"That "duke" you speak of sounds quite awful! I saw your work against the 'holy' ones, and I think you would make a great addition to our adventuring crew. Please feel free to come along!"
"I must admit I was must curious for an explanation for what I saw in the crypt. I have never heard or read anything like what I saw. You were quite fearsome." Listening to Hannah's story " The wish to help those who suffer is a noble pursuit. It sounds like you did the right thing in the end with this vile Duke. Such knowledge should not be in the hands of the layman, such things sound more the purview of the Academy"
"As for Drakkenheim, the road can get quite dangerous closer to the city. As I understand it law and order depends more on the strength of the induvial Dukes and Barons of Westemar, and that banditry is rife in the area of the city."
Young one, you have indeed suffered a great affliction, one by your own hand. However we are all granted a mercy. We will gladly accept you how you are if you can promise to do the same for us.
We are a growing group of misfits with unique and quirky personalities so you will fit right in. We’ve all got out skeletons to hide.
*with that, the group began to gather our things and set off to Drakkenhiem*
Your Highness, thank you for your hospitality. May the flames see you through this Endeavor.
*The group leaves the Cathedral and sets down the road *
"It seems to work for our purposes that we travel together," Elena says, feeling that this group, at the very least, would not try to interfere with her goals. "I find myself compelled to travel to Drakkenheim. The future of the family I serve is there or so I am told. It will be a perilous journey, there is no doubt about that. The stories and rumours I've heard on the road up here seem to be drawn from the deepest and darkest nightmares. But perhaps Ser Lando, we should at least wait until the next day before traveling?" She adds the last remark to Lando's disappearing back.
"Ser Lando, was it? over there? I can see you're trying to hurry us out of here. A couple of us just got here and we here there are some nice inns around. Can we please stop by for at least a drink and a hearty rest?" " I think several of us would appreciate that. " "Thank you."
But ofcourse, *grinding his teeth silently* whatever the needs of my nee companions. We shall do our best to go wherever we need to to prepare you for your travels.
No sense in creating strife before a long journey. However I insist we get to know one another a bit better. I suggest a game.
Ill ask each of you 3 questions and you can choose 1 of them to answer and the other two to ignore and in return you can ask the same of me.
Moksad, Lady Elena? Do you want to play a game?
*tilting his head forward looking over his glasses with a smirk*
The sun long has set, and the party, most of them hankering for rest and refreshment, makes their way down the hill which the Cathedral of Saint Rosalind sits atop, down the muddy streets and across the boardwalks to the Dry District. The slums and ramshackle houses on stilts quickly give way here to far nicer townhomes of cedar and stone, a wealthier section of town a much farther distance from the belch of the collieries in the hills to the east.
Asking around a bit, they find the Gavel and Gauntlet on Chisel Street. The lamps are lit and a fire blazes in the fireplace as they enter. Already numerous people are seated at the bars and the various tables, most of them looking to be the artisanal sort, blacksmiths and wheelwrights and cobblers and carpenters and the like. Not one person in this establishment looks like a miner, and Hannah knows that the miners, as poorly off as they are (and many of them suffering from odd illnesses and growths in recent years), can't really afford the prices, or the social strata, at this particular tavern.
A barmaid comes up with a cheery smile to take orders as the whole party finds a seat. "Travellers, ay? Looking a mite restless, there, handsome," she smiles at Lando. Yvara, at his side, merely gives the serving wench a look, which she seems not to notice. "What can I get you all? We've got pork pie and slug skewers fresh tonight, and some pickled eggs if you fancy. And any that you'd like of ale and spirits, of course."
first question. what is your greatest physical fear, some that if you saw would strike fear in your heart?
second question. What gods do you serve, surely being from elsewhere you have your own belief system?
third question. Would you kill for the right price. Im not talking just money, although if that lights your flame than so be it. But im also talking morals, is there an act or offensive grace enough that would cause you to seek the death of another being?
" To the first question: Squirming, roving, appendages I once saw coming from a strange and apparently what you refer to as contaminated dog. I believe I heard one of our more well travelled elders refer to the appendages as 'tentacles.'"
"To the second question: To me, I serve that which exists around us. Our matrons at our village are Danu and Arwyn. We often use human idols to represent them, but right now we rest comfortably on the very surface that is Danu and we look up to Arwyn as the largest object in the night sky. We also worship other beings including the brightest being of our every day Lugh."
"To the third question: what a dreadful thought that such a question should be asked of me at this period of still relative youth in my life! I would not consider murder for some kind of profit, but if one were to hurt people I care about I would go burn through the hells for them."
Elena frowns at Lando. "You can play your game, if you wish," she says after ordering a glass of wine for herself. "But if there's something you wish to know about me, the courteous and lordly thing to do is just speak and ask plainly." Of course, the Libero idea of speaking plainly involved a lot of subterfuge but something about making it in a game rubbed Elena the wrong way.
Sitting at the table across with the rest a the party. "A wine for me too, please" He says to the barmaid. Turning to Elina "Pardon M'lord, Lady Elena. The road to has been long and we have kept to ourselves for much of it. We often would play word games to help pass the time." giving her a foppish grin "Perhaps it has become a bit of a habit." The barmaid returns with the a pair of glasses of wine." Ah thank you" Raising his glass to the group "Let start's this adventure with a toast. Too new beginnings and new friends" As he speaks he raises his glass to Elena, Moksad, and Hannah "And to steadfast ones" Rinsing his glass to Lando and Yevra. "May we all find our Truths in Drakkenheim"
Hannah sipped at her ale (she would have preferred tea but thought it impolite to refuse the ale offered to her) and looked around at her new group of…colleagues? Compatriots? Comrades? For one used to the dourness of Westemarians, and especially Todesfelders, she found herself quite absorbed with the bravado of the Illyrians, the haughtiness of the Liberioso, and the gregariousness of the Walderman. As the conversation swayed back and forth and from topic to topic, Hannah’s methodical mind was continuing to process all the implications of her newfound resolution to travel with this group of foreigners to the Haunted City. Her material possessions were easily disposed of: the majority of them would fit neatly in her pack. Should she seek some type of armor? No, she didn’t know the first thing about buying, wearing, or maintaining the stuff, and she theorized that her physiology was tough enough without further need of things like leather or chain. Did she have enough alchemical materials for the journey? She was running low on electrum shavings after catalyzing the last batch of serum for Emmerich….
Emmerich! She shot up from her chair and quickly scrambled to keep from knocking over her own stein of ale. (Sleight of Hand: 11+1=12). She set the stein down in the center of the table and used her sleeve to wipe up the ale that had slopped onto the table.
”I’m sorry, I have just recalled an important appointment. I must go now, but I shall meet you all here in the common room tomorrow morning, and we shall depart, yes?”
Hannah hastily makes her exit, leaving the others wondering, but warm-hearted and in good spirits as they relax with ale and wine. They tell stories long into the night, sometimes laughing with ease, at other times with wary glances at individuals so different from themselves. As the night wanes on, each are able to procure rooms to their liking, whether alone or shared, and each of them sleep a deep and dreamless sleep, as if to escape for a moment the danger and uncertainty of the path forward.
Dawn comes early in Highsummer, and the party is up with first light and making ready to leave Todesfeld, saddling their horses and packing their bags. Low clouds sit over Todesfeld, and mist hangs in the street. It's a dreary start to the next leg of their journey, but the party follows the main street without trouble. They make a brief stop at Saint Rosalind's Cathedral, where High Flamekeeper Irma welcomes them to her morning prayers at the brazier and gives them her blessing. It's the Feast of Saint Puriphon today, a saint obscure enough that not even Irma is sure who he is. The party rides on out of Todesfeld without incident.
It's a few days west to Glothfen, the last large town before the long road through the Achtungwald to Altbruke. The party resupplies their rations before they set out. Highsummer is hot and muggy, and the road winding through the deep forests of pine and fir provide welcome shade. It takes about 5 weeks of travel for the party to reach Altbruke, which they arrive at on the new moon on 11 Midyear, where they are able to stay in far nicer accomodations than has been their lot in the hostels and chapels and the occasional farmhouse that littered the main road through the forest. Although in the heat of summer the work in the fields and farms is heavy, Altbruke still has a constant stream of think tanks and interesting lectures going on at its University, which, if any of the party have any interest, they might attend a few.
In Altbruke, they quickly learn that merchant caravans routinely leave from here to Emberwood Village, the supply village for those venturing into the ruined capital. It isn't difficult for them to find a small caravan of trade goods and food supplies to travel with, although they are warned by the foreman of the party, a man with cropped, wavy grey hair and a short patch of beard named Danore Nellynthar, to bring plenty of water and feed for their mounts during the journey, as a hundred miles out from Drakkenheim, everything ceases to grow, and there is no grazing whatsoever. The party accompanies three well-loaded covered supply wagons pulled by draft teams and driven by Danore and his two sons, and those of the party on foot are offered a spot to ride in the wagons, although it's somewhat uncomfortable jammed between barrels and boxes.
They pass through many villages and even a small town or two along the way during the first part of the journey, refilling water barrels and picking up supplies as needed. Danore recognizes and calls out to just about everyone the party sees in the town. But the villages quickly become more scarce, and the caravan and the party are left many nights camping out under the stars and cooking their rations on open campfires. Danore makes sure to picket all the animals out each night to eat grass, encourging the party to conserve their feed for the days ahead, and he invites each of them to tell their tale around the campfire. He shares his own and that of his two sons. He was a ratcatcher by trade, but since the civil war ended, word had quickly traveled that there was a lot of money to be made in hauling supplies to Emberwood village. "It's a dangerous business, of course," Danore says amiably, "there's bandits on these roads once we get closer to the ruins. That's why I always like to travel in as large of a group as possible... it tends to deter them." Elena notes the golden skin and light sea-grey eyes of Danore and his two sons, as well as their light step and unusually keen perception, and wonders if they don't also have some elven blood in their ancestry.
After two weeks travelling on the road, the countryside turns dreary and desaturated. The caravan passes many abandoned villages with dilapidated homes, crumbling farmsteads with sallow empty fields, and forests of dead trees. Thorny brambles and harsh scrubgrass are all that grow along the mud-slick road. Drizzling rain fills most days, and the wind howls at night. Aside from the creaking wagon wheels, you only hear the cawing of crows. Danore now ties the horses up at night with feedbags. "Better they don't try to eat anything that's still growing here," he says. "It's... well, poisoned."
The last week of travel is terribly unpleasant. Danore and his sons sing and play around the fire each night, intentionally to push back the oppressiveness of the dead land around them. One son has a lute, and all of them have pleasing bass voices. They do their best to keep everyone's spirits up, and encourage Elena to join in their songs with her viol. They are encourging of Lando, Roman, and Yvara to lead some chants and prayers, being followers of the Sacred Flame themselves. "The Flame is our light in the darkness of Drakkenheim," Danore says. They don't have much to say about the Falling Fire or Lucretia, should those topics come up, but it's clear they find the extreme renunciation of that sect somewhat ridiculous.
At last, after thundering across a wide bridge that crosses the Drann River a few miles south of Drakkenheim, the caravan arrives early in the afternoon at Emberwood Village, a humble crossroads along Champion’s Way surrounded by forsaken farmsteads and dark pine forests. Many residences are abandoned and slowly deteriorating with their windows and doors nailed shut. However, the village centre is alive with activity. Conversation, laughter, and music resound from several taverns along the main thoroughfare. Amidst a bustling market square, a small crowd of adventurers, merchants, and prospectors busily traffic all manner of weapons, equipment, coins, recovered treasures, and a few strange glimmering crystals. Even the light of the Sacred Flame still glows within the modest stone chapel at the heart of town.
"Well," Danore says appreciately, "we made it. Come and find me in the market centre after my boys and I get set up, I'll introduce you to my friend Armin Gainsbury, he's got some good equipment for adventurers into the ruins. If you need a place to relax and get a good meal, check out the Bark and Buzzard tavern. Karin Alsberg is the owner there, and can set you up in one of the abandoned houses if you need lodging. There's also the Red Lion Hotel, up on that hill north of town, by the Emberwash stream. It's expensive, but you'll get great service there, and tell you the truth, everything in Emberwood village is expensive." With a wry grin he salutes the adventures. "Thanks for your company. Best of luck to you in the ruins!" He and his sons cluck to their teams and the caravans rattle off towards the market centre.
"Hey fellow travelers, mayhaps we should stock up on necessary procurements and wares- and perhaps upgrades to things we have if we have (I believe its) the coin!" "Maybe we should rest from our travel as well"
Moksad
"That "duke" you speak of sounds quite awful! I saw your work against the 'holy' ones, and I think you would make a great addition to our adventuring crew. Please feel free to come along!"
Roman Silverstar
"I must admit I was must curious for an explanation for what I saw in the crypt. I have never heard or read anything like what I saw. You were quite fearsome." Listening to Hannah's story " The wish to help those who suffer is a noble pursuit. It sounds like you did the right thing in the end with this vile Duke. Such knowledge should not be in the hands of the layman, such things sound more the purview of the Academy"
"As for Drakkenheim, the road can get quite dangerous closer to the city. As I understand it law and order depends more on the strength of the induvial Dukes and Barons of Westemar, and that banditry is rife in the area of the city."
Young one, you have indeed suffered a great affliction, one by your own hand. However we are all granted a mercy. We will gladly accept you how you are if you can promise to do the same for us.
We are a growing group of misfits with unique and quirky personalities so you will fit right in. We’ve all got out skeletons to hide.
*with that, the group began to gather our things and set off to Drakkenhiem*
Your Highness, thank you for your hospitality. May the flames see you through this Endeavor.
*The group leaves the Cathedral and sets down the road *
Elena Firavanti
"It seems to work for our purposes that we travel together," Elena says, feeling that this group, at the very least, would not try to interfere with her goals. "I find myself compelled to travel to Drakkenheim. The future of the family I serve is there or so I am told. It will be a perilous journey, there is no doubt about that. The stories and rumours I've heard on the road up here seem to be drawn from the deepest and darkest nightmares. But perhaps Ser Lando, we should at least wait until the next day before traveling?" She adds the last remark to Lando's disappearing back.
"Ser Lando, was it? over there? I can see you're trying to hurry us out of here. A couple of us just got here and we here there are some nice inns around. Can we please stop by for at least a drink and a hearty rest?" " I think several of us would appreciate that. " "Thank you."
But ofcourse, *grinding his teeth silently* whatever the needs of my nee companions. We shall do our best to go wherever we need to to prepare you for your travels.
No sense in creating strife before a long journey. However I insist we get to know one another a bit better. I suggest a game.
Ill ask each of you 3 questions and you can choose 1 of them to answer and the other two to ignore and in return you can ask the same of me.
Moksad, Lady Elena? Do you want to play a game?
*tilting his head forward looking over his glasses with a smirk*
"ooh ser Lando! I love games!"
The sun long has set, and the party, most of them hankering for rest and refreshment, makes their way down the hill which the Cathedral of Saint Rosalind sits atop, down the muddy streets and across the boardwalks to the Dry District. The slums and ramshackle houses on stilts quickly give way here to far nicer townhomes of cedar and stone, a wealthier section of town a much farther distance from the belch of the collieries in the hills to the east.
Asking around a bit, they find the Gavel and Gauntlet on Chisel Street. The lamps are lit and a fire blazes in the fireplace as they enter. Already numerous people are seated at the bars and the various tables, most of them looking to be the artisanal sort, blacksmiths and wheelwrights and cobblers and carpenters and the like. Not one person in this establishment looks like a miner, and Hannah knows that the miners, as poorly off as they are (and many of them suffering from odd illnesses and growths in recent years), can't really afford the prices, or the social strata, at this particular tavern.
A barmaid comes up with a cheery smile to take orders as the whole party finds a seat. "Travellers, ay? Looking a mite restless, there, handsome," she smiles at Lando. Yvara, at his side, merely gives the serving wench a look, which she seems not to notice. "What can I get you all? We've got pork pie and slug skewers fresh tonight, and some pickled eggs if you fancy. And any that you'd like of ale and spirits, of course."
Moksad,
first question. what is your greatest physical fear, some that if you saw would strike fear in your heart?
second question. What gods do you serve, surely being from elsewhere you have your own belief system?
third question. Would you kill for the right price. Im not talking just money, although if that lights your flame than so be it. But im also talking morals, is there an act or offensive grace enough that would cause you to seek the death of another being?
Be honest with me now
" To the first question: Squirming, roving, appendages I once saw coming from a strange and apparently what you refer to as contaminated dog. I believe I heard one of our more well travelled elders refer to the appendages as 'tentacles.'"
"To the second question: To me, I serve that which exists around us. Our matrons at our village are Danu and Arwyn. We often use human idols to represent them, but right now we rest comfortably on the very surface that is Danu and we look up to Arwyn as the largest object in the night sky. We also worship other beings including the brightest being of our every day Lugh."
"To the third question: what a dreadful thought that such a question should be asked of me at this period of still relative youth in my life! I would not consider murder for some kind of profit, but if one were to hurt people I care about I would go burn through the hells for them."
Very interesting, and for the second part you may ask one question of me.
your faith is particularly interesting.
you there bar maid, a round of ale for my companions. To those who partake
Elena Firavanti
Elena frowns at Lando. "You can play your game, if you wish," she says after ordering a glass of wine for herself. "But if there's something you wish to know about me, the courteous and lordly thing to do is just speak and ask plainly." Of course, the Libero idea of speaking plainly involved a lot of subterfuge but something about making it in a game rubbed Elena the wrong way.
Roman Silverstar
Sitting at the table across with the rest a the party. "A wine for me too, please" He says to the barmaid. Turning to Elina "Pardon M'lord, Lady Elena. The road to has been long and we have kept to ourselves for much of it. We often would play word games to help pass the time." giving her a foppish grin "Perhaps it has become a bit of a habit." The barmaid returns with the a pair of glasses of wine." Ah thank you" Raising his glass to the group "Let start's this adventure with a toast. Too new beginnings and new friends" As he speaks he raises his glass to Elena, Moksad, and Hannah "And to steadfast ones" Rinsing his glass to Lando and Yevra. "May we all find our Truths in Drakkenheim"
"ALE!"
*sneaking a sip before the toast*
To our truths! May we be forever guided by watchful eye of the fire!
Hannah sipped at her ale (she would have preferred tea but thought it impolite to refuse the ale offered to her) and looked around at her new group of…colleagues? Compatriots? Comrades? For one used to the dourness of Westemarians, and especially Todesfelders, she found herself quite absorbed with the bravado of the Illyrians, the haughtiness of the Liberioso, and the gregariousness of the Walderman. As the conversation swayed back and forth and from topic to topic, Hannah’s methodical mind was continuing to process all the implications of her newfound resolution to travel with this group of foreigners to the Haunted City. Her material possessions were easily disposed of: the majority of them would fit neatly in her pack. Should she seek some type of armor? No, she didn’t know the first thing about buying, wearing, or maintaining the stuff, and she theorized that her physiology was tough enough without further need of things like leather or chain. Did she have enough alchemical materials for the journey? She was running low on electrum shavings after catalyzing the last batch of serum for Emmerich….
Emmerich! She shot up from her chair and quickly scrambled to keep from knocking over her own stein of ale. (Sleight of Hand: 11+1=12). She set the stein down in the center of the table and used her sleeve to wipe up the ale that had slopped onto the table.
”I’m sorry, I have just recalled an important appointment. I must go now, but I shall meet you all here in the common room tomorrow morning, and we shall depart, yes?”
Hannah hastily makes her exit, leaving the others wondering, but warm-hearted and in good spirits as they relax with ale and wine. They tell stories long into the night, sometimes laughing with ease, at other times with wary glances at individuals so different from themselves. As the night wanes on, each are able to procure rooms to their liking, whether alone or shared, and each of them sleep a deep and dreamless sleep, as if to escape for a moment the danger and uncertainty of the path forward.
Dawn comes early in Highsummer, and the party is up with first light and making ready to leave Todesfeld, saddling their horses and packing their bags. Low clouds sit over Todesfeld, and mist hangs in the street. It's a dreary start to the next leg of their journey, but the party follows the main street without trouble. They make a brief stop at Saint Rosalind's Cathedral, where High Flamekeeper Irma welcomes them to her morning prayers at the brazier and gives them her blessing. It's the Feast of Saint Puriphon today, a saint obscure enough that not even Irma is sure who he is. The party rides on out of Todesfeld without incident.
It's a few days west to Glothfen, the last large town before the long road through the Achtungwald to Altbruke. The party resupplies their rations before they set out. Highsummer is hot and muggy, and the road winding through the deep forests of pine and fir provide welcome shade. It takes about 5 weeks of travel for the party to reach Altbruke, which they arrive at on the new moon on 11 Midyear, where they are able to stay in far nicer accomodations than has been their lot in the hostels and chapels and the occasional farmhouse that littered the main road through the forest. Although in the heat of summer the work in the fields and farms is heavy, Altbruke still has a constant stream of think tanks and interesting lectures going on at its University, which, if any of the party have any interest, they might attend a few.
In Altbruke, they quickly learn that merchant caravans routinely leave from here to Emberwood Village, the supply village for those venturing into the ruined capital. It isn't difficult for them to find a small caravan of trade goods and food supplies to travel with, although they are warned by the foreman of the party, a man with cropped, wavy grey hair and a short patch of beard named Danore Nellynthar, to bring plenty of water and feed for their mounts during the journey, as a hundred miles out from Drakkenheim, everything ceases to grow, and there is no grazing whatsoever. The party accompanies three well-loaded covered supply wagons pulled by draft teams and driven by Danore and his two sons, and those of the party on foot are offered a spot to ride in the wagons, although it's somewhat uncomfortable jammed between barrels and boxes.
They pass through many villages and even a small town or two along the way during the first part of the journey, refilling water barrels and picking up supplies as needed. Danore recognizes and calls out to just about everyone the party sees in the town. But the villages quickly become more scarce, and the caravan and the party are left many nights camping out under the stars and cooking their rations on open campfires. Danore makes sure to picket all the animals out each night to eat grass, encourging the party to conserve their feed for the days ahead, and he invites each of them to tell their tale around the campfire. He shares his own and that of his two sons. He was a ratcatcher by trade, but since the civil war ended, word had quickly traveled that there was a lot of money to be made in hauling supplies to Emberwood village. "It's a dangerous business, of course," Danore says amiably, "there's bandits on these roads once we get closer to the ruins. That's why I always like to travel in as large of a group as possible... it tends to deter them." Elena notes the golden skin and light sea-grey eyes of Danore and his two sons, as well as their light step and unusually keen perception, and wonders if they don't also have some elven blood in their ancestry.
After two weeks travelling on the road, the countryside turns dreary and desaturated. The caravan passes many abandoned villages with dilapidated homes, crumbling farmsteads with sallow empty fields, and forests of dead trees. Thorny brambles and harsh scrubgrass are all that grow along the mud-slick road. Drizzling rain fills most days, and the wind howls at night. Aside from the creaking wagon wheels, you only hear the cawing of crows. Danore now ties the horses up at night with feedbags. "Better they don't try to eat anything that's still growing here," he says. "It's... well, poisoned."
The last week of travel is terribly unpleasant. Danore and his sons sing and play around the fire each night, intentionally to push back the oppressiveness of the dead land around them. One son has a lute, and all of them have pleasing bass voices. They do their best to keep everyone's spirits up, and encourage Elena to join in their songs with her viol. They are encourging of Lando, Roman, and Yvara to lead some chants and prayers, being followers of the Sacred Flame themselves. "The Flame is our light in the darkness of Drakkenheim," Danore says. They don't have much to say about the Falling Fire or Lucretia, should those topics come up, but it's clear they find the extreme renunciation of that sect somewhat ridiculous.
1 Sunbreak, 1126
At last, after thundering across a wide bridge that crosses the Drann River a few miles south of Drakkenheim, the caravan arrives early in the afternoon at Emberwood Village, a humble crossroads along Champion’s Way surrounded by forsaken farmsteads and dark pine forests. Many residences are abandoned and slowly deteriorating with their windows and doors nailed shut. However, the village centre is alive with activity. Conversation, laughter, and music resound from several taverns along the main thoroughfare. Amidst a bustling market square, a small crowd of adventurers, merchants, and prospectors busily traffic all manner of weapons, equipment, coins, recovered treasures, and a few strange glimmering crystals. Even the light of the Sacred Flame still glows within the modest stone chapel at the heart of town.
"Well," Danore says appreciately, "we made it. Come and find me in the market centre after my boys and I get set up, I'll introduce you to my friend Armin Gainsbury, he's got some good equipment for adventurers into the ruins. If you need a place to relax and get a good meal, check out the Bark and Buzzard tavern. Karin Alsberg is the owner there, and can set you up in one of the abandoned houses if you need lodging. There's also the Red Lion Hotel, up on that hill north of town, by the Emberwash stream. It's expensive, but you'll get great service there, and tell you the truth, everything in Emberwood village is expensive." With a wry grin he salutes the adventures. "Thanks for your company. Best of luck to you in the ruins!" He and his sons cluck to their teams and the caravans rattle off towards the market centre.
Moksad
Before Hannah leaves:
" OK we look forward to meeting you in the common area tomorrow! Best of luck"
continues drinking and talking before the story catches up with everyone in Emberwood Village.
Moksad:
"Hey fellow travelers, mayhaps we should stock up on necessary procurements and wares- and perhaps upgrades to things we have if we have (I believe its) the coin!" "Maybe we should rest from our travel as well"