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Date:
Year of Wild Magic, 14 Present Reckoning, 20th of Eleasias
Location: Waterdeep - South Ward
Time: Late morning through early afternoon
The small gnome continues to make small talk with Mehet while
assessing her jewels, his face flushing on occasion as she talks or
bends near. Tinem stops his appraisals at Blazidon's initial
exclamation. His face draws pale and his mouth opens as the old
warrior tells them of the lost party and he is faced with mounting
evidence of his own peril. Tinem peers about the room slowly at his
new comrades. As his gaze turns to the nearby Mehet, Tinems eyes
roll up and his knees buckle as he collapses at the bards' feet.
Mehet blinks once, not having time to remark upon the disturbing
news before Tinem suddenly crumples at her feet. She quickly kneels
down besides the gnome and gently turns him over, looking at his
face to see if he was conscious or if he had indeed dropped in a
swoon.
Tinem's listless body gives little resistance as Mehet turns the
small gnome over. As Mehet kneels near, Tinem's left eye opens
slightly, followed by a tiny smile. Suddenly in one fluid motion,
the gnome sits upright, leans in towards Mehet and gives her a kiss.
Tinem then leans back on his arms, grinning from ear to ear.
Mehet opens both eyes wide in suprise. She looks at Tinem as he
leans back and starts to laugh. "You have promise," she quips with a
chuckle.
"As do you, my dear!" Tinem replies as he notices the others going
about their final errands. "Ummm. I've all that I need and can
afford. Perhaps you would like to join me watch the dwarves learn to
ride?" he asks Mehet offering her his arm in escort.
Na'tally blinks as the little gnome collapses, and snorts in
amusement at his subsequent actions. With a slight push off the
table, the mage rises, tucks her book and her writ of membership
away, and slips her pack over her shoulder.
"If we have the time, I think I'm going to go see if I can find out
more about the Mire. Anyone like to come along?" The dark haired
spellcaster pushes a stray lock away from
her face, and adds, "my uncle should be able to tell me who in
Waterdeep might have the best info, some old former ranger or
something, most like. I'm sure there's someone with an in depth
knowledge of the place. After all, it's practically next door to the
city."
Na'tally waits for a moment before heading through the hall toward
the entry, saying, with a twinkle in her eye, "ah, good luck with
the riding instruction. I'll be back
in a few hours, most like."
After paying his fees, Amershaine returns to his resting crouch
against the wall. He watches the antics of his new companions with
an amused half-smile spread across his scarred visage, often staring
intently at Mehet and Azenon. In response to Na'tally's
invitation, he stands and replies, “I will go with you. It is good
to know much about a future battlegound." He then nods to the
remainder of the party as he follows Na'tally towards the exit.
Marise clenches her fist quietly at the dread news of swamp and then
the death of a crew "Well bugger." She tilts her head and whispers
half to herself, "I'ma wishin' I knew more about this but I'm still
fer goin'. Better dead of my own choice than livin' in near exile."
She looks straight at Bedwin, "Take off yer armor. I'll teach ya ta
ride, at least enough so ya's won't keep us from gettin' ta where
we're goin'. But a cart is out if'n we're headin' inta a swamp.
Me'Linde is gentle enough fer a warpony surely ya won't be afraid o'
her." Marise waits calmly for the male dwarf to explode at the
insinuation of him being afraid of an animal.
"I am also willing to help you learn. It will be better in the long
run for you ride rather than trying to pull a small chariot through
the mire." Says Alemnia, "A mount of your own will give you greater
flexibility in where you can reach."
"If'n this Mere is as ... damp ... as reports have it," Bedwin
mutters in a low rumble, "then ye be right in that we can nae take a
wagon or cart on our travels and I'm nae gonna hold back our group."
The dwarf's nose wrinkles and his flowing moustache twitches
momentarily. "I suppose," he grumbles after a long pause, "if'n its
good enough fer Emerus Warcrown then I can nae refuse ta at least
try."
"Take off me armour," he mumbles to himself in a low voice as though
in utter disbelief and shakes his head at the very notion.
"Well, this is probably as good a time as any to get you started on
a mount", Alemnia addresses both dwarves. "Shall we?" She indicates
the exit with a grand gesture.
"Might as well," Bedwin mumbles, though he makes no move for the
door. "Rocks that stand still just gather moss," he adds under his
breath a moment later. Lifting his gaze to the doors, Bedwin squares
his shoulders and reaches back to adjust his heavy axe as though
going into battle. "Right, let's be goin'," he says and stomps off
towards the exit.
Marise smiles in satisfaction as Bedwin haeds to the door. She turns
back to the others still at the table. "We should meet back here in
about two hours, ta make plans fer headin' ta the Mere. See ya
then." Marise resettles her crossbow at her hip and follows Bedwin
out the door.
Date: Year of Wild Magic, 14 Present Reckoning, 20th of Eleasias
Location: Waterdeep - Southern Ward
Time: Early Noon
With your writs in hand and a dire warning in your ears, the newly
joined group exits a much subdued Adventurers Guild into the busy
Virgins Square to gather your tethered mounts out front. A young man
watching the mounts gives a smile and a nod as you gather the
animals.
Hearing grumbling from the dour dwarf slowly following the man
offers up helpfully, "Nearest is Hlakken Stables off Coach Lamp
Lane. Take the High Road." Looking up quickly the young man opens
his mouth to voice a warning as a shadow descends on Na'tally with a
furious flapping of wings and suddenly there is a large black-eyed
raven perching on the mages shoulder, cawing loudly as it seemingly
appraises each of you. "Oh." the young man finishes lamely.
Learning that you all will be going in the same direction for a bit,
you gather you items and cross Virgin's Square through Scroll street
onto the High Road which cuts through the heart of Waterdeep exiting
through Northgate or the Southgate. Its said that you can see a bit
of everything if you sit and watch the High Road for a day.
As usual it is quite busy and takes some time to make your way
south, more often than not you find yourselves dodging coaches and
wagons as they rumble past in haste. As you make your way past
Telshambra's street which crosses Blackmul street Na'tally indicates
that her uncles tower lies just up the block and with well wishes to
Bedwin she and Amershaine turn off for Quilhearst Tower.
It takes almost half an hour to make it the rest of the way to Coach
Lamp Lane and with the judicious use of elbows and the bulk of your
mounts you are able to cut across the hustle of the High Road.
You smell Hlakken Stables about half a block before you see it. The
business seems to be in good repair and looks to be in high demand
from the number of stable boys running back and forth cleaning
stalls, laying straw and putting horses through their paces in the
coral out front. Perhaps thirty or more animals are housed at the
moment.
Approaching the stables you see a man leaning against a coral fence
watching a boy of perhaps thirteen winters work a horse, giving
sounds of encouragement from time to time. Hearing your approach he
turns slightly and you notice that he is assesses each of your
mounts before looking to you. "Fair day. Somethin' we can do for
you?"
Raising a hand to his mouth, Bedwin makes a gruff sound as though
trying to clear his throat before firmly planting his feet and
looking up at the man. "I'm needin' a mount," he says in a voice
that hints at violence should insult be delivered, "and I'm a needin'
ta know how ta ride it."
Marise grins openly but keeps her tongue in place -- this time. She
simply pats Me'Linde on her neck and watches Bedwin fidget. Finally
she can't stand it anymore, "Yer first ride would be easier without
tha' armor. Takin' it off might save ya some time of bangin' out tha
dents later too."
A slight pinkish flush rises above Bedwin's beard to color his
cheeks and, resolutely not turning to face the dwur woman nearby, he
continues to look up at the man. Though his stance does not change,
he seems to give the distinct impression that he'd much rather take
his axe to any damn horse than ride one.
Alemnia leans towards Marise and murmurs, "it might be best if you
didn't ride him any more until he has learnt to ride himself." More
loudly she continues, "I'm sure you'll see things from a different
perspective once you have tried riding sir dwarf."
Marise looks at Alemnia oddly the at Bedwin, "How in the Abyss is he
goin' ta ride 'imself?" Her brows contract as she tries to figure it
out, then she exclaims loudly, "Oh you mean ON horseflesh! Gotcha, I
suppose yer right. He'll beat himself enough knowin' were all
watchin' him. I remember tha first time I got on a beastie. I never
knew dwarves could fly until that day. Spent more time in tha air
meself than on Me'Linde's back. We're pals now though. Never let a
ranger pick a half-wild steed fer yer first'un." She smiles fondly
at the memory, while unconsciously rubbing her hip. "I had me armor
off too, so guess it don't make much of a difference ... on or off.
Just tryin' ta save him some time later."
Tinem follows along with the crowd gleefully. The gnome seems quite
content to revel in the newfound camaraderie. Once at the stable,
Tinem finds himself a seat along a fence from which to watch the
festivities, obviously amused at the prospect of a dwarven rodeo and
the ribbing of Bedwin.
Jakihm cannot help but burst out of life. He lays a friendly hand on
Bedwin's shoulder. "No worries," he says in a friendly tone. "I have
the gift of my Mistress's luck I can give you for your first try.
Sometimes luck is better than skill and of course, we don't want to
delay of you having to pound out your armor."
Smiling from his high vantage point atop his dark steed Inferno,
Azenon says, "Friend, the secret is you must show the beast who is
in charge. After which an understanding of respect and trust will
come, and eventually grow into true friendship."
“Show it who’s boss,” Bedwin repeats under his breath, then nods his
head as though committing it to memory. “Every bit of luck would be
good,” he adds after a moment before pausing. Another moment passes
before he mutters, “An’ if that nae works I can always eat the
beastie fer dinner. Might make a good stew …”
"No worries, Bedwin," Jakihm says. "My Mistress favors those who
take chances. But if the Maid of Misfortune drops you on your
keister I'll gladly join you in your feast."
The man leaning against the fence watches the word war before him
with something akin to a smile though he is careful not to appear to
irreverent, especially to the dour dwarf threatening to cleave
horseflesh. "Well sir dwarf, most folk that come to these stables
already know how to ride the animal. I'm guessin' we could find you
something and get you the basics taught in a few hours, atleast
enough so that you don't hurt yourself, or more importantly, your
mount."
Sucking on his teeth for a moment the man looks back to the boy
running the horse beyond the fence and then points to an empty coral
on the left of the stables. "Meet me over yonder, I'll bring out
what we have for you to take a look at, then we can see about
mounting you up and talk price."
A few minutes pass before the man comes back, leading two pony's by
their halters. A young boy of ten winters lags behind, totting a
well worn saddle and blanket. "These two are all that I've got at
the moment, lessin' you want an ornery mule." Tethering both the
beasts to the fence post he waves Bedwin over to the animals.
Reaching into a pocket the man pulls out two slices of apple and
hands then over to the dwarf. The noses of both the pony's twitch as
they catch scent of the fruit. "This one here," the man indicates
the black pony with a white belly, "is a Dales pony. Strong and
smart," he bends down and lifts a hoof, indicating the hard blue
horn. "This ones a mare." Giving the animal a scratch behind its ear
he turns to the next.
"This one is Fell pony breed in Tyrluk, a gelding," he pats the roan
roughly on its side, "War trained and a good ride, though we've come
to find this one has a bit of a mean streak. Likes to nip when you
aren't looking, and certainly don't turn your back on this one. He's
trained to kick on command."
Indicating the apples still in Bedwin's hand he shoos the dwarf
towards the horses, "Give them a treat and let them get a chance to
know you. Pick one and the boy here will show you how to tack him
proper.
Bedwin eyes the two ponies for a long moment as though trying to
decide which is the lesser of two evils. Then he glances down at the
apple in his hand, up at the ponies, down at the apple, then back up
to the ponies. "Ya feed 'em ... fruit?" he mutters in disbelief.
Shaking his head in wonder he clenches his jaw firmly shut and
stomps over towards the black Dales pony with the white belly and
stands before it. Lifting his hand, he offers the pony the sliced
apple and says, "Here. Got somethin' fer ya ta eat." After a second,
in an effort to make friends, he grudgingly adds, "Don't choke on
it."
Jakihm finds a spot to lean back and watch the festivities, his
seemingly ever-present smile wide and friendly.
Marise looks askance at Bedwin an honest smile creeping to her lips.
She sees Tinem perch on the fence for fun and Jakhim settling in
next to him. She creeps up behind the two and watches through the
rails.
Tinem grins widely in anticipation. "Don't worry Bedwin. He's more
scared of you than you are than him!" he shouts in encouragement.
"He can see you're a dwarf!" he adds Marise as well in a gentle bit
of ribbing before shifting to more comfortable position on the
fence.
Jakihm quite visibly bites back his laughter but -- perhaps wisely
-- chooses not to add to the jibe.
Mehet saunters up and leans against the fence. "Decided to come
watch after all," she says to Marise and Tinem.
Smiling at the byplay, Alemnia joins her new companions at the rail
and leans on it as she settles down for the coming entertainment.
Marise calmly reaches up and attempts to shove Tinem from his perch
atop the fence into the corral ... "Aye, it can see he's a dwur.
Let's hope it don' mistake ye fer a log."
At Marise's shove, Tinem slides forward on the rail. He almost
catches his balance, but slides forward from the fence, falling face
first into the corral. Tinem lands on his hands and knees, and
fortunately, manages to catch himself, only an inch from a
relatively fresh pile of droppings. However, Tinem's nose (a source
of personal gnomish pride), is over an inch and a half long and has
not been as fortunate. As Tinem stands to his feet, a small bit of
dung clings to his snout.
Frowning, Tinem quickly cleans off the foul material, but soon gives
a deep chuckle. "So you want to play?" he asks Marise, then begins a
very brief incantation.
The stable hand laughs at Bedwin's question of feed, "Nay, oats and
grain and grass or hay. The like sweets though, fruits, vegetables
and salt blocks," he points to a white block near the front of a
stall of one horse, the block much licked and nipped at, distorting
its shape slightly.
Deciding on the Dales pony Bedwin stomps over to it and holds out
his hand and quickly nibble lips reach forward and snatch the sweet
treat from the dwarfs calloused hand. The slice of apple disappears
after but a moment of chewing and the mare moves to look for more,
her lips nibbling at his hand searching for more.
With a surprised 'oomph!' Bedwin suddenly finds himself knocked to
the ground as the Fell pony decides it wants the other apple and
wasn't willing to wait. Looking up from manure strewn ground the
surprised dwarf sees the roan gelding chomp up the last apple slice
that was dropped to the ground.
"Sorry about that, should have warned ya," the stable hand says
apologetically, extending a hand down to the dwarf to help him up. "Romay,
why don't you take this one and put him up. Think he might be a bit
much for our friend here." With a nod the young boy takes the lead
to the halter and begins to walk the pony back to his stall. The
boys shoulders seem to shake with repressed laughter.
"C'mon, lets get this mare saddled and you on her," he adds as the
boy leads the other pony away. "Have you riding out of here in no
time."
The light hearted joking at the fence gets a bit more rambunctious
as Marise reaches up and gives Tinem a good natured shove and after
much scrabbling the gnome suddenly cartwheels forward off the fence
and lands on his hands and knees, his long nose burying itself into
horse dung. After a momentary frown he begins chuckling, "So you
want to play?" he asks Marise, then begins a very brief incantation.
As Tinem raises his hand, a rather large clump of horse dung rises
from the ground and hovers in mid-air. With a sly grin, Tinem points
to the space above Marise's head and the road-apple follows, coming
to levitate only a few inches above the dwarf's head.
"Poetry in motion", Alemnia says just loudly enough to be heard by
those at the fence. "Obviously putting practise for when he has
mounted; getting used to the shorter fall first and then working his
way up." As Marise and Tinem start to play she watches their antics
out of the corner of her eye.
Marise raises a single bushy, red-brown eyebrow as she watches the
road apple hover. "You drop it where I think yer gonna drop it an
you an I 're gonna be the next show fer these people, gnomie." She
cracks the knuckles of her right hand to evidence what she means and
a big grin splits her face.
Tinem eyes Marise's fist with a smirk. "Oooh. I hope I don't lose my
concentration," he remarks with sarcasm while suddenly lowering his
finger, causing the horse dung to dip perilously close to Marise.
"I would hate to get some of this on, say, your nose!" he adds, then
further directs the turd down to her eye level and into circles in
front of her own nose.
"I gotta long memory." Marise keeps her eye on the poop as it
circles. "T'aint my fault yer nose is the longest part o' yer body
and hit the ground first."
Tinem's eyes grow narrow as he considers Marise's words. His sly
grin is soon replaced by a giant smile. "Very nice of you to notice.
Apology accepted! That's the nicest thing I've heard since coming to
Waterdeep!" Pleased with himself and his prominent nose, Tinem
continues, "You know, it was the largest nose in my village back
home."
"And, you know what they say about gnomes with big noses, don't
you?" adds with a wink at Marise, dismissing the levitating log with
an absentminded flick of the wrist. Before he can finish his
thought, he notices the turd has gone astray and landed on Jakihm's
shoe.
"Ummm, sorry about that friend." he says to Jakihm with a blush. "Ummm,
guess that was some bad luck for you, heh?" he adds with a sheepish
grin.
Jakihm looks at his now stained boot and smiles. "Oh, I doubt luck
had anything to do with it, friend Tinem." He shrugs. "But I do have
a feeling that if it was luck you'll be having much the same when
you wake up tomorrow. I can practically guarantee it." His smile
stays friendly.
Marise follows the movement of the horse apple, carefully. She
smiles when it drops away and looks intently at Tinem, "No. What do
they say?" She seems completely unaware of what Tinem is referring
to.
"You knowwww," he says trying to lead Marise, blushing slightly.
"They need big handkerchiefs!"
"Oh." She raises an eyebrow and peers through the fence at Tinem's
nose. "Don' seem ta be too much bigger than Bedwin's though. Ya
might wanna make sure ya get some a'those hankies afore we head
out." Marise is completely oblivious.
"Yeah, but he's at least a foot taller than I am!" Tinem explains in
a defensive tone. "If I were that tall, my nose would be AT LEAST an
inch longer." Tinem then retakes his seat on the fence (out of
Marise's reach), pouting slightly with a case proboscis envy.
Realizing she has somehow insulted Tinem, Marise replays the
conversation and looks really confused. "I dinna mean ta hurt ya.
Yer still growin', mebbe it will get longer," she offers as a
condolence.
Listening to the exchange between Marise and Tinem, Mehet can't help
but start to giggle at first, then finally fall into full blown
laughter. "Oh..oh..I have not had this much fun since...” she tilts
her head as a mischievous smile plays across her face, "well, since
last night." She shakes her head and sighs, "hmn.." she looks
around, "I wonder where Amershaine has gone off to..mm..nice looking
man he is."
Cursing loudly but taking the offered hand, Bedwin stands up and
wipes the worst of the muck from his backside and gives the
stable-boy and the ornery warpony a dirty look before turning to the
task at hand, doing his damned best to ignore the sideshow with the
road apples.
"Well now," the stable hand looks askance at Tinem and Marise,
shaking his head at the sight of the floating droppings, "lets get
this girl saddled and see how you do with her," with that said he
grabs the saddle and blanket and tosses it over the mares back and
begins to cinch her up but is unable to fasten the saddle. "Girl
doesn't want to wear the saddle," he comments before slapping her
side and with a huff the pony lets out the breath it was holding,
and he quickly pulls the straps tight. "Nothing uncommon, just give
them a poke in the side and they'll let out."
He goes on put the rest of the tackle on the mare, pointing out
where to tighten or to make certain that it doesn't pinch, keeping
the animal from getting sores. Make certain at the end of the day
that you give her a good brushing. Don't leave the saddle on her
with a sweat either lessin' it can't be helped, they'll get raw and
sore, and eventually you'll find yourself on your backside when she
decides she won't move any further. Now, lets get you up in the
saddle."
Bedwin takes a few moments to walk around the pony and looks at it
for a long while before he finally sighs and with uncertain
movements he reaches up and grabs the saddle pommel and pulls
himself up into the straps and saddle, almost pitching forward off
the other side as the mare takes a step sideways under the added
weight. Handing the reigns to the dwarf the man takes the halter
lead and begins to walk the animal slowly along the fence,
instructing the dour horse hating dwarf on the particulars of
horsemanship.
Before long the man has removed the halter lead and Bedwin is
controlling the horse all on his own, even sending the burdened pony
into a quick trot at the behest of the horse trainer. "She's a
smooth ride! You'll do well on her."
Watching the dwarf for a moment more the man finally makes his sales
pitch, "For fifty-five gold dragons you can have the mare and tack
that she's currently wearing, and five days worth of feed. How does
that suit you friend?"
Pulling the mare to a gentle stop Bedwin shifts a little in the
saddle. Taking a firm hold of the saddle pommel he leans over
towards one side and tries to dismount. Slipping slightly he just
manages to catch himself from plummeting head first into the ground
though his dismount still lacks more than a little grace and ease.
Once sure that he has his feet firmly underneath himself he
straightens and regards the man with a firm look. "I'm nae knowin'
much 'bout horses and tha like, though fifty five dragons seems a
little on tha high side."
Glancing over towards Marise and Alemnia he asks in a gruff voice,
"Does that seem a fair price ta yer?"
Marise climbs over the fence to come to stand near Bedwin and the
mare. "She war-trained?" Marise asks the stableboy. "I be meanin'
will she bolt if'n there are troubles we encounter?" Marise looks
closely at the pony's eyes checking to see if they are clear and
without matter.
"The one that was just sent back to its stall was the only one that
we've got that is war-trained. She might spook but she's a good
ride."
Looking into the animals eyes Marise see's that the animal has
clear, matter free eyes. The mares nostrils flare as she takes in
Marise's scent and tries to nibble on her hand briefly before
finding nothing in her hands.
Alemnia shakes her head slightly in response as Marise steps
forward. Following Marise she walks over by Bedwin and leans
casually (but lightly on him). "No, but I'm sure this man hasn't
applied your Adventurer's Guild discount as yet", she says looking
at the man in question.
"Oh aye, you've got writs of membership then? Why didn't you say so
friend?" the man says as he looks to Bedwin. "Forty-eight dragons
it'll be then, and a better price can't be found. I'll have to see
your writ though of course."
Jakihm hangs back and quietly watches. He has a speculative look on
his face.
"Forty-Eight? Forty'd be a fairer price with tack. Much else and yer
robbin' him. The pony is healthy, and she be a smooth ride even fer
him. Forty is a good price, with a bit o' palm greasin' even," says
the female dwarf.
The man mocks shock at the female dwarfs counter proposal,
"Forty-six," the man kneels beside the pony and lifts a fore hoof
that is well cleaned and shod with a horseshoe, "She'll go all day
and with new shoes, you'll not have to worry about her throwing
one." Straightening he pats the mares neck.
Looking intently from Marise and Alemnia, Bedwin reaches into his
belt pouch for his copy of his Adventurer's Guild writ. "If'n yer
givin' me a fair price," he says to the horse dealer, "then I can be
tellin' me fellow clansmen that this be a good place to come for
mounts. Course, if'n I find that yer not askin' a fair price ye'll
be gettin' few other dwur customers."
Taking the writ with a nod the man looks over parchment and then to
the seal at the bottom before rolling it up and handing it back to
Bedwin, "Fourty-five dragons and not a copper nib less. And for the
mare I'll even give her a pouch of honeyed oats for the trail." The
man smiles at this last, as if he truly enjoys the haggling, or
perhaps he believes he is being generous.
Tinem continues to pout about the size of his nose while sitting on
the fence rail. As the haggling becomes more heated and intense,
Tinem looks up and cracks a small grin, but stays out of the
negotiations.
A bargain having been struck for forty-five gold dragons the man
clasps hands with Bedwin to seal the bargain and turns and whistles
shrilly back towards the stables. Several heads look around corners
or out from stalls before the man spots the right one and waves the
same boy over from earlier.
"Take this mare and give her a good brushing and clean her hoofs,
then get the saddlebags that go with this saddle and put a bag of
the oats in with five days worth of feed," the man rattles off
younger boy. With a nod he takes the pony away.
Turning back to Bedwin he holds his hand out discreetly, accepting
the wealth of coins that the dwarf counts out slowly to him, the man
counts along with him. With the final coin in hand he runs a nail
across the face of a coin before he is satisfied and drops the coins
into a pouch.
"She'll be ready within the span of three badly sung bawdy songs,"
he says with a grin before continuing, "The boys have taken to
calling the mare .." at this he looks almost uncomfortable standing
before the armored dwarf, "Blossom.
"It's not like you were looking for a 'Lightning' or 'Hammerhoof'
anyway", Alemnia says to Bedwin.
Tinem watches on as the transaction is finalized. He grins widely at
the mare's name. "Blossom, eh?" he asks Bedwin. "Well, she'll fit
right in. The pony I bought just yesterday is called Daisy!" he adds
with a small giggle.
"Blossom," Bedwin mutters, clearly not happy at the prospect of
calling his mare such a name. "Might nae be wantin' a Lightning but
even somethin' like 'Pony' would be better than a flower."
Squaring his shoulders Bedwin looks up at his new pony, jaw firm and
a determined look in his eye. "Right," he says, addressing the
beast, "ye may have an unfortunate name, but that's nae ye fault so
we'll be sayin' nae more about it. But now ye are a dwur's pony, so
there'll be nae slackin' and we'll nae be takin' a back step to
naebody. If'n anybody wants ta be havin' fun at yer expense then
they'll be havin' me ta deal with as well."
Marise smiles broadly at Bedwin's new attitude, "Aya! An there be
nothin' wrong wit tha name Blossom. She's a pretty lass. Clean eyes
and good teeth, steady gait an' a sure step." She pats the pony once
more before heading out of the corral and looking for her own mount.
"Just what I look fer in a lass," Bedwin mutters as Marise leaves
the corral. "A steady gait an' teeth." After a moment he adds, "I'm
thinkin' it might be time ta sharpen me axe just in case ..."
Jakihm approaches and gives the pony a fond look. "She seems
perfectly suited to you, Bedwin my friend," he says in a light
voice. "Now let's see if we can catch up with the rest of our
wayward band. After all, adventure awaits!"
"Indeed! Let us wait no longer." Tinem says enthusiastically. He
jumps off the rail and follows Marise in to the stable to collect
Daisy.
"Daisy an' Blossom," Bedwin mutters, "what a pair they'll be makin'."
Taking the reins of his new pony he adds, "I'm goin' ta need ta pick
up some rations before we leave, but I can do that easy enough on
tha way back to tha guildhouse."
Mehet chuckles as she overlooks the new pony, “Blossom, a very
pretty name.”
She grins as the others start to walk back towards the adventurer’s
guild, “Is our trip imminent? I will need to go fetch my mount, she
is in the stable at the inn I am currently staying at.” She gives a
long glance towards Azenon, and then adds, “I need to purchase a bag
of oats to keep Kekewey’s step lively, then I shall come along. Must
we leave tonight? I have my room till tomorrow morning, no sense in
wasting a perfectly good room.”
Leading his steed by its reins, Azenon looks to Mehet and replies,
"I need to get a bag of oats for Inferno also. We can go to the
stable and then make our way back to the guild hall to meet the
others. Then we can decide when best to leave. How far is it to the
stable your horse is at? We might be able to make it there faster if
we ride," he says patting Inferno on the neck.
The woman grins at Azenon and nods, "It would be much faster to
ride." She walks over and waits for a helping hand up and behind the
saddle. "It's not far from here at all, I can direct you as we go."
After climbing atop Inferno and helping Mehet on, Azenon says,
"Let's meet the others at the guild hall before heading to your Inn,
just in case any of them need to get some supplies for their
mounts."
Date: Year of Wild Magic, 14 Present Reckoning, 20th of Eleasias
Location: Waterdeep - Southern Ward; Quilhearst Tower
Time: Early Noon
Na'tally and Amershaine quickly make their way onto Blackmul Street,
Na'tally getting a wave or good word from several of the neighbors
as she and Amershaine approach a squat four-story tower. Quilhearst
Tower.
Approaching the heavy iron banded door Na'tally pulls an ornate
black key from a pouch and inserts it into the door, muttering
something low under her breath before turning the key and opening
the door. A loud 'DONG' sounds in the foyer as the door opens.
Stepping inside Amershaine sees that the place is richly appointed,
globes of cold fire hanging from the walls and thick rugs covering
the stone floor. From somewhere upstairs an older mans voice calls
down, "Na'tally, back so soon?"
The moment his mistress is through the door, the coal black raven,
having spent some of the short journey riding Na'tally's shoulder
and some in the air, drops from his current shoulder perch, skimming
the floor. The bird vanishes through a side doorway.
"Hi, Uncle!" Then, Na'tally looks at Amershaine, a slight smile in
place. "I have a feeling you might be a bit uncomfortable around my
uncle, Amershaine, but we won't be
here long."
Amershaine offers a grim nod in response. As he looksat the ceiling
above him, his grim expression deepens to a scowl.
Then, stepping on in, she heads for her uncle, calling out, "I've
hooked up with a team heading out for the Mere of Dead Men, Uncle!
They're having some trouble up there.
Anyway, I was hoping you might know someone that knows something
that might help us." By this time, Na'tally has made her way
upstairs.
"But please," the mage adds, "I'm NOT asking for any more 'personal'
help." She seems just a bit bitter as she utters this last
statement.
Amershaine follows Na'tally in and up, constantly scanning his
surroundings as if expecting an orc ambush or spontaneous tea party
to leap upon him. Unconsciously, one hand has fallen to the throwing
axe at rest upon his right hip.
The sound of a chair being scooted back comes down from above as you
move up the stairs, Na'tally racing ahead to great her uncle,
Amershaine following at a more cautious rate. The tower, although
not lavish, is richly appointed with thick rugs, hanging works of
art and globes of cold fire up the wide curving stairs.
"Ah, so its the Mere you'll be fetchin' into is it? Dark place that.
Sure you want to ..". Whatever else he was about to say is cut of as
Amershaine finishes his climb to the second floor. The room appears
to be a study as two large desks occupy the middle of the room and
the walls are covered with shelves of books.
Vander Janisar looks to be in his mid-fifties and has by all
appearances enjoyed one too many meals as he has a rather large gut
which stretches the fabric of his expensive robe. White eyebrows
shoot up high on his wrinkled forehead as he pushes a pair of
rounded spectacles to the bridge of his crooked nose. "Well niece, I
see you brought a guest. Do be a dear and ask him to take his hand
away from that axe before I'm forced to fireball him. Hmmm?" Turning
his back to the both of you he shuts a book that he was reading.
"Now, what's this about the Mere of Dead Men? You and this young man
are planning to ride on in there? From what I've been hearing I do
pray that you've got more than just this bulging lad to protect
you?" Again he gives Amershaine a long look, as if sorting out just
what sort of person the half-elf is.
Clearing his throat he turns his attention back to Na'tally, "Now, I
happen to know something of that area, well actually most locales
within a hundred miles of here, but you know that. Even have a
damned book around here on the place, dreadful dull though and of
little help." Scratching his stubbled chin he continues in thought,
"Ol' Bershine used to hunt those parts if my memory serves. But ...
" he stops for a second and shakes his head, "Ah, but he died of the
shakes last winter."
"Well, if you have a day or two, I'm sure I can find someone that
has been to those parts." He looks to Na'tally with a small worried
smile on his face.
After assuring himself that no ambushes are eminent, Amershaine nods
to the old man. He then moves over to a wall and once again assumes
his resting crouch, focusing his fierce gaze upon the two humans as
he listens intently.
Even as Amershaine moves, Na'tally begins to shake her head. "We
don't have time to hang around. We're supposed to be moving north in
a few hours," Na'tally sighs. "Once
the others are mounted and equipped, we'll be heading out."
"Well, since you know some things about the place, I guess we'll go
with that?" At this last, the large raven that is Na'tally's
familiar comes hopping into the room, wings half spread for balance
and a bloody gobbet of meat in his beak. With a jerk of his head,
the glob vanishes down it's gullet, and then, it spits out, in
Orcish no less, "Hey, Fat Mat, how they hangin'?" Na'tally barely
notices the bird's statement.
Vandar shakes his head at the haste of his niece but wisely keeps
his advice to himself as he turns and begins to scan through the
many books lining his shelves, "Well, for starters ..." at this he
trails off as Na'tally's familiar enters the room and insults him.
"Gurrack doul'v umst via'diack! (roughly translated 'Run bird before
I feast!" he yells back at the gimlet eyed avian. "Really Na'tally,
if he wasn't yours, I would blast that damned familiar of yours to
feathers and bones." In a huff the man turns back to his task of
locating a book.
"Well, from memory I can tell you that lizard men and undead plague
that place, though any fool could tell you that. Will o' wisps too,
so don't go chasing after any dancing lights in that place. Just get
yourself run into quicksand or some other natural hazard. Oh, and
I'm to understand that the insects are just horrible." Checking the
titles of several books he finally pulls one out and opens it up
briefly scanning the words, "Ahah, here we go." With a groan he
steps down from the stool he was using and seats himself into an
overstuffed chair at his desk and begins to scan the text quickly.
"Ah yes, now I remember. Well, as you know that whole area is what
they used to call the Fallen Kingdom, made that way be the lich
Iniarv who's magic cracked open the earth and called forth the waves
of the sea, drowning the whole land, as well as the rest of the
human army and the whole of an orc horde. It came to be known as the
Mere of Dead Men shortly thereafter due to the number of dead in
that wasted place, not to mention the undead now roaming it. Lizard
men and the like soon took the place as their own."
Flipping a few pages and bringing it closer to his face for a moment
to squint at something he continues, "Salt marsh, covers about
hundred miles of coast and comes inland about thirty miles." He
looks up for a moment as if adding numbers in his head, "Yes, that
sounds about right."
Turning back to the book he continues, "The place is rich with ruins
now, most swamped and under water but more than one tower spire or
roof can be seen above the waters." Looking up he peers at Na'tally
intently, "Don't go getting it in your fool head to charge into
places like that niece. First, you can't breath water and second,
bad things make their homes there for a reason." Without too much of
a pause he says blithely, "Feel free to send the bird in first."
Turning to Amershaine, Vander looks at him over his spectacles,
"Young man, if you're going with my niece, can I assume you'll be
doing you're earnest best to keep her from joining the dead in that
place?"
Amershaine shifts to one knee and places his hand upon a carved
ivory unicorn head suspended on a silver chain encircling his neck.
"By the Lady of the Forest, and with her guidance, I will watch over
and protect your niece as if she were born of my own tribe." He
concludes with a bow of his head and returns to his resting crouch,
his unwavering stare focused exclusively on Na'tally.
Na'tally, busy writing as fast as she could while her uncle talked,
doesn't look up until Amershaine's response. She returns the
warrior's look warily, then shoots a look
at her uncle, glaring at the man, knowing he'd just somehow managed
to get his sticky fingers into her business - again.
"Ah, I'm sure I'll be able to handle myself, Amershaine. I
appreciate the thought though, really."
Turning back to her uncle, she holds out her arm for Harly. The
raven, having blissfully ignored the old mage's threat, has been
busy sharpening his beak on the flagstone floor. At the mage's
gesture, the bird launches itself into the air and thuds heavily
onto Na'tally's arm.
Na'tally raises her arm, causing the bird to spread his wings
further for balance, and says to her uncle, "My thanks, uncle, for
all of your 'help'." She truly appreciates the information he's
given her. She is also truly annoyed with the meddling old man for
his over protectiveness.
"Off you go," she says, and hurls the raven toward the door. The
bird swoops low and disappears down the stairs.
Then, Na'tally puts aside her annoyance and, with a sigh, she hugs
her uncle, saying, "I will be careful, you know," replaying the
scene they'd had only a few hours before.
As Amershaine goes to one knee and pledges to protect Na'tally as
one of his own tribe, Vander's face lights up with an extremely
satisfied smile, atleast until Na'tally looks up and then the older
mage is quickly trying to wipe any sign of satisfaction off his
face. "Uh-hrmmm, yes, well young man, I'll hold you to that I will."
Turning back to his niece he says, "Nice young man there." He shoots
the half-elf an almost thankful look the second Na'tally looks away
for but a moment.
As Na'tally calls Harly and sends him on his way, Vander eyes the
animal with distaste and nods with a sad smile as Na'tally reassures
him. "I know, but I worry! Can't be helped." Closing the book he
holds with a loud bang he turns to put it back in its place, "Well,
this is all that we're going to get out of this book. I'm sure if
you but delayed your departure by a day or two I could come up with
something."
Looking through his books for a few moments more he finally sighs
and turns around shaking his head. Suddenly he snaps his fingers,
"Bugger the hells, where is my memory today," looking to Na'tally he
continues with a smile on his face, "I DO know someone that has been
into the Mere afterall. Remember that man that I bought that
mugglewort and firegrass from .." he trails off for a moment and
frowns, "no, that was when you were .. gone," he says this
reluctantly. "Well never you mind. I know just the person, should he
be available and willing, that would be perfect to go right along
with you to the Mere of Dead Men. He's been there several times to
my knowledge and he's managed to come back. That's a sign of some
skill I would say."
With a fast step he turns back to his desk and begins to open
drawers, looking for something in particular until he finally makes
a noise of triumph and pulls forth a thin brown leather book and
starts flipping through it, "... catspaw, no ... leg of behiir, no
... aha! Mugglewort. I purchased it from a man named Torstag and I
know just where to reach him if he's still about." Turning to his
niece he continues, "Your day is almost gone as it is, if you could
just but stay the night and leave on the morn I might be able to
engage this Torstag as a scout for you and your friends?"
Na'tally's look is doubtful (with just a hint of distrust). "Well,"
she says, looking to Amershaine to see what he thinks, "I can't
really make that decision on my own. Our companions are expecting us
to meet them shortly, and then we're supposed to head on out."
Amershaine shrugs his shoulders and points toward the ceiling in the
exact direction of the sun. "The sun will rise tomorrow either way."
She pauses a moment. "They might be willing to wait till morning
though for the promise of a guide."
Nodding, Na'tally says, "Alright. I'll ask them. If we can't wait,
I'll send a message letting you know that we're heading out. If not,
I'll send one to let you know where we're staying." Before her uncle
can protest, Na'tally adds, "No, I'll stay with the others. We need
to come together as a team, and I won't be able to do that if I'm
not there."
Na'tally, putting aside whatever seems to be bothering her about her
uncle, smiles, moves in and gives the old man a warm, loving hug
(it's obvious that, whatever issues she
has, she loves this man) and a quick kiss on his furry cheek.
"Don't forget to put out the brazier in the lab when you're done in
there. I don't want you to burn the place down."
Na'tally steps away, and nods. "I think we're ready then. We should
head back and link up with the others, right?" This last is directed
at Amershaine, her newly sworn protector.
Amershaine merely nods and heads for the stairs.
As Na'tally insists on asking the others and staying out with her
new companions, Vander gives a glum nod, "At least that damned bird
will be gone," he mutters under his breath after his niece gives him
a warm hug and kiss which he returns.
"Don't worry about the brazier child, as if I would ever burn the
place up!" he says with no small amount of dignity. "I'll expect
your message soon. Try to let the others know that a skilled tracker
might just be what you need. Besides, can't hurt to have another
sword along now can it?" he asks with sincerity.
He walks with the two of you back down the stairs to the foyer and
with a quick kiss on Na'tally's cheek he waves her out the door,
ducking quickly at the sound of wings just as Harly dives past him.
"Damn bird!" he mutters as he nearly slams the door on Amershaine,
his grumblings about his nieces familiar can still be heard through
the thick door.
As the two leave the tower, Na'tally waves off Harly, who takes to
the air. She then looks at Amershaine.
"Well," she says, "I guess we can head back to the guild, or maybe
swing by that stable the others were going to. I don't really need
anything more right now. You?"
Amershaine mounts Oakshield in a graceful leap. "I require nothing
more. We should return to the guild and await the arrival of our
companions."
Na'tally nods, "Alright." For a moment her eyes lose focus as she
seems to concentrate elsewhere. A moment later, Harly lets out a
loud Cawww! and wings away over the rooftops, heading in the
direction of the Adventurer's Guild.
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