The Traveler's Tale - IC

[Mordae]

Low Market, Artisan's Quarter, Free City of Greyhawk; 5th hour past noon, 11th day of Flocktime, 591 CY

The late afternoon sun of early summer shines brightly on the cobblestoned streets of the Artisan's Quarter as the hustle and bustle of the Low Market begins to dwindle, the shadows gradually lengthening with the approaching onset of evening. This week in particular has been abuzz with the arrival of the first caravans of the season, having traveled to the Free City from far-off places like Keomond and Aerdy to trade in exotic foodstuffs, furs, gems, and cloth in exchange for the bright gold and silver that seems to flow so freely in the grand capital of the Flaeness. Most stay for only a fortnight, some even less, before their wagons are once again groaning with the weight of new goods bound on new ventures.

At a nearby message post, a member of the messengers' union stands stretched on tiptoe, pounding a nail through a parchment notice to affix it to the well-worn wood. The poor fellow's teal-and-mustard particolored outfit is sweat-stained; the nearly-empty bag of rolled parchments by his feet suggests he's been all over the city today doing the same task. Once the recalcitrant piece of iron has sufficiently pierced the post to gain purchase, the man sets another nail in place at the bottom so the contents are revealed for all to see.



Galts' Grand Caravan
departs for Hardby by boat - 15th Flocktime, noon sharp!
Wharf #6 - Silver Dawn
Passengers - 10gp
Extra trunks - 1gp each

Sellswords welcome
must bring own equipment
apply to Quartermaster Maff
at the Whistling Fish Inn, River Quarter

[Illven]

Annanil half stumbles towards the post and the note. Getting up to it, she leans on the pole to steady herself.

Hmmm. Guard duty. Not glamorous, but it pays the bar tab. She mused outloud to herself.

[Torgarn]

Randor heads to the message post after leaving the inn he is staying at. I suppose protecting a trading caravan could be a good way to stretch my legs. he says smiling, then he notices the woman staggering around near the pole, Are you alright?

[Illven]

Annanil nods before turning to the man.

Yeah, just a long night at the bar. She responds.

Name's Annanil She says holding out a hand for a handshake.

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

"Oh, there you are!"

The voice appeared to come from a man walking briskly through traffic. He looked to be in his mid twenties, garbed in threads of Oeridian patterns and a feathered felt hat. In his clenched right hand appeared to be a crumpled parchment.

"You are the one posting these posters, yes?" the man walked closer with a smile, opening up the parchment in his hand, revealing it to be the same as the one the man of the messenger's union had just posted.

"So sorry to have taken down one of these, I am interested with the work it says here. But I am new to this city, and I was wondering if you could lead me to..." he looked at the parchment's content, "...to the Whistling Fish Inn?"

[Torgarn]

Randor takes Annanil's hand in his, gripping her hand confidently and firmly. He gives a grin, My name is Randor, I take it you are interested in this job, from your reaction to the posting?

Randor turns to the man who approached him. They aren't my notices, but I do know the location of the Inn you ask about, I'll be happy to escort you there.

[Illven]

Annanil blushes at the hand grab.

Yeah I am. You know anything about it? She asks.

[Torgarn]

Randor releases his grip, still smiling widely, I don't know much of this specific trader, but caravans generally pay fairly well, plus you get loot from any raiders who you kill or subdue whilst providing protection. The best part of travelling with good caravans though is that they quite often go to interesting places, which, to me at least, can be better than gold.

[Illven]

Interesting places, huh. Annanil mused outloud.

[Torgarn]

Randor winks, They are the best places to pick up valuable goods for caravans to trade.

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

"Oh. So terribly sorry to have mistook you. That is a bit embarrassing, if I should say so, to have mistook a perfect gentleman as yourself for a mere messenger. Ah, not that it's a bad thing to be one, honest folks they are...aha ha ha ha!" Remi's face was a bit flustered. "Ehem, in that case all is well. I will gladly take you on your offer, thank you very much," Remi spoke, beaming, as if the blunder never happened at all.

"Remi Krevel, by the way. And may I ask as to the good sir and lady's names?"

[Torgarn]

Randor turns once again to the newcomer, My name is Randor, Randor Tarrick. It seems you are both interest in the same job as me. He grins, I would be happy to show you to the inn, we can all have a ale together while we wait our turns to interview.

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

"A pleasure to have made your acquaintance, Sir Randor. And I would be delighted to work with you. If I get accepted, that is. Ha ha ha!" Remi kept the conversation while they began to walk towards their destination.

"But definitely the ale," he smiled.

[Illven]

My name is Annanil. The lady said gesturing to herself.

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

"A lovely name for a lovely lady," Remi replied with a slight bow. "So I take it you two have been traveling together? So sorry for imposing myself."

[Illven]

Annanil blushes again, clearly new to the attention.

I'm uh. No We just met. She clarifies.

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

"Ah, well then it seems we all just met! How poetic! This must be fate!" Remi exclaimed, maybe a bit too loudly.

"Ah, this is how they always start, yes. Those famous adventurers. Having chance meetings and humble beginnings, then going on to shake up this very world's foundations!" he continued with exaggerated body motions and a wide smile.Then,

"Oh, so terribly sorry. I have this habit of easily getting carried away. Ha ha ha!" he said, dropping his head and scratching the exposed part of his hair. "But wouldn't it be grand, yes? If that were all to happen to us. Yes, that'd be grand indeed."

I'm just keeping the RP going here. If you guys are ready to have the trio reach the inn, I'm good to go. Unless our last player wants to show up before then.

[Torgarn]

Randor's grin grows with each sentence out of his new friend's mouth. You and me are of a like mind friend, adventure calls to my blood like a siren song. If the two of you are prepared, we can head to the inn right away.

RP is fun! It's the heart of DnD and we shouldn't ever feel the need to rush to the Inn if anyone has any RP left in them for a scene. We can always meet our last member at the inn if we need to.

[Illven]

This is going to be my first adventure. Annanil admits to the two men.

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

"I don't have any other business, so yes, I am up for heading to the inn and starting this adventure!" Remi replied.

"Oh, wait! Lemme see..." From underneath his cloak he produced a small bag, a haversack, and opened it. He seemed to be looking for something inside with a worried look, counting it seemed, and when all was accounted for, his smile returned. "Yes! I am all set."

Turning to the lady, he added, "Oh, the first time is always special! Right, Sir Randor? Why, I still remember mine like it was but yesterday! It was nothing big, but the thrill!"" he regaled before lunging forward, piercing and an invisible enemy with an invisible sword, "and the gratitude of the people you help is the biggest of treasures one can receive," he turned and smiled.

"Do not worry! With us by your side, we will make this especially so for you!"

[Jurai]

A haggard dwarf walks up. "Are ye here ta join tha caravan? I'm Zircon Ironhold, Dwarven Warmaster. 'Tis an honor to meet ye!" His thick Dwarven accent immediately obvious, not that it bothers him. "Ye'll need a skilled figh'er, and tha's where I come in."

[Illven]

I am a skilled fighter. Annanil replied pointing to the bow on her back.

I do know how to use this.

[Jurai]

"Aye, but yer not a dwarf." Zircon says, his racial pride and boisterousness coming through.

[Illven]

And? Annanil askes.

[Jurai]

"Dwarves 'er better warriors than anyone else. Or at least Elves." Zircon says.

[Illven]

But I'm not an elf. Annanil points out.

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

"Now, now," Remi cut in. "Let us save our skills for whoever dares to attack our soon-to-be employer's caravan, shall we? I am sure there will be plenty of opportunity there, though may Fharlanghn forbid so." He smiled, like he hoped that would somehow make the others smile with him.

[Jurai]

"All righ'." Zircon said, his face curving into a light smirk.

[Torgarn]

Randor smiles, what a day, 3 new friends already. If you would like, we can head to the inn now, wouldn't want some upstarts taking our job. he says winking.

[Mordae]

The actual messenger is so flustered by the boisterous presence of Remi that he just stands there, stammering, and when Randor steps into the conversation in his stead the poor fellow is once again consigned to his life's lot of ignomity. Snatching up his satchel of notices and nails, he storms off into the market to continue his assigned duties.

Meanwhile, the motley quartet follows Randor's lead, cutting south through the Artisan's Quarter on the gently downhill-sloping road that eventually leads to the Marsh Gate. Before the city wall is in sight, though, an outsized building can be seen looming on the east side of the street. Clearly built to giantish proportions, it nonetheless has a busy stream of human and demi-human clientele moving in and out of the large front door even at this time of day; hung from the stone facade is a sign depicting a large fish and several cartoonish musical notes. Through an adjacent alley, a similarly proportioned cottage can be seen abutting the larger building at the rear. Both have steeply sloping thatch roofs, a rustic oddity in this cosmopolitan city.

[Jurai]

"Interestin' architecture, 'ere in Greyhawk." Zircon says.

[Illven]

Annanil looks at the city in wonder.

I've been here a week, and this city still astounds me. She states.

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

"Indeed. It is as they say. This city is a melting pot of different cultures and races. Truly the Gem of the Flanaess," Remi agreed, nodding his head with his right hand stroking his goatee.

"Ah!" he exclaimed as the signboard with the rather large fish and musical notes caught his eye. "I assume we have arrived at our destination?" he asked, looking at Randor's direction.

[Torgarn]

Indubitably we have, my friend. Randor says with a hearty laugh. Let's head inside, I could use an ale.

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

"Oh! Just in time! That walk has made me thirsty. Nothing a good mug of ale can't fix!" Remi grinned, then marched forward, and when he realized the others weren't following, stopped and turned around.

"Well, don't just stand there! Come on, gents! And lady. We can do the architectural appreciation as much as we want later. Ale waits for no man!" he laughed.

"Oh, right. We should probably sign up for the caravan first. What we came here for, after all. Wouldn't want to have, as good Sir Randor put it, upstarts taking our jobs, now, would we?" he said before turning back towards the direction of the inn entrance and continued his march.

"Excuse me, sire (or madame). We are here for this," he reached inside his pocket for the parchment and unraveled it for the inn attendant to read.

[Jurai]

Zircon smiles. "Fer ale, ye cannae beat tha great flavor of Ironhold Stout." He says. "Barmaid, I would like some Ironhold Stout, please an' thank ye!"

[Mordae]

The inn attendant is a waifish girl of about fourteen, who hops down off an oversized barstool and scurries over to the doorway, her twin dishwater-blonde braids trailing behind her freckle-dotted face. Her smile could light up the room even on a cloudy day, and she bobs a quick curtsey with a practiced spread of the hem on her blue plaid dress. "Good morrow to you, sirs and madame; if it is Master Maff you seek, you'll find him in that booth yonder." She extends one arm to point to the north side of the taproom, where a stout, bearded man sits alone, marking books by candlelight. The giantish proportions of the room make him almost look like a dwarf, except that his close-cropped auburn hair and beard are decidedly un-dwarfish.

"I'll have to see whether we have a cask of the Ironhold already open, sir," she answers Zircon's hearty plea with an earnest nod. "If we have to crack it, I must warn you of the three gold piece tapping fee. Unless you'd like to purchase the whole cask, in which case I'll find Master Gruenab so you two can settle on the price."

[Jurai]

Zircon smiles, and tosses her a small bag of gold. "An' keep tha change, lass! Good ale is worth every gold."

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

Remi patted the dwarf's back. "I'm learning to like you more by the second! Ha ha ha!"

"Right, so there's our man. Let us go and get this done with. Don't want to have the ale waiting!" he smiled as he waltzed through the taproom and over to the man who was called Master Maff.

"A good day to you, sir! My colleagues and I would like to discuss about this," he placed the ad on the table for the man to read, "...ad you posted. We are interested for the position of your caravan guards. You are hiring, yes?"

[Illven]

Annanil chuckled too as the bag of gold flew to the girl.

Then as they talked to the man.

I'm a skilled bow user if it matters. Annanil replied.

[Jurai]

"An' I'm Zircon Ironhold, Dwarven Warmaster." Zircon introduces himself.

[Torgarn]

Randor approaches with the others. He sweeps his cap off, doing a short, but elaborate bow to their future employer. Last, but almost certainly not least, my name is Randor. I kill things in interesting ways. he says grinning.

[Mordae]

Master Maff pauses mid-scrawl and peers up from over the table, which, on account of the building's scale, reaches up almost to his armpits. "Yes, indeed I am," he rumbles in a gravelly but pleasant voice. "Though you are the first to apply. I had set those notices for posting a good three days ago. Blasted guilds--give them the power of negotiation and their quality runs right through the floor. Given your various introductions, I think I can safely assume that you each can provide your own equipment. In addition to food and transportation for this five-day journey, you'll be paid ten gold pieces per day--each--and double it if you prevent any losses, should we encounter trouble on the trip." He furrows his bushy red-brown eyebrows together. "You'll be required to submit to a brief magical exam prior to reporting on board. If that's a problem with any of you, you're welcome to find employment elsewhere, but you'll not find caravan pay more generous than Grand Master Galt provides."

Meanwhile, the surprised barmaid has hurried to the cellar and now emerges slowly, rolling a small keg up the railed ladder until it lands with a thud on the worn wood floor. Zircon immediately recognizes the Ironhold crest emblazoned on the side of the iron-banded barrel as the girl maneuvers her way toward the bar, rolling the vessel of dwarven brew ahead of her.

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

"Ten gold pieces a day and food. Not bad, not bad at all. I'll take it!" Remi beamed and extended his right hand to shake Master Maff's.

"Do we need to sign anything? Oh, but before I do, a few queries if I may. If it's not something to be kept a secret, may I know as to the destination of this caravan? Also, would you be opposed to the idea of me peddling some of my own goods during the trip? I happen to be a businessman as well, a parfumeur if you must ask. A no-name perfumer, just starting out, but I am planning to make it big someday! Who doesn't, yes?" he turned to his companions, as if expecting them to automatically nod. "I have samples here if you want to try them out. They're of good quality, and quite revolutionary in terms of the scents I am able to produce, that much I can be proud of!"

"And lastly," he paused, unsure whether to ask the question or not, but he continued, "...exactly what sort of magical examination is required?" he finally finishes with an awkward smile.

[Illven]

Annanil nods at Remi's last comment.

Yeah, that part's got me curious also. She states.

[Jurai]

Zircon smiles when he sees the crest. "Good on ye, lass! That's much better than that Stonebeard moose urine." He says. "I like tha terms meself, and would gladly submit ta any magical examination, me bein' a rightfully nonmagical dwarf aft'r all."

[Torgarn]

Randor just smiles still, I've no problem with submitting to your tests, as long as the tester doesn't get too touchy feely.

[Mordae]

"Oh, nothing dangerous," Maff growls out in assurance. "We just need to know that you're telling the truth and not some bandits trying to infiltrate through lies or enchantments. Won't take more than a couple of minutes." He takes his book and blows on the freshly inked page to make sure it's fully dry, then flips back a couple of pages. "If you're in, sign on this page and report to the Silver Dawn at sun-up on the 15th."

Turning to Remi, he addresses the perfumer's queries. "From Hardby, we'll be continuing on by boat across to Safeton on the Wild Coast, and then overland through the Lortmil Mountains to Ulek. As for your personal wares, so long as you're not competing with our cargo, I've no reason to object. If Grand Master Galt takes on a load of perfumes, though, we'll probably have to come to some contractual terms so we don't end up paying you for us to take a loss."

[Jurai]

Zircon nods. "Lortmil Mountains? 'Ats Stonebeard territory. If'n we bump inta any dwarves, be very careful. Stonebeards're surly and disrespectful."

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

"Yes, yes, understandable, sir. I see no problems at all regarding your requirements. Very well then! If I may," he motioned to borrow the man's quill, then proceeded to sign where the caravan master pointed as neatly as he could. He then stepped away from the table to let the others sign.

"Go on, go on. Sign up! This is one promising trip! We get to see the ocean, then the mountains. How lovely! Quite frankly I've never been to the seas, so this is indeed exciting!" Remi said to his comrades like a child a day before his first hunting trip. Then, eyeing the barmaid and the keg in tow, he darted off towards her.

"Hurry up, you lot. There might not be a drop of this fine Ironhold Stout left if you take your time any longer!" he grinned. Turning to the barmaid, he asked, "Can we take that one?" pointing at one of the vacant booths.

[Jurai]

Zircon signs and sits in the booth. "Aye, lass, bring ye tha ale o'er here, and 'ave a mug yerself! I's nae e'ryday tha' ye tap an Ironhold Stout!"

[Illven]

Annanil nods and proceeds to sign the contract. She then walks off to the booth and waits for a cup.

Wonder how this will taste. She muses.

[Mordae]

The arrival of the new keg causes quite a stir in the taproom, and by the time the contract is signed there's a crowd of patrons buzzing around the bar for a taste. The slip of a barmaid has her hands full until the noise draws the attention of the Whistling Fish's master--the hulking half-giant Gruenab. A bit of a hush falls over the room as the big proprietor stomps in from the back yard, an armful of four-foot logs stacked like kindling and tucked in one elbow. "Ho now, what's this?" he bellows. "You all be leaving Miss Lexie alone, and you'll get your ale one at a time." After stomping over to the fireplace to deposit the wood, he returns to the bar and lifts the cask with three fingers, depositing it on the bar with ease. A pat of his palm is sufficient to knock the tap into place, and he holds a giant-sized mug underneath with practiced care to ensure not a single drop is wasted.

While Lexie tends to the crowd, Gruenab looks over everyone's heads until his gaze settles on Zircon. "You there, good master dwarf--you have uncommonly good taste! Are you part of Master Maff's caravan train, and if so have you brought me a good dozen or more casks? My stores are running dry this time of year!"

[Jurai]

"I an' my comrades 'ave jus' signed on fer guard duty, though I would nae doubt tha' we could send some Ironhold Stout yer way, wit' proper payment, o' course. Uncle Sigmund's a lit'le picky abou' tha ale stores." Zircon said.

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

After receiving his own share, he sat down. He brought the drink to his nose, swirled it a little and took in the fragrance of the dwarven brew, before taking a gulp.

"Mmm! Ahh, this is good! The roasting of the malt is just perfect! I can see the ingredients are of the highest quality, yes, but there's something there that makes it all so...different. So different in the best way! Do pray tell, master dwarf! Is it the water, the yeast, or is there something you put to make this exquisite stout?"

[Torgarn]

Randor signs the sheet with a flourish and seats himself. Never one to turn down an ale, he drinks his in a single go and slams his mug down. Fantastic, though I still prefer a good elven wine myself.

[Illven]

Annanil sips before trying.

And absolutely hates it, making a face.

Anyone want the rest of my glass? She offers as she calls the barmaid over.

[Jurai]

Zircon reacts to Annanil's dislike with a look of bewildernment most un-Dwarven. "What? Are ye daft, lass? Nobo'y loiks Ironhold Stout on tha firs' sip! Have yerself ano'er, and it'll grow on ye!" He says.

[Mordae]

With Gruenab pulling the pints, Lexie scurries over to heed Annanil's wave. "Can I get you something, miss? Perhaps a bit of goat, or a loaf of brown bread?"

[Illven]

Can I get a drink of anything else? She asks.

[Jurai]

Zircon grumbles. "Aye, wha'e'er ye have ta offer for din'r wou'd be nice, ma'am."

[Torgarn]

Randor turns to the woman, If you have any fowl, I could use a bit of such thing.

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

Remi nodded. "Excellent suggestion, sir. I would like some bread and a potatoes to go with the fowl, then," he addressed the barmaid.

[Mordae]

Lexie is unflustered by the flurry of requests, being used to such banter in an easygoing tavern such as this. "An' it please you, I'm sure I'll find something a little lighter. We've got some cold chicken, and bread and cheese in plenty, and potato soup in a beer broth. Anything else?" Her pert blue eyes dart from patron to patron, but unless someone speaks up quickly, her feet are already shuffling slowly backwards, getting ready to accelerate her toward the kitchen.

[Jurai]

Zircon smiles. "Chicken and cheese with bread, and a bowl of that soup sounds right nice."

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

"Mmm," Remi nodded his ascent. "Sounds lovely."

He then raised his mug and rapped on the table. "Gentlemen, my fair lady, I would like to propose a toast! To a start of a good friendship, and to a crazy and wonderful adventure ahead!"

[Torgarn]

Randor drains his own mug, then the one offered by Annanil. Hear, hear. May our coffers flow with gold and our bellies be filled with the finest fare. We shall prosper for each others company I think. A great journey lies before us, I hope you will all be up for it!

[Jurai]

"Aye, may our journey be fruitful, our battles challenging, and our victories GLORIOUS!" Zircon shouts as he slams his ale back, and slams his tankard.

[Mordae]

Lexie hurries back with a laden tray and quickly serves out the meal. For Annanil, the barmaid has a wooden pint mug full of a tawny liquid that smells of honey and peaches. "Summer mead; I dare say it should fit your fancy," she says with a pert smile as she scoops up the empty tray to return to the bar.

While the merriment continues, fostered by the free-flowing dwarven brew, Master Maff remains in his booth, carefully checking and double-checking the figures in his book. At length, he blows on the last page to dry the ink, then closes the tome and tucks it carefully into a black leather satchel. He hoists himself down from the booth and, with a gruff nod to his new hires, proceeds up the stairs to the inn on the upper floor.

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

Having partaken his meal and his fair share of the liquor, Remi stood up with a smile stuck on his face.

"Ah, my ffriends, I could go on drinking with you until the morrow, but alas, I am affraid I have had my fill of the liquor. I would like to go on, but I certainly do not want to miss our caravvan. Tomorrow! We leave!" he spoke, his speech showing signs of the alcohol in his system.

"Miss," he raised his hand and called out to the barmaid, "do you have a vacancy?"

[Mordae]

"Naturally," Lexie replies after skittering over from her usual post in response to Remi's wave. "Just for you, or for all of your friends? It's five pieces of silver for a private room with two beds, or five copper pieces to bed down for yourself here in the common hall."

[Illven]

Annanil puts a gold piece into Lexie's hand.

Two private rooms please. She states.

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

Remi looked at Annanil, processed what she just did, before looking back at the barmaid.

"Yes, yess. Uhm, can we please have one extra bed in one of the rooms. The lady will be taking one room, aaand the three of us will just share the otherrr," he motioned to himself, Randor, and Zircon.

"Friends, I shall go on ahead. Miss, if you can please lead the way."

[Illven]

I'll share a room, I don't have a problem with it. Annanil replied exasperated drinking from her new glass.

[Torgarn]

I'll sleep wherever, if it causes a problem I can just sleep in the common room. I'd prefer not to alienate my new friends so easily. he says winking. I am used to sleeping in the dirt anyway.

[Illven]

The least problem would be bunking with me. Annanil replied. We'll all be sleeping closely anyway shortly.

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

"Nonsensse!" he cried out to both Annanil and Randor. "A lady needss to have her privacy, and there will be much for sssleeping all together and on the dirt starting tomorrow. Let the lady have her own room, and us men will have our bonding tonight," he continued, with a smile and conviction brought about by tipsiness.

[Torgarn]

Randor holds his hands up, surrendering. My lady, if you would not be offended, then I will take the empty bed. Better than the floor.

[Illven]

I would be offended if you refused. Annanil replied.

[Mordae]

Lexie watches the banter with some amusement. "I'll just be a moment to fetch the keys," she interjects with a subtle smile as she tucks the coin in her apron and scurries off to the oversized stairs, tackling them gamely with her skirts fluttering behind her. She returns clutching two intricately carved brass devices, each bigger than the palm of her hand and dangling from a loop of cut leather almost half an inch across. She
passes them to Annanil and adds, "Breakfast begins at the first crow of the rooster and runs through the second hour of dawn."

[Illven]

Annanil nods to Lexie, and pockets the keys.

So me and Randor in one room, Remi and Zircon in the other? She asks for clarification

[Jurai]

"Works fer me."

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

Remi put his hand forward at Annanil, asking for the key to their room. "Yess, that is fine. You lot can stay if you want, but I need to go on ahead."

[Illven]

Annanil nods.

Have a good sleep. She says with a smile handing the key to him.

[Mordae]

After enjoying their beverages courtesy Zircon's generosity, the party retires to the upstairs inn and enjoys one last night in a bed--albeit a giant-sized one--before rising the next morning to begin their new journey together as hirelings for the caravan of Master Maff. The hour is announced loudly by the innkeeper's rooster, the repeated crow of which is answered readily by the dogs of the neighborhood and soon followed by the daily din of water-gatherers, torchlighters, and merchant-carts signaling the nearing of market time. Above all, the smell of freshly baked bread wafts up the stairs from below, enticing hungry travelers to breakfast.

"Good morning, Master Maff!" Gruenab's giantish voice bellows, carrying readily through the building. The rest of the conversation, if any, is carried on in more civilized tones, overtaken by the general babble of the growing crowd in the taproom and in the street.

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

Having had a good amount alcohol the night before coupled with the plushest bed made Remi sleep as good as he had in a while. And when Remi had had a drink, usually that made him wake up a little earlier, as was the case then. Which was all good, since he had to prepare his wares and other more potent concoctions. By the time the crows broke the relative silence of the night, Remi was all prepared. When Gruenab's voice bellowed through the inn, that was his cue to go down. But not before waking Zircon up.

"Master dwarf! Come! Adventure awaits!"

[Jurai]

Zircon nodded, pulling his axes out and sprinkling a little bit of blessed Ironhold Stout. "Drink up, Grandfather Millander."

[Torgarn]

Randor stretches, hopping out of bed. He begins changing his clothes, from his nightclothes to his flamboyant blue adventuring gear. What a grand day to start an adventure.

[Mordae]

At length, Annanil joins the rest of the group, and find Lexie in the common room serving up heaping plates of thick-cut bacon, toasted black bread, and a ruddy concoction that looks like a combination of egg custard and coarse grits. Master Maff is nowhere to be seen, while the giant owner of the tavern can be heard whistling in the backyard as he chops wood. As the petite blonde barmaid fixes up portions for the newest arrivals, Gruenab comes stumping in with two vast bundles of wood clenched tightly within his massive arms. "Ho there, good morning!" he bellows cheerfully as he passes through the crowd of tables, the split logs dangling menacingly over his patrons' heads as he crosses to the fireplace.

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

"Good morning, sir" Remi greeted the giant. "Lovely beds you have here!"

"Also, perhaps have you seen Master Maff?" he asked, his voice failing to hid his excitement.

[Illven]

Annanil takes a seat next to Randor with a plate full of Bacon and the concoction and starts digging in messily.

He probably just.... Annanil started with a mouthful of food, then thought for a moment, chewed and swallowed.

He probably overslept. She reasoned.

[Mordae]

"Ah, he left quite early today; took no breakfast!" Gruenab booms in response before gingerly setting down the piles of split logs near the fireplace and nudging them into place with one booted foot. "You'll probably find him down at the waterfront, for it's where he goes every morning. Took little Billam with him for a page boy, he did."

Lexie nods knowingly. "That, or he's with the caravaners' tent village out on the east side of town. He goes there some days to check on the pack animals, and always asks for his clothes to be freshly laundered when he returns."

Sorry about tardy, guys. The finger is bothering me more than I would have expected.

[Jurai]

Zircon ate. "Aye, a sensible man makes cer'in 'is travel method be in good shape."

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

"Then we best take ours quickly."

"Did he mention what time we were leaving, by the way?" the question directed at anyone listening.

[Mordae]

Lexie comes over to collect empty dishes and check on drinks. "I don't know when he would want you to be leaving, but as for Master Maff, he is checked in through the fifteenth." She offers a pert smile. "I take it you are heading out with his caravan? How exciting! I've always wanted to see the world, but... well, even with Master Gruenab paying as well as he does, it's not the sort of thing a common serving girl can afford."

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

"Wait," Remi stopped himself before laughing. "I actually thought we were departing today. I must be hung over. Ha ha ha!"

"Right then, what shall we do for today?" he asked his companions.

[Mordae]

The group quickly comes up with a half-dozen errands to do, all of them leading toward a visit to the dock to see the ship they'll be tasked with guarding along its way to the south. There are supplies to be gathered, weapons to be sharpened, armor to be oiled, prayers to be offered to the gods, tabs to be settled, and a quick lunch before walking down the cobblestoned streets to the riverside quay that is a major trade hub in the central Flaeness.

The wharfs are crowded with seafarers, traders, longshoremen, and hundreds of visitors. Zircon's burly form proves an effective battering ram to part the sea of people, but the taller humans have to keep him pointed in the direction of Wharf Number 6, where the Silver Dawn bobs gently in the slow current of the wide river. It's a long, wide vessel, sitting low in the water and possessed of only a single triangle-rigged mast; the oar slits on the deck level further suggest the ship is propelled by strength of arms. The gangplank is unusually wide, big enough to drive a cart up onto the ship without having to resort to ropes and pulleys to bring cargo across. The deck is surprisingly empty, with only a couple of crewmen working to smooth out the wooden surface with the use of holystones and a bucket of fresh water.

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

As soon as the group reaches the ship, Remi could not help but run up the gangplank and across the deck to the railing on the other side. He closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath from the sea breeze hitting his face. Opening them, he smiled and turned.

"Come on up!" he called out to his companions. "This is going to be great!"

He then looked around for their employer, and noticing he was not anywhere he could see, approached one of the crewmen working the deck floor.

"Excuse me, sir. Is Master Maff here already?"

[Illven]

Annanil chuckles and runs after Remi.

Let the rest of the group keep up. She jokingly chided to Remi, doing her best to hide a smirk.

[Mordae]

The crewman accosted by Remi looks up at the well-dressed man and quirks a shaggy eyebrow over his thick, curly beard. "Eh? He went to the outskirts to supervise the animal train's procession. They should be arriving for loading within the hour. You passengers or crew?"

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

"Ahh. I see. And we are crew. I think. Well, we were hired by Master Maff as escort," Remi smiled at the man before turning to his companions. "We were a bit to early I suppose," he grinned. "Shall we have a look around first, then?"

Turning back towards the crewman, he inquired. "Would it be possible to have a look around while we wait?"

[Mordae]

"Go right ahead, mate. That ramp up there forward will take you down to the hold. First deck is where we keep the animals; second deck is for people; third deck is for cargo. Bilge is beneath that, in case you want wet and stinky. Staterooms for the captain and caravan masters are back aft, down the companionway by the tiller. It's off limits unless you've been invited. Mind the lines on the mast, and for godssake don't go climbing up on the spars. I'm Barl, by the way." He offers a grimy hand toward Remi.

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

Remi took the hand and shook it rather vigorously, his eagerness for the trip clearly showing.

"Remi. Kremi Krevel at your service, Mister Barl," he said with a grin. Turning back to the others, he continued. "So, shall we? Let us have a look at our quarters."

[Jurai]

"Aye, I mus' agree wit' my compatriot, Master Barl." Zircon said.

[Mordae]

The sailor goes back to his work, while Remi, Zircon, and the others head over to the wide ramp leading down into the barge's cavernous interior. The pungent smell of animal dung wafts upwards from the shadowy darkness. The ramp itself has been studded with thin wooden slats every foot or so, providing a bit of extra grip for animals, carts, and people moving up and down, though at the moment there's no particular need for the help.

The animal deck is low-beamed, barely big enough for a horse to fit under the cross-supports even with its head drooped low. For most humans and certainly all dwarves, though, it's pretty spacious. There are empty animal pens along the outboard sides and centerline, running from the stern all the way forward to one of the few fixed wooden bulkheads in the vessel. On the back side of the ramp, there's a much more slanted companionway that dives down to the decks below.

The berthing deck is filled with much smaller "pens" for its herd of humans. The walls are lined with fixed, coffin-like bunks, six feet long, two feet deep, and two feet high. Those bunks have thin straw mattresses and woolen blankets. The remainder of the deck is relatively spacious, but the dozens of hammocks tucked into the overheads suggest that when the crew is resting, there is almost nowhere to walk without ducking and weaving through a maze of sailors sleeping suspended by rope netting. There is almost no light to be had, as the sunlight from two decks above does not penetrate, there are no windows, and a trio of oil lamps are the only illumination. The smell of human sweat is strong enough to replace the more fragrant manure aroma from above.

[Illven]

Annanil takes a tour of the ship.

How do people handle ship life? She mutters to herself.

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

"That is one question we landlubbers would never know the answer to, I'm afraid," Remi replied, stressing out landlubbers with his best imitation of how a pirate would say it. He looked back at the web of hammocks and down to their probable quarters, trying to get his mind off the myriad smells assaulting his sensitive nose. Had he not accustomed himself to such pungent odors, he would have had serious problem. But maybe he could make something out of them, he thought. For his more, unsavory products.

"Quite lovely accomodations, don't you think?" he asked grinning, not with a little sarcasm in his voice. "All right then, I think we have seen everything here. Captain's quarters?"

[Mordae]

"You mean the part that's by invitation only?" Randor replies with a faint smile. "Maybe we should secure an invitation first."

From somewhere up above, there is a tramping and creaking sound, and the ship takes on a barely perceptible list toward the direction of the wharf. It seems to go on for some time, and after a few moments is accompanied by the lowing and neighing of burdened animals.

[GuyFawkes]

Remi Krevel

"Well, yes. We invite ourselves?" Remi asked with a sheepish grin before laughing.

"Ah, it seems the animals arrive. Maybe Master Maff is with them. Come, let's go back up!" he said and lead the group back.

[Illven]

Annanil chuckles at Remi's initial comment.

At his suggestion however she perks up

Yeah, that seems like a good idea. She states starting to move.