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Post by delkar on Jan 17, 2006 13:08:16 GMT -5
"Right...of course mistress. I would prefer if you kept the doors to the carriage locked at all times if you weren't planning to already. If I do need you for something I shall knock thrice pause for a moment and knock twice more. Should anyone attempt to gain entry with anything else then that...call for us." Arelian explained "Highbringer and his men are set to leave this morning to some destination and I fear they will be following us. I expect they will be in a sour mood and will attempt to cause trouble. I expect you to secure whatever it is your carrying in a safe place...one that can't easily be found."
Arelian will tell the others of the code to open the door.
"Kesson you have the sharpest eyes among us, so you shall watch the front with shernof. I shall watch our back, Serol can take the right flank and Jervis you can watch the left. Should there be any problem please do call."
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Post by DM Cyphus on Jan 17, 2006 14:18:02 GMT -5
"I'm afraid our carriage does not lock. But we should be quite safe. Bandits will more likely attack you and your men to get to our goods, we will put up little fight, obviously. It is our silks and linens in the wagon that I fear for. I suspect Highbringer badly needs the money he requested of me. I simply cannot afford to spend that much every time I seek to transport goods. I lose too much profit for the Pretens and the Tristans. If it's the money he's looking for, they'll go for the wagon with the goods and likely try to sell them back to us or sell them elsewhere before we can get word out that the goods have been stolen. The goods are your charge...if you fail to protect them you will fail to get paid."
The woman then looks to Sorel with a bit of curiosity. "You, sir. You are a priest, yes?"
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Post by lawfather on Jan 17, 2006 16:00:13 GMT -5
Serol, who was now fully armed and armored he did not look happy with the way he was ordered to the left flank. Turning to Jack he says with his dark eyes belaying any feeling, "Know this, I take orders only from the Eternal Flames. I have agreed to guard this caravan, but I will not be ordered. You would do well to keep a mind on that." There is no anger in his voice, he could have been making conversation about the weather. He then begins to move his mount in the direction of the left flank, not because he was ordered, but because it seemed as likely a place for him to ride as any other. He was proud, but not stuborn.
Inclining his head to the lady he answers, his tone far more respectful than it just was, "I am a Burning Brazier of the Firelord Kossuth, milady."
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Post by DM Cyphus on Jan 17, 2006 16:02:58 GMT -5
"Then it is you whom I shall conduct my business with, and whom I place in charge of these men," the noblewoman looks to Jack and adds, "I have also had enough of this one's meddling. He has interfered with my affairs enough."
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Post by jamondashwood on Jan 17, 2006 16:05:44 GMT -5
Jervis snorts at the Cleric as he speaks to Jack. He for one didn't care where he rode. He was here for research, though he didn't really care for the way the lady had spoken to him. He was a scholar and enlightened, he was not used to being religated to eating with cooks.
"We're ready." he says patting his pony that he sat atop. Though those who knew the little gnome probably understood the 'we' didn't refer to he and his mount. He looks about eagerly his staff tucked behind his saddle where he could get his hands upon it. He wondered if he might get to witness a murder today. "Maybe we will help in one!" he says not realizing his previous thought had not been spoken aloud. He wondered what it would be like to kill a brigand. This would be most interesting indeed.
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Post by DM Cyphus on Jan 17, 2006 16:13:23 GMT -5
"Well...good then. So long as we have an understanding," the woman eyes Jack again despite the odd outburst from the Gnome, "I've had enough in the way of setbacks."
As the cleric rides to the left flank and finds himself suitably positioned, the Lady wanders over and offers, "If you are capable of finding more suitable attire, I would be interested in having you dine with my husband and myself this evening. We are something of religious enthusiasts, always interested in the various faiths. More of a hobby than anything. It would be interesting indeed to speak with one of the Flamelord's faith. I do not believe I have met with any before. If you are interested, we will be setting up a small area of sorts to dine near the coach this evening. You are welcome...your men are not, however. I would prefer to keep my daughter amongst more reputable individuals." She offers nothing else, but merely states this as if it were an obvious and understandable fact. She then proceeds to wander closer to the coach and speaks with the drivers and Shernof.
((Let me know when you boys are ready. We'll get this little journey under way.))
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Post by lawfather on Jan 17, 2006 16:32:33 GMT -5
Serol inclines his head and answers honestly, "A most gracious honor indeed, milady. I look forward to the discussions we might have as well."
Kossuth found the majority of his faithful in the less upwardly mobile segment of the people. But Serol would not turn down the honor and patronage bringing a lord or lady to the faith might earn him. This was a fine proposition to be sure.
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Post by silentblade on Jan 17, 2006 20:49:48 GMT -5
Kesson listens to the discussion with little interest. His eyes constantly scan the horizon. The elf moves towards the front of the group his bow lying across his legs as he prods his mount forward. “Humans always seem to need a leader…” the elf mumbles as he waits for the carriage to begin to roll forward.
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Post by DM Cyphus on Jan 18, 2006 9:26:00 GMT -5
As Kesson makes his way to point, he realizes that his comments were not entirely unheard. Shernof, waiting up front as well, lowers his head a bit and grins. He nods a little to himself and then looks up and ahead. When the caravan is ready, he begins to lead the way.
Shernof rides up front with Kesson, ahead of the coach. Shernof keeps rides a good thirty feet in front of the coach, which is followed by the goods in the wagon at a distance of ten feet. The road is twenty feet wide, offering Serol and Jervis about seven or eight feet of room on either side of the caravan. Arelian follows the caravan closely in the rear.
((I don't care much where you guys decide to position yourselves. Just let me know.))
((Kesson, though I'm moving forward, feel free to chat with Shernof a bit before moving on. Or to at the very least respond. Just wanted to make sure we were moving at a reasonable pace.))
***
Two hours outside of town, Shernof speaks for the first time to Kesson. "Master Elf, my eyes, though not as keen as yours, are still quite sharp. I am honored by your company here at point, but if you have reservations about your man at our rear, you may accompany him there to better cover our flanks. I doubt we will encounter much more than travellers along our lonely road, so it is your choice. Either way, I am obliged for your presence."
***
The day passes with little fare. The only excitement to occur is when the caravan passes travelers with similar circumstances. Shernof is sure to hail the passersby and ask of the road ahead. They report clear journeying all the way from Lethtar and ask about the journey ahead. Shernof gives a quick report of conditions and then lets them move along. He keeps the caravan halted and to the side of the road until the other caravan has passed a reasonable distance.
The caravan stops for the evening about three hours before nightfall. The drivers begin to dismount and go about preparing dinner. Shernof sees to the horses before finding a suitable place to sit alone and tend to his weapons and gear. The Pretens, appear outside of the coach for the first time since leaving Antezra. The Lady Preten briefly questions Shernof before allowing him to go about his duties.
The Pretens eat near the coach, and it seems obvious that they will spend the night there as well. The young Preten springs from the coach, full of energy. She runs around outside for a brief moment, burning only a miniscule amount of the energy that is sure to abound inside of her, and then goes about skipping along the edges of the forest. "Stay away from the guards, Hannah!" Lady Preten shouts after her daughter...it seems to bother her little that Jervis and Serol are rather close as she does so.
***
Serol is invited to eat with the Pretens. When he arrives at the secluded spot at the opposite end of the caravan, Serol finds that Lord Preten is the only one there. Upon noticing the arrival of his guest, Lord Preten stands up and offers Serol his hand, "How do you do, my friend. We haven't been properly introduced, I'm Lord Jonathan Edward Preten the Third. When the wife is about, she'll insist you refer to me as Lord Preten, but when it's just you and I, feel free to call me Jon. I don't much care for titles when they aren't necessary."
***
The drivers/make-shift cooks eat alone. It doesn't appear to have anything to do with resentment of the group's profession or the look of the odd folks that have come onboard with them for this journey, but rather just that they enjoy their privacy. As Jervis and Arelian sit eating a bit of beef stew, light on the beef, Arelian catches a glimpse of young Hanna hiding near the wagon, watching the two men eat their food. When she realizes her cover has been blown, the little girl stands up straight and approaches the two men. "Who are you?" she asks.
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Post by lawfather on Jan 18, 2006 10:44:03 GMT -5
Serol had been on this road many a time he knew the curves and rolling hills well. He rode in silent contemplation on the left side of the cariage his eyes watching for trouble, but not surprised he had found none so far. There was a reason, after all, why this was called "Milk Run".
As evening decends he leaves his horse with Shernof to be seen with the other horses. He does however pull some robes from the right saddlebag. In a few moments he has transformed himself from the dusty, travelstained cleric of the poor to a formal man of the cloth complete with red vestments cinched over his armor.
As he sits for the evening meal he inclines his head at the man's indroduction. "An honor and a privilage milord." Even though he had been told to ignore titles it was clear he was unused to such things. "As I have not yet introduced myself either, I am Serol Kinspar, Burning Brazier of the Firelord Kossuth. My faith is yours to share."
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Post by jamondashwood on Jan 18, 2006 10:52:41 GMT -5
Jervis looks up from the dirt where he had been dissecting a bug that had the misfortune of crossing the Necromancer's path when he was in a curious mood. He was curious, and frustrated. He was nearly a whole day into this and he had done nothing but ride. His legs were sore and he had nothing to show for it! He ate gladly as he was hardly used to riding through lunch, but the stew was watered down. It hardly kept the little one's interest. Many times he had seemed to be arguing with himself, but with the distance and the constant creak of the saddles and wagons hearing him was nearly impossible.
As the young girl approached he looked up. He smiled, he liked children. They were so innocent and inquisitive traits he very much enjoyed. From his sitting position the young human towered over him, when he stood she still was taller. He smiled, though it was probably lost within the folds of his cloak.
"Hello there, pretty one." he said as cheerfully as he had spoken. "I am a mage. I will be traveling with you for the next few days." As he spoke he pulled a flower from one of his sleeves. He had hoped to kill the flower, as he did last night. It really was interesting how different plants and animals died. Animals grew stiff and cold, plants limp and faded it was an interesting comparison.
However as the gnome touched the bloom, instead of dying the flower opened it's peddles up into the most dazzling colored bloom one could imagine. He extended his hand offering the flower to the young girl.
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Post by DM Cyphus on Jan 18, 2006 10:59:55 GMT -5
The man nods and says nothing at the mention of his title by Serol. He sits down and looks over the priest's ceremonial garb. "You're a rarity, yes? The Kossuthans are very few in number of late. Most don't understand the faith properly, myself among them...of course. I have met with the Eternal Flame at the shrine in Lethtar, but only briefly. He seems a good man. Though his servants are far...humbler...one might say...than he is."
***
The young girl seems to hesitate for a moment. She stares directly at the flower, failing to notice Arelian, or even the Gnome holding it, any longer. Cautiously, she moves forward to take the flower, all the while biting her bottom lip out of nervousness. She smiles big when she takes the flower from Jervis and then steps back about five feet away. "Thank you, sir," she says to Jervis, though her eyes remain on the flower, "it is very pretty. This is a magic flower, huh?" She speaks very well for a child of her age. The nobles started them young. She appeared cleaner than most children, though her little blue dress was dusty from running around on the road and her hair appeared tousled. One imagined she'd seldom been given the opportunity to just be a child.
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Post by jamondashwood on Jan 18, 2006 11:11:45 GMT -5
Jervis smiles and says, "No, little one. Not a magic flower. Just a normal flower with a little bit of magic put in it." He stands dusting his robes from the dust that stains the black so visibly. "My name is Jervis Dench."
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Post by lawfather on Jan 18, 2006 11:14:51 GMT -5
Serol picks at his robes. He nods and smiles, it was an oddity he suposed to see a Brazier he knew exactly how few they were. That is what made his work all the more important. "The eternal flame is a great man. He has overcome many hardships to raise to the level that he has." There is a reverance in his tone one that speaks about just how deeply he admired the man. "I am intrigued that one of your station would inquire about the teachings of Kossuth. If you have any questions or would like to discuss it, I am at your service, milord."
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Post by DM Cyphus on Jan 18, 2006 11:30:02 GMT -5
She looks at the flower curiously a moment before answering. "My name is Hannah Preten. My mother is your boss," she explains matter-of-factly, "How do I do magic, Mr. Dench? Can you show me?"
She walks over to Jervis and offers him the flower back, "I'll let you keep it, Mr. Dench, if you show me, please."
***
"My question would be a simple one, Master Brazier," the Lord begins as his wife walks into sight out of the trees to the north of the road, "Our people know basics about religion; that is obvious. When we suffered from the fires years ago, my daughter was only two. As a new father, I found myself concerned for her safety...displaced residents desperate for coin could have reached our home. The fires themselves were capable of spreading and catching us unaware. And I worried about leaving her years from now with the responsibility of caring for a city that had been nearly destroyed. When the petition to build a shrine to the Flamelord came about, I felt compelled to lend my support. I took the lead, and got the shrine built. Offerings were made. Men were tried and put to death for starting the fires that killed innocent citizens. Yet the fires continued. We had thought for sure that the Flamelord was angry with us, yet it was only after we had all but abandoned the offerings and trials and begun to work again with the clergyman of Gond...partially responsible for the fires themselves...that we saw relief from the flames. Why, Master Brazier, do you believe this was the case? Why would the Wonderbringer answer our prayers and not Kossuth?"
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