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Turn 56.0: Approaching the Camp

Posted: 9/16/99

Rinder's Six, following Dire Luthor's directions west toward a camp of Caerloon soldiers, meets up with an elderly cleric of Lentyr on the road.

Edryd moves to speak to the old man, a kindly look on his face, but with a slight unease in his heart. What is this old man doing on these roads alone during a time of war? He reaches into his purse with his off-hand to retrieve a coin, and, as he does so, opens his spirit to Anhur to see if there is any sense of evil about this old man. Edryd senses no evil in this old cleric, so he smiles and hands the man 2 gold pieces, asking, "Where are you off to, old one? These are dangerous times to be traveling the southern roads."

Accepting the two gold pieces with a tentative smile, the old man replies. "Southern roads, you say? You may be lost, kind fellow, these here are the northern roads of Faren. I myself am heading to the city of Faren on this cold...cold..." he lets out a shiver, visible on his thin body, "...cold day. And dangerous times, you say? Aye, these here've been dangerous times as long as I...since I was just a boy..."

Hannibals jaw nearly hits the floor at the sight of Edyrd's contribution to the old man. "Two gold pieces!" he exclaims to himself, nearly falling out of his saddle in the process. He could feed himself for weeks on that much. Grinning to himself, Hannibal leans back a bit. It's a good thing he joined Rinder's six, someday too he would be wealthy like Edyrd.

"It's nice to meet someone from Faren, Wise One," Emma calls out, nudging her horse around to the side so she can see the traveler better, "We've gotten a bit off course from our own travels, I'm afraid. You say you're a follower of Lentyr? Isn't that the Sun God of Caerloon?"

Emma's points to the symbol upon her tabard, depicting Anhur's Scales over the bright yellow sun of Nire, and says, "Although I'm from Rinder, you and I have at least one small thing in common." She also reaches into her own pouch and takes forth a silver-piece to give to the man. "And perhaps one other thing as well," she finishes telling him, "A kind heart to those in need. I would add my own alms to a fellow-priest in these hard times. Perhaps in return you could tell us more of the road ahead and what we can expect in Faren? Also, I'm something of a historian in my land, and although I've heard of Lentyr, I'm afraid I don't know much about him..."

Inwardly, she hopes the cleric isn't offended by the smaller amount of alms that she gives to him. Unfortunately, her finances were quite depleted when she bought her broadsword back in Parton. But it was the motive behind a gift that mattered, not its inherit value, she told herself.

Cy, still working battle tactics in his head, looks down to the old cleric, "Here good priest. Take this to ease your travels. If it fits your grace, a prayer for the warriors of Rinder as well." Cy gives the Priest a small purse.

Emma smiles proudly at Cy's additional response to the old priest's request for alms. Soon the poor man would be loaded down with more generosity than he could carry. Even so, he looked like he needed the assistance...and Emma was confident that he would use the wealth wisely, and not only for himself...but also for those that suffered within Faren and Caerloon as well.

What impressed her the most, however, was the ease with which Rinder's Six was able to respond to someone in need. And it hadn't just been Edryd and herself, but Cy as well. That, in and of itself, seemed to indicate to her that Rinder's Six truly did have the makings of heroes. And she was happy to be among them...

She looks again at the shivering man, noting the dirty brown robe that he wears. The weather had been particularly chilling lately and winter probably wasn't far away. If only she had an extra coat or cloak that she could him give as well...

"Do you travel far?" Emma finally asked the old man, "Perhaps you should use some of our alms to buy yourself some warmer clothing? After all, you won't be able to help others in need if your own situation is just as bad or worse." She smiled politely while her horse pawed at the ground.

Hannibal curses under his breath as he watches his companions shovel a poor man's fortune at the old man. "Ah to be rich," he mutters to Storm as he waits for his Dwarven companion to either offer up a coin himself or just burp.

Deciding that he could not travel with this group if they felt him to be uncompassionate, he sidesteps his horse around the others and alongside the old man. Digging into his pack, he retrieves his sleeping blanket. It was a blanket that, although not much for appearance, had kept him warm through the hard nights that he had spent in the town stables as he had not had the money to stay at the inn.

"Here old man, keep warm with this," he grumbles as he hands the blanket to the old man. Thinking a bit more, he then offers his hand to the old cleric. "If you are heading in our direction, you are welcome to ride behind me. If you are heading the other way, you will need more than just that blanket to be safe."

Storm doesn't really know what to think, not feeling the need to donate any of his belongings to the man. Who was this guy, anyway? Storm has no reason to trust him, so he sits awkwardly atop his horse, bothered by the stretch he must make to ride the animal, and watches from the back of the party.

As money is handed to the Cleric, Hannibal leans over to Storm "Ah, to be rich..." he muses. Storm chuckles an agreement and spits the opposite way to the ground. "Aye, me be wondering if he (Edryd) thinks his pouch be bottomless!" He says so just Hannibal can hear. He then begins fidgeting and looking off in other directions, waiting for the party to be on it's way.

Crayne merely watches from the top of his horse as the rest of the party indulges in ridding their coinage and blankets to this old man. Giving a sideways glance towards Storm who looks as confused as he does, he speaks up:

"Come I think this gentleman is satisfied with what we have given him. I would say a lucky day if I was in his shoes. I suggest we move on and let Dire lead us where he will."

The cleric seems not to hear Crayne's gentle insisting on moving on. "Thank you, thank you very much, your kind souls. Lentyr and his people will not forget this." He takes Hannibal's blanket and wraps it around him, over his shoulders, letting part of it hang down behind him over his dirty robe. "You say you are traveling this way? Faren is at least another day's travel off, I'd say. I'm slowly getting there myself, but for old Bessie, here," he pats his mule with a smile.

He turns to look up at Emma, smiling as best he can. "You say you don't know much of Lentyr, now? Ahh...not many do, I'm afraid. Why, I remember the days..." he must stop to cough hard, "...the days back when I was a boy, when Lentyr was the patron god of all the realm! Those were glorious days. But the gods have not been kind to me, nor to my people. There are few of us left. I would not have even told you of my faith in him, had I not seen the symbols on your emblems. My people are not always popular with the men from Cahren nowadays..." He leans on his mule for support.

Then turning to Hannibal, "Thank you kindly for the blanket...this is just what I need. And how honorable for a fellow to give up his own bedroll for another. But no, after all this I cannot accept your offer of a ride. Bessie and I will make our way together. I don't know very much of the dangers you speak about, but I have my faith that Lentyr will protect me...I hope..."

Canter reaches into his pocket, pulling out a gold coin. "Then take one more thing, good man, from one wandering man to another. To ease your journey." He hands the coin to the cleric, who receives it with a smile.

"If ever you need a shelter for a night, do come to the Temple of Lentyr in Faren...it's not what it used to be...it's not much of anything anymore...but it will keep you warm and out of the storm, if need be."

"Thank you, kind sir," Edryd says with a smile and a nod, turning his mount around, "We will not forget your offer."

Crayne nods at the cleric, "Good luck my friend! I suggest you move on hastily for these roads are dangerous especially when travelling alone."

With that, the party continues along the road westward. Soon, Storm dismounts, complaining about his aching legs. Hannibal looks down at his dwarven friend with a smile. "Those animals not made for your kind, eh?"

"Arr...." Storm growls back, rubbing his calf muscles. He continues to follow the group on foot, leading his horse.

As the day wears on, Edryd speaks to Emma from atop his horse. "Emma, tell me...in your studies, have you learned much of other gods, like this 'Lentyr?' I know little of him, and am quite curious..."

Emma smiles at the question, knowing it invites a lengthy academic answer. "Well, I have spent years of my life in the temple library, yes. Perhaps too many? But they have instilled me with some knowledge. I don't know much about Lentyr, I'll tell you. Not much at all. In fact, I'm rather surprised and taken aback by the state of his church...or at least the bleak picture he painted...

"What I do know," she says, tilting her head slightly and thinking, "is that Lentyr is definitely a Sun god. Perhaps a god of the land and agriculture, too. Sort of like Geb in the Kingdom of Rinder. Though I don't know whether followers of Lentyr hold feast days quite like the Gebbites!"

"I suspect few can hold a feast like the Gebbites!" Edryd says with a laugh. Then a sigh, as he rubs his stomach. "Speaking of feasts..."

Crayne then rides his horse up to Edryd and Emma. "When do you two think we'll stop for dinner? I'm starving!"

Edryd smiles to Emma, who returns the look. Crayne sees this, glancing back and forth between them. "What? What is it? Did I say something?" He asks.

Both Edryd and Emma shake their heads, smiling. "No, Crayne," Edryd says, "let us just say that great minds really do think alike..."

"Well thank you....I guess...." Crayne says, confusedly turning back to the others. "Yeah, they're hungry too!" He calls to Cy and Storm, still shaking his head.

The party stops for the night just before sundown, making camp a few hundred yards from the road. A small fire is lit, and Canter and Cy head out to hunt for some game. About an hour later, bow slung over their shoulders, they return with a large deer. Storm licks his lips and smiles, eagerly helping to prepare the animal for roasting over the fire. Canteens and waterskins are refilled at a small stream nearby, and bedrolls are unrolled on the ground.

"You say," Dire begins, addressing Emma through a mouthful of meat, "that you are indeed a historian, yes? Mmm? I would say I'm a bit of a collector of historical stories myself. We must share some anecdotes sometime...pool our resources, hmm?"

Emma looks up from her dinner with a smile. "Certainly. I'd love to hear what you know."

"Well, I can tell you this right now. From my studies, I have learned that this area through which we pass, heading toward Faren, has not always been the Kingdom of Caerloon. I'm not exactly sure when it became part of the greater Caerloon, but something that old priest said today made me think of it...just something to dwell on..."

Cy finishes his meat, tossing the bones away. "I'll be back in an hour or two..." he says to the group. He then turns and walks out into the darkness, patting the horses on his way.

"Where's he off to?" Canter asks, taking a sip of water.

"You got me there..." Hannibal replies, watching the mercenary disappear into the darkness.

After dinner each tends to his or her own items and issues. Blades are sharpened, armor is mended. Edryd removes his heavy chain mail and with a sigh of relief rests it on the ground. Canter does the same with his chain mail, inspecting the padding underneath. "This is beginning to wear..." he murmurs under his breath. Soon, not surprisingly, Storm is asleep, his loud snoring annoying the rest of the group.

Footsteps are then heard approaching the party. Hannibal is first to hear them. He pokes Edryd, who grabs for his longsword and shield. "Who goes there!" He calls out into the night.

Then a long wooden shaft appears to enter the firelight, followed by Cy. Everyone breathes a sigh of relief. "Just me..." Cy says with a slight laugh.

"What were you doing out there?" Crayne asks, looking up from his studies by the fire.

"Nothing too exciting. No skeletons to fight, enemy lines to charge. Just this." He holds out the wooden pole. "A walking stick."

Emma chuckles and shakes her head. "You boys are too much...good night, gentlemen."

 

In the morning, breakfast is quickly eaten and camp is broken. The horses are all mounted and the journey continued. It is a cloudy, misty day. The gray sky above lends the land a flat, colorless look.

About an hour before noon, Cy stops the group. "There...in the distance, do you see it?"

"Yes..." Edryd says, squinting his eyes. "Tents."

"Ahh, yes, see?" Dire says. "Now that is what I am talking about. Right into the heart of the beast. The Caerloon army. Shall we?"

"Shall we?!" Canter squirms. Storm spits (away from Hannibal) in agreement with the concern evident in Canter's voice. "What are we going to do, just ride right in there an announce ourselves?"

Crayne nods to Canter. "A good point. We're going to have to be clever about how we do this. And no offense to you or your god, Edryd and Emma. But didn't that Ben fellow we ran into -- or ran through, I should say! -- outside Parton curse Anhur, if I recall? Perhaps it would be best if you not advertise your faith in a god who is so unpopular in these parts?"

"Crayne may be right," Hannibal says, "we're their enemy because our Kingdoms are at war. Let's not give them another reason. We may survive the odds, but I don't want to pick a fight with the entire Caerloon army!" Hannibal chuckles at the absurdity of the idea.

"Very well," Edryd says, "but that doesn't resolve the main issue here. How are we going to get around inside that camp without giving ourselves away? And once inside, what's the plan?"

"The plan should be, I suggest," Dire says, raising a finger, "to head straight to the commander's tent. Perhaps there we will find the proof I -- we -- need. How you get there is up to you..."


1. Edryd gave 2 gp to the cleric; Cy gave the "small purse"; Hannibal the blanket; Canter 1 gp; and Emma 1 sp. Please adjust your records accordingly.

2. Okay, so what's the plan? a) How will you get in and around without getting discovered? and b) Will you head for the commander's tent and peek around? Where else would you go?

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