Varielky runs her hand over the runes, top to bottom, whispering the Dreyen name of the god related to each when her hand passes over it. "Natanya? Strange. I'd expect S- Ellosh here."
Varielky also notes that there is a blank space in between Takal Demesh, Moeitu and Nanatya's runes. Varielky suspects it may have been the opposing daggers of Ellosh, but it's impossible to make out at present.
Before dawn, the heavy coach, built to travel hundreds of miles on the Orracan roads, is brought out of the little carriage house in Villa Safi Meknes, on the hillside in the Harbor District of the Orracan city, Ishi Ammah, by Amistan Aderfi, the Shian ranger we met the previous day. His ice-blue eyes peer steadily out from under a leather hat with a large round rim, from which fall dark, sandy-colored dreadnoughts over his shoulders. His weathered face, its expression impenetrable, manages to ignore everyone else, after you all have risen, while carefully analyzing each movement of the horse team. Last nights’ four Friesian geldings are now supplemented by a pair of Friesian mares hitched closest to the coach.
By sunrise, such as it is, everyone is up and ready to depart. Overnight, clouds have formed above, and there is a chill mist surrounding the street lamps in hazy coronas. The sun rises grey and dim, and your journey begins without fanfare.
The coach is very much like the one from last night, only heavier, and flatter, its design focused on utility, rather than style, and with the physical size of dwarves in mind, rather than humans. Luggage and supplies are stowed on top. In addition to the driver’s bucket and a rear bucket, upon which two people can sit facing backwards, there are also two forward-facing seats atop the coach, and four passenger seats within. Granophyre and Tuff sit inside, Adelfi sits in the driver’s bucket, and while you’re still in the city, Flint and Wad walk, one on each side.
When Varielky wakes up, she gets dressed and dons her armour. Then, she straps her old sword to her backpack. With the new sword the gods granted her, she doesn't expect to use it. Yet, if things get dire, she might need a backup before she can wield the new sword efficiently.
(OOC: I added a longsword to Varielky's inventory and named it "Dreyen Sword". For now, the sheet counts it as a normal longsword for anything other than its name.)
Varielky is not sure whether it was a dream or not, perhaps, but she knows Benita just lost a lot more than she did. She doesn't want to address it directly though so she'll only say this (if Benita is awake, of course): "Hey, I'm sorry about yesterday. I was too excited about this new sword. If you ever want to talk with me, I'll listen. I'm here for you for whatever purpose you need me. If I'm too caught up on something," she tries to smile playfully, "you can hit me if you need to until I pay attention to you. Just you." She's a bit awkward now since it is a rather awkward thing to say, so she'll excuse herself out of the room and head down, ready to depart for their journey to find a dwarven core or something. In truth, it didn't really matter for her. The core, by itself, was probably the last thing on her mind right now.
Benita skips the makeup this morning, but is still in bed when Varielky offers her a friendly word. Benita replies, simply, “Okay. I just feel...dead. I can’t believe he’s gone. But, I’ll kick your ass if you insist.” You can tell she’s trying to kid, even though her words fall flat. “I’ll be down soon.” She’s the last one downstairs, and comes out slowly chewing on a dried fig, and takes a place next to the lead horse as you exit the villa.
Dolkum wakes up early, says his morning prayers, not quite rushing through them, for that would be impious. He was mulling over the events of the day and the dreams he had in the night.. Waiting for Ednyss to wake up and finish his prayers Dolkum sketches out the footprint that he saw last night, and then the 3 people upon whom he had seen the tunic with the footprint. He stows his gear for travel, and takes his sketches to show the others.
Guys, I'm thinking those 2 footmen by the aquaduct had been killed to provide a disguise for the assassins...For example one of the attackers in the carriage house looked just like one of the dead footmen, however the tunic was the wrong size.
<ooc - Dolkum will sit on the back of the carriage on the starboard side>
After his morning routine, Ednyss hears what Dolkum has to say. He takes in Dolkum's observation with an 'aha!' moment and quickly urges the other dwarf to tell others about his discovery. Quickly packing his things, Ednyss swings his War Pick on one shoulder and hangs his shield by a loop on his belt. Wrapping his spare pick, he places it in his pack on the off-chance that he might need it. Everything else packed, Ednyss rushes downstairs to join the others and share Dolkum's discovery. He wasn't quite sure of its significance yet, or at least that Dolkum had explained, but Dolkum was talking about it as if it seemed important.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
Varielky wants to tell Benita that she knows how she feels, but she doesn't. She had lost comrades on the barrlefield, but never someone that close. The only time she lost people dear to her was when her parents died, and she didn't act the way Benita does now. Back then, she just wept until she could no more. The thing that helped her back then, she can see now, was Veleif's merciless teachings that didn't ler her focus on her grieve. She wondered who she'd be today if none of that had happened.
Varielky tries to seat next to Benita if possible. If not, she'll walk by the carriage when possible or sit where there's space left if the others wish to pick up the pace of the carriage.
While they are loading into the carriage Dolkum relates what he remembered of the events in the carriage house. He told how one of the footmen by the aquaduct was larger than a normal Shian human, and that the disguised footman in the carriage house was wearing livery that was too large, was torn in the shoulder, and had a boot print in the back. And then he relates seeing this same livery on a teamster sitting in an Imperial coach by himself on their way out of the complex, and also that the teamster of the carriage with the Lady in red had been in disguise, too. He shows the others the sketches he made of the people he is describing, and of the footprint.
The magical gate of Safi Meknes clicks shut behind you, and its magical voice chimes softly and melodiously in Dwarven, <”Fair travels,”> as your carriage, exiting the drive, makes a wide right turn into the avenue. Very few people are out in the city, and the lamp lighters are taking their time extinguishing the flames, knowing daylight may be more theoretical than reality this morning. You turn left, carefully, down the Promenade, where the statues of Ritha Demsha, Arapabiya, Bata Bell, and Piya tower up into the low mist, their faces obscured in a motionless fog, and Flint uses a lever to his right which serves as a brake, to keep the carriage from pitching forward on the backs of the mares. At its steepest point, Wad, in the back, releases the drag and it clangs down, scraping noisily against the slick and worn cobblestones. Someone in an upper storey leans out the window and yells at you to “Shut the ‘llosh up!” but Adelfi ignores them.
You turn right onto the Gate Road, stow the drag, and, passing farm carts heading toward the Public Market, you continue left to a bridge over the Sebu River, which, at high tide, laps at the shore road. You enter the Crossings, and pass the West Garrison, where Khazaran soldiers moodily stand guard. They walk out in front of the coach and you stop. Flint speaks with them quietly and hands them each a small bag of silver, and you continue on past Prince’s Arbor, the Temple of Ritha Demsha, and thence to the City Gate at Red Cove Beach.
The gates are still closed, the garrison guard asleep at his post. Flint coughs loudly, looking straight ahead. The man rouses, and scratching himself, slowly walks to Flint, who drops more silver into his hands, and he slowly raises the portcullis and you pass out of Ishi Ammah, as, outside the gate, farmers with carts loaded high who have been quietly waiting, shoulder their loads or lead their heavy horses in the opposite direction. For the first time in weeks, you are beyond the city walls, and the first thing you notice is the immediate freshness of the air, no longer imbued with the ever-present sewer smell which you had forgotten was there.
You travel on the Orracan high road, which hugs the coast just beyond the sand dunes bordering the beach, sometimes obscuring your view of the gulf, but at other times, the road rises atop an embankment and there is a view of the grey ocean under the grey sky, and you see rain approaching the shore as you go. There is a brief downpour, but it soon passes, as do the clouds, and the sun begins to break through as the water takes on a mottled grey and clear blue hue. On your right for the first two hours of your journey are farmlands as far as you can see, reaching for miles northeast toward the coastal range of hills, farmlands whose harvests are loaded into wagons which drive down this very road to feed the enormous city behind you. In these morning hours you pass a parade of such wagons, riders, and locals on foot going the other direction, to feed Ishi Ammah, or to do business in the city. A messenger on horseback canters past you carrying letters up the coast, and soon a local horse and buggy pair driven by a schoolmarmish-looking dwarf woman passes you, then turns up a local road. These side roads lead almost all to your right, some, private, blocked by wooden fences, and others you can see leading inland to small hamlets and villages. Another messenger on horseback, this one armed and armored, in Jenghen blue, gallops past you away from the city as you now see out on the water, ships entering and leaving port now that the fog has lifted and the brief shower passed.
As you escape the city’s confines, you notice Flint and Wad, mile by mile, seeming to lower their guard, their shoulders and posture relaxing somewhat, tension in their faces melding away. Likewise, Aderfi, who although you’ve only just met him, seems, by far, better fitted to life in the wilds than in the city, and he speaks to the horses from time to time, words of encouragement, or chiding, sometimes even joking with them, as if they are old friends. But for the most part he keeps to himself and speaks, seemingly, as infrequently, and with as few words as possible.
Ednyss takes a deep breath of fresh air. Sitting with Mittens (preferably in one of the forward facing seats on top of the carriage), he is stroking his hand through his white beard as he enjoys the view. After some small talk, he'll pull out his cards and say, "Last time we tried this we were interrupted by a Frost Giant. Maybe this time we can finish our game." He clarifies, "No bets. Just like last time." If Mittens agrees, he begins to deal out the cards as he watches the horizon for anyone or anything that approaches their carriage. He is ruminating on what Dolkum said, but now that they have left the city, there is little they can do about any of this assassin business, at least that he can think of.
Ednyss glances over his shoulder and responds to Dolkum, "I highly doubt anything or anyone would have the audacity to attack is in broad daylight. Even if they did, we can see for miles now that we are out of the city. We'll notice them coming well before they arrive."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
At the offer of the card game, Mittens shrugs and says, "Sure, why not?" He isn't terribly familiar with the game, and asks a lot of clarifying questions at the start, but he learns the rules fairly quickly. Pooky is curled up on his lap, stuffed tail whipping lazily in the air and watches the cards with the usual indifference of felines. As they continue along, Mittens asks Dolkum and Ednyss, "So, what were y'all doing before all this craziness happened? I know you and I were part of the Imperial army," he gestures towards Ednyss, "but what before that?"
The issue of the assassins lingers in the back of his mind like a persistent headache, but he puts off thinking about it. He actually makes better connections between information when he wasn't focusing on it.
Ednyss is more than happy to teach the cat, and Mittens is an extraordinarily fast learner (by his standards). Ednyss cocks his head to the side at Mitten's question, "Not much really. Between my service at the Temple of Takal Demesh in Ishi Ammah and my helping out Ingrid with her smithy, most of my time before conscription was accounted for. Before that..." he trails off for a few moments getting lost in his own thoughts before returning to the conversation, "well that was a long time ago." There is a look of nostalgia on his face as if he misses something, but there is a hardness behind it that is difficult to place. He returns his attention to the cards and waits for Dolkum's response.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
I grew up in the Capital. My parents are mercenaries , as are most of my cousins, so we learned how to use weapons and armour in our ankle biting days. After that I I followed my sister into the seminary.
The ride along the Orracan High Road is smooth, for the gravelly paving is kept in good repair this close to the city. As if in answer to the question of how, you pass by two chain gangs repairing damage to the roads under the watch of mounted imperial sorcerers. Ednyss recognizes one of the members of the first chain gang as the hooligans who tried to run off with the bag of gold at the arena. The man doesn’t recognize Ednyss, or even look up. He just keeps filling ditches.
There are many travelers on the road. You pass some walkers, and are likewise passed by a variety of faster-moving small coaches and horsemen and women traveling alone, carrying messages, or in a rush for no discernable reason.
Most of the forests which once lined the coast were burned decades ago, or longer, to make way for farming, and as Ishi Ammah grew, the extent of people’s claims on the land grew with it. Nowadays, farmlands and pastures are broken only by a few patches of Argania woods and swamps. Off the road are farmhouses beyond private gates, sometimes with partitions carefully built up to discourage visitors from the road. Some landowners have dug wells beside the road, so that travelers could water their horses and themselves drink, especially in the hot summer months, without the need to venture off the high road. Most of the population of Orraca u Shia lives on the coast, and in addition to the farms, you pass a few small hamlets and villages as you go. From time to time, you pass a copse of argania trees which has flourished bountifully, a brook running through it, and you see, far from the road, an enclosure has grown up among the larger branches, forming a spacious rounded capsule or room, walled by branches and topped by thick leaves, which you surmise is the home of an elf family.
The clouds pass quickly and through most of the day the sky is crisp and blue. Only as the sun begins to near the horizon does a grey smudge of clouds on the horizon over the gulf begin to advance toward the coast once again.
As the sun begins to set, the sky is overcast and a fog is rolling in. You’ve traveled a good 20 miles at an easy pace. The horses are doing well, and you could keep going if you wanted to, but you reach the goal Blueschist had set: the small coastal town of Asilah, which stands behind coastal walls atop a tall escarpment, near a stream at the towns other end which empties into the gulf. There is a central convent, a temple to Ulella, and surrounding it, winding streets along which interconnected homes, built of red adobe or red rock over wooden frames, rise upon the red-clay hillside, with whitewashed exteriors and brightly painted doorways, many with colorful tilework bordering the entrances. This town is a busy waypoint for travelers to or from Ishi Ammah, as either by coach or by foot, it can be reached in one day's time.
As you arrive, you presume there is no sewer system here, as many inhabitants are emptying the contents of chamber pots over the wall to the sea below, and a few children are simply relieving themselves outright over the edge of the precipice.
Just before you enter the town’s main street, outside the walls, is a sprawling tavern beside a large Inn, toward whose stables Amistan Aderfi steers the carriage, after Tuff Blueschist clambours out of the passenger compartment and enters the Inn to arrange for your lodgings. He soon returns, and points you to the Asilah Seaside Tavarn to take your evening meal.
(OOC: Something non-threatening happens while you are on the road. All please roll Perception and Insight checks.)
(OOC: Is there anything more you wish to do while travelling or upon arrival in Asilah BEFORE entering the tavern, which will happen in my next post?)
Perception: 13 Insight: 5 (Apparently Varielky had proficiency in this. I totally get why I made sure she had it but didn't remember that I did. Surprise, I guess.)
Varielky was silent almost the entire day. She didn't speak much nor played with the others. She's a bit off. Dreamy, perhaps, as if her mind is elsewhere. When Tuff points everyone towards the inn, she just nods and follows.
(OOC: Readying for when I'm gone. I'm still here until I say otherwise, however, in case something happens by that time.)
To Dolkum and Mittens conversation he just remarks, "These are not innocent people. They are people that have been found guilty of breaking the law and this is their repentance." Ednyss is not fully sure of that, but it seems a logical conclusion given the placement of the hooligan as part of the chain gang.
Ednyss just keeps his eyes open as they play cards. As they approach the town of Asilah, Ednyss is pleasantly surprised to see that there first meal will be at an actual tavern and heads there with the others. Along the way, however, he keeps his eyes open for any places of gambling that might be open as he hadn't been able to test his odds since the Beauty Pageant and he was looking for a bit more relaxation after the stressful night they had before.
Varielky also notes that there is a blank space in between Takal Demesh, Moeitu and Nanatya's runes. Varielky suspects it may have been the opposing daggers of Ellosh, but it's impossible to make out at present.
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Chapter 6 - The Awhar Coast
POST #1
Before dawn, the heavy coach, built to travel hundreds of miles on the Orracan roads, is brought out of the little carriage house in Villa Safi Meknes, on the hillside in the Harbor District of the Orracan city, Ishi Ammah, by Amistan Aderfi, the Shian ranger we met the previous day. His ice-blue eyes peer steadily out from under a leather hat with a large round rim, from which fall dark, sandy-colored dreadnoughts over his shoulders. His weathered face, its expression impenetrable, manages to ignore everyone else, after you all have risen, while carefully analyzing each movement of the horse team. Last nights’ four Friesian geldings are now supplemented by a pair of Friesian mares hitched closest to the coach.
By sunrise, such as it is, everyone is up and ready to depart. Overnight, clouds have formed above, and there is a chill mist surrounding the street lamps in hazy coronas. The sun rises grey and dim, and your journey begins without fanfare.
The coach is very much like the one from last night, only heavier, and flatter, its design focused on utility, rather than style, and with the physical size of dwarves in mind, rather than humans. Luggage and supplies are stowed on top. In addition to the driver’s bucket and a rear bucket, upon which two people can sit facing backwards, there are also two forward-facing seats atop the coach, and four passenger seats within. Granophyre and Tuff sit inside, Adelfi sits in the driver’s bucket, and while you’re still in the city, Flint and Wad walk, one on each side.
Here is a depiction of the coach.
Each bench can hold two, or squeezing together, three smallish humanoids.
How do you arrange yourselves?
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Benita skips the makeup this morning, but is still in bed when Varielky offers her a friendly word. Benita replies, simply, “Okay. I just feel...dead. I can’t believe he’s gone. But, I’ll kick your ass if you insist.” You can tell she’s trying to kid, even though her words fall flat. “I’ll be down soon.” She’s the last one downstairs, and comes out slowly chewing on a dried fig, and takes a place next to the lead horse as you exit the villa.
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Dolkum wakes up early, says his morning prayers, not quite rushing through them, for that would be impious. He was mulling over the events of the day and the dreams he had in the night.. Waiting for Ednyss to wake up and finish his prayers Dolkum sketches out the footprint that he saw last night, and then the 3 people upon whom he had seen the tunic with the footprint. He stows his gear for travel, and takes his sketches to show the others.
Guys, I'm thinking those 2 footmen by the aquaduct had been killed to provide a disguise for the assassins...For example one of the attackers in the carriage house looked just like one of the dead footmen, however the tunic was the wrong size.
<ooc - Dolkum will sit on the back of the carriage on the starboard side>
After his morning routine, Ednyss hears what Dolkum has to say. He takes in Dolkum's observation with an 'aha!' moment and quickly urges the other dwarf to tell others about his discovery. Quickly packing his things, Ednyss swings his War Pick on one shoulder and hangs his shield by a loop on his belt. Wrapping his spare pick, he places it in his pack on the off-chance that he might need it. Everything else packed, Ednyss rushes downstairs to join the others and share Dolkum's discovery. He wasn't quite sure of its significance yet, or at least that Dolkum had explained, but Dolkum was talking about it as if it seemed important.
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
Varielky wants to tell Benita that she knows how she feels, but she doesn't. She had lost comrades on the barrlefield, but never someone that close. The only time she lost people dear to her was when her parents died, and she didn't act the way Benita does now. Back then, she just wept until she could no more. The thing that helped her back then, she can see now, was Veleif's merciless teachings that didn't ler her focus on her grieve. She wondered who she'd be today if none of that had happened.
Varielky tries to seat next to Benita if possible. If not, she'll walk by the carriage when possible or sit where there's space left if the others wish to pick up the pace of the carriage.
Varielky
While they are loading into the carriage Dolkum relates what he remembered of the events in the carriage house. He told how one of the footmen by the aquaduct was larger than a normal Shian human, and that the disguised footman in the carriage house was wearing livery that was too large, was torn in the shoulder, and had a boot print in the back. And then he relates seeing this same livery on a teamster sitting in an Imperial coach by himself on their way out of the complex, and also that the teamster of the carriage with the Lady in red had been in disguise, too. He shows the others the sketches he made of the people he is describing, and of the footprint.
POST #2
The magical gate of Safi Meknes clicks shut behind you, and its magical voice chimes softly and melodiously in Dwarven, <”Fair travels,”> as your carriage, exiting the drive, makes a wide right turn into the avenue. Very few people are out in the city, and the lamp lighters are taking their time extinguishing the flames, knowing daylight may be more theoretical than reality this morning. You turn left, carefully, down the Promenade, where the statues of Ritha Demsha, Arapabiya, Bata Bell, and Piya tower up into the low mist, their faces obscured in a motionless fog, and Flint uses a lever to his right which serves as a brake, to keep the carriage from pitching forward on the backs of the mares. At its steepest point, Wad, in the back, releases the drag and it clangs down, scraping noisily against the slick and worn cobblestones. Someone in an upper storey leans out the window and yells at you to “Shut the ‘llosh up!” but Adelfi ignores them.
You turn right onto the Gate Road, stow the drag, and, passing farm carts heading toward the Public Market, you continue left to a bridge over the Sebu River, which, at high tide, laps at the shore road. You enter the Crossings, and pass the West Garrison, where Khazaran soldiers moodily stand guard. They walk out in front of the coach and you stop. Flint speaks with them quietly and hands them each a small bag of silver, and you continue on past Prince’s Arbor, the Temple of Ritha Demsha, and thence to the City Gate at Red Cove Beach.
The gates are still closed, the garrison guard asleep at his post. Flint coughs loudly, looking straight ahead. The man rouses, and scratching himself, slowly walks to Flint, who drops more silver into his hands, and he slowly raises the portcullis and you pass out of Ishi Ammah, as, outside the gate, farmers with carts loaded high who have been quietly waiting, shoulder their loads or lead their heavy horses in the opposite direction. For the first time in weeks, you are beyond the city walls, and the first thing you notice is the immediate freshness of the air, no longer imbued with the ever-present sewer smell which you had forgotten was there.
You travel on the Orracan high road, which hugs the coast just beyond the sand dunes bordering the beach, sometimes obscuring your view of the gulf, but at other times, the road rises atop an embankment and there is a view of the grey ocean under the grey sky, and you see rain approaching the shore as you go. There is a brief downpour, but it soon passes, as do the clouds, and the sun begins to break through as the water takes on a mottled grey and clear blue hue. On your right for the first two hours of your journey are farmlands as far as you can see, reaching for miles northeast toward the coastal range of hills, farmlands whose harvests are loaded into wagons which drive down this very road to feed the enormous city behind you. In these morning hours you pass a parade of such wagons, riders, and locals on foot going the other direction, to feed Ishi Ammah, or to do business in the city. A messenger on horseback canters past you carrying letters up the coast, and soon a local horse and buggy pair driven by a schoolmarmish-looking dwarf woman passes you, then turns up a local road. These side roads lead almost all to your right, some, private, blocked by wooden fences, and others you can see leading inland to small hamlets and villages. Another messenger on horseback, this one armed and armored, in Jenghen blue, gallops past you away from the city as you now see out on the water, ships entering and leaving port now that the fog has lifted and the brief shower passed.
As you escape the city’s confines, you notice Flint and Wad, mile by mile, seeming to lower their guard, their shoulders and posture relaxing somewhat, tension in their faces melding away. Likewise, Aderfi, who although you’ve only just met him, seems, by far, better fitted to life in the wilds than in the city, and he speaks to the horses from time to time, words of encouragement, or chiding, sometimes even joking with them, as if they are old friends. But for the most part he keeps to himself and speaks, seemingly, as infrequently, and with as few words as possible.
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Ednyss takes a deep breath of fresh air. Sitting with Mittens (preferably in one of the forward facing seats on top of the carriage), he is stroking his hand through his white beard as he enjoys the view. After some small talk, he'll pull out his cards and say, "Last time we tried this we were interrupted by a Frost Giant. Maybe this time we can finish our game." He clarifies, "No bets. Just like last time." If Mittens agrees, he begins to deal out the cards as he watches the horizon for anyone or anything that approaches their carriage. He is ruminating on what Dolkum said, but now that they have left the city, there is little they can do about any of this assassin business, at least that he can think of.
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
Perhaps we ought to set up a watch schedule?
Ednyss glances over his shoulder and responds to Dolkum, "I highly doubt anything or anyone would have the audacity to attack is in broad daylight. Even if they did, we can see for miles now that we are out of the city. We'll notice them coming well before they arrive."
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
So it shall be, Dolkum replies to Ednyss, with a smile...
At the offer of the card game, Mittens shrugs and says, "Sure, why not?" He isn't terribly familiar with the game, and asks a lot of clarifying questions at the start, but he learns the rules fairly quickly. Pooky is curled up on his lap, stuffed tail whipping lazily in the air and watches the cards with the usual indifference of felines. As they continue along, Mittens asks Dolkum and Ednyss, "So, what were y'all doing before all this craziness happened? I know you and I were part of the Imperial army," he gestures towards Ednyss, "but what before that?"
The issue of the assassins lingers in the back of his mind like a persistent headache, but he puts off thinking about it. He actually makes better connections between information when he wasn't focusing on it.
DM- Azalin's Doom
DM- Surviving the Unsurvivable
Ednyss is more than happy to teach the cat, and Mittens is an extraordinarily fast learner (by his standards). Ednyss cocks his head to the side at Mitten's question, "Not much really. Between my service at the Temple of Takal Demesh in Ishi Ammah and my helping out Ingrid with her smithy, most of my time before conscription was accounted for. Before that..." he trails off for a few moments getting lost in his own thoughts before returning to the conversation, "well that was a long time ago." There is a look of nostalgia on his face as if he misses something, but there is a hardness behind it that is difficult to place. He returns his attention to the cards and waits for Dolkum's response.
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”
I grew up in the Capital. My parents are mercenaries , as are most of my cousins, so we learned how to use weapons and armour in our ankle biting days. After that I I followed my sister into the seminary.
Dolkum thoroughly enjoys the card game...
POST #3 - Travel Day 1. (3rd of Beauty)
The ride along the Orracan High Road is smooth, for the gravelly paving is kept in good repair this close to the city. As if in answer to the question of how, you pass by two chain gangs repairing damage to the roads under the watch of mounted imperial sorcerers. Ednyss recognizes one of the members of the first chain gang as the hooligans who tried to run off with the bag of gold at the arena. The man doesn’t recognize Ednyss, or even look up. He just keeps filling ditches.
There are many travelers on the road. You pass some walkers, and are likewise passed by a variety of faster-moving small coaches and horsemen and women traveling alone, carrying messages, or in a rush for no discernable reason.
Most of the forests which once lined the coast were burned decades ago, or longer, to make way for farming, and as Ishi Ammah grew, the extent of people’s claims on the land grew with it. Nowadays, farmlands and pastures are broken only by a few patches of Argania woods and swamps. Off the road are farmhouses beyond private gates, sometimes with partitions carefully built up to discourage visitors from the road. Some landowners have dug wells beside the road, so that travelers could water their horses and themselves drink, especially in the hot summer months, without the need to venture off the high road. Most of the population of Orraca u Shia lives on the coast, and in addition to the farms, you pass a few small hamlets and villages as you go. From time to time, you pass a copse of argania trees which has flourished bountifully, a brook running through it, and you see, far from the road, an enclosure has grown up among the larger branches, forming a spacious rounded capsule or room, walled by branches and topped by thick leaves, which you surmise is the home of an elf family.
The clouds pass quickly and through most of the day the sky is crisp and blue. Only as the sun begins to near the horizon does a grey smudge of clouds on the horizon over the gulf begin to advance toward the coast once again.
As the sun begins to set, the sky is overcast and a fog is rolling in. You’ve traveled a good 20 miles at an easy pace. The horses are doing well, and you could keep going if you wanted to, but you reach the goal Blueschist had set: the small coastal town of Asilah, which stands behind coastal walls atop a tall escarpment, near a stream at the towns other end which empties into the gulf. There is a central convent, a temple to Ulella, and surrounding it, winding streets along which interconnected homes, built of red adobe or red rock over wooden frames, rise upon the red-clay hillside, with whitewashed exteriors and brightly painted doorways, many with colorful tilework bordering the entrances. This town is a busy waypoint for travelers to or from Ishi Ammah, as either by coach or by foot, it can be reached in one day's time.
As you arrive, you presume there is no sewer system here, as many inhabitants are emptying the contents of chamber pots over the wall to the sea below, and a few children are simply relieving themselves outright over the edge of the precipice.
Just before you enter the town’s main street, outside the walls, is a sprawling tavern beside a large Inn, toward whose stables Amistan Aderfi steers the carriage, after Tuff Blueschist clambours out of the passenger compartment and enters the Inn to arrange for your lodgings. He soon returns, and points you to the Asilah Seaside Tavarn to take your evening meal.
(OOC: Something non-threatening happens while you are on the road. All please roll Perception and Insight checks.)
(OOC: Is there anything more you wish to do while travelling or upon arrival in Asilah BEFORE entering the tavern, which will happen in my next post?)
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Perception: 13
Insight: 5 (Apparently Varielky had proficiency in this. I totally get why I made sure she had it but didn't remember that I did. Surprise, I guess.)
Varielky was silent almost the entire day. She didn't speak much nor played with the others. She's a bit off. Dreamy, perhaps, as if her mind is elsewhere. When Tuff points everyone towards the inn, she just nods and follows.
(OOC: Readying for when I'm gone. I'm still here until I say otherwise, however, in case something happens by that time.)
Varielky
Perception 6
Insight 22
Slaves in chains building the roads. 'tis a sorry sight indeed, there has to be a better way than this....
((Mittens doesn't have anything to do at the moment.))
Perception (advantage with Pooky's help): 11
At Eolkum's statement, Mittens shrugs and says, "Slavery sucks, but it's the world we live in. Somebody's got to do the work."
DM- Azalin's Doom
DM- Surviving the Unsurvivable
Perception: 18
Insight: 10
To Dolkum and Mittens conversation he just remarks, "These are not innocent people. They are people that have been found guilty of breaking the law and this is their repentance." Ednyss is not fully sure of that, but it seems a logical conclusion given the placement of the hooligan as part of the chain gang.
Ednyss just keeps his eyes open as they play cards. As they approach the town of Asilah, Ednyss is pleasantly surprised to see that there first meal will be at an actual tavern and heads there with the others. Along the way, however, he keeps his eyes open for any places of gambling that might be open as he hadn't been able to test his odds since the Beauty Pageant and he was looking for a bit more relaxation after the stressful night they had before.
Perception (For a Place of Gambling): 25
“The mark of a successful DM is when you have caused more player deaths with doors than dragons, demons, or devils.”