The wagon passes through the gates, and the group is met with the sight of a sprawling landscape before them. Softly rolling hills of frosted green, with patches snow and mud. The mountains rise up high and imposing on the right, and the wide, strong river flanks them on the left, winding between the rises and falls of the ground It all slopes gently downward, away from Tensmith, and on the distant horizon, there is a reflective sliver of blue marking the ocean.
The horses trot forward, and the party is once again reminded of the time of year. In the heat of the forges and mines from the city, there had been no sign of winter, but out here the chill air tugs at hair and clothing.
The horses plod along for several hours, the sun cresting and then beginning its descent. The path rounds a hill and the river comes back into view. It has widened out considerably, and the water here is slower. The road begins to angle toward it, and the group makes out a small hut and stable beside a stone pier. A horse is hitched up inside the stable, eating at some feed. No one else is in sight.
Malachi nods at Ashley’s remarks about the inn “Very wise, Ashley, settle down at a nice inn and maybe find out the lay of the land so to speak before we make our move.” He stands as the wagon approaches the gates and snaps off a poor imitation of a salute as the guard ushers them through “Thank you, good sir!” He smiles at Joren “See, this is the only way to travel.”
He settles back in the wagon and pulls out a small compact of make-up and powder that he uses to cover the markings on his forehead. He looks at Samir as he works “No need to draw more attention to ourselves. Maybe masking it will interfere with it somehow, I got a strange sense that they knew I was coming in the tunnels.”
He finishes just as they approach the small hut “What’s this, should we stop in? Maybe get some word of the road ahead?”he asks the others.
Instinct makes Joren take a good look around. A single spot to draw the attention of every traveler such as the hut, pier and horse might be only what it seems. Or it might be a spot for an ambush. He scans the hut and surroundings to look for threats or hazards. Or anything else out of the ordinary.
As Ashley watches Joren take a good look around, she chuckles at his over preparedness. She looks up at Malachi as he asks about word of the road ahead and nods, "good idea"
She walks a few paces towards the abode, then calls out, "Hello! Anyone home?"
Joren quickly spots another pier at the distant opposite back of the river, and each pier has a winch on top, with a rope dropping down into the water. Joren wonders if this is some sort of crossing point. The building itself has just the faintest whisper of smoke trailing from the chimney, and he hears footsteps from inside, behind window which he now realizes have been boarded up.
As Ashley calls out, their is a squeak and a sound of splintering wood. One of the boards over the window comes away as its last nail is removed, and a large orc sticks his head out through the new gap. "Hmm? You're earlier than I was expecting. Hang on, just give me a second."
His head retreats back into the building, and their is a scuffling as he moves to the door. Opening up, he steps out into the light. A piece of straw dangles lopsidedly from his lips, and his wintery attire indicates he has yet to switch out of his riding clothes. He tucks a hammer into his belt and wipes his hands on his pants. "Heya there. Gurman at your service. Sorry you've caught me a little unprepared. I expect you're looking to cross?"
Malachi jumps down from the wagon, raising a small cloud of dust from the road. “Well met, Master Gurman. The ferryman, I take it? Yes, I expect we will be looking to cross it that is the way to Talmouth. Anyone pass through lately?” He pauses, remembering something the Orc just said “Wait, you were expecting us? Surely word of our travels have not reached this far ahead of us.”
The orc peers at Malachi with squinted eyes. "You specifically? No. But I assume you're coming from Tensmith. I just got here from there myself. I've been locked up in the city same as everyone else. Not much ferry work to be done for the last few months. The city guard sent me out a bit early so I could get myself set back up before you merchants inevitably started showing up, but I guess they didn't hold you back very long." He moves the straw to the other side of his mouth. "As far as other passersby, unless they swam, the river's probably been pretty quiet."
He looks over at Joren. In fact he seems to be look everywhere but at Ashley. "You seem pretty strong," he says to the half-dwarf. "If you're itching to be on your way sooner rather than later, and free of charge to boot, thinkyou might help me get the ferry back in the water?"
Gurman grabs a shovel and leads Joren around to the side of the building behind the stables where there is what looks like a large mound of snow. He begins scraping the snow off of the top of the mound, revealing a canvas sheet draped over something underneath. With enough of the snow cleared away, he pulls the sheet aside to reveal a large, square pontoon raft with a low railing on two sides, a ramp on either end, and a winch mechanism on one side. Small wheels on the underside make moving it just barely manageable on the rough ground. Together, Joren and Gurman start pushing the vessel toward the pier.
"Your... echo?" Gurman looks at Joren's echo in confusion as they finish moving the ferry. "This guy?" He walks up and waves a hand in front of the echo's face to see if it responds. "That is passing strange. Part of them magic happenings from last night?" Gurman grabs the chain hanging off the pier and begins hooking it up to the mechanism on the ferry, checking and double checking that it is secure before pushing the craft off the edge of the pier.
"It should be a smooth passage..." He looks off towards Tensmith. "... but we may have to wait a few minutes." He points at a tiny smudge of flame and smoke rising from a tower built into Tensmith's wall, just barely visible over the rolling landscape. "Ship coming. They wasted no time."
"No," Gurman says. "It's a signal fire that they light up when a ship is on its way so I'm not trying to cross when a large vessel come through." Sure enough, before long a barge appears around a bend further upstream. General celebration and jubilance can be heard aboard as they pass by.
"Wait, not knowing about the ferry or the signal fire... I should have put it together sooner. You're those outsiders what came in and helped out around town, aren't ya?" The barge passes and Gurman begins winding the winch attached to the stone pier. The chain rattles as it winds up, and soon, more chain rises out of the water, stretching taut across the river's width. Silt and river mud drips off the chain in places, caked on from the chain's long dormancy along the bottom of the river bed. "All the gladder I am that I'm not charging you for the passage!"
With Gurman's help, the wagon and horses are guided onto the ferry, just large enough to accommodate everyone. Then Gurman starts working the winch aboard the boat itself, causing it to lurch and start traveling along the chain towards the far bank. The veins in his forearms bulge with the sustained exertion, and he soon works up a sweat. It's clear where he got his muscle from, but also that this is his first time doing this in several months.
After about ten minutes, the ferry reaches the pier at the other side. Gurman wipes his brow and squints back at the signal fire. "Oop, guess I get to take a bit of a rest before heading back." He starts loosening the chain once more, allowing it to dip back under the waters surface and sink far enough down for the next boat to pass over it. "Well I hope you enjoyed the passage. Please do come again!" He beams at the group.
Ashley watches in fascination as the man basically pulls them across the river. She looks over the edge and is very glad they ran into this fellow, a bit odd as he might be, not looking people in the eye. Ah well, might just be his way. And with living out here all by himself, she can understand it.
As they get to the other side and get their horses and carriage off the boat, she heads over to him and holds out her hand, "Gurman was it? Thank you so much for your hospitality, you have quite the setup here. I hope you can keep up with what I am sure is about to be a lot of busniess."
Joren hides a smile at the effect Ashley has on Gurman. In truth, I am knowing how he feels!
He claps the orc on the back in thanks, then looks around at the path to where they can continue with their horse and cart to reach the cover of trees or a rise in the land. The first boat, seemingly full of celebrating people, had already passed within eyeshot. But if possible, Joren would like to minimize the chance that word of the group's journey reaches Talmouth before they do. Wanting to observe the second boat without being seen by its passengers.
"He seemed a pleasant enough sort." Samir is once more in the back of the wagon, wedged into a moderately comfortable position as they set off away from the river crossing. "I can only hope that whoever else we meet on this trip is of like mind." The half-orc only looked up briefly as he spoke, his attention on a book propped in his lap and the quick scribbling he was doing on its pages. Notes on their travels thus far, he had told the others. Despite the ever-present threat of spilled ink, Samir was determined to take the opportunity to at least get some things down in short hand, so that they could be written out more fully in the future.
Gurman manages to meet Ashley's eyes as he reaches for her hand. He hesitates, as if determining whether the contact will burn him. But he quickly finds his resolve and shakes her hand. "Sorry, I don't mean to stare. You're just not quite like anyone I've seen before."
With the road open before them, the group is once again able to set off, making good time towards the now visible walls of Talmouth
Malachi leans against the wagon, eating a dried apple and watching the boat float by, looking to see if he can make out any useful features or determine her cargo. He was no stranger to ships, from the floating barges and smaller craft that shuttled trade between the sister cities or points further inland. He silently cursed himself and glanced to the others. “We should have booked passage on a ship, I was so focused on the mine, I never thought about how they moved goods.”
He thanks the Orc as they reach the other side and climbs back aboard the wagon to continue the journey, focused not on the second ship, but the path ahead “Look, in the distance, are those the walls of the city, already? Next stop is Ashley’s inn. A warm meal, cold drink and time to figure out our next steps.”He leans back, whistling a happy tune as they travel.
This is the first time Joren has traveled overland in Cambria, other than the short, exhausted sleep-deprived stumble from the foothills of the Shield Pass down to the Opportunity Knocks Inn. So he eagerly takes in all the sights, out of interest, but also out of instinct as a soldier, remembering features of the terrain and how they might lend themselves to a battle or military campaign. If the party rests, he volunteers to keep watch and secure the campsite.
If time permits, he gets back to his exercise regimen, calisthenics and drilling with his greatsword and handaxes. Remembering the Razmus cultists lends a particular barbaric ferocity to his routine.
The sun continues its descent as their journey continues. The road's muck slow them a bit, but not so bad as it would have without the wagon. They start to encounter trees, and can see the outskirts of a large forest to the left of the road.
The chill in the air intensifies as the sun passes down behind the western horizon, and the horses look to be in need of rest. Joren suggests making camp by a small copse of trees halfway up the side of a low hill. While everyone makes camp and sorts out food for the evening, Joren walks the perimeter and crests the rise to get a look at their surroundings.
(Joren, give me a nature check, and everyone who wants to spend some time on watch duty, give me perception)
Joren comes across some animal markings, but its hard to tell how old they are, or from what kind of animal. Deciding to be extra vigilant given his lack of familiarity with the environment, Joren stations himself on the top of the rise for his watch and disciplines his body into total stillness. So it is that he spots the wolves cresting a small hill with trees to the south, before they spot his silhouette. He notes that their current path will bring them close to his sleeping comrades, but they don't necessarily seem to be heading straight toward the camp.
So he whispers a warning to Malachi, the closest and waits.
They come nearer.
They don't look particularly malnourished. Not having people travelling through the area this winter has probably been good for the hunting wolves.
He waits a little longer. The wolves are closer now. Deciding the distance is right, Joren draws his greatsword and clangs it against his armour with a series of loud metallic bangs. The wolves, caught off guard, spook immediately and turn tail, fleeing over the nearest hill.
The rest of the night passes without any further commotion. Marion spots a deer amongst some trees at one point and wonders if it will be food tonight. Then the chirping of birds heralds the dawning sun, and everyone wakes up refreshed and ready to continue. There is a light powder drifting down from the sky, and the muddy road has frozen stiff overnight. Joren warms up his chilly bones with drills before breakfast, and Samir studies the notes he had written from the back of the wagon on the previous day. Before long, the group heads out. Their passage is swifter now with more solid ground beneath wheel and hoof. Several more hours pass by, but the sun has not yet reached its peak before the city gates come into view.
Seeing the wall and gates up close, they are impressive indeed. To Ashley, at least. To Joren, they look solidly built, but neither as high, nor as combat ready as most of the walls surrounding cities on the northern border of his homeland. Samir and Malachi have both seen their share of impressive architecture, both with the innovative and artistic designs at the academy, and the ancient, elaborately designed grandeur of Teyra'Athal, across the Venn Canal from Madurst.
"Halt!" One of a pair of guards standing by the gates, currently wide open, holds a hand, signaling for the wagon to stop. He holds a small board with several papers pinned to it. "State whence you hail, and the nature of your business in Talmouth," he drones, seemingly bored.
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The wagon passes through the gates, and the group is met with the sight of a sprawling landscape before them. Softly rolling hills of frosted green, with patches snow and mud. The mountains rise up high and imposing on the right, and the wide, strong river flanks them on the left, winding between the rises and falls of the ground It all slopes gently downward, away from Tensmith, and on the distant horizon, there is a reflective sliver of blue marking the ocean.
The horses trot forward, and the party is once again reminded of the time of year. In the heat of the forges and mines from the city, there had been no sign of winter, but out here the chill air tugs at hair and clothing.
The horses plod along for several hours, the sun cresting and then beginning its descent. The path rounds a hill and the river comes back into view. It has widened out considerably, and the water here is slower. The road begins to angle toward it, and the group makes out a small hut and stable beside a stone pier. A horse is hitched up inside the stable, eating at some feed. No one else is in sight.
Malachi nods at Ashley’s remarks about the inn “Very wise, Ashley, settle down at a nice inn and maybe find out the lay of the land so to speak before we make our move.” He stands as the wagon approaches the gates and snaps off a poor imitation of a salute as the guard ushers them through “Thank you, good sir!” He smiles at Joren “See, this is the only way to travel.”
He settles back in the wagon and pulls out a small compact of make-up and powder that he uses to cover the markings on his forehead. He looks at Samir as he works “No need to draw more attention to ourselves. Maybe masking it will interfere with it somehow, I got a strange sense that they knew I was coming in the tunnels.”
He finishes just as they approach the small hut “What’s this, should we stop in? Maybe get some word of the road ahead?” he asks the others.
Instinct makes Joren take a good look around. A single spot to draw the attention of every traveler such as the hut, pier and horse might be only what it seems. Or it might be a spot for an ambush. He scans the hut and surroundings to look for threats or hazards. Or anything else out of the ordinary.
Joren Perception: 22
Regardless, he summons his echo.
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
As Ashley watches Joren take a good look around, she chuckles at his over preparedness. She looks up at Malachi as he asks about word of the road ahead and nods, "good idea"
She walks a few paces towards the abode, then calls out, "Hello! Anyone home?"
Joren quickly spots another pier at the distant opposite back of the river, and each pier has a winch on top, with a rope dropping down into the water. Joren wonders if this is some sort of crossing point. The building itself has just the faintest whisper of smoke trailing from the chimney, and he hears footsteps from inside, behind window which he now realizes have been boarded up.
As Ashley calls out, their is a squeak and a sound of splintering wood. One of the boards over the window comes away as its last nail is removed, and a large orc sticks his head out through the new gap. "Hmm? You're earlier than I was expecting. Hang on, just give me a second."
His head retreats back into the building, and their is a scuffling as he moves to the door. Opening up, he steps out into the light. A piece of straw dangles lopsidedly from his lips, and his wintery attire indicates he has yet to switch out of his riding clothes. He tucks a hammer into his belt and wipes his hands on his pants. "Heya there. Gurman at your service. Sorry you've caught me a little unprepared. I expect you're looking to cross?"
Malachi jumps down from the wagon, raising a small cloud of dust from the road. “Well met, Master Gurman. The ferryman, I take it? Yes, I expect we will be looking to cross it that is the way to Talmouth. Anyone pass through lately?” He pauses, remembering something the Orc just said “Wait, you were expecting us? Surely word of our travels have not reached this far ahead of us.”
The orc peers at Malachi with squinted eyes. "You specifically? No. But I assume you're coming from Tensmith. I just got here from there myself. I've been locked up in the city same as everyone else. Not much ferry work to be done for the last few months. The city guard sent me out a bit early so I could get myself set back up before you merchants inevitably started showing up, but I guess they didn't hold you back very long." He moves the straw to the other side of his mouth. "As far as other passersby, unless they swam, the river's probably been pretty quiet."
He looks over at Joren. In fact he seems to be look everywhere but at Ashley. "You seem pretty strong," he says to the half-dwarf. "If you're itching to be on your way sooner rather than later, and free of charge to boot, thinkyou might help me get the ferry back in the water?"
Joren agrees to help with the ferry. But he keeps his echo summoned alongside him, not attempting to hide it.
Why is he avoiding looking at Ashley? Was he told to watch for a fire genasi? Or just shy?
Insight: 15
"Sorry, you are only getting my help, not my echo's. Are you foreseeing any problems with the crossing?"
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
Gurman grabs a shovel and leads Joren around to the side of the building behind the stables where there is what looks like a large mound of snow. He begins scraping the snow off of the top of the mound, revealing a canvas sheet draped over something underneath. With enough of the snow cleared away, he pulls the sheet aside to reveal a large, square pontoon raft with a low railing on two sides, a ramp on either end, and a winch mechanism on one side. Small wheels on the underside make moving it just barely manageable on the rough ground. Together, Joren and Gurman start pushing the vessel toward the pier.
"Your... echo?" Gurman looks at Joren's echo in confusion as they finish moving the ferry. "This guy?" He walks up and waves a hand in front of the echo's face to see if it responds. "That is passing strange. Part of them magic happenings from last night?" Gurman grabs the chain hanging off the pier and begins hooking it up to the mechanism on the ferry, checking and double checking that it is secure before pushing the craft off the edge of the pier.
"It should be a smooth passage..." He looks off towards Tensmith. "... but we may have to wait a few minutes." He points at a tiny smudge of flame and smoke rising from a tower built into Tensmith's wall, just barely visible over the rolling landscape. "Ship coming. They wasted no time."
"Aye, being part of the magic," Joren allows as he helps Gurman. True in a way, even.
Joren peers back towards Tensmith trying for a view of the ship. "Is the fire and smoke coming from what they are doing to let the ship out?"
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
"No," Gurman says. "It's a signal fire that they light up when a ship is on its way so I'm not trying to cross when a large vessel come through." Sure enough, before long a barge appears around a bend further upstream. General celebration and jubilance can be heard aboard as they pass by.
"Wait, not knowing about the ferry or the signal fire... I should have put it together sooner. You're those outsiders what came in and helped out around town, aren't ya?" The barge passes and Gurman begins winding the winch attached to the stone pier. The chain rattles as it winds up, and soon, more chain rises out of the water, stretching taut across the river's width. Silt and river mud drips off the chain in places, caked on from the chain's long dormancy along the bottom of the river bed. "All the gladder I am that I'm not charging you for the passage!"
With Gurman's help, the wagon and horses are guided onto the ferry, just large enough to accommodate everyone. Then Gurman starts working the winch aboard the boat itself, causing it to lurch and start traveling along the chain towards the far bank. The veins in his forearms bulge with the sustained exertion, and he soon works up a sweat. It's clear where he got his muscle from, but also that this is his first time doing this in several months.
After about ten minutes, the ferry reaches the pier at the other side. Gurman wipes his brow and squints back at the signal fire. "Oop, guess I get to take a bit of a rest before heading back." He starts loosening the chain once more, allowing it to dip back under the waters surface and sink far enough down for the next boat to pass over it. "Well I hope you enjoyed the passage. Please do come again!" He beams at the group.
Ashley watches in fascination as the man basically pulls them across the river. She looks over the edge and is very glad they ran into this fellow, a bit odd as he might be, not looking people in the eye. Ah well, might just be his way. And with living out here all by himself, she can understand it.
As they get to the other side and get their horses and carriage off the boat, she heads over to him and holds out her hand, "Gurman was it? Thank you so much for your hospitality, you have quite the setup here. I hope you can keep up with what I am sure is about to be a lot of busniess."
Joren hides a smile at the effect Ashley has on Gurman. In truth, I am knowing how he feels!
He claps the orc on the back in thanks, then looks around at the path to where they can continue with their horse and cart to reach the cover of trees or a rise in the land. The first boat, seemingly full of celebrating people, had already passed within eyeshot. But if possible, Joren would like to minimize the chance that word of the group's journey reaches Talmouth before they do. Wanting to observe the second boat without being seen by its passengers.
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
"He seemed a pleasant enough sort." Samir is once more in the back of the wagon, wedged into a moderately comfortable position as they set off away from the river crossing. "I can only hope that whoever else we meet on this trip is of like mind." The half-orc only looked up briefly as he spoke, his attention on a book propped in his lap and the quick scribbling he was doing on its pages. Notes on their travels thus far, he had told the others. Despite the ever-present threat of spilled ink, Samir was determined to take the opportunity to at least get some things down in short hand, so that they could be written out more fully in the future.
Gurman manages to meet Ashley's eyes as he reaches for her hand. He hesitates, as if determining whether the contact will burn him. But he quickly finds his resolve and shakes her hand. "Sorry, I don't mean to stare. You're just not quite like anyone I've seen before."
With the road open before them, the group is once again able to set off, making good time towards the now visible walls of Talmouth
Malachi leans against the wagon, eating a dried apple and watching the boat float by, looking to see if he can make out any useful features or determine her cargo. He was no stranger to ships, from the floating barges and smaller craft that shuttled trade between the sister cities or points further inland. He silently cursed himself and glanced to the others. “We should have booked passage on a ship, I was so focused on the mine, I never thought about how they moved goods.”
He thanks the Orc as they reach the other side and climbs back aboard the wagon to continue the journey, focused not on the second ship, but the path ahead “Look, in the distance, are those the walls of the city, already? Next stop is Ashley’s inn. A warm meal, cold drink and time to figure out our next steps.” He leans back, whistling a happy tune as they travel.
This is the first time Joren has traveled overland in Cambria, other than the short, exhausted sleep-deprived stumble from the foothills of the Shield Pass down to the Opportunity Knocks Inn. So he eagerly takes in all the sights, out of interest, but also out of instinct as a soldier, remembering features of the terrain and how they might lend themselves to a battle or military campaign. If the party rests, he volunteers to keep watch and secure the campsite.
If time permits, he gets back to his exercise regimen, calisthenics and drilling with his greatsword and handaxes. Remembering the Razmus cultists lends a particular barbaric ferocity to his routine.
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
The sun continues its descent as their journey continues. The road's muck slow them a bit, but not so bad as it would have without the wagon. They start to encounter trees, and can see the outskirts of a large forest to the left of the road.
The chill in the air intensifies as the sun passes down behind the western horizon, and the horses look to be in need of rest. Joren suggests making camp by a small copse of trees halfway up the side of a low hill. While everyone makes camp and sorts out food for the evening, Joren walks the perimeter and crests the rise to get a look at their surroundings.
(Joren, give me a nature check, and everyone who wants to spend some time on watch duty, give me perception)
Joren Perception: 24 (Natural 20)
Joren Nature: 6 (or 8 for Survival)
Tanis(Ranger1): Shiverquill's Tempest City | Xarian(Fighter2): NioNSwiper's Tyranny of Dragons
Dyson/Eleo(TwilightCleric4): Vos' Beyond the Veil | Soren(ShepherdDruid5): Bartjeebus' Ravenloft | Ophelia(WildMagicSorcerer4): Ashen_Age's Risen from the Sands
Joren(EchoKnightFighter6): NotDrizzt's Simple Request | Sabetha(MercyMonk3): Bedlymn's Murder Court | Seri(NatureCleric3/DivineSoulSorcerer1): Bartjeebus' Greyhawk
Joren comes across some animal markings, but its hard to tell how old they are, or from what kind of animal. Deciding to be extra vigilant given his lack of familiarity with the environment, Joren stations himself on the top of the rise for his watch and disciplines his body into total stillness. So it is that he spots the wolves cresting a small hill with trees to the south, before they spot his silhouette. He notes that their current path will bring them close to his sleeping comrades, but they don't necessarily seem to be heading straight toward the camp.
So he whispers a warning to Malachi, the closest and waits.
They come nearer.
They don't look particularly malnourished. Not having people travelling through the area this winter has probably been good for the hunting wolves.
He waits a little longer. The wolves are closer now. Deciding the distance is right, Joren draws his greatsword and clangs it against his armour with a series of loud metallic bangs. The wolves, caught off guard, spook immediately and turn tail, fleeing over the nearest hill.
The rest of the night passes without any further commotion. Marion spots a deer amongst some trees at one point and wonders if it will be food tonight. Then the chirping of birds heralds the dawning sun, and everyone wakes up refreshed and ready to continue. There is a light powder drifting down from the sky, and the muddy road has frozen stiff overnight. Joren warms up his chilly bones with drills before breakfast, and Samir studies the notes he had written from the back of the wagon on the previous day. Before long, the group heads out. Their passage is swifter now with more solid ground beneath wheel and hoof. Several more hours pass by, but the sun has not yet reached its peak before the city gates come into view.
Seeing the wall and gates up close, they are impressive indeed. To Ashley, at least. To Joren, they look solidly built, but neither as high, nor as combat ready as most of the walls surrounding cities on the northern border of his homeland. Samir and Malachi have both seen their share of impressive architecture, both with the innovative and artistic designs at the academy, and the ancient, elaborately designed grandeur of Teyra'Athal, across the Venn Canal from Madurst.
"Halt!" One of a pair of guards standing by the gates, currently wide open, holds a hand, signaling for the wagon to stop. He holds a small board with several papers pinned to it. "State whence you hail, and the nature of your business in Talmouth," he drones, seemingly bored.