The Caravan

One of the humans, a large man in robes, clutching a large bag of pastries speaks up.

"Father Belathor Smythe," he smiles broadly, "Wonderful to be here Mr. Mork. I'm headed to Lambor's Hold. Just my backpack and I'll keep that with me."

The man is cleanly shaven but has large grey sideburns and a little hair round the back of his head. A golden sun symbol hangs around his neck. On his back, over his pack is a round shield with the same symbol.

"Oh, hey, me too!" Tassarien chirped, turning to smile brightly at the grey-haired cleric. "What're the odds, huh?" she commented to Father Belathor Smythe. Seeming legitimately pleased by the coincidence, she was still beaming a bit when she turned to answer Mork.


"I'm Taz! And can I just say again how happy I am that you don't mind me tagging along with your group? If there's anything I can do to help out until we reach Lambor's Hold, lemme know, okay?" Distracted by the excitement that came from drawing near to the moment of departure, it took her a belated second to realize she hadn't answered the second half of his question.

"Oh! And no, no cart. Just me." Bright smile.

Auras looked exhausted and little angry, as she had just finished the worst breakfasts she had ever had. it could barely be called food.


"great start to my morning first breakfast now being forced to play 20 questions." she grumbled before saying "oh give me that you'll misspell my name anyway." she wrote her name in common as Auras and lambor's hold as he destination Before handing the parchment back to mork. "sorry, I'm a little cranky this morning."

auras had pure white eyes and was dressed in studded leather armor which seemed not to fit her properly and was walking with a stick that wrapped in red cloth and dyed fur and other bits of luck and knowledge when she heard mention of lambor's hold "your heading there too? Fascinating. no cart here, obviously," her hair was in a messy ponytail and she looked both bored and curious at the same time.

Narissa smiled as she watched the caravan master interact with the others. The elf girl was endlessly cheerful which may or may not become grating, the voluminous human man would doubtlessly end up hitching a ride on a wagon sooner or later and the dead eyed human was very clearly not a morning person. All that remained was herself and the dragonkin starting out his morning with a pint or three in the pub. She straightened her hair carefully pulling it into place so the the transition between forehead and horn was concealed as best as possible, a lot of people found that part unnerving and tended to stare.

"Nar Andariel," she said around a mouthful of oversized canines and sharp teeth. "Andariel." There was a subtle accent to her speech that was difficult to place.

"Nar Andariel Andariel?" Mork inquires raising an eyebrow. "Is that like Mork, son of Mork?"

"No, I’m sorry, it’s just Andariel." Narissa said replied shaking her head. "Haven’t spoken common in a while." She didn’t know why but the name that had been rolling about in her brain since the halflings had found her in the forest felt safer than the one they’d given her.

She was of an average height for a tiefling, with pale blue skin, black hair and dark crimson eyes. Her clothing was mostly blacks and reds, open at the shoulders and neck with a large crimson stone mounted in a wide choker that encircled her neck. She wore crimson leggings and black boots beneath a black faux skirt that reached almost to the ground. Her spaded tail reached down past her knees and swished back and forth of it’s own accord.

"Ah well, well met then Andariel." Mork said with a smile.

Narissa smiled showing off her fangs and other sharp teeth.

Taz watched with interest as the others introduced themselves, her brows lifting a bit higher in surprise when Auras commented on also heading towards Lambor's Hold. One person heading to the same small, obscure little town was a coincidence. More than one person heading there at the same time, starting from the same spot, on the same day? That smacked of destiny, to Taz. Excitement bubbled nervously through her, but it was quite early in the day still, and she'd learned by now that her natural exuberance could be poorly received if left unchecked before others were fully awake and caffeinated. She restrained herself and merely smiled, biting her lip to keep her mouth from running away from her.

This is a great story in the making, I can feel it, she thought to herself, watching as Mort finished up his questions.

"Anyone want a cookie? I have extra and they're pretty good," she offered, pulling out the small paper sack she'd gotten from the bakery. She tried to not single anyone out, but she made a point of offering one to the white-eyed human who'd commented on an unsatisfactory breakfast.

"Lambor's Hold is kind of a small place, from what I hear. I have to deliver a package to someone there. I'm dying to know what's taking the rest of you that way," she said, looking from Belathor to Auras to Narissa.

Auras noticed the cleric's holy symbol of latha something or other. Auras then noticed the tiefling and the dragon born interesting companions for the road ahead. Seeing the half elf offer her a cookie auras shrugged "it has to be better then breakfast. the bar not that high if it set it at all." Auras nibble on the cookie "hopefully we can get to know each other more on the road. Since we are all heading to the same place.

Narissa takes the offered cooking and examines it carefully sniffing it for a moment before breaking a piece off and putting it in her mouth. She chews it awkwardly before swallowing and smiling at Taz, a mouthful of sharp teeth beneath a pair of featureless red eyes. "Thank you." she says trying her best not to expose her fangs as she talks.

She watches Auras bite a piece off the cookie and tries the same. The soft cookie gets stuck between her teeth and she's forced to tear it apart with her hands. Her fangs were definitely not meant for eating this kind of food but it tasted good all the same, her tongue darted between her teeth cleaning the offending bits of cooking from them.

"A package? Are you a cour, a couri," Narissa's brain fumbles trying to find the word, she knew it she'd heard it before, "a delivery girl then?" She smiled again exposing her fangs, Humans like people who smile, She thought, it's a sign of trust among them. A long nearly prehensile serpent tongue came out between the fangs wrapping itself around the largest tooth on the right side before disappearing and doing the same on the other side. Clearly she was still cleaning cookie residue from them.

"Lambor's Hold?" She blinked looking at the priest, the human with the dead eyes and the half elf, "What do you know of it? Do you suppose they have things to fix?"

Belethor looks from his now half-empty bag of pastries to the bag being offered by Taz and back to his own, "Umm, we're sharing then?" he seems unsure, then reaches out to offer his bag to the girl. He avoids looking at the others and shuffles from foot to foot.

"I hope so," Taz replied to Auras, quietly gratified when the grumpy noble accepted a cookie. In Taz's experience, there weren't many situations that couldn't be improved at least a smidge by a bit of dessert. "I didn't catch your name, though. What do you like to be called?"

Narissa's thanks won an answering smile from the bard, who nodded her acceptance. The question about her occupation seemed to catch her off guard, but the brief surprise was quickly replaced by another smile. "Oh! No, not really. I mean--I guess I am, sort of at the moment, but not all the time. Just for this one trip. No, I'm a storyteller and a singer! I am just... I, uhm..." Narissa was licking her teeth--no, her fangs, and for a second it was distracting enough to slow Taz's speech. Narissa wasn't the first tiefling Taz had met, but she hadn't met enough of them yet that they weren't still fascinating to watch. Narissa's follow-up question seemed to snap Taz back to topic, though.

"Oh, I dunno anything at all about it, except that it's small," she confessed, with an animated shrug. "At least it sounds small. I've never been before."

Belethor's comment, and his apparent hesitance about sharing his pastries caused Taz to chuckle merrily.

"Only if you want to! I just had some extra cookies, and nothing breaks the ice like a little sugar, right?" She thanked him but declined to take a pastry, leaving him the sweets he seemed uncertain about relinquishing.

"What about you, Father Belethor?" she prompted him. "What's taking you to Lambor's Hold?"

Arphaxad was almost finished with his fourth tankard of ale and was about to ask the Innkeeper the recipe for the muffins, (There's definitely cinnamon in it) when he overheard someone saying the word ''Lambor''. Noticing that it sounds like the name of the village he was bound for, his curiosity perked up and decided to see who have spoken that place. His eyes alighted upon a motley group of people gathered around a table. He allowed himself a small chuckle noting the variety of races that was gathered there:

Two Humans, one who looks elderly and has a strange symbol around his neck (maybe some kind of priest)the other one looks like she has seen death twice over and was about to experience a third one, (something feels not right with tha' one) an elf which he almost mistook for another human if it weren't for the subtly pointed ears (The lass is practically buzzing with energy) and a Teethling or tefling (curses, should have listened more to da's lessons...) who looks to be some kind of magic-user by the robes.

The last one made the comment about the village whose full name was Lambor's Hold after the aged half-orc caravan master reconfirmed their destinations. All four nodded their affirmation.

Wait a moment...four people, nay five going to the same place at once?

Doubtless, there are a lot of people going the same way as they were but almost all of the merchants, families and others were going through to the capital or far off into the lands closest to the coast. But not in Lambor's Hold. Intrigued with this discovery, he took another pull from his tankard and decided to introduce himself to the others. He sidled to the caravan master and noted the strange fellows that would be his companions in the upcoming journey.

Strange. you're the one to talk he chided himself. standing at almost seven feet tall, a typical size for his Dragonborn ancestry he already looks intimidating even without the scars adorning his body from his neck, to a single line running down from his left eye.The scars are mementos from his time with his father and the militia when they were ''goblin bashing'' around the clan hold's territories culling the burgeoning population of the evil vermin that constantly threaten their home. His thick arms and legs were bulging with muscle developed from the countless hours fighting with the goblins or helping out around the hold whether it be hauling metal ingots for the smiths to use or carrying huge pots filled with food while helping out in the kitchens as he is oft to do. All that topped with a pot belly that will make any respectable dwarf approve shaped by his love for strong spirits and good food. Finally, the dragonborn has a tuft of coarse grey hair on his scaled chin that looks like errant weeds trying to find purchase on a barren hill. A testament to his myriad attempts to grow a beard like his dwarven compatriots.

''I hear you might all be travelling to Lambor's Hold. Well guess what? I'm bound for that way meself!''

''The name's Arphaxad. it means dragonbeard in dwarvish. of clan Blackstone of the blackstone mountains just south o' here. My da's name is...''

The dragonborn then proceeded to name the genealogies of clan Blackstone for almost half an hour before the half orc beside him cleared his throat loudly for him to hear. He was starting to bore the whole group and they were evidently now talking to themselves rather than listen to his droning. ''Ye talk too much lad...I'm worried you might kill people by talking them to death before you can wield your axe...'' He remembered his stepfather telling him.

visibly embarrassed with himself, Arphaxad quickly bowed down and said ''Apologies to everyone...I am at your service...''

A feeling of wetness spread out from his leather breeches to his foot. Perplexed, he finally looked down to see that he have inadvertently spilled his ale on himself while doing his dramatic bow. looking at the now empty tankard at his left hand, he silently cursed himself for his rare clumsiness. ''Ach...bugger me...I'll be back for a wee bit...'', he said moving off to a secluded place to change to something dry.

"Herbs, for healing. My sponsor has asked me to visit and offer any help they may need. I have a talent for healing," replies Belathor to Taz, now holding the bag to his sizeable belly with his forearm, allowing him to hold a cookie in one hand and a pastry in the other, taking bites from each alternately.

When the Dragonkin comes over Belethor's eyes go wide and he can't help but stare as the creature reels off name after name.

"I'm auras." She replied as she finished her cookie. "I'm heading to lambors hold for my own personal reasons but I'm hoping that the food will be better than here. Breakfast here was a horrible disappointment."

"Oh, wonderful!" Taz chirped, trying to distill some encouragement in her tone while responding to Belathor. To Taz's eyes, he seemed the nervous sort, or perhaps just a little uncertain. "You know, I've always wanted to learn how to brew things with herbs. Maybe you can teach me a thing or two, while we're traveling?" But she wouldn't press the matter if the cleric demurred, and would just as happily switch her focus to Auras when the warlock responded.

"Was it? I'm sorry, what a sad thing," she said, the effervescent smile dropping at last as she considered the notion of a ruined breakfast. Her own had been perfectly fine, but she imagined Auras must have suffered a stroke of bad luck with hers. "Another cookie?" she offered, with a shrug and a little grin, trying to lead Auras towards making light of the situation.

When Arphaxad approached, all of Taz's attention and focus swung wholly to him. Her lips parted, and her eyes widened, and without thinking, she reached out and briefly grabbed the forearm of the person standing next to her without so much as looking to see which traveler it was. It was a gesture of excitement and restraint, as Taz had never met a dragonborn before, and was thrilled to finally do so. Thrilled enough, in fact, that she lasted a good several minutes into his introduction before her smile started to falter and confusion began to replace the glee in her features.

"Well, wait--" she started to say, as the fellow excused himself and moved away again. She stammered for another second or two, not wanting to follow the man when he was clearly going to see about changing clothes, but neither wanting him to feel bad about his introduction. She talked herself into staying put, and she turned to look towards the others with a mildly concerned air.

"I hope he comes back," she said. A bit of her smile returned, slowly, then in full. "I've never met a dragonborn before. This is going to be a good trip. I can tell!"

She gave a wave to Mork when he excused himself, and she let her eyes pass over the rest of the travelers who looked to be heading out to the coast. The guards Mork had hired looked competent to Taz's eyes, and she wondered if he was being paranoid in his desire for more protection, or if the road was going to be a more dangerous one than it seemed.

Taking one last cookie out of her sack, she tucked it between her lips to hold it, then rolled the bag closed and stored it in her pack.

Something moves beneath Narissa's cloak and her spade tipped tail comes out wrapped around a the straps of a shoulder bag that's about the size of both of her fists. "I have meat if you'd like." She says to the dead eyed human who called herself Aura, "It's mostly jerky but there's some candied salmon too." The tiefling takes the bag in her hand and giving her tail a small wave as it disappears back under her cloak. "Thank you."

She grins again showing off her oversized fangs. "Some of the first jerky ever made is a little salty but I got much better at making it over time." Narissa pulls a small cloth wrapped bundle of dried and glazed sweet meat. She pulls a long strip of meat out of the bundle and sticks one end in her mouth her sharp teeth making short work of the jerky. Narissa lets out a satisfied sigh closing her eyes and letting her shoulders relax.

She reopens her crimson eyes and looks at the others, "If you don't like it, that's okay. Just tell me what it needs and I can fix it." Narissa looks at Aura, "If you'd have told me your breakfast was bad I could have fixed that too." She smiles not showing her teeth this time, "It's what I do, I fix things."

Having finally recovered from his less than stellar introduction in the Harpyie's Nest Inn, Arphaxad joined the caravan which was now on the move (After returning the Tankard to the innkeeper of course and changing to his leather armor) towards their destination. The trek was slow but pleasant giving him more than enough time to learn more about his travelling companions. Finally as the sun is at its nadir, Mork the caravan master put the whole group to a stop near a farm to camp and rest for the night. Having only packed a sleeping bag and no tent, Arphaxad decided he will just unroll it later and instead try to help out amongst the camp. He overheard Mork talking to the leader of his hired guards (I think she's called Milly) about setting up rotations for a watch. He was about to raise his hand to offer to accompany the first watch when he heard Mork call out again,

"We could also use someone to cook, if there are any volunteers,"

The dragonborn perked his ears at the last sentence and grinned his sharp-toothed draconic grin. A chance to redeem himself after the embarrassing fiasco back at the tavern has presented itself to him like a succulent piece of honey glazed steak. Without hesitation, Arphaxad thrust his right hand up in the air like an excited dwarven boy and said ''Aye that would be me! I'd happily cook for all of ye!''

He said that a little too loud however and most if not all the caravan members turned to look toward the towering Dragonborn as if he had just gone mad.

''Ahem...I mean I could help around in the cooking...'', he said a little more than a whisper to Mork.

Strike two out of three he thought to himself...

As the journey has gone on, Belathor opens up a little more and you realise he is not naturally nervous but admits never having seen Dragonborn or Tieflings before but once he gets to know them, he becomes more himself, not at all nervous and happy to talk about his favourite subject, food.

Though not a fantastic cook, he offers to help where he can and is more than happy to perform menial tasks to speed along the process.

"So, Arphaxad. Do your people, umm, lay, umm, eggs?" he asks, a serious look on his face.

Aura smiles slightly as she takes a bit of jerky for herself "the wise know that one can't fix everything sometimes you must plant the seed and walk away and let the flower grow on its own. But i appreciate the thought" Auras said quoting a bit of wisdom that her clan had gleaned from her patron.

as the caravan gets moving auras keeps pace through out the whole trip until the stop to rest for the night. Aura decides to help with the watch hoping to learn more about the people on the caravan who may help or hinder her on her way to lambor's hold. "this trip has been something interesting." she muses to her self.

Disappointment tried to tug at Taz when her questions and comments to the others went unanswered, but she told herself that it was just because everyone was still unacquainted and on guard. She had traveled enough to understand that people approached companionship and sharing in different ways, and she tried to convince herself that she needn't take it personally. After all, she'd gotten one round of questions in, hadn't she? It was a start! Things would come more easily once they knew each other a little more, she was sure.

She tried her luck with the others among the caravan's travelers once the group had started on their way. She was the naturally curious sort, and interested in people in their stories. She made small talk with those who seemed interested, and indulged in longer conversations with Mork and with Milly when they came 'round to chat.

In between, she observed the caravan's travelers with the eye of a bard. Each person here had a story to tell, and some of them would make great songs. She didn't miss how the matter of cooking seemed to spark interest from a few different faces, and she was glad when the cleric reached out to speak with the dragonborn. See? she assured herself. People are loosening up!

"I don't mind taking a turn at watch," she offered, when Milly asked. Because truly, Taz near the cookstove was a recipe for nothing but disaster.

Narissa, Andariel as the caravan knew her, followed along beside one of the bigger wagons over the course of the day. She observed the guards but her attentions were focused further out on the horizon and in particular behind them. There was a nervousness with how she watched the road and carried herself.

At the end of the day she pulled off her pack and sets it next to the low stone wall that circles the fallow field, she digs out some more jerky and tears it apart with her pointed teeth before washing it all down with some water.

"I can cook," Narissa volunteers, "although I think it might be best if one of you decided on the spice level." She grinned, "I tend to like things abyssally hot." Narissa grin grew even wider at her joke.

From beneath her cloak she pulled out a heavy bladed knife with a forward hook to the blade, "Although perhaps I should gather firewood first." She thinks a moment, "Are there rules about cutting things down around here? Some lords are fussy about that sort of thing."

One of the halflings flags her down, "Excuse miss, can you start the fire?"

"I'm not actually that kind of witch." Narissa says with a smile as she twists a ribbon of frost and snow from the air with her fingers before releasing it.

The halfling nods, "My mistake."

"Anyone want to come with for gathering wood?" Narissa asks pushing her hair back behind her pointed ears.

The rest of the night was spent eating, drinking and leisurely chatting with the other caravan members. Arphaxad made a simple stew with the ingredients that he have and adding a bit of spices that he carried around. ''Now this ain't nothing like a proper dwarven dillegrout, but I reckon it can fill up yer bellies just as much,'' he said as he ladled the first scoop on the priest's bowl which was named Father Belathor. The dragonborn was heartened that there was at least someone who will enjoy his cooking but he is yet to gauge the reactions of his other companions like that Auras girl who complained about her food since morning. Arphaxad shrugged and continued to serve the other people.

Once that's done, he took a bowl for himself and sat down on the ground around the fire. He was about to take his first spoonful when he remembered that Father Belathor asked him something. ''About yer' question priest if ye mean by 'my people' like the dwarves of Blackstone clan then no they don't lay eggs. Well I've never seen any dwarf lay any sort of egg yet so I might be mistaken HAAR!!'' He laughed hard and heartily after that statement and he was quiet relieved that some of the group laughed with him as well. After the group quieted down he continued on ''but if you mean with dragonkin like me...then yes we came from eggs...at least that's what my father--I mean stepfather told me...''

Arphaxad's expression suddenly darkened as if remembering his past was painful. Before anybody could ask more about him, he called out to the Elf whose name was Taz (she really looks more like a human though) who was suddenly being silent. ''How about ye elf! where do ye come from? I mean obviously not from any egg, that I could tell! HAR!''

Belathor is at first baffled at this creature's suggestion that he came from Dwarves, but this is soon forgotten when Arphaxad confirms that they come from eggs, he starts to beam.

"Maybe you can help me. I have something I'd like you to see."

The priest pulls from his pack a box, somewhat like something in which you might store jewellery. Taking a small key, he unlocks it and opens it for you to see. Within, on a bed of soft straw is a bright red egg that looks like it weighs about a pound.

Narissa watches the priest show the dragonkin his egg, she blinks and thinks about this before looking at Taz. "You're like me, well not like me but you're like me. Half of one and half of the other." She sticks a spoonful of stew into her mouth and chews thoughtfully on the spoon for a moment. Narissa's tail appears over her shoulder wraps around the spoon and pulls it out of her mouth, "How do you know which side of you is elf and which is not?"

She stretches her fingers out showing off her blood red nails, "I don't think these are human, but they're not really claws either and I know my teeth aren't human but..." She blinks and looks at Taz again, "How do you know?"

Her tail dips the spoon in the stew again and brings it carefully to her mouth. "Do you know which of your parents was what? I don't."

Taz expressed her gratitude for the meal and those who had a hand in helping to provide it. Cooking was a sort of magic she'd never learned to understand, and she was always a little amazed when people took plain ingredients and turned them into something marvelous. She savored the unfamiliar meal while watching the rather fascinating interaction between the dragonborn and the cleric. When the former turned a sudden question towards her, her eyebrows shot up and she chuckled before offering a response.

"My name's, Taz," she reminded him. "And I'm only half an elf," she said, pausing to shoot a glance and a little wink to the half-elf kid who seemed to be traveling with his parents. Then her attention returned to Arphaxad. "But my family's from a little town just south of Luskan. No eggs in the family tree, that I know of," she admitted, with a half-cocked smile. Her eyes shifted to Belathor. "How'd you wind up with an egg like that?"

Narissa's comment drew Taz's attention towards the tiefling, and she smiled and nodded at the initial assessment. When Narissa went on to talk about parts being one species versus the other, though, confusion and amusement flickered through Taz's expression.

"I guess I don't think of it that way," she admitted, looking down at her hands. "I don't think of myself as having human parts and elven parts. All of my parts are just... half human, half elf. But I know my parents, sure. My dad's fully human, and runs a tavern where we're from. My mom's the elf." She smiled, pride causing her to beam a little brighter. "She's an adventurer."

She considered Narissa's comments further and tilted her head curiously towards the tiefling.

"That sounds like a potential quest in the making," she pointed out, with a gamine grin beginning to rise. "Have you ever wanted to track down your parents and meet them?"

"Good question and one I struggle to answer. Before I joined the church, I had many vices, among them drinking and gambling. I suspect I won the egg in a game of chance, but unfortunately, the drink clouds the memory as was the case on that occasion. I have no idea what it is and have spent every day since trying to find out."

"I wouldn't know where to begin," Narissa says with a shrug, "I don't know where I'm from even."

She takes the spoon back from her tail and runs it around the inside of the bowl gathering up the last of the gravy and vegetable. "The people I used to live with didn't know where I came from either. I visited a scholar once in a neighboring village and he told me I was, atypical, for a tiefling."

Narissa grins and puts her bowl and spoon down. "Most of my kind are about fire and ash. The taint of our infernal ancestry he said." She twists her fingers in the air drawing in the elemental energies around them and lowering the temperature of the air as a thin tendril of frost manifest itself. "I'm about cold and ice. He liked that, said it made me different, perhaps even redeemable. As if by simply existing it meant that there was something wrong with me." She shrugged and released the magics allowing the temperature of the air to rise again.

She grinned showing off all her teeth again, "You want to see the best thing I can do?" Narissa asked reaching over and grabbing a tankard of water and taking a sip.

Auras listened intently as the others conversed as she ate her stew. it was surprisingly good she had to admit. when the priest brought out an egg Auras examined it from afar (not sure if i can roll an investigation check or not.) then she turned to taz and narissa "life is life. doesnt matter how you came to be, it what you are doing with your life that matters. that what is important. The smallest pebble can still have a ripple effect long after its gone from view in a pond. Even when we are gone, we will affect the lives of many by our words and actions, even if none are aware of it. we must remember that" auras finished her stew, "i'll help keep watch for the first round if the guards will have me." auras stood up to and after a long stretch. she started to sing "a poor old man came a riding by says i old man your horse willl die...
(aura's song in full gonna do my rolls too.)


Poor old man

Belathor applauds heartily, "Bravo!"

Narissa tilts her head to one side listening to Auras, "People who know how they came to be might think that it does not matter but for those of us who do not it does." The tiefling offers a toothy grin, "It does not mean that I do not live each day as best I can but there remains this nagging question in the back of my mind at all times."

She holds her tankard of water tight for a moment whispering something under her breath. After a moment a column of steam begins to rise from it and the air around her begins to smell like hot mead. She takes a sip and smiles letting the warmth of the liquid spread through herself.

Arphaxad beamed at the Elf--nay Half-elf's response and he was heartened that the woman was back to her cheery self. He was about to ask more questions about this novel idea of having parents of two different ancestry, when the bard asked Belathor about the egg he was now showing to him. Egged on (pun unashamedly intended) by the sudden curiosity of seeing a crimson egg, Arphaxad tried to remember bits and pieces of lore about them. ''Hmm...I don't think it's familiar...I'd nae encounter any other eggs before other than the one I came from which me da still kept aroun'...let me think...'' He continued on wracking his brain to search for any more information about strangely colored eggs which was made somewhat difficult with the distraction of the Tefling's tail which was moving around like it has a mind of its own...

As the singing of the human woman named Auras continues on in the background (Heh, I'm surprised it was nae the Half-Elf...) Arphaxad is still trying to remember where he read about different kinds of eggs during his time in the libraries of his stepfather's hold.

Taz sits, her meal paused while clearly raptly watching and listening as Narissa explained what she knew of her lineage. She shivered a little when the air about them chilled, but seemed to enjoy the display of Narissa's ability. The talk of redemption sobered her a little, though, and she shook her head.

"For all their book smarts, scholars can still be pretty dense sometimes," she said. She'd intended to say more on the topic, but Auras summed up her feelings quite well. "Exactly!" Taz agreed, with a grin towards the noblewoman. "But--if you are ever curious about figuring out where you might've come from, there's nothing wrong with that. As long as there's magic in the world, nothing's really impossible. Maybe some day you'll stumble across a lead you aren't expecting." As for her talents, Taz beamed, excited when Narissa offered to demonstrate a trick. "Of course I wanna see!"

Auras took up a song, which entirely delighted Taz. She felt the urge to pull her lute off of her pack and play along, but the kind of song Auras chose, and her skill in performing it, made it feel entirely unnecessary.

"Well done!" she cheered, applauding with the rest of them when Auras had finished.

When Belathor relayed that he couldn't recall how he acquired his mysterious egg, Taz grinned brightly. "Oh, a mystery!" she decided aloud, clapping her hands together once. "I do like a mystery. May I see?"

"It looks like breakfast to me." Narissa says with a toothy grin before turning to the priest. "You should be careful with that while a good many harmless and even wonderful things come from eggs there are a lot of terrible things that come from them as well. Waking up and finding that you've hatched a basilisk or a cockatrice would be a terrible way to begin your day."

She looks at the egging in Taz's hands, "Is there any noise coming from it? You know some demons are hatched from clutches of eggs." Narissa looks at the stares she gets from this off the cuff remark. "It's true!" She gives her horns a wiggle making the charms and chains attached to them flicker in the fire light. "Would you want to give birth to something with horns like this?" Narissa giggles as a series of horrified looks spread around the camp. "They're smaller when we're little but horns are still horns no matter how small."

"What ever it is, it would be born into the light of Lathander, holy be his name."

Arphaxad looked at the red tinged egg a while longer trying to identify it. But the longer he looked, the more the thought of how red eggs would make for an omelette crossed his mind. And that wouldn't be nice especially for the cleric who seems nice a nice enough sort of man. Then he turned his head to the blue-skinned mage on commenting that it could be the egg of a dangerous creature. He doesn't know what a Cocoa Threes or a Basil Lisp is, so he just takes the word of the horned woman. Then before he could say anything, Belathor suddenly lifts the egg and decides to offer it to some god named Lack ender or something. Before the holy man could do that however, the bewildered Dragonborn blurted out, ''Hold on a whit! How do ye know that the child inside worships your god? whose to say it's Clangeddin or Morradin its worshippin?! and can eggs worship gods now?''

"His Light bathes all, his light shields all," not sure how to interpret the way Arphaxad is licking his lips, Belathor carefully returns the egg to its home, "I thank you all, I have much to contemplate."

Belathor is up before dawn, as is his habit, and prepares his dawn ritual to Lathander as the sun rises.

Narissa yawns and stretches before pulling her blanket up over her head in a vain attempt to block out the orc's singing. After a while she gets up and cleans up her spot brushing any dirt from her bedroll before bundling it back up and attaching it to her pack. She eats breakfast quietly with the others and enjoys a spot of hot tea before they head back out onto the road.

When they break at the willow tree in sight of the forest's edge Narissa leans sits on the ground next to a wagon wheel and consumes more of her rations. The forest here was so very different from the woods around Jinglepot. This one was large and foreboding, dark and tangled in places. She took her mug of water and carefully altered it with her magics still it tasted like a warm mug of chicken broth which she consumed with her dried meats.

"What do we know about the forest?" She asked Mork but looking around at the others.

"Is there really rumor of a dragon?" Taz asked, eyes widening at Mork's words. She seemed excited by the prospect rather than terrified, which was a fairly clear indicator of a girl who'd never actually faced down a dragon before. She looked around to the others, quiet for a beat as she assessed them.

"I'm pretty handy with my sword," she said, "And some of you folks look like you're even better prepared to face a threat than I am. have any of you ever squared off against a real monster?" she asked, bright eyes flicking curiously from face to face.

"I would really rather not see a dragon." Narissa says chewing on more of her dried meats, she thinks a moment as she chews, "No wait, as something that is snack sized I really think I'd rather not be seen by a dragon." The tiefling grins bites into another piece of jerky and makes a show of ripping it in half.

Taz's second question makes Narissa pause, she thinks about halfling mother's grabbing their children and hastily heading in a different direction as she approached and that human man at the pub in Ravensthorpe who'd demanded she be removed for daring to defile the building. Was she the monster or were they? "I met a nasty little goblin tinker once, he didn't like me very much though and there were these two kobolds who would show up from time to time on market days to trade metals and semi precious stones."

She thinks back to the night when that column of fire burned through the roof of her house turning everything to ash as she fled into the cellar and out through an opening barely wider than her shoulders as everything collapsed behind her. The fire had burned hot, unnaturally, magically hot and the speed with which it had consumed her life defied reason. Surely that had been the work of a monster but she'd never seen it, never seen anything but the flames.

"I never saw the real monster, just saw what he did and that was more than enough for me."

Arphaxad woke up before the caravan master was singing his song. He couldn't sleep much anyway, with all the open sky and wide ground around them. This isn't a proper dwarven hold with its comforting caverns and vaulted ceilings. He will have to make do. Seeing the human cleric bless the red egg from last night and offer it to his god stirred something within the dragonborn. He wasn't a very religious man, but something about the priest's gesture reminded him that he was going on a journey very far away from his adopted family. Where a possibility of danger and death looms close as well as that of adventure. He was in good spirits until the caravan came close to the dark forbidding forest on the way to Lambor's Hold. The feeling of palpable danger was thick in those woods and he could feel it.

He shrugged and shook his head. No use in acting afraid like a wee kobold...if me da would see me now he would blanch... He cleared his throat and began to recite the only ''prayer'' he was taught in clan Blackstone's halls:He finished the poem just as the whole group of travellers have risen. He packed up his bedroll, stretched a couple more times and took a simple breakfast from his rations. He listened as the blue-skinned mage and the half-elven bard mused about the legends surrounding the forest they were about to go through. Dragons, goblins, kobolds. All talk of legends. Even If those tales become tangible he would be ready for it. But first we got to do something about food around here...the stew was good (well I made it) but we need more before we can go into those woods who knows how long we could be there?

With his mind set, Arphaxad lumbered over Mork and asked him, ''Hail caravan master! I wonder if we have time to forage for more food around here before we go in there,'' he gestured towards the tall trees of the forest. ''I reckon we would nae be able to hunt inside that while we move unless I'm mistaken and the legends of the forest won't take too kindly to it?''

After confirming with the half-orc, Arphaxad moved carefully around the edge of the forest drawing his bow in the oft chance that a rabbit or any small critter would happen by. He scanned the forest floor for any edible fruits, roots, and animals to add to the caravan's provisions.

Belathor has a little knowledge about a lot of things, so he looks for berries and roots, sticking within shouting distance of Arphaxad.

Following Belathor and Arphaxad's example Narissa will also see if she can find anything useful for their journey through the forest.

Tassarien helps forage too, when it comes time for it!

Narissa wanders along with the caravan humming to herself and keeping an eye on the forest to the sides. Unlike the woods around Jinglepot which were open and airy there was a claustrophobic feel about this place as everything seemed to press in and down upon them.

Auras is quite pleased with how the trip been even helped get supplies for the caravan. Though some thing seem off to her about this place and she hated it as she did her best to keep her eyes peeled for trouble. (Will add more in a bit for the past posts.)

As the group cautiously entered the forest, the feeling of danger that Arphaxad felt before elevated to a point where he volunteered to be the rear guard for the caravan. In these strange storied woods, one can never be too careful. The dragonborn drew his weapons and proceeded to scan the forest at the rear of the group for any danger or strange things.

Taz fought the urge to feel nervous about the darkening forest by focusing on trying to put everyone else at ease. She pulled out her lute, and while moving alongside the caravan, she strummed out a light-hearted and gentle little ditty. Her aim was to be just enough to soothe those who were nervous without being so loud that she caused a huge disturbance while moving through the woods. Just background comfort, she hoped.

While doing so, she kept her bearing relaxed and a soft smile on her lips. Her gaze, however, swept routinely over the woods around them as the group moved.

Father Belathor feels alive in the forest, he feels all the life around him very intensely. Although he has tried to have a seat as much as possible on the trip so far, he makes a point of walking here, taking it all in.

Auras curses "we got company! Prepare to defend yourselves!" as she readies an attack spell as she gets ready to defend the caravan from the first enemy she sees That tries to attack.

"watch your flanks and form a circle with the wagons!" she commands.

The bard's singing certainly helped to ease off some tension felt around the caravan and despite himself, Arphaxad began to relax for a little bit. That small respite was interrupted suddenly however when he heard the human Auras shout out in alarm. At first, he was confused at what the white-eyed woman was shouting at then he saw it: multiple silhouettes emerging from the shadow of the forest trees. They look vaguely human-like and don't look to be friendly made evident by how quickly they moved towards the center of the caravan. Arphaxad cursed himself for not seeing the approaching figures which have now circled and surrounded the whole group.

The stories and legends have now taken shape.

The Dragonborn interposed himself between the dark woods and the middle of the caravaneers and raised his shield and readied his weapon while uttering a dwarven warcry:

Vennag Mahal de-do amuriz!
Vennag de-do amuriz uz!
Kaglem shmek um greu!
Un horlem demz luzdh!

Belathor stands close to Arphaxad, pulling a small piece of cloth and muttering a prayer,

"Lathander, protect this one with your everlasting light"

and he gently touches Arphaxad on the shoulder.

Narissa looks around, Bandits? Damn it. She'd really been enjoying the forest too, creepy though it was.

The half demon woman hefted her spear and quickly twisted the fingers of her right hand just so before touching her left arm. The gem in her choker glowed like a fireplace ember for a moment as a faint blue energy encircled her before fading quickly from view.

She positions herself between the forest and the caravan, pulling energy in so that she can cast frostbite on the first enemy to reveal themselves.

Belathor has his hand on the haft of his mace ready to draw it but waits to see what happens next. Perhaps this is a cousin or friend of Mork?

Taz gently swung her lute to her back, freeing her hands for her rapier in case the need arose. She neared Milly as she watched the orc approach, and took a quick inventory of the bearings of Mork, the bandits, and the caravan members. The grin on the orc's face didn't bode well for the caravan, though Taz didn't miss how he carefully took in the presence of more armed travelers than he was likely expecting.

"Hi!" she chirped, sliding from Milly's side to Mork's. She touched a hand to the half-orc's shoulder, attempting to wordlessly reassure him while she addressed the large fellow standing in their path. She knew the chance of talking their way out of this was a slim one, but even if she couldn't manage it, perhaps she could provide her companions some extra time to prepare themselves to defend the caravan.

"I'm Taz," she said, with a bright, friendly smile. "And that is a seriously impressive ax you've got there! Holy smokes, you must be a sight to see when you're fired up. I hope you're still here when our hunters catch up--they love impressive weapons. You should see the size of their blades! They'll be along any minute now. You wanna hang around for a bit and meet them?"

Yes, it was lying out of her ass. But she didn't see many nonviolent ways out of this moment, and she hoped that the orc would lose his thirst for a fight if he thought another several blades would soon be joining the already well-armed party.

Auras was not happy with anything at all. the situation was delicate, one wrong move could have a bloodbath on their hands. then taz had to go and bullshit the ork causing auras to slap her face internally. now what? Auras was thinking she was hoping to save her attack spell for the fight, but now she needed to rethink a strategy still holding to her attack spell she said trying to salvage the situation "good sirs you are blocking the road it would be good for us all if you lets us through unharmed. I would hate for any side to get hurt if it can be avoided."

Narissa lets out a sigh and Taz's painfully awful lie.

"They're bandits, they're unlikely to let us go without a fight or a sizable bribe." She grins showing off a mouthful of sharp teeth, "Of course the problem is they're holding up a bunch of penniless dirt farmers and equally penniless travelers so other than a very fine collection of pots and pans there really isn't much worth stealing here."

She shrugs wandering up next to Auras, "Certainly nothing worth anyone losing their life over that's for sure."

Arphaxad was bristling at seeing the exchange between his travelling companions and the band of bandits in front of them. Why are they bandying with them? There's nothing far worse than a horde of goblins, and kobolds than an orc. And a thieving one at that. granted he was travelling with an orc (or half an orc as it were) and he should be more tolerant of them but seeing a full blooded one having the gall to ask for a ''small toll'' when it's certainly a robbery removed any semblance of civility he had. It was compounded even more by seeing a dwarven woman among the bandits. Why would a noble dwarf cast their lot with this rabble? it doesn't make sense! Then having had enough, the warrior purposefully started to walk in front of the orc bandit with murder in his eyes. He was about to utter his war cry and lop off the orc's head when he noticed a movement out of the corner of his eye.

The half-elven child was clinging tightly around his mother's body. The lad was shaking something fierce with all the fear permeating in the current situation. The boy didn't have a say in anything that is happening now. Seeing the hapless child deflated the anger Arphaxad was close to unlashing. The boiling kettle needs to be removed on the flame. Taking a few calming breaths, he tried to think of something to diffuse the situation to stop any bloodshed. But by Moradin's beard he won't be paying these scoundrels a scrap of copper. Trying to talk the party out of there was a foregone conclusion as made evident by Taz's failure and much to the masterful persuasion of Auras the bandits are still there demanding a toll. No he would try to resolve this in the only way he knows: by strength.

Noticing a boulder tucked between the bushes that the brigands came out of, an idea took root in his mind. It was the same size as the dwarven thug. His plan will have to work or there will be bloodshed. ''Oi ye buggers! I reckon ye need a little more convincing! why don't I show you that we're nae an easy mark that ye think of us!

Taz took a slow look around at her traveling companions, both the armed and the unarmed. While part of her knew this wasn't her call to make, she couldn't help but feel like a few of her armed associates were ready to respond emphatically to the orc's demands. It was scary to think of starting a fight so near to the rest of the caravan, where many of the travelers seemed close to defenseless. But the sight of the cowering half-elf kid sealed the matter for her.

If you don't stand up to bullies, bullies will always stand in your way.

"Unless you've got a crown shoved somewhere impolite, you're not a royal tax collector. You're just a bully, looking for an easy score. But there's not gonna be anything easy about this, unless you and your buddies take a hint and keep moving. If we have to really stop our travel and spend time teaching you folks some manners, you'll regret it."

Bolstered by the half-even Bard's words, Arphaxad strode over to the boulder that he was eyeing earlier on with more confidence. He flexed his arms for a bit making sure the brigands take a good look at his muscles. ''Oi Orc! See this boulder here? Imagine if this is your head...'' without preamble, the dragonborn fighter lifted his right arm, clenched his fist and quick as an arrow brought his hammer fist down on the rock's surface.

Narissa flicks a hand tossing a minor illusion on the rock while everyone is distracted by the dragonborn’s antics making whatever Arphaxad actually does to it seem more impressive. Cracking the stone in two where it sits.

Aura looks at the ork and then hears mork whisper to her. "It not a bad deal if you have fifteen gold. do you have fifteen gold to spare? I personally don't want to give it to them for free cause they haven't earned it. How ever if they willing to take ten I might let them take that." Auras thought a moment before speaking up so the ork bandit can hear "we can give you ten gold now if you help guard us to Lombars hold and five gold if we can reach it unscathed that seems fair. Do a good enough job I might throw in another 5 gold personally."

Belathor is impressed with Auras solution, killing two birds with one stone without killing anything at all. Looking at the others, they look desperate and would probably prefer to earn.

"And perhaps join us in preparing and eating some wonderful food on the way," smiles Belathor.

Arphaxad had his jaws gaping wide. Not just in failing to make the boulder break (although it did shift slightly to the left) but in the prospect of hiring bandits to ''guard'' the caravan. what's more shocking is that the brigands agreed! The dragonborn sagged his shoulders in defeat. At least the people won't be caught in any violence he thought. I agree with hiring ye for now...but I've got my eyes on ye! And I won't pay ye anything unless we reach the village unmolested! The warrior huffed, and stomped away from the scene heading to the front of the caravan. People can hear him grumbling as he made his way through.

Narissa grins a mouthful of sharp teeth at the Orc, "Are you really sure you trust us not to simply take your heads and turn them in for whatever reward there is for bandits in this part?"

She smirks a little watching the orc and his companions reaction to this and starts to giggle just a little.

Narissa shrugs, "I couldn't say it with a straight face and I wasn't going to try to smash a rock to impress you." She winks, pulls in just enough energy to cast prestidigitation and flicks at something above her head. A metallic *ping* rings out across the caravan accompanied by a shower of sparks in the shape of a halo, "I'm only half devil."

Auras smiled "well now that has been settled let's carry on. You and your friends should be happy. honest work is good for the soul and your getting a meal out of the equation and payment. This is called a win win scenario." Auras smiled at the ork bandit "and nobody had to be hurt soo I'm quite pleased." With that Auras turned to mork "right shall we continue? We wasting time just standing around."

In spite of the bandtis' apparent immunity to her charms, Taz doesn't let up in her attempts to soften them towards the caravaners. She doesn't trust them to not try and rob the group and sneak away in the night, so she finds it worth her time to cozy up to this one and that one, making rounds through the whole lot of them over the course of the day, if she can manage it. She sleeps soundly that night in spite of it all, as she does trust Milly's crew and is reassured that there'll be a known set of eyes keeping watch on the new help. She watches the exchange between Mork and Mosh, not far from Milly when the guard makes her comment.

"You're still ahead of the game," Taz points out, with a smile. "You can plan ahead now, and bring enough people to account for Mosh's troops. Or, Mork can charge a small fee from the caravaners, and just plan to pay their toll next time. Either way, you won't be caught off guard again, right?"

Arphaxad spent a sleepless night in the caravan to join Milly and the guards in taking watch. Even though with the consensus of hiring the bandits as extra security was already decided, the dragonborn wasn't just gonna trust them to not cut their throats and loot them all the same. Finally, as morning arrived the caravan master Mork paid the promised amount to the bandits-turned-ersatz guards and sent the caravan on their way. With the forest behind them and less than a day's journey to reach Lambor's hold, Arphaxad recovered some energy despite not sleeping throughout the night. It will be good to find an inn or somewhere else to sleep with a roof over their heads and without worrying about catlike creatures or bandits jumping up on you.

''It would be nice if that town has a tavern with something to drink aye! all this trudging around with all those trees around ye have worked up a thirst in me!''

Belathor wanders to the bandit camp and checks they are all healthy and if they have any ailments that he can attend to. He will especially look out for the young child and make sure they are healthy.

Narissa wanders along with the group listening to the bandits talk among themselves during the day she tries to get them to talk more about Lambor's Hold but they're surprisingly reticent to discuss the village at length. At night she does a turn of watch and sleeps not well but not horribly. The idea of bedding down with bandits who might kidnap her and sell her into slavery or something like that doesn't sit well in the back of her mind.

Come morning she gets up, stretches and shakes the nagging aches out of her back. Lambor's Hold and a real bed were looking particularly inventing, even if the village was overrun with witches and the fey. The thought of ale or mead as Arphaxad had suggested sounded particularly good.

"I don't know as they'll be making that kind of bargain again." Narissa says listening to Taz as she talks to Milly. "Sooner or later they'll kill the wrong someone and some petty noble with a troop of Kings Guard will end up having to deal with them." She shrugs returning to her breakfast, "Honestly they'd be better off just acting as protection through the forest than being bandits."

Narissa fiddles with her cloak trying to get her hood around her horns as best as possible, they were the absolute worst in the rain. She had careful slits that stitched up in her hood but the water always dripped down the horns and into her hair, the harder it rained the wetter she got and it irritated her to no end. She grumbled and fretted the morning away and as the talk of shelter went on she began to cast her eyes about for some place safe and dry.

"Is the town much further?" Narissa asked Milly and Mork. The hem of her skirt was filthy, mud sucked at her hooves every time she took a step and even her tail was cold and damp. An incessant trickle of cold water ran across her shoulders and down both her front and her back. Everything she owned felt soaked through, and she doubted very much that even her magics could start a fire in all of this bloody water. Narissa pulled her cloak tighter about herself for all the good it did.

"Spreading is probably not wise. I'd say we should keep going," Belathor doesn't seem bothered by the weather at all.

"I agree with the Father," Narissa says despite the torrents of water issuing forth from the heavens, "spreading out and searching the forest isn't a great idea and what about the horses and carts? We can't very well drag them off through the brambles."

She looks about at the others, "If some adequate shelter provides itself within view of the road we might want to avial ourselves of the opportunity but searching sounds like a good way for someone to get lost." The half devil woman looks at Mork and Milly, "Are there any fords we have to make before the village? River crossings might be unpassable because of all this rain."

Arphaxad looked at the sorry collection of people that was the caravan huddled together in the middle of the road. They were wet, tired, hungry and at least for him, very thirsty for ale. He was listening to the conversations of Mork and his other companions about whether to push on for three hours in the middle of a fierce storm to reach Lambor's hold or to try and wander out to find any suitable place to shelter. As it were, it seems like staying together and trying to tough out the storm is more preferable then getting stuck in the dark. With what few remaining daylight they have, they need to do something and quick.

He noticed the pack animals with them are getting a little antsy and are ready to bolt if a large wave of thunderbolts and lightning were to come by. He walked towards the half-orc with a purpose in mind. He raised his voice to be heard in the heavy downpour ''If we need to move, we've got ta do it now! I have experience with handling animals back at home and I reckon I can move these beasts to move faster so we can arrive in the village much quicker what say ye?''

The rain through the forest canopy reminded Taz of a time before, one of her previous adventures where she and her friends had delved into dark and unkind woods not unlike these in search of a ruined temple. They'd survived the day with all parties intact, but it'd been a harrowing experience, full of hard lessons and moments where they'd all been uncertain of their fates.

Arphaxad moved past her, his bombastic voice talking about helping the animals along, and Taz snapped back to the present moment, realizing she'd been daydreaming for several minutes, now. She looked around at the soggy caravan, and then squinted up at the downpour from overhead.

"We can't be more than a few hours away from the village now, can we?" she guessed, moving over towards where Mork and the others were debating the preferred reaction to the storm. "If we dig in, maybe we'll make it to some warm beds by nightfall." She smiled broadly at the idea, and turned to look at the nearest caravaner, looking for agreement. "Just think! A roaring fireplace in a quaint little inn. A kindly old barkeep there to keep our tankards full, a local brew in our cups, warming our bellies!" She went on at length, painting a picture of a cozy, comfortable evening that awaited them once they reached the village, trying intentionally to engage the people around her, and to get them to buy into her excitement and share a little of it.