In the city of Neverwinter, a dwarf named Gundren Rockseeker asked you to bring a wagonload of provisions to the rough-and-tumble settlement of Phandalin, a couple of days’ travel southeast of the city. Gundren was clearly excited and more than a little secretive about his reasons for the trip, saying only that he and his brothers had found “something big,” and that he’d pay you ten gold pieces each for escorting his supplies safely to Barthen’s Provisions, a trading post in Phandalin. He then set out ahead of you on horse, along with a human warrior escort named Sildar Hallwinter, claiming he needed to arrive early to “take care of business.”
The journey will take you south along the High Road to the Triboar Trail, which heads east towards Phandalin (as shown on the overland map). The trip should take about three days at the moderate pace of the wagon and two oxen. Any character can drive a wagon, and no particular skill is necessary. If no one is holding the reins, the oxen stop where they are. The wagon is packed full of an assortment of mining supplies and food. This includes a dozen sacks of flour, several casks of salted pork, two kegs of strong ale, shovels, picks, and crowbars (about a dozen each), and five lanterns with a small barrel of oil (about fifty flasks in volume).
============================================
Please take a few posts to introduce your character and get to know each other as your party heads down the High Road! I will need to know who is driving the cart and where everyone else is - riding shotgun(x1); riding on top of the cargo (up to 4); walking alongside or scouting ahead. Please indicate relative positions (i.e. riding on the left hand side facing forward, or scouting ahead between 60 and 120 feet on either side of the road, etc.)
If you don't mind, whenever your character is talking out loud, please "use quotation marks & bold the text". Choosing a color for your character's dialogue is optional but a fun way to set you apart! Private thoughts that you want to post can be in italics. (OOC: posts should be indicated like this.) Let's have some fun!
Tarin sits atop the supplies, perched comfortably on a barrel of salted pork as the wagon rocks and bumps over the trail. The short, lanky gnome dangles his legs over the side of the barrel as he smiles at Salty Joe and shakes his head, chuckling.
He continues to write in a leatherbound journal with hundreds of pages, chronicling his observations. "What a delightful and eclectic bunch these tallfolk are!" Tarin chirps to himself. Anyone catching a glimpse during the journey sees page upon page full of miniscule, meticulous, and careful handwriting and diagrams. "I can't wait to see what Gundren found — getting paid ten gold pieces just to go on a wagon ride is the easiest money I've ever made!"
Outside the wagon, a scruffy barn owl with dingy gray feathers that's been accompanying Tarin throughout the trip flaps around, scouting ahead about 60 feet in wide, swooping circles. Periodically it returns to groom itself, perching on Tarin's shoulders for a minute or two as he absentmindedly passes it a nibble of something from a pouch at his belt.
[OOC: The barn owl is Tarin's familiar, though absentminded Tarin hasn't thought to introduce it to the party, and he hasn't spoken out loud to it during the journey yet.]
Penumbra (a rather short tiefling woman with crimson skin, black hair, and pair of large bat-like wings) walks on the right side of the wagon. Though she is trying her best to hide it she is clearly in awe of the splendor of nature around her, it is obvious to anyone paying attention that she has never been this far from the city before.
Observing the owl Penumbra becomes curious and, in her rather uncharismatic way, says "Hey, you. Gnome, er… I mean, Tarin was it? What's with the owl? Don't get me wrong I'm rather fond of winged nocturnal things and all. I'm just askin' cause you look like you know some magic, and I was just wondering if its some kind of spell or like just a real pet owl?"
Observing the owl Penumbra becomes curious and, in her rather uncharismatic way, says "Hey, you. Gnome, er… I mean, Tarin was it? What's with the owl? Don't get me wrong I'm rather fond of winged nocturnal things and all. I'm just askin' cause you look like you know some magic, and I was just wondering if its some kind of spell or like just a real pet owl?"
Tarin smiles at the question, looking up from his scribblings long enough to make eye contact. He returns his gaze to the paper and continues, "Both! Cahoots takes many forms. But he most prefers this one." He raises his eyebrow for a moment, thinking. "Oh! But don't worry; he's very friendly, if you're worried about getting along with other, erm, winged friends."
Sitting in the drivers seat of the cart, controlling the oxen with a deft hand, Bankur takes a deep breath of the fresh air that seems so rare sometimes in a big city. "Keep an eye out while you're up there friend Tarin. Between you and your owl you should be able to scout ahead better than those of us on the ground."
Smiling knowingly at the look on Penumbra's face, Bankur says to her "This countryside is beautiful isn't it? So much better for the soul than being cooped up in a big city. I take it you haven't seen much of it?"
Penumbra turns a slightly darker shade of red. "Um, no. I've lived in Neverwinter my whole life." She says nervously. Then not wanting to appear helpless she quickly adds "But I'm no naive kid, I can handle myself. I've survived this long on the streets of the city with nothing but my wits, seen plenty of fights, and there are things in those sewers that would make Volo soil his pants!"
Bankur nods while listening to Penumbra, "The sewers of Neverwinter are no place to be trifled with for sure. No doubt my friend, no doubt. Say... you should join me on a sea voyage one day! If you think this landscape is beautiful, which it certainly is, you should see the ocean from the deck of a ship. Nothing compares to the beauty of the open sea. The rolling waves, the taste of salt in your mouth and nothing but the endless blue, blue water. Now that is true beauty my friend!"
Glancing up at the top of the wagon, Bankur says "You're invited too friend Tarin, but you may have to trade that owl for a gull! And with a name like Salty Joe the elf would fit right in on a ship I'd think... well, unless "Salty" has another meaning... Yes, yes, a voyage will be in order once this adventuring business is done! And every one of my new friends will receive an invitation!"
Bankur turns back in his seat with a wide grin and makes a slight adjustment to the cart's path, exuberant at the thought of a sea voyage with all of his "new friends".
Glancing up at the top of the wagon, Bankur says "You're invited too friend Tarin, but you may have to trade that owl for a gull!"
Tarin thinks for a moment. "Can't say I've ever been aboard a ship. It would take some coaxing to get me to leave solid ground! What convinced you to abandon the waves, if temporarily, to become the helmsman of a rickety wagon?"
The weather on your first day of the trip is nearly perfect - sunny, with a few white clouds moving slowly across the sky. The road is well travelled and smooth, and you reach a good place to make camp in the evening (the red X on the map). Everyone pitches in to make camp, and for dinner you heat up some water from a nearby stream, add a pre-measured package of dried herbs, beans, and rice, and toss in some smoked meat for a pleasant stew. With the bread you brought from town, plus whatever drinks you may have, it is just about a perfect night!
(The road is fairly well travelled, and you are pretty close to Neverwinter. If you want to set a watch, please let me know the rotation. Figure an 8 hour period. Love the conversation so far, feel free to continue interacting and getting to know each other. Waiting for Raldaen, a human Ranger, and Randstrom (Rand) Thymradle, a human Paladin, to check in...)
Rand is usually outgoing and full of personality, but not today. Today, he found himself in a pensive mood. He quietly took the bowman's seat, absentmindedly stringing his bow and placing it beside him as he did so many times before when traveling with his family during the trading season. He had taken some jobs like this before, but this feels different. After spending the day's ride lost in his own thoughts, he decides it is time to turn the page and begin a new chapter of his life.
Listening to Salty playing in the background, Rand turns to Bankur. "You were talking of the ocean earlier. It was the first time I have heard the ocean described as a thing of beauty. I have only heard stories of pirates, sea creatures, and storms that swallow ships whole. Are those stories untrue, then? You almost had me wanting to try it, except for the other stories I've heard."
(OOC: Rand was tempted to go right to Tarin and explore their Gnomish similarities, but decided not to share that personal bit with anyone just yet)
(The road is fairly well travelled, and you are pretty close to Neverwinter. If you want to set a watch, please let me know the rotation. Figure an 8 hour period. Love the conversation so far, feel free to continue interacting and getting to know each other. Waiting for Raldaen, a human Ranger, and Randstrom (Rand) Thymradle, a human Paladin, to check in...)
As the camp settles in for the night to the dulcet tunes of Salty's harmonica, Tarin busies himself with chores and fussing over picking a suitable spot to lay his bedroll. Notably, he politely declines any of the preparations that look remotely like manual labor or lifting and heaving things around, preferring instead to help out in more strategic ways.
Once the campfire has been built, he scrunches up his face and levels an index finger at the base of the woodpile. He draws himself up a bit, then says "Jotaro!". A thin jet of crackling scarlet fire spirals down his hand and splashes against the campfire's wood.
Once the fire is going, Tarin makes himself a meal out of the stew and helps any companions as needed. He pulls out a pungent slab of hard, crumbly cheese and uses his dagger to scrape several long, peeling slices from it, dropping them into his stew bowl. He stares thoughtfully at the fire, squinting at the stars above and scribbling into his notebook while he takes in Salty's dulcet tunes. "That's quite an unusual instrument; I don't know many who have your skill. Where did you learn to play?"
Once it looks like the camp is fully established and dinner is finished, Tarin pulls out a stick of chalk and begins carefully tracing a perimeter around the camp. He stops every so often to consult his notebook and make small adjustments, which takes him the better part of a half hour. From a pouch at his belt, he produces a tiny bell and a thin silver wire, which he cradles carefully in his hand, closes his eyes, and says "Sonora!". If everything looks satisfactory, he picks up any dishes that have been left out and scrubs them clean so they're set for the morning.
(OOC: Tarin casts Alarm twice as a ritual, warding the 20-foot square centered on the camp, and the nearest 20-foot square area containing the road if it is not within sight. Each casting takes 11 minutes. He chooses the "audible alarm" option for the campfire and the "mental ping" option for the road.)
Listening to Salty playing in the background, Rand turns to Bankur. "You were talking of the ocean earlier. It was the first time I have heard the ocean described as a thing of beauty. I have only heard stories of pirates, sea creatures, and storms that swallow ships whole. Are those stories untrue, then? You almost had me wanting to try it, except for the other stories I've heard."
Raldaen is a shabby looking man, his scruffy black hair is kempt in a manner he terms 'natural', and his bearded face is roughly trimmed with a blade rather than properly sheared. He is a wiry man, his leathery skin showing the wear from the elements and prolonged exposure to both sun, wind and rain, making him look a goodly number of years older than he actually is. Having spent the day setting pace a ways in front of the wagon, acting as a lookout and just checking back with his crew every so often. Whilst he doesn't have anything against them, yet, he feels no great need to indulge in chit-chat. He took the job for the easy money, and is keen to see it done quickly and cleanly, so he can get the gold in his purse and find another job to take him southwards again.
He approaches Tarin, indicating that the offer of stew isn't something he'll pass up.
"Rand, is it? Well, let me tell ya straight laddie, the sea be a thing of majesty, she can calm the wildest of men with her placid ways... Turn your care away from her though and she'll swallow you up, and them beasties that she tends to will chew you up without a care. I'd hear some o' yer pirates tales, maybe I was in 'em!" He laughs heartily, taking a swig from a flask filled with a dark, spiced rum - though cliched, Raldaen likes the intoxicant, and is more than happy to play up to the stereotype. "An a tale or two about me luv will be a pleasant distraction from all this..." He waves his hands towards the trees and land.
((OOC - Raldean will be happy to take the first watch tonight, unless anyone else shows a preference for it))
Responding to Tarin, Bankur says "Ilmater spoke to me in my dreams one night not long ago, telling me that there is a greater calling for my services than just roaming about on the waves. He told me to find those that are in the service of good and help them, heal them. So here I find myself friend Tarin, driving an oxen cart next to my new friends! What could be better!?"
Turning then to Rand, adopting an earnest tone, "Yes friend Rand, there are many dangers on the ocean. But is that not true of every place in the Forgotten Realms? If only there were a truly safe place where people could go to escape the madness of the world"Bankur says with a sigh. "But the ocean is that place for me, and I believe everyone should experience the beauty and glory it has to offer at least once, pirates and storms be damned!"
Bankur hums softly to himself with a seemingly permanent smile on his face while helping with camp preparations. Slightly taller than most of his race, his dark grey hair is tied back in a tight pony-tail. His distinctive green skin is slightly offset by his bluish-black eyes. Dark leather armor shows beneath the vestments he wears, and a dark shield emblazoned with the image of a pair of white hands crossed and bound at the wrist with a blood-red cord is slung over his back.
Once dinner is done Bankur excuses himself and heads off to the side of the camp. With a practiced hand he arranges his censer, incense, candle and holy symbol on the ground near a large tree and begins his prayers. After some time Bankur returns to the camp and with a huge smile proclaims himself ready to take the second watch.
Penumbra listens intently to all the talk of the sea. With a gleam of wanderlust in her eyes, and while chewing a large piece of gristle, she says "I would love to sail the ocean one day, I have often seen the big ships come to dock at Neverwinter and dreamed of perching atop the mast to feel the wind as she sails, and of the many places I could visit." Then she quaffs down her water, like a dwarf with a mug of ale and with a couple flaps of her wings ascends to the forest canopy where she wraps her tail around a branch to prevent falling. "Tarin's magic should keep us safe, but you can't be too cautious, wake me in a few hours and I will take a shift keeping watch."
Responding to Tarin, Bankur says "Ilmater spoke to me in my dreams one night not long ago, telling me that there is a greater calling for my services than just roaming about on the waves. He told me to find those that are in the service of good and help them, heal them. So here I find myself friend Tarin, driving an oxen cart next to my new friends! What could be better!?"
"Well, being back in my study, for one," he grumbles. "But if it must be outdoors, I am certainly glad to share the road with someone like you!"
"Tarin's magic should keep us safe, but you can't be too cautious, wake me in a few hours and I will take a shift keeping watch."
Tarin nods thoughtfully. "Indeed, Penumbra. I wouldn't be alive to stand before you today if I didn't take precautions! Sensible balancing and assessment of risks and rewards, that's the ticket." He raps his notebook for emphasis.
Tarin exchanges a glance with Cahoots and closes his eyes, linking in a shared understanding. "Watch over them, if you would, old friend. I'd like to keep these folks around for a bit, and it simply won't do to have us all be eaten by whatever wretched creatures are roaming these roads, well-traveled as they may be." The owl flaps off into the shadows above.
(OOC: Cahoots takes the Hide action {Stealth: 8} and spends the night carefully observing for any unexpected sights or smells. {Perception, Keen Senses: 19}. He is a Tiny celestial with darkvision to 120 feet.)
(OOC: Being a nocturnal creature, Tarin will ask Cahoots to stay awake and remain near whomever is on watch.)
Salty Joe's blood red eyes flick to Tarin as he stops playing for a moment, "Well thank you man. I've spent plenty of time on the seas to perfect my skill and teach myself many things."
He puts his focus back on his instrument and plays a song only the filthiest dirtiest pirate would recognize.
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I got alot a doods
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In the city of Neverwinter, a dwarf named Gundren Rockseeker asked you to bring a wagonload of provisions to the rough-and-tumble settlement of Phandalin, a couple of days’ travel southeast of the city. Gundren was clearly excited and more than a little secretive about his reasons for the trip, saying only that he and his brothers had found “something big,” and that he’d pay you ten gold pieces each for escorting his supplies safely to Barthen’s Provisions, a trading post in Phandalin. He then set out ahead of you on horse, along with a human warrior escort named Sildar Hallwinter, claiming he needed to arrive early to “take care of business.”
The journey will take you south along the High Road to the Triboar Trail, which heads east towards Phandalin (as shown on the overland map). The trip should take about three days at the moderate pace of the wagon and two oxen. Any character can drive a wagon, and no particular skill is necessary. If no one is holding the reins, the oxen stop where they are. The wagon is packed full of an assortment of mining supplies and food. This includes a dozen sacks of flour, several casks of salted pork, two kegs of strong ale, shovels, picks, and crowbars (about a dozen each), and five lanterns with a small barrel of oil (about fifty flasks in volume).
============================================
Please take a few posts to introduce your character and get to know each other as your party heads down the High Road! I will need to know who is driving the cart and where everyone else is - riding shotgun(x1); riding on top of the cargo (up to 4); walking alongside or scouting ahead. Please indicate relative positions (i.e. riding on the left hand side facing forward, or scouting ahead between 60 and 120 feet on either side of the road, etc.)
If you don't mind, whenever your character is talking out loud, please "use quotation marks & bold the text". Choosing a color for your character's dialogue is optional but a fun way to set you apart! Private thoughts that you want to post can be in italics. (OOC: posts should be indicated like this.) Let's have some fun!
Love God. Love Others. Any Questions?
ZZZZZZ, Salty Joe sleeps on top of the cargo.
I got alot a doods
Tarin sits atop the supplies, perched comfortably on a barrel of salted pork as the wagon rocks and bumps over the trail. The short, lanky gnome dangles his legs over the side of the barrel as he smiles at Salty Joe and shakes his head, chuckling.
He continues to write in a leatherbound journal with hundreds of pages, chronicling his observations. "What a delightful and eclectic bunch these tallfolk are!" Tarin chirps to himself. Anyone catching a glimpse during the journey sees page upon page full of miniscule, meticulous, and careful handwriting and diagrams. "I can't wait to see what Gundren found — getting paid ten gold pieces just to go on a wagon ride is the easiest money I've ever made!"
Outside the wagon, a scruffy barn owl with dingy gray feathers that's been accompanying Tarin throughout the trip flaps around, scouting ahead about 60 feet in wide, swooping circles. Periodically it returns to groom itself, perching on Tarin's shoulders for a minute or two as he absentmindedly passes it a nibble of something from a pouch at his belt.
[OOC: The barn owl is Tarin's familiar, though absentminded Tarin hasn't thought to introduce it to the party, and he hasn't spoken out loud to it during the journey yet.]
Penumbra (a rather short tiefling woman with crimson skin, black hair, and pair of large bat-like wings) walks on the right side of the wagon. Though she is trying her best to hide it she is clearly in awe of the splendor of nature around her, it is obvious to anyone paying attention that she has never been this far from the city before.
Observing the owl Penumbra becomes curious and, in her rather uncharismatic way, says "Hey, you. Gnome, er… I mean, Tarin was it? What's with the owl? Don't get me wrong I'm rather fond of winged nocturnal things and all. I'm just askin' cause you look like you know some magic, and I was just wondering if its some kind of spell or like just a real pet owl?"
Tarin smiles at the question, looking up from his scribblings long enough to make eye contact. He returns his gaze to the paper and continues, "Both! Cahoots takes many forms. But he most prefers this one." He raises his eyebrow for a moment, thinking. "Oh! But don't worry; he's very friendly, if you're worried about getting along with other, erm, winged friends."
Sitting in the drivers seat of the cart, controlling the oxen with a deft hand, Bankur takes a deep breath of the fresh air that seems so rare sometimes in a big city. "Keep an eye out while you're up there friend Tarin. Between you and your owl you should be able to scout ahead better than those of us on the ground."
Smiling knowingly at the look on Penumbra's face, Bankur says to her "This countryside is beautiful isn't it? So much better for the soul than being cooped up in a big city. I take it you haven't seen much of it?"
Penumbra turns a slightly darker shade of red. "Um, no. I've lived in Neverwinter my whole life." She says nervously. Then not wanting to appear helpless she quickly adds "But I'm no naive kid, I can handle myself. I've survived this long on the streets of the city with nothing but my wits, seen plenty of fights, and there are things in those sewers that would make Volo soil his pants!"
Bankur nods while listening to Penumbra, "The sewers of Neverwinter are no place to be trifled with for sure. No doubt my friend, no doubt. Say... you should join me on a sea voyage one day! If you think this landscape is beautiful, which it certainly is, you should see the ocean from the deck of a ship. Nothing compares to the beauty of the open sea. The rolling waves, the taste of salt in your mouth and nothing but the endless blue, blue water. Now that is true beauty my friend!"
Glancing up at the top of the wagon, Bankur says "You're invited too friend Tarin, but you may have to trade that owl for a gull! And with a name like Salty Joe the elf would fit right in on a ship I'd think... well, unless "Salty" has another meaning... Yes, yes, a voyage will be in order once this adventuring business is done! And every one of my new friends will receive an invitation!"
Bankur turns back in his seat with a wide grin and makes a slight adjustment to the cart's path, exuberant at the thought of a sea voyage with all of his "new friends".
Tarin thinks for a moment. "Can't say I've ever been aboard a ship. It would take some coaxing to get me to leave solid ground! What convinced you to abandon the waves, if temporarily, to become the helmsman of a rickety wagon?"
The weather on your first day of the trip is nearly perfect - sunny, with a few white clouds moving slowly across the sky. The road is well travelled and smooth, and you reach a good place to make camp in the evening (the red X on the map). Everyone pitches in to make camp, and for dinner you heat up some water from a nearby stream, add a pre-measured package of dried herbs, beans, and rice, and toss in some smoked meat for a pleasant stew. With the bread you brought from town, plus whatever drinks you may have, it is just about a perfect night!
(The road is fairly well travelled, and you are pretty close to Neverwinter. If you want to set a watch, please let me know the rotation. Figure an 8 hour period. Love the conversation so far, feel free to continue interacting and getting to know each other. Waiting for Raldaen, a human Ranger, and Randstrom (Rand) Thymradle, a human Paladin, to check in...)
Love God. Love Others. Any Questions?
Salty will eat his meal in silence. Once he's finished he will play his harmonica by the fire.
I got alot a doods
Rand is usually outgoing and full of personality, but not today. Today, he found himself in a pensive mood. He quietly took the bowman's seat, absentmindedly stringing his bow and placing it beside him as he did so many times before when traveling with his family during the trading season. He had taken some jobs like this before, but this feels different. After spending the day's ride lost in his own thoughts, he decides it is time to turn the page and begin a new chapter of his life.
Listening to Salty playing in the background, Rand turns to Bankur. "You were talking of the ocean earlier. It was the first time I have heard the ocean described as a thing of beauty. I have only heard stories of pirates, sea creatures, and storms that swallow ships whole. Are those stories untrue, then? You almost had me wanting to try it, except for the other stories I've heard."
(OOC: Rand was tempted to go right to Tarin and explore their Gnomish similarities, but decided not to share that personal bit with anyone just yet)
Rhanloi's Romp: Party Loot, Guild Vault, Adventure Notes
As the camp settles in for the night to the dulcet tunes of Salty's harmonica, Tarin busies himself with chores and fussing over picking a suitable spot to lay his bedroll. Notably, he politely declines any of the preparations that look remotely like manual labor or lifting and heaving things around, preferring instead to help out in more strategic ways.
Once the campfire has been built, he scrunches up his face and levels an index finger at the base of the woodpile. He draws himself up a bit, then says "Jotaro!". A thin jet of crackling scarlet fire spirals down his hand and splashes against the campfire's wood.
(OOC: Tarin casts Fire Bolt on the woodpile.)
Once the fire is going, Tarin makes himself a meal out of the stew and helps any companions as needed. He pulls out a pungent slab of hard, crumbly cheese and uses his dagger to scrape several long, peeling slices from it, dropping them into his stew bowl. He stares thoughtfully at the fire, squinting at the stars above and scribbling into his notebook while he takes in Salty's dulcet tunes. "That's quite an unusual instrument; I don't know many who have your skill. Where did you learn to play?"
Once it looks like the camp is fully established and dinner is finished, Tarin pulls out a stick of chalk and begins carefully tracing a perimeter around the camp. He stops every so often to consult his notebook and make small adjustments, which takes him the better part of a half hour. From a pouch at his belt, he produces a tiny bell and a thin silver wire, which he cradles carefully in his hand, closes his eyes, and says "Sonora!". If everything looks satisfactory, he picks up any dishes that have been left out and scrubs them clean so they're set for the morning.
(OOC: Tarin casts Alarm twice as a ritual, warding the 20-foot square centered on the camp, and the nearest 20-foot square area containing the road if it is not within sight. Each casting takes 11 minutes. He chooses the "audible alarm" option for the campfire and the "mental ping" option for the road.)
Raldaen is a shabby looking man, his scruffy black hair is kempt in a manner he terms 'natural', and his bearded face is roughly trimmed with a blade rather than properly sheared. He is a wiry man, his leathery skin showing the wear from the elements and prolonged exposure to both sun, wind and rain, making him look a goodly number of years older than he actually is. Having spent the day setting pace a ways in front of the wagon, acting as a lookout and just checking back with his crew every so often. Whilst he doesn't have anything against them, yet, he feels no great need to indulge in chit-chat. He took the job for the easy money, and is keen to see it done quickly and cleanly, so he can get the gold in his purse and find another job to take him southwards again.
He approaches Tarin, indicating that the offer of stew isn't something he'll pass up.
"Rand, is it? Well, let me tell ya straight laddie, the sea be a thing of majesty, she can calm the wildest of men with her placid ways... Turn your care away from her though and she'll swallow you up, and them beasties that she tends to will chew you up without a care. I'd hear some o' yer pirates tales, maybe I was in 'em!" He laughs heartily, taking a swig from a flask filled with a dark, spiced rum - though cliched, Raldaen likes the intoxicant, and is more than happy to play up to the stereotype. "An a tale or two about me luv will be a pleasant distraction from all this..." He waves his hands towards the trees and land.
((OOC - Raldean will be happy to take the first watch tonight, unless anyone else shows a preference for it))
Bring out your inner chatacter class...
Responding to Tarin, Bankur says "Ilmater spoke to me in my dreams one night not long ago, telling me that there is a greater calling for my services than just roaming about on the waves. He told me to find those that are in the service of good and help them, heal them. So here I find myself friend Tarin, driving an oxen cart next to my new friends! What could be better!?"
Turning then to Rand, adopting an earnest tone, "Yes friend Rand, there are many dangers on the ocean. But is that not true of every place in the Forgotten Realms? If only there were a truly safe place where people could go to escape the madness of the world" Bankur says with a sigh. "But the ocean is that place for me, and I believe everyone should experience the beauty and glory it has to offer at least once, pirates and storms be damned!"
"Where's yer excitement coming from if you sail without the threat of pirates or storms though Bankur?"
Bring out your inner chatacter class...
Bankur hums softly to himself with a seemingly permanent smile on his face while helping with camp preparations. Slightly taller than most of his race, his dark grey hair is tied back in a tight pony-tail. His distinctive green skin is slightly offset by his bluish-black eyes. Dark leather armor shows beneath the vestments he wears, and a dark shield emblazoned with the image of a pair of white hands crossed and bound at the wrist with a blood-red cord is slung over his back.
Once dinner is done Bankur excuses himself and heads off to the side of the camp. With a practiced hand he arranges his censer, incense, candle and holy symbol on the ground near a large tree and begins his prayers. After some time Bankur returns to the camp and with a huge smile proclaims himself ready to take the second watch.
Penumbra listens intently to all the talk of the sea. With a gleam of wanderlust in her eyes, and while chewing a large piece of gristle, she says "I would love to sail the ocean one day, I have often seen the big ships come to dock at Neverwinter and dreamed of perching atop the mast to feel the wind as she sails, and of the many places I could visit." Then she quaffs down her water, like a dwarf with a mug of ale and with a couple flaps of her wings ascends to the forest canopy where she wraps her tail around a branch to prevent falling. "Tarin's magic should keep us safe, but you can't be too cautious, wake me in a few hours and I will take a shift keeping watch."
(OOC: Penumbra will take third watch)
"Well, being back in my study, for one," he grumbles. "But if it must be outdoors, I am certainly glad to share the road with someone like you!"
Tarin nods thoughtfully. "Indeed, Penumbra. I wouldn't be alive to stand before you today if I didn't take precautions! Sensible balancing and assessment of risks and rewards, that's the ticket." He raps his notebook for emphasis.
Tarin exchanges a glance with Cahoots and closes his eyes, linking in a shared understanding. "Watch over them, if you would, old friend. I'd like to keep these folks around for a bit, and it simply won't do to have us all be eaten by whatever wretched creatures are roaming these roads, well-traveled as they may be." The owl flaps off into the shadows above.
(OOC: Cahoots takes the Hide action {Stealth: 8} and spends the night carefully observing for any unexpected sights or smells. {Perception, Keen Senses: 19}. He is a Tiny celestial with darkvision to 120 feet.)
(OOC: Being a nocturnal creature, Tarin will ask Cahoots to stay awake and remain near whomever is on watch.)
Salty Joe's blood red eyes flick to Tarin as he stops playing for a moment, "Well thank you man. I've spent plenty of time on the seas to perfect my skill and teach myself many things."
He puts his focus back on his instrument and plays a song only the filthiest dirtiest pirate would recognize.
I got alot a doods