Watermark's Sunless Citadel: IC Thread

OOC: Let's go, caravan riders! We need some background!

Imrehsa smiled. Probably for the first time in a long time. A few days ago, she had been running from minions of that accursed temple, but today? Today she is allowed to relax. At least as far as running goes. She would hunt them soon enough. That much she was sure of. Between killing her new master and destroying the temple they resided in, one didn't need a seer to figure out what came next. Vengeance. She would find the leaders of this temple and eradicate them, though not for a very long time. Imrehsa knew she had some work to do before that ever happened, that and her vision told her so.

Imrehsa's vision. The very thing that got her into this mess in the first place. Anyone who had enough common sense could see possible futures, but not like Imrehsa. No, she saw the most likely future and was almost never wrong. She could have helped her family, earned a living guiding the village, anything but be trained how to exploit other people with her abilities. By the gods, she could have even been a gypsy fortuneteller and a real good one at that. No, Imrehsa had to be taken away, had to be stolen from any dreams she could have had. Now, in order to defeat her enemy, she has to become like them. Figuring that the first thing she should do is get out of her homeland, Imrehsa hitched a ride with this merchant. A Master Gort. A likeable fellow, but his manners needed some work, especially around young ladies.

Awakening from her reverie, Imrehsa scanned the road ahead. She could see the caravan's outriders and they were as bored as she was. There were some others travelling with her that didn't look like they originally belonged to Gort's menagerie, but instead of presuming, Imrehsa kept to herself. At least for now. If she found out one of them knew anything about home, things would change.

Imrehsa dodged to the side as a rock kicked up by the wagon in front of her flew towards her face. She simply smiled and shrugged as one of the guards eyed her curiously. Not that he could see her smile, it was covered by a black cloth. The last piece of her master's hiroka as the temple was burning around her. A tear came to her eye, but she quickly wiped it away. There was no time for the past, only the future mattered now.

Valeria is confortably seated in the front wagon of Master Gort.

"What you have to do to get a free ride, one thing for sure that old merchant won't even touch one of my hair. After all my presence seems to be enough to keep him happy." Thinks Valeria looking at the old men sitting in front of her.

She makes him a big large smiles.

"I have been traveling the country without any destination for the last two months and I don't think that if I stay with this caravan much will happen. Next stop I am out of here hopefully for something a bit more exciting".

Valeria always has problem staying at one place or with the same persons for too long, her freedom is too important and too long relationship are an obstacle to her freedom.

Arathar, Elven Fighter

Arathar sits atop the last caravan, with his keen eye watching the path behind them. He has his shortbow readied, arrow knocked and set to let fly at the first sign of trouble. Ever since that goblin raid on Mathar's caravan last summer, Arathar knows better than to leave their rear flank unguarded.

As he pulls out his waterskin and takes a quick sip to quench his thirst, Arathar thinks back to the last few days. His caravan duty on Balak's shipment of spices from Steeplechase to Blackcrest was one of the most uneventful and boring trips he has taken yet. And after yet another uneventful weekend layover in Blackcrest, "which had nary a bandit or brigand in sight," thinks Arathar, he hoped that Gort's offer for guard duty on this caravan would be more eventful.

*sigh* "I guess that is not to be" speaks Arathar aloud to the air. "I would even take a slightly-dangerous looking wolf to this inaction," he thinks. "Maybe it is time to stop with these inanely boring caravan guarding jobs. My hopes of practicing my skills are coming to waste. Still, I do need to feed, and 2 silver a day is better at no silver at all. When nightfall comes, maybe the rest of the caravan's crew will at least allow me to enjoy some lively conversation."

Galstadt Trustryke : Male Human Conjurer 1

Galstadt rode on his wagon while reading in his spell book. he knew that should anything happen, that someone else would sound the alarm. Master Gort had hired him to not only provide magic support in case of an attack but to also entertain the crew in the evening. Although he wondered how they would react to yet another performance of his prestidigitation. Although he could do a number of different things with the spell, he was starting to run out of ideas. Perhaps something would attack and break the monotony of the trip. Then he could show his true colors as a wizard.

He glanced up from his reading to look at the others around him. Then he looked from side to side. Finally he returned to his studies.

Imrehsa took a big sigh. It would probably be another day before they reached town. What was it Gort had said? Oakheart? Treehurst? Oakhurst. That was it. She briefly considered trying to see if anything exciting was in store for them, but decided against it. Just once she would like to have been surprised. Taking another sigh she dug around the wagon for the rock she dodged earlier. Picking it up, she turned it over in her hand a few times before tossing it up in the air and catching it. No, still bored. Spying a small broom, Imrehsa became inspired.

Crack!! The broom snapped as the rock went sailing through the air. Quickly ducking inside the wagon, she almost swore, realizing that was her only rock. That was intelligent, wasn't it?

Imrehsa took another big sigh.

Arathar, Elven Fighter

"... should be setting up camp soon..." thought Arathar when a crack from afar interrupted his thoughts. Instinctively turning around, Arathar trained his shortbow on the area where the sound came from. He surveyed the fore of the caravan, but saw nothing of danger. "Oh well, looks like my hopes of some excitement has been dashed again..."

Still watching the front of the caravan, Arathar spies a female human with her black hair tied back in a ponytail, wielding what appeared to be a broken broom? "Huh" Arathar thought with a grin spreading across his face. "Looks like I am not the only one trying to keep myself distracted from the boredom."

Tucked away in one of the wagons, Gethin tossed the small ball of twine he had picked up into the corner of the wagon. He was rewarded by a skittering sound as Rhavad chased after it, snagging it with its little claws it grinned at Gethin and walked slowly back, teasing the slow bat-druid. This was a game they played all the time, although Gethin had to usually replace the ball of twine regularly cause Rhavad would shred the thing from time to time with his sharp claws.

Master Gort let me come along, he's definately nice for that. Quiet too, quiet is good.

His thoughts are interrupted by a loud crack and he jumps, startled, Rhavad looks at him quizzically as if nothing could possibly be wrong on such a boring journey.

The furrowed road winds and turns as Gort's merchant caravan makes its way eastward in the summer heat. The land is hilly and lush with green grass, and a few stands of oak dot the landscape. There has been little excitement on the journey of ten days, and the few farmhouses and herds of grazing cattle do little to relieve the monotony. The humid air becomes slightly more bearable as the sun begins to set, bringing into view a welcome sign of civilization. Oakhurst, it was called by Master Gort; a small town stopover used by travellers in need of a meal, lodging or supplies. The red glow of the setting sun bathes the simple wooden buildings in a warm light. It's not much, but after a tenday of oppressive heat, road dust and trail rations, the town is a welcome sight indeed.

The wagons pull to a halt on the edge of town, and Gort dismounts with his usual, terse word of instruction. "We leave again day after next, at sunrise. Your time's yours until then, be here if you're coming along, 'cause we won't wait." He and a few sweaty laborers begin to unload wares from the wagons, leaving the party to its own devices.

Actions?

"That's it, I am out of here. You could leave now and I wouldn't care old men"She thinks

Valeria heads for the town not really bothering about the other people in the caravan. She will try to find her way to the nearest pub.