Sen is miffed Durven didn’t want to provide him with any information. His funeral.“Well ok then mate..... Must have been the wrong house number I reckon.” Sen moves about the group moving anything that needs to be moved and loaded. When he passes Phyliss, Sen tips his hat, “good morning my lady.”He quickly gets back to work loading the wagon. When Sen passes Dathyra, he will give her the same greeting. He’s ready to put some distance between himself and this town. A town filled with nothing interesting, Sen thinks to himself.
When the food comes Sen will take some and eat it down. “Give my compliments to your wife on the meal. It’s very different but fortifying.”
Con save: 23
After watching almost everyone else nearly die, Sen will finish off each and every last bit of the other member's bowls. Sen will start talking about some of his prior adventures. "I was in Chult with a tribe of Yuan-ti, snake people. They had a meal of a roasted beetle, the size of your head I tell you! Luckily I had some Brontosaurus jerky on me. The beetle was rather sour. Another time I had an owlbear stew. Beautiful creatures but salty. Tasted more like bird than beast. Very strange...."
Sen will take his place on the side of the wagon if possible. Somewhere near Merric preferably. He retrieves a leather-bound notebook from his satchel and begins to pen notes of the surrounding area and town.
The mid-morning sun overcomes the frost of fall and within a couple of hours the pain of breakfast is but a memory. The company is well within the Flint Hills of the Northern Reach. The landscape is sparsely populated, barely suitable for livestock. The hills appeared in different shades of purple and lavender, as far as one could see and there was a certain austere beauty to it.
"We should be out of the hills in a few hours and the trail heads North. We might arrive tomorrow mid-day. I wonder.." he projects his voice over to the right side of the wagon where Harivaldr is walking "if anyone knows any traveling music?"
Not much later, but before the trail turns North, some spot something a little different at the edges of your line of sight. Something that looks more purposeful that natural rolling hills. [History check]
As promised a few hours later the trail veers North and Durven pulls out a basket of food. He doesn't seem to notice or comment at the sudden apprehension some may have at the appearance of Darla's provisions. He takes some bread and cheese and hands it off to Phyllis.
Sen packs away his notebook after jotting a few notes. He tries to get Merric's attention without alerting the others too much. "Pssst, halfling. What did Durven want from you?" Sen looks forward to making sure Durvan is paying attention to the road and not Sen and Merric. "I'm sure he means well, Durvan, but I don't think he's being all that truthful, at least with me."
Embarrassed by his lack of knowledge in this sort of history, Sen will not say a word. He pulls out the notebook and a quick note.
From his place beside the wagon, Harivaldr chuckles and readies his dulcimer once more. "I thought you'd never ask! How's about a shanty for the road?" He started strumming a lively, but not particularly fast tune, and before long began to sing a song he'd heard from many a drunken sailor. As with all shanties, once one heard the verse and chorus once, it would be easy to join in.
"Oh, we'd be alright if the wind was in our sails We'd be alright if the wind was in our sails We'd be alright if the wind was in our sails And we'll all hang on behind...
And we'll ro-o-oll the old chariot along! We'll ro-o-oll the old chariot along! We'll ro-o-oll the old chariot along! And we'll all hang on behind!"
As they turned north, the skald looked out over the landscape, perhaps noticing something... (History = 10)
"Hey....what's that !?!" Merric says loudly...pointing at something interesting off in the distance. History:9
"Oops...Sorry Harivaldr!" he adds apologetically and quietly, realizing he interrupted the shanty.
In response to Sen's inquiry (if anyone notices) Merric looks at Sen a bit sheepishly and puts his face down into his hands, looking a bit conflicted as if not sure of how to respond...
...after a few moments he slides over a bit more towards Sen and quietly starts talking.
Sen...I'll send you a PM with Merric's detailed response. A busy day here at work so might need a little bit longer to provide you the answer.
DM/Players...Feel free to set up a perception check/skill check to overhear etc. Not sure if Sen will keep everything secret afterwards, if anyone else is even interested, or info will come out in other ways later.
Eventually, with enough calming breaths and time, Dathyra's stomach settled out. Keeping her eyes on the area around her also helped. She knew that sometimes, she noticed things others did not. Jodon called it her gift. Dathyra considered it more just lucky chance.
She did notice that something about the nearby hills looked peculiar.
The tune returned Phyllis in bright spirits as she listens, her owl familiar taking roost on her shoulder and she sports a smile as she looks onto the road, taking in the charm of a wagon ride in the midday sun. At Merric's yell, Phyllis squints her eyes to try and see what could make the halfling excited. (History: 11)
After while, spying the basket that Durven pulls out, Phyllis steels her nerves and prays to the merciful gods that she could survive a second round of Darla's cooking. When she was handed bread and cheese instead, Phyllis obviously droops her shoulders in relief and takes them in hand, giving some bread to the silent familiar perched on her arm.
Just trying to be polite and as a way to try make up with Dathyra for laughing at her unease at the breakfast earlier, Merric takes out one of his last bits of one of his favorite snacks and makes his way over to Dathyra. He offers it to her...
A nice piece of dried (and only slightly mouldy) stream trout he caught and dried on a rock in the sun a week or so ago. Still smells pretty fresh.
*He tries really hard to be completely sincere and serious* Deception: 25
"Please...I insist. It's my last piece. You must be hungry"
My my, I hope the rolls go so well for Merric should real trouble start!!
As the road veers North, the landscape begins to change. Trees and varieties of vegetation become more diverse. The day has warmed considerably from its frosty start. There are plenty of birds calling from the trees. Occasionally you can heard the bard owl call out "who, who cooks for you?"
Rounding the bend, the party sees two robed and hooded figures walking along the edge of road so that they are out of the way. They are coming from the direction you are heading. They look to be walking arm in arm.
Okay, I'll have to react to one thing at a time, so first thing's first. Merric, I hope karma comes back at you ten-fold.
As her stomach settled, the queasy feeling was slowly being replaced by hunger. With nothing on her stomach and having walked all morning, she was starting to be distracted by the growls in her stomach. Merric's offer then seemed like a welcome relief. And fish was a rare treat that she missed from the days before the temple. Her people had typically lived on a diet of fresh-grown vegetables, fish, and small game. She sometimes missed it. At the same time, given the instability of this morning's breakfast, she didn't want to push herself too far.
Harivaldr was still strumming his dulcimer when he noticed the two robed figures on the side of the road up ahead. The sight of the two didn't worry him overmuch, in fact, a part of him was glad to see them. Wanderers means news, and news could help us prepare for the job still to come, he thought. With that in mind, he picked up his pace a bit and jogged forward until he was about forty feet away, where he waved to them and said, "Ho, travelers! Any news worth sharing with a fellow vagrant?" Though he hadn't drawn his longsword, his dulcimer was now stowed in his pack, and he stood confidently, but non-threateningly, before them.
Dathyra thought better of it, though. In truth, fish was probably the last thing she needed to try eating after this morning. Still, that didn't change that she was a little cross with Merric. For someone who had been so grateful and friendly the day before, he certainly had a funny way of showing any kind of closeness with others. She wasn't going to say anything now, though. No point in causing a scene. Her ears only flattened, a pretty good sign to anyone who could read elven facial expressions that she wasn't pleased, and said, "Thanks, but I don't think I'm quite up to trying to eat anything just yet. It looks like something you might enjoy, though."
Their exchange was cut short when Dathyra spied Harivaldr jogging up to the hooded figures in the distance. That definitely gave her an uneasy feeling. Hadn't Darla warned them to be wary of raiders or anyone trying to stop them? She let Harivaldr go to ask them questions, but stayed still, hands already nervously fingering her amulet around her neck.
"Oh....OK...." Merric replied to Dathyra. Realizing that she didn't take his teasing the way he intended (and then noticing the cross look on her face) Merric realized he may have overdone it. "Sorry Dathyra, I was just teasin ya. Don't be angry...." Feeling a bit guilty over his actions, he skulked back to his rear guard position when he noticed the robed figures and Harivaldr moving up to them. Grabbing his bow (but keeping it low and out of sight), he carefully searched the area for anything else out of place, his mind immediately thinking about the wagon being ambushed. Perception: 12
Her spine went rigid and she carefully gripped her seat under her as tightly as she could muster before seeing through the eyes of Nyxtra. It was always disorienting the first couple of seconds as she shifts her senses to Nyxtra, percieving the world slightly above her own head. The black owl gave an experimental few shakes on it's mistress, with permission of course, and when Phyllis deemed her body sturdy enough to not topple over, Nyxtra flew off.
The command was acknowledged. Gliding to a gentle stop, Nyxtra perched on Harivaldr's shoulder and taking a gander at the hooded duo.
Harivaldr was still standing proudly in the middle of the road when he felt a set of talons snag his shoulder.
In proud Dwarvish fashion, conducting himself in a manner only appropriate for a skald of his rank, with nary a hint of hesitation, Harivaldr squawked like a chicken as he flinched back and nearly brained the bird still fastened to his shoulder. As he stumbled, he just managed to right himself before he (and the owl, which he now recognized) took a tumble into a nearby ditch. Straightening himself, he took an exaggerated sniff, wiped his nose, and muttered, "Sorry about that, terrible allergies I have, sneezes like a thunderbolt."
Sen chases after Harivaldr as he leaves the others at the wagon. Sen tips his hat to the group. Who better than Sen to be the first line of defense if these are infact raiders.Sen makes sure he has easy access to his weapons but not handling them to give off an easy going appearance. Sen stands to the side of Harivaldr and a few steps back. Sen’s whip had enough reach to handle business from a distance. Sen remains quite for the moment ready to attack and save the musical inclined party member. It would be a long trip without some of those dwarven ballads. Sen scans the parties for weapons and a fighting stance.