Seeing Kharfen isn't coming with them, Finn becomes a bit irritated, having hoped the dwarf would accompany them on their travels
"Really? He's not coming with us. So it's just going to be me with these complete strangers? Well, I guess he does have a store to run, and I trust that he's picked well. Hopefully we'll be able to fare by ourselves"
Finn takes a look at Bunsen and Beaker and contemplates driving the wagon, but upon further though figures one of his companions would probably be much better at directing the wagon. He puts on his quiver, straps his bow to his pack, and gets ready to travel. As they begin to travel, he walks alongside the wagon, staying close to the left side of the wagon at all times and keeping a close eye on his surroundings.
"I'm not really an animal person..." Zaiden says with a smile while holding his hand up in surrender, definitely refusing the reins.
Zaiden will happily walk along side the wagon, occasionally hopping up to sit on the tailgate for short stretches. Except for, perhaps, the occasional calls of nature, Zaiden will stay within five or ten feet of the wagon. There is really no need to be wandering off. Even if he plays a little on his flute, there's no need to not stay in step.
He will try to keep his head on a swivel and watch the sides and back. They were hired to protect this wagon, there must be some threat to it...
Perception: 18
"Nobody gives 50 gold per person if they're next expecting some shenanigans," he'll note.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
Tristan gives Bunsen and Beaker a friendly pat on the side, giving them quiet compliments. She hops onto the driver's seat of the wagon if no one objects, and places her pack on the bench next to her. "Thankfully for you, I am." She says to Zaiden with a wink.
Animal Handling: 9
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The ever growing document of character concepts can never be too long, can it?
Sig follows the group, walking last, watching everyone talk between themselves as they all get near the wagon. Taking a few minutes to don his armor and ready his weapons on his belt, he puts his bag on the wagon and looks at Tristan, smiling a little bit.
"If you don't mind, I'll take shifts with you, I used to do it all the time back in my hometown". He caresses the oxen's manes and whispers in their ears, giggling as if he could truly have a conversation with them. "Plus, I'd take me no time to jump down and protect the animals in case anyhting happens, I'll try to be on the lookout, just in case."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Emrin joins the others in the alley and looks up at the oxen dubiously "I think I'll take a seat on the tailgate" he says, moving around to the back of the wagon and muttering under his breath about "Big dumb animals not watching their feet" He rests his hammer and shield nearby and sits with his crossbow at the ready in his lap, watching out the rear for signs of persuit.
"Sure, I'll let you know when we can swap." Tristan nods to Sig. "Once we're out of the city for a bit. We can trade places and what have you. If I somehow end up going the wrong way, let me know."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
The ever growing document of character concepts can never be too long, can it?
The boy nods and climbs up, sitting next to Tristan and smiling a little bit. "It's the south road for almost half a day, so you can't get lost, but I'll let you know anyway." He looks around, as the rest of the party gets ready on or along the wagon, with a little bit of pride of being part of this group.
"Mr. Bigtoe, sir, are you alright back there?" He says to the dwarf, trying to get some kind of conversation flowing.
You travel south on the High Road, a well-travelled road patrolled by a militia from Neverwinter. A few times, the oxen stop obeying Tristan's direction, but Sig steps in to keep the caravan moving. Together, you manage to keep a reasonable pace.
In the early afternoon, a human and half-elf on horseback wearing chain mail and carrying swords and crossbows approach from the south. You recognize them as the High Road patrol. They nod as they approach, and the half-elf calls out, "Well met, travelers. Blue skies and smooth road await you." They do not stop to talk and continue north at a brisk pace as though trying to get to the city before nightfall.
Later, as the road bends towards the coast and the sun lowers in the sky, you have a legitimately serene moment. Without the city buildings and noise, the orange sky and calm seas are a picturesque sight.
Feel free to finish any traveling conversations as you will.
Is there anything you want to do during your first night at camp?
Sig tries to keep the conversation going between Emrin and Tristan, asking about their lives, their homes and what they expect to achieve in the future.
As the night falls, he's going to take the first shift, and use the time to take care of the animals, checking on them as seeing them fed. Trying to stay alert of his surroundings, he keeps his sword with him and next to his hand.
Emrin has a pleasant day chatting to his new companions and watching the countryside roll past. As night falls he helps set up the camp before moving a short distance away to perform a brief evening ritual to Tempus. The ritual is a simple affair, kneeling in the grass before a stick of lit incense, meditating, and muttering a prayer under his breath.
He returns to sit by the fire, appearing calm and content, with perhaps the faintest hint of old pain or grief in his eyes.
Finn sleeps uneasily at first, trying to get some rest for the day ahead. The tranquil scenery and uneventfulness of the day's travel made him feel slightly more at ease than he was before beginning their journey, but he's still not completely relaxed. About halfway through the night, he wakes up, still feeling groggy but knowing he's not going to be able to relax enough to sleep any longer. As he gets ready for the day, he straps his bow and quiver to his back and picks up his rapier, his daggers having remained sheathed at his sides through the night
When he reaches the center of the camp, he sees Sig caring for the oxen and keeping watch. Turning to him, he speaks quietly, making sure not to wake the others or attract any unneeded attention
"I can take over the watch for the rest of the night. Doubt I'm going to be able to sleep much more anyway, so you may as well get some rest in before we get going"
He then sits down on a rock near the oxen, takes his bow off of his back, and keeps an eye on the camp and the woods surrounding them for any signs of danger
Zaiden talks, perhaps too much, along the journey but also doesn’t say much. His conversation is near constant but is mostly surface conversation - nothing to pressing, personal or controversial. About himself he just admits to having a fondness for the arts - song and stories mostly, though he does do some sketching. Combined with a natural wanderlust he’s often found moving town to town, playing and performing in various taverns and inns.
“I tend to make enough coin, but an honest job here and there never hurts, eh?”
He’ll play several tunes on the flute during conversational lulls, sticking mostly to softer, slower tunes. Background music. When he does jump up on the wagon to rest his feet he’ll use the wood he sits upon to beat out a drumbeat and perhaps sing a bit more lively a song or perhaps a slightly rowdy ballad.
Zaiden does ask the others about their lives and what brings them to this particular job, but he doesn’t push or pry, just letting them share or not as they wish. As night falls he finds he quite bushed and ready to sleep, though he does tell the others to awaken him for a turn at watch later in the night.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
The High Road patrol was right. Your first day and night were uneventful--blue skies and smooth road.
The second day passes much like the first. Though some gray clouds were seen in the distance, they quickly dissipate. You do not see any other travelers on your second day, and any momentary causes of alarm due to moving foliage or cracking branches proved to be harmless wild animals foraging.
Towards the end of your second day of travel, you come to a less-travelled but still clear trail leading east off of the High Road. This is the Triboar Trail that links the larger civilized cities of the coast with inland trading towns, including Triboar. You follow the directions Kharfen had given you and Sig knows and head east on the Triboar for another hour before deciding to set up camp. Feel free to role play any night activities as you wish.
On the morning of the third day, you notice it is a bit cooler than the others. The cool breeze feels nice, however, for how much walking you've done over the last two days. You head east on the Triboar Trail for half of the day before you see something ahead of you on the road. As you come around a bend, you spot two dead horses sprawled about fifty feet ahead of you, blocking the path. Each has several black-feathered arrows sticking out of it. The woods press close to the trail here, with a steep embankment and dense thickets on either side.
Tristan pulls the oxen to a stop as the five of you take stock, still fifty feet west of the dead horses. What do you do?
During their travels, Tristan chimes into the conversation. She never says anything specific about her personal life, but lets slip she has several siblings. The finer clothes, along with her good posture and some of the general stories she does share, it wouldn't be a stretch to believe that she came from money, at least at some point. Whenever Sig helps get the oxen to move again, she gives him an appreciative smile and says she owes him.
As they days go on, she and Sig split time driving the cart, so she can stretch her legs. Travelling along he Triboar Trail seems to peak her interest more. Tristan seems to enjoy going through the woods, occasionally pointing out an animal that crosses the trail or she spots in the trees. The dead horses on the road cause her to furrow her brow, as she pulls on the oxen's reins. She holds a hand out to anyone walking, signaling them to stop.
"Careful."She says, as she tries to look around at the thickets, trying to spot any signs of other living beings around. A hand goes to her war pick, as she looks ready to hop off the cart. "I'll bet five silver whatever did this is still near."
Zaiden would note Tristan likely came from the upper crust early on in their dealings, he had been around it enough himself growing up. He made no mention of it, people are allowed their own histories as far as Zaiden is concerned. The others he was still trying to get a bead on but it would come eventually...
Later, on the Tribal Road...
"It's a bet," Zaiden instinctively says.
Zaiden cautiously approaches the dead horses while also keeping an eye on the foliage around, cautious for any enemies creeping out of it. He's also trying to determine if the horses are still actively bleeding or if there are flies gathered and buzzing around the beasts, trying to determine how long since this happened.
Perception: 13 (one less if you want investigation instead...)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
Finn comes to a halt as Tristan points out the dead horses. His instincts kick in, and he immediately takes his daggers out of their sheaths, ready to defend himself if whatever attacked these horses is still around. He walks up towards Zaiden, calling out to the rest of the group
"Watch my back. Tristan's almost certainly right. Whoever killed these horses could still be nearby. I can try and figure out what happened to them if you watch out for any danger"
He then walks up to the horses, examining the arrows and the horses themselves to see if he can determine if they died recently, who they might have belonged to, or anything else he can find about what happened here. He keeps his daggers at the ready in case any danger strikes as he tries to determine what he can figure out from the horse's bodies
Sig jumps of the wagon, sword still on his sheath but ready to be pulled out in a second. When the oxen come to a full stop, he is already carefully walking towards the horses, checking around the area for any sounds or movement behind the trees. He looks back to the rest of the group, checking their exact positions and looks at Tristan, sharing her idea that maybe whoever did this is still around, he tries to be as silent as possible as he moves forward.
Signaling the rest of the group his intentions to scout a bit ahead, he keeps walking towards the dead horses.
"Hmmm black feathers... have I seen these somewhere? Could they be orc made?"He wonders, trying to get a closer look, trying to watch both sides of the forest at the same time.
Seeing Kharfen isn't coming with them, Finn becomes a bit irritated, having hoped the dwarf would accompany them on their travels
"Really? He's not coming with us. So it's just going to be me with these complete strangers? Well, I guess he does have a store to run, and I trust that he's picked well. Hopefully we'll be able to fare by ourselves"
Finn takes a look at Bunsen and Beaker and contemplates driving the wagon, but upon further though figures one of his companions would probably be much better at directing the wagon. He puts on his quiver, straps his bow to his pack, and gets ready to travel. As they begin to travel, he walks alongside the wagon, staying close to the left side of the wagon at all times and keeping a close eye on his surroundings.
Perception: 9
"I'm not really an animal person..." Zaiden says with a smile while holding his hand up in surrender, definitely refusing the reins.
Zaiden will happily walk along side the wagon, occasionally hopping up to sit on the tailgate for short stretches. Except for, perhaps, the occasional calls of nature, Zaiden will stay within five or ten feet of the wagon. There is really no need to be wandering off. Even if he plays a little on his flute, there's no need to not stay in step.
He will try to keep his head on a swivel and watch the sides and back. They were hired to protect this wagon, there must be some threat to it...
Perception: 18
"Nobody gives 50 gold per person if they're next expecting some shenanigans," he'll note.
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
-- Eleanor Shellstrop
Tristan gives Bunsen and Beaker a friendly pat on the side, giving them quiet compliments. She hops onto the driver's seat of the wagon if no one objects, and places her pack on the bench next to her. "Thankfully for you, I am." She says to Zaiden with a wink.
Animal Handling: 9
The ever growing document of character concepts can never be too long, can it?
Sig follows the group, walking last, watching everyone talk between themselves as they all get near the wagon. Taking a few minutes to don his armor and ready his weapons on his belt, he puts his bag on the wagon and looks at Tristan, smiling a little bit.
"If you don't mind, I'll take shifts with you, I used to do it all the time back in my hometown". He caresses the oxen's manes and whispers in their ears, giggling as if he could truly have a conversation with them. "Plus, I'd take me no time to jump down and protect the animals in case anyhting happens, I'll try to be on the lookout, just in case."
Animal Handling: 13
Perception: 9
Emrin joins the others in the alley and looks up at the oxen dubiously "I think I'll take a seat on the tailgate" he says, moving around to the back of the wagon and muttering under his breath about "Big dumb animals not watching their feet" He rests his hammer and shield nearby and sits with his crossbow at the ready in his lap, watching out the rear for signs of persuit.
Perception: 11
"Sure, I'll let you know when we can swap." Tristan nods to Sig. "Once we're out of the city for a bit. We can trade places and what have you. If I somehow end up going the wrong way, let me know."
The ever growing document of character concepts can never be too long, can it?
The boy nods and climbs up, sitting next to Tristan and smiling a little bit. "It's the south road for almost half a day, so you can't get lost, but I'll let you know anyway." He looks around, as the rest of the party gets ready on or along the wagon, with a little bit of pride of being part of this group.
"Mr. Bigtoe, sir, are you alright back there?" He says to the dwarf, trying to get some kind of conversation flowing.
You travel south on the High Road, a well-travelled road patrolled by a militia from Neverwinter. A few times, the oxen stop obeying Tristan's direction, but Sig steps in to keep the caravan moving. Together, you manage to keep a reasonable pace.
In the early afternoon, a human and half-elf on horseback wearing chain mail and carrying swords and crossbows approach from the south. You recognize them as the High Road patrol. They nod as they approach, and the half-elf calls out, "Well met, travelers. Blue skies and smooth road await you." They do not stop to talk and continue north at a brisk pace as though trying to get to the city before nightfall.
Later, as the road bends towards the coast and the sun lowers in the sky, you have a legitimately serene moment. Without the city buildings and noise, the orange sky and calm seas are a picturesque sight.
Feel free to finish any traveling conversations as you will.
Is there anything you want to do during your first night at camp?
Sig tries to keep the conversation going between Emrin and Tristan, asking about their lives, their homes and what they expect to achieve in the future.
As the night falls, he's going to take the first shift, and use the time to take care of the animals, checking on them as seeing them fed. Trying to stay alert of his surroundings, he keeps his sword with him and next to his hand.
Emrin has a pleasant day chatting to his new companions and watching the countryside roll past. As night falls he helps set up the camp before moving a short distance away to perform a brief evening ritual to Tempus. The ritual is a simple affair, kneeling in the grass before a stick of lit incense, meditating, and muttering a prayer under his breath.
He returns to sit by the fire, appearing calm and content, with perhaps the faintest hint of old pain or grief in his eyes.
Finn sleeps uneasily at first, trying to get some rest for the day ahead. The tranquil scenery and uneventfulness of the day's travel made him feel slightly more at ease than he was before beginning their journey, but he's still not completely relaxed. About halfway through the night, he wakes up, still feeling groggy but knowing he's not going to be able to relax enough to sleep any longer. As he gets ready for the day, he straps his bow and quiver to his back and picks up his rapier, his daggers having remained sheathed at his sides through the night
When he reaches the center of the camp, he sees Sig caring for the oxen and keeping watch. Turning to him, he speaks quietly, making sure not to wake the others or attract any unneeded attention
"I can take over the watch for the rest of the night. Doubt I'm going to be able to sleep much more anyway, so you may as well get some rest in before we get going"
He then sits down on a rock near the oxen, takes his bow off of his back, and keeps an eye on the camp and the woods surrounding them for any signs of danger
Zaiden talks, perhaps too much, along the journey but also doesn’t say much. His conversation is near constant but is mostly surface conversation - nothing to pressing, personal or controversial. About himself he just admits to having a fondness for the arts - song and stories mostly, though he does do some sketching. Combined with a natural wanderlust he’s often found moving town to town, playing and performing in various taverns and inns.
“I tend to make enough coin, but an honest job here and there never hurts, eh?”
He’ll play several tunes on the flute during conversational lulls, sticking mostly to softer, slower tunes. Background music. When he does jump up on the wagon to rest his feet he’ll use the wood he sits upon to beat out a drumbeat and perhaps sing a bit more lively a song or perhaps a slightly rowdy ballad.
Zaiden does ask the others about their lives and what brings them to this particular job, but he doesn’t push or pry, just letting them share or not as they wish. As night falls he finds he quite bushed and ready to sleep, though he does tell the others to awaken him for a turn at watch later in the night.
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
-- Eleanor Shellstrop
The High Road patrol was right. Your first day and night were uneventful--blue skies and smooth road.
The second day passes much like the first. Though some gray clouds were seen in the distance, they quickly dissipate. You do not see any other travelers on your second day, and any momentary causes of alarm due to moving foliage or cracking branches proved to be harmless wild animals foraging.
Towards the end of your second day of travel, you come to a less-travelled but still clear trail leading east off of the High Road. This is the Triboar Trail that links the larger civilized cities of the coast with inland trading towns, including Triboar. You follow the directions Kharfen had given you and Sig knows and head east on the Triboar for another hour before deciding to set up camp. Feel free to role play any night activities as you wish.
On the morning of the third day, you notice it is a bit cooler than the others. The cool breeze feels nice, however, for how much walking you've done over the last two days. You head east on the Triboar Trail for half of the day before you see something ahead of you on the road. As you come around a bend, you spot two dead horses sprawled about fifty feet ahead of you, blocking the path. Each has several black-feathered arrows sticking out of it. The woods press close to the trail here, with a steep embankment and dense thickets on either side.
Tristan pulls the oxen to a stop as the five of you take stock, still fifty feet west of the dead horses. What do you do?
During their travels, Tristan chimes into the conversation. She never says anything specific about her personal life, but lets slip she has several siblings. The finer clothes, along with her good posture and some of the general stories she does share, it wouldn't be a stretch to believe that she came from money, at least at some point. Whenever Sig helps get the oxen to move again, she gives him an appreciative smile and says she owes him.
As they days go on, she and Sig split time driving the cart, so she can stretch her legs. Travelling along he Triboar Trail seems to peak her interest more. Tristan seems to enjoy going through the woods, occasionally pointing out an animal that crosses the trail or she spots in the trees. The dead horses on the road cause her to furrow her brow, as she pulls on the oxen's reins. She holds a hand out to anyone walking, signaling them to stop.
"Careful." She says, as she tries to look around at the thickets, trying to spot any signs of other living beings around. A hand goes to her war pick, as she looks ready to hop off the cart. "I'll bet five silver whatever did this is still near."
(Perception: 4)
The ever growing document of character concepts can never be too long, can it?
Zaiden would note Tristan likely came from the upper crust early on in their dealings, he had been around it enough himself growing up. He made no mention of it, people are allowed their own histories as far as Zaiden is concerned. The others he was still trying to get a bead on but it would come eventually...
Later, on the Tribal Road...
"It's a bet," Zaiden instinctively says.
Zaiden cautiously approaches the dead horses while also keeping an eye on the foliage around, cautious for any enemies creeping out of it. He's also trying to determine if the horses are still actively bleeding or if there are flies gathered and buzzing around the beasts, trying to determine how long since this happened.
Perception: 13 (one less if you want investigation instead...)
We're doing one small murder-y thing for a bigger, better reason. The ends justify the means.
-- Eleanor Shellstrop
Finn comes to a halt as Tristan points out the dead horses. His instincts kick in, and he immediately takes his daggers out of their sheaths, ready to defend himself if whatever attacked these horses is still around. He walks up towards Zaiden, calling out to the rest of the group
"Watch my back. Tristan's almost certainly right. Whoever killed these horses could still be nearby. I can try and figure out what happened to them if you watch out for any danger"
He then walks up to the horses, examining the arrows and the horses themselves to see if he can determine if they died recently, who they might have belonged to, or anything else he can find about what happened here. He keeps his daggers at the ready in case any danger strikes as he tries to determine what he can figure out from the horse's bodies
Investigation: 13
Sig jumps of the wagon, sword still on his sheath but ready to be pulled out in a second. When the oxen come to a full stop, he is already carefully walking towards the horses, checking around the area for any sounds or movement behind the trees. He looks back to the rest of the group, checking their exact positions and looks at Tristan, sharing her idea that maybe whoever did this is still around, he tries to be as silent as possible as he moves forward.
Signaling the rest of the group his intentions to scout a bit ahead, he keeps walking towards the dead horses.
"Hmmm black feathers... have I seen these somewhere? Could they be orc made?" He wonders, trying to get a closer look, trying to watch both sides of the forest at the same time.
Perception: 15
Sig make a nature check.
Nature: 9
Emrin readies his crossbow and kneels atop the cart, scanning for danger in the shadows and trees.
Perception: 16