Hoard of the Dragon Queen [IC. 2014 rules]

"You can help me get the cart ready," Mara finally speaks, answering the druid. She heads toward the barn, beckoning Thistlewick to follow.

Inside, the barn is large enough for three horses and two carts, although only one horse and a small cart remain. The horse is a sturdy draft animal quietly munching on hay. The cart is a tight fit, but it will hold the entire party and Leosin if Amadeus and Thistlewick share the driver's bench.

"I'm sorry, my husband took the other two horses and the larger wagon," Mara says, leading the animal out of its stall. "This is Oats. He’s traveled the path to Greenest many times and knows the way by heart. Just don't let him stray off the field path to graze on the wheat, and he should get you there in no time."

She begins fitting the reins and harness with deft, practiced movements. "Oats is our working horse, and I am willing to send him off with you, even though I don't know you. But I need a favour in return. My husband, Adam, left for Greenest yesterday. He was meant to sell wool and yarn at the market today and return tomorrow. If what you say is true, he is in grave danger."

She pulls a strap tight, her hands trembling slightly. "When you arrive, please... check the town market. Find him and tell him to come home immediately."

Until now, Amadeus was content to remain quiet, let the others talk of honor and glory. Erstwhile, he palms the missive in his ruck and reviews negotiation parameters in his head, should a small disagreement break out before his official business is concluded. 

Upon mention of extra horses and a larger cart, the young man remembers. "Ah. Perchance, dear girl. Might you describe your husband? So we might find him with haste." In fact, his thoughts are of the two commoners he'd witnessed providing the camp with meat for gold. He doubts the men were either this 'Adam,' but it never hurts to be careful. It does, however, help that he'd taken the time, whilst the others were preoccupied freeing captives, to study those men close. 

If he can find them, they may yet provide clues as of yet unknown, as well as knowledge of local families he may yet discover... regardless, until he can discern more, he does not disclose his intentions with the others. 

Mara startles, not realizing the sorcerer had followed her and Thistlewick into the barn.

"Adam? Well... he has a bit of a beer belly, and he always wears a bright red hat when he goes to the market. It is a rather silly thing, but he calls it his 'lucky hat' for finding customers."

She goes on to describe a middle-aged farmer who bears no resemblance to the lean, weathered hunters Amadeus observed at the raider camp earlier that morning. However, in a town like Greenest, market days are bustling with many stalls and travelling merchants. The possibility of hunters bringing game to sell is high. 

Draylin 

With a thoughtful look, Draylin addresses the escapees and their kind hostess.  "If we found this place it is very possible that the raiders will also.  May I suggest that we all travel to Greenest together.  Surely you will all be safer in the town."

Tam jots down the information in her notebook, even going so far as to making a little sketch as best as she can.

The old woman thinks for a moment and shakes her head firmly. "We will only slow you down. Get to Greenest to help however you can, we are going to hide in the cellar. I'm sure we'll be okay."

Mara leads Oats and the cart outside the barn and hands the reins to Thistlewick and Amadeus. "Please send my man back home alive." she says quietly, glancing back at the little girl. As if in agreement, Oats lets out a heavy, vibrating snort, tossing his head.

Montar continues to stay quiet, but he's ready to leave whenever everyone else, having not needed to take a short rest.

Draylin

Draylin looks at the elderly woman and makes no effort to mask his concern.  Twice he opened his mouth, and twice he closed it again.  

The wispy edges of memory, like shadow flirting with the last rays of dying light, crept into his mind unbidden.  To react is to be controlled by outside events.  To react is to be forever at the mercy of the winds of fate; a slave to raw emotion.  To act; this is a different matter.  To act, one must pause to consider all factors.  He who acts, controls his mind and body.  He who acts controls his destiny.   The voice sounded so clearly in his ears that his own surprise broke the trance. 

With a quick side-eye glance at Leosin, the half elf drew a slow and steady breath, releasing it slowly.  "Within your home and land, you are the expert.  I confess that I fear for your safety, and wish for you to travel with us to Greenest, however, I must respect your wishes.  We will look for your husband, his bright red hat our guiding beacon," with that he offers the woman a graceful bow and begins to prepare for departure.  He offers Leosin a hand, easing his injured brother into a soft pile of hay to cushion the inevitable bumps in the road.  As they make ready to hit the road, he turns the woman once again to say, "Your gracious hospitality will not be forgotten, may the gods be with you."

***If enough time has elapsed, Draylin will make use of the short rest to use HD***

Amadeus gives more of an exaggerated bow to their gracious host than the monk, holding his right hand to his chest and splaying his left out his side, palm up. "We thank you for your assistance, good Lady." The gnome dips his head. "Alas, we must now be away. A village to warn, battles to upend, business to conclude!" With a flourish and a sweep, he climbs into the passenger's bench, placing his pack aside and resting his crossbow in his lap. 

Montar, not prone to grand displays, merely adds, "Thanks for the hospitality," before climbing into the cart. He draws his new crossbow once there, and keeps an eye out (perception +4) for any trouble.

Draylin 

When the procession gets moving Draylin will run out ahead of the group (80 or so feet) to scout for trouble.

****Perception: 21  ****

The horse seems to take an instant liking to Thistlewick's charms and sets an energetic pace, even switching to a canter where the dirt road permits. Luckily, the cart seems to be sturdy enough and doesn't lose a wheel, although it is far from a smooth ride for its occupants. Eventually, Oats settles into a more controlled trot, allowing everyone riding to relax for a bit.

Draylin's keen eyes scan the horizon. For miles there is nothing but the rolling grasslands. However, about halfway through the journey, a brief, unnatural shadow flickers across the ground. The monk glances up at the fast-moving clouds of a gathering storm... and then, for a split second, a different shape appears among them. It is far away, barely larger than a hawk at this distance, but there is something strange about it - it appears to be flying very fast, and its silhouette looks jagged and distorted. 

Before Draylin can point it out, the shape vanishes behind a dense group of clouds. It doesn't appear again and the rest of the journey passes just as before.

Finally, in the early afternoon, the group tops a final rise and the town of Greenest appears with a stream flowing past it, just a few short miles away. The town looks large and pleasant, the streets busy with figures that are little more than dots at this distance, moving about their daily lives. In the middle of the town, there appears to be a hill with an imposing stone building, perhaps a keep or a fortress. 

Draylin

***OoC: nature check to see if he could speculate as to its species of the flying thing:  7       Is the storm moving towards Greenest?***

Draylin can't identify the shape from that far. Perhaps a large bird? The clouds are moving towards Greenest and the surrounding area. 

The farm road eventually merges into the main trade road, and the pace slows. There is quite a bit of traffic moving in and out of the town, mostly traders and merchants drawn by the market day. The air is filled with the low lowing of oxen, the rattle of heavy wagons, and the impatient shouts of drivers. To any of these travellers, it is a prosperous, busy afternoon.

Having traveled this route many times, Oats begins to plod instinctively towards the market square, his ears flicking at the familiar sounds of the town, unless reined in another direction.

Beyond the hill with its imposing keep and the sprawling market, the party can see the rooftops of several taverns, a temple, and rows of established shops. The town was founded by the halfling Dharva Scatterheart, a rogue who once fancied herself the queen of the Greenfields. Although she passed away without ever achieving such eminence, her town grew into a thriving community. It is the only settlement of any real size astride the Uldoon Trail, serving as the vital artery between the eastern cities of the Dragon Coast and the great southern metropolises of Amn and Calimshan.

“The keep! That’s where we should go first. The defense of the town is the number one concern. Perhaps we should even split up. Some of us go to the keep and some into town to warn the guard stationed therein.” Tam seems agitated now that they have arrived in Greenest and she’s looking around, ready for danger. 

Draylin 

As the party draws near the town, Draylin drops back to walk alongside the wagon.  He then calls to Thistlewick, describing what he saw in the storm clouds.  "Never have I seen a bird so large or strangely shaped.  Any idea what it could have been?"

"You don't think it could be a dragon, do you?" Tam asks, gulping.

Draylin

The half elf shrugs at Tam's question. "Perhaps, I don't think many creatures could withstand a storm front like that without getting thrown around or battered from the sky."

At the mention of "dragon," Montar all but snarls. "Let's warn 'em with all haste."