Adventure in Dan-thurás

Quote from Balthoran >>

Flins exits his room and goes to eat breakfast

 Sadly, Peregrine Joe’s schedule doesn’t allow for a meal at the Copper Kettle (his planned departure at 5 and breakfast not served until 6); is Flins nosing around in the kitchen for food or seeking out Joe, or does he have some food of his own?

Quote from Naiya_Varma >>

Lethira slips from the Copper Kettle without drawing notice, stepping into the night. The path to the river is easy to follow, and she doesn’t rush. At the bend they’ve taken to calling Blackwater, she pauses, then lowers herself to one knee at the edge, her gaze resting on the surface. The current moves cleanly, steady, unbroken, carrying on as it should. She listens anyway. A moment passes. Then another. For an instant, the surface stills, then it’s gone, the flow returning and moving without resistance, as though nothing had resisted at all. Lethira watches a moment longer, her expression unchanged. “Good,” she says softly, the word not carrying far. She remains only long enough to be certain, then rises, brushing her hands clean. There’s nothing here that needs her. The current is moving. That’s enough.

 I presume Lethira is a guest of Evelyn’s, so there’s probably a spare bedroom where she’s been residing while in town. When does she check the river—is it late at night, or very early in the morning, or both?

Quote from MrDicestone55 >>

Quote from Balthoran >>

Flins exits his room and goes to eat breakfast

 Sadly, Peregrine Joe’s schedule doesn’t allow for a meal at the Copper Kettle (his planned departure at 5 and breakfast not served until 6); is Flins nosing around in the kitchen for food or seeking out Joe?

 Flins will seek out joe

Quote from 50thAltOfBananer >>

Kayn has probably been sleeping outside, which isn't comfy, but saves him money. 

 Yeah, the Copper Kettle is the more expensive of the inns; better quality, and prices to reflect it. Has he just been sleeping on the ground, in a wagon, the livery, or somewhere else?

*Despite his apparent revenue as a merchant, Peregrine Joe has no permanent residence in Cairdell, and often sleeps in the hayloft of whatever livery is in the town he’s visiting*

*I presume this is around 6, or just before. Peregrine Joe is currently at Honest Joe’s Provisions, discussing the supplies that will be brought; invoices, payment terms, etc. The store proper isn’t technically open for customers yet, but Flins and the crew can purchase any equipment they might need from here anyway.

Any nonmagical gear (no armor, weapons, or chemicals, but ammo like arrows and bolts are here) that costs 25 gold or less can be had here*

(I assume the group is arriving in ones and twos but at around the same time; finding out where Joe is is trivial)

The streets of Cairdell are dim and quiet as the sun is barely awake, as are most of the townsfolk. Thin wisps of cooking-smoke blend with the mist from the river not a quarter of a mile away. Most of the buildings are dark, with no signs of activity, but one near the town square emanates a golden square of candlelight onto the packed dirt street. A covered wagon with two stout horses and a donkey are waiting outside, hitched to a post. Even in the early morning light, the wagon has a distinctive blue emblem painted on the side that stands out from the gloom.

Quote from MrDicestone55 >>

Quote from Naiya_Varma >>

Lethira slips from the Copper Kettle without drawing notice, stepping into the night. The path to the river is easy to follow, and she doesn’t rush. At the bend they’ve taken to calling Blackwater, she pauses, then lowers herself to one knee at the edge, her gaze resting on the surface. The current moves cleanly, steady, unbroken, carrying on as it should. She listens anyway. A moment passes. Then another. For an instant, the surface stills, then it’s gone, the flow returning and moving without resistance, as though nothing had resisted at all. Lethira watches a moment longer, her expression unchanged. “Good,” she says softly, the word not carrying far. She remains only long enough to be certain, then rises, brushing her hands clean. There’s nothing here that needs her. The current is moving. That’s enough.

 I presume Lethira is a guest of Evelyn’s, so there’s probably a spare bedroom where she’s been residing while in town. When does she check the river—is it late at night, or very early in the morning, or both?

Lethira slips from the Copper Kettle without drawing notice, stepping into the night. The path to the river is easy to follow, and she doesn’t rush. At the bend they’ve taken to calling Blackwater, she pauses, then lowers herself to one knee at the edge, her gaze resting on the surface. The current moves cleanly, steady, unbroken, carrying on as it should. She listens anyway. A moment passes. Then another. For an instant, the surface stills, then it’s gone, the flow returning and moving without resistance, as though nothing had resisted at all. Lethira watches a moment longer, her expression unchanged. “Good,” she says softly, the word not carrying far. She remains only long enough to be certain, then rises, brushing her hands clean. There’s nothing here that needs her. The current is moving. She remains only long enough to be certain, then rises, brushing her hands clean. There’s nothing here that needs her. She returns to the Copper Kettle the same way she left it, quietly. Evelyn has made space for her, and she accepts it without ceremony: a small room, more utilitarian offering a cot and a corner to place her belongings. Before the first light, she wakes again, not from habit, but because something in the world is shifting toward morning, and returns once more to the river. The current holds this time, no hesitation, no pause. By the time Cairdell begins to stir, Lethira is already on her feet, ready for the road.

Quote from MrDicestone55 >>

(I assume the group is arriving in ones and twos but at around the same time; finding out where Joe is is trivial)

The streets of Cairdell are dim and quiet as the sun is barely awake, as are most of the townsfolk. Thin wisps of cooking-smoke blend with the mist from the river not a quarter of a mile away. Most of the buildings are dark, with no signs of activity, but one near the town square emanates a golden square of candlelight onto the packed dirt street. A covered wagon with two stout horses and a donkey are waiting outside, hitched to a post. Even in the early morning light, the wagon has a distinctive blue emblem painted on the side that stands out from the gloom.

 Flins looks at Joe and asks "How much will you pay me to help ensure the safety of your goods?"

Quote from MrDicestone55 >>

Quote from 50thAltOfBananer >>

Kayn has probably been sleeping outside, which isn't comfy, but saves him money. 

 Yeah, the Copper Kettle is the more expensive of the inns; better quality, and prices to reflect it. Has he just been sleeping on the ground, in a wagon, the livery, or somewhere else?

*Despite his apparent revenue as a merchant, Peregrine Joe has no permanent residence in Cairdell, and often sleeps in the hayloft of whatever livery is in the town he’s visiting*

 Ground, but he has a bedroll. 

Quote from Balthoran >>

 

Quote from MrDicestone55 >>

(I assume the group is arriving in ones and twos but at around the same time; finding out where Joe is is trivial)

The streets of Cairdell are dim and quiet as the sun is barely awake, as are most of the townsfolk. Thin wisps of cooking-smoke blend with the mist from the river not a quarter of a mile away. Most of the buildings are dark, with no signs of activity, but one near the town square emanates a golden square of candlelight onto the packed dirt street. A covered wagon with two stout horses and a donkey are waiting outside, hitched to a post. Even in the early morning light, the wagon has a distinctive blue emblem painted on the side that stands out from the gloom.

 Flins looks at Joe and asks "How much will you pay me to help ensure the safety of your goods?"

 Joe is perusing some papers with another man who is almost his twin, the grocer whose name is apparently also Joe. The hooded Joe tosses a strange pastry to Flins. (I presume Flins catches it) It is soothingly warm and has seductive aromas of turmeric and paprika. “Mughalaf,” Joe says as way of explanation. “I presume you found some friends?” He asked, parrying the inquiry.

Quote from MrDicestone55 >>

Quote from Balthoran >>

 

Quote from MrDicestone55 >>

(I assume the group is arriving in ones and twos but at around the same time; finding out where Joe is is trivial)

The streets of Cairdell are dim and quiet as the sun is barely awake, as are most of the townsfolk. Thin wisps of cooking-smoke blend with the mist from the river not a quarter of a mile away. Most of the buildings are dark, with no signs of activity, but one near the town square emanates a golden square of candlelight onto the packed dirt street. A covered wagon with two stout horses and a donkey are waiting outside, hitched to a post. Even in the early morning light, the wagon has a distinctive blue emblem painted on the side that stands out from the gloom.

 Flins looks at Joe and asks "How much will you pay me to help ensure the safety of your goods?"

 Joe is perusing some papers with another man who is almost his twin, the grocer whose name is apparently also Joe. The hooded Joe tosses a strange pastry to Flins. (I presume Flins catches it) It is soothingly warm and has seductive aromas of turmeric and paprika. “Mughalaf,” Joe says as way of explanation. “I presume you found some friends?” He asked, parrying the inquiry.

 "No but I'm sure it wouldn't be too hard for a charming merchant such as yourself to find a few more hired hands?" Flins replied calmly

Lethira moves through the quiet of Cairdell as the day begins to gather unfold. Smoke and river mist hang lightly in the air, as she gazes toward the square finding the one place already awake. “Joe doesn’t wait,” she says, easy, almost to herself. She approaches the wagon at a measured pace, her attention moving first to the horses, their stance, their breath in the cool air, before settling on the wagon itself. Her hand rests briefly along the wood, then stills at the painted blue emblem. She studies it a moment, not long, just enough. A small pause as she shakes her head follows. “That’ll make you easier to find.” Her hand falls away as her stares off towards the road leading out of Cairdell, then back again. “Everything looks in order.” Turning toward the building where the candlelight spills out on the street, she steps inside without ceremony, her eyes adjusting to the candle light as she looks for Joe, and anyone else who may have been an earlier riser than she.

Quote from Naiya_Varma >>

Lethira moves through the quiet of Cairdell as the day begins to gather unfold. Smoke and river mist hang lightly in the air, as she gazes toward the square finding the one place already awake. “Joe doesn’t wait,” she says, easy, almost to herself. She approaches the wagon at a measured pace, her attention moving first to the horses, their stance, their breath in the cool air, before settling on the wagon itself. Her hand rests briefly along the wood, then stills at the painted blue emblem. She studies it a moment, not long, just enough. A small pause as she shakes her head follows. “That’ll make you easier to find.” Her hand falls away as her stares off towards the road leading out of Cairdell, then back again. “Everything looks in order.” Turning toward the building where the candlelight spills out on the street, she steps inside without ceremony, her eyes adjusting to the candle light as she looks for Joe, and anyone else who may have been an earlier riser than she.

 She steps into the general store, Honest Joe’s Provisions. Inside, the store is mostly dark, but in one corner of the expanse of shelves, barrels, and crates, is a desk that serves as the store’s office. Beside is an open door, with stairs leading to the upper floor, and by the desk are two men with brown beards; one clad in blue, the other in a plain outfit and a heavy green apron (most likely Honest Joe); perusing some papers by candle light. Flins is standing nearby. Lethira just catches Flins’ response to a question Peregrine Joe apparently asked. At the creak of the door, Joe in blue looks up, and says to Flins, “You’re not wrong,” winking at Lethira. He tosses her a strange pastry, and perhaps notices that Flins has something similar. “But you asked about money; how does 15 gold sound?”

Quote from 50thAltOfBananer >>

Quote from MrDicestone55 >>

Quote from 50thAltOfBananer >>

Kayn has probably been sleeping outside, which isn't comfy, but saves him money. 

 Yeah, the Copper Kettle is the more expensive of the inns; better quality, and prices to reflect it. Has he just been sleeping on the ground, in a wagon, the livery, or somewhere else?

*Despite his apparent revenue as a merchant, Peregrine Joe has no permanent residence in Cairdell, and often sleeps in the hayloft of whatever livery is in the town he’s visiting*

 Ground, but he has a bedroll. 

 *So not a great night’s sleep, but it’s a night’s sleep, and I guess the sun, the candlelight, or the sounds of Joe, Flins, Lethira, or the pack animals awakens Kayn?

Quote from MrDicestone55 >>

Quote from Naiya_Varma >>

Lethira moves through the quiet of Cairdell as the day begins to gather unfold. Smoke and river mist hang lightly in the air, as she gazes toward the square finding the one place already awake. “Joe doesn’t wait,” she says, easy, almost to herself. She approaches the wagon at a measured pace, her attention moving first to the horses, their stance, their breath in the cool air, before settling on the wagon itself. Her hand rests briefly along the wood, then stills at the painted blue emblem. She studies it a moment, not long, just enough. A small pause as she shakes her head follows. “That’ll make you easier to find.” Her hand falls away as her stares off towards the road leading out of Cairdell, then back again. “Everything looks in order.” Turning toward the building where the candlelight spills out on the street, she steps inside without ceremony, her eyes adjusting to the candle light as she looks for Joe, and anyone else who may have been an earlier riser than she.

 She steps into the general store, Honest Joe’s Provisions. Inside, the store is mostly dark, but in one corner of the expanse of shelves, barrels, and crates, is a desk that serves as the store’s office. Beside is an open door, with stairs leading to the upper floor, and by the desk are two men with brown beards; one clad in blue, the other in a plain outfit and a heavy green apron (most likely Honest Joe); perusing some papers by candle light. Flins is standing nearby. Lethira just catches Flins’ response to a question Peregrine Joe apparently asked. At the creak of the door, Joe in blue looks up, and says to Flins, “You’re not wrong,” winking at Lethira. He tosses her a strange pastry, and perhaps notices that Flins has something similar. “But you asked about money; how does 15 gold sound?”

 "That is sufficient but should we run into more trouble than you are expecting I will request for higher pay" Flins replied

Lethira catches the pastry without looking down, more by timing than effort, then turns it once in her hand as though deciding what to make of it. She lets the room settle before she speaks, her attention moving briefly over the desk of scattered papers, then to Joe and Flins. She turns the pastry once in her hand, then sets it aside without much thought. “You were in the Kettle last night,” she says to Flins, her tone even. Her gaze rests on him a moment longer. “You seem to find your way into things with Mia quickly.” She leaves it there, no judgment, just acknowledgment, before shifting her attention back to Joe. “That mark on the wagon,” she says, “Who’s it meant for?” She looks back toward the doorway, not questioning so much as stating what she’s seen. “And how widely is that known?”

Quote from Naiya_Varma >>

“That mark on the wagon,” she says, “Who’s it meant for?” She looks back toward the doorway, not questioning so much as stating what she’s seen. “And how widely is that known?”

 “It’s my mark, of course. I may be a lone traveling merchant, but I’m not a lonely one,” Joe answers plainly. “It’s a Treduine emblem; it means ‘Wanderer.’ (*The symbol is a circle, with what appears to be outstretched bird wings*) Supposed to be for good luck to travelers. I’ve spent plenty of time on the Steppes, though I don’t think many beyond them know what it means. Some say it’s a falcon, so that’s why they call me Peregrine Joe. Keeps me separate from this guy,” he adds jokingly, jovially elbowing Joe Green.

He notices Lethira’s confused gaze at the pastry. “It’s mughalaf—a wrap of meat or rice and cheese.”

The other Joe adds, “My wife made them; she made them with cheese, eggs, potatoes, bacon, mushrooms, and axe beak sausage. I think Joe’s a bit of an odd duck, but he’s an interesting one.”

Quote from Balthoran >>

Quote from MrDicestone55 >>

Quote from Naiya_Varma >>

Lethira moves through the quiet of Cairdell as the day begins to gather unfold. Smoke and river mist hang lightly in the air, as she gazes toward the square finding the one place already awake. “Joe doesn’t wait,” she says, easy, almost to herself. She approaches the wagon at a measured pace, her attention moving first to the horses, their stance, their breath in the cool air, before settling on the wagon itself. Her hand rests briefly along the wood, then stills at the painted blue emblem. She studies it a moment, not long, just enough. A small pause as she shakes her head follows. “That’ll make you easier to find.” Her hand falls away as her stares off towards the road leading out of Cairdell, then back again. “Everything looks in order.” Turning toward the building where the candlelight spills out on the street, she steps inside without ceremony, her eyes adjusting to the candle light as she looks for Joe, and anyone else who may have been an earlier riser than she.

 She steps into the general store, Honest Joe’s Provisions. Inside, the store is mostly dark, but in one corner of the expanse of shelves, barrels, and crates, is a desk that serves as the store’s office. Beside is an open door, with stairs leading to the upper floor, and by the desk are two men with brown beards; one clad in blue, the other in a plain outfit and a heavy green apron (most likely Honest Joe); perusing some papers by candle light. Flins is standing nearby. Lethira just catches Flins’ response to a question Peregrine Joe apparently asked. At the creak of the door, Joe in blue looks up, and says to Flins, “You’re not wrong,” winking at Lethira. He tosses her a strange pastry, and perhaps notices that Flins has something similar. “But you asked about money; how does 15 gold sound?”

 "That is sufficient but should we run into more trouble than you are expecting I will request for higher pay" Flins replied

 He wrinkles his brow, and says, “Fair enough; just so I don’t have to replace my cart. Damned hellspawn from the insurance company barely covered my last accident.”

Lethira listens without interrupting, her attention steady on Joe as he explains the mark. She gives a small nod when he finishes. “A wanderer,” she says quietly. “That fits.” Her gaze lingers a moment, then settles. “If most don’t recognize it, it won’t draw attention on its own.” A brief pause follows. “That helps.” She lets the thought continue before adding, just as evenly, “If someone did take it for a shipment mark, it might explain yesterday.” She leaves it there, without another thought. Her attention shifts briefly to the pastry as it’s explained; she glances down, then back up, giving a small nod. “I see.” A faint hint of a smile touches her expression before she looks to the other man and inclines her head. “It’s well made.” Then she becomes quiet, attentive, as though nothing further needed saying.

“Perhaps,” Joe muses. “But I’m inclined to think that my reputation precedes me, and what with my exotic wares…” He leaves the last part of his sentence unsaid but understood. “Besides, I think it’s the same group of bandits that have been troubling me; one of their ringleaders is a tall lass with black hair and knee-high boots. Most of them are probably local brigands, though.” He looks slightly at Flins but says nothing.