We pick up with our road-weary crew (Merric, Kaleas, and Ehryk) arriving in the city of Fallcrest. A bastion of civilization, employment opportunities, and other diversions for those with the coin to afford such things.

The guards at the gate seem wary and watchful, several are posted on the walls and keep a careful lookout. When you are admitted to the city after the basic 'what brings you here?' and 'mind yourself' directives that all small men in some authority seem to thrive on, an officer, (Captain perhaps?) approached the group. "Hail, travelers. You have the look of adventuring types. If this is true, I have a proposition for you. You interested?" he asked.


OOC: Brom I'm figuring is hanging out near the tavern he was first employed at. Eanon and Ranndal, you can have been propositioned and perhaps are looking to bring more in to guarantee success. You can either be looking and find Brom or hanging near the gate and see the group propositioned by the same captain. I'll leave that up to you both for how it makes sense for you to join up.

P.S. Simple job. We'll pay to have you find and remove the source of the attacks on our supply route. We suspect kobolds, but we don't have the resources to mount a full-scale investigation outside the city.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:02, Sun 26 June 2022.

It was both a good and a bad sign that they were being approached for assistance the moment that they arrived. Good, in that it promised action to benefit the Vale. Bad, in that it implied unusual danger or urgency. The captain's summary of the problem - which Kaleas had no objections to hearing out - leaned toward the latter. He did, of course, ask after what they knew of the attacks thus far; knowing where the strikes had fallen would make the task much simpler, but if there'd been anything unusual in the raiders' tactics, that too was worth knowing.

Whether or not they followed up on the request wasn't entirely his decision, however; he then turned to Ehryk and Merric. "Are you willing to take this on? I feel that it's worthwhile, since it'll benefit Fallcrest, and hopefully head off anything worse that's in the offing, but I won't press if either of you object."

Nodding enthusiastically, Merric exclaims, "Oh, definitely. I didn't really expect when I started doing the adventuring things there'd be so many people so immediately in need of help. Really, it didn't start until I was traveling with you guys. Does this happen to you all a lot? Would be best to get a hot meal in first, all that road food makes me feel like I'm back in the monastery."

"Hrm. Maybe because I'm short I don't look as dependable." He measures himself against Ehryk and Kaleas as they walk.

Brom wandered to the market green.  He knew he wasn't the smartest guy around.  Viscini had told him so and mentioned how lucky Brom was to have a friend like him to make all the decisions.  Brom had the money they had collected for the King's taxes.  Now the dilemma.  What to do with it without Viscini around?

Brom had offered that if the Lord Warden was under the King, they could turn the 'taxes' over to him.  Viscini immediately opposed that idea and spun a tale about the corrupt Lord and the amount Markelhay took for himself.  Only a small fraction of the coin would ever make it to the King.  That was the reason they were here in the first place to make sure the proper taxes were collected.  Viscini would then personally turn them over to the King himself.  No one else could be trusted.  Brom guessed that made some sense.

Brom bought two apples at the green.  He was about to bite into one when he saw some kids watching others play tag.  They looked like they wanted to join but didn't due to hunger.  He knew what hunger was like.  Plus, he wanted to join the game too!

The big guy figured he wasn't going to starve anytime soon, so walked over and held out the apples.  "Here.  Eat."  The kids first reaction to seeing Brom was to run.  He sometimes forgot to turn off his scary face and softened into a smile.  He tossed the apples to them.

Once the apples were snatched up and the kids were in the middle of a bite, he walked over and tussled the boy's hair.  He then touched the girl on the shoulder, "Tag, you it."  The big guy then ran.

A half-elf, dressed and equipped for the wild, lingers near those to whom the Captain had been speaking, and waits for a moment when he won't be seen as interrupting any further discussion. Somewhat hesitantly, he walks over to them, hand raised in greeting.

"Oh, hey, folks," he says, "Yeah, I was talking to the Captain before you arrived. He told you the story, yeah? I thought maybe we could form a sort of team, you know. Safety in numbers and all that. Alright? Oh, I'm Ranndal. I don't want to fight, but I can swing an axe, if that helps. I'm ready to go now, if you want."

He seems like he would really like to leave town as soon as possible, though it doesn't seem like anyone really even notices him, for all that he stands out as an athletic figure bedecked with axes. Anyone who spends time with him notices that he has the slightly haunted look of those who have communed with or channeled primal spirits.

Kaleas looked the man up and down. He appeared capable enough, if perhaps a bit skittish. That, coupled with the nature and timing of his approach, might have been suspicious, but Kaleas intuited something else behind it. No, the half-elf was uncomfortable in the city for another reason.

Still, one point needed clarity. "I don't mind the added company, but if we're dealing with brigands then fighting is all but certain to be part of it, wanted or not," he replied evenly, softening it somewhat with a swiftly-added, "No more than necessary, of course. If words can sway them, I'm open to that."

In reply to Kaleas (msg # 6):

Ranndal looks glum. "Yeah, folk can be hard to reason with." He brightens. "But, hey, what kind of folk are you? He's a halfling, yeah, nice to meet you. Me, I'm a man. I mean, I'm a human man. But also one of my granddads, he married into a fairy family, so, yeah, I've got a bit of Feywild blood in me. But that doesn't mean I'm a bad guy! But, uh, what kind of person are you, eh?"

"Tierian," Kaleas smiled (as always, avoiding any show of teeth), "I've come from the west to help the Vale as best I can." It was a quick but sufficiently-accurate summary; longer talks about their respective life stories could wait for a better moment.

"My name is Kaleas; these fine fellows are Merric and Ehryk," he added, waving slightly toward each in turn as he introduced them, then returning his attention to Ranndal. "Do you have any others to bring with us?"



Per an earlier side scene post:

The pronunciation of Tierian, at least as Kaleas renders it, and allowing for it coming through a muzzle, is two syllables, the first one sounding like the words tier and year blended together, and the second one getting the emphasis and rhyming with bean, so essentially, t-year-een

Eanon wandered with a dark green hood, covering his fraid and messy locks of amber hair.
He disliked the cities, buzzing with life and sound. He was more for the calm of the outdoor, the open road and minor interactions.
That said, he enjoyed company, honesty and any soul he met which had a glimmer of genuine kindness or presence.

Wandering by, he noticed Brom, and had to constrain a laughter. The big burly man appeared as vicious as any, yet had a soul inside, that shone of purpose and distraught of malice. He turned, followed him, and in a kind word halted before or near him.

In a soft, warm tone, he removed his hood, displaying his deep green eyes and asked in slightly dialectic common.
"I seek employment. But I seek purpose equally. You strike me, by actions alone as someone whose ideology resemble mine. Do you perhaps seek or know of a task at hand that I could lend myself too. I am by no means a liability and have my own selection of abilities to bring along to assist. Again, if I am being to forward, my pardons."
He wondered if he overdid it, seemed to eager or misjudged it all. Chances had to be taken regardless.

Brom looked confused for a moment.  He didn’t remember hitting this man.  Maybe if the man pulled back the hood so he could get a better look he would recognize him.  If Brom had struck the man, he must have been a bad person for not paying his taxes.

He didn’t get the impression that was what happened.  This guy seemed nice.  Viscini had made sure tax evaders were punished with death and he obviously wasn’t dead.  Brom gave up trying to puzzle it out.

“I have to return taxes to King.  You could help.”  Brom offered.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:44, Tue 28 June 2022.

Eanon eyed the gruff man and smiled, but not to much.
"I would welcome that, any work is good work. I don't do idling well."
The scruffy clearly elven man, was adorned in mildly colored clothing, slightly loose clothing allowing for free movement and a partially treated staff in hand with curious marks, almosts as carved with a small knife and adorned with colors - pressed flowers and the likes.
They obviously made a curious bunch the two of them.
"Lead the way good sir. I would love to come along"

Brom waved goodbye to the kids.  It seemed there was work to be done.

"Uhhhh....."  Brom paused.  He was about to speak then paused again.  That was the problem right there.

"Brom does not know way.  Only Viscini knew way.  Brom never heard of King before Viscini.  Brom waiting for Viscini, but he not show."  He shrugged in confusion.

Ranndal brings only himself to this adventure. He starts checking his gear in preparation for moving out.

He explains a little more about himself. It's clear that he's not very experienced but eager to prove himself. He claims to be willing to be up in front, in a defensive role, should a fight occur, but it remains to be seen if he has what it takes to remain level headed under pressure.

As Kaleas introduces him, Merric offers a little wave.

Once Ranndal starts voicing his concerns, Merric speaks up, "Don't worry about it so much. Really, I've found in my vaaaast adventuring experience the key is to just not get eaten."

"Always good advice," Kaleas smiled to Merric's point.

"But if you'll forgive me for saying so, you seem unsure of yourself even though you carry yourself as knowing how to use that," he continued more soberly, with a nod toward Ranndal's weapon as he sought for a proper local phrase to express his thought. "Is this a matter of capable but unproven, or does something else trouble you?"

"Oh, yeah. No, friend. Yeah, I mean, it looks like we're gonna be side by side in some nasty situations, and you don't know me and I don't know you. Words only help so much with that, you know?

"But, yeah, I'd just as soon get out of here, and go where my axes are of more use, and if I'm attacked I can at least fight back."

He dons his pack, and doesn't even seem to notice the weight. "Is this all of us? I mean, yeah, because I thought I saw a big fella in town who looked a bit aimless, you know what I mean?"
This message was last edited by the player at 01:00, Thu 30 June 2022.

"It's not the size of the adventurer that matters, you know?" Merric protests as he returns with a bag of fresh bread. He offers some to the other three, before pulling out his knife to work on his own. Quick, steady movements slice the bread in twain as they walk. Juggling items from his pouches and the bags, he stuffs it with jam, sausage and slices some hard cheese to construct an improvised sandwich.

"But if you think he's just a misplaced mercenary, we might as well swell our numbers a little."

Kaleas accepts the offered bread with a quiet, "Thank you," though he has neither the resources or the knack to make anything fancier of it, and so proceeds to merely nibble a piece at a time when he isn't speaking. "The three of us are a little road-weary, and more importantly, need to resupply before we leave, but I see no reason not to bring others who are willing and able. Can you take us to him?"
This message was last edited by the player at 01:49, Thu 30 June 2022.