"Almost sounds like a dare."

"Should I brace myself?" Mallory joked right back with as playful a smirk as one could manage while covered in viscera.  A matter she set about remedying with several gestures across her own form; wherever her palm crossed, a swath of gore, snow, and dirt was supernaturally purged to leave a perfectly clean line in its wake.  She continued to tidy herself bit by bit until all was well again even while Rhydd offered his appraisal, and gestured to give him the same cleaning if he'd linger for it.

Rhydd's summary and impressions brought a somewhat rueful smile; either he was off the mark or Mallory simply didn't agree with his views from the look on her face.  Though flattery seemed to soften her manner by the end and she offered a self-depricating laugh.  "I would say that you and Trolls share a limited vision." she gently teased.  She'd been the one to ask, after all, so there was no ire to be heard even if she disagreed with the review.  Mallory dipped to scoop up the bundled rolls of hide onto one shoulder and the frosted-over jarred heart under her other arm.  She gestured for her companion to help with the casks of blood and satchels of varied bits, if he would, as they needed to return sooner than later to catch their wagon out of town.  Once all was ready, she set off to lead the way through the snow-laden streets.

"I assure you I'm quite comfortable with others and was very happy." she recounted as they went along.  "I come from a merchant family; my grandparents, my parents, and all my siblings alike hold the trade just as I do.  My father has spent his life working for our sake and was so proud that we each held to the family trade... he would exhaust his peers boasting about me and my siblings.  When I first showed capacity for magic as a child, he was so excited I thought he'd burst!  He'd spare no expense and practically buried me in tutors, lessons, and books in order to see me thrive.  It was just the same for my siblings as well; he embraced our skills and passions with such joy..."

Her one good eye lifted to the cloudy sky as she walked along, momentarily lost in thought and memory.  "I was very confident in myself and my abilities, you know.  My family built our enterprise through hard work and dedication, were granted our rank of nobility because of our accomplishments, and with my visions I helped to catapult us into greater influence.  We did it all together and helped so many others in the process."  There was longing in her voice; wistful pride and a fleeting happiness that escaped with her breath as she sighed bitterly.  "And then I ruined everything.  I misinterpreted my visions and it caused a disaster... and another, and another, and it all just spiraled away from me.  All the good my family had, all we'd built for those who relied on us; ruined, just like that.  I've hurt so many people because of my failures.  Now my siblings are scattered to the winds trying to fix my mess, my parents remain in Neverwinter fending off the vultures, and I'm stuck here trying to do something... anything... to set things right again."

It was a lot to take in, but at no point had Mallory ever seemed like the sort who belonged in as rough and strange a place as Ten-Towns.  She didn't belong there, nor did she want to be there at all, but desperate circumstances demanded desperate action.  After a time the young noblewoman eased the clench of her jaw and sighed out once more, then gave Rhydd a miserable glance.  "You give me far too much credit, Mister Maldhon.  I wish I was the naive yearling you paint me as; it would be a far cry better than the truth."

Rhydd busied himself with moving the various containers of Troll-parts along in the direction that they needed to go. He carried a satchel in each hand and rolled a cask ahead of him, pushing it with his foot. He would double back later for anything that he and Lady Mallory had to leave behind.

He guffawed with amusement when the wizardess lumped him together with the Trolls as having "limited vision", then listened with interest as she spoke of herself and her upbringing, explaining why most of his shots at the target of her character had sailed well wide of the mark.

"Here's hoping that my arrows are more accurate when our lives are at stake," he said, chuckling.

After a moment his tone became more serious. "I don't like people, he said after a short pause. "I am most content when I am away on my own in the Wilds, with only myself to depend upon."

"And yet," he added, "I find myself liking you, of all people -- someone who has no business whatsoever being where you are, up here in the Far North."

"Why do you suppose that is, Lady Mallory?"
This message was last edited by the player at 02:19, Mon 06 Sept 2021.

There was a moment where Mallory worried about judgment for her tale, one way or another, but was relieved that Rhydd took it so well in stride.  Of course, they were up in the wastelands beyond the Sword Coast... stories of personal failure and collapsed lives were surely lamented over at a copper per dozen.  She was no different in that regard despite how much she stood out against the crowds for her manner.

"I don't like people-"

Mallory feigned a gasp of utter disbelief at that.  Rhydd's further leading, however, earned a sidelong smile given his way.

"Why do you suppose that is, Lady Mallory?"

"Novelty?  My ravishing good looks?  You like cats?" she chanced, still half in jest.  No doubt Rhydd hadn't desired to have a sob story dropped on him as she'd done, but it put her more at ease in his company once she had it all out like that.  As they walked together she shifted momentarily nearer to give him a bump shoulder to shoulder, simply for the sake of good humor.  "Let's see... if I were to judge your character?

You're a ruffian, to say the least, but not a brute.  Not one to suffer fools in the slightest, nor keen to let others decide your path for you.  Yet for all your growling there is a cleverness, and a kindness, and a desire to help.  I see an intimidating man beneath that hood, Mister Maldhon... but, ultimately, a good one." Mallory yielded a more generous appraisal in return but, given how afraid she'd been of Rhydd when they'd first met, it spoke well of how his actions had turned her view of him in so short a time.  "So... perhaps it's your desire to help a damsel in distress that draws you to me, hmm?  Or has my arrow landed off the mark as well?"
This message was last edited by the player at 03:03, Mon 06 Sept 2021.

In reply to Mallory Bonheur (msg # 28):

"Must be the cat," Rhydd dead-panned, giving Mallory a bit of sly side-eye that he figured she probably couldn't see underneath his hood.

~~Her being a wizardess and all, mayhap she can know such things without seeing 'em.~~

"Astre is terribly charming, after all." Mallory hummed through a rather smug grin.  Though, as had been the case all morning, the Tressym in question was nowhere to be seen.  Surely off on some adventure all his own yet again... or perhaps just snoozing away the morning by a hearth somewhere.

"What do you think of the others?  Miss Dannika, Miss Moyrah, Miss Farwalker, and this Torgrim fellow?  Not to gossip, of course, but I imagine you must feel like the only sane mind amid such an eccentric lot as ourselves?"

“Sold to the man with the key!” Triglio exclaimed as he eagerly snatched up the key. “And you can keep your silver and copper. I am a merchant, not a robber, and I prefer if my clients do not die from hunger. It is bad for business.”
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:25, Mon 06 Sept 2021.

"The others?" Rhydd echoed Lady Mallory as he gave the cask another shove with his foot.

"They'll do in a pinch, I s'pose." This was probably rather high praise from a man who, by his own admission, did not like people. Even though he apparently liked cats and Tressym.

"There may be something a bit . . . off . . . about Torgrim, though. Admittedly, I haven't quite figured him out, yet."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:12, Mon 06 Sept 2021.

"Indeed... while I admit that his claims of phantoms aren't the least bit impossible, there are far more plausible causes for one hearing voices."  A scowl crossed Mallory's face as she briefly recollected her few conversations with Torgrim.  He was handy in the fight with the Trolls, sure, but that was one thing and his claims were another.  "I don't like that he spoke of his phantom potentially being Miss Moyrah's family.  That's the sort of thing charlatans do to prey on people in mourning; one often finds a street corner darkened by some so-called soothsayer who can miraculously speak with the dead in return for a few coins."

She could only shrug in the end.  "I suppose we'll just have to keep an eye on him and take care if ulterior motives reveal themselves."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:23, Mon 06 Sept 2021.

Rhydd took some comfort from the fact that Lady Mallory apparently had some of the same concerns that he did. After all, as a magicker, undoubtedly she was privy to things that he had no understanding of.

At the same time, it felt a little odd, even having someone else around to discuss things with. The outdoorsman was used to making up his own mind with little or no input from others, then acting as he saw fit.

As the twosome moved along, burdens in hand and underfoot, he changed the subject. "Where are we taking all this?" he asked the wizardess.

"Are you planning to load it onto a wagon and cart it off to Bryn Shander?"
This message was last edited by the player at 21:27, Mon 06 Sept 2021.

"That was the intent, yes." A gentle assurance was given even as Mallory took a second to shuffle her load mid-stride to switch shoulders, lest she give herself a crick in the neck.  "The caravan agreed to delay their leave a bit for our work, though at this point I'm honestly tempted to be done with it entirely and purchase some Axe Beaks of our own instead.  We paid good money for safe transport to Bryn Shander and Mister Niels got us lost in a blizzard, attacked by wolves, and ended up in the entirely wrong town.  And not a single hint of remorse or even a token apology!  When one loses trust as a business person, it's nearly impossible to regain."

She blew a bitter scoff through her teeth.  "Honestly, I wouldn't be the least bit surprised to find out he just took our fee and drove off without us."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:27, Mon 06 Sept 2021.

In reply to Mallory Bonheur (msg # 35):

Rhydd grunted a wordless response to Mallory's recounting of the ills that had befallen the caravaneers in their efforts to reach Bryn Shander.

After a moment he muttered "'Tweren't Neils' finest hour, that's for damned sure."

"I suppose it takes a while for word to spread amongst those wishing to come up here from the Southlands as to who is good, bad, or indifferent when it comes to guides."

"Or, mayhap the choices are so few and far between that just about anyone can stick a feather in their cap and call themselves a guide."

"Well, I would certainly trust the likes of yourself, Miss Farwalker, and Miss Moyrah to be far more apt." she huffed indignantly.

"Well," Dannika commented, "that is unfortunate. At least Mallory will have all the time she needs." Before the last breath of the last word escaped her, Mallory and Rhydd approached from further up the street with the fruits of their labor. And, coincidentally, both Torgrim, with his newly purchased gear, and Moyrah, with her essentials loaded and packed, arrived to share in the realization that they had been abandoned.

"If you're looking for the caravan that was here earlier, I regret to inform you they've departed. You were too late," the haggard Stable Master spoke, peeking out from beneath his hood as he moved a bundle of hay. Neither he nor the animals found any reprieve from the cold here in the stables. The Axe Beaks appeared fine with their dense and downy coats, but the spare horses had been layered in rugs, blankets, and sheets — really anything big enough to cover them while they were idle.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:44, Tue 07 Sept 2021.

As was often the case in having the ability to foresee future events, or having a covert spy-in-the-sky, Mallory was very much accustomed to her predictions being right.  The few times they'd been wrong were frankly terrible, but they were at least rare.  But when it came to Niels having actually up and left without them even after she'd asked him to delay... frankly, she hated being right.

"Nnnnnnngggggmm." was all she ever so eloquently managed to vocalize in a low, frustrated tone half-muffled under her scarf and one hand pressed over her face.  "I swear, when I find that man, I'm going to give him a piece of my-- no, no, not good enough.  I'll see to it every merchant's crossing along the entire damned High Road hears of this outrageous negligence.  See how he likes trying to find work with a black mark across his name."

"Hunh," Rhydd grunted when the Stable Master spoke his news, the archer somehow managing to convey disapproval with the tone of his wordless comment.

Having paused his progress for a couple of heartbeats, Rhydd resuming rolling the cask forward with his foot. "Can't say that I'm surprised," he muttered.

"Not at all sure that they'll make it to Bryn Shander," he added.

---

OOC: Bears, did Neils wait for a break in the weather, or did the caravan head out into the teeth of a howling winter storm? Thanks.

---

Rhydd's Weather Forecast [19]: Cloudy with a high chance of light to moderate snowfall. Moderate to Fresh Breeze. Nothing outrageously sinister.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:37, Wed 08 Sept 2021.

It was times like these that Farwalker wished she still had her pipe. But the smoke had stained her teeth, and getting them cleaned properly had been both annoying and expensive. She could just start walking, but doubted that most of the rest of them could keep up. It was a bit cold to everyone else. She actually wasn't irritated, this would just be the perfect moment for some dramatic smoking. "There's always walking. A brisk hike through the snow is good for the blood." Her tone was jovial, she hadn't really liked some of the caravanners anyway. Mainly because they thought lesser of her due to her heritage. Which was rude.

"A brisk hike for you is trudging waist-deep through drifts for the likes of us, I'm afraid.  Snow shoes or not, I'm ill-prepared for a five mile winter march when the weather may turn at any moment."  Mallory countered with a disgruntled sigh and a gesture to and fro between herself and Dannika; the waifs members of the present company.  Though as she looked Farwalker's way, she seemed momentarily distracted by something she noticed... just long enough to furrow her brow in brief focus, though she shook her head and left it aside without remark.

"When did Niels even leave?  Did he wait around at all or did he just set out as soon as I spoke with him?" she asked the stable keeper, even as her one visible eye lifted to glance across the milling beasts behind him.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:54, Thu 09 Sept 2021.

Dannika shivered at the mere prospect of braving the distance at foot. "Good for the blood? I prefer my blood in liquid form, thank you very much."

"Not too long ago," the Stable Master grunted as he moved some more hay for the horses to nibble on. "They did wait, ya know. But Niels buckled under the pressure of his herd, I suppose. Can't say I blame him — if you're late, you're late."
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:26, Thu 09 Sept 2021.

The idea that Niels had been browbeat into leaving sooner than intended by the passengers was enough to lighten a bit of Mallory's ire toward him; she understood full well how bad clients could be, and doubly so when the weather might turn against them at any moment offering a very slim window of opportunity to work in.  As much as she hated to admit it, she might've been too hard on him... though it wasn't going to stop her from demanding a partial refund of her fare the next time they crossed paths.

"There's little to be done for it now.  Even if I sent Astre after them with a note, I doubt they'd stop and wait for us to catch up at this point."  Eventually she could only sigh out in impotent frustration.  "I don't suppose there are any other wagons making the trip to Bryn Shander today you know of, sir?"

"Nay," the Stable Master responded, "not that I know of. Don't see much traveling these days. If you still insist on heading out I strongly advice you find yourself another guide. Them roads get less safe by the day."

"If you still insist on heading out I strongly advice you find yourself another guide. Them roads get less safe by the day."

"And surely anyone would be a better guide than this Niels fellow." Torgrim put his hand to his forehead and made a scouting motion in the direction of Bryn Shander. "Probably halfway up the Cairn by now, if your journey here is any indication. Is there anyone you would reccomend?

"Is there anyone you would recommend?"

To wit, Mallory's eye was promptly drawn to both Rhydd and Farwalker alike as obvious candidates.  "I would say the matter of guides is readily handled.  Transport is another matter... assuming there even are any proper mounts and sleds available."  Clearly a leading remark, given their present company with the stable master, even though it galled her to risk a business transaction at such an overt disadvantage.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:53, Fri 10 Sept 2021.

The Stable Master glanced at Rhydd. "I presume you are Rhydd, then? In that case, Niels said you'd fare just alright." On the matter of price, he betrayed no will to inflate them. "Plenty of stock. I can't lend anything out, I'm afraid, so you will have to purchase. Sleighs are twenty each, horses go for fifty golders, same for the Axe Beaks. Though they can be a bit more feisty." One of the ones nearby shrieked as it rammed its head into a bar making up its stall, a habit it had grown fond of apparent by the numerous scratches and indents on the wood. "Blasted vermin keep doing that . . . I have to replace the planks periodically. Doesn't help that they have to be kept in longer nowadays. They're active animals, so I can't really blame them." He sighed wearily. "If you come with me, I can show you what I have of saddles and equipment."

---

In the somewhat large stall, there are about half-a-dozen horses, and five Axe Beaks. That should be more than enough for you to pick and choose from. Everything goes by the price listed in the PHB.

Rhydd looked offended at the Stable Master's "just alright" comment. "Neils said that? The man's got some nerve, after the mess he made of trying to get the caravan to Bryn Shander the first time around."

He leaned over and whispered to Mallory. "You come from a family of merchants, so why don't you handle the bargaining? Me, I don't really have the patience for it."