" Alright, we have our slave animals. Does anyone need to make anymore preparations? I admit to being unsure about this course but now that we have set up on it I'd rather not delay."
Randa looked at each of her companions in turn. " Ready?"
Most of her recent travels had been with Riven and with his sudden departure she felt a little discombobulated...
Vazo'yn steps forward with their gathered gold in a pouch and extends it out to Tulk with an appreciative nod of his head.
"Thank you for your help, Tulk. It won't be forgotten. Hopefully one day, once our task is done, we will be back this way and I'll tell you about how your help changed the world."
It perhaps sounds like a lofty, self-important vow, but it is said earnestly with complete honesty and certainty that what they are setting off to do will be world-changing.
Tulk collects his coin from both the Fellowship and Ayo, then pulls in Brod to put in a good word for you and ask for the favor he offered previously. After a bit of back and forth, it is agreed upon to give you nearly the at-cost discount offered to the close-knit men and women of trade in Jigow. You and Ayo are each owners of your very own sturdy, if not glamorous wagon.
Tulk jams two fingers into his mouth and whistles hard enough to ring your ears. The Fellowship hears thunder in the distance. No, not actual thunder, but very nearly. Instead, it is a thunderous galloping owned by a horse that is heard long before they are seen. Breaking the nearby hillside is a towering horse of deep chestnut brown with black feathering socks and a white mouth. While it is not the tallest horse some of you have ever seen, it is still quite tall at 6 ft at the shoulder, and wide, with a girth that would make it suitable as a mount for a goliath.
As the mighty beast comes to a trot and stops at the gate, it looks at the Fellowship with curious dark eyes. “This is Rumble. He is one of my best. From a line of draft horses that only very recently were of warhorse stock. My great grandfather rescued some from the Dwendalian Empire’s many wars and gave them a peaceful life. If your questing takes you through danger, you will want Rumble here. He doesn’t scare, is smart as a whip, and can quite easily pull you out of whatever trouble you end up getting yourself into. His is a gentle breed now that his family isn’t made to war, but he will get a bit ornery if you don’t give him what he likes, which is stories. I hope you have many to share because tales of adventure are his favorites.”
Rumble looks to each of the Fellowship, nodding his head slightly as if in agreement. “I’ll show you how to adjust the wagon harness to fit him. Rumble’s a bit wide in the chest, you see. Normal harnesses don’t fit.” Rumble’s response is to hold his head high at the unintentional praise.
“And for you,” Tulk says to Ayo. “My finest mules! Hee and Haw.” Two mules break from the herd and meander over to the edge of the gate, eyes closed against the sun. “They are jokesters and might tease you a bit, but they are good mules and will work hard for you if you spoil them once in a while with apples and carrots and such.”
Hee haws at the comment, demanding an apple at the mention of it. Haw hangs his head, passively waiting for reward.
Both parties are fitted with their mounts and the day is theirs.
OOC: Merek will offer all he has, 5gp.
Merek Attiga - Level 4 Human Wizard - Call of the Netherdeep
" Alright, we have our slave animals. Does anyone need to make anymore preparations? I admit to being unsure about this course but now that we have set up on it I'd rather not delay."
Randa looked at each of her companions in turn. " Ready?"
Most of her recent travels had been with Riven and with his sudden departure she felt a little discombobulated...
Vazo'yn steps forward with their gathered gold in a pouch and extends it out to Tulk with an appreciative nod of his head.
"Thank you for your help, Tulk. It won't be forgotten. Hopefully one day, once our task is done, we will be back this way and I'll tell you about how your help changed the world."
It perhaps sounds like a lofty, self-important vow, but it is said earnestly with complete honesty and certainty that what they are setting off to do will be world-changing.
Tulk collects his coin from both the Fellowship and Ayo, then pulls in Brod to put in a good word for you and ask for the favor he offered previously. After a bit of back and forth, it is agreed upon to give you nearly the at-cost discount offered to the close-knit men and women of trade in Jigow. You and Ayo are each owners of your very own sturdy, if not glamorous wagon.
Tulk jams two fingers into his mouth and whistles hard enough to ring your ears. The Fellowship hears thunder in the distance. No, not actual thunder, but very nearly. Instead, it is a thunderous galloping owned by a horse that is heard long before they are seen. Breaking the nearby hillside is a towering horse of deep chestnut brown with black feathering socks and a white mouth. While it is not the tallest horse some of you have ever seen, it is still quite tall at 6 ft at the shoulder, and wide, with a girth that would make it suitable as a mount for a goliath.
As the mighty beast comes to a trot and stops at the gate, it looks at the Fellowship with curious dark eyes. “This is Rumble. He is one of my best. From a line of draft horses that only very recently were of warhorse stock. My great grandfather rescued some from the Dwendalian Empire’s many wars and gave them a peaceful life. If your questing takes you through danger, you will want Rumble here. He doesn’t scare, is smart as a whip, and can quite easily pull you out of whatever trouble you end up getting yourself into. His is a gentle breed now that his family isn’t made to war, but he will get a bit ornery if you don’t give him what he likes, which is stories. I hope you have many to share because tales of adventure are his favorites.”
Rumble looks to each of the Fellowship, nodding his head slightly as if in agreement. “I’ll show you how to adjust the wagon harness to fit him. Rumble’s a bit wide in the chest, you see. Normal harnesses don’t fit.” Rumble’s response is to hold his head high at the unintentional praise.
“And for you,” Tulk says to Ayo. “My finest mules! Hee and Haw.” Two mules break from the herd and meander over to the edge of the gate, eyes closed against the sun. “They are jokesters and might tease you a bit, but they are good mules and will work hard for you if you spoil them once in a while with apples and carrots and such.”
Hee haws at the comment, demanding an apple at the mention of it. Haw hangs his head, passively waiting for reward.
Both parties are fitted with their mounts and the day is theirs.
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