The big Kislev took a seat next to the fire and waited patiently for the tea to be ready while taking a few sips from his kvas-skin. He noticed the man going by the name of Pieter and offered the man the skin.

Pieter took the skin and a swig, with a mangled thanks - the one word in Kislevite he knew. His accent marked him as an Ostermarker, next province south of the border

“What brings you this far south, friend?”, he asked softly
This message was last edited by the player at 18:06, Fri 02 July 2021.

The big warrior spoke slowly as he answered the man.

"Fought big battle. Orcs, Shamans, Spiders house size." he waved his arms above his head to indicate this was no normal spider. "Slaughter. Lightning killed many. All. Almost." he fell quiet and stared into the fire for a few seconds before continuing.

"Me search and find Green Light. Go back and win war." he took a big swig of his kvas and passed the skin again.

"You?"

Jocelin returned the mootling's offer of courtesy. "Thank you, Messenger Stoutfoot. Tea with company certainly is better. But I'm sorry I have to decline at the moment: I should speak with Granny about... what happened... and Luciana said she'd wanted to speak with me."

She paused a moment before leaving, "Another time?" she asked with customary cheer.

---

The wizard accompanied Granny to her wagon and asked after her needs, making small talk and generally keeping the conversation away from elves or the Winds, and complimenting Luciana on handling the children. "Do you have any children of your own? Nieces or nephews?"

Some time later, when she had a moment of relative privacy, she said quietly to Moescher, "This is a vibrant land, and the winds are active here. Ghyran celebrates life, though also present are streaks of Ghur..." she let the question hang for Granny's response.

In reply to Fyodor Fyodoreski (msg # 275):

Laughing bitterly, Pieter took a swig and winced, whether from the strength of the kvas or the image painted for him by the Kislevite, "Big battle, eh. That'd do it"

He leant forward, closer to the campfire, "Too many folks wanting to speak to me in Ostermark, or the woods when I had ... made my home. Taxmen, my brother, the Count's men. Pah"

Sighing, he passed the kvas back to the patriot: his opposite is many ways, but just a man in the woods in the dark too

Fyodor chuckled. "They looking for advice on home making?"

Pieter threw back his head and laughed, "Looking for me to decorate their walls, head on a spike, more like!"

The Kislevite grinned along with the outlaw sitting next to him. It almost felt like the good old days, which were mere a few months ago.
He thought back to the regiment and his fellow soldiers and friends who also would be sitting and laughing around a campfire. Those people were gone now.

He took another swig of Kvas.

"Why your brother angry? You sleep with his wife?"

Buoyed by the mirth he still felt, Pieter shook his head, "Blesed Sigmar, no. Worse, I questioned his allegiance and hi honour"

edgar arrived with mugs of hot spicy sweet tea and handed them out. he moved between the group politely keeping quiet, touching an arm here a shoulder there to indicate where hed placed their mugs.

he'd been taught by his mam not to disturb people in conversation so once everyone had been served he took the last mug and settled down nearby his back to a tree. cradling his hot mug he closed his eyes and let the noise of his friends and the forest behind him wash over him for awhile

Pieter had found Gunther sitting at campfire on the fringe of the camp, looking through his book. At the sound of approach the Nordlander looks up nervously, before relaxing when he sees it is Pieter.

Lukas, lost in his own thoughts is brought back to reality by the aroma of Edgar's honey'd tea, which seems a tantalising luxury after a day spent walking through the woods and a near death experience before that.

---

Having left his warnings on the oaks around them Klinka settled down to sleep. The dwarf could hear the rustle of conversations going on around him, but the noise level fell away as one by one the refuges began to turn in for the night.

He did catch a tired sounding Captain Schiller call for volunteers for the night watch.

---

Over by Granny's wagon Jocelin finds herself talking to Luciana, who greets her with a Tilean kiss to the cheek. The beautiful Tilean woman already looks frazzled (if still beautiful) but laughs and smiles at Jocelin's question. "None of my own own, but sì I have nephews and nieces back in Miragliano. Probably getting into trouble even as I speak." Bidding adieu, she heads off to join Gunther by his camp fire, the cut of her dress drawing more than one appreciative look from the men in the camp.

The wizardess finds herself speaking to Granny next. The old woman - and looking at her lined face Jocelin suddenly realises she has no idea how old she is - looks uncomfortable for a long moment, then sags a little and lets out a sigh that sounds like it had been hiding in her throat for years. "I may know a little magic dearie," she allows, her small but surprisingly sharp green eyes seeming to look into Jocelin's mind.

Lukas gratefully accepted the drink from Edgar and sipped the hot and spicy tea by the fireside.  In a life of little comforts it warmed him and he settled into the camaraderie of the camp fireside.  Of course, he had plenty of things on his mind.  He had a loyalty to those of Untergard and yet there was a part of him that just wanted to get far away and cast his old life as a charcoal burner away.  One of the other things that was at the forefront of his mind was the caravan being a relative source of safety.  They knew the beastherd was on the rampage and he had nearly died at the hands of the mutants.  Added to that was the thing that he and Pieter had seen in the forest and now there were elves too!

At the sound of Captain Schiller asking for volunteers for the watch, he did of course let him know he would do his part before returning back to the campfire settling near Pieter and Gunther.  He couldn't read so he didn't really know how long it would take to read a book or how it could retain interest for so long.

Turning to the rest of the group, he asked, "how long do you think it will take us to get to Middenheim?"

"Right. Why would you need sleep when you can stand on guard for the rest of the night." Klinka grumbled to himself, looking around the camp. With a sigh, he collected his belongings and made his way towards Captain Schiller. At least the man leading the group should get some sleep.

Personally, the dwarf was surprised they made it that far without any serious accident, not to mention an attack by the beastmen or bandits. Perhaps they were lucky enough to get through unnoticed. Or the group was large enough to make anyone think twice before attacking them.

At the campfire with Gunther, Pieter watched the flames carefully, speaking softly to the big brutish man

Glancing up when Lukas approached, they spoke a few words

Lukas smiled at the dwarf's grumpiness.  He assumed that because they could see in the dark then they also like to stay awake late into the night.  That said, he wasn't particularly worldly wise and knew almost as much about dwarves as he did elves.  They weren't always the friendliest but they were seen from time to time in Untergard.

"Of course!" Jocelin brightly whispered back to Granny after Luciana had left. "The winds touch so many of us differently, even our guests from the south... and Ghur is such a sensible one under the circumstances!"

Offering to help Granny prepare the redwort, she continued in a chatty way. "I'm sure the need for herbs and roots to provide for your charges is something even the squarest-jawed soldier could understand; did the Captain forbid you from leaving? Ugh, men!"

Fyodor pondered the sentence from Pieter and looked confused "AlGEance? Aaallll...Aggaagaa.." the word would not leave his mouth with the proper pronunciation.

He took a swig of his kvas and tried it again. Still no go. Finally he shrugged and passed the kvas to the outlaw.

"Brother want kill you?"

Pieter shook his head slightly and continued to speak quietly to Lukas

He smiled tightly as Fyodor offered another swig at the kvas, nodding more vehemently, "Kill? Maybe. Turn me to the Graf, for certain, though it might mean the Graf is the one who would kill me. He would not shed a tear"

Lukas nodded in assent at Pieter's words, feeling slightly more comfortable with a night on the road with beastmen at their back.

Granny Moescher looks at Jocelin shrewdly for a moment, then bustles off to her cart. "You look after the redwort dearie, I'll make us a couple of mugs of strong tea. Do you take anything in yours? Don't tell the dwarf or the Kislev-man but I might have a nip or two of something stronger somewhere."

---

The rest of the camp is settling down to sleep. There isn't much shelter but fortunately the weather has held off it's fury and the stars and moons wheel overhead, framed by the dark branches of the trees around you.

As Fyodor idly cleans his weapons a couple of watchmen approach - and one watchwoman, the tall, flaxen haired Hilde who the Kiselvarian remembers fought against the mutants back at the bridge. It is Hilde who speaks up: "Fancy a dice game northman? Keep our mind off the cold?"

One of her companions, a gangly youth in an ill fitting uniform Fyodor thinks is called Joachim nods and whispers: "We'd ask the dwarf but you know..."

He stops there, partially because Hilde has just smacked him across the back of his head wither hand (producing what sounds to Fyodor like a pretty hollow sound) and partly because he has realised that Harkrin is sitting not ten feet away, well within in earshot.

---

Lukas and Pieter find themselves in quiet conversation with his earlier companions.

edgar gathered the mugs up and went to the brook to swill them out before putting another branch on the fire. He tidied up his gear ready for breakfast in the morning and moved his bed roll slightly away from the direct heat.

Saying his good nights to his friends he took his blanket and rolled over onto his side. the sound of the woodland lulled him into sleep and it wasn't long before those close by could hear the gentle and steady sound of a halfling snoring.

Lukas thanked Edgar for the tea, before settling down to rest.  He knew he had a watch to come and needed to get some rest.  He just hoped the evening would be quiet, and the day after would be uneventful. After the last couple of weeks, a day without the appearance of elves, beastmen or mutants would be one he would be grateful for.  Somehow, he suspected he wouldn't sleep well.

"Da." the big man replied, grinned and gestured to the two guardsmen to take a seat next to him. One thing the Kislev knew well besides fighting and drinking was gambling.  He had never been an expert gambler, but he had always enjoyed the social aspect of it, including the occasional brawls when a cheat was discovered.

"Game? Noble's dice?" he asked.

OOC: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liar%27s_dice

Jocelin set to work peeling the toxic bark of the redwort to expose the beneficial interior. "Oh goodness, no, just tea, thank you Granny. I'm terribly fond of Schnapps, mind you, but it's a discipline not to get blown away in the Winds. Were you ever a student, or did you find your training among the hedgerows? Good experience there, among the Green and Brown. Certainly an opportunity to specialize, I'd say, and the children know how much help that can be, not cooped up in a library or laboratory, but helping."

Jocelin chattered on as she rendered the redwort, trying to put Granny at ease and pass the time.

Edgar quickly drifted off to sleep, near his equally tired pony. The halfing messenger was no stranger to nights outdoors and now he manages to find a comfortable spot to dream of pies and hairy footed maidens.

Nearby Lukas is drowsy but still awake, the gentle sound of snoring and a few lonely whispers of the awake reaching him. The charcoal burner may not exactly have volunteered to help keep watch but he has been left in the position anyway.

Near the edge of the camp quite the dice game was heating up. No one had much free coin but the excitement of rolling the bones was a lure in an of itself. Fyodor found the rules a little different from the games he knew in Erengrad but quickly picks up the pace. Gambling is gambling he reflects as the small group passes around a bottle of wine.

OOC: Fyodor decide how much you are betting, then roll Gambling.

---

Over in Granny Moescher's cart the old woman serves Jocelin a mug of herbal tea - hot, a little bitter but not unpleasant. It is cramped for the two women to sit but they find room.

"I got my training from Ole Dieter," Granny says. "Long time before you were born. Not like your city ways." She looks at you over the cup, her wrinkled face a picture of concern. "Now you won't say anything more to the others will you? They'd be having all sorts of notions about magic."