pneumatik's WotBS 1 - The Scouring of Gate Pass

Arkhandus

First Post
"Where is your camp?" Liiros the Large demands of the bandits.

After a moment, he turns his head slightly to call back to the rest of the group, "Do we really want to bother going to their camp before we leave?" but faces Kathor enough to keep an eye on him while he does so.
 

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Rhun

First Post
"I hate to state the obvious," says Hollister, "but we may well find ourselves in need of coin should the pursuit continue." The wizard strokes his goatee and considers. "My vote is for a quick detour to their camp, and then onward into the wilds. The more distance we can put between ourselves and Gate Pass, the better."
 

pneumatik

The 8th Evil Sage
Kathor sighs. "Our camp is back up that trail," he says. He tries to point at the small trail where the mercenary scouts were hiding at the start of ambush but only entangles himself further. "We would appreciate it if you left us our tents and other supplies."
 

Arkhandus

First Post
"Of course. We're not bandits like you. Coin is of little concern to me. But if we need it to buy supplies later, so be it," Liiros replies. He picks up the weapons dropped by the mercenaries and carries them over to the group, for others to carry some.
 


pneumatik

The 8th Evil Sage
"I don't know if these guys have anything left to tell us," Torrent says. "Hollister, you want to let these guys go before we leave, or should be leave them hanging in the wind? It's a cold wind, but then they did try to kill us. Twice."
 

Thanee

First Post
Lytha

“We will have to keep the horses, of course. For one, they will be useful to us. And more importantly, we do not want them to be able to quickly get word back to the Scourge. Tents, supplies, sure. Let them keep those. Even some of the weapons would be fine, if you ask me.”
 


pneumatik

The 8th Evil Sage
The party heads off towards the Black Horse Mercenaries' camp, leaving the mercenaries themselves mostly stuck in a magic web. The trail to the camp cuts through a narrow ravine before opening up and turning into a rough game trail over rocky terrain. The wind cuts at any exposed skin and the environment offers little shelter. Leaving the road you feel the mountains towering over you, humbling you with their indifference.

During the walk Torrent stops for a moment to cast a healing spell on herself. "Anyone else need help?" she asks.

After a little over a mile of travel you reach the camp. It's in a grotto with several small tunnels carved into the walls, each sealed off with a locked iron gate. Those of you who've lived in Gate Pass for a few years recognize it as where people place the unopened clay jars from the Festival of Dreams. In addition to the expected clay jars from past years' Festivals, inside one tunnel you see what looks like a person sleeping, wrapped in a ragged sheet.[sblock=Festival of Dreams]Gate Pass has its share of holidays; the most prominent is the Festival of Dreams, a holy day observed by all of the city’s major temples on New Year’s Day. Parades march from either end of the city, stopping at the grand square on Summer’s Bluff just before sunset for a ceremony in which the high priests of each of eight different temples “offer up the dreams of the people.”

Each citizen is encouraged to write a prayer or hope on a slip of paper and place it in a small clay urn, which the city produces by the thousands every year. People deliver their urns to Summer’s Bluff in the days leading up to the festival. During the festival, each high priest chooses one urn, breaks it open, reads the prayer held within, and pledges to fulfill that dream if possible during the next year. Selfish requests are frowned upon, and often the city takes great glee in perverting the words of selfish prayers, fulfilling the adage “be careful what you wish for.”

The rest of the urns are left in the center of the square, and citizens are encouraged to pick one up and try to fulfill someone else’s wish. The morning after the festival, those left unopened are carted en masse to the countless small caves that dot the cliffs around the city, where they are buried. Many folk tales involve stories of these buried dreams coming to life and bringing good fortune, though most adults of the city view these as merely superstition.[/sblock]As for the camp itself, there are eight light horses, huddled under blankets, and a half-dozen tents with cold cookfires near them.


[sblock=ooc]Make search checks if you're looking around the camp for loot, or other checks or actions as appropriate.[/sblock]
 

Thanee

First Post
Lytha

“How very useful. With those horses, our journey will go so much easier,” Lytha remarks. “At least these brigands can offer decent compensation for their wrongdoings.”

When they search the campsite, she will help looking around.


OOC: Search 16
 

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