[D&D 5e] Un-Civil Disorder on the Border IC

[Vikingkingq]

It is late summer sliding into autumn as you arrive in the town of Yellowgrass, and the chill breeze cuts nicely through the blazing sun and the choking dust of the road. It isn't a big town, but Yellowgrass does sit on the Great Northern Road so it gets a fair share of trade from merchants and the like, and you'd heard that there might be work for individuals of your...unique skill set there.

Up ahead at the crossroads which doubles as the town's market square, there is a low stone well where travelers can slake their thirst. You pause for a few minutes to savor the crisp coolness of the water and as you do, your eye is drawn to a large wooden message board that's been erected next to the well. Alongside faded advertisements for upcoming harvest festivals, lost livestock, and the like, there is a fresh announcement. Written in a bold hand on fresh vellum, you read:



SOLDIERS OF FORTUNE!

His Lordship Lucan MacBethan, Laird of Passfurd and Castellan of the Last Tower seeks men of ability and experience in arms for employment in protecting his lawful rights and property and the persons of his servants as they undertake their sworn duties in these disorderly times.

To men who prove their worth and loyalty in his service, his Lordship will provide some ten gold crowns per septimanae as well as hospitality under his roof.

Those seeking to serve under the banner of Clan MacBethan should seek out Captain Rebus McIntyre in the common room of the Wheat Sheaf so that they may make their mark on the duty roster.


Signed,
Captain Rebus McIntyre,
agent and proxy for his Lordship.

The Wheat Sheaf, a modest inn that boasts a jaundiced thatch roof and a large covered porch area, stands at one of the corners of the crossroads not ten yards from where you stand.

Stepping through the swinging doors, you blink as your eyes adjust to the relative gloom. The tavern's common room is dominated by large trestle tables arranged parallel to the bar. Being barely noon in the middle of the week, there's mostly just some old men playing dominoes, sipping at their first pint to make it last. However, there's also a few tables scattered along the edge of the common room, and at one of the tables you find a rumpled, unshaven man wearing a somewhat faded blue and black surcoat over a chainmail shirt, perusing a set of well-worn papers, puffing idly on a cigar end, which he occasionally taps out into his upturned helmet on the desk.

As you approach him, the man looks up at you somewhat askance and says, "can I help you?"

[SNIPER4HIRE7]

Solaire casts his eyes about the inn taking in the decor, his eyes turn to the strangers who have been his companions on his journey so far a motley crew in his opinion, but he wasn't one to judge others too harshly. He steels himself with a deep breath and nervously steps up to the counter is this the Wheat Sheaf? i..i heard that Lordship Lucan MacBethan is hiring adventurers he meekly asks his voice barely above a whisper as he fiddle's with the holy symbol around his neck in a manner that seems to calm him. After he finishes speaking he takes a step back his eyes gazing at the floor

[Harthar]

The journey had been a long one for the group but they had finally arrived at their destination, Yellowgrass; they had met roughly a month ago and since then tentative bonds of companionship had been forged, though the bowman still did not trust any of them enough for them to be called friends. That would come with more time and experience; building those bonds through their deeds and actions, most likely through instances of great peril.

Harthar and the group had come to Yellowgrass merely hours before, timing their arrival with what seemed like the hottest part of the day. Having stayed off the roads to avoid any unwanted attention and banditry that was no prevalent in these regions, they had emerged from the treeline and cut across a field of corn that was almost ready for harvest. The cover was sufficient to avoid any stairs or raised eyebrows as they managed to meet up with the road and assume the guise of simple travelers for the last stretch into the town. Shortly after entering the town and following the Great Northern Road they hit a small stone wall. There they paused briefly to drink from the cool waters, refill their no doubt empty water skins, and wash some of the dirt from their faces that they had accumulated from their travels.

The bowman glanced at a peasant who was filling a small bucket with water, the fellow had been staring at him for sometime now and he was beginning to get nervous. Harthar when standing erect was just over six feet tall, his long dirty blonde hair loosely falling about well built, tanned shoulders was indeed a specimen of human form to be stared at. His hair's length, although curly, cascaded downward to end just below his shoulder blades, though it did nothing to obscure the icy blue-grey orbs that met the stare of the stranger from within sockets of golden brown skin; they were almost caverns of ice, such was their depth. His hard, rough, and angular jaw was set in a semi-permanent expression of emotionless, which was both pleasant to look at but also complimented his already frighteningly powerful visage. An aura of confidence and power surrounds this warrior of the bow. "Best move along..." he said quietly, his tone holding the same confidence and power that his visage inspired.

Turning from the man he noticed the rest of his party had moved on and so he followed, finding the urban setting not to his liking but containing his discomfort easily, for now. As he moved away from the well in pursuit of his fellows he noticed the same announcement that they no doubt would have. Pausing for a moment to read it in its entirety before continuing onward, jogging for a few moments to catch up; he know knew to where they were headed and it was not very far at all.

He was the last to pass through the swinging doors of the Wheat Sheaf Inn, entering its common room. Moving to the side after entering he took a moment to scan the room of its occupants and was not surprised when his eyes rested upon a gruff looking man who may at one point in time have been a reasonably good looking man at arms. Following the rest of his companions, though not rushing by any means, he arrived at the table with the rest just in time to hear the priest amongst them speak his first words. Not wishing to interrupt or take any of the attention away from the priest, Harthar moved casually to one side, setting his backpack against the same wall he ended up leaning against. He was, he believed, to be one of the more charismatic members of their group, though he made no effort to announce it; for now he was content to be viewed as a simple minion until such time as the need arose to present a different front. Whilst he was silent and immobile, his eyes were far from it; they continued to scan the room and its occupants, though he paid most of his attention to the seated man-at-arms.

[Exsens]

"Gruff," grunted the wood elf. The distinct sound of ivory on ivory would on any given interval float in the air, and his ear will twitch, and eyes will blink in that order. "Not annoying...imposing," mumbling to himself, "very distinct, doesn't blend well," stated he with moist lips. The refreshing taste of water was still fresh on his lips, and he sucked on them oh so playfully.

The strange elf that accompanied this group of adventures has been a bag of trouble and discomfort in the last month. Committing thievery at every turn and agitating those in his company. He on many occasions has stowed away items from strangers, foes and even allies. Leaving many shops and inns with miscellaneous things to valuable items, and swiping them before leaving and rarely ever getting caught. Many mornings he has been seen with others belongings, such as trinkets, papers, and products of hygiene. Using and storing it as if it was his own; kindly returning it when caught, but only to take it again the next morning.

Robin stops relatively close to the edge of the table. He stands on the side of the upturned helmet only for a few moments, slouching more so then normal. As he peers down inside the helm; examining it's inner linings, as he takes a deep wiff of the tobacco and ash. Lifting it off the table.

"not very imposing..." commented Robin noila.

[Dragonal01]

Coleson was never just a traditional theif, He was always the face, the distraction, the one who covered up for his fellow pilferer's, He was an orphan and always bigger, stronger and usually more charming than his fellows, from a young age he learned to lie, to distract, he used to keep the matron at the orphange occupied so his friends could steal cookies, and this eventually became his line of work, however he learnt how to handle a blade, as insurance for when the plans don't go as intended.

This past month of travelling Coleson had been busy working with Robin to procure several items. and as he follows his companions into the bar he looks around to see any people of interest (people with something worth stealing), whilst he's doing this Solaire speaks to the barman sheepishly. Hearing his companion he steps towards the bar, patting the Cleric on the shoulder and says. "I believe what my compaion here is trying to say, is that my friends and I are a consortium of freelancers, we have heard that the good Lord Lucan MacBethan is seeking our brand of assistance, and that if we wished to show interest in his offer, we should seek out one Captain Rebus McIntyre, in this fine establishment, so would you be so kind as to direct us to him?" Colesan says, ending with a winning smile. "Also a pint of Mead if you please." flicking over a silver piece.

[SNIPER4HIRE7]

Solaire nods his head a little in thanks for coleson's intervention as he continues to fiddle with the symbol around his neck he coughs to clear his throat one ale for me as well please he says as he reaches into his pockets and extracts a silver coin. don't panic keep calm remember what father Geoffrey said, Pelor watches over us

[gallagher]

As Farkle steps in, he almost gets stepped on.

Hey, I'm walking here! he shouts. When nobody seems to notice him even after yelling, he says even louder I'M HERE TO TRY AND HELP HIS LORDSHIP, CAN ANYBODY HELP ME?

Farkle continues to get looked over

[Vikingkingq]

(At the Bar, A Minute Prior)

The bartender, a balding gentlemen in his mid-40s with a barrel chest and the beginnings of a beer belly to match, walks down the bar when Brother Solaire steps up to ask his question. "Aye, this is the Wheat Sheaf, best tavern for twenty miles if I do say so meself. Then again, it is the only tavern for twenty miles!" He cracks up a bit at what is clearly his one and only joke. "Sorry, Brother, where was I? Lord Lucan...oh yes, that's the fellow the good Captain over there said he was working for. Over in the corner table there."


"I believe what my compaion here is trying to say, is that my friends and I are a consortium of freelancers, we have heard that the good Lord Lucan MacBethan is seeking our brand of assistance, and that if we wished to show interest in his offer, we should seek out one Captain Rebus McIntyre, in this fine establishment, so would you be so kind as to direct us to him?" Colesan says, ending with a winning smile. "Also a pint of Mead if you please." flicking over a silver piece.


When Coleson mentions Rebus, he says "Are ye, now? Well then, ye'll want to see the good Captain over there, like I was telling the priest here. Always good to see a man of the cloth who doesn't turn his nose up at good, sun-kissed wheat beer, best in twenty miles." He catches the coin deftly, and continues on with his patter, smiling in return. "'Fraid we don't sell mead, sir, not much bee-keeping 'round these parts. How 'bout a lovely pint of wheat beer, though? We also have a good stout."

He pours two pints and slides the golden brew over the counter with an encouraging nod, scooping up Solaire's coins as he does so.


At Captain Rebus' Table, A Minute Later

"Oi, give that back," the captain snaps, and reaches out to grab his helmet back, distracted by Farkle's shouting. He gives the group a slightly puzzled look, and asks. "Well, who's in charge here? And for gods' sake, someone control that child," he adds, nodding at Farkle.

Excens:
Opposed Dex check.

Rebus rolls [roll0]

[Harthar]

Icy grey-blue orbs watched the encounter as the helmet was snatched back. Not a good start by any means, especially when this fellow would be bestowing upon the group a small amount of trust in allowing them into his Lord's property. Not to mention Farkle's boisterous activity. "Farkle, sit and have a drink, its been a long journey and its obviously made you irritable." growled the human, his eyes gracing the halfling, conveying in both tone and emotion that the sorcerer should do as he was told.

With an audible grunt the bowman pushed off from the wall, lent down and shifted his backpack next to a seat at the table which he pulled out with his free hand. "Is this seat taken, Captain?" He spoke respectfully, his tone still quiet, though it carried quiet easily. "I guess you could say that we haven't got a leader of sorts just yet, haven't really had a need for one on the road." If allowed he would take the seat which was across from the man. "I do for now though, or until the rest say otherwise... or our employer confirms the appointment." He smiled slightly, his rough unshaven jaw spoiling the effect his smile usually had, though that was obviously responded to more by the opposite sex.

"The name is Harthar. The rest can introduce themselves once our business is concluded here, whichever way it might go. You are hiring, and we are seeking gainful employment; tell us more about what you need, our skill set is diverse." He sat back, catching the attention of a waitress and signalling for her to come over. He glanced back at the other man, "A drink perhaps?" He did not wait for the mans answer before turning back to the newly arrived woman, "Hello ma'am, if you would be so kind as to bring us a jug of that good stout I overheard the barkeep speaking of, we'd be most appreciated." He gave her his winning smile, only slightly sullied by the roughness of his appearance, though it might have given him a roguish quality that was not unseen in such places. With the smile a coin was fished from his trouser pocket and placed in her hand. He watched her for a moment as she moved away and then turned his gaze back to the man across from him.

[SNIPER4HIRE7]

Solaire looks around for the seat furthest from the captain seeing it empty he takes his seat silently. he raises his glass and takes a small mouthful as the bitter taste hits fills tongue he suppresses the urge to grimace, looking at the captain he speaks in a voice that can barely be heard above the uproar of the inn Um captain s..sir Farkle isn't a..a child upon finishing the sentence Solaire casts his eyes about the room desperatly about the trying to avoid eye contact with the captain, Maybe i should have kept quiet what if i angered him or insulted his intelligence

[Exsens]

Opposed Dex: +3
Exsens roll [roll0]
Sleight of hand: +6
[roll1]
Bluff: +2
[roll2]

Stealth
[roll3]

Dex Contest: Fail
It seem the captain had grasp his fingers on the helmet almost instantly as Robin had attempted to whisk away with it. Preventing him from proceeding any further with the smell. The white of the elves eyes were full bloom as the elf darted them towards Rebus claiming possession of the said item and it's immediate retrieval. Carefully and gently the elf lifted one hand off the side of the helm, readjusting the other hand below. He placed the tip of his middle finger on the captain's knuckles before sliding down them, onto the helm and into the ash before grabbing less then a teaspoon with his point, middle and thumb. Lifting it before the captain's eyes as delude this was the subject of his interest.

Bluff:13
"Do you need this?" Stated he.
"I understand if you do, it's very valuable..." a sentence filled with irony and sarcasm, yet at surface value from the elf's tone of voice it yield pure interest.

Sleight of hand:23
With the captain's attention wavering between the temperamental halfling, Solaire's corrections and the Harthar's confidence, he wiggle the helm from the captain's fingers and placed it on the table slowly and carefully. Readjusting, only to mimic it's previous position before his fingering had removed it from it's place. Dirtying the tips of each finger with the ashes he had obtained before speaking.

Stealth:13
Sitting down beside Solaire, attempting to remove his presence for the moment. As the air of tension was rising between the strangers. "Gruff..." the sounds of dominioes in the air was still in the air and still imposing.

[gallagher]

Sitting down, Farkle does his best to look more cheery, despite the fact he was just called a child.

I was once a child, but that was long ago. Name's Farkle, or The Remarkable Farkle McBride. But if I am going to be thought of as a child here maybe someone else should order my drink for me... Farkle ends that last statement with a big grin

[Vikingkingq]

Captain Rebus allows the elf to take as much tobacco ash as he likes, tapping the helmet empty on the side of the table before jamming it back over his head and pointedly ignoring Robin in favor of Harthar.

"Right, Mr. Harthar. As the sign says, His Lordship is looking for soldiers to bolster his current forces. There's been some...disorder in the valley over the last couple of months, bad business with some hotheaded peasants." He accepts the beer and takes a slow pull, gathering his words. "Some of the lord's bailiffs were brutally assaulted when making their rounds, alone you understand, so we need them guarded. Law and order needs to be maintained, and I don't have enough hands to cover the whole of the valley. We've been up and down three counties hiring men, and I was just about to head back home, but I've room for men with...unique skill sets," Rebus says, his eyes going from the obviously martially-trained Harthar and Coleson to encompass the cleric, then the elf and halfling.


Wisdom/Insight checks, in OOC thread please.


"You would be working under me as guardsmen and deputized Under-sheriffs, as I'm Sheriff as well as Guard Captain for my sins," he says, indicating a badge on his sleeve. "Your duties would be to accompany the bailiffs once per week as they go village by village enforcing the law, and to make a daily patrol of the lands around the castle. Pay is ten gold per week, and there's room and board available up t'castle."

If anyone accepts or the group accepts, he'll shake each by the hand and asks them to either sign or make their mark in a log book he pulls out from the mess of papers.


Int/Local or Societal Lore check, in OOC.


Farkle:

"Sorry," Rebus says with a start after hearing Farkle's decidedly un-childlike tenor. "Didn't see you were an halfling there, lad. Don't meet many of your kind in the valley, as a rule. You do know how to use that sword on your back, yes?"

[gallagher]

O' course I know how to use it. You swing it at the guy you want to hit, and he drops dead.

[Vikingkingq]

O' course I know how to use it. You swing it at the guy you want to hit, and he drops dead.

Rebus nods. "Right then, sign here."

[gallagher]

O' course I'll sign. I could use the gold and a daily meal!

[Harthar]

"Just Harthar will do, sir." He spoke matter-of-factly, before remaining silent for the rest of the sheriff's words. Once the older man was finished speaking, the offer now given to the group, Harthar sat back again in the chair, and brought the mug of stout to his lips, taking his first sip and savoring the taste for a few moments before swallowing. He was not the most intelligent man, he knew that and had come to terms with it over the course of his life. However he believed that when he took the time to contemplate the words of others, to really think them over, he would come up with the best solution. Thus, he allowed some of the others to speak up and either accept or decline the offer of work before making his own pledge. Oh, he was going to accept, that was not in question; he needed to gold and he wanted to help these people. He also wanted to forward his own skills and the perfect way to do that was doing exactly what the sheriff had explained was what they were being hired for.

What Harthar was contemplated was questions and concerns; ways that would forward his own agenda as well as that of the groups. At the end of the day he was looking out for himself most of all, he owed these people nothing, just as they owed him nothing and would be looking out for themselves also. He took all the time he needed to drink almost half of the mug before he spoke up.

"Pay of ten gold per week, room and board included? How about some proper equipment? Or perhaps the time and materials of your Lord's smiths, fletcher and tailor?" a questioning brow was raised to accompany that charismatic smile. "I for one could use some more arrows and a piece of armour or two..."

OOC: Sorry, was going to roll for a charisma check, but didn't know if I actually needed to so I deleted it. >_<

Oh, found a way to get it back. Yay!
[roll0]

[Exsens]

"Not very attractive," proclaimed Robin while carefully swiping the spoils of his last interaction into a white handkerchief from the table. He then put the ashes away in his bag before continuing to speak.

"Equipment and services would be good," agreed Noila. "But 5 pieces of gold for every peasant suppressed, would be good too." Boldly stated he as he scratched away at the back of his head while pondering about several thoughts of the venture ahead, upholding law and acquiring funds for the Lord. 'Seemed like trouble, felt like trouble' thought he in repetition and as he continued to dig his nails into the base of his hair.

"You agree?" stated the elf.

Charisma Check
[roll0]

[SNIPER4HIRE7]

Solaire looks to see what his companions are doing, the captains words ring alarm bells in his mind um...guys could we talk before we ar sign anything p..please after this Solaire gets up and walks to a quiet corner of the bar

[Vikingkingq]

As the halfling and the priest scribble their names down in his ledger, the Captain continues his conversation with the others.



"Pay of ten gold per week, room and board included? How about some proper equipment? Or perhaps the time and materials of your Lord's smiths, fletcher and tailor?" a questioning brow was raised to accompany that charismatic smile. "I for one could use some more arrows and a piece of armour or two..."

"Equipment and services would be good," agreed Noila. "But 5 pieces of gold for every peasant suppressed, would be good too."

"We have an armory you can draw from as needed - nothing fancy, but we do have armor and we can certainly run to ammunition, although I don't expect much in the way of shooting to be taking place," Rebus says, taking another swallow of the wheat beer.

When Robin mentions suppressing the peasants, the captains eyes narrow dangerously. "You're not meant to be suppressing anyone, elf. You're meant to be upholding the law and keeping the peace; if someone raises a hand against the peace, you're do stop them as peacefully as you can. And if you work for me, you work by my rules, do we understand each other?"

[Harthar]

Harthar lent forward and nodded, taking the quill from the last one to have used it and then signing his name. "We have an agreement, Sir." He pushed the jug of stout closer to the Captain and then finished his own mug, grunted at the taste that he hated so much. He never usually drank, tried to stay away from the stuff, considering its effects and how they hindered him using his bow. "The rest is yours, I hate the stuff." A grin and he picked his backpack up and returned to leaning against the wall. That was where he waited until everyone else had signed or declined and they were ready to move on.

[Vikingkingq]

(After the party has asked any questions and signed up)

Standing up from the table, Captain Rebus buckles on a scarred breastplate that's been lying on a bench. "Right then, we'll be off in an hour, so get yourselves ready and meet me by the well outside."

He gathers up the papers and the ledgers and strides out the door.


You have enough time to buy traveling supplies in addition to your starting equipment if you want them.
Also, if you want to talk to the old men playing dominoes or the barman, a Charisma check may get you answers to any questions you might have about Passfurd. Ask and answer in OOC.


About an hour later, the party assembles back at the well, where a horse and wagon piled with supplies are waiting, attended by a teenager in the livery of Clan MacBethan. Captain McIntyre rides up on a grey draft horse and nods at his assembled men. "This is young Rory, from t'castle. You can walk or ride as you choose, but it's seven day's long march to Passfurd town. So let's be off."

[Harthar]

Harthar picked up his backpack and put it on, watching as the Captain exited the Inn. He glanced at his fellow companions, "I am going to ask a few questions around here and then proceed to the market, your free to join me if you'd like... if not I'll meet you at the well with the Captain." Having finished he moved first to the waitress as she happened to be close to the table they had been sitting at.

"Excuse me miss, do you mind if I ask you a few questions? I happen to be on my way to a place known as Passfurd; have you heard of it?" He waited for her yes or no before asking the real questions, "Can you tell me anything about it and the situation that has befallen it and those who rule it? He would proceed to question her if any interesting answers were available. When he was finished with her he would give her two silver coins for her time and then move onward to the bar.

Attracting the barman's attention he would ask the same questions; first about whether the man had heard of Passfurd and then what the situation was. Depending on how helpful the man was depended on whether he received the tip of 2 silver or not. Once the barman was questioned he would move on, out of the common room and toward the market, there to purchase some more items, and riding horse, and whilst he did that he would question the merchants and store owners, asking the same questions; though these fellows he would not tip nearly as much.

Another 4-5sp gone from tipping if he receives answers justifying it.

All of his questioning and shopping would take him forty-five minutes to an hour before he arrived back at the well and rejoined his companions and his new employer. He would not say a word as they were briefed about the long ride ahead. He simply waited for them to set off and began to follow.

[Dragonal01]

Coleson, after briefly introducing himself & signing the papers, follows after Harthar asking questions, but this time addressed at the inn's patrons.
"Ahh, excuse me my fine fellow, I wonder if I could trouble you for some information? Do you know of the town of Passfurd? If so could you please tell about the area, as I'll soon be travelling there, and it's always nice to know where to go & where to avoid etcetera."
If the patron offer good information Coleson shall by him a beer and have a drink with them, before he too goes to the market to buy a horse.
RollCHA check: [roll0]
or Diplomacy check if you find it applicable [roll1]

[SNIPER4HIRE7]

Solaire wandered the town purchasing ingredients for healing potions. Solaire as he wanders feels he has made a mistake in some way but its to late to refuse the contract now he feels, as he wanders the town he passes coleson, keep your guard up something feels off he warns before hastily walking off stuffing sweet smelling herbs into a pouch at his belt

[Exsens]

The elf felt a an odd sensation as rebus finished his statement. He felt the fancy taste of contradictions and pride gleam all over the captain's face. 'What caused this' he thought to himself as he replied, "Imposing peace...." He paused while making his mark on the parchment handed to him, agreeing to his terms. "right?"

Later on,

After finishing sending a letter to his contact informing him about Lord's Lucan's current actions, the attacks on bailiffs, and how he was relocating to Passfurd town, the elf was cruising around town with Coleson. He was attempting to pass the time before they had to head out. Hearing the cleric's warning udder, the elf follows behind curiously he whispers, "You seem to have knowing......of the venture ahead." The elf remembered the cleric having a worried eyes at the inn and creating distant before finally deciding to sign with the others. Now this passive warning seemed to the elf that Solaire's lips had something more to say. "You may speak to me, I won't steal your trust." said the eleven thief.

[Vikingkingq]

"Ahh, excuse me my fine fellow, I wonder if I could trouble you for some information? Do you know of the town of Passfurd? If so could you please tell about the area, as I'll soon be travelling there, and it's always nice to know where to go & where to avoid etcetera."



The old men know generally of Passfurd - it's about seven days to the north, right up against the mountain (right by a mountain pass, hence the name) where the border with the neighboring kingdom is found. Passfurd town's the last stop on the Northern Road, right by the highest ford of the Tumblestones River.

Merchants quite often come through Yellowgrass heading to Passfurd - it's a quite fertile valley, with plenty of wheat, barley, and rye for sale, as well as some regionally well-known beers and distilled liquors that are produced in the town of Passfurd; there's also abundant timber and stone and an iron mine up in the mountains, so the towns of Passfurd is also known as a place to buy sawed timber, dressed stone, wood- and metalworks, although apparently there hasn't been much of the last recently.

In terms of places to stay, there aren't a lot of choices: the town has a coaching inn that caters to travelers, and a more expensive tavern that visiting merchants prefer.

[Vikingkingq]

Six Days Later:

Travel up the North Road is relatively uneventful as the party rolls by a handful of towns much like Yellowgrass. As you head north out of the fertile plains, the land becomes gradually more hilly with clumps of trees, and the false summer tips over into a bright, crisp, autumn.

You travel for forty miles or ten hours a day, breaking for a meal at mid-day and stopping when the sun goes down. The cart is easily pulled off the road, and a simple camp is made, with people fetching firewood and water by rota. The countryside isn't particularly dangerous, but Captain Rebus insists on having a watch at night. Thankfully, between seven people, that means only about an hour and a half, so you all get a decent night's sleep.

As you get closer to Passfurd, the hills become more pronounced, and the trees gradually shift from deciduous to more evergreen and become more numerous. A dark line against the horizon eventually grows into a far off line of mountains heading roughly northeast to southwest.

On the morning of the sixth day of travel, a smudge of smoke on the horizon signals the presence of Passfurd Town. The group packs up the camp and continues the trek, with Captain Rebus leading the way on his draft horse. The trees begin to thicken into forest as you press on, eager to finally get off the road.


Spot checks for everyone please.

[Exsens]

As the days seem to roll by like the trees in the horizon endlessly. Sun and moon tracked over them with ease and sway as they dragged along the the days and nights. Finding himself his thoughts lost in the sea of the sky as time went by while nibbling on the twine doll tied to his hair, day in and day out.

Like the many mornings before, robin had taken to foot beside the cart. He carried with him 5 daggers in sheaved in holsters through out the back of his belt, rapier to the left, bow and quiver with 20 arrows on his back, and a handkerchief filled with ashes in his breeches pocket. He left the rest of his stuff on the cart, as to not over exert himself.

"Very passive...." commented the wood elf.


Benfits:
- Spy: Training(+3)
- Wood Elf: Keen Senses(advantage, 1 extra roll)

Spot check:
[roll0]
[roll1]

[gallagher]

The days going by have made Farkle grow restless. It has been days since he has used his magic. People already look at him differently for being a halfling, best not to show them any more skill than with his sword.

The incoming village, deduced from the smoke in the distance, brings a little light to his eye, however. He could use a little break from the monotony.

sorry, i rolled in the OoC thread, and its too good that i am hesitant to roll again!

[Harthar]

Harthar, being unsuccessful in finding a horse to purchase and ride during the journey decided that it was probably for the best as it would allow him to keep his senses keen and his skills well used. When they set off he, at first, rode in the cart whilst he sorted out his belongings and how they might best fit upon his person so that he could do what he was good at. He attached the new belt pouch he had bought to his belt, now having two at the base of his spine, one to either side of his body. His shortsword was sheathed at his side, whilst the quiver holding a brace of arrows was attached to his back. A waterskin he tied to his belt, in front of one of the pouches and the signal whistle he tucked securely into one of the belt pouches. He also tucked a single meal's worth of rations into the other belt pouch just in case he would require it. The rest of his gear he put securely into his backpack and tucked up into one corner of the cart, hopefully to not be stolen or raided by anyone in their party.

Whilst this equipment shuffling was going on he decided that it would be a good time to get to know those he was traveling with, or at least the good Captain and his young assistant. He chose Rory first and foremost as the boy was young and might be more liberal with information than the Captain. Hoping down off the cart, he made his way over to the young man, his bow hung over one shoulder for the moment. "Hello, I did not get a chance to greet you back in Yellowgrass, I am Harthar. The Captain said your name was Rory, its good to meet you, lad. Are you from Passfurd itself or from a village close by?" He started off being as friendly as he could, asking simple questions that the boy had no reason to lie about or withhold the answers. Then he moved on to ones that were a bit more invasive, "How are your family faring during the hard times in Passfurd? Do they have professions? It is unfortunate that such troubles should befall such peaceful and prospering towns, especially under the rule of Lord MacBethan. What can you tell me of the Lord and his retainers? Does he have a wife and children? Is he a Just and Honourable Ruler?" He decided that these would be the only questions he would ask for the moment as they had seven days worth of traveling for more information to be gleaned from the young man.

Regardless of the answers he received he would give his thanks for the young man's time and answers and then part ways, jogging further up the train toward the Captain on his horse, "Greetings Captain, if it is alright with you I might range on ahead and make sure the road is clear of hindrances." He would wait for either the yay or nay as to whether he was allowed to do this. If it was the former than he would incline his head in thanks and respect before lopping off ahead into the distance to do exactly what he had said he would; ensure there was nothing untoward ahead of them.

This he would do for most of the journey, though not always ahead of the party; sometimes he would range out to either side, though keeping close enough to ensure he could react to anything that might befall the group. Other times he would hang back and make sure no one was following them. Each evening he would try and take the first or last watch and was ever vigilant.

On the morning of the sixth day Harthar had been the last on watch, though as soon as the first rays of light revealed the smoke on the horizon he noticed many of their party were already awake. He already had all of his belongings packed up and, instead of putting his backpack into the cart as he had every day before, he decided he would wear it for today as they were approaching their final destination. He did however, choose to range on ahead of the party, though well within sight. He was aware that the area was unstable and anything could be waiting for them up ahead and so he was extra vigilant, his bow in hand and an arrow in the other, though not as yet in a threatening way.

Also Rolled in OOC

[Vikingkingq]

Whilst this equipment shuffling was going on he decided that it would be a good time to get to know those he was traveling with, or at least the good Captain and his young assistant. He chose Rory first and foremost as the boy was young and might be more liberal with information than the Captain. Hoping down off the cart, he made his way over to the young man, his bow hung over one shoulder for the moment. "Hello, I did not get a chance to greet you back in Yellowgrass, I am Harthar. The Captain said your name was Rory, its good to meet you, lad. Are you from Passfurd itself or from a village close by?" He started off being as friendly as he could, asking simple questions that the boy had no reason to lie about or withhold the answers. Then he moved on to ones that were a bit more invasive, "How are your family faring during the hard times in Passfurd? Do they have professions? It is unfortunate that such troubles should befall such peaceful and prospering towns, especially under the rule of Lord MacBethan. What can you tell me of the Lord and his retainers? Does he have a wife and children? Is he a Just and Honourable Ruler?" He decided that these would be the only questions he would ask for the moment as they had seven days worth of traveling for more information to be gleaned from the young man.

Rory, who actually drives the cart, responds a bit shyly to the interrogation. "Me family lives up at the Tower, sir, serving his lordship. I'm usually in the stables, since I've a good hand with animals, and I take the cart out for deliveries. This is the farthest I've ever gone for one though. I shouldn't gossip about his Lordship, but he's always done well by us."


Regardless of the answers he received he would give his thanks for the young man's time and answers and then part ways, jogging further up the train toward the Captain on his horse, "Greetings Captain, if it is alright with you I might range on ahead and make sure the road is clear of hindrances."

"Well, unless you're planning to run, you're probably going to get outpaced by the horses," Rebus points out, "besides, the North Road is too well traveled to get bandits or the like. But I like to see industriousness."

[SNIPER4HIRE7]

seven days travel has been a new experience for Solaire, unused to long treks he kept to the wagon when possible, a watchful eye ever mindful of the captain's odd behavior at the inn, as he brewed a potion he found the courage to approach robin. The captain felt off something isn't right, it s..seems too good to be true 10gp is a lot of money for such simple tasks, right? Solaire says his voice filled with concern, don't do anything rash okay? i can only heal so much and with that Solaire turns back to the slowly burning herbs the sweet scent wafting into the night sky.

spot check http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3708790/

[gallagher]

seven days travel has been a new experience for Solaire, unused to long treks he kept to the wagon when possible, a watchful eye ever mindful of the captain's odd behavior at the inn, as he brewed a potion he found the courage to approach robin. The captain felt off something isn't right, it s..seems too good to be true 10gp is a lot of money for such simple tasks, right? Solaire says his voice filled with concern, don't do anything rash okay? i can only heal so much and with that Solaire turns back to the slowly burning herbs the sweet scent wafting into the night sky.

spot check http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3708790/

Don't question it, or he might take it away! 10 gp on its own might be more than many see in a lifetime

[Vikingkingq]

The party sees something silvery lying on the path, just as a tripwire is suddenly snapped taught across the path. Captain Rebus reacts not quite quickly enough to avoid it, and is knocked backwards off his horse. The guardsman hits the ground rolling and is on his knees drawing his sword almost an instant later.

Rory wrenches back on the reins and halts the cart short of the tripwire; the Captain barks at him, "don't stop, ye daft bugger! It's an ambush!" As he says this, a volley of arrows flies out from the undergrowth at either side of the road and rakes the horsecart.

Rory's head snaps up and back as he falls backward into the cart, clutching his neck where a tuft of feathers is sprouting. A flood of red trickles out from behind his fingers.


Roll a Dex Check v. DC 16 with a +2 bonus from the cover of the wagon to avoid [roll0] damage.


Hot on the heels of the arrows, a horde of small, skittering green-skinned humanoids in dark hooded robes burst out of the robes, all teeth and mad glowing red eyes, clutching wicked-looking cleavers and hooked knives. A babble of cackling laughter, guttural chattering, and shrieking follows them as the flood toward the party from both sides of the road.

Roll Initiative!

MAP:

http://imageshack.us/a/img442/8711/ambushb.jpg

[Harthar]

Harthar was enjoying the scenery from the back of the cart when hell broke loose. He even witnessed the silvery line being pulled taught just before the Captain ran into it, sending the man reeling from his horse to the ground. He could not help but think that had the small convoy been moving slower and scouts been sent out ahead none of this would have occurred. They might even have staged their own ambush against those that were now ambushing them. It was all in the past though and the time now was for acting not dwelling. Just then the hail of arrows sped toward the cart, skewering Rory and peppering the rest of them. Harthar attempted to find cover but failed as he felt firstly the cold steel and then fiery pain as the arrow penetrated his flesh.

Acting swiftly he drew an arrow from his quiver and brought the longbow to bare. He had been sitting on the left side of the cart when facing in the direction of travel and as such was looking straight at the side of the road where most of the ambushers had emerged. Finding a target would be easy but hitting one might be more difficult. Using the sides of the cart as cover he attempted to shoot from a crouched position, the bow held horizontally. Arrow notched and drawn he aimed at one of the enemy bowmen, drawing back and then releasing the bowstring.

Longbow:
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Status:
AC: 15
HP: 7 (12-5 from arrows)

[SNIPER4HIRE7]

Solaire had enjoyed the day the warm sun casting a pleasant heat upon the wagon, as the captain fell solaire was in shock, as he turned a arrow struck him in the arm, ignoring the pain the world seems to slow for solaire as he reaches for his holy symbol, poking his head out the wagon he sees many attackers blasting the closest one on the south side a lance of white light forms in his hand he hurls it the spear zooms off blasting the assailant in his arm.





lance of faith: http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3710514/ (21 to hit)
damage: http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3710515/ (5)


initiative http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3710503/ (10)


dex check: http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3710504/ (15 failed)

hp: 10 (5)
ac: 14

[Exsens]

Arrows pierced the cart's frame and one fell into elf's side. He felt pain surge through him, gritting his teeth and gnawing the twine doll in his mouth into a ruined state before finally spitting onto the ground. It bounced once before rolling into the pool of blood roaring from Rory's neck. The doll in it's ruined state splash about as the cart rocked back and forth in the hustle and shuffle of the adventurers. Robin tried his best keep his anguish to a visual display of pain as he got ready to counterattack.

'His presence must not be known, he must stay hidden.' Thought he as he took cover while wrapping his fingers around his bow and an arrow from his quiver. Letting it fly in the opposite direction of Hartar's attack. Hoping to down a few foes and diminish any chance of a successful flank.

[gallagher]

ACH! says Farkle, as he gets hit in the arm, and goes to 4 hp (9-5)

We are sitting ducks in this cart!

Putting his back to something that will provide him some comfort, Farkle decides it is time to show a little bit of his power, and uses Ray of Frost: [roll0] for [roll1] cold damage. I aim at the nearest one wielding a knife/cleaver/melee weapon, and his speed slows by 10 feet if I hit.

[Dragonal01]

Coleson dodges an arrow shot his way, leaps off the cart drawing his longsword as he does so, and runs towards the nearest enemy to deliver a slash
Rolls Longsword vs. closest goblin: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[Vikingkingq]

Round 1:

His eyes suddenly flaring with a cold blue light, Farkle reaches out his hand and a bolt of ice flies from his index finger to spit a goblin racing towards the right side of the wagon - the goblin is halted in mid-run, grabbing at the bolt of ice which suddenly flares, freezing the tiny humanoid into a grotesque ice "sculpture."

With a cry of "For the Last Tower!" Rebus charges the pack of goblins nearest to him, battering aside their clumsy blades and spitting one on the point of his sword. With a practiced shove, he throws the goblin's corpse off the point of his blade and flings it into the one behind it, causing the screeching thing to fall over under the weight. Snatching a buckler from his hip, he cooly retreats towards the wagon, yelling "get the cart moving, Rory!"

Already in full run, the first group of goblins has little time to react to the sudden turn in events. A couple in front of the wagon head after Rebus, with one charging towards his unguarded back with a meat cleaver, and the other stopping to reload and fire his shortbow. Luckily, the shot flies horribly wide and is lost somewhere in the bushes. Two others, expecting the cart to be easy pickings, run forward and begin to climb up the cart's left side, clutching their weapons in their teeth.

They are very much surprised when Harthar pokes his head up above the skirting boards just long enough to loose a lethally accurate shot - spearing the goblin that had just fired at the good captain in the head, causing the humanoid to stagger and spin 90 degrees before collapsing to the ground dead. The Priest of Pelor reaches his hand over the top and blasts one of the raiders climbing the wagon off the wagon and landing smoking on the ground. The other one squeals in pain at the sudden radiance and falls off the wagon, landing on top of the crispy corpse of his comrade.

MAP:
http://imageshack.us/a/img407/3725/ambushround2.jpg

EDIT:

Coleson brashly leaps off the wagon's right side and charges the onrushing goblinoids, slicing one goblin's throat open with his sword. The small creature clutches at its throat, trying to stop the bleeding, but falls to its knees and then slumps over.

A second later, the goblin charging at the captain's back is hit in the side by Robin's arrow and falls to the ground, cleaver falling from its suddenly slack hands. The tide is clearly turning against the goblinfolk.

Hissing with anger, one of the goblins, slightly taller than his peers and clutching a nasty-looking barbed scimitar in both hands, charges straight into the oncoming Coleson, slashing through the studded leather on the young man's side. "U die now, humie!" it shrieks, laughing at the sight of the blood coating its blade.

The three rather shaken-looking goblins standing with bows loose a hasty volley over the cart, the arrows thudding uselessly into the wood, although one scrapes Harthar's shoulder.

Map of End of Round 1:
http://imageshack.us/a/img543/2676/ambushendofround1.jpg

[Harthar]

Harthar heard the words of Rebus over the din of the engagement, he had long since become in tune with the ebbs and flow of battlefields having been a soldier only a few short years previously but finding the life undesirable toward its climax. The words of a commander had always taken precedence over all other sound and thus if he was within earshot then he would be aware of it. After loosing his first arrow into the face of the goblin who had just been firing at the Captain, the lithe human began to move toward the front of the cart. He growled a reply to Rebus in case the man was not aware of Rory's condition. "Rory is dead! I'll see what I can do." He pulled himself over the wooden rail that separated the front of the cart from the back, as he moved another, albeit smaller, volley of arrows descended upon the cart. Though because of Harthar's movement one of the arrows narrowly missed wounding him, slicing the flesh at his shoulder for a superficial wound.

He was careful not to stumble on Rory as he crouched on the driver's seat, drawing a new arrow from the quiver on his back, he notched it and took aim at another of the green skinned miscreants that had ambushed them, one of the very same that had loosed the latest volley, a bow wielding goblin. His aim was to get rid of as many of the bowman as he could lest another of his companions get an arrow stuck in them. He fired once the shot had been lined up.

As soon as the arrow was released he sat down completely on the bench and grasped at the reigns, whipping them down hard against the beast's back in an attempt to get the cart moving.


Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1] (stupid roll did something wrong, grr)

Cart Check: [roll1]

Expertise For Next Round: Parry [roll2]


Status:
AC: 15
HP: 7

[Dragonal01]

Coleson catches the edge of the scimitar with his longsword so the wound is not as deep Rolls
[roll0] or [roll1] if I had to spend an expertise die for something

[gallagher]

Just make sure you keep us moving to make us difficult to hit, but dont get too far from our comrades! I'll keep shooting

Too injured to jump out and help his comrades with a sword, Farkle keeps shooting from the cart, aiming for the archers

[roll0] for [roll1] cold damage, and my target is slowed 10 feet

[Vikingkingq]

Cursing in pain, Farkle reaches out with his powers and another azure bolt flies through the afternoon sky to pierce a goblin archer, leaving the monster frozen in an agonized position and causing the other two archers to squeak in fear.

Rebus continues his movement towards the cart when he hears Harthar's shout. "Damn it all, I promised the boy's mother I'd see him home safe!" Growling, he picks up speed and charges into the flank of the goblin leader. "You're only getting the one, greenskin," he snarls, slashing across the goblin leader's face, sending him stumbling backwards blindly, blood pouring into his eyes.

Over by the tripwire, the goblin that had been hiding under his comrade's body takes a dim view of the tactical situation and legs it for Rebus' panicked horse. He scrabbles for the bridle, but the horse rears and lashes out with a hoof, catching the greenskin full on the head. Almost unnoticed by the combatants, the goblin falls to the ground, his head tilted at an unnatural angle.

Harthar's shot just barely arcs over the melee in front of him and catches one of the two remaining goblin archers in the groin. The beast shrieks in falsetto and falls to the ground, and the last goblin archer is clearly panicking, throwing down its bow and preparing to run. Unfortunately, his skill with the bow far outpaces his skill with the reins, and the horse balks, visibly terrified.

[Solaire now has an opportunity to either attack the blinded goblin with Advantage or shoot at the remaining archer, or do something other than attack.]

Coulson, reeling from the injury inflicted by the goblin leader, sidesteps to his right and lets off a savage backhanded blow that completely severs the leader's left arm which goes pinwheeling over the human fighter's head to land somewhere on the ground behind. The goblin looks dumbly at the stump and attacks with its very last breath, swinging wildly at the young man.


[roll0]
If hits, deals [roll1]


Finally, Robin fires a lethally accurate shot, dropping the remaining goblin as it scampers into the underbrush. The goblins dead, dying or blinded, the party makes short work of the remainder and silence falls once more over the road. There are a tense few moments where it seems like more will be coming, but nothing. The fight is over.

[Exsens]

"Not dead yet," proclaimed Robin. He motioned the Cleric to stabilized the young boy. Hopefully before his last statement became false. Solaire could use his healing kit instead of his spells, saving them for another opportunity.

"Make them fall, then we move." Stated the wood elf as he slid another arrow unto his bow. He rose his weapon into the air took aim at the archers in the distant. Once he aligned his shot with the enemy, he let it loose on his prey and hope for a quick demise. Then as quickly as one had left his hand he unleashed another arrow with the same dreadful malevolence as the last. Malevolence base on survival and self-preservation but nevertheless still reared by hatred's ugly disposition.

"Forget moving, let Rebus handle it." It seem the strange elf was yelling sensible tactics with repetition. "Drop them," Exclaimed the elf. "All of them!" He stated louder then before.


[standard action] Attack
Shortbow: (1d8)(racial) (80/320ft) 5(2+dex)
Target: Archer
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[standard action 2(instead of movement)] Attack
Shortbow: (1d8)(racial) (80/320ft) 5(2+dex)
Target: leader
Attack: [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]



After battle....

"Bloody mess...." spoke the elven rogue as he reached for his ruined twine doll on the floor, now soaked in the young one's blood. He was in no rush to put this one in his mouth anytime soon and place it in his backpack.

[Harthar]

Having failed to coax the mule into going forward and pulling the cart out of danger, the archer once more drew an arrow, though as soon as it was notched he was hard pressed to find a target. Removing the arrow from the bowstring he slid it back into the quiver and then put his bow down as he turned and knelt next to the dying young boy, his throat awash in blood, some of it frothing with his labored breath. It was a wonder in itself that the boy had not given up and died on them yet. He had no training in treating a wound such as this but he did have some experience in battlefield wounds from his days as a soldier.


Figured a survival check could work here with regards to thinking up how to save the boy?
[roll0]

Letting the boy grasp at the hole in his neck to try and stifle the bleeding, Harthar grasped the feathered end of the arrow in both hands attempting to snap the thin piece of wood just below the feathers. If someone else happened to come along with more training in seeing to the boy's wounds, Harthar would gladly allow them to take control, but until then he was the closest person who could even try to help the boy. He reached over the back of the seat and opened his backpack, drawing out the healer's kit and opening it so that he could examine the contents. He needed to think, how was he going to save this poor soul. The boy seemed only to be struggling to breath, other than the blood that was obviously ensuing from the wound, though even that was slowing with time and without the arrow actually being removed.

From within he took a bandage and some twine. He glanced around at those outside of the cart, "Hurry, if we can get the lad to town there might be someone who can help him better than we can." He turned back to the boy.

"I'm sorry lad, but this is gonna hurt a lot more. Move your hands away." Without waiting for the boy to do as he asked, or even looking to see if he was even still conscious, Harthar began wrapping the cloth around the wound and arrow, using it to keep a small amount of pressure over the wound but obviously not enough to choke the boy. Once it was bandaged he slid a small amount of twine over around it to keep it secure. Standing, wincing with the pain of the arrow still jutting out of his own leg, he attempted to lift the boy as carefully as possible into the back of the cart and lay him down.


So, maybe we can stabilize him and then get him to town? Using the 19 I rolled in the OOC to stabilize.

[SNIPER4HIRE7]

Solaire hears over the din of battle harthar order's he rushes to Rory's side presses the warm metal of his holy symbol against Rory's flesh and casts death's door a light envelopes Rory,and his bleeding ceases, solaire lets out a sigh of relieve looks to harthar don't worry I'll keep him alive go help coleson, i need room to work he says all hints of nervousness or shyness gone from his voice, reaching into his pouch he pulls out a vial filled with a red liquid holding it out for Rory to see.freshly made this will patch you up lad, now listen to me keep your eyes open and stay awake Solaire instructs his voice calm and soothing in the manner his former patients found calming

[Vikingkingq]

Solaire hears over the din of battle harthar order's he rushes to Rory's side presses the warm metal of his holy symbol against Rory's flesh and casts death's door a light envelopes Rory,and his bleeding ceases, solaire lets out a sigh of relieve looks to harthar don't worry I'll keep him alive go help coleson, i need room to work he says all hints of nervousness or shyness gone from his voice, reaching into his pouch he pulls out a vial filled with a red liquid holding it out for Rory to see.freshly made this will patch you up lad, now listen to me keep your eyes open and stay awake Solaire instructs his voice calm and soothing in the manner his former patients found calming

The group takes an awed breath when the light of Pelor combined with the priest's mystical elixir begins to take effect. As the red philtre pours into the lads's mouth, Harthar can feel the arrow's shaft pull more easily out of the wound, and the hole in his neck visibly closes.

It takes a few hours to patch up everyone in the group, drag the goblin corpses off the road, and calm the two horses sufficiently, but after that the group is finally able to move on, a bit more scarred and wary than before, but more seasoned as a unit.

[Dragonal01]

after the battle was over Coleson searched each of the bodies, knowing he couldn't do anything to assist the dying man, and finds a scroll on the leader which he reads.

[SNIPER4HIRE7]

Solaire examines Rory giving a quick once over the boy he finds no other life threatening wounds so turns to the others whose hurt the most i can heal 2 of you, more if your willing to sit around while potions brew he informs the group his voice still calm but noticeably less authoritarian now the danger has passed and no ones lives are in immediate danger, his symbol is returned to its place on the chain around his neck.

[gallagher]

Ack, that arrow really took a bit out of me, I could use a little healing

[Vikingkingq]

As the substantially more nervous party rolls on down the road, Coleson takes a minute away from tending to the nasty cut on his side to take a look at the parchment. Unrolling it, he finds a rather skillful charcoal sketch of Captain Rebus and a somewhat more crude map of the stretch of road where the party was ambushed.

[SNIPER4HIRE7]

Here you go Solaire says gently pulling the symbol from the chain around his neck pressing it the wound a white light envelopes the halfing the arrow wound seems to heal in rapid time before their eyes, after the light fades. A faint smile appears on solaire's face, he turns around and slowly walks back to the wagon feeling a little drained, fatigue evident on his face.

[Harthar]

Harthar let out a shallow sigh of relief after Solaire was finished with his ministrations. He removed his now shaking hands from the boy's neck, having felt the skin knit itself as he removed the arrow as quickly, carefully, and painlessly as he was able. He managed to summon a smile to his lips as he patted the boy on the shoulder. "See, your going to be fine. Your mum will be proud of you, boy. Get some rest, we'll see to the cart." He gave the boy a reassuring shoulder squeeze before allowing himself to sit back roughly against the inside of the cart without a care to what he landed on.

The bowman glanced down at his blood soaked shaking hands and then looked beyond them to the arrow, now broken mid-shaft due to his moving around, and sighed again. Reaching down and around his leg he grabbed the arrow just below the head and then turned his body slightly to one side. With a growl meant to summon strength and courage he pulled the arrow through his leg with one swift movement. The growl ended in a gasp of pain followed by heavy shallow breaths meant to steady his heart beat. Grasping his healer's kit once more he wrapped the wound tightly. If Solaire offered his assistance he would wave the man aside, dismissing the offer.

There he would wait and rest for a bit whilst the others did what looting they felt necessary before pushing himself up and, once again, moving onto the seat of the cart and grasping the reigns. He lent forward and eyed the beast before him, "Alright, your going to behave yourself and do what I want, understand?" The horse didn't reply, giving him a single big brown eyed stare. Harthar grunted in mild amusement and then glanced at his companion. "All aboard who aren't walking. Lets get a move on..." He turned his icy-stare to the Captain, "... with your leave of course, Captain."

As soon as they were ready to go he would whip the reigns once more and hopefully move them forward again along their journey, hopefully reaching their destination in short order.


Lets see if we can't move this cart...
Cart Check: [roll0]

[Exsens]

Retaking his position at the back of the cart, beside the cleric as the rode away from the battle. Visions of his death lingered on his mind as queries drove them to the front. "Mere seconds," mumbled he. As he pondered how long the confrontation lasted. Bodies dropped around them before they could count how many were standing to start with. Many more would of dropped too, if those in his company held hesitation in their heart. Luckily, they can leave the field with their lives, and a few spoils.

The wood elf had plucked the fangs from the goblin leader's mouth. They were unkempt and dingy, easily removed with a bit of forced and now he held them in his bloodied hands. He shuffled them between hands, every so often, delighted to make a new trinket later in the day when his wounds had healed. They would accompany his twine nicely around his neck.

Eyeing the parchment in Coleson's hands through the corner of his eye, he let his voice slip, with a grinning eyes. "You're a marked man....dreadful~"

[Vikingkingq]

Eyeing the parchment in Coleson's hands through the corner of his eye, he let his voice slip, with a grinning eyes. "You're a marked man....dreadful~"

The captain looks at the parchment that's been handed to him with an expression of honest incomprehension. "That's queer. I've never heard of goblins targeting a human for ambush; didn't think they were smart enough to tell us apart, let alone draw. And I have no idea how they'd know my face."

[Vikingkingq]

The Afternoon of Day 7: Warm Welcome in Passfurd

At long last, the party emerges from the woods and reaches the crest of what they know realize was a gradually upwards-sloping ridge of hills. Before them lays the valley, and the intimidating wall of the Ironspine Mountains that lies beyond.

From the rise, the party can see Passfurd Town, which sits at the floor of the valley where the Great Northern Road and the Tumblestones River intersects. It mostly resembles the description you heard from the townsfolk, with one major exception: instead of a ford-and-ferry, there is now a stout wooden bridge anchored by stone abutments on either bank. Even from here, you can tell that this bridge has not been here long.

The town itself is a rather large collection of houses in a mix of the local stone and wood; the buildings are arranged in rough rectangular rows parallel to the river, bisected by a wide street continuing from where the Northern Road left off. Around the town is a mixed stone-and-wood wall, although you notice quite a few industrial buildings clustered on the southwestern edge of the town where their effluvia can be washed away downstream.

On the far side of the town from the bridge, you can see a road heading north out of the town, snaking up to the mountain path, but it’s clearly unfinished, with only a mere suggestion of a footpath continuing on. Nearer to the town, the road passes through cultivated fields and open grasslands dotted with stands of trees, which grow more and more thickly until they merge with the alpine forest that skirts the roots of the mountain range.

About halfway along the length of the road and a bit to the east, you can see a cleared hill with some kind of ruined black structure on top of it. Beyond it, trees give way to large swathes of cleared farmland cut in orderly ribbons and what might be clusters of huts on the far side of that.

Sweeping your eyes from east to west, you can see a tall tower on top of a hill nearer to the mountain pass, surrounded by another area of open fields.

[gallagher]

The captain looks at the parchment that's been handed to him with an expression of honest incomprehension. "That's queer. I've never heard of goblins targeting a human for ambush; didn't think they were smart enough to tell us apart, let alone draw. And I have no idea how they'd know my face."
Who you callin human? Anyway, I wouldnt worry too much, I am sure they were waiting for whatever came across them.

Looking about the town as it comes into view, Farkle notices a magnificent tower atop the hill near the mountain pass. Farkle hadn't been in many human towns, but if they build towers so tall, he could get used to it. New heights are new adventures.

So Captain, what kind of tower is that over there by the mountains?

[SNIPER4HIRE7]

Solaire casts his eyes about the area, looking forward to a return to town for supplies. any temple of pelor in town captain? he asks his voice filled with hope.

[Vikingkingq]

Looking about the town as it comes into view, Farkle notices a magnificent tower atop the hill near the mountain pass. Farkle hadn't been in many human towns, but if they build towers so tall, he could get used to it. New heights are new adventures.

So Captain, what kind of tower is that over there by the mountains?

The Captain smiles with an almost possessive pride, and responds. "That, my lad, is the Last Tower, the ancestral seat of Clan MacBethan and the home of Lord Lucan." Then his eyes suddenly fixate on the bridge below you. "What the hell is that..." he mutters, his brow furrowing.


Solaire casts his eyes about the area, looking forward to a return to town for supplies. any temple of pelor in town captain? he asks his voice filled with hope.

Rebus shakes his head in confusion and turns to the priest. "Yes? Oh, yes of course. Father Beckett runs the Church in the town. Nice old gent, I'm sure you'll get on fine."

[Vikingkingq]

As the party head down the rise and reach the bridge, you are stopped by a group of militiamen who bar the way across with halberds. "What the hell is this," Rebus barks at the largest of the five men, a heavily muscled man with the ashy-grey skin of a blacksmith. "Explain yourself, MacDougal!"

The man looks back at him with combined trepidation and sullen defiance. "Council orders, Cap'n. No one crosses the bridge without paying t'toll." Unfortunately, this only seems to make the captain angrier; meanwhile, one of the town militiamen quietly legs it to what looks like a toll house near the bridge and you can see him duck his head in the door. Shortly after, a man in rather better dress than the plain-looking studded leather sported by the militiamen begins heading towards the bridge, but he's a way off.

"TOLL? The town was skating on thin ice when it came up with the harebrained idea of building a bridge, but there's no way in hell his Lordship will countenance a tax on travelers on his land," he shouts, hand clutching at his sword hilt. MacDougal retorts that a royal charter gives the town the right to charge fees for use of town property, and it's all starting to get a bit tense.


Here's where the party needs to do some good RPing and social rolls before the situation deteriorates further. Diplomacy, Bluff, or Intimidate all might work; Local Lore might offer a clue.

[Exsens]

"Seems Rebus knows him, do you?" queried Robin in Rory's direction. Peering out through a corner at the scene near the captain. The smell of river water was dancing all around them and it danced so well, yet it did not accompany the mood at all. With a low volume he spoke again, "Seems Rebus need a silver tongue." A smile accompany his last words as the flew toward's Coleson's ears.

[Dragonal01]

-Yesterday-
Coleson after seeing what was on the scroll would have asked the Captain why would anyone hire Goblins to kill him?

-Today-
Coleson steps up to the guards & Rebus. "Come now gentlemen, we're all reasonable men here aren't we? There's no need to draw weapons, also this is quite obviouly Captain Rebus who is in service to Lord Lucan, and we are accompanying him to also enter the employ of the Lord, so surely you can let us through without a toll?"

Diplomacy[roll0]

[gallagher]

-Yesterday-
Coleson after seeing what was on the scroll would have asked the Captain why would anyone hire Goblins to kill him?

-Today-
Coleson steps up to the guards & Rebus. "Come now gentlemen, we're all reasonable men here aren't we? There's no need to draw weapons, also this is quite obviouly Captain Rebus who is in service to Lord Lucan, and we are accompanying him to also enter the employ of the Lord, so surely you can let us through without a toll?"

Diplomacy[roll0]

Especially considering that we have special, important information that the Lord wants us to bring to him immediately. I would hate to be the one who takes the blame for the delay that we are already having on this bridge...
[roll0] for bluff

[Vikingkingq]

The militiamen look really uncertain but certainly less hostile; sure, it's their job to take tolls, but you get the sense that no one told them what to do about the Lord's officers. They mill about, looking from one to the other with nervous, questioning glances. "No need for drawing weapons," MacDougal agrees. "Look, this ain't up to me. Orders are, if they crosses the bridge, they pays a toll. Don't say nothing about no important information." He licks his lips. "A silver a head ain't much to ask, is it?"

Rebus doesn't look much pleased."I'm not about to pay a bent copper. This is an illegal toll, and I am an officer-"

"Of the Castle," interjects a new voice, as a man in rich silks under a silvery chain-mail shirt arrives, cantering up on a fine looking horse. "Captain McIntyre, good evening."

"Conor O'Reilly," the captain replies, a note of reluctant respect entering his voice. "I suppose you can tell me what the hell is going on here."

"What is going on," the young man replies, grimacing. "Is things going from bad to worse. Town Charter gives us the right to build improvements on town lands, and that's what the Council's done - and at no little expense. Town Charter also says we have the right to charge a toll for use of city property, and that's what the Council decided. Still...the ordinance only mentioned tolls for merchants and bona-fide travelers. I don't think county officials qualify, do you Sergeant MacDougal? After all, they're not passing through and they're certainly not here to trade, are they?"

MacDougal looks relieved that he's been offered a lifeline, and that he's no longer in charge. "Nossir. Certainly not boney-fiddey travelers sir." One of the men whispers something about the various supplies piled up in the wagon, but MacDougal turns round and gives the man a clout upside the head.

O'Reilly turns back to the Captain and extends an arm in welcome in direction of the town. "Sorry about the misunderstanding, Captain."

"You do know there's going to be trouble over this, lad."

"There always is," the young man sighs.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The party enters the town in silence, with Rebus quietly fuming. He calls a halt outside a rather large building on the main road."Right. Blast it. I'll have to report to the castle on this tonight; this bloody bridge wasn't even here when I left and I'd no word of a toll. It's been a long trip and you deserve a rest, so you stay in town tonight - that over there is the Hungry Barrel, you should find rooms there no problem - and come up to the Tower in the morning while I go up with Rory here." He tosses you a purse of coins as you dismount from the wagon. "Call that your first week's wages. Report to the tower at midday for an interview with His Lordship."

[Vikingkingq]

The Hungry Barrel Inn:

When you enter the room, the air is thick with the smell of beer intermingled with the savory aroma of some kind of rustic stew bubbling in a giant cauldron. There are a number of round tables closer to the bar and a series of long benches on the left where the cauldron steams over the enormous hearth that takes up much of one wall.

The tables are mostly full this evening (although there are a few empty ones), and there is a pronounced tendency of the (mostly male) clientele to sit by craft – the brewers are nearest the bar, the sawyers give off a strong scent of sap and sawdust, and the slaughter-men are made to sit by the door that leads to the jakes out back, furthest away from the food.

The crowd gives you a rather measuring look, neither overly welcoming nor overly hostile as you make your way to the barman.

[SNIPER4HIRE7]

Solaire timidly walks up to the bar man his eyes downcast, when he gets to the bar he takes a deep breath his hand snaking its way to his holy symbol, excuse m..me, my comrades and i need rooms for the night do you h..have any? he asks his voice quiet and hard to hear over the sounds of laughter from a table nearby. people hear don't seem too friendly maybe they aren't use to adventurers

[Vikingkingq]

Solaire timidly walks up to the bar man his eyes downcast, when he gets to the bar he takes a deep breath his hand snaking its way to his holy symbol, excuse m..me, my comrades and i need rooms for the night do you h..have any?

"Of course we do, young Brother. I'd be a poor innkeep if I didn't. David MacHeath at yer service. How many rooms would ye be needing, then?" The bartender, a powerfully built man with salt and pepper hair and rather impressive muttonchops gives Solaire an inquiring look as he finishes off a pint.

[gallagher]

Setting next to the priest, I whisper at Solaire: We best stick together, one room, two is fine if they have a conjoined wall. I dont want to let our guard down our first night here.

Clearing his halfling throat and speaking up to the barkeep: And what's in the pot over in the corner? After the rations we've been on, I could use a hot meal

[SNIPER4HIRE7]

Solaire heeds his friends advise 1 room if possible or 2 if there conjoined walls he says his hand grasping his symbol in a manner he finds assuring. i also w..wouldn't mind a good meal what, do you have? he asks.

[Harthar]

The journey from where they had been ambushed had been pleasant enough; they travelled through the countryside and a great amount of forested areas, much to his liking. He didn’t like towns as much as he did the outdoors, hence the reason he had pursued a career out of it. He still had a great deal to learn but he was dedicated enough that with time it would come to him, he just needed to get himself on his feet before he could follow his heart. He had believed that joining the military would have given him the skills he needed and enough coin to use them effectively... he had been wrong. Whilst he had enjoyed his years in the army, he was glad to see them behind him and a brighter future ahead.

Emerging from the woods brought him out of his revere. He scanned the valley that eventually opened up before them and the wall that was the Ironspine Mountains in the distance. A town at the valley floor, which he assumed to be Passfurd Town, sat next to the Great Northern Road and the Tumblestone River. The bridge caught his eye and he recalled those he had questioned seven days previous had mentioned a ford and ferry. It was good to see progress in such small towns, especially Passfurd given what ailed it. It indicated that things might not be that bad after all, as the town was willing to spend funds on improving infrastructure that would, in turn, improve trade. The sight of the bridge also supplied him with other information when he reflected on what he had already been told. There must not have been trade going to this town in some time given that those he spoke to in Yellowgrass still believed the ford and ferry was here. The time it would take to then build and completely finish a bridge like this would be months. It gave him an idea of exactly how long the Captain had been away from his beloved town, and it told him the situation of the town with regards to trade; especially when Yellowgrass is only seven days cart ride away, a relatively short amount of time in the grand scheme of trade.

His scan of the town from such a distance brought in the fact that it was made from stone and wood, meaning good foundations. As did the stone and wood wall that surrounded much of the town save for that which abutted the river; strategically a weakpoint, but an acceptable one for a small town. Dark eyes scanned the rest of the surrounding countryside, from the road, to the fields and the alpine forests, the black ruin, and the tall tower that sat upon a hill near to the mountain pass. All in all quite a lovely secluded town that was quite obviously on the rise as far as wealth went.

He carried on with the cart, following behind the Captain as they made their way over the crest of the hill and down into the valley toward the bridge that would see them into Passfurd.

Their arrival at the bridge was not as joyous as the Captain had believed it seemed. The toll was an inconvenience, and although not a massive amount of money, it was enough to make the already struggling merchants a little less richer and thus a little less likely to return with their goods, depending on how well their trade went within the towns’ walls. Harthar remained silent during the entirety of the engagement with the guards and their eventual entry into the town without having to pay the toll.

Stopping a short while later, Harthar gathered his belongings and dismounted the cart, allowing the Captain to assume his seat and carry on with the still unconscious Rory. He caught the heavy bag of coins and, with an uneasy look on his face, stuffed it quickly into his backpack with the hopes that not many had seen it. Gold coins, whilst not the biggest sum of money, was enough to catch the eyes of potential thieves and mark them as targets. Harthar did not wish for his gold or equipment to be stolen on his first day in town.

The rangerly human followed the others into the Inn’s common room, once more moving to one side so as not to block the doorway. He inadvertently found himself next to the slaughter-men who smelt just as slaughter-men ought. He smiled slightly and inclined his head to them, ”Afternoon, gentlemen. Fine day for a brew wouldn’t you say?” He grinned and moved past them, hoping not to interrupt them any further. As he moved he glanced around the room, taking note of who sat where and making a hasty assessment of who they might be as far as their cloths and demeanour conveyed.

Spot Check: [roll0]

Making his assessments and observations before he reached the bar he turned that slight smile on the bartender, waiting for him to deal with Solaire and Robin’s requests before getting his attention and making his own. ”Aye, I’ll have some of that stew also, and a mug of water if it wouldn’t be too much trouble. Also, my good man, might you be able to tell me where a tailor might be located in town? I have a few pieces of clothing that could do with a good mend, you see.” He gave a slight chuckle before removing a few coins from a pocket and sliding them over the bar to the tender.

Once these questions had been answered and his order filled, he would take the mug of water and the empty bowl with him over to one of the empty tables in a relatively quiet part of the room that was close to a wall. It also happened to be close to the door and the stairs leading up to the rooms that Solaire and Robin were negotiating over. On the way to the table he helped himself to the stew, filling his bowl almost to the top, but not so much that it would spill out if he was bumped. He enjoyed eating a nice hot meal, but not being covered in one. At the table he would set down the mug and the bowl, remove the pack from his back, along with his bow, and set it all at his feet as he himself fell into one of the chairs. There he would enjoy his stew and his mug of water, eventually setting the mug and bowl aside to be cleared up, hopefully by one of the wenches.

One such wench did in fact come to remove his bowl and mug, he hailed her to wait a moment, ”Good woman, might I have a moment of your time. I am new to this town, you see, and would thus be most appreciative if a fine woman as yourself could answer a few small questions. Would you be able to do that for me?” He waited for an affirmative before continuing, ”I have heard a name around town, MacBethan, I can only assume that by the respectful tone with which the name is said that they are the Lords of these lands? Can you tell me anything about the MacBethan’s? Is theirs a large family, a small one? Where do they reside? Was it they who funded the building of the bridge into town? Do they treat the folk here well?” These questions, one and all, would most likely be asked of the woman and he attempt, with his charismatic ways, to engender her to answer them. Should she prove to be a good looking wench, and receptive to his advances, then he might in fact take it further than he already had and proceed to flirt with her a little more.


Charisma Check: [roll1]

[Vikingkingq]

The rangerly human followed the others into the Inn’s common room, once more moving to one side so as not to block the doorway. He inadvertently found himself next to the slaughter-men who smelt just as slaughter-men ought. He smiled slightly and inclined his head to them, ”Afternoon, gentlemen. Fine day for a brew wouldn’t you say?” He grinned and moved past them, hoping not to interrupt them any further. As he moved he glanced around the room, taking note of who sat where and making a hasty assessment of who they might be as far as their cloths and demeanour conveyed.

The slaughter-men look up and mutter a response to Harthar's pleasantries. From looking around, it's pretty clear that the seating arrangements are mostly by trade.



Making his assessments and observations before he reached the bar he turned that slight smile on the bartender, waiting for him to deal with Solaire and Robin’s requests before getting his attention and making his own. ”Aye, I’ll have some of that stew also, and a mug of water if it wouldn’t be too much trouble. Also, my good man, might you be able to tell me where a tailor might be located in town? I have a few pieces of clothing that could do with a good mend, you see.”
MacHeath looks askance at the request for water. "Stew's tuppence a bowl, but we sell ales, stouts, bitters, lagers, and a fine selection of spirits for the discerning palate. If it's water ye want, the river's that way - but I'd recommend drinking upstream from the bridge."

"Tailor? There's nawt that fancy here sir; this is a simple town for simple folk. If it's fancy stitching yer after, ye'll have to buy new from a passing traveller or take a trip to the big city, but that's three week's south. But if it's simple mending, there's many a goodwife in this town that takes in washing an'that for unmarried men to earn a few pennies."

You get the sense that the barkeep things you're a bit of a fancy southerner.



”I have heard a name around town, MacBethan, I can only assume that by the respectful tone with which the name is said that they are the Lords of these lands? Can you tell me anything about the MacBethan’s? Is theirs a large family, a small one? Where do they reside? Was it they who funded the building of the bridge into town? Do they treat the folk here well?”


The barmaid, a solid woman with the forearms of a stevedore from carrying an unbelievable number of steins with each hand, snorts at Harthar's flirtation - she's clearly used to fending off much worse. "The MacBethans are the lords of Passfurd, as everyone knows. They live up at the Last Tower, but they keeps mostly to themselves, especially of late. As for the bridge, that was paid from town taxes, and don't I know it! One penny out of each shilling for the last three months!"

[Vikingkingq]

Clearing his halfling throat and speaking up to the barkeep: And what's in the pot over in the corner? After the rations we've been on, I could use a hot meal
Solaire heeds his friends advise 1 room if possible or 2 if there conjoined walls he says his hand grasping his symbol in a manner he finds assuring. i also w..wouldn't mind a good meal what, do you have? he asks.

The bartender gestures in the direction of the stewpot with his rag. "The wife's the one that makes the stew, I believe it's sausage and leeks tonight, with potatoes and carrots for a base. Tuppence a bowl, and best damn deal you'll find in town." He puffs up with vicarious pride over his wife's cooking.

He looks somewhat confused at the priest's question. "Well, there's only two beds to a room, and we're a family establishment, you understand. But all of the rooms share walls, of course, 'cept for the ones on the corners - that's how buildings work."

[Vikingkingq]

As you hang out in the inn, over the next hour or two, a couple of things happen (we'll take these in order, but we can split-sequence if you want to ignore one of them).


A rather unsteady drunk clad in dirty, patched up clothing limps up to the bar and tries to get a drink on credit. MacHeath clearly knows him, as you can tell from when he raises his voice at "Hamish," berating him for coming into his bar when he's been cut off until he pays his tab. Hamish maintains that he doesn't remember getting cut off, and will beg you to stand him to a pint. From the reactions of the patrons and MacHeath's posture, you get the sense that this is a recurring drama.
About a half-hour after you settle down, a flamboyantly dressed man in robes of swirling purple and blue enters the tavern, followed by a henchman carrying a crate that clinks. He makes his way through the crowd, talking quietly but making extravagant gestures with his hands and arms. Here and there, you can see the exchange of coins for something, and eventually he'll get to your table and address you: "Good evening, weary travellers! You must be new to this fair town; I am Doctor Mortimer the Magnificent, apothecary and medico, factor and tradesperson, and general impresario. How do you do? I wonder if I could interest you in a bottle of my revolutionary, revitalizing health potion? Cures all aches and pains, bids the torn flesh renew itself, banishes all illness and ailments, proof against all poisons and miasmas! A silver a bottle, and what is your life balanced against a single silver coin?"
An hour after you arrive, Conor O'Reilly will enter the bar and seek you out. He whispers quietly, just barely above the noise of the inn, "might I have a word with you gentlemen about a mutually beneficial proposition?"

[SNIPER4HIRE7]

Solaire feeling rather embarrassed asks for 3 rooms all next to each other and orders a bowl of soup taking care he wanders to back to the group we have rooms for tonight he says his voice quiet, he then sits down and quietly eats his meal a look of content evident on his face.

when the merchant arrives solaire looks up in interest, when he hears the mans spiel he can't resist letting out a loud laugh at the merchant, looking around his face turns red and he stares at the floor embarrassment evident in his body language, um..sir i..i don't mean to be rude but healing potions tend to cost quite a bit per..perhaps you could tell me w..what herbs you are using as a fellow healer, it might be something i haven't heard of before he says his voice starting quiet but becoming louder and steadier as he talks about herbs and healing.

[Vikingkingq]

when the merchant arrives solaire looks up in interest, when he hears the mans spiel he can't resist letting out a loud laugh at the merchant, looking around his face turns red and he stares at the floor embarrassment evident in his body language, um..sir i..i don't mean to be rude but healing potions tend to cost quite a bit per..perhaps you could tell me w..what herbs you are using as a fellow healer, it might be something i haven't heard of before he says his voice starting quiet but becoming louder and steadier as he talks about herbs and healing.

His pearly-white smile not slipping a bit, Doctor Mortimer will blather at you about random herbs you've never heard of before.

Int check +3 since you know about herbs.

[SNIPER4HIRE7]

Solaire takes note of each herb and pauses to consider them his smile fades a little as he considers the effect they would have on people.

http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3730177/ (21)

sir it seems this potion while not harmful wouldn't do anything maybe mild pain relief but not what you claim Solaire states his voice turning slightly angry a frown on his face

[Harthar]

Harthar took note of the answers he got to his questions, not pressing them further or appearing as if any of the information really interested him or surprised him. Mainly because it didn’t. He did not necessarily expect to be given such a small amount of information from his questions, but then again, he should never have expected them to be verbose to an outsider. Despite that fact he was also not feeling particularly charismatic that day, no doubt a result of the travel exhaustion getting to him. Thus he decided to sit and enjoy the atmosphere, not starting any conversations but not ignoring any should they find him as inevitably it did.

Hamish was the first he had to deal with, which he found simple enough, shrugging and apologizing that he had no coin to spare himself now that he had eaten and had his sole mug of ale. If continued to be pressed he would slide his chair back and use some of that intimidation he had been taught in the army, but only directed at the drunk and made very clear his intentions in a quiet voice so that only the man could hear him. ”Walk away from the table now. I don’t want any trouble, but by the gods, Hamish, if you press me I’ll put you on your arse...” His cavernous orbs and rumbling quiet tone were quite intimidating.

Intimidate: [roll0]

Should the drunkard move away as Harthar had so, kindly, directed him to, the archer would return to his seat and continue to survey the room. If a wench came close he would order another ale and then sip it as he wound down after the long journey, that was of course until he was interrupted for the second time, this time by a flamboyantly dressed man who seemed to be selling some sort of miracle cure. Harthar did not believe it for a moment, he had seen such charlatans operating amongst the camp followers and less intelligent members of the army he had served with. If the man was telling the truth then good on him, but Harthar was just fine with seeing to his own wounds and using the conventional, true, tested and tried healing potions. He did pay attention when Solaire got himself involved, he prepared himself to get up once more, but this time to defend his companion. Situations like this could flare up at anytime. After all Solaire was discrediting this man’s product in front of people who would most likely have purchased it given their state; loss of revenue could cause any man to resort to violence.

After all that had been settled, Harthar would once again return to his seat, though this time he made a silent promise that should they be interrupted again he would leave for his room. It was starting to get late anyway and they were to meet the Lord of this town in the morning, they had best be up early to bathe and be presented at the Tower well before they were expected. Just as he was about to get up to move to his room he was interrupted for the third time, though this time was different to the last.

Harthar sighed, picking up his backpack. ”Whatever your selling we aren’t interested. That other failed alchemist tried to peddle his goods to us and he was turned aside, what makes you think you stand a better chance?” The tall muscular human asked, a brow raised in question.

[gallagher]

Upon the entrance of Conor: A private word, aye, I wouldn't mind a little talk of business

With the entrance of the Apothecary: Bah Thinking: we already have one cleric, why would anyone buy a limited version of another in a bottle? Anyone will do anything for a gold piece, like brewing potions instead of adventuring himself. No, I think I will hold onto my money this time

I do not buy a drink for the drunken man with the huge tab

[Vikingkingq]

Solaire takes note of each herb and pauses to consider them his smile fades a little as he considers the effect they would have on people.

http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3730177/ (21)

sir it seems this potion while not harmful wouldn't do anything maybe mild pain relief but not what you claim Solaire states his voice turning slightly angry a frown on his face


With the entrance of the Apothecary: Bah Thinking: we already have one cleric, why would anyone buy a limited version of another in a bottle? Anyone will do anything for a gold piece, like brewing potions instead of adventuring himself. No, I think I will hold onto my money this time

Doctor Mortimer flounces off in a huff. "Bah, you Pelorites are all the same! You don't want to admit the superior virtues of science because then you'll lose power over the masses! Well, I will go find people who can appreciate modern thinking."

[Vikingkingq]

Harthar sighed, picking up his backpack. ”Whatever your selling we aren’t interested. That other failed alchemist tried to peddle his goods to us and he was turned aside, what makes you think you stand a better chance?” The tall muscular human asked, a brow raised in question.


Upon the entrance of Conor: A private word, aye, I wouldn't mind a little talk of business


"I'm not here to sell you anything. Look, I know our encounter at the bridge didn't go that well, but you have to understand that the town doesn't have an alternative to the bridge tolls, not with the mines and metalworks shut down." Conor takes a pull on his pint to steady himself.

"I'm sure you saw the road we've been building up to the pass - that was our first effort to bring trade back to Passfurd. However, we've had nothing but trouble with the road. Tools have gone missing, surveyor's flags torn down, and more than just one or two men have gone missing. As you can imagine, morale on the road works is rock-bottom, so I don't know if these men just ran off the job or what."

"What I do know is that these delays are putting the town's prosperity at risk. If we can get the disruptions dealt with, and get that road finished, the trade from over the pass might be enough to allow some kind of compromise on the toll. I know you have your duties up at the castle, but if you could investigate and stop this sabotage, my father would be willing to pay you 50 gold a head." He leans back in his chair expectantly. "What do you think of that, gentlemen?"

[Harthar]

Harthar paused, he could tell by the man’s tone, posture and general manner that he was distressed in some way. Thus he listened to what the man had to say before slowly nodding his head, glancing once at the other companion that had come to speak with the man before turning back to Conor. ”Well, since we are in the area and will be assisting your Lord with maintaining the peace here, it isn’t outside our realm of responsibility to look into the matter you speak of. I accept your proposal on behalf of my companions. We will begin investigating once our business at the castle is finished with. If we need to contact you where can we find you when you’re not on toll duty?”

[gallagher]

Harthar paused, he could tell by the man’s tone, posture and general manner that he was distressed in some way. Thus he listened to what the man had to say before slowly nodding his head, glancing once at the other companion that had come to speak with the man before turning back to Conor. ”Well, since we are in the area and will be assisting your Lord with maintaining the peace here, it isn’t outside our realm of responsibility to look into the matter you speak of. I accept your proposal on behalf of my companions. We will begin investigating once our business at the castle is finished with. If we need to contact you where can we find you when you’re not on toll duty?”

yes, i think we can spare the time and effort

sorry for my sporadic and short responses, work is really picking up

[SNIPER4HIRE7]

Solaire nods his head slightly in agreement then turns back to his drink