"Session" 1 - Arrival

Vicelen 1st, 381 IY, 10:00am.
Cloudy, Lightly Snowing, 33° F./1°C.
Light Breeze (W).

Andrastem


The rising morning sun greets your eyes harshly as you crest a small hill with the caravan of merchants, mercenaries and mendicants you've been travelling with for the last week. It is about nine-o'clock in the morning, and already you've been travelling about two hours in the cold. But the winter's here in Southern Argollë are not harsh, and while unpleasant, travel is still possible.

As your eyes adjust you see the silhouette of the Auran Fort of Andrastem, "Fort Victory", taking shape about a league ahead of you. Another hour and you'll be at its walls. From there the caravan will split, some staying at the fort to distribute supplies, repair their wagons, and prepare for a return home, others will be going north to other Forts along the much vaunted Unbroken Line of the Auran border fortresses, while yet others will be heading East toward Samos, Cyfaraun, and yet other settlments, forts, and castles in the borderlands.

From here on out, you are more or less on your own, your paid contract for passage under the caravan's protection and guidance is fulfilled. As the sun reaches the ten-o'clock point of the sky, the Caravan approaches the gate and is challenged by the guard.

"Halt! State your names and business at Andrastem!" shouts the legionary from the wall.

"I am Enerkos, of Krysea, and this is a caravan brought under my protection. I am known to your Legate. We request permission to enter or remain in the vicinity for a short time." shouts the tanned, portly merchant that organized this caravan.

The legionary responds, "You are known, Enerkos, and your servants, but any we don't recognize will be required to declare themselves at the gate. You may enter." The gates to the fort open, and the Caravan begins the process of shuffling through into the small courtyard to do business with the soldiers and servants therein. As you come to the gates a pair of legionaries in full armor take names while a pair of scribes write descriptions. In Aura, all is recorded.

"Halt, stranger, you are not known to us. State your name and purpose."

What do you do?

"Harper, Elf. Tan with black hair. Physicker. Come seeking employment," the legionary stated curtly to the Annalist scribbling on a scroll. The Annalist mumbled the same words back as he wrote each word. When finished he looks up at Harper and states plainly without enthusiasm and with a forced smile of feigned friendliness, "So Recorded. You may enter, but keep to the common areas near the barracks and be out by sunset. Next!" The legionary steps aside to let Harper through, and the annalist waves him in.

The legionary ignores Alexander's ramblings about egrets and just lets him continue rambling while he recounts the description to the Annalist. Alexander Choici, human, pale skin, dark hair, bookish. Scholar. Aff..." the legionary stops hismelf, realizing he didn't hear Alexander say if he was a college wizard or not, and then interrupts Alexander's ramblings, "are you affiliated with the College of Wizards, and will you be visiting their Tower of Knowledge in Cyfaraun?"

"Eh, alright. Whatever," the legionary responds somewhat indifferently and doesn't feel motivated to inquire further. He says to the Annalist "Wandering Mage. Travelling to the Tower."

The annalist waves Alexander through the gates, totally indifferent, "Welcome to Andrastem. Mind yourself, keep to the common areas and be out by sundown. NEXT!"The Fort is cramped, with nearly a dozen large buildings crammed into a five acre plot. The walls are ten feet thick and just as high, the battlements outside made them look taller. There are narrow alleys, just wide enough for two armored men to squeeze through shoulder to shoulder, and a few wider paths between the clusters of barracks, the praetorium and the hospital, wide enough for about three or four armored horse abreast. The corners of the fort are marked by twenty foot tall towers.

There are quite a few people about, but only a dozen or so legionaries in armor. The rest of the people seem to be either legionaries off-duty or members of your caravan trying to do business with them. Near the Praetorium, the largest building, in the center of the fort, a man in bright clothing with a chain of office about his next is speaking with a man wearing the breastplate and uniform of a Legion officer and a woman wearing the clerical robes of an Auran priestess, with a thick fur shawl wrapped around her shoulders against the cold. Overall, however, the fort seems to be far more empty than it should be.

"Jobyn, Elf, dark hair, servant of eh... the last guy." The Annalist once again mumbles the words as he writes them, and the legionary steps aside to let Jobyn through. The Annalist gives Jobyn the same practice line, "Head on it, keep to the common areas, out by sundown."

"What? Oh." The legionary snaps out of his usual mechanical execution of his duties, and answers politely "You're fine to stay in the town, but not in the fort itself. The town is out the North gate, about a hundred yards. We just require all new arrivals to the Exarchate to register here first. Especially in these troubled times. By Iskara's scales, I even heard talk of fire-demons showin' up in Lake Laman. You best keep a sharp eye out these days." He turns back to his duties.

While you are conversing with each other:

The man in the officer's uniform calls up two of the rank and file legionaries, and sends them into the central building. He turns to the priestess and the man in bright robes and shakes his head saying something, which they both seem to disregard with a handwaves and sneers.

A man in the legion's tunic, but without armor is looking over a load of weapons from one of the merchants' carts, inspecting them and haggling with the merchant. The restless horses bridled to the cart shift their feet around and whinny and bray against the cold and boredom.

An old man wrapped in a heavy cloak haggles with another member of your caravan over the cost of delivering several missives and letters to various places on his route.