The Unseen Servant forums

MonsterMash wrote:

Only concern is Thurgan is well down on HP

Rhys the Traveler

After a brief discussion of what they should do next, Rhys helps load the party treasure (currently 2190gp) onto the horses, distributing the weight as evenly as possible between the three (approximately 73lbs each).

Then he says goodbye to the proto-human (as best he can) and wishes him luck (as best he can) before leading the small group of people back to Threshold.

Yarthmont 25-26, AC 1000

The adventurers return to Threshold, for some reason making much better time than on their way into the mountains.

Rhys takes his 730 gold coins and immediately converts it into something more portable for himself...

Severi Silvertongue, Elf

Severi uses some small amount of the gold to re-equip himself, and then uses the majority to fund a terrific bacchanal celebration dedicated to any powerful beings that might happen to be watching.

Returning to Threshold, Rhys, Severi and Thurgan consider undergoing a mysterious process know only as "conversion", but eventually decide they like themselves the way they are. Severi spends the majority of his hard-won gains throwing a terrific street party. Jesters and jugglers, mimes and mountebanks are for once gainfully employeed, and Severi's largesse becomes the talk of the town, almost, but not quite, displacing that which is on the lips of every townfolk: war.

The adventurers are in Threshold for the span of a mere minutes before it becomes apparent that war has come to Karameikos. The guards at the gate stare suspiciously at the trio and their bulging sacks of loot, but they are known, and waved through with little hassle. The smallfolk they pass look talk excitedly of goings on; young men stride up and down the streets, clad in squeaky new leather armor and fencing with imaginary blades as they talk of joining the Baron's troops.

Others whisper of levies, and conscripts, and a messenger from the Duke that arrived in the middle of the night and has been cloistered with the Baron ever since. Although rumors fly with abandon, it is only a matter of time before the story emerges: a horde of humanoids poured out of the forests to the east and have laid seige to Penhaligon! It is rumored they are being led by the apostate cleric Elwyn.

Severi Silvertongue, Elf

Severi lounges around a late breakfast with his companions, old and new. "I am no soldier, and I have little taste for the battlefield. I think that continuing to explore the orc-haunted ruins is a better use of our time. But it also occurs to me that this army of foul humanoids might have a loot or supply train that lags behind their main force, and opportunistic adventurers might seize it; both to their own profit and in a small way contributing to the war effort."

Other rumors are heard as well. Several wealthy Darokin merchants are in the midst of preparing a caravan east to visit the desert kingdom of Ylaruam, a trip that would take them through the heart of the conflict. The majority of the local caravan guards have signed up to fight for the Duke in a patriotic fervor, and the traders are looking to recruit competent individuals to help guard their caravan. For those who have seen combat, they are offering a base pay of 100 gold coins, plus a 2% stake their sales once they reach the bazaars of the fabled eastern kingdom.

There are tales of a dragon having been spotted flying over the mountains to the east of Threshold.

There are tales of a pack of giant boars roaming the Radlebb Wood, attacking travelers, pilgrims and caravans with what can only be described as human-like cunning and ill-intent.

Severi expands on his thoughts from earlier.

Dragon: Nope.

Wereboars: Double Nope

Caravan: Interesting, but he'd like an estimate of the value of their cargo, and clarification as to whether that's 2% of the net, or the gross.

Wyzard wrote:Severi expands on his thoughts from earlier.

Dragon: Nope.

Wereboars: Double Nope

Caravan: Interesting, but he'd like an estimate of the value of their cargo, and clarification as to whether that's 2% of the net, or the gross.

The merchant, an emaciated man with fingers like spider-legs, purses his thin lips and suck air. "We carry wine a varied cargo; ale and tobacco from the Shires, bow-wood from the southern woods, Darokin wine and silks. We would be prepared to pay each member of your party 100 gold coins each, and 2% of our net sales. This fighting is cutting into our profits, but I still estimate we will net some 20,000 gold, if all goes well."

It is during the second night of Severi's bacchanal that Rhys is approached by Semele, who he knows from the days when she served Innana the Warrioress, and before that Marodin the Cleric. Semele expresses her disinclination to spend the rest of her days herding alpacas, and inquires as to whether the party would have need of a healer. "I am prepared to except the same terms as before," she says.

Wyzard wrote:

That pay is garbage, but we do still have some wagons sitting around. If we bought some valuable cargo of our own, we might make a profit. Sort of fiddly, though, compared to just killing orcs and taking their stuff.

Wyzard wrote:

That pay is garbage, but we do still have some wagons sitting around. If we bought some valuable cargo of our own, we might make a profit. Sort of fiddly, though, compared to just killing orcs and taking their stuff.

Rhys welcomes Semele warmly and says,"you are always welcome to travel with us, young one. In fact, we could use the spiritual guidance! Have you enough funds to set yourself straight with gear? Here..."

He pulls three red garnets out of his masculine coin holder and passes them over to her.

"This should be enough for whatever your needs may be."

Tev Meren, New to Town

Strangers are rarely welcome at times of war, but the dark black-red cloak of the Puissant House of Lawful Reclamation -- the Daro organization known colloquially as the bounty-hunters guild -- is enough to get Tev Meren through the guards at the gate. It seems he picked an opportune moment to land in Threshold, for the second day of a bacchanal is in full swing. Pleased to be greeted with such decadence, Tev Meren joins the drunken disorder and is so overcome as festivities show signs of wearing down that he provides a fresh infusion of capital to keep things in full swing for another day or two. He calls for a pageant of the churches, and considers it money well spent; for many of these men, it will be their last moment of wild abandon in this lifetime, and it's a hell of a way to make friends in a new city.

Yarthmont 30, AC 1000

The adventurers throw a party the likes of which the town of Threshold has never seen, and by the time it is over and the alcohol has ceased to flow, the companions are given a rousing send-off by bleary-eyed townsfolk.

The adventurers return to the trail and, by dint of their mounts, are able to reach their former camping spot before nightfall. Nothing untoward happens.

Klarmont 1, AC 1000

The companions wake at the beginning of a new month, break camp and continue on the trail. Shortly after mid-morning the game trail they have been following widens somewhat, and they begin to see evidence that at one point a larger road ran through these forested hills, although it must have been decades, if not centuries, prior. Before too long the trail veers northeast and begins to follow a babbling brook. After a half-hour or or so of riding alongside the pleasant creek the companions espy some taller mountains through the gaps in the tree canopy; shortly afterwards they come across a old stone structure perched next to the creek. The rotted remains of a wheel jut out from the side of the building over the creek. The place appears to be abandoned; although the walls and slate roof are overgrown with moss and vines, it appears structurally sound.