The Realm of Ganoltir: Strife, Exploration, and Prosperity
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"Let's see - the supplies are going to run you eighty gold. Eighty gold as well for the codex. Then Araran would be sixty and I could let the handbook go for forty," the dwarf replies, pausing mid sentence to do some mental calculations. "I tell you what though - if you want the lot I'll throw in the handbook for free," he adds after a moment.
"Oh, hoh!" Brannik chuckles, nodding excitedly. "Good deal, then. Here you go." He counts out twenty-two golden tenpennies, handing them to the old dwarf.
Sliding a sack from his rucksack, he carefully bundles up the glassware and packs it away, along with the books.
Turning to his companions, the Bull puts his hands on his hips. "Well then, friends, shall we make our way to wider pastures?"
Wes grins as Brannik makes the exchange, their errands for Farryn finally complete. I should hope he won't need more supplies for some time. He nods at the dwarf, weaving his way back into the street. "Aye. Let's take a look at the general store while we're here. It never hurts to be stocked up." He looks down the street, eyes meeting the general store as he starts walking.
"A pleasure doing business with you," the dwarf replies to Brannik, turning the coins over a couple of times examining their authenticity before pocketed them, seemingly satisfied they're real.
You exit the alchemist's shop and head across the street towards Hamlin's Provisions where the soldiers are still talking to the man outside. As you draw closer you can spot patches bearing the blue stag's head of House Alden on the soldiers' jerkins.
"Well that's no guarantee. How am I supposed to run a business like this?" the non soldier of the trio exclaims loud enough to hear as you approach, his voice sounding exasperated.
"Everyone will be reimbursed as soon as the King's main armies push forward and our supply lines from the capital are restored," one of the soldiers replies in an uncaring tone.
"We better, or I'll be expecting Lord Alden to pay me back himself, the shopkeeper replies before storming off back into the shop, leaving the soldiers with their crates of supplies.
Brannik listens to the tail end of what he deems a court-sanctioned seizing of goods. He leads the group as casually as possible past the soldiers and inside, making no intention of stopping.
Looks like we gotta buy something from this fellow now. He needs the coin if his lord is robbing him of it.
Adrian browses the wares of the alchemy shop, but finds the interaction mostly uninteresting. He'd dabbled in the discipline as part of his education to become Magistrate, but it had never been his cup of tea. The last thing he wanted to do was to make their errand take longer than it needed to be.
Once outside, Adrian frowns for a moment as he witnesses the interaction between shopkeep and soldier. Of course, just like in the villages the strong seek take what they can at the expense of the weak. Why would it be any different just because this place has walls and a keep to protect it?
He forces a more neutral expression as they draw closer to the local men-at-arms, not wanting to draw their attention. He follows after Brannik, also ignoring the men while passing to enter the shop. Hopefully this place has something more useful. And interesting.
The soldiers pay you little attention as you walk past them and step into the shop. Inside the shop is fairly cluttered, with crates of goods stacked up against the walls and open barrels dotted around filled with different contents, from grain to charcoal to tools. Cages of different shapes and sizes hang from the beams in the ceiling, most are empty or contain seemingly random assortments of mundane items but two over near the counter contain two brightly coloured birds unlike any birds you've seen in Tulrisse before. Their feathers a vibrant mix of red, blue, green, and yellow.
As you enter a small bell above the door rings, causing some squawking from the birds, alerting the man you had seen outside to your presence. He puts down his quill on the counter and looks up from the large ledger he had begun writing in.
"Welcome to Hamlin's Provisions. I'm Hamlin. Can I help you with anything today?" He says as he sees the six of you standing by the entrance.
"G'day Hamlin," Brannik greets the man. "What sort of birds be they?" He calmly steps toward the cages, smiling at them. Never seen anything like the sort. They look like jungle birds. Kurnish? Vishan?
"Something Macaws. I can't remember exactly the full name," Hamlin replies, looking up at the birds. "I bought them off a Ship's Captain I met in Kingsport a while back, along with some other interesting items. They're from the jungles of Visha, where ever that is. Five hundred gold and their yours - They even talk. Only repeating simple words or phrases mind you. Don't expect much of a conversation with them."
"Hello!" One of the birds squawks almost as if on cue.
Fascinating, Wes thinks, glancing at the tropical birds, caught by surprise as it perfectly mimics a greeting. "I'm not sure I'm in need of a bird. But what other sorts of interesting items did you find?" the man asks, curious as to what exotic wares the storekeeper has for sale.
"I still have a few of them somewhere. They're not exactly in the price range most of my customers can afford being mystical objects from far away lands," Hamlin says to Wes as he begins rummaging around beneath the counter. After a moment he moves his search to a nearby shelf and then after moving a couple of ceramic urns to the side he grabs a small chest, made of a rich and dark wood, and moves it to the counter. He undoes the latch on the chest and opens it, first removing a small ornate wooden box which is covered in carvings of feathers. He opens the box and turns it towards you. Inside, sat in a velvet lining, are two ten sided dice made of obsidian. One of the dice shows a raven's head face up and the other a talon.
"I believe he said these dice are from a place called Cruan, or something like that anyway. You ask a question about a course of action and roll them. If the risk is likely to outweigh the benefit you'll get two talons. If the reward outweighs the risk you get two heads and one of each if it's equally risky and rewarding. They've helped me with several business decisions in the past," Hamlin explains before pulling out another item from the chest.
He sets down a scabbard for a short sword on the counter next to the box of dice. The scabbard is fairly simple in design save for a series of rubies set in silver along its length. "This scabbard is very interesting. One of Lord Alden's knights was planning on purchasing it actually, until he was killed in a joust. It can expand or shrink to fit any blade and the magic enhances the sharpness of any weapon stored in it. Potentially very useful for people of your profession," he adds looking at your weapons and armour.
"And finally we have this," he says removing a small bag made of dark blue silk tied at the top with a golden drawstring. Hamlin unties the string and tips the contents into his hand setting in on the table next to the dice and the scabbard. It is a small bronze figurine of a warrior in strange armour. "This figurine can be used to summon a life sized version of it to distract your enemies," Hamlin says with a smile. "It's quite something," he adds.
"Something!" One of the parrots echoes.
"Any of these something you'd be interested in?"
"They're beautiful creatures," Brannik admits as he watches the macaws. "Hello!" he says back to them with a smile, listening in as the shopkeeper peddles his wares.
Gamblers' dice. He bristles at the thought. Gut instinct's gotten me this far.
His attention is drawn at the mention of a scabbard, but he shrugs and turns back to the birds. Sharp don't matter for this hefty bastard, he considers, shifting his hammer to his other shoulder. It's about the force behind the blow.
At last, he peers over at the odd figurine. I don't pay for allies — be they arcane tricks or otherwise.
Summarily unimpressed, Brannik stands patiently for his companions to speak.
The arcane knight raises an eyebrow at the trinkets, concealing a grimace from the shopkeeper. Well at least his birds are quite interesting. The rest of this? I'm unsure. He thinks back to the quality of enchanted items from his homeland, knowing how much they surpass these toys.
"Fascinating, indeed, but I'm not sure I'm in the market for such items," Wes says, uninterested in spending his coin on such wares. He looks around the rest of the store, curious what else it might hold that they need. It'd be foolish to not pick up some supplies while here. What is it we even need?
"Interesting birds," Adrian responds. He is about to mention having seen similar exotic birds at an estate back in Gleios, but catches himself. Not the best time to reveal I am a foreigner to these lands, at least not to someone in enemy territory. "Though I don't have the money to spend on pets."
He looks to the others and, seeing they are in agreement in their lack of interest, is a bit shocked. All of these items seem at least marginally useful. Best not to turn them away without evening hearing the prices. "What would these items set us back, should we be interested?" he asks the man.
"I could sell you the dice for say 800 gold. The Scabbard would be 1000 and the Soldier would be 2000," Hamlin replies to Adrian. "I paid a lot more than that for them too," he adds.
"I'd rather just recoup some of my loses on them now than have them sit in a chest forever."
Wes raises an eyebrow at the shopkeeper's listed prices, then examines the wares. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to see if they're genuine items first, if Adrian is to buy one. He focuses on the objects, trying to determine the extent of their magical effects.
The arcane knight looks over the objects, nodding as he determines their authenticity. "A strange magic, but magic indeed," he says to his companions. "What he says about the items seems to be true."
"I'm not some back alley con man," Hamlin replies. "I've got a reputation to uphold."
"Con man!" one of the Macaws says from its cage.
"Hmm," Brannik grunts to Wes (and Adrian, if close enough), taking a second look at the pair of dice through narrowed eyes. He clears his throat to whisper his thoughts. "To be frank, that sort of divination could prove a long-standing boon to Fausta's Shield. Every decision we make is done with a hefty amount of risk, whether it is traveling to town to get supplies, determining our next movements, or deciding whether or not to take on another pack of the Kings' bastards.
At the macaw's accusation, Brannik raises his head and smiles courteously at Hamlin. "Certainly not a con man. A fine merchant, clearly, as evidenced by the quality of these certain treasures you've procured."
Wes raises his hands, not trying to insult the man's business. "Nor did I think you were. I was just unsure of the potency of such enchantments. We don't have much like this in Menora." He glances at the tropical bird, smirking at its mimicry. Maybe a bird like this is worth keeping around.
The knight nods at the dwarf's suggestion. "Aye, I can see its merits in our line of work."
"That was my thought as well," Adrian responds. "Just this last trip we encountered enemy caravenners and an enemy raid. Would be nice to have a heads up the next time if things are going to get interesting."
"Right, then. So, the dice, and any normal supplies or gear we'll need, then, yes?" Brannik confirms with his companions.
Wesley nods to his companion. "Indeed, whatever we need to make our living arrangements a bit more habitable." If there's even such a thing as a cave fit for nobility. But every bit to make it less of a cave and more of a home helps.
"Alright, Hamlin, I believe my associates and I have come to an agreement it seems." Brannik steps closer. "We'll take the dice off of you at-cost. In addition, I've got a few things here I'm looking for."
He takes out a small logbook, squinting down at his coarse handwriting.
"Alright, my friend, so we're looking for a few pelts. Fox, bear, lynx, whatever works. Also, carpenter's tools — y'know, two axes, a saw, a mallet, whatever else for fine details. Also looking for some chain, and some rope. Two lamps, some oil to suit. Candles, maybe a dozen. Two bars of soap, if'n ye carry any, and a razor. Also, a set of fishhooks and tackle."
The dwarf takes a breath. "You get all that?"
"And, if you have one, a teapot would be nice," Adrian adds. "Some cups too, of any sort." If we are going to be making a home for ourselves, we can't go without some good tea. This country needs to learn more about it, they don't seem to care at all.
"Excellent!" Hamlin replies, his face lightning up as you decide to buy one of his wondrous items. He listens carefully as you continue listing off items.
"I should have everything I believe. Give me a couple of minutes and I'll put it together," he says, putting the scabbard and figurine back in their chest before stepping away from the counter. He begins moving from shelf to shelf stopping occasionally to retrieve of of the items from your list. Once his hands are full he moves the items over to the counter, repeating the process a couple of times.
He then carefully removes a fairly crude plain clay tea pot from a box - Tulrissians not being known for their tea - along with 6 small simple cups.
Once done he spends a couple of moments jotting something down on a piece of parchment before handing it to you. "That should run you 874 gold."
Brannik counts out the payment twice before handing it over to Hamlin. "Here you go. Thanks for the supplies."
The Bull takes the dice and gives them to Adrian. "I suppose these would be well suited in your hands." Sliding the rest of the supplies into his pack and taking a moment to organize it, he eventually places it back over his shoulders and belts it down.
"Well, then," Brannik says, turning toward his companions. "Any more business in town?"
"It wouldn't hurt to listen around for news of the war," Wes replies to the dwarf as they exit the general store. "Better than leaving our fate entirely to a pair of dice, I should think. Perhaps a local barkeep's got the answers we seek." He looks down the road, trying to spot a nearby inn or tavern they might patronize for news or rumor.
"As long as we don't have to drink with soldiers," Brannik says. "You Tulrissians get real cocky when pissed. And cocky, pissed soldiers like to pick fights."
He takes a deep breath and sighs, reminding himself of far too many examples. "Now, bein' the only dwarf in the room, I'm sure you can understand my hesitation."
Opposite Hamlin's Provisions, next to the alleyway where you found the Alchemist's shop, stands The Stag's Head Inn - judging by the faded sign which hangs from the upper floor. The rest of your vicinity seems devoid of any other inns or taverns but there would likely be at least a couple more in a town of this size.
Adrian looks the dice over when Brannik hands them to him, nodding to the dwarf. He places them in his belt pouch after a moment, tapping the side to make sure they are secure. Well, let's hope the magic works.
"Just as long as no one recognizes us, we should be fine," he says, not keen on showing his face around too many soldiers. "I don't know about you two, but I am not exactly inconspicuous. One look at the foreigner with weird clothes and a curvy sword and they are sure to put two and two together. Might be best if stick to the back, or even sit it out entirely."
"Fair point, Wind Dancer," Brannik says with a smile as he cocks an eye back over Adrian's clothing. "Long as we're quiet, respectful, and casual, it shouldn't be a problem."
He pauses. "And if it is, I'm quite sure the six of us are well equipped to sort it out."
"We could always buy you typical Tulrissian garb for trips into town," Wes says as Wind Dancer expresses concern over how his appearance might be perceived. Are Tulrissians truly so unwelcoming to foreigners? I suppose it is a time of war, though.
"Nah, I tried that once. Can't move the same way in it. I'd be more the 'Wind Flailer' at best. I will just stick to letting the two of you do most of the talking." he responds, giving a cheeky grin.
"Take it from me, Adrian. You can immigrate and live here for as long as you like, but you still won't be seen the same," Brannik says with a shrug. "Plus, you know I do most of my talking with my hammer. Wes is our best option."
Wes shrugs at his companion's comments. "Fair enough. I can do the talking," he says, making his way towards the Stag's Head. "The lot of Tulrisse isn't as welcoming as Menora, that's for certain." With Bal next door and the visitors from across the world, how could it not be welcoming?
"Ain't as stuffy, though, either," Brannik adds. "You know I spent time there, too? Studied for a few years. Well before your time, lad, but I'm sure that old tower hasn't changed a bit since."
"You did?" Chloë asks, seeming excited to hear that another of the group had spent time in her hometown. "How did you like it?" she asks, seeming genuinely interested in hearing the man's opinion.
You continue your conversation as you step into the Stag's Head Inn. You find yourself in a large room adorned with many mounted antlers and other hides displayed on the walls. A few soldiers sit by a large fire place at the far end of the room, while a couple of local townsfolk are sat at the bar chatting with the bartender, who pays you little attention as you walk in.
"Order us a round, will you kid?" Brannik asks Gemma as he eyes the soldiers warily.
"You're capable yourself."
"Just listen to me on this one," he growls impatiently. "No joking around."
Gemma nods with a sigh, stepping up to the bar to order.
Brannik cautiously makes his way toward a large table in the back, minding his own business as he goes, motioning for Chloe to follow him. "Well, it was a big change of pace from Bal, you know," he mentions to her quietly. "Didn't like it at first. Academics are proper gits. And the city? Too loud, too bright."
The dwarf sighs. "But it grew on me, you know? Menora's edges softened. In fact, the experience convinced me to spend some more time out here in your heartland." He pulls a chair out for Chloe, then one for himself, before taking a seat and looking out across the tavern. "And, as you know, it led me here. Right where I need to be."
"I can see that," the young woman responds, eager to hear another foreigner's opinion of her homeland's capital. "I honestly kind of agree. I didn't grow up there, so it was a shock to me too when I first saw it. What an imposing place it was," she says, trailing off as she realizes that it might not be best to elaborate further.
While his paramour talks with Brannik, Adrian chooses to step to the bar as well. "Got anything unique?" he asks, having long since given up on the standard ales of Tulrisse. "The stranger and more exotic the better," he says, hoping something in this place would give the same sort of kick the drinks at home did.
Wes takes a seat with Brannik, listening to him weave the tale of his earlier days in Menora. "I'm afraid those academics haven't gotten much better. They're always sticklers for the rules. Protocol, or whatever they might call it." He chuckles slightly, thinking back on his own days spent at the Tower. "Having grown up there, it's always felt like home to me. I've missed it. We'll have to take a trip there together, once this is all over," he says with a smile, looking over his two companions.
He gets up from his seat, glancing over to the soldiers by the fire. "Those soldiers might be a good place to start, unless you think it's too risky. But we got into the city fine, didn't we?"
"Rules don't bother Ballians like myself. No, it was the arcane supremacy. I mean, no offense to you and your kinsmen, but magic don't simply make a man a better fighter. I mean, it can, and often it does, but not by itself, and not without real combat training." He sits up in his chair, hoping to explain further. "Look, right? All those academics who've never touched a damn sword, axe, spear, hammer, they rattle on about 'you do this trick, and you'll beat any tin-head soldier,' or 'do that, and you won't need a shield.'"
The dwarf shakes his head in disagreement. "No. The bastards have no right. Martial training is just as important. Show me the best swordsman in the world and I'll bet you he doesn't have the kind of magical means we have, Wes. Just perfect fundamentals, and pure talent. You follow me? THAT'S why I left."
Brannik eyes the soldiers once more. "Got in fine," he agrees. "Doesn't mean we'll get out fine. Just be careful, okay? Maybe order them a round for doing right by the 'King'. Just make sure to say the right one."
The knight leans back onto the table for a moment, smirking at the dwarf's rantings and ravings over his home. Such passion over this, even after all these years. He touches the hilt on his waist and says, "It sounds like you could've learned more from the Arcane Knights then. Why use one or the other when you can use both? Maybe I can teach you a thing or two."
He nods to the dwarf and makes his way towards the counter, waiting for the barkeep to take care of Gemma's order before placing his own.
"Do I look like a barmaid to you Old Man?" Gemma says as she arrives back at the table with three tankards of ale in each hand just as Brannik mentions buying a round for the soldiers. She places them down in front of each of you before taking a seat herself.
"Hah, sounds like a deal, Wes. You bring me back up to speed on your arcane techniques, and I'll do my best to show you how to draw your strength from the rock and stone beneath us."
As his mentee approaches with liquid relief, Brannik sighs and grabs a tankard. "No, Gemma, you don't. You're a warrior of the highest caliber." He shrugs. "Just trying to keep a low profile. Plus, if you don't like it, find a squire. Owin's got potential. "
"I could give you some tips as well," Chloë responds, eager to get to know her companions a little better. She glances over towards Adrian, curious if he will join them at the table anytime soon.
With Adrian's request taken care of, Wes looks towards the barkeep and smiles. "A round of your finest, or strongest, for those fine soldiers," he says, gesturing over to the few gathered around the fireplace. Loose lips could work to our advantage. That, plus some Wesley charm, what could go wrong?
