hearty bread that can best be described as structural.  Baron Sanzi is cutting off hefty slices with the aid of what looks to be a battleax, but is the slightly lighter, less deadly offshoot, the Dwarven breakfast ax.

Baron Arbov is not what comes to mind when one pictures a Dwarf.  He's the bearded, grizzled chunk type, at least.  He's young.  Young Dwarves are seen away from their settlements so rarely that some people forget they exist.  Arbov is a teenager.  Unless one is familiar with the lives of Dwarves, it would be hard to pin down his age, but if he were human... teenager, definitely.

He greets the party warmly.  "Welcome, welcome!  You are the explorers sent by Arcto, yes?"

"I am an explorer, but I was just swept along," Tarhoon says.

Arbov gives him a funny look.

"The rest of us come from Arcto!" Petunia announces.

Arbov gives her a funny look.  "Arcto certainly sent... quite the range.  This will be interesting.  Let's have breakfast.  I have Dwarven fare, our bread, as well as the famous sausage and radish pie, and there are other things as well.  Montabon oat-mush, dried fruit from the last farm cycle..."

"Excellent sweetener for the oat mush"  a table servant notes.

"And they have made Om-al-lots which is an egg thing they do in Pomera.  With your aid, I will finish the quest my father left me.  You are seasoned explorers, yes?"

[8 blank lines suppressed]

*To be fair, there are some exotic Dwarven farming tricks.  Like growing giant radishes so that they be harvested by digging up from below, from special tunnels placed beneath each row of crops.  It's a mind boggling technique, and there are suspicions that the Dwarves who do it really get no advantage out of it, other than being able to squeeze some tunnel engineering into the job of vegetable farming.

"I normally would like the taste of fruit this time of morn,
But I'll try the Om-al-lot if it will not bring me scorn."

Leysa smiles congenially at the dwarven lord as she sits. A moment later it occurs to her that she might not have been invited quite yet when they are invited to sit. Growing up among a fey court or rural dragonborn community had its disadvantages, it seemed. Still, she tucked into the pie and had some oat-mush with dried fruits. As she ate she confirmed their nature, "Aye, we are explorers. Veteran... perhaps in time, but experienced none-the-less. Our journey here was fresh information at the very least. The Deluzion Break is a very unique ecosystem." Leysa mused a second then decided that business could wait a few moments. She chewed a tasty purple/red fruit with many small black seed in it with a smile. "I am Leysa. Some call me The Emerald. I am a dabbler in the powers of nature and inexorably curious. The rhymer is Lysander, a bard and a perpetual source of joy and, slightly more occasionally, wisdom. That is Daladain, an arcanist and excellent companion. And Fenranir, a doubty warrior though I have not known him long. They are Petunia and Firefern, fairies extraordinaire. I am not entirely sure what use fairies have, but they seem exemplary examples of it. The last companion is Tarhoon. We picked him up along the way. A wayward explorer cornered by Windrazors. He's proven rather interesting." She left our where tarhoon was from in case that would cause problems but would not oppose revealing it if the man himself chose to do so. She looked with open curiosity at Arbov.

Fenranir woke up refreshed and stretched lazily. He hadn't had the privacy to sleep in the nude for a while. He cleaned up a bit and then got dressed. He headed out of his room and followed the smells of...well, maybe not deliciousness, but edible and drinkable things.

He walked in and nodded to all there. "Good morn, all!" he called out cheerfully and then more respectfully he said "Greetings, Baron.".

He sat down at the table, gathering up some food and digging in, not seeming to care that fare was more 'dwarvish'.

He glanced over at Leysa, who was talking...and smiling? Interesting. He perked up and gave a small smile and another nod when he was introduced.

"You're probably curious about what I have planned," Baron Arbov says, as he personally makes sure everyone gets a piece of Dwarven bread whether they ask or not.

"Exploring?" Petunia asks.  She lands delicately next to the slab of bread the Dwarf gave her, and gives it a careful test kick.

"Exploring!" Arbov says exuberantly.  "I think my father knew something.  The rock weir of Bear Face Mountain, that's no natural feature!"

"The Rock What?"  Petunia asks.

"Weir," says the Baron.

"Bear Face Mountain, you said," Petunia says.

"Right.  The Weir there."

"We're there?" Petunia asks.

"Oh... no... no... Rock Weir.  A kind of dam like structure.  This one may look natural, but it was cut, my father said.  And I went there, and yes, it was cut!  Do you know that means?"

From the sound in the young Dwarf's voice, it is supposed to mean something very important.

But he continues, pausing only briefly after his rhetorical questions.  "You don't make a cut like that unless boats are supposed to use it regularly.  The river from here... that led somewhere, once.  It must have.  Do you realize, that if you trace the navigable waterways of the Great River and its tributaries, the heart and soul of transport inland, the place they come closest to the navigable waterways of the coast is very nearby?"

"Excuse me," says Firefern, the other Faerie.  "Not that I am an expert geographer by any means, but isn't a mountain range dividing us from that?"

"There must have been a way across it once," the Dwarf says.  "A long time ago."

Tarhune speaks up.  "Well the place I come from is... well... similar.  And there is a way, because I took it, that's how I got... well not to here, that's complicated.  But to my equivalent of here."

Leysa sniffed the bread once then took a bite. She finished it after adding fruit meant for the oat mush. She listened to the conversation about the exploration and her lips curled at the rather comical misunderstandings. She was getting a better idea of what fairies were for. She thought that she understood. Tarhoon's interjection was interesting as well.

"Sooo... If I understand rightly, you want us to locate this path through the mountains? A bit of trailblazing combined with archaeology and cartography? Hmmm..."

She looked around her group of companions and raised a brow ridge at them. "IF the others are up for it, then so am I. We'd need supplies, maps, and a couple other odds and ends."

"The beautiful dragonborn is right,
for with out maps we'd not last a night.
With proper tools to guide the way,
we are more sure to win the day."

Fen listened intently while he ate, his eyes darting back and forth between the speakers. He gave a small snort of amusement but rolled his eyes and then shook his head at the slightly amusing misunderstanding. He briefly looked upwards as he pondered the Baron's words.

He glanced at Leysa when she spoke up. He gave a light shrug and then nodded. "Sure. I'd be willing to go along."

"That's good to hear," Arbov says.  "You have what you need?  Boots, equipment?  Where we are going, it will not be easy to refresh our supplies by stopping in the next town.  I have supplies arranged, good Dwarven edibles that will be undaunted by time or damp."

"I have a stick," Petunia offers.

"So you do," the young Dwarven baron observes skeptically.

"Explorers use them.  So I am ready." the Fairy says proudly.

The Dwarf sighs.  "A band such as this there has never been. I have never known Fairie folk.  Or.. honestly, neither have I seen the Dragon Born nor... Lutran?"

Tarhoon nods.

"Sanzi is not the largest of towns," Baron Arbov says.  "But it is a solid and hard working frontier place where people are practical*.  If you need to prepare or acquire anything further, as we search for a path through the mountains, if it cannot be found here it can be made here.  Err... within modest reason, of course.  This isn't exactly a center of high wizardry.  I expect to take about a month.  If we have gone two weeks and found nothing of use again, we shall turn back.  Exhausting ourselves will be of use to no one."


*From a Dwarf, this is very high praise!

Fen looked between the speakers idly as they went back and forth again. Then his eyes widened and his eyebrows shot upwards. "A month?" He frowned slightly and looked down, chewing on his lip. "I think I may need more rations and water for that long of a journey. I wasn't prepared for a much longer journey list this."

He glanced at the others, wondering if he was the only one unprepared.

Leysa raised an eyebrow at the extended date, but shrugged. Such a time in the wilderness didn't bother her in the least. Still, the notion was a bit of a surprise. She tilted her head back and began to consider the supplies they would need to survive for a month. "Do you want to plan for foraging off the land at all? A month's worth of anything, even things as delicious as dwarven bread, is not a heart-warming thought. Tolerable but not appealing. Well, I am sure I can find the necessary provisions here." Leysa slowly tucked her chin to look down at her self and sighed, "A decent suit of armor wouldn't go amiss at this point either. But I expect your good folk cannot spare such should they even have it."

OOC: I think we can assume we are on board. Can we provision off-screen?

"The trip, it sounds amazing,
but there're right about the grazing,
for to travel far requires us to eat,
And while the bread's a start,
when the matter comes to heart,
We are going to need a lot more of meat."

Daladain listened carefully to what was being said. Actually, he ate quietly and pretended to be listening while trying a range of dwarves delicacies, some were tasty, some were... functional. After eating a slab of dwarf bread he felt that a sojourn to the garderobe might be in order, maybe with some rising material to pass the time.

His ears pricked up at the discussion of an expedition. That sounded interesting! Though he was a city boy at heart he had found the wilds of this land to be most refreshing. “I’m in.” he stated simply. As the conversation turned to provisions he thought about his apparel. “Will it be cold? Maybe we might need some new warmer clothes for our journey.”

The Baron will handle provisions for the journey, of course.  But the gang quickly learns, this implies Dwarven trail food.

Dwarven trail food, it is said, may be bland, and may sit in one's stomach like the foundation wall of a good Dwarven fortress, but what it lacks in flavor it makes up for in ballistic qualities.  A single small loaf of Dwarf bread can last a traveler for a month, but this is mostly the traveler will scrounge for find something else to eat for most of that month.

Tarhoon is not put off, he's fairly certain he can supplement with living off the land.  He claims he is an expert.  The Faeries, however, are definitely worried.

Fortunately even a Dwarf does not live on bread alone.  Baron Arbov has Dwarven salami, and dried fruit prepared for the journey.

Cold weather clothing is another story.

Montebon, merely by virtue of latitude, ought to have a warm climate, "Humid Subtropical", not unlike that of the southeast US, Uruguay, or the east coast of Australia.  But instead, it is very mountainous, and temperature drops off with elevation.  Inland, one can find some of the most tropical snow covered peaks in the Southlands.  Even a small glacier or two.

Of course, Arbov seeks a usable trail, and has reason to believe one exists.  Up and over peaks is not a usable trail.  Still, it can't hurt to be prepared.

The party can acquire heavy bedrolls and wool cloaks (produced by some of the same llamas you passed along the way) in the town, as well as other items.

As in most small towns, the shops aren't stocked except for the most routine of items, and imports.  It's a matter of telling them what you want, and they make it for you.

The experience of journeying cross country through the Chaos lands is worth an experience level, everyone goes up one! 

Lysander looks forward to the journey, knowing that life is a journey.

((Bard's are better than I thought))

Leysa moves among the shops and farmers of the small town and gathers what she thinks will be useful: a length of rope, food, water, a small pot, and materials for making a fire. She also, probably fruitlessly, looks for a good set of armor.

Leysa finally got her second level of Warlock. Good to go.

Fenranir purchased some more rations, since he wasn't sure if he could subsist on bread alone, never mind dwarven bread. And he knew he wasn't exactly the hunter-gatherer type in the wilderness, so he wanted to be prepared. He wished he had more money and the chance to buy better armor, but that was a job for Future Fenranir.

He made himself ready and showed up when they were ready to leave.

OOC: Bought 10 more days of rations.

Do we need to buy the heavy bedrolls and wool cloaks (and if so are they normal book prices? Do they provide better benefits than a normal bedroll and cloak?

We will just assume the characters get some good llama wool jackets and bedrolls.  Tracking all the copper pieces is not necessary.  They are inexpensive here, thanks to the local llama population.

Tarhoon asks the Baron how many of his own troops will be coming along, and gets a surprising answer.

"Well, first of all, here in Montebon the nobles are not permitted to have private armies.  A few guards, that's it, the rest are Montebon national troops... even if they are here under my command.  All belong to the nation, not the nobles.  One of our very modern rules.  Oh yes, we may seem a slow mountain kingdom, but we have some very modern rules.  Since they belong to the nation, I cannot just drag them away from their defensive duties on a whim.  And we always obey the rules here."

"Well I suppose public order is a worthy thing," the Otter-man muses.

"Worthy!  I should say so!  We live in the path of Chaos Storms, we need all the Order we can get!" Arbov explains excitedly.

Tarhoon is curios.

"So.. you're own adherence to Law somehow affects the natural chaotic forces of this land?"

"Strange, but yes, that's exactly what it does."

The Faeries look a little guilty.  There's a touch of Chaos with every one of their kind, and they know it.

"Now the second reason is a matter of the local habits," Arbov says, getting back to the questions.  "You know we have a reputation for working hard at our occupations, we Dwarves... and it's a trait that's passed on to the Humans of this land.  Hard work makes for good living.  So... it's not easy getting people to give up their livelihoods for this sort of thing.  I'm a nobleman, so in a way I have no livelihood... I'm also young, so I'm expected to do things like this.  And my father.  He was an explorer.  So for me, it's expected.  For most people here, it's a foolish distraction from the things they have to do."

"So do we have any help?" Petunia asks.

"Oh yes, yes we do!".

And what the young Dwarf means is this:  he has a boat chartered for the first part of the journey, a fishing vessel whose captain has, thanks to some Dwarven compensation, found good reason to take a brief break from his regular labors.

Despite the presence of so many Dwarves, seafarers here, as in most places, tend to be Human.  There's a simple fact of nature here:  the same short stature that gives Dwarves such an advantage in mines is a handicap on the water.  They have less leverage, it's harder for them to do tasks like rowing oars or taking in lines.  Those long Human arms can be useful.  A Dwarf might not notice it at first.. they do tend to be strong... but soon, they notice that so much of what they are doing is just easier for the Humans.   So they go back to smelting metal, or some other more Dwarven pursuit.

The boat will go upriver, the first leg of the journey.

Finding garments that fit her size and body proved problematic. As much as she hated wearing items on her feet, she recognized that even her draconic heritage would be susceptible to frostbite. Thus, a few custom pieces would need to be managed. Luckily, she found dwarven practicality and ingenuity when presented with a problem up to the task. She simply had to find a clothier who would accept the challenge of her size and form.

The rest, it would seem, was much less comforting. It seemed that they would, again, be mostly on their won. Adventuring and exploring were not normal tasks for a people obsessed with the normal.

She understood it; it didn't bother her.

She would simply go about her way gathering the things she would need. That thought sparked another and she glanced at the fairies, "And you? Will you be coming? Will you need cold weather gear?" Personally, she valued the chaos fairies brought with them. A healthy balance of order and chaos seemed best.

Are we actually moving forward or still chatting in Arbov's hall?

Lysander says to Leysa,

"The cold will hit you hard
It reaches to your core,
The feeling in your feet
Might make you shake some more.

The warmth you feel from friends
Will reach into your heart,
Especially the ones
Who've know you from the start."

Fen quirked an eyebrow at the Baron's answer about troops. Unsurprisingly practical for a dwarf. If the Baron had troops that could be spared, he would be likely to hire adventures to aid him in his quest. Though, it wasn't totally out of the question, if he was hiring ones experienced with what his tasks involved. Fen wasn't sure that was the case though.

He eyed the boat critically - but didn't know much about boats so assumed that everything was as it should be or the Baron wouldn't be stepping foot on it. He smiled slightly, though, as this meant less walking for him, at least for a while.

He glanced from Leysa to the fairies, curious about the answer.

Petunian and Firefern look at each other.

"There are such things as Frost Fairies," Firefern says.

"But we are not them," Petunia finishes.

Firefern goes on.  "Fairies in general are strongly attached to their environment.  For us, woods and fields and meadows.  The edges of places.  But these are changeable places, and we live through summer and winter, even in places where the winter brings snow.  If it is no worse than that, we will not have a problem."

"If it is worse than that perhaps someone will share a coat," Petunia adds.

"Fortunate," Baron Arbov says.  "I do not think the artisans here produce things small enough for you."

"Oh, there are a few in Montabon City that do!" Petunia says.  "And one even in Stonebell!  They know us in Stonebell.  In Montabon City... Arcto sends letters explaining what we need, and says it is for dolls.  They must think there are fanatical doll collectors living around the Breaks.  But we also make things ourselves, which is important, because even for dolls.... most Humans and Dwarves simply cannot knit socks that can fit us."

Sleeping bags, on the other hand, are easy to acquire for them.   A knit sweater is sufficient.

*************

When packed and ready the group heads out.  The boat has to be rowed or poled upriver, but fortunately, the river is not too swift.  Poling is actually easier, in most places, because it is shallow.  Ocean going ships would never work here.

It takes two hours to leave civilization, that is, to pass the outermost of the farms surrounding Sanzi.  Most of the farms here aren't "chaos farms"; the force that comes from the east coast and blows inland seems to lose much of its potency by the time it reaches this river.

"The Chaos winds are weak here?" Tarhoon asks, observing the changed landscape southwest of the city.

"It seems so," Baron Arbov says.  "Perhaps the force of chaos is sapped by our stalwart discipline and stubbornness.  But we will find it again in our journey.  When we are well away from Sanzi."

"Such an odd thing, like the storm embodies some mental energy, to be driven simply by your personalities.  It is hard to believe."  Tarhoon says.

"And yet it is proven.  It is the reason the people of the region invest in llamas."

And you do see some, wandering in fields near the town.

Past the farm the river winds around forested hills, and then into a broad and very peaceful looking valley, though mostly what you see are the trees along the river.  That, and the bird life here, which is plentiful.  Kingfishers and egrets patrol for fish.

"I take it there are some dangers here," Tarhoon says, "or you would not have wanted help so much?"

"Oh this is true," Arbov says.  "Only, I cannot forewarn you as to what it might be.  The creatures of this valley are known to us, and are mostly of the ordinary types.  Bears.  Big cats.  But though the Chaos Storms are weak here, they are strong nearby, and things brought in by the portals those storms open are a constant danger.  And those, you know, well, I have no way of predicting!"