Fantasy World Creations

Location: Telan
Date: Sehstam 24, Lasdey, 795
Time: 06:00

---

All:
The next morning came quick, the sun still had yet to rise and the air blew cool on your skin. The smell of burning wood still hung in the air, and it will be that way for a few days yet despite the fires being put out. Marcas and a few of the villagers congregate at the north entrance to Telan proper carrying a few small bundles and holding the reins of three horses.

"Morning." the mayor says with tired look on his face. It would seem he spent the better part of the night awake and planning for the restoration work that will be done. "As promised, horses and some gear for the journey. Should be enough to get you to Caer Móg though you may need to hunt along the way."

The villagers hand over the packages of food and other travel supplies, expressing thanks as they do. Afterwards, Marcas offers another small wrapped package and folded piece of parchment. "Map of the Steppe," he says, and you can hear the exhaustion in his voice. "Other thing is a gift for any Wanderers you come across, they'll offer you shelter for nothing if you ask, but it's only proper to bring a gift."

"I want you to know, the whole town really appreciates you taking this journey. It's not going to be easy, but it could very well save the town if there's more of those little bastards waiting to raid us again. It might take some time to get an audience with the Righ, but try to come back with news as soon as you can. Good luck."

Marcas steps back to allow you space to mount your horses and offers a thankful bow, the villagers present do the same.

Spoiler

The gear you receive from the villagers includes any camping equipment you may already have in your inventory. If you don't already, you'll obtain a bedroll and blanket. It also contains the following:
Tinderbox x 1
Rations, Trail x 12 (Divided into 3 days of rations per person.)
Potion of Cure Light Wounds x 1

[close]

Map

(https://drive.google.com/uc?export=download&id=1yJTeD0CpH5AejeMEPMKO09o4j_qCUT-x)

[close]

---

---

"I should be the one thanking ya." Rhenri made sure to smile brightly when she was taking the offered food and travel supplies from the other townsfolk. She already brought all of her necessities in her pack, and was fairly prepared for the journey, but she wouldn't say no to the townfolks' help. She very well knew that gifts, both giving and receiving, was a great way for townsfolk to get acquainted with a person. For whatever reason, it made one seem more trustworthy. She would likely be living here in the town for the foreseeable future anyways, so being 'trustworthy' would at least play to her benefit.


"What's in the package?" Rhenri asked, not being able to help her curiosity on he package to be as a gift for Wanderers.

"Hm? Oh just a little knickknack. Knife with some scroll-work on the the handle. It's really not much but customs are customs you know" Marcas answers.

     Thedrin put a hand over his mouth as he yawned. Not even his time in the academy had required waking this early. "A king with no protocols and vagrants with proper gift exchange... What a land." He remarked, taking out the dagger looking at the blade for a second before returning it to the box. "What exactly do we do if we encounter more than one group of wanderers?"

"Be polite." Came the reply, and there was a certain amount of seriousness to the mayor's voice that implied the consequences of being rude to any nomads you met would be dire indeed.

     "Ah but of course, don't want to wind up a shrunken head on some steps tribe's totem." Replied Thedrin as he tied the saddle bags of supplies onto his horse.

"Yes. Quite." Marcas could not be bothered to correct Thedrin on what might actually happen if they managed to offend the very patient and magnanimous nomads of the Steppe. "You had better be off, don't want to waste daylight."

Spoiler

If no one has anything more to add, I'll move the thread along with my next post.

[close]

With very little in the way of fanfare, your party sets off along the road heading north. The first half of the journey, by reasonable estimate, will take about seven and a half days provided nothing terrible befalls you.

---

Location: Road North of Telan
Date: Sehstam 27, Resdey 795
Time: 15:00

The sun is beginning to set on the third day of your journey. The last two days have been pleasantly uneventful and the weather has been good. You can feel the change in season beginning, and with it a gentle breeze blows. Soon it will be time to discuss setting up camp for the night, but suddenly Scathach catches a scent on the wind.

"Oi smell ah campfoier. Make that a 'ole lot of 'em..." she says, and sniffs deep again. "East, proobably aboyt tree miles, jist over tha 'orizon dare." She points east and sure enough, the wind picks up again and you smell it as well. "Thoughts? It's an 'our oyt av tha way but cood be somethin' worth lookin' into."

     The three days on the road did not agree with Thedrin. The creeping chill of autumn made the nights in his simple bedroll practically unbearable. Oh how he wished for the warmth of a woman to survive the cold nights. Further, the meager rations they had been given before were starting to grow thin and he was pretty sure he would be out of food by tomorrow. The possibility of trading with a caravan wasn't one he wanted to turn down. "I say we take a look. It could be a caravan or perhaps the Wanderers."

---

---

"I ain't in any particular rush." Rhenri glanced at their last group member. "Howbout it, Cecilia?"

"It wouldn't hurt to investigate, though we should be cautious. This close to the road they're likely to be friends, but better safe than sorry." In the best case, they would have a large camp and safety in numbers, in the worst case they may have to continue on through the night. Cecilia felt the odds were in their favor, however.

Location: Nomad Camp North of Telan
Date: Sehstam 27, Resdey 795
Time: 16:00

After about an hour riding east off the road you find that the source of the smoke was indeed a collection of campfires and a sizable collection of yurts. Though you are still quite a distance away, another rider seems to have noticed you and quickly closes the distance; its a young human man wearing a robe-like garment with a high collar and a light coat over top. He waves to you amicably but stops at a distance of about 100 feet, a small but interestingly curved bow rests on his lap.

"Mendiležir! Greetings, travelers. You are friends?" he calls out in heavily accented common.

     Despite the relatively primitive nature of the yurts laid out before Thedrin, after three days of roughing it curled in a bedroll they appeared as welcome as a palatial estate.  "I assume these are the wanderers."  He said to Scathach as the rider approached them before calling out to them.  "Hail fellow travelers. I am Thedrin Ashewake, knight errant, and we are on a quest to travel to Aite-Aerd and come in peace."

---

With this stranger before them at a 100 ft. away, Rhenri couldn't help but glance around the area as well if there might be others watching them that could be hidden.

"Aye, that's them." Scathach replied.

Rhenri's Perception

You barely notice an additional four people hiding in the tall grass nearby.

[close]

---

"Very good! Come, rest for the night. Warm fire and food if you like. A big group keeps the predators away too." the man smiles as he replies, then gives a sharp whistle.

From the tall grass nearby, four other people step out as if un-melding from the darkness and the underbrush; three men and one woman, each wearing a mid length cloak the color of which could only be described as "nondescript". One of the men nods at your group, before turning his attention back to the darkness of the steppe.

"Come, let The People give you our hospitality." the rider says before turning his horse back toward the camp.

     "Of course, I'm glad we have come across some small fragment of civilization in these lands. Perhaps a meeting with your chieftain is in order? I have been told we should present some kind of gift." Said Thedrin as he caught up to the horseman.

"Of course of course, the elders will want to meet with you. I am sure your gift will be well received."

Eventually, your group arrives at the outer edge of the collection of yurts. The man who rode in with you hops down from his mount and ties the reins to a nearby post, indicating some places to secure your own horses.

The camp is lively, around 30 people total move about doing the last of their daily chores; each of them regardless of gender or age carries a weapon of some sort either holstered at their side or slung across their backs and all of them wear some variant of the clothing the rider that met you wears. There are children present as well, some as young as probably three or four years old running around playing games. A handful of them stop their play to gawk at you for a few moments speaking to each other in a language you cant understand before running off again.

The yurts that make up the camp are arranged in a rough semicircle around a handful of sizable campfires. Each of the circular tents is probably large enough to comfortably hold a family of five and is basically the size of a very small house. Near the campfires, there are some women cooking the evening meal in large stewpots. The smell of heavily spiced meat and vegetables wafts through the air, promising a hearty meal.

The rider leads you to a specific Yurt, somewhat smaller than the others but still large enough that several people could fit inside comfortably. The outside is decorated with broad stripes of blue on white. He pulls aside the heavy curtain functioning as a door and motions you inside, where you find what you can only presume are the elders; one woman and two men, all three are old but not showing any sign of it. To the contrary despite their lined faces and streaks of white hair each of them looks to be in incredible physical fitness. One of the men stands and offers your group a short half-bow.

"Mergen you've brought guests, a joyful occasion. Welcome travelers, our hearth is yours tonight."

     As they proceeded through the encampment Thedrin looked at their primitive homes. They were crude at a look from the outside but at the same time spacious for traveling compared to the tent he had to leave behind. Of course, after a few nights of enduring the hardship of his bedroll, anything would appear a welcome respite. He looked over the tribe itself as well, their unisex garb disappointing him as he tried to inspect the women. There was too much bundled up for him to get a good idea of their physical traits and while a little left to the imagination usually intrigued Thedrin, an entirely mysterious body was a bore. He sighed, resigning himself to a lonesome night once again as they came up to the leadership's tent. "Ah yes, of course. I am Thedrin Ashewake, knight errant, we're on our way to Aite-Aerd from Telan. We come bearing gifts." He said as he pulled out the box with the dagger and presented it one handed to the man that had greeted them. "And you would be...?"

"I am Kaigal-Ool, first among the elders in this Gathering. This is Sayin-Khöö and Kañ-Ool." He replied, gesturing first to the woman and then the other man. He took the box from Thedrin's outstretched hand and bowed slightly, "The People thank you for your generosity. It is good that the old ways still continue in these darkening times."

Kaigal-Ool gently placed the box containing the gift dagger on a nearby low table before turning his attention back to your group. "Come, let us eat and share news of the Steppe the evening meal should be nearly finished. It has been too long since we last had guests and this is cause to celebrate."

---

Outside, it seems most of the people living in the camp had begun to gather near the central bonfires to sit, eat, and socialize. Laughter and conversation fill the air as the nomadic peoples settle in for some relaxation after a hard day herding. Kaigal-Ool offers you each a bowl of spicy smelling stew full of vegetables and mutton. Atop the fragrant dish floats a dollop of yogurt, most likely made from steppe bison milk. In addition to this, into four clay cups he pours what is easily recognizable as wine, and a quick glance of the bottle indicates its of a particularly fine vintage.

"We received this as a gift some time ago when last we had visitors. I know our traditional drinks are... not suited to the tastes of the Settled People, and how can one be hospitable if your guests are not enjoying themselves." The elder offers your group seats on folding stools and sits down himself. "Food first, then some entertainment, after we can trade news friends. Please enjoy yourselves."

---

Following the meal, several of the nomads fetch a variety of instruments from nearby yurts. The collection includes a handful of small drums and a stringed instrument you aren't familiar with, but it resembles something like a violin with a long neck and small octagonal body. The trio of musicians begin to play a slow but powerful song with a deep thumping beat and forceful yet melodic rhythm. One of them sings out in a clear voice with words you cant understand but they sound important, the other players join in a chorus of low throat singing. Accompanying this, a pair of younger women begin a slow, sweeping dance. They've shed the more conservative outfits that seemed to be the norm for the camp and are now wearing long flowing high collared robes that cinch tight at the waist. The song, and its dance continue for a few minutes before they switch up the tempo into something more fast paced, and the dancers respond in kind. Eventually, the performance comes to an end and the performers are met with applause.

---

While the nomads return to their evening revelry, Kaigal-Ool and the other elders turn to speak with your group. "So, what news elsewhere on the steppe? We saw a large cloud of smoke on the horizon several days ago to the south, is all well?"

---

"Goblins actually." Rhenri replied. "Our town of Telan was attacked by a lot of them, caused some fires they did. We done killed the lot of them and lookin' for more though. Y'all had trouble with goblins yet?" Rhenri asked, curious to see if the goblins attack was something more widespread.

Dinner

     Thedrin wrinkled his nose at the strong scent of the meal. The stew lacked subtlety with its powerful spices and the yogurt exuded a terrifyingly tangy smell that almost made his eyes water. He picked at the meal to get to the meat, nibbling on the mutton only to be almost overcome by its spice. He coughed and grasped for the first drink he could, surprised to find it a fine vintage wine. "Oh thank goodness, wine! And good wine too, better than anything the village produced." He said as he took another drink. Another cup later and he was a little bolder in his consumption of his meal. The wine helped to lubricate his tastebuds and he managed to eat the meat and vegetables but not even the finest wine could get him to go for the yogurt.

---

     When the dancing girls began to shed their thick garb Thedrin perked up only to be disappointed by their only slightly less modest garb. His disappointment came out in a sigh as he mumbled. "And here I was hoping it was going to be like one of Shalette Mornigaunt's parties. No bangles, no sarongs, no carefully painted bodies, no Shalette Mornigaunt and her... assets." He mused as he drank the remains of the wine in his cup, the last of the bottle offered by the tribe, and leaned back to try and digest the foreign stew assaulting his delicate intestines. "Oh what I would do for a glass of port right now." He said absentmindedly.

---

     Thedrin, now getting more and more uncomfortable with the spicy stew warmly slithering through his guts, perked back up at the question of their quest. "Yes, goblins. Terribly troublesome creatures. They had the gall to attack the village just a few days ago."

"There is always trouble with goblins..." Kaigal-Ool answers, and his peers nod in agreement. "Though it seems of late they have grown more bold, though I cannot say I know why."

"They have taken to trying to harry us as we make our journey across the Steppe to the shelter of the east mountains. Easily slain, but daylight wasted fighting delays our arrival before... what is your name for it? The Dark Time?" the woman, Sayin-Khöö adds. "Other Gatherings have told us similar tales when we cross paths."

"It is distressing to hear they have attacked your village, we hope you will recover quickly. This Gathering will send a rider south with what aid we can spare, the herd is large this year and it is only right we help a friend in need. Where is it you travel to?"

     "We head for Aite-Aerd to petition the Righ for troops so that I can lead a force to exterminate the pests." Replied Thedrin. "A simple task but one requiring haste nonetheless. Speaking of which, we require some additional food for the trip. Surely you are capable of providing some rations to see us to the next settlement?"

"I see, I have heard your Righ is a good man. I am sure he will send the fighters you seek. As for travel rations, we certainly will provide you with enough to reach the next town before you leave tomorrow."

Kaigal-Ool motions for a man who is standing nearby to come closer and says something to him in the language of the nomads. "Anay here will provide you space in his yurt to rest for the night when you are ready. This Gathering will remain here for another day so do not feel as though you must depart too early."

---

"Thank ya kindly." Rhenri said in an effort to be friendly. These people were strangers, so she couldn't help but feel stiff. "I'm sure the yurt will be a mighty fine upgrade to the camps since." Rhenri smiled at Anay and threw him a gentle wink.

She wasn't sure if Anay understood their language, given the fact Kaigal-Ool spoke to him in their own language. But at the very least, she hoped the smile and wink was something more universal.

"To aid another, is to aid oneself." Anay replied with a nod, clearing up Rhenri's curiosity about his linguistic skills. "The Steppe is a hard place without friends."

Eventually, the energy of the evening meal died down and people returned to their yurts; except of course a number of sentries in their distinctive yet unremarkable cloaks that had come by to get something to eat one at a time as the night progressed. Anay guided your party to his yurt, which was large enough to comfortably house the five of you and provided remarkable shelter against the cold evening air.

---

Location: Nomad camp north of Telan
Date: Sehstam 28, 795
Time: ~0600

In the morning, when at last all of your group was awake you met with Kaigal-Ool at the edge of the encampment. The elder carries with him four small packages wrapped in some kind of course fabric. "Rations for your journey. It should be enough to reach the next settlement without having to stop and hunt. Travel safe, the Steppe is more dangerous than it has been."

---

Resuming your ride north, the weather remains clear and the air crisp and eventually after an uneventful day the sun begins to set once more. The following day however, you awaken to find that a thick fog has settled over the land reducing visibility a considerable amount and by noon the sunlight that filters through the overcast sky has failed to warm the air enough to disperse it. Suddenly, Scathach quietly calls for a halt.

Location: Road Between Telan and Caer Mog
Date: Sehstam 29, 795
Time: ~1300 - 1700

After your protracted encounter with the ambushing kobolds in the mist, the rest of your day proceeds more smoothly. Scathach rides ahead to scout the road, keen on preventing another unpleasant surprise. After traveling for another few hours, she returns to the rest of the group to report she's found a copse of aspen trees another couple of miles ahead that would make a good campsite for the night. The cold mist from the morning has still yet to dissipate, and the amber light of the setting sun gives the impression you are riding through a golden cloud.

"Su. Thoughts on usin' the wee woods as shelter for the night?"

---

"Sounds 'bout alright with me." Rhenri replied.

     "Anything to keep the ungodly wind of the steppe out."  Remarked Thedrin. His mind was already drifting back to the warmth of the yurt from the night prior. The plethora of shaggy hides and furs was especially appealing given the chilling mud and dirt that had sullied his clothes when he fell into that damned put. The memory was made even warmer by the phantasm of one of those nomad girls curled up at his side maybe with a less windswept face, a wider set of hips, a more voluptuous chest, a more revealing dress, nay no dress, warm lips, soft hands...  Thedrin blinked and shook his head before letting out a huff to dispel his wandering thoughts. "How far to the Righ was it again?"

"Aboyt fifteen days ride from Telan. We've gone aboyt foive, another two should 'ave us 'alfway and in the town of Caer Mog where we can find an inn and restock" Scathach answered. "Then it's another seven days to Aite Aerd."

     "Great, at this rate I'll die of trenchfoot before we even make it to Caer Mog."  Remarked Thedrin as he vainly brushed at the mud that had stained the doublet beneath his scale shirt.

Scathach turned her mount around to lead the group to the campsite she had found. The ride there went by quickly and without event, and before too long you find yourself in a small clearing surrounded by tall white-barked trees. After another half hour, your camp is erected and the half-elf hunter takes the first watch.

As the camp gets set up, Cecilia volunteers for the final watch. "I'd like to take the last watch, if you don't mind."
The adventure had been quite something so far and she was eager to rest after her near death encounter.

---

The night passes with merciful peace, though on occasion the quaking of the trees in the breeze is eerie enough to sound like something sinister waiting in the darkness.

---

Location: Caer Mog
Date: Oaeksaber 1, 795
Time: ~1900

When dawn arrives you find that the heavy fog from the day before has finally blown away and is replaced by an overcast autumn sky. After packing up, you continue on the road north and follow it as it bends slightly east. Two uneventful days of riding under the grey sky eventually leads you to the outskirts of Caer Mog.

For the last hour you've been riding past scattered farmhouses, recently harvested fields of Highland wheat, and fenced off pasture. Occasionally you spot a farmhand out with the small herds of domesticated aurochs the settled people of the steppe tend to ranch. They wave at you as you pass, serving as both a greeting and a check to make sure you bear no ill will toward them. Before long the village is in sight.

The sun is beginning to set as you ride into Caer Mog, a village about the same size as Telan that is about halfway on the journey north to Aite-Ard. A sleepy looking militiaman slouches by the wooden posts that serve as a gate into town, leaning heavily on one. He doesn't bother to call out to you, simply waving you on into the village with a lazy sweep of his hand. He yawns wide while doing so.

The village, much like any other one out on the step is laid out in a familiar manner. Inside the wooden walls that serve as bulwark to hostile creatures out on the steppe, the unpaved streets are laid out in an easy to navigate grid. At the center, you know there will be a village square where the open air market would be operating had it not been so late in the day. Unlike the one in Telan, the meeting hall in Caer Mog has a surprisingly high minaret that protrudes from its roof, the tower is at least 80 feet tall by your estimate and probably offers a commanding view of the flat expanse that is the Great Highland Steppe. Certainly a boon for the local watch.

"Take a gander at that huge thing. Should get one of our own back home. Bet you could see for miles up there" Scathach says with a low whistle. "Right then. I'm proper knackered from ridin' all day, you wanna see if we can't get a room somewhere?"

     "Lovely Lady of the Lake yes, an inn, and a bath, and a laundry." Said Thedrin as they made their way down the street. "Not to mention a real hot meal. That nomad's stew was not meant for a proper constitution."

---

"I wudden mind a proper bath myself. Maybe I can sell a couple of these trinkets we got earlier tomorrow mornin' too." Rhenri said as she lightly played with the beads and bracelet in one of her pouches.

"I can do some shoppin' tomorrow for the rest of us if y'all have anythin' y'all want." Rhenri offered.

"We can come up with a list once we find soomplace to stay. First we need tah foind a place tah sleep..." Scathach replies, then trails off to turn an tap a passerby on his shoulder. "Say, where's the inn?"

The man, confused for a moment at first about being asked stares at the four of you for a moment before realizing what was asked of him. "Oh, uhh... Well there's three in town so I guess you can take your pick? They're all pretty close together actually so you don't have to walk all over. There's the Stardust Knight, the Unbreakable Diamond, and the Golden Breeze."

     "This Stardust Knight sounds like the best of them. I didn't think these folk even knew what a knight was but I gather the proprietor must have a familiarity with proper class to pick a name like that."

"Oh, yeah he ain't from around here. Fancy chap from down south. Dunno why he'd want to move all the way up here, not that I don't love the steppe, but you know... Albion being what it is." The man shrugs his shoulders. "Anyway, it's up that street there a short ways. Can't miss the sign out front." he thumbs in the general direction of a nearby street before turning to leave.

After the man takes his leave, you head down the street indicated and eventually spot the inn in question. A wooden sign hangs off a pole sticking out from the eves depicting a knight in purple and green painted armor, below the knight the name of the inn is printed.

Inside the large common room you find it to be rather busy. Travelers and local patrons mingle, chatting loudly over drinks while a bard in a patchwork cape stands atop a small box playing a lively tune on his flute. In one corner you spot a older man with a wild look to him sitting by himself. Though the room is busy, there are still a handful of tables that are unoccupied and there are open spots at the bar where the the proprietor, a man with an elaborate mustache and a colorful cravat, serves drinks.

     Thedrin made his way to the bar and approached the barkeep. "Hello there sir. Do you happen to have a room for a knight errant and his companions? We're making for Ait Aerd and need lodgings for the night."

"Why of course my good man, the most comfortable rooms in the entire town and for a reasonable price to wit. It will be a short wait as they are prepared for you, feel free to order a meal and something to drink. We have a robust collection of imported wines, as well as local ales if you prefer."

It is evident to anyone listening to the proprietor speak, that he is not a native of the region. His accent marks him as someone who lived most of his life in the territories surrounding Albion's capital.

     "Wine! Oh yes please wine!" Exclaimed Thedrin at the mention of imports. "Tell me, do you have anything from the southwest shore of the lake?"

"I have precisely the vintage you're looking for." the proprietor says, then pulls a dark green bottle from below the bar with a flourish. "An inviting oaken nose with hints of citrus, mellow body, slightly dry, and a touch of chocolate and spice on the finish." The cork is removed from the bottle with a satisfying pop, as he goes about describing the beverage. Eventually he whips a stemmed glass from the rack behind him and pours without asking.

"Enjoy a taste of home, your rooms will be ready shortly." He slides the glass across the bar before turning to one of his employees and gives a sharp whistle. The girl bows short then hurries off upstairs, presumably to ready the room.

---

Meanwhile...

---

As Thedrin made a bee-line for the bar and began chatting with the proprietor, Scathach found an open table and took a seat. She thumped a hand on the tabletop a few times indicating that while nothing better was going on, you may as well sit.

---

Rhenri took a seat on the open table, she planned to order proper drinks and a meal before the end of the day. She took a deep breath as she settled in the chair. It's been over half a tenday since they've set off from Telan after all, with naught but the wilderness around them. She remembered her own travels years ago when she was fleeing from Valtz; that journey itself was long, with the rare occasional stop as taverns such as these. Back then when she was fleeing from Valtz and laying low, she avoided taverns and potentially crowded places such as these. She made stops at villages to resupply of course but never stayed too long at all. How many years has it been? Three? Maybe four?

This time around, she wasn't just blindly traveling though without any destination in mind. She didn't feel as constrained or pressured either. Truly, she felt like she could even enjoy travelling. She had companions from Telan, and felt more comfortable with her position in life. She hoped that it didn't make her complacent however.

She glanced at both Scathach and Cecilia. She kept an eye on Thedrin too, but seeing him busy himself with talking to the proprietor, Rhenri let herself fall into the comforts of the tavern.

"So either of you travel around much?" Rhenri asked, her question coming more from reminiscing about her own travels than a curiosity for her companions.

     Thedrin watched the girl head upstairs, wishing her skirt was short enough to allow a glimpse of her thighs, before turning back to the glass of wine.  A single sip and he sighed with delight.  "Ah...  A fine vintage. Just like they served at the knight's academy..."  His uncle cared little for wine and kept a paltry cabinet of rather than the full cellars he was used to and nothing from back in Albion so while it was nothing but a common table wine by Albion standards it was still the best he had had in months.  He placed a small stack of gold coins on the bar.  "For the room, laundry, a hot bath, hot meal, and this wonderful bottle of wine.  Also a gratuity for you and your staff."  He said, taking another sip of wine.  "Tell me, what brings you out to these parts.  It's a long way from the shores of the lake."

"Much appreciated good sir. As for my present situation, to tell the truth, I have only just arrived within the last year. I don't know how long you've been away but things tumultuous back home. The rumor was there's been some dissent brewing, and not just among the unlanded. Some of the higher ups in both the Academy and the Mage's College have been unhappy with the way the king has been ruling. I didn't stick around to see if it was true. Civil unrest is both bad for business and one's health."

---

Across the room...

---

"Never too far from Telan. Haven't 'ad much of a reason to. Since me folks passed, oi felt it would be a shame to leave the home they left for me so oi kept huntin' in the area."

     "I've been in the Steppe for only a few months but took a long route to get here. What was the unrest about?"  Thedrin asked. He hadn't been particularly involved in the politics of the kingdom. Sure, he knew something of the "quiet game" as his grandmother had put it but with the head of his house set to belong to his brother Thedrin had paid little attention to the political interplay of the noble houses beyond finding out who's daughters were most attractive and looking for a fun tryst.

---

"There's a wide world out there." Rhenri replied to the ranger. "I reckon you'll do mighty fine if you do decide to venture, hell, you've taught me a thing or two about what it's like being out here. But I cain't really say much, truth be told, I haven't had a reason to travel much either since I first arrived."

The proprietor leaned a little closer and glanced quickly to his periphery, checking to see who might be listening to the conversation. "The word is... there is a faction of people in power that think it's been too long since Albion expanded its borders and influence... They seem to want to push for annexation of new territory. The king is against this, naturally, since he's always been a proponent of peaceful coexistence but a large portion of the populous seems to have been swayed... I'd be careful if you travel south in the future."

---

Back at the table...

---

"We'll oi do suppose oy'm out an about now. Nawt been all too bad, 'cept that one's blubberin'." Scathach gestured towards Thedrin, still in conversation at the bar.

Before the conversation can continue, you notice that the older man that was sitting in the corner has stood up and is making his way across the room to your table.

     "I see..." Mused Thedrin as he sipped on the wine. No doubt the quiet game was afoot. He wondered where his family was in the game before remembering that he was effectively barred from play until he got a proper title. Not that he particularly wanted to play but being disowned and dishonored he would emerge onto the field alone and unable to leave such things to other family members as he has before. He would need a court of his own. His gaze went to the table where the others sat. A hedge wizard, poachers...  It was no royal entourage... but it was a start.

     "Thank you for your hospitality and word from home." Said Thedrin as he stood and took the bottle of wine. He raised his glass in a toast to the innkeeper before turning to join the others at their table, arriving at the same time as the newcomer.  "Who's this?" He asked with an arched eyebrow and a motion to the older man.

"Dunno." Scathach replied, eyeballing the man as he finished his approach of the table.

On closer inspection, you can see he is likely in his late 50s. Dark tanned skin implies he's spent most of his life outdoors in the hot sun, and his posture marks him as someone that has spent a long time doing strenuous work. His outfit, a simple rough tunic with a hide coat over top suggests he is less than affluent but likely not a beggar. His beard, long and wild, hides a wide mouth with a few missing teeth.

"I know your type" he says in a graveled voice as he puts a hand on the table. "You're 'venturers. You got the look about you, same as me some thirty years by. I've got something you might have an interest in..."

     Thedrin wrinkled his nose at the "adventurer" and his impoverished appearance. "Ugh, I think you underestimate us grave robber. We are on an important quest. Not... whatever it is you're doing these days."

"Dying by degrees." The man replied flatly, looking into Thedrin's eyes for an uncomfortable amount of time. "Seen an awful lot of your type too. They don't live long."

The man turned to Cecelia, "You on the other hand, look like a bright lass. I'll bet you're handy with a spell." He paused and pulled a rolled parchment from his inner coat pocket. "You in particular should be interested in this."

"When I were a younger man, I found this in a bandit treasure hoard while out on a job. It's a map you see, a very old one, the writing is in script long dead." He takes the binding off the scroll and lays it flat on the table. "Tried to get it translated, you know how these things are, you find a map, there's treasure at the end yeah? 'Cept nobody could seem to figure out more than this bit right here, a name. Amhra Dhuarcáin, if you don't know who that is it wouldn't surprise me. Long dead wizard of some long dead clan, but that's all I could ever find in thirty years."

Cecelia

A cursory glance at the map and its writing reminds of you of something in the book you bought at the festival.

[close]

"The point here I'm getting at, is you being the 'venturing sort, perhaps I could interest you in a little trade. As you can see, a life on the road fighting monsters and bandits has taken it's toll. Gold saved from 'quests' as your friend puts it only lasts so long when saved and my twisted body can't work as it used to. I sell old tokens of my adventuring days to keep fed."

The man rolls the parchment back up and slips the tie back around it. "A mere forty silver for a chance to find an untouched treasure is an easy trade... I would think."

---

"Forty silver ain't too bad." She glanced towards her companions gauging their interest. But either way, she pulled out a gold coin. "If we are to take a treasure, I reckon we'll all be involved with findin' it and sharin' what we find. I'm all for a bit of a side venture if y'all are up for it. Might even be along the way to Aite-Aerd. So here's my share of the payment."

Rhenri dangles the gold coin between her fingers waiting for the rest to come to a decision.

Cecilia looked at the map that the old man held. She knew she had to have it. "Even if nobody else is interested, I need that map. It seems similar to a book that I picked up in town. If anyone else is interested, of course I welcome the company in deciphering what it could mean."

Rhenri's Sense Motive

You are fairly confident that the man has told nothing but the truth, and just wants to get enough money to make it through another couple weeks.

[close]

"We have a deal then?" The old man said, eyeing the coin under Rhenri's finger.


When the transaction was complete the old man smiled. "You've kept an old man fed for another week, I wish you luck where my own failed me." The man rose from his seat after pocketing the money and wandered over to the bar to order a meal. In nearly the same instant, one of the young women that worked in the establishment sidled up near your group.

"Your rooms have been prepared, you may retire when ready." After a short bow she ambled away to see to other patrons, leaving the four of you alone at the table.

"Su, bed?" Scathach asked.

---

"Sounds good." Rhenri replied, agreeing to the sentiment, and ready to rest the night herself.

     Thedrin looked at the offered gold quizzically for a second before it dawned on him its purpose.  "Oh, I guess we could share the room...  Just uh, don't interrupt.  Also, I'll be taking first bath."  He said as his eye drifted to the young lass that had gone upstairs to prepare the room.  "Hopefully not alone...  Don't wait up."  He said as he made a beeline for the girl. "Ah! My savior! I really need to talk to you about my laundry."

Thedrin:

---

"Ah, yes?" The girl replied, spinning on her heel while deftly balancing a tray of very full steins. "Was there something more you needed?"

Spoiler

If you're planning on playing this out for an extended amount, we can move it to a side thread. Just let me know after you make your initial reply.

[close]

---

Everyone else:

---

"Well then, Oi'm going tah head up and drop off my things" Scathach said, rising from her seat. "Let me knu if that one earns 'imself a slap."

     "Oh but of course, nothing too urgent though. Perhaps we could go somewhere more... private?"

Thedrin:

---

In response to your overtures, the serving girl flushes slightly. It seems, you have this one in the bag.

---

Everyone:

---

Location: Caer Mog
Date: Oaeksaber 2, 795
Time: 0600

Dawn breaks on another chilly autumn morning, the light of the climbing sun peeks through the windows of the inn room and from somewhere beneath you the smell of frying bacon greets you. Thedrin's coital gambit seems to have paid off in more ways than one, as you find a tray of breakfast sitting covered in front of the doors to the rooms; a small note indicates they are complimentary.

When your morning preparations are complete, you leave the Stardust Knight and step out into the brisk air, already the streets are starting to fill with early risers heading to the market in the town square. "Market first, tah restock? Or get oon the road?" Scathach asks.

     "Market, hopefully to find something more enticing than hardtack for supply."  Replied Thedrin, as he stretched his arms out.  He was bathed, in a freshly laundered set of clothes, and feeling very refreshed by his night despite getting a less than optimal amount of sleep.  "Oh civilization does the body good!  The tales of knight errants back home apprently glossed over the parts with the mud and hypothermia.  So nice to get a real nights rest.  That gentleman was from Albion you know.  Would you believe me if I told you that the lodgings back home are even better? How far is it supposed to be to Ait Aerd from here?"

"Yeah 'tis 'ard livin' outside yer plush mansions innit? Naw silk cushion for yer arse." Scathach replied teasingly. "At any rate, it 'ill be aboyt another week before we git there. Provided somethin' doesn't 'appen along the way."

Your group heads further into town, milling about with others as you make your way to the town square where the market sets up every day but Resdey. Once there, you find a small sea of stalls offering a wide variety of wares. Produce, dried foodstuffs, medical supplies, and trinkets are all on display for anyone with a desire to lighten their coin purse.

     "Silk: the fabric of the nouveau riche. Soft and pliable sure but eventually falls prey to moths. Though I guess the ladies do like their silk. Myressa Dansuth swore by her silk unmentionables but let me tell you from experience: unless you used as little material in your unmentionables as she, the chafing quickly gets unbearable if you intend on doing anything other than lounging in a parlor.  Now a good stoat fur cushion, well maintained by diligent servants, that is true luxury that only the diligence and care of a proper lineage tends to foster. Grandmother always preferred wolf cub fur though. Hunted them herself apparently until the old crone couldn't heft a crossbow."  Remarked Thedrin as he looked over the stalls.  The local baker had some kind of dense nut and honey cake they claimed would serve a day's nutrition and endure the trip. It was miles better than the hardtack he had bought on short notice before so he bought a little more than a weeks worth. None of the other trinkets he saw were worth much of a look but he did get a cot to replace the one he had forgot to pack in his haste and distraction. Anything to avoid sleeping on the hard ground for another week.

---

Not one to go extravagant, Rhenri searched the stalls for basic trail rations, enough to hopefully last the next leg of the journey. While she was going through the stalls, she made sure to look for any place that might be willing to buy the lapis beads they had earned in the kobold fight from before.

"I should restock while we are here as well, don't want to run out of food on the trail. Who knows what we will run into next."

An hour later when your shopping is complete you finally set back out on the road. Aite-Aerd is yet a week away, and you steel yourselves for another lengthy ride to the north-east. As the day progresses, a stiff wind picks up from the east. Small swirls of dead grass are blown up by the intermittent gusts and the long grasses that stretch out to the horizon undulate like waves on the sea.

---

Location: Road between Caer Mog and Aite-Aerd
Date: Oaeksaber 4, Mittdey, 795
Time: ~1200

---

A few days of uneventful riding finds you halfway between Caer Mog and your destination. The sun shines high from its zenith and the occasional gusts of wind that picked up when you left town have yet to calm. A short distance away, near the road, is a small pond where you can rest for a spell and let your mounts get something to drink. Indeed it seems that it would be time for a break anyway, as the horses begin to pull against their reigns in the direction of the watering hole.

With your "break" at the watering hole at an end, you continue riding northwest. Hours turn to days, and days into nights as you trek along the road to your destination. Mercifully, you are not met with any more hardship in the next few days than a light cold rain that persists for a few hours the day after your encounter with the hyenas.

The morning of the 6th begins like every other day on the road, a brisk breakfast, the breakdown of camp, the mounting of horses. After half a day off travel though, finally your destination is in sight...