Road to Braïva

[Eradis]

Player
Character
PP
AC
HP
Condition


GM_3826
Bran Riverwood (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1749493)
14
18(10)
13/13





Previous months were tense all across the region of Alteus. Nobles, knights and peasants alike only had the word war to their lips. Border counties were apparently raided on a regular basis by southern barbarians. The attacks were described as ruthless, chaotic and particularly nasty. Even people living far up north trembled at the mere mention of the Braïvian brutes.

War was never portraited as lovely or funny. War is harsh and messy. This one was different, but no one could describe with certainly why. Most of the population never laid eyes on the result of this particular conflict, but all were concerned. For several weeks now, the king’s envoys travelled every corner of the region to conscript the young able men to the cause.

Bran Riverwood was one of them. Leaving his role as a farmhand cultivating wheat, he left behind people he liked and Annie, a special halfling friend he would miss dearly. Trading a quiet life for one of adventure across the country was no simple task. At his age the farthest place Bran had gone was the closest city to help carrying the crops to the marketplace.


***

Surrounded by an increasing band of strangers, young Bran found himself quite lost in this long caravan. People were walking widely along the road to Guerevna, where their training awaited. Most were peasants of different trade, but here and there were actual soldiers. These armed militaries were obviously there to prevent runaways. How they were placed and especially their number made the civilians sure of than.

Two hours after leaving his home, a short guy with red hair came toward Bran. The man was poorly dressed, he had holes in his shoes and his hands were roughed up by a life of manual labor.

“I can’t believe we have to fight a war that does not even concern us. I was just about to propose to the florist’s daughter…” the stranger whispered to him with energy.

[GM_3826]

Before this man approached him, Bran was quiet. No one was particularly happy about this, but Bran in particular seemed out of place in such a large crowd. He was not comfortable being there with so many people. The circumstances just made it worse. When the redheaded man in rags spoke up, Bran seemed to have worked up the courage to speak himself, if only to get his troubles off his mind.

"...I'm not too happy about it either." Bran whispered. "I too have someone I love back home, but unfortunately I might not ever see them again. I wasn't even planning on proposing any time soon... So I have my own regrets. I just wish I had the chance to say goodbye..."

He pulled out the token his family gave him before he left; a pocket watch with the name of his family, Riverwood, etched onto the back.

"She was a halfling. Halflings say that home is where the heart is, but I can't bring myself to believe that right now... This watch is all that is left." He sighed. "I'm sure they would be more comfortable in this caravan than I am, but at least they don't have to go to war."

[Eradis]

Player
Character
PP
AC
HP
Condition


GM_3826
Bran Riverwood (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1749493)
14
18(10)
13/13




The redhead stare silently into the distance for a few seconds before snapping out of it after Bran's testimony. He then nodded four times with decreasing intensity. The position of the sun indicated they were closer to the night now than the morning. Still the caress of the summer sun was comforting despite the heat.

"I feel you." the man finally responded. "Oh, by the by... I'm Fergus Jach" stretching an open hand he went on. "I still don't know why they thought a glassblower could do in this nightmare, but here I am. What's your deal?"

The words themselves were not a problem, but this Fergus had an awkwardness surrounding him. To the farmer, he did not appear as malicious or mean intended, simply weird and friendly. It was hard to put the finger exactly on the reason he made such an impression.

[GM_3826]

"...My name is Bran. Bran Riverwood. I was a farmer." The words "was" escaped his lips, but he still did not quite believe them. How could he have "once been" a farmer? He's been a farmer his entire life; why would that change?

He sort of stared blankly at Fergus. Every now and then he'd reach into his pocket and fiddle with his watch. He had the feeling he would be doing that a lot. Do I look as weird as he does? Bran thought. It was hard to say.

[Eradis]

Player
Character
PP
AC
HP
Condition


GM_3826
Bran Riverwood (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1749493)
14
18(10)
13/13




Fergus did not seem to linger at the tense used by Bran. He plainly went on with small chat a couple of minutes here, and a couple more there. At time his chatter came as distraction while at other it felt just a bit too much. The situation kept going on for hours. The sun was now set, and the word in the crowd was that they were closing by the camp.

As the caravan stopped to light torches, a commotion happened way at the back of the line. There were too many obstacles obstructing the sight and too much loud questions about what was going on to be able to actually hear it. From the distance, Bran could hear aggressive shouting, people going toward whatever was happening, making it even more difficult for anyone to see in this growing darkness. A few guards ran forcing a way to the source of the event and when they did, the young farmer noticed they slowed their speed to talk with the already present guards. About four minutes after it started, it ended. People were splitting up, and the guards were coming back to their posts walking.

The redhead beside Bran couldn't kept himself from asking plenty of unanswerable question while the whole thing was going on. Even when things seemed to settle he couldn't resist.

"Do you believe we were just attack? What if it was those barbarians we are going to war with? Or maybe..." the boy did not look like he would stop anytime soon with questions that could only be answered by a spectator of the scene.

[GM_3826]

Bran wasn't really asking questions. He just sort of stood there in shock, silent, leaving Fergus' questions unanswered. The panic attack continued for a while. This was not really the best environment for him to be in, but then again, what was he supposed to do? He shut down. Perhaps at some point he'd start back up again, but when?

[Eradis]

Player
Character
PP
AC
HP
Condition


GM_3826
Bran Riverwood (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1749493)
14
18(10)
13/13




The last part of the march felt like an eternity in darkness, even if is only lasted a couple of hours at most. The training camp was in sight and was illuminated by a perimeter of torches around what felt like a village made out of tents. A few structures were made of woods and stones. Nothing fancy, but lack of solid building made them look more official and important as they would have in an actual village. Cut stomps were just about everywhere, showing this parcel of land was initially part of the nearby woods.

The leaders of the march gathered peasants and soldiers alike around a stage of fortune made of unaltered logs before giving out his speech.

"Welcome to your home for the next few weeks or months. The length of your stay here will depend on how you do. Show no promise and you will be sent with haste to the front lines as meat shields. Show strength and finesse and we will keep you here until you wish you actually leave for battle" started an average height man wearing a well kept chainmail armor and a bandana as blue as the Atleusan flag to cover the top of his mid-long hair. "You might thing this journey was exhausting, but I'm afraid the day isn't over yet. You will find everything you need to erect a long house. Twelve people will share a tent, so you will need to build more than one. Stay in the perimeter and you will be fine. Training will start in the morning. Good night."

The unnamed man casually stepped off the stage and went towards some guards already in place. A few orders later, the escorting soldiers were replaced by other sentinels freshly rested from the site. Shortly after, Fergus Jach shout out to Bran Riverwood.

"Bran! Hey Bran! Over here!" as he walked to his march buddy. "Better join us for our tent so we will be together. I've met with Aston and Fredrick Bergson. Would you believe they are real huntsmen?" Fergus asked rhetorically. "They are great guys! Come, I'll present you."

[GM_3826]

Once Bran arrived at the camp, he cringed at the 'meat shield' comment. He had the vaguest feeling that that would be his fate. After that, he was not really sure what to do. Yes, he told him to erect a tent with 12 other people, but he knew no one here, and he was not exactly looking to make friends. So when Fergus Jach walked up to him and offered that he join his group...

"Alright." Bran said quietly. It's better than standing around and doing nothing.

[Eradis]

Player
Character
PP
AC
HP
Condition


GM_3826
Bran Riverwood (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1749493)
14
18(10)
13/13




As the number of people used to building such tent were low, the star filled sky went from its darkest state to a brighter one. The sun was not up yet, but by the look of it, no one would have a good night's sleep. The chattiest ones like Fergus ended up keeping their mouth shut to keep the work going and avoid irritated comments sent by those wanting a brief break from this nightmare. Fergus himself decided to keep to himself before unsavory comments flew simply because he understood the need to rest. This is mostly why the presentation of the brothers Bergson were short. They knew what they were doing and their tent was the first mounted.

Bran had a hard night sleep. What people were referring to as a night actually felt like the worst nap he had in his live. Anxiety was heavy on the site. Even in his tent at least two people cried themselves to sleep.

Morning came quickly and it was by the sound of pots and pans knocking together that the young farmer woke up. Groans were coming from just about every recruit tents. One by one, they realized the camp was already fully active. Cooks were finishing up meals, soldiers were already guarding the perimeter and instructors were yelling at their recruits to get off their lazy bottoms. The one that came into Bran's tent was short. He was way shorter than any man he met. He had stronger features, more sturdy. Vaguely this character reminded him of his halfling friend, mostly how he did not fit with the rest. The man was taller than Annie by at least one head nonetheless.

"Wake up you lazy bones! Time for games is over and time with ale... Well, make sure I have time for my ale tonight or you will like me even less! Name's Grub Waraxe, but you will call me either instructor, master or Sir Waraxe." Even when talking loudly without shouting, the bearded man sounded severe and authoritarian. "Close to the center of the camp you'll find the cooks. Take your gruel, drink cold water and join me here after. You have the time if you hurry. Otherwise it will be your first of three mistakes that will qualify you as unfit of being a soldier, thus be sent early into battle."

Time to roll a DC15 constitution saving throw to avoid gaining a level of exhaustion from the long march and a DC20 constitution saving throw to avoid getting one from the restless night.

[GM_3826]

Bran gets up, but he's not doing so hot. He seems exhausted-there is circles around his eyes and his eyelids are drooping. "Yes, Sir Waraxe," he says absentmindedly. He goes to get his breakfast for the day, slogging along. He wasn't averse to hard work, and the food wasn't much worse than he had eaten when he lived on a farm, but the march only tires him more.

...I don't know why I'm doing so poorly, he thought. Maybe after a get some rest I will feel better... but I get the feeling I won't get a good night's sleep for a long time.

[Eradis]

Player
Character
PP
AC
HP
Condition


GM_3826
Bran Riverwood (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1749493)
14
18(10)
13/13
Two levels of exhaustion



Once the breakfast hit like rocks at the bottom of the stomach, the training began. Training was not the proper word to describe the day. The small, yet robust Waraxe put the dozen under his care to a series of tests, evaluating athleticism, prowess with the bows and crossbows, hand to hand melee combat as well as sword fighting skills. All this served to judge the composure of each character in the band. Once the sun was at its highest, the commander sounded a bell and explained it meant time for a short break. It did not take long for this sound to be considered a bliss among the recruits. Especially those who were crying of despair and calling out their mothers. Fortunately for the protagonist's group, no such case was part of it.

Exhausted, most of the men were complaining heavily during lunch time, including the communion man, Fergus Jach. Although his speech was much more lighthearted than a real complaint.

"Phew! I don't know how much more I'm gonna be able to take before I die from exhaustion. Don't know 'bout you guys, but seeing you all doing so well, I'm sure glad I'm on your sides." The redhead continued to compliment in one way or another the group effort as well as praising the Bergsons that remained the top dogs of the group. "You too were something farm boy. I was surprise at how you knocked me on me arse with you eyes still stuck together." With that came an infectious laughter around the table.

Bran did make a great impression with the wooden sword. He did good with the rest too, better than most, but the exhaustion was clearly affecting him. It was affecting just about everyone. The Bergsons were the exception to this fact. They looked tired, but nothing more.

I used your character sheet to write the narrative for this part. You character has two level of exhaustion yes, but so do just about everyone else too. Once we are done with the "break", we will start a more active and interesting part of the training.

[GM_3826]

...Hmm. Bran thought.

I thought for sure I was the only one that exhausted... I guess I was wrong. He smiled somewhat unsteadily. Didn't think I was going to do this hot... But being so good at this... makes me nervous. I suppose I'll get used to it.

"...All of you did great out there, considering the circumstances. No reason to praise me in particular." He said.

[Eradis]

Player
Character
PP
AC
HP
Condition


GM_3826
Bran Riverwood (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1749493)
14
18(10)
13/13
Two levels of exhaustion



"And all the good ones are modest. Let us hate you guys a little at least!" added the laughing redhead before the subject changed and the break resumed.

As the meal was over for most their unforgivable trainer came out of nowhere startling some of the men when he opened his mouth.

"Alright ladies, time for chitchat is of the past. Meet me at our spot as soon as your plates are clean. We will be deciding who will lead your group for the next week."

His rough and deep voice paired with the mere fact of adding someone responsibilities to an already stressful situation was enough to give goosebumps. It was hard to imagine anyone volunteering for such role if there was no possible gain. War was after all unavoidable.

Once the cleanup was done and the group gathered the area in which they trained all morning was different. Laying on the ground were armors made of chains and thick leather, bows, crossbows and munition alike, shields and of course swords. The latter, blunt as they were, were clearly more dangerous and seemed lethal compared to their wooden counterpart used during the morning.

"I don't like this..." said nervously Tolbran, the smallest of the group and so far judged the weakest.

"In this division of the military, leaders do it from the front like men! Now... You will choose wisely the kind of armor you will don and the weapon you will wield. Keep in mind to avoid the faces when using the ranged weapons. Bolts and arrows have blunted tips, but they are no kid slings." the bearded man emphasized the word "wisely" as he spoke. "You will form teams, just like war, they don't need to be fair and equal. Those teams will need a leader and the teams will compete. Losers will be punished and winners will have pillows to rest their head to replace the straws."