[In Character] Caravan to Ravengro (Pregame IC)

[English]

As the sun rises in the city of Lastwall, it is clear that the day is going to be long and hot. The market district is bustling already with the morning business rush. Merchants from all over are hard at work hawking their wares and haggling on purchases. As you walk through the town to the caravan district you are met with the smell of horses and the sounds of a caravan camp coming to life in the dawn glory. As you walk over to where you have been told the caravan to Ravengro is located, a gruff old caravan driver greets you as you walk up to his table. "Caravan for Ravengro, we leave by noon." You all quickly pay him the fee agreed upon and get into one of the wagons. After a couple of hours of waiting around, the caravan driver gives off a shout and the wagons lurch forward. The journey to pay respects to your deceased friend and mentor, has begun.​

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[OOC] You will be traveling for a couple days to get to Ravengro. This will allow you to flush out your character and get in the spirit of PbP. Obviously you have not yet created your characters, it is just assumed that once they are approved that they were on the caravan the whole time.​

If you have any OOC questions, please ask them in the OOC thread as this is meant for IC conversation.​

 

[Statboy]

Tyrion has changed into his Explorer's outfit and has his crossbow sitting on top of his backpack for quick access if need be. Pod is driving Tyrion's wagon while Tyrion sits with his feet hanging out the back a cup of Ale in his hand. Spying a rather large man (Beornmar) in the caravan he shouts to him "Come join me, for a mug of ale". He quickly performs a sense motive check to see how he can get Beornmar to be his bodyguard temporarily, at least until he regular bodyguard returns (around level 7 or so).

Takes 10 on the Sense Motive check for a 16

 

[theLumberJack]

Beornmar saunters over to the, (Is that a child offering me ale?) When he covers about half the distance, he waves to another man to follow him [OOC his lawyer]. Once close enough to see that it is not a child offering him ale, he jovially replies "Certainly! Who do I have the pleasure of sharing a drink with, this fine morning?" When looking upon Beornmar, you see a tall rugged looking man. He has the hands, and the muscles of a working man. His clothing clearly those of an artisan. He carries a full backpack, equipment befitting a long journey strapped to it. Upon his belt, a pouch and two short wooden sticks. He walks towards the cart in an open, and relaxed manner.

 

[Hexalan]

Amberly, having a few minutes to spare before they sets off, slowly ambles back toward the row of wagons, mule in tow. As the caravan-master failed to actually assign her one, she looks at the mostly old, mostly rickety hunks of lumber on wheels before selecting one, near the middle of the group, bordered on one side by an unusually short man with an unusually well-maintained wagon, and on the other by what seemed to be a cart stuffed full of rutabagas. "Over here, Gunther." As her friend finished his inspection of the horizon, and plods over, she slips her mule a carrot, and with his help, lifts the heavy saddlebags off and into the wagon while its busy munching.

"Seen anything?" asks the diminutive, slightly smelly man.

"Those people over there seem like they might be interesting." Amberly responds, gesturing vaguely at the little man who had resolutely begun his quest to become drunk before the caravan departed. Gunther, aware that he did not cut the most pleasant figure, listened to their exchange without approaching too closely. The inquisitrix, clad in full battle leathers rather than traveling fineries for this leg of the travel, glared at some nearby travelers, one hand just happening to brush back her tailored cloak and resting on the hilt of one of the several long knives strapped to the top of her thigh, as if daring them to try and come close to steal something without her noticing.

The stocky slayer, on the other hand, merely stood and observed, watching the other travelers and smelling the air. He takes a small swig of whiskey to fortify himself for the journey, and hands the flask back to Amberly with a muttered "cheers", and returns to his solemn watch.
Survival for weather forecasting: take 10 for 19 because i can't be bothered to figure out why diceroller is broken
Sense Motive, to ascertain the mood of the peculiar fellows he's watching: same, 14

 

[Statboy]

"I am Tyrion of house Lannister" pours some ale for Beornmar "We appear to be traveling in the same direction, perhaps you would like to ride in my wagon rather than walk. As you can see I lack for muscle, and if we should be accosted by brigands or the like, I've found it pays to have some strength close at hand. There is always plenty of ale and wine for those who are my friends."

 

[theLumberJack]

Taking the ale, "A pleasure Tyrion! I am Beornmar of House Yourner! It would be my pleasure to ride with you. Of course, as long as their is room for my lawyer Reginald. I doubt we should be accosted on the way to Ravengro. The caravan such as it is. It would certainly make our trip all the more mournful."

 

[Statboy]

"Why don't we let Reginald ride up front with Pod. The view of the backside of a horse should be familiar to a lawyer, it's what they see when they look in the mirror every morning."

 

[theLumberJack]

With a roaring laugh, Beornmar motions for him to ride up front. "Then you've secured yourself the protection of a singular carpenter! Any bandits will be sure to have a good coffin."

 

[English]

Spoiler: Gruff Old Man (Large Image)

The Caravan Driver (picture above) gives out a loud whistle and the caravan begins to lurch forward. Now begins the journey to Ravengro. "Be there in a couple days!" He shouts to the 5 vehicle caravan. The caravan kicks up what little dust is on the roads after the recent rains. It has been rather gloomy and dismally wet weather as of late. The weather perfectly coincides with the somber event that draws you all to Ravengro. Only two more days until you can finally lay the Professor to rest and be on your way back to your usual lives...

 

[theLumberJack]

"Well Tyrion, what's taking you to Ravengro?" Beornmar asks, just after taking a swig of the ale.

 

[Statboy]

"I am attending the funeral of an old friend, Professor Petros Lorrimor. A man I once helped, who said he'd never forget my kindness to him, and now I am named in his will." Tyrion lifts his mug in salute. "How about you, are you hoping to set up a carpentry shop in Ravengro?"

 

[theLumberJack]

"No not in Ravengro. I owe the professor for my families mill. If there's anyway for me to repay that debt, then in his memory I will. To Professor Lorrimor!" Beornmar says, raising his mug as well.