AFF solo - Part XIV: Caravan guards!

Yagk is a walled town built on an escarpment looking down onto the river [feature: fortified settlement]. The guards at the dockside gate are [reaction=7] decidedly uninterested, but let the travellers pass. The mood in the streets is subdued, as priests meander about blessing the fortifications in the name of Usrel, goddess of Peace [Cities encounter].

[Event (from last post): Introduce a new NPC - Recruit / Exterior factors
the NPC approaches (d10) 1 f, 3-4 g, 5-7 i, 8-0 k; 1d10=g

UNE--
NPC Relationship: friendly
Conversation Mood: sociable]

That night, Grebdal Themp is still drinking in the inn's common room long after his friends have retired. The only other patron present (excepting the tradesman passed out in the corner) is a middle-aged man in simple yet costly travelling clothes. They fall to talking in the disinterested way that travellers do, but Grebdal Themp gets the impression that he's being sized up.

L to R : Ksandajja the sorceress, Ilog the warrior, Fhenteskeer the fire-priest, Grebdal Themp the "stealth specialist"

He tells of meeting Ksandajja the sorceress in coin-clipping Ângu, and how she led them beneath the city streets to root out the cult of Decay. He speaks of meeting Ilog in Ulq, and following the huge warrior through the steamy, cannibal-infested jungle to the ruined temple of a forgotten demoness, where they put an end to to the evil scheme of a mad wizard. He tells how Fenteskeer, priest of Filash, called down his god's lambent flames to eradicate the undead menaces therein, how mighty Ilog bested the wizard's sorcerous creation with his whirling mace-and-chain, and how the sorceress at last defeated the wizard with spell and steel. And so too does he tell of his own occasional valour, as when he himself felled the wizard's mutated reptile-creature with his own swift blade.

"Those sound like quite the adventures! Though whether I should credit them or not... no matter. You say you're headed to Drammub next. My caravan departs for Drammub in a few days. We could use some extra guards on this trip; the desert raiders have been exceptionally bold of late, and they've been seen further west than Tross -- to say nothing of the other hazards of the wilderness! If you and your friends are looking for some work, come see me before we leave. It's safer with the caravan, and certainly more lucrative than paying us for passage."

"I shall put it to them on the morrow. But whom should I ask for at the caravanserai?"

"When I said it was my caravan, I did not speak lightly. I am Novoldgan, scion of the Venerable Trading House of Drund. I hope we shall meet again soon."

* * *

Grebdal Themp puts Novoldgan's offer before his companions, and they unanimously agree that travelling with the caravan is the simplest course of action. They go to see him straightaway, and after he interviews each of them in turn about their skills and abilities, decides to hire them all.

The next two days in the small town pass without incident. The briefest flutter of excitement occurs when Ksandajja finally finds a buyer for the hideous sacrificial dagger she took from the defeated Decay cult magician, and buys her friends a round of drinks to celebrate.

[I abstracted the interviews down to a single skill test for each PC (at +1, as they are the right sort for the job), based on what they are bringing to the table.

K: "I'm a sorceress." MAGIC 5 + Sorcery 2 +1 =8; 2d6=7, ok
I: "Check out these thews. They are mighty, no?" SKILL 7 + Strength 2 +1 =10: 2d6=9, ok
F: "My god will ensure the success of your mission." MAGIC 6 + Priestly mag. 3 +1 =10; 2d6=3, ok
G: "I'm surprisingly good in a fight." SKILL 7 + Swords 2 +1 =10; 2d6=8, ok ("No hard feelings, said Novoldgan, but I needed to be sure I had the right measure of you when I'm not in my cups."

They leave in 1d6=2 days

Pay is 8gp/day, per Heroes' Companion, mercenary soldier -- he's only paying for guard duty, not spellcasters/thieves/etc., even though he hired them based on what they bring to the table. Plus they get free PROVISIONS.

The fancy sacrificial dagger was worth 2d6=7gp; Ksandajja tried to sell it for twice that (she'd no clue of its value). The merchant's Skill/Bargain: 1d6+3=8; Ksandajja's 2d6+8-3=12 merch 2d6+8=11! An unlikely success enriches our heroine.

Each PC manages to spend 10gp in town.

Also, I gave everyone 50xp each for the jungle adventure, and they spent some to improve skills:

G spends 30 to increase Sneaking to level 3
I spends 20 for Bows 2
F spends 30 for Armour 3 (allows him to wear a leather hauberk, which he buys for 30gp, some of which he had to borrow -- he now owes Ksandajja 4gp, though she doesn't care enough to ever ask for it back)
K spends 20 for Second Sight 2]

At dawn on the day of departure, Grebdal Themp and his associates bid their goodbyes to the comforts of the inn, and walk through the sleepy streets to the caravanserai. They find Novoldgan already directing his subordinates as the final preparations are made.

The caravan comprises [2d6x2=] 18 camels laden with goods: exotic spices from the Baubauan jungle, grains from Ornut, rice from Ulisc, local sweetmeats, steel implements of dwarven make, bronze cookpots from Girnas, iron ones from Hmal. At least the caravaneers should eat well. There are nine more camels to bear the necessaries for the journey, use as spares, and for Novoldgan himself to ride.

There are [5d6=] 14 caravaneers in total, of which [1d6=] two are huge, taciturn warriors from the desert.

[Q: Any additional travellers? 50/50 (4+): O5 C4 - yes, but... just one
Q: Who? Helplessly / Beautiful]

There is but one 'passenger' travelling with them, a beautiful young [d6=m] bridegroom, off to marry a powerful [d6=f] merchant princess in Drammub. He is accompanied at all times by his bodyguard/duenna, a woman so sour-faced that she is rumoured to be merely a diminutive OGRE. [Should it come up, I'll use ogre for her stats, per Out of the Pit.]

DUENNA   SKILL 8   STAMINA 10

Novoldgan expects everyone to pitch in where they can, including the four new mercenaries he's just hired. Likewise, everyone is expected to defend the caravan as well as they are able. About half of the caravaneers are decent fighters, and even the young bridegroom wears a pretty little rapier on his belt.

The caravan master makes curt introductions, then sends his new employees to help with various tasks as a way to meet the rest fully. Fhenteskeer and Ilog are met with cautious acceptance; the next day's travel will prove their merit to the caravaneers. Grebdal Themp is regarded with suspicion and barely-concealed hatred. He can't think of any misstep he's committed, and reasons that perhaps they are jealous of his new and easy friendship with the boss. But when Ksandajja steps forward, they are all entranced. It is as if she'd ensorceled them with a Jewell of Gold, for they all instantly desire the friendship of the alluring sorceress.

[I'd rolled general 2d6 reaction rolls for each PC to see what the caravan folk think of them--
F: neutral
G: hostile
I: neutral
K: natural 12!

Q: Will the bridegroom take any interest in the PCs? 50/50 (4+): O1 C3 - no, but... the duenna will on day 1d6=1
Q: How many PCs? 1d4=1 PC; 1d4=Ilog
Q: Can Ksandajja find an instructor to learn the Mounted Combat special skill? 50/50 (4+): O5 C2 - yes and...

Travel Procedure: For each day of travel, there will be one daytime and one nighttime encounter check (1-2 on d6) + one event roll (1d6: 1 major, 2-3 minor, 4-6 none) + one feature roll (per the Heroes' Companion). For the sake of readability, I won't report the actual die rolls, or mention when they come up as Nothing. There'll be plenty of other game mechanics on this trip.]


Day 1

The caravan sets out into the hills east of Yagk. As they leave the river behind, the air becomes drier and the terrain less verdant. The heat is no where near as sweltering as in the jungle, but Grebdal Themp is still glad of his weather protection tattoo. He knows he'll be doubly glad when they reach the desert proper. The caravan moves at a steady pace, Novoldgan leading the way on his camel, flanked always by his foreign bodyguard, a grim and violent mound of muscle know only as 'The Zkkanj'.

The rolling hills give way to stony escarpments and gravel-strewn valleys, and the trees disappear almost entirely. Scraggly weeds cling to the rocks and sprout low in the sandy soil.

A line of cave mouths yawn on a cliff face. Several of the caravaneers invoke the names of their gods and protective genii at the sight. Perhaps their prayers are heard, for no horrors issue forth from the blackness.

Ksandajja makes the rounds of the caravan, getting to know everyone, though she does have her own purpose in mind. She's decided she needs to learn the art of mounted combat if her quest is to succeed, and the caravan seems the best place to find a teacher. And it indeed transpires that one of her admirers is happy to instruct her, just to spend time with the new favourite. Telnah is one of the camel handlers [Boldly / Rough], but [d6=] she was once a soldier stationed in Drammub's garrison.

[Ksandajja will spend 20xp to learn the special skill at level 1 by the end of the journey.

Q: Will anyone else get jealous of / unhappy with the attention? 50/50 (4+): O4 C8 - yes. After 1d8=2 days]

Telnah and the sorceress soon become inseparable, but jealous eyes are cast in their direction. And Ksandajja is not the only one whose every move is observed, and every word scrutinised, for the duenna has taken a particular interest in mighty Ilog. She watches him with cool detachment, silently planning her next move.

[Q: How does the duenna's interest in Ilog manifest? perceive / distance - spying on him

Awareness rolls at -1 to detect observation
Ilog: 7+1-1=7; 2d6=8, fail
Ksandajja: 6+2-1=7; 2d6=11, fail

Q: How long before the duenna makes a move? 1d4=2 days]

Neither barbarian nor sorceress have the barest suspicion that they are being watched.


Day 2

There is commotion in the camp as dawn breaks. Some time in the night, three spears were thrust into the earth before Novoldgan's tent, the author of this deed having eluded the sentries. The newer caravaneers are perplexed and frightened, but when Novoldgan emerges from his tent he greets the sight with a thoughtful smile, for he knows its import. He follows the line described by the row of spears off into the distance, and can just make out a forest-green tent on a far away hillock; a band of MOUNTAIN ELVES have come down from their craggy home to trade.

[Random encounter: 1d3=3 mountain elves
Q: Come to trade? likely (3+): O6 C7 - yes
Q: Can PCs pick up rumours from elves? 50/50 (4+): O2 C1 - no, and...]

Novoldgan and his lieutenant are the only ones allowed to approach the shy elves. They ride off on camels to do business as the rest are told to strike camp.

Grebdal Themp's curiosity gets the better of him. He tries to slink away from the camp and eavesdrop using a bit of minor magic he's picked up. If he can just see Novoldgan and the elves talking, his cantrip will whisk their words to him on the wind. But [Sneak roll fails] the only words he hears belong to a peevish merchant behind him.

"You there! Just where do you think you're going!"

"Er, um, just stretching my legs. I'm unused to sleeping out in the open." [Bargain (7+0) to stay out of trouble: 2d6=4, ok]

"Just you mind to stay where you're told to next time."

Novoldgan concludes his business with the elves, then the caravan sets off. The day passes without incident. A PTERODACTYL is spotted soaring overhead, but it has learnt not to fly too close to humans and their stinging arrows.

The day's only real danger befalls Ksandajja. In the course of her evening lesson, she makes a regrettable error of judgement and is knocked from her saddle. Her shoulder is sore and bruised from the impact of the blunted lance, as too her backside is bruised and sore from the impact of the hard-packed, sandy dirt. But she laughs and laughs at her own misfortune, and her admirers in the camp cannot but laugh with her. Yet there is one who feels no mirth, only burning hatred as the robust Telnah extends a hand to help the sorceress to her feet.


next post: danger in the desert