When the Going Gets Tough IC

[Jarian]

"I distrust everyone in this gods-forsaken city these days," Janik sighs, shaking his head. "But you are not alone, no. Still, unless your fortunes are vastly better than my own, I see little choice but to go forward with what we've been offered. If the deal turns sour, well..." A pair of spiked knuckles briefly phase into being around his hands, which he clutches into fists before allowing the knuckles to disappear in puffs of arcana-laced smoke. "...there are ways of dealing with traitorous employers."

[planswalker]

Talehos will approach the two and keep an eye on them.

[Othesemo]

Talehos-

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As you creep up behind them, you see what it is they seem to be staring at. Before them lies a deck of cards, spread out upon the ground. They appear to be intently staring at the cards, quickly reaching out and shifting them about in some sort of game. While so doing, they mutter to each other in a language you don't recognize.

[Ajadea]

Thomas shrugs and spills another helping of watered-down ale onto the table. "Mister D seems nice enough," he says, for once appearing to talk to the actually visible and tangible people in the room. "But I don't think he's entirely human. And he doesn't want anyone to know, either, else he'd not be running around in a hood and a cloak. It's too hot for that." He states these observations with the sort of matter-of-factness that one would use to say that the famine was still continuing.

[planswalker]

Talehos will stay still for now, trying to listen to them. If they move, he'll try to follow them.

listen - (d20+4)[13]

[Othesemo]

Talehos-

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Some minutes pass, and the men seem to grow increasingly agitated. From time to time, they glance behind them, and though you try to duck out of the way, you're fairly certain that one of them noticed you. Another minute passes, and the two men say nothing. Finally, one of them speaks in common. In a voice like gravel, he mutters "Useless. He isn't coming."

The other nods, and together the scoop up their cards and place them in a leather holder. In unison, they stand, dusting off their pants, before striding from the alley. They turn down the street and walk abreast- as they pass, one of them turns toward you and glares angrily.

[Silverking]

"Well in that case, I should probably head out. It's always a good idea to be early to these sorts of things," Lycus says, adding under his breath, "or so I'm told." He stands, finishing his mug and begining to move towards the door. "By the way," He calls over his shoulder, "one of you should tell that kid who walked off earlier that we're all headed to the crossroads. Wouldn't want him to get lost." With that said, Lycus has left the building.

[planswalker]

His reconnaissance done, Talehos reports back to the group about what he has seen.

[Ajadea]

Thomas nods. "Uh huh. Two guys waiting for something. That's interesting, I guess. But if the third guy didn't come, then I guess they can't do the thing they want to do, so it's not a problem right now. Mister Lycus already left for the gates. I was waiting for you to come back." He takes two more hearty gulps of the ale and then knocks the mug down. The last few drops spill onto the floor. "You done?" Scarcely a moment goes by before he barrels on with the conversation. "Right then, let's go!" He dashes out, weaving around human legs and table legs, and out the door to catch up with Lycus. "That wasn't a bad place at all! I'll have to remember it. The Jolly Pemtrils. It's kind of a strange name though. Do you know what a Pemtril is? Sounds like a Tendril. Maybe the tavern owner couldn't spell?"

[planswalker]

Talehos follows along behind Thomas.

[Othesemo]

Over the next several minutes, each of you navigates through the city as best you can. After what seems an unnecessarily long sequence of pushing through crowds and absently mindedly apologizing to whomever you run into, you find yourself at the gates of the city.

The Aldalar wall is just more than a decade old. It stands near twenty feet tall, and the stone is far too smooth to climb. Standing atop the wall, near the gate are two guards armed with crossbows whose purpose is apparently to persuade refugees to stay outside the gates. Their bows are loaded, and the refugees seem very persuaded indeed. Many of them huddle within tents, hoping to avoid the sun's heat. Those few who stand outside seem to mull about without purpose, simply hoping for some stroke of luck to slake their thirst and give them a roof above their heads.

It is just shy of two hours after noon, and you are expected to meet 'Vasyl' some ten miles to the west of the city. Wishing to waste no time, you set out immediately- the taller among you walking swiftly, the halflings forced to keep a light jog.

Barely half an hour passes before you are stopped. From the side of the road walks forth a man- judging by his clothes, a refugee. He seems to have made an effort to maintain his short cropped beard, but for all his effort it is unevenly cut and filled with twigs and dust. He approaches you calmly, his eyes lowered to the ground. "Pardon me," he says, his voice sounding as if he hadn't drunk water in months, "but I have seen you leave the city. I caution you, you have not enough supplies to travel far from here. Silver is worth little when you are needing something to fill your stomach. May I ask where you are going with so little in your packs?"

[planswalker]

"Our business was told in confidence, and is none of yours. God will provide what we need. You need not concern yourself with us. But thank you for your offer."

[Othesemo]

The man stops, clearly taken aback. For a moment he stares at you before turning his back to you. He calls over his shoulder "Very well, sir. Take care on that road. There are many unpleasant surprises to be found by the unprepared." He steps onto the road and walks past you, toward the city. He coughs to himself, his entire frame shuddering in rhythm with his steps.

[Silverking]

Lycus silently looks over his shoulder to watch the man go, mulling his words over in his head. *What was with that guy?* He wonders to himself. *Was that supposed to be a warning, a threat, or something else entirely? What was his angle?*

Sense Motive

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(1d20+1)[17]

[Othesemo]

Lycus

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You're left with a slightly sour taste in your mouth after watching him go. Although you're not entirely certain what his intention was, you're almost positive that his motivation wasn't altruism.

[Jarian]

Janik spares a glance to be sure the man truly is continuing on his way, then looks back to the road stretching before the group. "I would not have been so hasty with one offering warning, myself..." he mutters under his breath, before picking up the pace again. His foot catches on a bit of exposed rock before he has taken five paces, and - with an oath to curl ears - he barely manages to right himself before falling on his face.

Grimmacing, both in discomfort and distaste of the entire situation, he grumbles something about buying a horse before continuing on.

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And this is why I never leave home level 2 without a mount. Walking is just undignified. Walking ten miles with Merry and Pippin in tow even moreso.

Onwards, to the ambush glory!

[planswalker]

"Um... we were all but told to expect ambushes and deceptions on this quest. Odds are, he was setting us up for an ambush. The city is in the grip of a terrible famine and, by sheer coincidence, a fellow is outside the gates selling supplies to people traveling on the roads? Considering that bread is worth its weight in gold at the moment, no one with food to spare to sell to adventurers leaving the city would look that scruffy. Furthermore, IF he has food, it's better spent inside the city to help those who can't easily leave to get their own food. Call my suspicions paranoid if you will, but I saw the best possible scenario one where he gave us the runaround before his buddies in an alley tried to mug us, we defeat them, and gain some equipment off of them to aid us in our quest. Worst case, we end up leading his buddies straight to the object we are trying to reach. I'd be half-surprised if someone isn't trying to follow us and spy on us right now. If I was hunting the object we seek, that's what I'd be doing."

[Ajadea]

"Or," Thomas suggests, "He was trying to be nice, and keep us from starving to death out there. Not everyone's plotting something. Sometimes they're just actually trying to help. He doesn't know we're going down the road. Especially since you say we're on a quest, and call on the gods an' all that." He doesn't seem to have any trouble keeping up, despite the fact he's giving a small lecture. "A quest has dragons and princesses and evil things. Well, at least one of those. We're helping a guy keep his friend safe, and he's paying us. Is the idea of something being that simple really so crazy to you?"

[Silverking]

"Sorry kid, but I'm pretty sure they're right," Lycus says without turning. "That guy gives me a bad feeling, and where I come from, you learn to take heed of your instincts." He thinks for a moment, glancing up and down the road. "But then again, I don't see any signs of anyone following us."

Spot (just in case)

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(1d20+5)[16]

[planswalker]

"If you truly feel me in error, I don't mind waiting here while you chase him down and apologize."

[GFawkes]

"If we wait, we may miss our delivery man. If we are truly in danger, we should be more than capable of handling it."

"But he seemed really put off by the remark-"

"And we are carrying two handed swords. He'll know it's a bad idea to attack us."

[planswalker]

Talehos will continue on to the rendezvous. Not really knowing the other people hired on yet, he will trust them to come according to their own initiatives or not. Leadership would require there to be a sense of community within the group.

[Ajadea]

"I don't think he'd like us botherin' him now..." Thomas says. All the same, he hesitates for a moment before moving on.

[Othesemo]

Lycus-

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A quick glance through the nearby area seems to confirm that you are alone.

After a moment of hesitation, each of you follows after the paladin. By your estimation, you've got another eight miles or so to cover, and within the next two or three hours.

The rest of your walk is somewhat uneventful. As mile after mile of parched, dusty road passes by, you find yourself regretting not bringing more water. Nearly a mile from your destination, you run out of it entirely. You sincerely hope that 'Vasyl' will be willing to share his own.

When you finally arrive at the crossroads, the sun hangs halfway above the mountains to the west. The heat is practically unbearable, and together you stand beneath a small tree off the side of the road, relishing the shade. Some minutes of silence pass as you recuperate before you catch sight of your caravan.

It seems a rickety old thing, barely able to hold the weight placed upon it. The back half of the cart is covered in white canvas, which is fastened to the sides with large metal pegs. You suppose this to be to keep the food as cool as possible. Pulling the cart is a single donkey, looking thoroughly exhausted. At the seat of the cart are two humans- a man and a woman. The woman holds the reins of the donkey, while the man (Vasyl, you presume), leans back against the cart, shading himself from the sun. At the moment, they're nearly two hundred feet away, and they steadily approach you as quickly as one very tired donkey can allow.

[planswalker]

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I am completely bewildered about how not having water for a few hours is going to be a problem.

Even if we drink up our water in three hours (which unless we've only brought a mouthful makes no sense), it should take a day before any sort of serious issues develop, and last I checked, we're talking about a couple hours' walk to our destination. Even if it takes the cart twice as long to get back, we're still not talking enough time for this to matter.

Talehos will wait for them to approach the meeting point as directed. If some of the others wish to go ahead to greet them, he'd be fine with that. He feels that at least one person should stay here to keep an eye on things.

[Silverking]

Lycus continues walking with the group, watching the sun pass lower in the sky, as well as the occasional glance around for anything out of the ordinary. Eventually, he spots a caravan in the distance, and increases his pace to meet it. As he comes within shouting distance, he calls "Hey, are you Vasyl? We were sent out here to meet you!"

[Othesemo]

The man- Vasyl, you presume, nods toward the woman at his side, and she stops the cart. As he examines you, you take the opportunity to more fully examine him. His olive skin is turned darker by dust, and his small, brown eyes squint at you angrily. He is by no means thin- indeed, he looks as if he would have difficulty walking alongside the cart for any long period of time. A wide cloth hat shades his head from the sun, but his uncovered arms seem all but painted red. He wears clothes that are best described as peasant's finery- a light brown canvas shirt, as well as a hempen vest and pants. His boots are simple leather fashioned into a roughly foot shaped form- you suspect that actually walking in them would grow painful rather quickly.

When he speaks, a thick Slavic accent forces you to strain to understand him. "Oh," he asks, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "By whom were you sent?"

[Ajadea]

Thomas salutes the man - Vessel, if he remembered correctly. An odd name, but Mister D and his friend were both foreign, and foreigners had odd names. It was practically a rule. And this man had the same sort of voice sound as Mister D. But that wasn't the name Vessel was probably looking for. "Um, Mister Dee- um, Dim - Dimmytro?" The instant the words are out of his mouth, he knows he's still not quite got the right pronunciation, but never the less, he continues on. "He had a cloak and a hood and I don't think he's human but it's kinda hard to tell from down here."

[Othesemo]

He raises an eyebrow at the halfling's attempt to pronounce Dmytro's name, but doesn't comment. Instead, he smiles slightly to himself. "Dmytro, you say? Is he still wearing that damn cloak? Pah, he's too damn self conscious for his own good." He rolls his eyes dramatically. "And he sent you to get me past the gate, I assume?"

[planswalker]

Talehos keeps an eye out, suspecting an ambush while we're stuck out here in the open and haven't yet formalized the guard racket.