OOC: This is not the wagon the red wizard is riding in.
"That's him!" one of the dead man's companions, and another guard of the Cult wagon, shouts when Rogram arrives. Heads turn to look at Rogram, still in conversation with Merric when the accusation comes. "That's the murderer! Check his sword. I'll bet it fits the wound perfectly."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Merric shakes his head slightly to Rogram’s questions. “It’s hard to tell what happened, it could be anything at this point.” He pushes his way through the crowd when he hears the man’s accusations. “What is this? What happened here?” Merric kneels down by the body to examine the wound and confirm the man is in fact deceased. He looks up at the man making the accusation. “Did you see what happened? That's a bold accusation. How do you know he did it?”
The crowd gives Merric space to look over the body. It is clear up close that the man died from a sword - the wound is too large to be from a dagger.
“Did you see what happened? That's a bold accusation. How do you know he did it?”
"Oh please, it's obvious. He got turned down to ride in our wagon, then his girlfriend robbed him and left him for dead. So he took his revenge on him and stole his money," the dead man's companion fumes.
"I've been using an axe, not my sword,"
"What a convenient reason to use your sword to kill him instead of your axe! Bring your sword here, then. I'll bet anything it matches the wound," he says.
For Merric:
The man's anger at Rogram is legitimate, but though it seems to you that he genuinely believes Rogram murdered his companion, he isn't certain of it.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
“So you didn’t see what happened then? Just guesses and theories.” Merric looks around at the gathered crowd. “Did anyone see anything? Who was he with last night, what was he doing? Anything helps.” Merric looks down at the man thoughtfully. I don’t even know his name, he thinks. He looks up at Rogram’s accuser and asks softly. “What was his name?” He turns back to the body and searches around, looking for any tracks or signs that may indicate if the man was killed here, or if the body was moved afterwards.
Karib groans inwardly. Whenever he'd heard about court intrigues it gave him headaches. He admired the efficiency of machines and the elegance of nature. This...this was the enemy of both. Even amongst his fellow priests were those whose delight it was to break machines. To tear down ideas. To destroy things. They saw a perverse value in it; as if the world were not already challenging enough. It was exactly that kind of person who did this kind of thing. If the they can't kill use, they will distract us.
He draws a deep breath, calling upon Gond's aid, and his voice rings out, "Truth...," he says in the ringing tones of a sermon. "..can always be determined. Let no man make false accusations without paying the price for their lies." He gaze scans the crowd, settles briefly on Rogram before he too walks over to the body to examine it.
Shaking his head he stands, "One lost soul is enough for the day; anything more can await a careful investigation."
"Edelhart," the dead man's companion says off-handedly before turning his attention back to the focus of his ire. "What does that matter? Bring that man and his sword here so we can prove it!"
Merric, for his part, sees plenty of prints surrounding the wagon but is having trouble making any headway on which prints may have been the murderer's, amidst the dozens of others crowded around the activity this morning.
Edhelri nudges her way through the crowd. "We are so close to our destination. We cannot afford to fall into chaos now. We will report this to Waterdeep's authorities and allow them to investigate. The other merchants and I will cooperate with any questioning," she says.
"Absolutely not!" the teamster of the dead man's wagon cries. "There is a murderer among us, and we know exactly who it is. Bring us his--"
"Stop!" a deep voice booms from nearby, and a spear is brandished toward the man, held outward by The Pole, towering over the frantic man. At his side is Leda Widris, who adds, "Rogram has fought to save this caravan more than once, and nearly died as a result. We will not be passing judgment on him because you think his blade will fit the wound. Like any blade wouldn't match."
Murmurs of agreement flit through the crowd before Nyerhite says, "When Losvius died, we took time to lay him to rest before continuing on. We will do the same here. Then, like Edhelri said, we will allow Waterdeep's authorities to sort this out." Edhelri nods, looking to her guard and agreeing with Karib's statements. "What say you, Merric? Do you see anything that might allow us to find a suspect on the spot? Or shall we move on and allow the Waterdhavian authorities to investigate?"
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Merric whispers to Karib as he touches his arm “We may need your aid to determine who is lying and who is telling the truth, if we can find witnesses. I fear they are trying to make Rogram a scapegoat.”
Merric shakes his head and responds to Edhelri, raising his voice to ensure the crowd can hear. “Nothing to help us solve the murder on the spot, the tracks around here are a mess.” He turns toward the accuser, echoing the Pole’s remarks. “The cut could have come from any sword, even yours. Where is your blade?” He looks around at the crowd. “No one witnessed the crime, no one has come forward with a statement. All we have are wild guesses. Edhelri is right, we should not rush to judgment. We should take Edelhart to Waterdeep and allow the authorities to investigate.”
Starting to get curious, Rogram draws his sword and inspects it for blood. He doesn't see how someone might have stolen it from him — and returned it! — without his knowing.
The majority of the crowd, having spent the last several tendays braving the dangers of the road from Baldur's Gate to Waterdeep, with the end of their journey so close, rally to Merric's persuasive conversation. Several voices rise to Rogram's defense, which only serves to further entrench the few guards of the cult's assumed wagons.
"How dare you defend a murderer standing right amongst you!"
"Where were you when Rogram was fighting those hobgoblins, huh?"
"Rogram's eaten with us several times. He's no murderer!"
"I'd trust Merric before I'd trust a man who's never so much as bothered to introduce himself!"
"We're not budging until he has seen justice. Bring us his blade!"
Amidst the racket, another wagon's door opens. The presumed Red Wizard steps out calmly, adjusting the cap on his head. The presence of the interesting man quiets the crowd; past him, eyes peer out at the activity from inside his wagon, including the woman Rogram had been speaking to over the last tenday, who watches raptly.
"Come now. We are so close to our destination. Let us not become fodder for banditry by picking ourselves apart now," he says. He turns to the man most vocally accusing Rogram and speaks softly, but with a calm projection. "You have been a part of this caravan for over a month, no? It would be a shame to travel so far, only to falter at the very end."
The man's input seems to quiet Rogram's accuser. Beyd steps into the conversation, adding, "Without witnesses, nothing can be done. The gods will punish the guilty party and life will go on. On to Waterdeep."
The voice of the merchant responsible for supplying the last four tendays with mead and ale is the tipping point. Begrudgingly, Rogram's accusers gather up their fallen companion's body and press on, beginning to break camp and ready their wagons along with the rest of the caravan.
Rogram looks up as the Red Wizard makes his appearance. The half-dwarf can't help but look at the woman as she peers out of the wagon. If she returns his gaze, he turns away after a brief locking of the eyes.
He then looks to the newcomer and ponders his words.
As they begin cleaning up the slain man, Rogram wonders who the real murderer might be. He looks around to see if anyone shows any signs of incrimination before beginning to ready their wagon for the road.
Looking around, it's a mystery to Rogram who may have done the foul deed, but he notices a small number of individuals, all faces he's associated with the Cult by now, glaring at him with undisguised hatred.
In the morning two days later, the mighty city of Waterdeep comes into full view. The massive stone walls practically gleam in the morning sunlight, and the city's towering structures seem to sparkle with promise to many of the caravan's travelers and merchants. The gleaming rooftops of the city's Castle Ward are visible even from a distance, and the sound of distant bells and the hum of city life soon reach the caravan's ears.
The wagons slow their pace, the long, rugged, months-long journey nearly at its end. The caravan is greeted by stern-faced city watchmen at the city gates. After the merchants answer some questions, the wagons roll through, followed by the wide-eyed travelers walking behind with weary smiles. Leda walks beside Rogram, mouth agape. "You hear stories in the south, but nothing does it justice. There is nothing where I am from like this. There must be a million people here," she says. The Pole grunts in affirmation next to her, but otherwise seems as nonplussed as ever.
In the wagons, Akira, Merric and Karib are paid in silver for their last tenday of services. Nyerhite beams with a puffed chest, "Akira my dear, you have seen us through with nary a casualty. I simply cannot wait to sell my silks in the market on the morrow." Tyjit slaps Akira on the back, and the dwarf laughs. "Ye're damned right she has," she says. Orvustia simply stares upward at the buildings and the city's skyline, a far cry from her family's farm. Tears rim her eyes. Nyerhite's grin seems plastered on his face. "You are all welcome as guards on my wagons at anytime," he says.
Merric and Karib are offered much the same. Beyd offers, "I'll spend a while loading up on some Waterdhavian ale to sell back in Baldur's Gate, as well as enough for the return trip. If you're still around in a month or so, the same offer stands. I'm no fool, though. I know my ale wasn't the only reason you made this journey."
Edhelri says to Merric, "I have a good eye for character, yet you exceeded my expectations still. Eldkin and I will be returning to Baldur's Gate soon. What are your plans for Waterdeep?"
Shortly into the city, the wagons disperse from the rest of the travelers, rolling toward the city's markets, warehouses, and stables. However, the wagons assumed to belong to the Cult of the Dragon don't follow the same pattern as the others. At an intersection, they turn toward the north side of the city.
OOC: Added wages in silver to Merric, Karib, and Akira's inventories.
Rogram is wary of danger and watches his back closely the rest of the way to Waterdeep. He is also in awe of the city as they near. He shakes his head at Leda's words. He can't seem to put his feelings into words at the sight.
After Merric is paid, Rogram approaches him, smiling. "Did Edhelri give you my wages as well?" he asks the elf.
Sorry - hoping to back track a bit, to the Red Wizard.
As the crowd begins to disperse, Merric moves up to the man and sticks out his hand. “I’m Merric, Thanks for the help back there, it’s hard enough when a crowd gets riled up for blood. It’s a shame what happened though. You joined the caravan back in Daggerford?”
At the caravan yard in Waterdeep.
Merric is in awe at the splendors of Waterdeep, easily the largest city he has visited. He responds to Edhelri “Thank you for taking a chance on me, back there on the trail. I am grateful, and glad that I was able to do a small part to help us arrive safely.” He looks across the caravan yard, the weight of the crowd flowing through the streets almost feels oppressive. “I am not sure how long I will stay in Waterdeep, but I will be sure to look you up when I decide to move south again. Maybe we can work together again. It was a pleasure.” Merric shakes Edhelri’s hands and moves across the yard, linking up with Rogram, Akira and Karib, keeping one eye on the cultists' wagons that are moving through the caravan yard without stopping. “Now isn’t that interesting. Where do you think they are going? Akira, is there a way to follow them from a distance?”
The man in red, a few inches taller than Merric's six feet, bears a commanding presence as he strongly shakes the elf's hand, despite the fact that he has said as many words to dispel the crowd as you have heard in the tenday since he joined the caravan.
“I’m Merric, Thanks for the help back there, it’s hard enough when a crowd gets riled up for blood. It’s a shame what happened though"
"Azbara Jos," the man introduces himself. His eyes lock onto Merric's, unwavering as he responds. "The intelligent should never suffer fools," he says, "And stopping days away from our destination is foolish."
"You joined the caravan back in Daggerford?"
"I did," is all Azbara says in response. When his eyes leave Merric's, the rest of him follows suit as he turns away without so much as a pleasantry in farewell.
When the wagons begin to disperse and the party reconnects, Jamna Gleamsilver is soon to follow, adding on to Merric's question of Akira. "If not, we need to get moving. Gonna be easier to avoid letting 'em know we're following if you've got something up your sleeve though," she says.
Carlon saunters up shortly after the question. Looking at him now, one would never know he was buried in the ground and left for dead just two tendays ago. The haggard, malnourished man you found has been replaced by a somewhat dashing man with kempt black hair swept to one side, though his gruff voice and overall aloofness has stuck around. "What's our plan?" he asks. "They didn't come to the market yard."
"Who are you?" Carlon and Jamna ask each other in unison. "Carlon Amoffel. I'm with them," Carlon says. "Jamna Gleamsilver. I'm with them," Jamna replies. They look at the party together. "Does she...know about the, uh...investigation?" Carlon asks. Jamna just looks to the party with a smirk.
Rogram begins to answer Jamna when Carlon speaks. The half-dwarf is just as surprised to see him as the gnome. He narrows his eyes, at first not recognizing the man. Then, as he does, Rogram's face opens. He points, "You're that guy we found in the road." He nods appreciably. "You clean up well."
Moving on as if everything is in order, Rogram leans in. "As I said before, I can make a couple of us invisible if that would help. And then I could make myself look like someone else." He looks around, silently counting. "That would leave three to be stealthy on their own."
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OOC: This is not the wagon the red wizard is riding in.
"That's him!" one of the dead man's companions, and another guard of the Cult wagon, shouts when Rogram arrives. Heads turn to look at Rogram, still in conversation with Merric when the accusation comes. "That's the murderer! Check his sword. I'll bet it fits the wound perfectly."
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Merric shakes his head slightly to Rogram’s questions. “It’s hard to tell what happened, it could be anything at this point.” He pushes his way through the crowd when he hears the man’s accusations. “What is this? What happened here?” Merric kneels down by the body to examine the wound and confirm the man is in fact deceased. He looks up at the man making the accusation. “Did you see what happened? That's a bold accusation. How do you know he did it?”
Medicine to check wound: 20.
Insight on guard response: 21.
.
Rogram draws his axe. "I've been using an axe, not my sword," he says. His voice is full of confusion rather than anger.
The crowd gives Merric space to look over the body. It is clear up close that the man died from a sword - the wound is too large to be from a dagger.
"Oh please, it's obvious. He got turned down to ride in our wagon, then his girlfriend robbed him and left him for dead. So he took his revenge on him and stole his money," the dead man's companion fumes.
"What a convenient reason to use your sword to kill him instead of your axe! Bring your sword here, then. I'll bet anything it matches the wound," he says.
For Merric:
The man's anger at Rogram is legitimate, but though it seems to you that he genuinely believes Rogram murdered his companion, he isn't certain of it.
See my profile for all my PbP threads!
“So you didn’t see what happened then? Just guesses and theories.” Merric looks around at the gathered crowd. “Did anyone see anything? Who was he with last night, what was he doing? Anything helps.” Merric looks down at the man thoughtfully. I don’t even know his name, he thinks. He looks up at Rogram’s accuser and asks softly. “What was his name?” He turns back to the body and searches around, looking for any tracks or signs that may indicate if the man was killed here, or if the body was moved afterwards.
Survival: 24.
.
Karib groans inwardly. Whenever he'd heard about court intrigues it gave him headaches. He admired the efficiency of machines and the elegance of nature. This...this was the enemy of both. Even amongst his fellow priests were those whose delight it was to break machines. To tear down ideas. To destroy things. They saw a perverse value in it; as if the world were not already challenging enough. It was exactly that kind of person who did this kind of thing. If the they can't kill use, they will distract us.
He draws a deep breath, calling upon Gond's aid, and his voice rings out, "Truth...," he says in the ringing tones of a sermon. "..can always be determined. Let no man make false accusations without paying the price for their lies." He gaze scans the crowd, settles briefly on Rogram before he too walks over to the body to examine it.
Shaking his head he stands, "One lost soul is enough for the day; anything more can await a careful investigation."
He reaches down and touches Merric on the arm, "What say you elf? How should we proceed?"
While never very good at sermons himself, he did know how to make an introduction.
((
guidance on himself for th intro
Enhance Ability = Charisma -> Merric
))
Rogram scowls and throws an arm around to his back protectively. He isn't about to turn his sword over to anyone, especially someone from the Cult.
"Edelhart," the dead man's companion says off-handedly before turning his attention back to the focus of his ire. "What does that matter? Bring that man and his sword here so we can prove it!"
Merric, for his part, sees plenty of prints surrounding the wagon but is having trouble making any headway on which prints may have been the murderer's, amidst the dozens of others crowded around the activity this morning.
Edhelri nudges her way through the crowd. "We are so close to our destination. We cannot afford to fall into chaos now. We will report this to Waterdeep's authorities and allow them to investigate. The other merchants and I will cooperate with any questioning," she says.
"Absolutely not!" the teamster of the dead man's wagon cries. "There is a murderer among us, and we know exactly who it is. Bring us his--"
"Stop!" a deep voice booms from nearby, and a spear is brandished toward the man, held outward by The Pole, towering over the frantic man. At his side is Leda Widris, who adds, "Rogram has fought to save this caravan more than once, and nearly died as a result. We will not be passing judgment on him because you think his blade will fit the wound. Like any blade wouldn't match."
Murmurs of agreement flit through the crowd before Nyerhite says, "When Losvius died, we took time to lay him to rest before continuing on. We will do the same here. Then, like Edhelri said, we will allow Waterdeep's authorities to sort this out." Edhelri nods, looking to her guard and agreeing with Karib's statements. "What say you, Merric? Do you see anything that might allow us to find a suspect on the spot? Or shall we move on and allow the Waterdhavian authorities to investigate?"
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OOC: Awaiting the party's response before advancing.
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Merric whispers to Karib as he touches his arm “We may need your aid to determine who is lying and who is telling the truth, if we can find witnesses. I fear they are trying to make Rogram a scapegoat.”
Merric shakes his head and responds to Edhelri, raising his voice to ensure the crowd can hear. “Nothing to help us solve the murder on the spot, the tracks around here are a mess.” He turns toward the accuser, echoing the Pole’s remarks. “The cut could have come from any sword, even yours. Where is your blade?” He looks around at the crowd. “No one witnessed the crime, no one has come forward with a statement. All we have are wild guesses. Edhelri is right, we should not rush to judgment. We should take Edelhart to Waterdeep and allow the authorities to investigate.”
Persuasion (with advantage from Karib): 16.
.
Starting to get curious, Rogram draws his sword and inspects it for blood. He doesn't see how someone might have stolen it from him — and returned it! — without his knowing.
The majority of the crowd, having spent the last several tendays braving the dangers of the road from Baldur's Gate to Waterdeep, with the end of their journey so close, rally to Merric's persuasive conversation. Several voices rise to Rogram's defense, which only serves to further entrench the few guards of the cult's assumed wagons.
"How dare you defend a murderer standing right amongst you!"
"Where were you when Rogram was fighting those hobgoblins, huh?"
"Rogram's eaten with us several times. He's no murderer!"
"I'd trust Merric before I'd trust a man who's never so much as bothered to introduce himself!"
"We're not budging until he has seen justice. Bring us his blade!"
Amidst the racket, another wagon's door opens. The presumed Red Wizard steps out calmly, adjusting the cap on his head. The presence of the interesting man quiets the crowd; past him, eyes peer out at the activity from inside his wagon, including the woman Rogram had been speaking to over the last tenday, who watches raptly.
"Come now. We are so close to our destination. Let us not become fodder for banditry by picking ourselves apart now," he says. He turns to the man most vocally accusing Rogram and speaks softly, but with a calm projection. "You have been a part of this caravan for over a month, no? It would be a shame to travel so far, only to falter at the very end."
The man's input seems to quiet Rogram's accuser. Beyd steps into the conversation, adding, "Without witnesses, nothing can be done. The gods will punish the guilty party and life will go on. On to Waterdeep."
The voice of the merchant responsible for supplying the last four tendays with mead and ale is the tipping point. Begrudgingly, Rogram's accusers gather up their fallen companion's body and press on, beginning to break camp and ready their wagons along with the rest of the caravan.
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Rogram looks up as the Red Wizard makes his appearance. The half-dwarf can't help but look at the woman as she peers out of the wagon. If she returns his gaze, he turns away after a brief locking of the eyes.
He then looks to the newcomer and ponders his words.
As they begin cleaning up the slain man, Rogram wonders who the real murderer might be. He looks around to see if anyone shows any signs of incrimination before beginning to ready their wagon for the road.
Looking around, it's a mystery to Rogram who may have done the foul deed, but he notices a small number of individuals, all faces he's associated with the Cult by now, glaring at him with undisguised hatred.
In the morning two days later, the mighty city of Waterdeep comes into full view. The massive stone walls practically gleam in the morning sunlight, and the city's towering structures seem to sparkle with promise to many of the caravan's travelers and merchants. The gleaming rooftops of the city's Castle Ward are visible even from a distance, and the sound of distant bells and the hum of city life soon reach the caravan's ears.
The wagons slow their pace, the long, rugged, months-long journey nearly at its end. The caravan is greeted by stern-faced city watchmen at the city gates. After the merchants answer some questions, the wagons roll through, followed by the wide-eyed travelers walking behind with weary smiles. Leda walks beside Rogram, mouth agape. "You hear stories in the south, but nothing does it justice. There is nothing where I am from like this. There must be a million people here," she says. The Pole grunts in affirmation next to her, but otherwise seems as nonplussed as ever.
In the wagons, Akira, Merric and Karib are paid in silver for their last tenday of services. Nyerhite beams with a puffed chest, "Akira my dear, you have seen us through with nary a casualty. I simply cannot wait to sell my silks in the market on the morrow." Tyjit slaps Akira on the back, and the dwarf laughs. "Ye're damned right she has," she says. Orvustia simply stares upward at the buildings and the city's skyline, a far cry from her family's farm. Tears rim her eyes. Nyerhite's grin seems plastered on his face. "You are all welcome as guards on my wagons at anytime," he says.
Merric and Karib are offered much the same. Beyd offers, "I'll spend a while loading up on some Waterdhavian ale to sell back in Baldur's Gate, as well as enough for the return trip. If you're still around in a month or so, the same offer stands. I'm no fool, though. I know my ale wasn't the only reason you made this journey."
Edhelri says to Merric, "I have a good eye for character, yet you exceeded my expectations still. Eldkin and I will be returning to Baldur's Gate soon. What are your plans for Waterdeep?"
Shortly into the city, the wagons disperse from the rest of the travelers, rolling toward the city's markets, warehouses, and stables. However, the wagons assumed to belong to the Cult of the Dragon don't follow the same pattern as the others. At an intersection, they turn toward the north side of the city.
OOC: Added wages in silver to Merric, Karib, and Akira's inventories.
See my profile for all my PbP threads!
Rogram is wary of danger and watches his back closely the rest of the way to Waterdeep. He is also in awe of the city as they near. He shakes his head at Leda's words. He can't seem to put his feelings into words at the sight.
After Merric is paid, Rogram approaches him, smiling. "Did Edhelri give you my wages as well?" he asks the elf.
OOC: Whoops, DM slip! Added Rogram's wages for the last tenday.
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Akira smiles at Tyjit and Orvustia. “You two have been exemplary models to your uniforms.”
”Tyjit - you have strong manner and hope when the road ends, you will always be strong tempered with wisdom.”
“Orvustia - you are getting more comfortable in your role and hope you will continue to grow in your confidence.”
“Nyerhite- you are just and enjoyable. I have been happy to be in your employ and would recommend you to others.”
Halsen - Human Monk - Winter Splendor
Aradurk - Half-Orc Fighter - Barty's Blade Bizarre
Aradurk - Half-Orc Fighter - Betrayal at Devilsfall
Aradurk - Half-Orc Fighter - Barty's "The Hidden War" (Doom Portals Part 4A)
Aradurk - Half-Orc Fighter - Barty's "The Whispered Word (Doom Portals Part 5)
Garu - Tabaxi Paladin - Barty's "Beyond Twilight" (Rikirta Part 3)
Sorry - hoping to back track a bit, to the Red Wizard.
As the crowd begins to disperse, Merric moves up to the man and sticks out his hand. “I’m Merric, Thanks for the help back there, it’s hard enough when a crowd gets riled up for blood. It’s a shame what happened though. You joined the caravan back in Daggerford?”
At the caravan yard in Waterdeep.
Merric is in awe at the splendors of Waterdeep, easily the largest city he has visited. He responds to Edhelri “Thank you for taking a chance on me, back there on the trail. I am grateful, and glad that I was able to do a small part to help us arrive safely.” He looks across the caravan yard, the weight of the crowd flowing through the streets almost feels oppressive. “I am not sure how long I will stay in Waterdeep, but I will be sure to look you up when I decide to move south again. Maybe we can work together again. It was a pleasure.” Merric shakes Edhelri’s hands and moves across the yard, linking up with Rogram, Akira and Karib, keeping one eye on the cultists' wagons that are moving through the caravan yard without stopping. “Now isn’t that interesting. Where do you think they are going? Akira, is there a way to follow them from a distance?”
OOC: The previous days....
The man in red, a few inches taller than Merric's six feet, bears a commanding presence as he strongly shakes the elf's hand, despite the fact that he has said as many words to dispel the crowd as you have heard in the tenday since he joined the caravan.
"Azbara Jos," the man introduces himself. His eyes lock onto Merric's, unwavering as he responds. "The intelligent should never suffer fools," he says, "And stopping days away from our destination is foolish."
"I did," is all Azbara says in response. When his eyes leave Merric's, the rest of him follows suit as he turns away without so much as a pleasantry in farewell.
When the wagons begin to disperse and the party reconnects, Jamna Gleamsilver is soon to follow, adding on to Merric's question of Akira. "If not, we need to get moving. Gonna be easier to avoid letting 'em know we're following if you've got something up your sleeve though," she says.
Carlon saunters up shortly after the question. Looking at him now, one would never know he was buried in the ground and left for dead just two tendays ago. The haggard, malnourished man you found has been replaced by a somewhat dashing man with kempt black hair swept to one side, though his gruff voice and overall aloofness has stuck around. "What's our plan?" he asks. "They didn't come to the market yard."
"Who are you?" Carlon and Jamna ask each other in unison. "Carlon Amoffel. I'm with them," Carlon says. "Jamna Gleamsilver. I'm with them," Jamna replies. They look at the party together. "Does she...know about the, uh...investigation?" Carlon asks. Jamna just looks to the party with a smirk.
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Rogram begins to answer Jamna when Carlon speaks. The half-dwarf is just as surprised to see him as the gnome. He narrows his eyes, at first not recognizing the man. Then, as he does, Rogram's face opens. He points, "You're that guy we found in the road." He nods appreciably. "You clean up well."
Moving on as if everything is in order, Rogram leans in. "As I said before, I can make a couple of us invisible if that would help. And then I could make myself look like someone else." He looks around, silently counting. "That would leave three to be stealthy on their own."