enn.in.me wrote:Is this a uniform every before seen by Arpad?
Arpad
Re: Arpad
Arpad makes a good mental note of their uniform and armaments, and continues forth. Seeing anyone he recognizes as official along the road, he will stop and ask who these foreign soldiers might be. Barring that, he continues as described before, eventually looking for the widow in the second village.
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Eulalios
Re: Arpad
The Valley of Goats, late afternoon, 14th of Truces
It is a superstition of these southern folk that no violence should be offered during this current cycle of the moon. So you don't feel a need to wait all that long, before continuing south. A few quick glances over your shoulder suggest to you that the two well-armed riders have much more interest in getting a view on the town, than in the unlikely possibility that you might have from out of nowhere appeared behind them and ridden away. They appear to be oblivious to your departure.
You had been nearly at the near-dry river ford, when you paused to hide. You cross, your horse's hooves clattering a little on the pebbles at the verge. He stops at the middle of the scant yards breadth of stream, and lowers his head to drink noisily from the knees-deep water that gurgles over the small smooth stones. Glancing again behind you, still, the dwindling figures of the red-garbed riders show no awareness of your presence as your horse finishes drinking and strides out of the water and amid the dozen or so stone-mud-and-thatch huts of the village.
As you pass through the village, the women of the houses and their dozens of children peer at you, silently. They have worn the same clothing for years, it seems, all of it well-washed, all of it tattered. They are generally scrawny. Looking over the huts you can see there are small gardens fenced with stakes and stones. But you know goats well enough, that even if you couldn't see the scraps of plants remaining, you would not expect those fences to protect the garden vegetables.
Continuing up the hill, you approach an orchard of quince trees wrapped by grape vines. Dogs slumber in the shade at the near side of the orchard. It seems to be their convenient resting place, the goats have given it so wide a berth that grass grows thick for dozens of feet around it. At a hundred feet distant, your horse ducks his head to nibble at a clump of taller grass. The nearest of the sleeping dogs comes smoothly from sleep to feet, with a single roaring bark.
It is a superstition of these southern folk that no violence should be offered during this current cycle of the moon. So you don't feel a need to wait all that long, before continuing south. A few quick glances over your shoulder suggest to you that the two well-armed riders have much more interest in getting a view on the town, than in the unlikely possibility that you might have from out of nowhere appeared behind them and ridden away. They appear to be oblivious to your departure.
You had been nearly at the near-dry river ford, when you paused to hide. You cross, your horse's hooves clattering a little on the pebbles at the verge. He stops at the middle of the scant yards breadth of stream, and lowers his head to drink noisily from the knees-deep water that gurgles over the small smooth stones. Glancing again behind you, still, the dwindling figures of the red-garbed riders show no awareness of your presence as your horse finishes drinking and strides out of the water and amid the dozen or so stone-mud-and-thatch huts of the village.
As you pass through the village, the women of the houses and their dozens of children peer at you, silently. They have worn the same clothing for years, it seems, all of it well-washed, all of it tattered. They are generally scrawny. Looking over the huts you can see there are small gardens fenced with stakes and stones. But you know goats well enough, that even if you couldn't see the scraps of plants remaining, you would not expect those fences to protect the garden vegetables.
Continuing up the hill, you approach an orchard of quince trees wrapped by grape vines. Dogs slumber in the shade at the near side of the orchard. It seems to be their convenient resting place, the goats have given it so wide a berth that grass grows thick for dozens of feet around it. At a hundred feet distant, your horse ducks his head to nibble at a clump of taller grass. The nearest of the sleeping dogs comes smoothly from sleep to feet, with a single roaring bark.
Re: Arpad
Arpad grips the reins a little tighter, in case the dog gets more aggressive, but the horse remains calm enough. From horseback, he looks around. So is Arpad in the second village? Are there people around? Perhaps some men under a tree waiting for the cool of the evening? Arpad's first time down this road?
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Eulalios
Re: Arpad
Next village probably a couple hours over the hill - you could be there by sunset.
A couple of "goatherds" wake up when their dog barks. Standing and stretching, they look over you and your horse. The one with a greying and bushy beard makes a small bow from his waist. The younger one, whose beard is sparse but neatly trimmed, follows that example. Aside from their ages they are near-identical; grandfather and grandson? They both have sturdy crooks at hand.
Unless you interact with them, they evidence zero interest in getting to know you. The young one does walk among the pack of a half dozen rousing dogs to hook his crook around the neck of the rigid-limbed and now-silent barker. "Sit." he tells the dog. It sits, eyes on you. Its subordinates rise from their hot-dog-day resting poses, up to stern sitting postures. Eyes on you.
That bark echoed faintly from the far side of the valley. Glancing across, you see no-one.
A couple of "goatherds" wake up when their dog barks. Standing and stretching, they look over you and your horse. The one with a greying and bushy beard makes a small bow from his waist. The younger one, whose beard is sparse but neatly trimmed, follows that example. Aside from their ages they are near-identical; grandfather and grandson? They both have sturdy crooks at hand.
Unless you interact with them, they evidence zero interest in getting to know you. The young one does walk among the pack of a half dozen rousing dogs to hook his crook around the neck of the rigid-limbed and now-silent barker. "Sit." he tells the dog. It sits, eyes on you. Its subordinates rise from their hot-dog-day resting poses, up to stern sitting postures. Eyes on you.
That bark echoed faintly from the far side of the valley. Glancing across, you see no-one.
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Eulalios
Re: Arpad
The second village, warm summer evening, sunset; 14th of Truces
Up the hill past the orchard, and over the ridge, onto a slightly greener highland free of gnawing goats. You ride a couple of hours to reach the second village, which is surrounded fields of wheat and barley and has healthy gardens among about twenty huts. Labor in the fields is done, and the village folk sit around a bonfire near the tile-roofed stone cabana that shelters the dug well. They are of varied ages, from crawling children up through antique grandfolks, but most are about your own age or a few years older.
Up the hill past the orchard, and over the ridge, onto a slightly greener highland free of gnawing goats. You ride a couple of hours to reach the second village, which is surrounded fields of wheat and barley and has healthy gardens among about twenty huts. Labor in the fields is done, and the village folk sit around a bonfire near the tile-roofed stone cabana that shelters the dug well. They are of varied ages, from crawling children up through antique grandfolks, but most are about your own age or a few years older.
Re: Arpad
About 50 yards from the crowd, Arpad slips off his horse and walks forward, leading it by the reins. "Greetings citizens. How are you this evening? I hope I find you and your families in good health." Seeking out a likely looking male near the edge, he continues more quietly, but not secretively, "Good evening. I come from the city with greetings from Fahd ibn Tuwan for his mother, the widow Sharon. Is she to be found near here?"
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Eulalios
Re: Arpad
The man you approached is middle-aged, dark curly beard and hair streaked with grey. His neatly-trimmed beard covers almost all of his olive-skinned face. His eyes are grey-green and placid as he intently studies your clothing, demeanor, and weapons. "You speak as one foreign. You are welcome as a guest," he replies. "I am the graef of this village. My name is Daoud bin Daoud. The widow Sharon lies in her cottage. Her daughter is with her. They will be happy to hear from Fahd ibn Tuwan. There is time to visit them after the sunset prayer."
You see there is a rectangular part of the yard around the well that has been paved with large, flat stones of irregular shape. The people of the village are moving from their seats round the fire, west of the well, over to the paved rectangle. Along their ways they pause at a long trough at the north side of the gazebo. As two young men haul up a bucket and dump it into the trough, the rest wash their faces, hands, and feet before stepping onto the clean-swept paving. They begin to kneel, facing east, the sun casting their shadows among the huts before them.
"We pray under the sky," says the man. "Will you join us?"
You see there is a rectangular part of the yard around the well that has been paved with large, flat stones of irregular shape. The people of the village are moving from their seats round the fire, west of the well, over to the paved rectangle. Along their ways they pause at a long trough at the north side of the gazebo. As two young men haul up a bucket and dump it into the trough, the rest wash their faces, hands, and feet before stepping onto the clean-swept paving. They begin to kneel, facing east, the sun casting their shadows among the huts before them.
"We pray under the sky," says the man. "Will you join us?"
Re: Arpad
"Daoud bin Daoud, it is a pleasure to meet you. I would happily wash the day's travel from my face, and keep the fire tended while you pray. Setting actions to words, Arpad ties his horse to a nearby tree, takes the saddle off and sets it on a branch that stands out about waist high, rinses his face, careful not to stand on the paved area, and goes to sit by the fire and enjoy the setting sun and the sounds of the men praying.
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Eulalios
Re: Arpad
The village ... elder? ... headman? ... blinks once, then smiles and politely inclines his head. "Please, tend the fire. After prayer I can bring you to the house of the widow Sharon."
The bonfire is small, and easily tended with wood from a pile against the back of the nearest cottage. The prayers are not excessively long. Although the sun has truly set, being the 14th of the lunar month that means a plenty of silver full moon light is mixed with the dancing reds and oranges of the fire. The village remains easily visible as Daoud bin Daoud leads you to the house (hut) where the widow Sharon lies, bed-bound by a broken hip. Her unmarried daughter sits drowsing by her bedside.
When do you deliver the purse of coins?
The bonfire is small, and easily tended with wood from a pile against the back of the nearest cottage. The prayers are not excessively long. Although the sun has truly set, being the 14th of the lunar month that means a plenty of silver full moon light is mixed with the dancing reds and oranges of the fire. The village remains easily visible as Daoud bin Daoud leads you to the house (hut) where the widow Sharon lies, bed-bound by a broken hip. Her unmarried daughter sits drowsing by her bedside.
When do you deliver the purse of coins?
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Eulalios
Re: Arpad
Daoud bin Daoud waits at the door. The widow's daughter stands and walks to you. The moonlight comes into the hut through its single high window opposite the door. It is hard to see her features but her voice is soft and very womanly. "And ... did my brother send a greeting for Rahel, his sister? My mother has slept this day long, she has not drunk nor made water. She barely breathes, sir. What word from my brother? Has he had our letter by the traveling scribe?"
Re: Arpad
Stepping slightly inside to make sure it is dark and he is out of the sight of the Daoud, Arpad holds tightly to the purple pouch to prevent it from clinking at offers it Rahel. "I do not know if your letter is received, nor do I have word for his sister. It appeared that he is doing well and he looks well in his uniform. He seemed in good spirits when I saw him this morning." As he hands the the bag to Rahel, there is a slight miscommunication, and it clinks a bit as it nearly falls to the floor. Sleight of Hand [1d20] = 4
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Eulalios
Re: Arpad
You end up sleeping either in Daoud bin Daoud's hut, or out under the stars as you prefer; the night is warm.
please let me know if you want anything else to do in this village ... otherwise:
Hill country, south of Saraqusta; warm summer day; 15th of Truces
The next morning's breakfast is flat barley bread, baked overnight on rocks amid the embers of the bonfire, smeared with greasy yellow butter and wrapped around torn cabbage while still warm.
After breakfast, further riding brings you further south, across the green highlands down into a greener valley of grass and shrubs. A good stream runs down from a rockface a few miles to your right, along the valley bottom across the track, and continuing down into woodlands to your left. The third village is small and purely devoted to subsistence gardening. You ride on through without interaction, up the next hillside, and by about midafternoon you've come to a cluster of a dozen deserted and roofless huts atop a bare hill with good visibility in all directions.
What do you do?
please let me know if you want anything else to do in this village ... otherwise:
Hill country, south of Saraqusta; warm summer day; 15th of Truces
The next morning's breakfast is flat barley bread, baked overnight on rocks amid the embers of the bonfire, smeared with greasy yellow butter and wrapped around torn cabbage while still warm.
After breakfast, further riding brings you further south, across the green highlands down into a greener valley of grass and shrubs. A good stream runs down from a rockface a few miles to your right, along the valley bottom across the track, and continuing down into woodlands to your left. The third village is small and purely devoted to subsistence gardening. You ride on through without interaction, up the next hillside, and by about midafternoon you've come to a cluster of a dozen deserted and roofless huts atop a bare hill with good visibility in all directions.
What do you do?
Re: Arpad
Arpad rides to the top of the hill, and still on his horse, makes a slow circle around the huts, looking outwards - first towards he imagines the 4th village will be, trying to get a sense of distance, and then in the other directions. He is looking for signs of large fires, large dust clouds as might be raised by an invading force or other signs of unrest. This is the way of one raised amidst raids. He keeps his ears cocked for sounds from the apparently empty houses, but assumes that his horse would be aware before him of anything larger than a rat hiding within the buildings. In case it matters: Perception [1d20-1] = 9-1 = 8 (Passive is 11).
Also - sometime after leaving the 2nd village, Arpad casts Mage Armor for the day.
Also - sometime after leaving the 2nd village, Arpad casts Mage Armor for the day.
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Eulalios
Re: Arpad
Abandoned village, mid-afternoon, sunny and warm clear skies; 15th of Truces
Though your wits or your eyes are a bit dull from the dust of the trail, you're familiar with the varied odors of horse dung as it dries. Three or four days past there'd been a plenty of horses among these broken stone huts, at least twenty, grazed on hill grass not fed with oats. They rode from here in several directions - roughly equal numbers southward down the hillside into the next valley, or eastward and westward along the saddles to the next hilltops. Now that you're clued to the riders, you notice the smoke-blackening around the tops of a couple roofless huts in which they had set their campfires out of sight.
You could ride at random south, east, or west; or you could investigate this abandoned village a while more.
What do you do?
Though your wits or your eyes are a bit dull from the dust of the trail, you're familiar with the varied odors of horse dung as it dries. Three or four days past there'd been a plenty of horses among these broken stone huts, at least twenty, grazed on hill grass not fed with oats. They rode from here in several directions - roughly equal numbers southward down the hillside into the next valley, or eastward and westward along the saddles to the next hilltops. Now that you're clued to the riders, you notice the smoke-blackening around the tops of a couple roofless huts in which they had set their campfires out of sight.
You could ride at random south, east, or west; or you could investigate this abandoned village a while more.
What do you do?
Re: Arpad
I presume this is not the 4th village that I am to get to on my urgent voyage to protect the prince, and I'm not sure why I would ride at random rather than carry on towards my goal. Am I missing something (e.g. I can't find the 4th village), or has there been a DM-inspired change in storyline (which I'm happy to follow)? Arpad spends some time investigating within the abandoned buildings, looking for clues that might indicate that the people who camped here were the same as the two soldiers seen the prior day. Perhaps a missing button, or peculiar boot print. It does seem that if there is danger to the land, it may well come in the form of foreign soldiers. Arpad also looks for any sign of a bird of prey - either real or symbolic.
Investigate [1d20-1] = 13-1 = 12
Survival [1d20+1] = 11+1 = 12 (as tracking)
Investigate [1d20-1] = 13-1 = 12
Survival [1d20+1] = 11+1 = 12 (as tracking)