The Journey...

 
The Journey...

Farewell Lantern, you have harbored our people, feed and sheltered them for countless generations, but the time has come for us to go. The fleeting view of the old, rotted docks of Lantern Harbor was a sad sight. However, every member of the community, man, woman, or child turned away from that bleak shore with an eye towards the future and hope in their hearts.

The ships hired to transport them to the great Mwangi Expanse, Red Willow and Maiden's Dance, are huge galleys, trade ships designed for hauling tons of cargo, and the living spaces in the holds have been cramped and loud, privacy a luxury of the past. There was sickness as well, a fever along with odd red welts that swept through the settlers of both ships. Pirates demanding tax, storms trying their hardest to sink their meager fleet, it seemed the land, the sky, the sea, even the heavens themselves were pitted against the group. But the journey is coming to it's end without a single death, or even a lasting injury. The coastline of the Expanse has been in view for two full days now, dense jungle, vast grasslands covered in herds of odd horse-like and deer-like creatures, with the occasional small village of thatch huts or wooden halls.

The Council of Lantern, the four individuals elected to lead this exodus, have a large cabin to themselves on the Red Willow. Formerly a cabin designed for statesmen and traveling royalty, the room is large enough to sleep a dozen with a well stocked liquor cabinet and a large table with eight chairs where the Council has it's meals. The captain knocks politely and enters the room. He's a great keg of a man, with thin bandy legs and a bristling brickred beard shot through with grey. He's human, but could pass for a tall dwarf after a few mugs of the sweet rum that is so popular among the sailors of the two ships. 'Gentlemen, we're on the final approach. We should make Warehouse Row within an hour. We'll stay in port for two days, taking on cargo, after that we head back north. With any luck we'll have a hold full of lion pelts and chunks of turquoise' He guffaws, slapping the side of his amble belly 'I was glad to help, don't get me wrong, damn fine plan you folks have here but gen stones are more profitable and don't stink up my holds! Har!' He laughs again, no malice in his voice at all

"Hopefully these proud and beleaguered people will find a harmonious home here with nature. If they are kind to her, then she will produce her riches for them... though nature is red in tooth and claw. Perhaps Gemstones are the wiser route."

The speaker is an imposingly-tall half-orc, covered over his body in brightly-colored tattoos. He is dressed only in simple traveler's clothing (sleeveless, thanks to the comparatively sweltering heat), preferring not to wear his armor under the current conditions. You've become accustomed to the Druid's presence, though his mannerisms seem a bit too refined for the typical member of his mutt species. He's told you all many times that his childhood was spent with the elven druids of the North. His ability to purify food and drink have been invaluable on the unpredictable sea.

Prepared SpellsLevel 0: Create Water, Purify Food and Drink, Know Direction
Level 1: Entangle (Plant[decay] domain spell), Cure Light Wounds, Touch of the Sea

I've tried to make these choices based on what would be useful for a seaward journey, with limited supplies and the occasional overboard/attack.

"Basically, we'll try not to muck this place up too. Now that you mention colorful rocks, does this place export much in the way of brimstone?"

The young, squat human looked even shorter slouched in his chair. He clearly took even less of an interest in his personal appearance than most of the pirates they had dealt with, though instead of their accompanying stench he had a strong scent of saltpeter about him with a hint of rum. He wasn't particularly imposing or likeable, but a few barrels of his supplies blowing a pirate vessel apart was generally well received by the passengers and crew, and had sent the rest of the small pirate fleet running just the same. When asked he'd mentioned being around town for a decade before the journey, though you'd be hard pressed to find anyone among the travelers that remember any specifics of meeting him personally.

Adjusting his Goatee in a it of a nervous habit, the spindly limbed Scholar nods, though looks a bit disquieted by the admittance of the possibility of defeat, he also looks determined to see it not so..

He forces a smile to the Seafarer. "Thank you, Captain, It's been a long ride, but you've seen us here as safe as anyone could."

Quote:
Originally Posted by Rift View Post
"Basically, we'll try not to muck this place up too. Now that you mention colorful rocks, does this place export much in the way of brimstone?"

The young, squat human looked even shorter slouched in his chair. He clearly took even less of an interest in his personal appearance than most of the pirates they had dealt with, though instead of their accompanying stench he had a strong scent of saltpeter about him with a hint of rum. He wasn't particularly imposing or likeable, but a few barrels of his supplies blowing a pirate vessel apart was generally well received by the passengers and crew, and had sent the rest of the small pirate fleet running just the same. When asked he'd mentioned being around town for a decade before the journey, though you'd be hard pressed to find anyone among the travelers that remember any specifics of meeting him personally.
'Brimstone, eh?' The captain looks thoughtful 'Hmm, well lots of folks claim they've seen demons in the deep jungle. Could be somewhere you could find the stuff. But export, no. Opals, emeralds, turquoise, sometimes gold and silver. Some places you can find slaves or the like, I've never had any traffic with that though.' He spits, disgusted.

Quote:
Originally Posted by Atrius Night View Post
Adjusting his Goatee in a it of a nervous habit, the spindly limbed Scholar nods, though looks a bit disquieted by the admittance of the possibility of defeat, he also looks determined to see it not so..

He forces a smile to the Seafarer. "Thank you, Captain, It's been a long ride, but you've seen us here as safe as anyone could."
'Aye, lad. Like I said, glad to do it, glad to do. You're good folk and I hope to see you again. I'll have my boys take your cargo and luggage down to the docks when we get there.' He smiles broadly, opening his hands at his side in a friendly, welcoming gesture. 'Mean time, you might want to think about how you're going to go about this thing. Folks of Bloodcove are money hungry scavengers, they'll bleed you for every coin if they can. Watch who you deal with and don't agree to anything in writing. Shake a man's hand, look him in the eye, you've got a sound deal. Documents are for suckers' he chuckles

Their own document, forty pages thick and so complicated it required the services of a Lawyer Devil to decipher, lies carefully folded in a soft linen sleeve, inside a secure wooden box built specifically for the occasion. On it are detailed directions to the area known as Fenton's Rest, a ten mile square area split in half by the massive Milk River.

'...this document grants the holder rights of settlement, agriculture, and mining within the area of Fenton's Rest as well as right to all temples, dungeons, or ancient civilizations therein...' Signed, Errol the Marquis de Roost, Chief Land Marketer, Corvid Consortium, the Free City-State of Vindrian.

The council is also responsible for the last of the expiditionary funds, one thousand, two hundred, and seventy eight gold pieces in a large, sturdy wooden chest, triple locked and trapped against theft.

Aartam, the Half-Orc man of the wild, nods in understanding. "And what of the business opportunities in this region? You are familiar with the area, and I am sparse of coin. Is there anyone you know who could give work to us... People of many talents?" He mulls over the words, still getting used to the dialect of these peoples.

Beyond dangers of Bloodcove, what can you tell us of the dangers of our new home? Are there any natural dangers we need to worry about?

The speaker was a dwarf named Grunyar. While most of the other's were wearing lighter clothing due to the sweltering heat of the southern seas, Grunyar stubbornly continued to wear his Scale Mail armor using his Endure Elements spell to keep himself cool. He was completely bald and his coal-black beard reached down just past his chest.

The Scholarly human stood back, listening and watching.

Thoughful, and taking mental notes as he considered the prospects ahead...




 

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