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Six From Gate Pass - Chapter 3: Shelter From The Storm
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The Bashar
First Post
Hrimr is startled by the brazen outburst of the two Knights. They seem to see enemies everywhere, thankfully the Baron is not so paranoid. But with the Wizards request for an object it appears that the party is not completely above suspicion.
"I don't see why you must be able to track us down. But if it will allow our party to continue on our way then here."
With that Hrimr stands up and grabs his winter cloak and cuts off an square inch of fabric. He tosses it onto the table in front of the wizard.
"Is that sufficent?" He says with a not so subtle hint of indignation.
"I don't see why you must be able to track us down. But if it will allow our party to continue on our way then here."
With that Hrimr stands up and grabs his winter cloak and cuts off an square inch of fabric. He tosses it onto the table in front of the wizard.
"Is that sufficent?" He says with a not so subtle hint of indignation.
Thomas collects the piece of cloth and places it into a leather pouch on his belt. With a smile he says: "Have no worries master dwarf, we are not interested in hounding you on your journey. However, the events you participated in must be communicated to Lady Timor so that she may be made aware of any and all potential risks to her lands. Should she wish to speak with you, then it will be much easier to locate you magically if we have something from your person."
The Baron nods and stands up, "I believe we are finished here. The servants will show you to your quarters. I would ask that you complete your business and be on your way tomorrow. The less contact you have with certain members of my council, the better. For everyone's sake. Good day."
With that, the Baron, Sir Delphin and Lady Bronwyn leave and servants arrive to take you to some spartan accommodations in the upper floors of the tower. Meals are scheduled for later in the evening and you are free to come and go at your leisure. Thomas arrives at Arnir's room sometime later and invites him back to his office to continue the discussion and sharing of arcane wisdom.
The Baron nods and stands up, "I believe we are finished here. The servants will show you to your quarters. I would ask that you complete your business and be on your way tomorrow. The less contact you have with certain members of my council, the better. For everyone's sake. Good day."
With that, the Baron, Sir Delphin and Lady Bronwyn leave and servants arrive to take you to some spartan accommodations in the upper floors of the tower. Meals are scheduled for later in the evening and you are free to come and go at your leisure. Thomas arrives at Arnir's room sometime later and invites him back to his office to continue the discussion and sharing of arcane wisdom.
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The Bashar
First Post
After the meeting Hrimr goes to see Bannock.
"Here's that Strength potion Bannock. Save it until you really have to shove that glaive down someone's throat! You owe me 75 gold for it as well. Once we get some more gold I will try and make some more for the party. Have a good night, see you in the morning."
With that Hrimr retires to his chamber for the evening.
"Here's that Strength potion Bannock. Save it until you really have to shove that glaive down someone's throat! You owe me 75 gold for it as well. Once we get some more gold I will try and make some more for the party. Have a good night, see you in the morning."
With that Hrimr retires to his chamber for the evening.
funkmamagoat
First Post
Kirio, a little boggled at the quick handing over of a scrying object, shrugs and decides to go to bed. The attention of the nobility has always been a good indicator of when to get the hell outa town.
Bannock reels back and clutches his heart as if he's having a cardiac arrest. If he had any drink in his mouth, he'd have uncontrollably sprayed it all over Hrimr.
"SEVENTY FIVE GOLD!!? Kord's cock! With that much I could live like a prince for a month, man! That's more than I have to my name! Keep your potion and sell it to some rich fop who can afford it! Fifteen minutes of extra power isn't worth a king's ransom!"
Bannock staggers down the hallway, still muttering in disbelief.
"SEVENTY FIVE GOLD!!? Kord's cock! With that much I could live like a prince for a month, man! That's more than I have to my name! Keep your potion and sell it to some rich fop who can afford it! Fifteen minutes of extra power isn't worth a king's ransom!"
Bannock staggers down the hallway, still muttering in disbelief.
The Bashar
First Post
Hrimr thinks back to the morning.
Hrimr stands in the hall, potion in hand, staring at the back of Bannock as he walks away ranting.
"I guess he spent all his money on drink and women. Oh well I guess I will hold onto the potion for the time being. I guess no one told him adventuring was an exepensive endeavour."
Hrimr stands in the hall, potion in hand, staring at the back of Bannock as he walks away ranting.
"I guess he spent all his money on drink and women. Oh well I guess I will hold onto the potion for the time being. I guess no one told him adventuring was an exepensive endeavour."
digimattic
First Post
Arnir is rather happy to be out of the office and follows Thomas to his study, spending about 6 hours chatting with his colleage and furiously copying arcane glyphs and notes into his spellbook. Upon finishing, he collects his possessions and heads over to see the rest of his party, coinpurse much lighter than when he arrived. Upon meeting them, he hands the six original party members a stack of 75 GP from the sale of the various treasures that had been collected.
Eyeing the food, he nods to Torrent appreciatively "Good thing you've got this- my rations are spent! Is there anything else we need to take care of before leaving? I'm growing bored of this place."
Eyeing the food, he nods to Torrent appreciatively "Good thing you've got this- my rations are spent! Is there anything else we need to take care of before leaving? I'm growing bored of this place."
Hopefully we won't have to play an axe throwing game with a smarmy dwarf. Actually...hopefully we DO! At first light, the party is awoken by servants and guards and brought down to the kitchens. Freshly baked bread, dried meat and ale is provided to break your fast and you are then escorted out of the building. The stablemaster presents Lars his mule, a sorry-looking shaggy grey beast, and a sturdy wooden cart. The group then walks back down through the small town, stopping at relevant shops to pick up the many packages and bags of food Torrent purchased, as well as new clothes or any other good that was awaiting retrieval. Finally, with the cart filled with goods and your packs lightened for the trip, you march out of East Watch and head south across the Kingdom of Dassen.
Your travels are largely uneventful and mostly overland. Once you skirt the Thornwood, you spend the majority of your time walking across naturally sloping valleys and hills that are populated by not much more than farms, streams and small clusters of woods. Your nights are spent camping beneath the stars and the weather is largely pleasant. On a few different evenings you manage to sleep in kindly farmers’ barns amidst mooing cows on beds of hay. You pass bands of refugees from Ragesia, who huddle together for warmth at night and travel with only the clothes on their backs. Those that you speak with tell you of their flight from the Scourge for their ‘abilities’ or ‘gifts’ and tell you that they head for Seaquen and the protection that the Lyceum offers for those who seek refuge there. Apparently the headmaster, a man named Simeon, has proclaimed that the school will fight the Scourge and others are being called upon to do the same. When you stop into small towns or fishing communities along the coast, you are unable to procure naval passage to Seaquen. Most sailors are simple folk who fear the intensified military presence on the seas and you find that no merchant vessels have stopped into port for weeks.
You pass out of Lady Timor’s domain and trudge through the lands of Rego, Namin and briefly across the peninsula of Megadon. At the icy Nasham River you cross via a ferry and enter the lands of Dene where you once again continue to march south. Once you pass through the Idemmer Wood, Torrent informs you that according to her maps, the party has exited the Kingdom of Dassen and must now travel down the independent lands that surround the Town of Seaquen, where the magical academy of Lyceum exists.
The weather this far south turns temperate and slightly warm and the land quickly becomes marshy, swampy and scattered with craggy rocks and gnarled trees. Your travel down the peninsula is along an old dirt road which ends at a village on the edge of the vast Sour Lake Swamp, a steaming morass that stretches as far as your eyes can see. A constant drizzle falls on you and after almost three weeks of walking, your feet are sore and your now wet clothes and hair have become a serious cause for annoyance. The village, called Vidor on your map, is little more than a shanty town with a few moss-covered wooden buildings that contain small shops. Perhaps forty refugees huddle around peat fires beside the muddy road or lay around miserably in damp tents.
As you walk into the village, a number of shop keeps and townsfolk call out to you with offers and warnings. You hear things like: “Headin’ to Seaquen my lords? You’ll need some boats! I have good prices!”, “Maps of the swamp, only 5 pieces of gold”, “Come and see my wares good sirs and madam, I have gator tooth pendants to ward away all evil!” “Listen not to that fool my friends, he can craft only doors not boats. I will give you a free keg for every three boats you buy. I’ll even throw in the beer for free!”
It is quite clear that you have entered a town where the economy is based on the flood of humanity heading south to Seaquen.
Your travels are largely uneventful and mostly overland. Once you skirt the Thornwood, you spend the majority of your time walking across naturally sloping valleys and hills that are populated by not much more than farms, streams and small clusters of woods. Your nights are spent camping beneath the stars and the weather is largely pleasant. On a few different evenings you manage to sleep in kindly farmers’ barns amidst mooing cows on beds of hay. You pass bands of refugees from Ragesia, who huddle together for warmth at night and travel with only the clothes on their backs. Those that you speak with tell you of their flight from the Scourge for their ‘abilities’ or ‘gifts’ and tell you that they head for Seaquen and the protection that the Lyceum offers for those who seek refuge there. Apparently the headmaster, a man named Simeon, has proclaimed that the school will fight the Scourge and others are being called upon to do the same. When you stop into small towns or fishing communities along the coast, you are unable to procure naval passage to Seaquen. Most sailors are simple folk who fear the intensified military presence on the seas and you find that no merchant vessels have stopped into port for weeks.
You pass out of Lady Timor’s domain and trudge through the lands of Rego, Namin and briefly across the peninsula of Megadon. At the icy Nasham River you cross via a ferry and enter the lands of Dene where you once again continue to march south. Once you pass through the Idemmer Wood, Torrent informs you that according to her maps, the party has exited the Kingdom of Dassen and must now travel down the independent lands that surround the Town of Seaquen, where the magical academy of Lyceum exists.
The weather this far south turns temperate and slightly warm and the land quickly becomes marshy, swampy and scattered with craggy rocks and gnarled trees. Your travel down the peninsula is along an old dirt road which ends at a village on the edge of the vast Sour Lake Swamp, a steaming morass that stretches as far as your eyes can see. A constant drizzle falls on you and after almost three weeks of walking, your feet are sore and your now wet clothes and hair have become a serious cause for annoyance. The village, called Vidor on your map, is little more than a shanty town with a few moss-covered wooden buildings that contain small shops. Perhaps forty refugees huddle around peat fires beside the muddy road or lay around miserably in damp tents.
As you walk into the village, a number of shop keeps and townsfolk call out to you with offers and warnings. You hear things like: “Headin’ to Seaquen my lords? You’ll need some boats! I have good prices!”, “Maps of the swamp, only 5 pieces of gold”, “Come and see my wares good sirs and madam, I have gator tooth pendants to ward away all evil!” “Listen not to that fool my friends, he can craft only doors not boats. I will give you a free keg for every three boats you buy. I’ll even throw in the beer for free!”
It is quite clear that you have entered a town where the economy is based on the flood of humanity heading south to Seaquen.
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