The Barrow Wight Slayers - Rags to Riches - Part Three

     

   

 Domečar 1st, 1483 AA. Roccastra, Republic di Virella. Noon.      

    The Dorsilva River trickles down, the water moving along. A single leaf slowly floats down the river, heading towards the Great Strybrne River, and finally the Imperial Sea. The four hop across the river, on stones from the fallen bridge, one by one, each splashing a bit of water onto their pants. They are getting close now. 

    However, from up ahead, they hear voices. Five men, including one wearing chainmail and a nasal helm, walk out from a large rock. They all have shoddy weapons and shields, other than one who has a shortbow and a poaching bag.

    "Stop! Hark! This is our trail! We don't let just anyone through. Unless you have the coin, that is. Two farthings for each man, so that would be two pence. Hand it over, laddies!" The most armored man says. 

    Argunijin squeezes his palm on his halberd, with Thalyros doing the same with his two-handed mace. Gunbu puts her hands into a small brown pouch at her waist, keeping it there for the time being. The only person that stays calm is Levius.

    "Right, that is reasonable. I apologize for trespassing, I hadn't the faintest idea that this was your land!" He fishes two pence out of his pocket and tosses them to the men. "We'll be on our way now, again, apologies!" Levius exhales a breath of fresh air. The group also loosen up after that point.

    The group finally arrive at the outpost. On a hill, sits a square-shaped palisade wall, and on one corner of it sits a three-floor stone based tower. It's upper levels are made of wood, with the highest floor having a small lookout with an unlit torch. The gate is ajar, the grass inside is overgrown, and there is no noise coming from the courtyard.

    "This is off. That torch is supposed to be lit, there's no noise, and there's no guards. This isn't good." Levius says. Levius is a young man with black hair, grey eyes, and pale skin. He was once a Auxilia in the Holy Karian Empire, but he doesn't talk much about that. He often talks about subjects that nobles would enjoy, however -- war, wine, women, etc.

    Argun does not heed Levius' warning however, barging into the fort. He shouts that it is clear, and the rest of the group floods in. In the inner courtyard is an abandoned wagon with molding goods. The tower itself is also open. There are also two smaller buildings and an outhouse. The first, on the left, is a small cottage. On the right is a shed, which sits next to the outhouse.

    Gunbu walks to the small cottage with Argun, and Levius goes to the shed. Thalyros stands and looks at the tower, but doesn't speak. 

    "Shash urdim. Stïvut don onzh ngotol? Onzh thoth? Voden mol torum... irol!" Gunbu mutters to herself. She speaks in a language that even Argun doesn't understand. Argun does understand Voden, the All-Father. Gunbu is a black-haired Wildling. Her hair is curly and unkempt, she wears no shirt, but rather forearm wraps and a dress that goes from her hips down. Her hair also covers her face, which hide her gray eyes and pretty face. She wears a belt over her dress, which has a small white leather pouch, a hunting horn, and a larger bag which holds a tent. She also has a spear.

    Walking into the building, she looks around, but finds nothing of note. The building itself has two beds, a table with a straw doll on it, and a fireplace. She takes the straw doll, and inspects it.

    "Gon mizh enur anir. Gon aval don, Ingrith." She says, before tucking away the doll. Argunijin spots a small bag of silver, which has four pence in it. Thalyros continues staring at the door of the tower, muttering the following in Anubic: "Nal alir mal abalalgi.". Levius finds nothing but tools covered in dust in the shed. 

The Barrow Wight Slayers - Rags to Riches - Part Two

Domečar 1st, 1483 AA. Roccastra, Republic di Virella. Early Morning. 

     The group, after circling the town, find a few places to go. The first is called Cassian's General Store. It is a small building, which looks to be a three room house; one to sleep, one to sell, and one to store. The building itself is made of stone, with the front door being an oak door. There also sat a mullioned window, which had a construction like two stacked plusses. Through the window, the group saw a middle-aged man, who seemed to be a northern Imperial.

    They walk in, opening the heavy oak door, which swings inward. The man at the desk, who they assumed to be Cassian, has a thick and curly brown beard, with short straight hair, which is a slightly lighter shade of brown. The room itself has two tables, a counter, and two doors behind that counter. One of them is an arch which leads to a bedroom, the other is another door, with a lock on it. 

    "Greetings! Welcome to my shop!" He motions his hands around the room to various goods. On one table is an old gambeson and a slightly rusty nasal helm. On another table, various supplies for caravans, and on the counter, a stack of bread. General stores like this are common in backwater towns, as trade still flows, but someone needs to sell the goods after purchasing them.

    "We're looking for supplies; food and water for a three day trip. Also some rope, twenty feet." Argunijin says. Argunijin fishes a small pouch of coins from his belt. The man then counts the people, and gathers a small pile of supplies. He then counts the supplies. "A shilling and two pence for all of it." Cassian says. The group then pile their funds, putting money towards the group's food. 

    "What do you know about the lost caravan?" Thalyros says, putting his share of food in his bag. Their rations consist of a leather waterskin, some saltpork, and a few breadrolls. "We overheard that it had gone missing, and we got curious."

    "Is that why my shipment didn't come in? I was expecting a few wicker baskets and a half-dozen candles, but they never came. If it truly is missing, that would mean it will be a dark week, as most of my stock of candles are already gone. That might be where that crazy caravan hand came from, in the Church. Brother James won't let us talk to him. Well, in any case, I don't know anything about it's disappearance. It stops at the Dorsilva Trade Outpost before it comes here, so I'd look there." Cassian says. "Have a good day now, y'all."

    The group steps out of Cassian's store, and then heads to the Rathaus. The Rathaus and the Church that is in its basement is a stone structure where the current manager of the town resides. Curiously, unlike all other towns, this town has no Lord nor Manor. However, they are here to visit the Priest who lives in the basement. Thalyros goes in first, then the rest of the group. They see an inner area with a few pews, a lectern, and two doors at the back of the room. One of them seemingly leads to an infirmary and the other leads to the priest's bedroom. 

    As they walk in, a man in brown ropes with purple accents at the hems of the robes walks out of the infirmary. It is rather obvious he is a priest. He is shaking his hands, which are wet. He has a standard Anubian Sun pendant around his neck, which hangs just below his collar bone. In the center of it is a golden-brown amber.

    "Greetings, my brothers and sisters!" He says. He smiles at the group. The man, who is most likely the Brother James they had heard about, has the Anubian tonsure (which is more uncommon now then when it was mandated when the Church was first founded) and stubble on his face. His hair is the same color as his amber, and his eyes are a deep hazel. "What brings you into my Church at this hour?"

    "We are looking for a caravan hand, not sure of his name. Cassian said we might be able to find him in here." Thalyros says.

    "He is in the back room, but I can't let you see him. He is delusional." The priest says. "It is best to wait a few days, to see if his condition improves." He smiles, despite the situation he is describing.

    "Hmm, but have you considered that I am Thalyros Anubus? The Second Prophet of Anubism?" Thalyros says, smiling. He is very serious. His group doesn't even bat an eye at this, other than Levius, who loudly sighs. 

    The priest's smile drops, and he immediately starts yelling at Thalyros, who in response, just smiles. Eventually they are forced out, and probably will not return to that Church as long as the priest resides there. 

    "God damn it, Thalyros!" Levius says. "That was our only lead! Can you not keep your beliefs to yourself for one damned second?"

    "It is true though, so it isn't really my fault, if you think about it." Thalyros places his left hand at the edge of his lip, almost mockingly. "If he can't accept that I am the Second Prophet of Anubism, then he can take that up with me later. For now, however, it is mildly unfortunate."

    Levius sighs. "Fine. Let's go to the outpost, and if anything bad happens, it is your fault, Thalyros." 

The Barrow Wight Slayers - Rags to Riches - Part One

Domečar 1st, 1483 AA. Roccastra, Republic di Virella. Sunrise.

     Roccastra is quiet at this hour. Farmers are beginning to finally wake. Four odd adventurers walk into the Raging Ibex. The group consists of two far northerners, an imperial veteran, and a queer cleric of some sort. The veteran, named Levius, walks to the front of the bar.

    "Hello! I am Levius, and these are my companions. The Archer over there is Argunijin Noyakin, a Wildling of the North. The other northerner is Gunbu, some sort of scholar. The last one is Thalyros, a religious fanatic. We are former members of the Bannerless, a mercenary company, and we are in search of work." 

    Levius then fishes out two pence and purchases some ale for the party. The barkeep, after, delivering on the ale, responded. "Hmmm. Well, I would talk to the Caravaner, Sevrano di Karsio. He was in here the other day and said his wagon went missing."

    The group then finish their drinks, rather quickly for how early it is, and then thank the barkeep. They then walk around town. The town itself is rather homely. It is early in Lentmarch, meaning that the seeding of the fields is underway. The trees in the outskirts of the village are leafing out finally, giving a vibrant green color, refreshing after the previous winter, which was especially harsh. 

    On the way to the Caravansary, the group saw a serf, carrying a sack of seeds. He was bearded, with freckled cheeks, and a scar was strewn about his face, going from his left eye down to his lip. He looked at the four men, but pressed onwards to where ever he was going. He also, curiously, had a shovel in his other hand.

    At the Caravansary, there is a front building, a courtyard behind it, and then two more buildings, which Argunijin assumed was a stall and a small dormitory. A cart with two mules sat in the rear courtyard, with various goods being loaded onto it. They walked through the front door soon after arriving, pausing only to look at the rather muscular man who was loading goods onto the cart.

    "Hello there!" A northern Imperial man said from a desk as soon as they opened the door. "What business are you here on? Are you here to become caravan hands? Are you here to buy goods?"

    "No, actually we heard you had issues with a caravan going missing. The four of us are willing to go looking for it." Levius says, extending his hand to shake the man at the desk.

    As Levius stepped forward, he got a better look at the man behind the counter. He has a shaved face, with his right ear split in two. It is odd for a man who leads a trade outpost for the Trader's Guild to be a schlitzohr, though it could be from another sort of accident.

    "Yes, I have had issues with that. There is an outpost four miles out of town, called the Dorsilva River Outpost. Unfortunately, the wagon I sent there did not return. This was roughly two weeks ago, and the two caravan hands I sent to investigate didn't return. We assume foul play -- either Bandits or Wolves." The man says. "I also suppose I hadn't introduced myself. I am Sevrano di Karsio, Mercataeon of this here Trade Outpost."

    "What about payment?" Argunijin says, taking the bowstring out of his helmet and beginning to string his bow. "This seems like work cut out for us, but we need payment."

    The Mercataeon thinks for a while, and then begins drafting a contract. However, only Thalyros and Levius can read. "It is in order to pay you three pence per man, with an additional boon of one shilling upon completion of the contract to split amongst yourselves. The contract itself is to find whatever caused the disappearance of the caravan hands (as they wouldn't abandon our goods like that) and rectify the situation. Does that seem fair?"

    The group confers privately, and then responds with a nod. Levius signs the paper for the group and turns to leave. The rest of the group follows. They had been to the outpost on their way here; they need no directions.

    The outpost is remembered well among the four adventurers. When the Bannerless fell, at the hands of Hraznik the Bloody -- a vile orc who led a warband that conquered and looted anything in its path -- they were some of the only survivors. They worked together to get to travel more than a hundred miles since then, stopping in towns to do jobs. They finally made it into West Virella by late Frandrecht, and had started on their way to Roccastra near the end of the month. 

    On the morning of Frandrecht 30th it was foggy and drizzling. The group broke camp, and made their way along the Dorsilva River. They were planning to stop at the Dorsilva River Outpost, as often they have messages that they are willing to pay people to bring to town. When they arrived to the outpost, however, it was an odd sight. 

    The gate was wide open, the torch was unlit, and mud under the gate had prints of a struggling body. A strange feeling also emanated from the buildings there. On the path leading up to the building was a wagon trail along with what seemed to be the prints of two oxen. Whatever happened at the outpost, it was surely not good.