silentspace
First Post
The late summer sun’s warm rays lull you into a sense of peace as the caravan travels on. As the afternoon comes to an end, the caravan stops near a stream. A fire is prepared, and soon the boar is on a large spit, roasting over the fire.
The wagons are arranged in a circle, facing outward. The inside of the ring is a circle about 60 feet across. The wagons are spaced about five feet apart from each other.
Half the drivers remain on their wagons at any given time, keeping an eye out. The wagon horses are let loose and allowed to water themselves and graze. They cavort about a bit, glad to be free of their harnesses. It is the horses who are the first to discover a small grove of wild pear trees, bearing ripe fruit, and start eating them right off the trees. Some caravan guards go out and collect a basket full of pears to go along with dinner.
After their little bit of fun, the horses return to circle the caravan, standing near their wagons. The horses are trained animals, and will not wander far. They stay within about a hundred feet of the wagons. If they pick up anything with their scent, they will whinny and alert the caravan, Mirena tells you.
Several guards and drivers, including Mirena, help with the cooking. Bert goes to join them. Mirena jumps with joy when Bert comes to help, and hugs him warmly. Mirena seems particularly adept at cooking, and happily stands next to Bert, touching the little halfling often as they cook together. Somewhere in the middle of this she holds Bert’s little hand for a minute, before reluctantly letting it go to expertly grind some more herbs and spices, seasonings for the boar meat.
Mirena tells Bert “I think I… I mean I want to… I would like to worship Fharlangan, like you do, and travel the world. Do you think you could teach me, like Pellir taught you? Can two worshippers of Fharlangan travel together? Or do they need to travel alone?” Her voice squeaks just a bit on the word alone. Several other drivers are beginning to notice Mirena’s interest in the little halfling, but no one says anything about it. They mostly just nod to themselves, or shrug their shoulders.
Glendrake and his companions exit the carriage to stretch and walk around. There is a tall, wiry human woman with short cropped blonde hair, wearing chainmail and carrying a spear. Mirena tells you her name is Thevin, Glendrake’s personal bodyguard and assistant. The other is a female gnome in rich orange robes, her long blonde hair piled high in a stylish bun. You learn from Mirena that her name is Mavdeno. Rowyn and Bert think she might be from Sycamore Falls, where some of the gnomes are said to favor orange robes. They have heard tales of the great, secretive gnomish fortress there, and the fantastic advances in alchemy and constructs that the gnomes are said to have made.
A table and chairs are set up in the center of the wagon circle for the three of them, and they sit around and chat. Everyone else gives the table a fairly wide berth, usually staying at least twenty feet away, and rarely coming closer than ten. Observing them from a distance, you can see that Mavdeno and Glendrake are associates, but not necessarily friends.
Mavdeno studies the group, then stands up and approaches Alan. “I am Mavdeno, of Sycamore Falls. I see you have a wound upon your leg. As you might know, Sycamore Falls provides healing salve for the armies of Shillen. Allow me to apply some to your wound.” She reaches into her pouch and pulls out a small canister. She opens it, dipping her finger to scoop up some of the brownish-yellow paste, and applies it to Alan’s wound. It has a slight scent like honey. She wipes her fingers on a silk handkerchief, and puts the rest of her salve away. By the time she's done, Alan’s wounds are fully healed.
The wagons are arranged in a circle, facing outward. The inside of the ring is a circle about 60 feet across. The wagons are spaced about five feet apart from each other.
Half the drivers remain on their wagons at any given time, keeping an eye out. The wagon horses are let loose and allowed to water themselves and graze. They cavort about a bit, glad to be free of their harnesses. It is the horses who are the first to discover a small grove of wild pear trees, bearing ripe fruit, and start eating them right off the trees. Some caravan guards go out and collect a basket full of pears to go along with dinner.
After their little bit of fun, the horses return to circle the caravan, standing near their wagons. The horses are trained animals, and will not wander far. They stay within about a hundred feet of the wagons. If they pick up anything with their scent, they will whinny and alert the caravan, Mirena tells you.
Several guards and drivers, including Mirena, help with the cooking. Bert goes to join them. Mirena jumps with joy when Bert comes to help, and hugs him warmly. Mirena seems particularly adept at cooking, and happily stands next to Bert, touching the little halfling often as they cook together. Somewhere in the middle of this she holds Bert’s little hand for a minute, before reluctantly letting it go to expertly grind some more herbs and spices, seasonings for the boar meat.
Mirena tells Bert “I think I… I mean I want to… I would like to worship Fharlangan, like you do, and travel the world. Do you think you could teach me, like Pellir taught you? Can two worshippers of Fharlangan travel together? Or do they need to travel alone?” Her voice squeaks just a bit on the word alone. Several other drivers are beginning to notice Mirena’s interest in the little halfling, but no one says anything about it. They mostly just nod to themselves, or shrug their shoulders.
Glendrake and his companions exit the carriage to stretch and walk around. There is a tall, wiry human woman with short cropped blonde hair, wearing chainmail and carrying a spear. Mirena tells you her name is Thevin, Glendrake’s personal bodyguard and assistant. The other is a female gnome in rich orange robes, her long blonde hair piled high in a stylish bun. You learn from Mirena that her name is Mavdeno. Rowyn and Bert think she might be from Sycamore Falls, where some of the gnomes are said to favor orange robes. They have heard tales of the great, secretive gnomish fortress there, and the fantastic advances in alchemy and constructs that the gnomes are said to have made.
A table and chairs are set up in the center of the wagon circle for the three of them, and they sit around and chat. Everyone else gives the table a fairly wide berth, usually staying at least twenty feet away, and rarely coming closer than ten. Observing them from a distance, you can see that Mavdeno and Glendrake are associates, but not necessarily friends.
Mavdeno studies the group, then stands up and approaches Alan. “I am Mavdeno, of Sycamore Falls. I see you have a wound upon your leg. As you might know, Sycamore Falls provides healing salve for the armies of Shillen. Allow me to apply some to your wound.” She reaches into her pouch and pulls out a small canister. She opens it, dipping her finger to scoop up some of the brownish-yellow paste, and applies it to Alan’s wound. It has a slight scent like honey. She wipes her fingers on a silk handkerchief, and puts the rest of her salve away. By the time she's done, Alan’s wounds are fully healed.
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