"Scarlet?" murmurs Fergus, unfamiliar with the term. Perhaps some Crusade colloquialism, the imagery of bloodshed flashes in Fergus' mind. Without time to clarify, he settles to just be on alert.
Giving a small wave of welcome to the two joining them from the night before, Fergus listens to the Steward and watches the reactions from the others. Slipping a leather bound book from his bag, he flicks in a few pages to find a blank page. From his pocket he pulls an ink bottle and pops it open before slotting it securely into a small hoop on his belt. Finally he takes out his ink pen and dips it in the ink before jotting down details of the mission proposed, description of the Steward and notes made by his companions.
Nodding in agreement with Ori on his assessment of the price, Fergus also picks up on Sir Almeric's quickness on honing in on the lack of a 'why'. Why them and why does this hollow need investigating now? Mimicking Thatch, he joins Sir Almeric on his other side and waits for the Steward to reply. Fergus' suspicious nature cannot shake the idea that this is a wild goose chase, perhaps a plot to free the prisoner.
"Perhaps we should deliver the prisoner ourselves first Sir. You were the one entrusted and fifty crowns does not seem adequate compensation for your honor should anything happen to Le Cloche in our absence."
Fergus was not surprised by Sir Almeric's dichotomous behavior. The crusades were not for the the faint of heart and any that underestimated him were in for a rude awakening. He quietly rode with the group, now finally more used to travel and swaying with the beast rather than trying to control it.
He listens to the others and studies Notker. He prepares to fall in line behind Sir Almeric and makes a mental note of Sir Beorn, Steward to the Baron. To Sir Almeric
"What do you think Sir? Prisoner matters or perhaps a report on that brigand from the road?"
Almeric listens to the intelligence from Ori and Famh with some concern. The Barons Steward with 10 Men-a-Arms? A very excessive force to collect a fool like Maxime Le Cloche, Almeric thought. This is not for a lone robber knight either. What has he missed?
"Something is amiss here Fergus. Keep your wits about you. Watch out for Scarlett." Almeric absentmindedlyuses to his private nickname for Fahm, which he has never shared with anyone and no one knows about. Without further comment he strides towards the Bailiffs house.
======
After Beorn's show of power and wealth, Almeric's inquisitiveness was peaked. He knows who we are and why we are here, has 10 Men-at-Arms and a bag of gold. His new retinue does represent a threat and maybe Beorn is just assessing that threat?
"Sir Beorn, exactly what job would you like us to do, that you and your troop could not do?" Almeric picks up the purse and weighs it in his hands.
Sir Beorn bristled at Sir Almerics last few words but nodded his head after a moment,
" As you know the estates of Baron Aldred are widely scattered. He cannot personally supervise them all, so a shis Steward I spend much of his time overseeing the various villages and towns of the barony. And with Montombre and Grisaille on our borders I'm kept busier than most....too busy to deal with this currently."
" I'd normally send half my men but they're local boys mostly and too steeped in superstition and whimsy, they're full of stories and don't know the true ways pf the world like those of us that have seen true battle.", his eyes meet Sir Almerics. " Haven't spent days wading through the stink and heat, seen men split open and crying for their mothers as dogs tear at their innards."
“The baron’s tax collector passed through Norham from here two days ago, heading for the castle. He had the taxes of four manors in his saddlebags. A few hours later, his horse limped back into Norham without him. The taxes were missing also, and a fine sword I was sending as a gift for my brother."
"The horse must have thrown him up by Norham Wood—perhaps a 'Goblin' frightened it, pah. His neck can be broken for all I care, but I want that sword back. And if the taxes aren’t recovered, the peasants will have to pay twice this year. Not a pleasant thought, with winter coming on.”
From his look across Almerics retinue the fact that final sentence seems to come from a place of annoyance rather than concern is obvious to all.
Famh stands with the other retainers behind Sir Almeric, listening to his conversation with the steward. A small frown of concentration wrinkles her forehead, and she murmurs absently to herself, "Hob's Dell ... Hob's Dell in Gorham Wood ... why is that ringing a bell? Could I have passed by there ... oh, but there were so many places on the long long road. And who is the hob of Hob's Dell, I wonder; and why is he a trouble to the ... ?" Her voice trails off as she realizes belatedly that she is speaking her thoughts aloud.
=====================================
OOC: Your call whether Famh would have passed near enough the dell or heard enough rumours to know anything about the place in her backstory wanderings before reaching Igham
Famh didn't skirt overly close but she does recall an old crofter in the hills warning her about Gardener Jack as she passed through The Bleaks ( see map on Campaign page) on her way south.
Ori is leaning on a post of the stable, pack at his feet. On his shoulder sits a spiked greatclub. Clearly made to look crudely made, upon closer inspection you would find it was well crafted, like it's maker went out of their way to make it look like poorly made. 8 spikes jet out from the end of club adding to it barbaric aesthetic. "Welcome back mates, sorry you didn't get the welcoming committee you got last time but with the other visitors in polished armor and all. It appears this town is getting a higher class of travelers then when I strolled in aye? Why I'd wager this town has seen this many high and mighties in years. Hope all was uneventful on your end."
"Ori, right? Good to see you again and even better to see you with that mighty club! I'm hoping that means you'll be joining our motley crew. Peculiar news about these visitors. Our recent journey through the towns was quiet, but I had the feeling that wouldn't last for long. Did we miss anything else?"Cainneach tries to appear more amiable toward than intimidated by the large man.
Thatch raises his eyebrows at the Stewards words and shares a knowing look with Cainneach and Tana before stepping up next to Sir Almeric and adding in a low voice “Sometimes there is truth in those child fairy tales, milord. Strange things be walking the land lately. I’ve seen them with my own eyes. What is it exactly that needs taken care of there?”
Sir Beorn looked Thatch up and down before looking again to Sir Almeric and shrugging, " I want that sword back, and the gold if you can.....and Harald I suppose if the dozy git is still alive."
" Any bogies or boggles your wondering after you'd best speak to those in Norham if they afear you the peasants there have all sorts of tales."
Ori chimes in from the back, "Why no wonder you having trouble getting anyone to take that job. Way I figure it, and I'm sure Sir Almeric has a better head for numbers then me but there is 7 of us, so roughly 20 gp a piece. Now that's not even half the cost of decent studded leather protection. And at 1/10 share of what we find, to get the rest of money to get my armor I would need another 25 gp, and with 7 of us that's 175 gp for yhe group, so we would need to recover almost 2000 gold worth on this trip just so that I could afford studded leather. Fairy tales or not, the number don't add up very well. That's quite a risk for our heads for less then studded leather."
Incase needed:
Persuasion: 8
Sir Beorn raised an eyebrow and his mouth was set in a grimace for a moment before he shook his head slightly.
" Your paying your vassals? Is this Port Clysters influence on Sir Dayne?"
He turned an eye towards Ori, " Its your master here you needs speak with about your needs and wants not me, this is more gold than most of this lot would see in a lifetime.", he waved an arm to indicate the surrounding village.
" Which tells me your not a shepherd or crofter and that you lived by currency rather than serfdom....theres likely a tale there but not one I've an interest in."
" But be aware....if I were one of the more southern Knights I'd be asking your master here to have you soundly beaten for your presumptions....but I'm not. Indeed you've a large retinue and seemingly one composed of freemen rather than vassals.", there was a slight edge in his voice that Sir Almeric could not help but take as mild derision.
" So I'll throw an extra 50 in...upfront."
"Scarlet?" murmurs Fergus, unfamiliar with the term. Perhaps some Crusade colloquialism, the imagery of bloodshed flashes in Fergus' mind. Without time to clarify, he settles to just be on alert.
Giving a small wave of welcome to the two joining them from the night before, Fergus listens to the Steward and watches the reactions from the others. Slipping a leather bound book from his bag, he flicks in a few pages to find a blank page. From his pocket he pulls an ink bottle and pops it open before slotting it securely into a small hoop on his belt. Finally he takes out his ink pen and dips it in the ink before jotting down details of the mission proposed, description of the Steward and notes made by his companions.
Nodding in agreement with Ori on his assessment of the price, Fergus also picks up on Sir Almeric's quickness on honing in on the lack of a 'why'. Why them and why does this hollow need investigating now? Mimicking Thatch, he joins Sir Almeric on his other side and waits for the Steward to reply. Fergus' suspicious nature cannot shake the idea that this is a wild goose chase, perhaps a plot to free the prisoner.
"Perhaps we should deliver the prisoner ourselves first Sir. You were the one entrusted and fifty crowns does not seem adequate compensation for your honor should anything happen to Le Cloche in our absence."
Sir Beorn took in the quill and parchment and met Fergus' eyes, " Your seneschal?"
" My honour?"
" You've bold folk under you, Sir Almeric. Though they might find their necks a bit longer if you ever visit Ongus."
" Honour it is then. Payment upfront of 200."
" Now I can't do nought about the 10% of what you find, thats owed to the Baron himself as your on his lands........it will be on your HONOUR to surrender it."
Almeric smiles as his new found friends, being bold, direct and forthright, have outflanked the predictable Steward. Beorn had underestimated them on this occasion, revealed more than he intended and paid the price in gold. It is unlikely he would do that again, so Almeric recaps and takes the chance to mansplain to him.
"This is not Ongus, nor are southern knights in control. The Free Port of Clyster operate Merchant Venturing Companies, where all the company are freemen and can claim shares in all profits. Such companies require soldiers and scholars, priests and artisans alike. As you know, 1 Freeman is worth 10 Levies, and can deal with most situations. As the representative of House Dayne and I will choose the nature of the patronage and protection I offer to my retainers" The last remark is a defiant statement of Almeric's intent.
"Very well, Sir Beorn. You will guard the prisoner safe until my return. I will investigate the disappearance of Harold the Tax Collector, recover the price Sword, the taxes and Harold himself where possible. Payment of 200 Gold in advance and 10% of any spoils for this service. We leave within the hour/at dawn." [delete as applicable]*
Almeric waits for payment in from Beorn, then nods that the others can leave.
Sir Beorn grunts, though in satisfaction, bemusement or annoyance is hard to tell through the great bushy beard, and pushes the coin across the table towards Fergus who he has now seemingly assumed is Sir Almerics steward.
He has a number of wineskins supplied to the companions to either consume before or on the journey and with a curt nod levers himself up from the table and moves to speak with a small knot of his men at the base of the stairs.
( Probably ' within the hour' as its still midday and that will get you to Norham before dark.)
Famh waits until Sir Beorn has turned away; then she walks over to Fergus, deciding to play along with the mistake Beorn has made and communicate with Sir Almeric through his 'steward'.
"I've wandered a bit before I came to Igham, sir, and I think I heard something of this hob along the road. His name, at least, and for the Old Ones names oft have power. And if its only a mortal bandit playing off the crofters' fears, a name is worth a bit in catching him too. An old bouman who was kind enough to let me sleep in his byre warned me next morn to keep away from the dell for fear of 'Shepherd Jack'. I think our laird would want to know ... and by the by, how would he want us to call him? Ye seem to know him the best ... "
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Fergus quickly flicks to the back page of his book and draws a line down the middle and enters 200 gold on the left side. Straining a bit to lift the bag of coins, he secures it safely in his bag, He looks to Famh as she approaches
Famh waits until Sir Beorn has turned away; then she walks over to Fergus, deciding to play along with the mistake Beorn has made and communicate with Sir Almeric through his 'steward'.
"I've wandered a bit before I came to Igham, sir, and I think I heard something of this hob along the road. His name, at least, and for the Old Ones names oft have power. And if its only a mortal bandit playing off the crofters' fears, a name is worth a bit in catching him too. An old bouman who was kind enough to let me sleep in his byre warned me next morn to keep away from the dell for fear of 'Shepherd Jack'. I think our laird would want to know ... and by the by, how would he want us to call him? Ye seem to know him the best ... "
Fergus quickly takes note of this 'Jack', a lead they should follow once they start talking to the residence of Norham.
"Thanks Mole, this is valuable information. We haven't really had a chance to talk yet, I look forward to traveling together with all of you. And please, I am no sir. While I personally like to address Sir Almeric by his title, he has not asked me to. I believe it would benefit us all to address him formally in the company of those outside the retinue. By the way, I noticed an absence of mounts for you and Ori.."
Addressing Sir Almeric as he carefully puts away the ink
"Sir, perhaps we could borrow mounts from Sir Beorn if he and his men intend to stay here with the prisoner? We are expected to return with the coin and sword and lack of mounts would only hinder us on his mission."
Famh is about to turn back to where she had been standing beside Cainneach, when the irony of what she has just said strikes her. She chuckles. "Well, we'll see soon if this 'shepherd jill' can help Sir Almeric teach Jack its not nice to take your landlord's gold!"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Almeric escorts his retinue out the Bailiffs house and out of earshot of Sir Beorn, to the Nonesuch tavern.
"Let us take some refreshment, share the purse and have a little chat afore we leave." Nodding to Fergus "Give a few crowns to the Innkeep, if you please."
Almeric ensures everyone has food and drink before continuing. "I would like to explain a few guidelines for you, and your roles as my Retainers."
"Fergus will be our Scribe and control our accounts, being able to read an write. I suggested Fergus pays everyone 25 Crowns now, which leaves 25 Crowns in general funds."
This mission has a distinct other worldly element to it. I will need the counsel of Tana and Scarlett in this regard." Again, without thinking, Almeric uses his pet name for Famh.
"We must all be ready to fight, should it become unavoidable. I will need Ori to assist me in preparing and training everyone for this." Almeric has assessed Ori as a reliable warrior.
"Cainneach will be our scout. He is naturally cautious which is ideal for the job." Almeric is aware that Cainneach personal loss WILL make him stronger and better at his job.
"Thatch, you can watch and learn from everyone and let me know how best you can contribute." Almeric has yet to see the fresh faced boy blossum.
"Please reflect on your experience with Sir Beorn. Gentry and Nobles do not like it when addressed by those of lower social standing, especially with intelligent or challenging talk. Sir Beorn under-estimated us today, but now will be wary of what he cannot see. You gave him pause for thought, well done. If you need to speak with a Noble, address me directly. When doing so, please address me as 'Sir'. When we are alone, this is not necessary. I am happy for you to express your views openly, as a counsel of peers. Any questions?"
Thatch overhears Famh’s report to Fergus “Shephard Jack? I wonder what that means?” After seeing goblins, the white witch, and the lost tomb of the bear king, Thatch has gained a healthy respect for the stories he heard as a child and thinks back to any he may have heard about Shephard Jack. History or Religion (same modifier) 19.
He listens intently as Sir Almeric addresses the group, still getting used to the noble Crusader who was much different than Sir Valor. Thatch was still trying to process just how different. “No questions, but if it is all the same to you, mi’lord, I will stick with Master Cainneach and help where I can.” They had worked well together in Vallander's tunnels after all. Friendly to everyone, Thatch nevertheless remains closer to Cainneach and Tana as he gets to know his new companions.
(OOC: Assume we have gotten a long rest at some point since we left the tomb, but wanted to verify).
Almeric escorts his retinue out the Bailiffs house and out of earshot of Sir Beorn, to the Nonesuch tavern.
"Let us take some refreshment, share the purse and have a little chat afore we leave." Nodding to Fergus "Give a few crowns to the Innkeep, if you please."
Almeric ensures everyone has food and drink before continuing. "I would like to explain a few guidelines for you, and your roles as my Retainers."
"Fergus will be our Scribe and control our accounts, being able to read an write. I suggested Fergus pays everyone 25 Crowns now, which leaves 25 Crowns in general funds."
This mission has a distinct other worldly element to it. I will need the counsel of Tana and Scarlett in this regard." Again, without thinking, Almeric uses his pet name for Famh.
"We must all be ready to fight, should it become unavoidable. I will need Ori to assist me in preparing and training everyone for this." Almeric has assessed Ori as a reliable warrior.
"Cainneach will be our scout. He is naturally cautious which is ideal for the job." Almeric is aware that Cainneach personal loss WILL make him stronger and better at his job.
"Thatch, you can watch and learn from everyone and let me know how best you can contribute." Almeric has yet to see the fresh faced boy blossum.
"Please reflect on your experience with Sir Beorn. Gentry and Nobles do not like it when addressed by those of lower social standing, especially with intelligent or challenging talk. Sir Beorn under-estimated us today, but now will be wary of what he cannot see. You gave him pause for thought, well done. If you need to speak with a Noble, address me directly. When doing so, please address me as 'Sir'. When we are alone, this is not necessary. I am happy for you to express your views openly, as a counsel of peers. Any questions?"
Famh sighed to herself as she sat in the group of retainers around Sir Almeric, but only a little sigh. She hadn't really expected that the skills of a simple Fey-touched shepherd girl would actually be useful to a widely traveled Crusader. He hadn't even mentioned what he wanted her to do on the journey ... not that she knew much more than what she'd told Fergus. And as it was Cainneach she'd sworn to take service with before he'd reminded her she should be offering it to his lord, maybe Sir Almeric just assumed she'd help him.
She did wonder who this Scarlet was though. Perhaps some old comrade from the Crusades who now lived the townsman's life up in Norham?
Fergus pulls out his bag and starts to distribute the coin as instructed while updating the ledger.
"If any of ye want me to hold onto any coin for safekeeping just let me know"
As he writes in the changes he remembers the note from Famh, flicks to the page and says to the group
"Mole here was saying she heard of a Shepard Jack, or was it Gardner Jack, around Norham way that might be connected to the crime. Be worth dropping his name when we question the locals there I reckon."
"We must all be ready to fight, should it become unavoidable. I will need Ori to assist me in preparing and training everyone for this." Almeric has assessed Ori as a reliable warrior.
Ori's knowing grin slips from his face and stiffens a bit from his normally relaxed posture. Ori has had a lot of training using the intimidating weapon. He had to train to master using it in his old life where the masterpiece was created for him. But clearly he's not sure what he could pass along to the group. Ori had never hid his past, it just never seems to come up. People normally made assumptions about him based on his looks, emphasized but the weapon, which Ori normally used to his advantage.
"Right, well, swing harder then what your swinging at. Always worked for me. Plus it's not who swings first, but whi swings last that matters in the end. Keep those things in mind and you be alright."
He takes the coins offered to him, and leans back to his relaxed position, but the grin is still missing.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Tana remains silent from her place not far from the small group now consisting of herself, Famh, Cainneach, and Thatch. Nodding her head at Almeric to indicate having heard his orders but otherwise making no sign of movement – hovering within the space in the tavern.
Her gaze sweeps out into the near groups, gauging the folks around their odd party with mild interest. Her skills would really only be of use if she could single someone out, otherwise the scare of 'voices' or 'ghosts' may be all too frightening for these simple men.
She pockets the gold given out by Fergus, taking her eyes off the surrounding for a minute to nod her head in thanks his way. She resumes people scouting after the fact, keeping eyes and ears open for any potentially useful whisperings.
This mission has a distinct other worldly element to it. I will need the counsel of Tana and Scarlett in this regard." Again, without thinking, Almeric uses his pet name for Famh.
"Cainneach will be our scout. He is naturally cautious which is ideal for the job." Almeric is aware that Cainneach personal loss WILL make him stronger and better at his job.
"Thatch, you can watch and learn from everyone and let me know how best you can contribute." Almeric has yet to see the fresh faced boy blossum.
He listens intently as Sir Almeric addresses the group, still getting used to the noble Crusader who was much different than Sir Valor. Thatch was still trying to process just how different. “No questions, but if it is all the same to you, mi’lord, I will stick with Master Cainneach and help where I can.” They had worked well together in Vallander's tunnels after all. Friendly to everyone, Thatch nevertheless remains closer to Cainneach and Tana as he gets to know his new companions.
Tana remains silent from her place not far from the small group now consisting of herself, Famh, Cainneach, and Thatch. Nodding her head at Almeric to indicate having heard his orders but otherwise making no sign of movement – hovering within the space in the tavern.
Cainneach listens as Almeric goes through the ranks, enumerating tasks and distributing coin. Glancing at his recent companions, Thatch and Tana, he gets the sense that they likely feel the same as he does: unsure what following this bold fellow, a crusader, will truly mean for them.
Why must he treat Famh in this manner? She had already given two names by which she might be addressed, shouldn't Almeric simply use one of those? Names have power. That's why he and Dru had concealed theirs when they met everyone. Cainneach wasn't sure when he let his true name slip, most likely when speaking with Famh, but no one seemed too surprised. In any case, he felt that Famh deserved to be addressed as she chose, with some simple dignity, and Cainneach would make sure to do this faithfully.
Like Tana, Cainneach only nods in assent when his name and role are called out. However, he is once again perturbed when Thatch's excellent abilities are overlooked by the knight. After Thatch responds, Cainneach pats him on the back, nods, and grasps his hand in solidarity. After receiving his share of the pay from Fergus, he turns to the group with Tana, Famh, and Thatch and says quietly, "I'm not sure Almeric thinks much of us, but I fear that we'll have to be on our toes to keep him from getting us all into trouble. Mayhaps he'll prove us wrong, but let's look after each, aye? I don't want to lose anyone else whilst wandering the darker parts of Albion."
Thatch overhears Famh’s report to Fergus “Shephard Jack? I wonder what that means?” After seeing goblins, the white witch, and the lost tomb of the bear king, Thatch has gained a healthy respect for the stories he heard as a child and thinks back to any he may have heard about Shephard Jack. History or Religion (same modifier) 19.
He listens intently as Sir Almeric addresses the group, still getting used to the noble Crusader who was much different than Sir Valor. Thatch was still trying to process just how different. “No questions, but if it is all the same to you, mi’lord, I will stick with Master Cainneach and help where I can.” They had worked well together in Vallander's tunnels after all. Friendly to everyone, Thatch nevertheless remains closer to Cainneach and Tana as he gets to know his new companions.
(OOC: Assume we have gotten a long rest at some point since we left the tomb, but wanted to verify).
Tana remains silent from her place not far from the small group now consisting of herself, Famh, Cainneach, and Thatch. Nodding her head at Almeric to indicate having heard his orders but otherwise making no sign of movement – hovering within the space in the tavern.
Her gaze sweeps out into the near groups, gauging the folks around their odd party with mild interest. Her skills would really only be of use if she could single someone out, otherwise the scare of 'voices' or 'ghosts' may be all too frightening for these simple men.
She pockets the gold given out by Fergus, taking her eyes off the surrounding for a minute to nod her head in thanks his way. She resumes people scouting after the fact, keeping eyes and ears open for any potentially useful whisperings.
(Perception:10)
Within the manor hall itself Sir Beorns retinue were doing little in the way of discussion, and the scant staff were just remarking on the preponderance of big-jobs about. Heading out of the manor with the others the village is taking note of the visitors but has seen most of your lot before so are not too interested. Indeed the two conversations picked up on are comments on Famh and Ori leaving and a recent wild dog attack on some of the sheep.
This mission has a distinct other worldly element to it. I will need the counsel of Tana and Scarlett in this regard." Again, without thinking, Almeric uses his pet name for Famh.
"Cainneach will be our scout. He is naturally cautious which is ideal for the job." Almeric is aware that Cainneach personal loss WILL make him stronger and better at his job.
"Thatch, you can watch and learn from everyone and let me know how best you can contribute." Almeric has yet to see the fresh faced boy blossum.
He listens intently as Sir Almeric addresses the group, still getting used to the noble Crusader who was much different than Sir Valor. Thatch was still trying to process just how different. “No questions, but if it is all the same to you, mi’lord, I will stick with Master Cainneach and help where I can.” They had worked well together in Vallander's tunnels after all. Friendly to everyone, Thatch nevertheless remains closer to Cainneach and Tana as he gets to know his new companions.
Tana remains silent from her place not far from the small group now consisting of herself, Famh, Cainneach, and Thatch. Nodding her head at Almeric to indicate having heard his orders but otherwise making no sign of movement – hovering within the space in the tavern.
Cainneach listens as Almeric goes through the ranks, enumerating tasks and distributing coin. Glancing at his recent companions, Thatch and Tana, he gets the sense that they likely feel the same as he does: unsure what following this bold fellow, a crusader, will truly mean for them.
Why must he treat Famh in this manner? She had already given two names by which she might be addressed, shouldn't Almeric simply use one of those? Names have power. That's why he and Dru had concealed theirs when they met everyone. Cainneach wasn't sure when he let his true name slip, most likely when speaking with Famh, but no one seemed too surprised. In any case, he felt that Famh deserved to be addressed as she chose, with some simple dignity, and Cainneach would make sure to do this faithfully.
Like Tana, Cainneach only nods in assent when his name and role are called out. However, he is once again perturbed when Thatch's excellent abilities are overlooked by the knight. After Thatch responds, Cainneach pats him on the back, nods, and grasps his hand in solidarity. After receiving his share of the pay from Fergus, he turns to the group with Tana, Famh, and Thatch and says quietly, "I'm not sure Almeric thinks much of us, but I fear that we'll have to be on our toes to keep him from getting us all into trouble. Mayhaps he'll prove us wrong, but let's look after each, aye? I don't want to lose anyone else whilst wandering the darker parts of Albion."
( In terms of horses whilst Sir Beorn and two of his men ride the rest of his retinue are on foot accompanying a light mule drawn wagon. Sir Beorn rides a destrier of Cornumbrian breed and his two men ride palfreys.)
Almost a days journey east on foot brings you to Norham. The road, as you know well, is a treacherous muddy track at this time of year, and as you pass the village pond you begin to savour thoughts of a hot bath. Perhaps one of the good people of Norham will take you in.
They are stout-hearted folk, proud of their freedom and the living they eke out in this tiny farming community. You have heard from your previous travels that they always help wayfarers out of the kindness of their hearts, and never accept payment.
Perhaps you heard wrong. Three men strolling in from the fields glower at you coldly before disappearing into a wide building of stone and timber.
Seeing little else in the way of activity in the waning daylight you make your way inside.
The air is smoky from the fire in the middle of the building. A cow has been slaughtered and is slowly roasting over the hearth. There are several people here, and among them you quickly pick out the men you saw outside.
“ Begging your Lordships pardon but we have little in the way of hospitality to offer at this time,” declares one, stepping up to you. “These are lean times and we are honest working folk. Toil is the most respected virtue in Norham. Perhaps Gullys Inn, further east would be more fitting a resting place.” Everyone in the room has fallen silent. They watch you with sullen expressions, the tension in the room is palpable.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Famh accepts her crowns with a curtsey, puts them in her pouch and returns to her seat. You get the feeling that while she''s quite aware what the crowns are, she isn't quite sure for the moment what to do with them. After a pause, she goes up to the tapster and asks for an "Athole brose". When he gives her nothing but a look of total incomprehension she sighs, orders a tumbler each of whiskey, sweet cream and honey and beats them slowly together herself. As she sips from her glass, she tries to remember any scraps of lore or tale she might have heard about hobs and about Fey creatures who play the role of a shepherd. At the same time, she listens within herself to see if the new-waking voice of her Fey side has any ancestral memories of such beings.
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Arcana 24
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Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Almost a days journey east on foot brings you to Norham. The road, as you know well, is a treacherous muddy track at this time of year, and as you pass the village pond you begin to savour thoughts of a hot bath. Perhaps one of the good people of Norham will take you in.
They are stout-hearted folk, proud of their freedom and the living they eke out in this tiny farming community. You have heard from your previous travels that they always help wayfarers out of the kindness of their hearts, and never accept payment.
Perhaps you heard wrong. Three men strolling in from the fields glower at you coldly before disappearing into a wide building of stone and timber.
Seeing little else in the way of activity in the waning daylight you make your way inside.
The air is smoky from the fire in the middle of the building. A cow has been slaughtered and is slowly roasting over the hearth. There are several people here, and among them you quickly pick out the men you saw outside.
“ Begging your Lordships pardon but we have little in the way of hospitality to offer at this time,” declares one, stepping up to you. “These are lean times and we are honest working folk. Toil is the most respected virtue in Norham. Perhaps Gullys Inn, further east would be more fitting a resting place.” Everyone in the room has fallen silent. They watch you with sullen expressions, the tension in the room is palpable.
The first few days traveling with Famh leave two main impressions in your mind as the fleeting ones of the moment fade away with time. The first is that you quite admire the practiced skill with which she lashed her sgeain dubh, the short Thulish dagger she carries at her belt next to the longer dirk, to the end of her walking stick. This gives her an extra grip on the stick while the dagger is sheathed, and an improvised short spear when she draws the simple leather sheath off. The other is that you think you might at some point succeed in breaking her of her habit of collecting every single twig, leaf, piece of bark, bit of dry grass or other burnable she comes across and obsessively hoarding them as if her life depended on it. You'd be able to make more progress in this if you didn't feel so much like a brute reflecting how often her life probably did depend on it before she came to Igham and met you, especially on the heathery Thulish moors where fuel was scarce.
As the companions trudge along the track leading into Norham, Famh pulls the hood of her traveling cloak up to obscure her features. She didn't want to look like she was trying to hide her face, so she stopped short of completely concealing it; but if they were already nervous about Fey creatures here she did NOT think they'd react well if they realized there was a half-Fey in the heavily armed group now marching into town. And though she had her suspicions that some of her new traveling companions were more kin to her in that regard than she'd thought, her features seemed to be the most blatantly strange. At least, she didn't see any stone scars on any of the other's arms or faces ... though she supposed they might have concealed theirs even better than she had. Some pollen from the Queen Anne's lace flower and a little goose grease could do wonders for a girl ... She shook her head and drew herself back to the present, falling back to walk a pace or so behind Cainneach. "I don't think they like fey folk here.," she whispers to him. "I'd best be your apprentice or someaught like that ... folk might be less likely to pay much notice to me, think?"
"Scarlet?" murmurs Fergus, unfamiliar with the term. Perhaps some Crusade colloquialism, the imagery of bloodshed flashes in Fergus' mind. Without time to clarify, he settles to just be on alert.
Giving a small wave of welcome to the two joining them from the night before, Fergus listens to the Steward and watches the reactions from the others. Slipping a leather bound book from his bag, he flicks in a few pages to find a blank page. From his pocket he pulls an ink bottle and pops it open before slotting it securely into a small hoop on his belt. Finally he takes out his ink pen and dips it in the ink before jotting down details of the mission proposed, description of the Steward and notes made by his companions.
Nodding in agreement with Ori on his assessment of the price, Fergus also picks up on Sir Almeric's quickness on honing in on the lack of a 'why'. Why them and why does this hollow need investigating now? Mimicking Thatch, he joins Sir Almeric on his other side and waits for the Steward to reply. Fergus' suspicious nature cannot shake the idea that this is a wild goose chase, perhaps a plot to free the prisoner.
"Perhaps we should deliver the prisoner ourselves first Sir. You were the one entrusted and fifty crowns does not seem adequate compensation for your honor should anything happen to Le Cloche in our absence."
Sir Beorn bristled at Sir Almerics last few words but nodded his head after a moment,
" As you know the estates of Baron Aldred are widely scattered. He cannot personally supervise them all, so a shis Steward I spend much of his time overseeing the various villages and towns of the barony. And with Montombre and Grisaille on our borders I'm kept busier than most....too busy to deal with this currently."
" I'd normally send half my men but they're local boys mostly and too steeped in superstition and whimsy, they're full of stories and don't know the true ways pf the world like those of us that have seen true battle.", his eyes meet Sir Almerics. " Haven't spent days wading through the stink and heat, seen men split open and crying for their mothers as dogs tear at their innards."
“The baron’s tax collector passed through Norham from here two days ago, heading for the castle. He had the taxes of four manors in his saddlebags. A few hours later, his horse limped back into Norham without him. The taxes were missing also, and a fine sword I was sending as a gift for my brother."
"The horse must have thrown him up by Norham Wood—perhaps a 'Goblin' frightened it, pah. His neck can be broken for all I care, but I want that sword back. And if the taxes aren’t recovered, the peasants will have to pay twice this year. Not a pleasant thought, with winter coming on.”
From his look across Almerics retinue the fact that final sentence seems to come from a place of annoyance rather than concern is obvious to all.
Famh didn't skirt overly close but she does recall an old crofter in the hills warning her about Gardener Jack as she passed through The Bleaks ( see map on Campaign page) on her way south.
Sir Beorn looked Thatch up and down before looking again to Sir Almeric and shrugging, " I want that sword back, and the gold if you can.....and Harald I suppose if the dozy git is still alive."
" Any bogies or boggles your wondering after you'd best speak to those in Norham if they afear you the peasants there have all sorts of tales."
Sir Beorn raised an eyebrow and his mouth was set in a grimace for a moment before he shook his head slightly.
" Your paying your vassals? Is this Port Clysters influence on Sir Dayne?"
He turned an eye towards Ori, " Its your master here you needs speak with about your needs and wants not me, this is more gold than most of this lot would see in a lifetime.", he waved an arm to indicate the surrounding village.
" Which tells me your not a shepherd or crofter and that you lived by currency rather than serfdom....theres likely a tale there but not one I've an interest in."
" But be aware....if I were one of the more southern Knights I'd be asking your master here to have you soundly beaten for your presumptions....but I'm not. Indeed you've a large retinue and seemingly one composed of freemen rather than vassals.", there was a slight edge in his voice that Sir Almeric could not help but take as mild derision.
" So I'll throw an extra 50 in...upfront."
Sir Beorn took in the quill and parchment and met Fergus' eyes, " Your seneschal?"
" My honour?"
" You've bold folk under you, Sir Almeric. Though they might find their necks a bit longer if you ever visit Ongus."
" Honour it is then. Payment upfront of 200."
" Now I can't do nought about the 10% of what you find, thats owed to the Baron himself as your on his lands........it will be on your HONOUR to surrender it."
Almeric smiles as his new found friends, being bold, direct and forthright, have outflanked the predictable Steward. Beorn had underestimated them on this occasion, revealed more than he intended and paid the price in gold. It is unlikely he would do that again, so Almeric recaps and takes the chance to mansplain to him.
"This is not Ongus, nor are southern knights in control. The Free Port of Clyster operate Merchant Venturing Companies, where all the company are freemen and can claim shares in all profits. Such companies require soldiers and scholars, priests and artisans alike. As you know, 1 Freeman is worth 10 Levies, and can deal with most situations. As the representative of House Dayne and I will choose the nature of the patronage and protection I offer to my retainers" The last remark is a defiant statement of Almeric's intent.
"Very well, Sir Beorn. You will guard the prisoner safe until my return. I will investigate the disappearance of Harold the Tax Collector, recover the price Sword, the taxes and Harold himself where possible. Payment of 200 Gold in advance and 10% of any spoils for this service. We leave within the hour/at dawn." [delete as applicable]*
Almeric waits for payment in from Beorn, then nods that the others can leave.
Sir Beorn grunts, though in satisfaction, bemusement or annoyance is hard to tell through the great bushy beard, and pushes the coin across the table towards Fergus who he has now seemingly assumed is Sir Almerics steward.
He has a number of wineskins supplied to the companions to either consume before or on the journey and with a curt nod levers himself up from the table and moves to speak with a small knot of his men at the base of the stairs.
( Probably ' within the hour' as its still midday and that will get you to Norham before dark.)
(OOC: are we riding/getting mounts as I don't think Ori would of had one prior?)
Famh waits until Sir Beorn has turned away; then she walks over to Fergus, deciding to play along with the mistake Beorn has made and communicate with Sir Almeric through his 'steward'.
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
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OOC: Likewise and ditto? In fact I'm absolutely sure Famh came on foot LOL
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Fergus quickly flicks to the back page of his book and draws a line down the middle and enters 200 gold on the left side. Straining a bit to lift the bag of coins, he secures it safely in his bag, He looks to Famh as she approaches
Fergus quickly takes note of this 'Jack', a lead they should follow once they start talking to the residence of Norham.
"Thanks Mole, this is valuable information. We haven't really had a chance to talk yet, I look forward to traveling together with all of you. And please, I am no sir.
While I personally like to address Sir Almeric by his title, he has not asked me to. I believe it would benefit us all to address him formally in the company of those outside the retinue.
By the way, I noticed an absence of mounts for you and Ori.."
Addressing Sir Almeric as he carefully puts away the ink
"Sir, perhaps we could borrow mounts from Sir Beorn if he and his men intend to stay here with the prisoner? We are expected to return with the coin and sword and lack of mounts would only hinder us on his mission."
Famh is about to turn back to where she had been standing beside Cainneach, when the irony of what she has just said strikes her. She chuckles. "Well, we'll see soon if this 'shepherd jill' can help Sir Almeric teach Jack its not nice to take your landlord's gold!"
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Almeric escorts his retinue out the Bailiffs house and out of earshot of Sir Beorn, to the Nonesuch tavern.
"Let us take some refreshment, share the purse and have a little chat afore we leave." Nodding to Fergus "Give a few crowns to the Innkeep, if you please."
Almeric ensures everyone has food and drink before continuing. "I would like to explain a few guidelines for you, and your roles as my Retainers."
"Fergus will be our Scribe and control our accounts, being able to read an write. I suggested Fergus pays everyone 25 Crowns now, which leaves 25 Crowns in general funds."
This mission has a distinct other worldly element to it. I will need the counsel of Tana and Scarlett in this regard." Again, without thinking, Almeric uses his pet name for Famh.
"We must all be ready to fight, should it become unavoidable. I will need Ori to assist me in preparing and training everyone for this." Almeric has assessed Ori as a reliable warrior.
"Cainneach will be our scout. He is naturally cautious which is ideal for the job." Almeric is aware that Cainneach personal loss WILL make him stronger and better at his job.
"Thatch, you can watch and learn from everyone and let me know how best you can contribute." Almeric has yet to see the fresh faced boy blossum.
"Please reflect on your experience with Sir Beorn. Gentry and Nobles do not like it when addressed by those of lower social standing, especially with intelligent or challenging talk. Sir Beorn under-estimated us today, but now will be wary of what he cannot see. You gave him pause for thought, well done. If you need to speak with a Noble, address me directly. When doing so, please address me as 'Sir'. When we are alone, this is not necessary. I am happy for you to express your views openly, as a counsel of peers. Any questions?"
Thatch overhears Famh’s report to Fergus “Shephard Jack? I wonder what that means?” After seeing goblins, the white witch, and the lost tomb of the bear king, Thatch has gained a healthy respect for the stories he heard as a child and thinks back to any he may have heard about Shephard Jack. History or Religion (same modifier) 19.
He listens intently as Sir Almeric addresses the group, still getting used to the noble Crusader who was much different than Sir Valor. Thatch was still trying to process just how different. “No questions, but if it is all the same to you, mi’lord, I will stick with Master Cainneach and help where I can.” They had worked well together in Vallander's tunnels after all. Friendly to everyone, Thatch nevertheless remains closer to Cainneach and Tana as he gets to know his new companions.
(OOC: Assume we have gotten a long rest at some point since we left the tomb, but wanted to verify).
Famh sighed to herself as she sat in the group of retainers around Sir Almeric, but only a little sigh. She hadn't really expected that the skills of a simple Fey-touched shepherd girl would actually be useful to a widely traveled Crusader. He hadn't even mentioned what he wanted her to do on the journey ... not that she knew much more than what she'd told Fergus. And as it was Cainneach she'd sworn to take service with before he'd reminded her she should be offering it to his lord, maybe Sir Almeric just assumed she'd help him.
She did wonder who this Scarlet was though. Perhaps some old comrade from the Crusades who now lived the townsman's life up in Norham?
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Fergus pulls out his bag and starts to distribute the coin as instructed while updating the ledger.
"If any of ye want me to hold onto any coin for safekeeping just let me know"
As he writes in the changes he remembers the note from Famh, flicks to the page and says to the group
"Mole here was saying she heard of a Shepard Jack, or was it Gardner Jack, around Norham way that might be connected to the crime. Be worth dropping his name when we question the locals there I reckon."
Ori's knowing grin slips from his face and stiffens a bit from his normally relaxed posture. Ori has had a lot of training using the intimidating weapon. He had to train to master using it in his old life where the masterpiece was created for him. But clearly he's not sure what he could pass along to the group. Ori had never hid his past, it just never seems to come up. People normally made assumptions about him based on his looks, emphasized but the weapon, which Ori normally used to his advantage.
"Right, well, swing harder then what your swinging at. Always worked for me. Plus it's not who swings first, but whi swings last that matters in the end. Keep those things in mind and you be alright."
He takes the coins offered to him, and leans back to his relaxed position, but the grin is still missing.
Tana remains silent from her place not far from the small group now consisting of herself, Famh, Cainneach, and Thatch. Nodding her head at Almeric to indicate having heard his orders but otherwise making no sign of movement – hovering within the space in the tavern.
Her gaze sweeps out into the near groups, gauging the folks around their odd party with mild interest. Her skills would really only be of use if she could single someone out, otherwise the scare of 'voices' or 'ghosts' may be all too frightening for these simple men.
She pockets the gold given out by Fergus, taking her eyes off the surrounding for a minute to nod her head in thanks his way. She resumes people scouting after the fact, keeping eyes and ears open for any potentially useful whisperings.
(Perception:19)
Noire Havensong | Harengon Archfey Warlock 6/Lore Bard 4 | Westmarch - Guild of the Phoenix (Discord)
Tanatari Crelieu | Kalashtar Druid 2 | Damian_May's Sleeping Gods
Jynx Starrkeep | Changling GOO Warlock 2 | Astien's Tyranny of Dragons
DM | Eberron Eternal (Discord)
Cainneach listens as Almeric goes through the ranks, enumerating tasks and distributing coin. Glancing at his recent companions, Thatch and Tana, he gets the sense that they likely feel the same as he does: unsure what following this bold fellow, a crusader, will truly mean for them.
Why must he treat Famh in this manner? She had already given two names by which she might be addressed, shouldn't Almeric simply use one of those? Names have power. That's why he and Dru had concealed theirs when they met everyone. Cainneach wasn't sure when he let his true name slip, most likely when speaking with Famh, but no one seemed too surprised. In any case, he felt that Famh deserved to be addressed as she chose, with some simple dignity, and Cainneach would make sure to do this faithfully.
Like Tana, Cainneach only nods in assent when his name and role are called out. However, he is once again perturbed when Thatch's excellent abilities are overlooked by the knight. After Thatch responds, Cainneach pats him on the back, nods, and grasps his hand in solidarity. After receiving his share of the pay from Fergus, he turns to the group with Tana, Famh, and Thatch and says quietly, "I'm not sure Almeric thinks much of us, but I fear that we'll have to be on our toes to keep him from getting us all into trouble. Mayhaps he'll prove us wrong, but let's look after each, aye? I don't want to lose anyone else whilst wandering the darker parts of Albion."
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( Indeed, the overnight stay gave a Long Rest.)
Within the manor hall itself Sir Beorns retinue were doing little in the way of discussion, and the scant staff were just remarking on the preponderance of big-jobs about. Heading out of the manor with the others the village is taking note of the visitors but has seen most of your lot before so are not too interested. Indeed the two conversations picked up on are comments on Famh and Ori leaving and a recent wild dog attack on some of the sheep.
( In terms of horses whilst Sir Beorn and two of his men ride the rest of his retinue are on foot accompanying a light mule drawn wagon. Sir Beorn rides a destrier of Cornumbrian breed and his two men ride palfreys.)
Almost a days journey east on foot brings you to Norham. The road, as you know well, is a treacherous muddy track at this time of year, and as you pass the village pond you begin to savour thoughts of a hot bath. Perhaps one of the good people of Norham will take you in.
They are stout-hearted folk, proud of their freedom and the living they eke out in this tiny farming community. You have heard from your previous travels that they always help wayfarers out of the kindness of their hearts, and never accept payment.
Perhaps you heard wrong. Three men strolling in from the fields glower at you coldly before disappearing into a wide building of stone and timber.
Seeing little else in the way of activity in the waning daylight you make your way inside.
The air is smoky from the fire in the middle of the building. A cow has been slaughtered and is slowly roasting over the hearth. There are several people here, and among them you quickly pick out the men you saw outside.
“ Begging your Lordships pardon but we have little in the way of hospitality to offer at this time,” declares one, stepping up to you. “These are lean times and we are honest working folk. Toil is the most respected virtue in Norham. Perhaps Gullys Inn, further east would be more fitting a resting place.” Everyone in the room has fallen silent. They watch you with sullen expressions, the tension in the room is palpable.
Famh accepts her crowns with a curtsey, puts them in her pouch and returns to her seat. You get the feeling that while she''s quite aware what the crowns are, she isn't quite sure for the moment what to do with them. After a pause, she goes up to the tapster and asks for an "Athole brose". When he gives her nothing but a look of total incomprehension she sighs, orders a tumbler each of whiskey, sweet cream and honey and beats them slowly together herself. As she sips from her glass, she tries to remember any scraps of lore or tale she might have heard about hobs and about Fey creatures who play the role of a shepherd. At the same time, she listens within herself to see if the new-waking voice of her Fey side has any ancestral memories of such beings.
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Arcana 24
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
The first few days traveling with Famh leave two main impressions in your mind as the fleeting ones of the moment fade away with time. The first is that you quite admire the practiced skill with which she lashed her sgeain dubh, the short Thulish dagger she carries at her belt next to the longer dirk, to the end of her walking stick. This gives her an extra grip on the stick while the dagger is sheathed, and an improvised short spear when she draws the simple leather sheath off. The other is that you think you might at some point succeed in breaking her of her habit of collecting every single twig, leaf, piece of bark, bit of dry grass or other burnable she comes across and obsessively hoarding them as if her life depended on it. You'd be able to make more progress in this if you didn't feel so much like a brute reflecting how often her life probably did depend on it before she came to Igham and met you, especially on the heathery Thulish moors where fuel was scarce.
As the companions trudge along the track leading into Norham, Famh pulls the hood of her traveling cloak up to obscure her features. She didn't want to look like she was trying to hide her face, so she stopped short of completely concealing it; but if they were already nervous about Fey creatures here she did NOT think they'd react well if they realized there was a half-Fey in the heavily armed group now marching into town. And though she had her suspicions that some of her new traveling companions were more kin to her in that regard than she'd thought, her features seemed to be the most blatantly strange. At least, she didn't see any stone scars on any of the other's arms or faces ... though she supposed they might have concealed theirs even better than she had. Some pollen from the Queen Anne's lace flower and a little goose grease could do wonders for a girl ... She shook her head and drew herself back to the present, falling back to walk a pace or so behind Cainneach. "I don't think they like fey folk here.," she whispers to him. "I'd best be your apprentice or someaught like that ... folk might be less likely to pay much notice to me, think?"
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1