Time flies past without you even noticing it. By the end you have a headache and you cannot recall exactly what you read, but you can recall words you cannot even understand, some strange language you never heard before... yet, when you open the book, the instructions are written in quite common language.

The entire caravan is back and assembled in the common room. Everyone was successful at their assignments and the caravan is ready to start rolling on the morrow. You overhear Cristene and Randulf commenting to Vermillion about how they felt observed but could not really spot anything odd, well odder than could expected in a frontier city like this.

It seems quite a bit like the wizardry I've heard described before, where spells are things that have to be memorized and are almost like living things, "coming alive" when they're enacted and disappeared from the mind. Maybe that's what this is, maybe it's something else. I will need to experiment and study further.

I make sure to praise everyone who deserves it. I don't give out false praise, since that's humiliating rather than uplifting. I'll buy good ale and wine and of course pay to feed the caravan well, then a night in the city. If I can't rent out the entire inn and its stable for us, I make sure our rooms are next to each other.

Since Cristine, Randulf, and I all felt like we had been followed and watched, I want the guards to keep regular watch schedule. Just in case.

I just had an idea. Would it be okay to say that she was bright enough to hire a couple elves as guards? They don't sleep, so they must make better watchmen at night.

OOC : You can easily(ish) source a couple of elf guards in the city. Are you going to mention to them your encounter with the drow?

That's a good idea! Yes. Also that I ate one. And am a dragon. I am much more worried about the safety of the people with me than my own.

The two Elves speak quietly between themselves (in Elvish of course) for a while. Even if one was unable to understand Elvish one can understand that they are pondering the pros-and-cons of joining your caravan. They don;t ask for more money, seeming more interested in the route you intend to take. What is even more bizarre, they don't seem flustered about you mentioning being a dragon. And you get the feeling they took you quite literally at your word. After a very typical and prolonged discussion, Elves are never particularly bothered to rush things, they agree to join your caravan. After the necessary agreements are done and sealed over a platter of food, one of the Elves turns to you and states quite matter-of-fact that you will all have to follow their instructions when you come under attack by the drow.

Cristene and Randulf immediately pick up on this asking almost simultaneously 'when? you mean if?...'


To which the Elf only answers 'No, when is correct. The drow will not let what happened go on unavenged. It would be useful to know who was eaten. If it was a noble...' he does a very non-Elf shrug '...all of the drow will eventually come...'

I don't argue with the elves. I didn't think drow were following us, but if that's the case, well, elves would be the most likely to know. I agree to follow their instructions when we're attacked by drow, of course; I'm bringing them on for just that purpose.

I describe the drow as best I can remember, including what he tasted like and the events leading up to the drow trying to ambush us.

Everyone listening to your degustation of the drow looks a bit worse for wear. You get the feeling that it's probably better not to lean too heavily into the gastronomic qualities of people when in presence of, well, people...

There isn't a lot to describe. I didn't make a point of torturing him. I just thought our new elfin companions would have a better understanding of the situation with as much information as possible. Besides, that drow was evil and tried to murder all of you!

I feel embarrassed and a little huffy.

In the end, it's the caravan Master that brings the situation back to normality by showing up with a new round of drinks and asking about your plans for the next day. Is the caravan leaving? Is there anything else you are thinking of doing in the city? Should they be ready at first light?

We'll leave in the morning. Since we need to be on guard for drow, I believe we should leave two hours after dawn. Unless our elfin or the master think this is a bad idea, then we will go.

On the next day everyone is ready to move at the agreed time. The elves quickly dissapear into the countryside, doing their won scouting, which allows Cristene to stay closer to the caravan and she goes along chatting with Randulf. The day progresses leisurely. You notice there are less travellers on this portion of the road. You also notice that the temperature dropped quite a bit and, coupled with the overcast sky, it all makes for a slightly depressing journey. In due course, the midday arrives and the caravan makes a stop, everyone gathering for lunch, minus the elves that, after a short appearance mid-morning to give you the 'all clear' again disappear into the countryside. Even the lands looks different. Whilst before it was a patchwork of cropped fields, on this side of the fields the land is best described as tundra.

This environment, this land, is starkly beautiful.

I ask the caravan master why so few people live here. Is the ground bad for farming? Are there too many monsters, brigands, or other menaces?

I make sure to thank whoever does the cooking. Likely several people, since they're preparing a meal for a group.

The caravan explains that the land is very unforgiving. He points at the sky and says 'This' but a taste of what the weather is like in winter... also, because nobody lives here, nobody comes to live here... gets very isolated and there are many dangers here... all sorts of nasty critters and people... wise people tend to stay in the towns, there's an easier life there... no point chancing it in here...'

"Where does the city get its food and sundries, then?"

The lack of farms around is very strange to me, having never ventured far from the coastal heartland of civilization.

"Surely they cannot import all of it from elsewhere. That would be extremely expensive. How could anyone afford to live in the city?"

I like the cold. It invigorates me.

'There are farms west of the river, they share the land with Waterdeep. It's on the east where we are now that the land becomes rather... unfriendly... even so, the forst provides lumber, the river fish, it's not that hard for the city... now, where we are going into, that's a different story...'

"What is the next city on our route? How does the story change, as you say?"

'Well, we are going into Everlund, that's the next big town, but it's only a town and small at that. They are in the mountains, most of their stores are replenished by river, if it wasn't for the mines of old there would be no city in there...'

"What old mines? Have they played out but were once wealthy?"

Vermillion was overhearing the conversation and interjected at this point. 'There was a war many years ago. Silverymoon took control over the mines that belonged to Everlund. Everlund's revenge was to fortify the pass that Silverymoon depends on, the pass this roads leads into. Over time they came to an agreement, Everlund controls access and takes tolls, Silverymoon controls the mines. Everlund got rid of the miners and kept the traders. Probably more taxes that way... and less trouble...'
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:37, Tue 19 Dec 2023.

"I suppose it depends on what they mined," I comment.

I content myself with settling onto a cart to study the book of illusion spells more. It's mysteries cannot evade me forever!

The book's characters seemed to wave softly as you read them. You feel challenged to read just a bit more, but comprehension and awareness seem to slowly evade you the further you read. The soft wind, the daylight, become so soft that you barely noticed. You start to feel utterly relaxed. At the outer tip of your awareness, the sound of wind slowly moving the grass blades becomes noticeable.

BLAMMMMM!

Or that's what it sounds to you. Someone interrupts you talking at a speed that you cannot process in your state of trance. As they continue to blabber the sentences start to become more than loose words and you vaguely understand there is a nomad caravan coming your way.

The interruption gives me enough awareness to notice that this is not normal. My wandering attention and sleepiness are not the sort that would normally come with studying a difficult subject. No, this is more than that. I force myself to slam the book shut and put it away, then shake myself repeatedly to clear my head.

OOC - Happy Christmas!

With increased awareness comes realization of what you are being told. A large nomad caravan is on the move and heading your way. In the midst of your conversation one of the two elves also arrives. He kept his 'brother' watching the caravan, but he come sbearing good news. He mentions that the nomads are a large group but don;t seem an hostile horde. He muses that it might be good politics for you to meet their leader?...

I will need someone with me to study this book. I shake my head vigorously.

Then I ask the elf what he knows about the nomads and how he knows of them, before agreeing to go with him.

Some part of me - it's a small part but it's there - hopes the "caravan" is actually another group of bandits. Elf bandits. I resist the impulse to lick my lips.

'Eastern nomads...' he says, as if that was all the explanation needed. Seeing from everyone's reactions that this was obviously not any clearer he elaborates 'From the east, beyond the Anauroch desert. By the looks of it from the Ride plain. Looks like whole tribes on the move, not armies...'