seriousmoonlight
Explorer
Rogue Gallery
OOC
World Map
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You’re convinced the wagon will break soon. The creaking of wood boards and the wobbling of wheels are the only sounds on this peaceful spring night. The transport cost, mere coppers, seemed like such a steal at the time.
The driver is a scrawny man dressed in rags.The wild mop of hair hides his eyes, but not the hooked nose. You don’t know his real name, but he insists on being called Spuds. This moniker is fitting as you share the back of the wagon with five other travelers and a mountain of potatoes. There are enough of them to sleep upon or hide beneath, but not eat. Spuds is adamant about that.
You've been traveling down the coast, along the High Road, for days. Eventually you come across a tree with three arrow-shaped signs nailed to it. The two marked "Waterdeep" and "Daggerford" follow the High Road, but point in opposite directions. The third, marked "Nightstone," beckons you to follow a separate forest trail.
“Not much further now,” Spuds proclaims as the wagon turns inland. He eyes the passengers and cargo nervously. “You best not be swiping Spud’s spuds!”
OOC
World Map
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You’re convinced the wagon will break soon. The creaking of wood boards and the wobbling of wheels are the only sounds on this peaceful spring night. The transport cost, mere coppers, seemed like such a steal at the time.
The driver is a scrawny man dressed in rags.The wild mop of hair hides his eyes, but not the hooked nose. You don’t know his real name, but he insists on being called Spuds. This moniker is fitting as you share the back of the wagon with five other travelers and a mountain of potatoes. There are enough of them to sleep upon or hide beneath, but not eat. Spuds is adamant about that.
You've been traveling down the coast, along the High Road, for days. Eventually you come across a tree with three arrow-shaped signs nailed to it. The two marked "Waterdeep" and "Daggerford" follow the High Road, but point in opposite directions. The third, marked "Nightstone," beckons you to follow a separate forest trail.
“Not much further now,” Spuds proclaims as the wagon turns inland. He eyes the passengers and cargo nervously. “You best not be swiping Spud’s spuds!”