Quest [Moderated Event] A Bumpy Road (Trip to Zeltiva)

[Reflection]

Word had begun to spread, there were visitors in Syliras from Zeltiva. Now, it wasn't put out that the persons were from Zeltiva; Or that there were visitors in general. But, everyone knew. After living in close quarters with so many people, it would be difficult not to find out when someone from out of town had arrived. Especially when their clothing and mannerisms held them so starkly against the common folk.

Eyes had followed the small band from the gates, once they’d gotten their admittance. No one moved to assist or speak with any of them. Instead most continued with their day's work but kept a leery eye to the newcomers. As was custom when outsiders visited.

The team of travelers talked amongst themselves, their words barely audible above the cacophony of busy bodies. Their path guided them through the sea of people as their feet carried them toward the office of the Grand Master.

As they moved, despite the continued audience, it was unapparent to their direction until they went to knock on the door. If anyone had watched only long enough to see who they were it wouldn’t be obvious that they had important matters to attend.

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A few days had passed and most that had witnessed the newcomers forgot about the event. In some circles, it was still whispered about, but the general populace was more concerned with meeting day to day requirements to guarantee a comfortable winter.

There was rumor going around that the city was being attacked. Some had heard that it was bandits, and they were there to kill the Grand Master. Others were a little less imaginative and chalked it up to council meetings.

They weren’t far off.

Only two days later it was posted on the boards just near the entrance gate that abled bodies were in need to travel with the merchants to Zeltiva. The post reading as such to all who viewed:

Here ye! Here ye!

This is a summons for any abled bodied man, woman or child to accompany the five merchants of Zeltiva in a humanitarian task. This will be no easy task and any faint of heart, weak willed, or underskilled will not be accepted.

Report to the merchant's caravan on the 39th day of the Watchtowers yellow gaze at the Main Gate entrance to the City.

Departure will be promptly as Syna’s light breaks the horizon. Any who wish to participate need to arrive prepared for a long journey before such time occurs.

Grandmaster

Loren Dyres

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As promised on the bulletin per the Grandmaster himself the five merchants readied themselves for the long, dangerous journey back to Zeltiva. Barely having a break from when they had arrived at the gates.

Two of the men stood at the back of the wagon, watching as another shorter man with thinning hair tried to shove a pack of apples under the heavy canvas. Sweat had begun to bead on his forehead despite the slight chill in the air.

A soft glow of light started, but the sun had not yet broken the horizon. The result were soft hues of oranges, deep purples, and thick pinks washed across the sky as though someone has wiped watercolors across. Only a few fat fluffy clouds sat low in the air, ensuring a clear sky and what the travelers hoped was a good sign of no future storms.

The men watched as they whispered to each other.

“I think we got some good weather ‘for this trip. I’m glad we gots the Grandmaster to help us out… I don’t think we coulda done it with just us,” a rough hand scratched at a three-day old beard as his companion developed a thoughtful look on his face.

“Yep. I agree. Couldn’t’ve done it,” the other man nodded.

“This it’s gunna be pretty hot though,” the man spit off to the side, a large glomp of saliva and snot pooling at the shorter man’s foot.

“Yep. Pretty hot.”

“Honest, if they weren’t payin me though I don’t think I would’ve ever volunteered. Well… except we got to meet the Grandmaster of Syliras and the Lord Council of Zeltiva. Bet you can’t name off people for how many fingers you got on one hand!”

“Yep! Lotsa money and fancy people!” His compadre mimicked the first man's excitement.

It was at that moment that the group of men all turned their head as a few locals approached. The two gossiping narrowed their eyes together, the other three just looking on to see if those approaching were going to be traveling with or not. As the group moved closer the two shifted from the spot they'd whence they'd been previously rooted. Their faces were wide with toothy grins and hands ready to clap the shoulder of any who'd decided to join their ragtag gang.

[Saga]

It was the white haired Akontak that led the way to the group he was to be traveling with. Clad in steel armor but decided to keep his helmet off, the weather was at a good place. On his white sash tied around his waist were two weapons a longer and more elegant Katana and a Wakazashi. He was however extremely noticeable, a few inches from 7 feet tall he could be seen in any crowd, and not most could identify him. The People of Syliras weren't accustomed to seeing an Akontak, not many visited. The looks of wonderment at seeing a Knight and an Akontak shown on the merchants face as he trotted by on his horse Red. Saga was here to do a job. With increased bandit activity the Grandmaster himself Loren Dyres left his own request to have these merchants escorted to Zeltiva. He had never met Lord Dyres but he was intrigued to pick the mind of a Grandmaster one day. The beautiful red hue of the Sungold was radiant and very hard to miss. Grins were shared around as the merchants recovered their initial shock and one of them said, "Great to have you Knight. Ser?" He stuck out a hand which Saga graciously clasped back leaning over his horse. "I am Syliran Knight Saga Otor. I will be escorting you all on your journey. Pleasure too meet you all."

[Imellion]

Steel-shod hooves echoed against the stones as Imellion rode down towards the gate. She barely heard it, wrapped as deeply in thought as she was. Citizens and pedestrians slipped out of her way as the mare picked her way towards the gate. The sun had not yet risen, so all was cloaked in velvet shadow.

Her first mission beyond the city. Her first trip beyond the city since she had arrived, in fact. Sera Lyonia finally trusted her readiness, not so much for the danger, but to be a member of a caravan once more. Not a slave caravan, thank Priskil, but still a caravan. She knew caravan life, had lived it for years. And here she was again, but as a guard now.

Her helmet, for she was in plate armor for this trip, hung on saddle-horn. As they grew farther from the city, given the bandit activity, she would put it on. Her hair was up in a braid that curled around her scalp, ready to act as extra cushion against the helmet. A longsword hung at her hip, while a large wooden shield was buckled to her arm, and a spear carried in her right hand.

She appeared a knight now. More importantly, Imellion felt like a knight now. Most of her clothes, except for her dress, were packed in a bundle, along with rations provided by the knights, and her backpack. It felt heavy, but then, most expeditions felt heavy. The chain and padded linen armor beneath the plate didn't help much either.

She pulled back on the reins as she reached the caravan, letting the others watch the other traveler. A Full knight on a beautiful horse. Now that was a wonderful thing, especially as he looked Akalak. Not entirely though, something was different, but Imellion couldn't figure out what. It would probably come out in time though.

Now the other merchants turned to look at her, and Imellion dipped her head in greeting.

"I'm Imellion, and I shall also be accompanying you. It is an honor to assist in this endeavor. I have..." She paused to try to think of how to word it. "Years of caravan life experience and surviving in the wild, if those skills might be of use as well."

She turned back behind her for a quick moment to see who else might be joining them. No sign, as of yet, but that was okay. She could wait for as long as the caravan desired. She wasn't entirely sure how long it was supposed to take to reach Zeltiva and back, but she didn't think you could do it quickly.

Textbox by Aydel

[Reflection]

The caravan finished the task of preparations as the rays of light broke the horizon. Doves cooed softly in the rafters nearby as they began to wake for the day. As the white haired Akontak approached, he would notice that the man who’d greeted him had more than a few teeth missing. The ones that were still present were stuck at strange angles. The other man who’d tagged along next to his partner wasn’t much better looking although he had most of his teeth.

The two would wave him forward to join the group and hollered for the caravan leader, Dunae, to join them. As the older man hobbled over, his long gray hair blowing behind his head, another joined the group with the man on the horse. As she joined so did an old gentleman.

A harsh, raspy voice, mostly due to years of puffing on a pipe, escaped his lips, “I, am Dunae. I, shall be your guide, for the caravan.” He gave a rough cough and continued, “If there, are any issues, you can, come to me.” Labored breathing made his sentences choppy, but despite his sound of frailty he had a twinkle of life in his eyes, the corners wrinkled with a smile.

The old man turned from the pair of Sylirans and the fellow Zeltivans and headed back to the seat at the forefront of the caravan. After he'd settled a high piercing, whistle came from between two fingers wedged in his mouth. The sound of horses whining and their metaled hoofs clanked against the cobblestone. A slow forward momentum began. Stragglers that were trying to finish loading threw the rest of their things aboard and hopped onto the side of the wagon.

Squinting from under the bushy brow, Dunae turned to inspect the two that had joined. It would appear as though he were scrutinizing them, trying to determine their usefulness. While he gazed back over his shoulder in front of the caravan, the two buddies caused a ruckus in the back.

One punched the other in the arm as their legs and feet hung from the back of the wagon. Loud, boisterous laughs could be heard accompanying the game the two played. Clacking wheels passed through the stone and metal gates as the guards on looked. Their eyes scanned to ensure that nothing extra had joined the travelers.

Once the last wagon passed the gate the two troublemakers in the rear whooped and whistled, again, slapping each other on the back and arms. There weren’t many wagons that rumbled noisily down the dirt road, only four. Just enough to carry necessary bodies, their gear, food and a few small spaces to sleep. Along with the leader and the two men in the rear, there was a woman, tall and built. Her hands were loose on the reigns leading the second wagon. Two more people drove the rest of the carts. A last man inside the rear wagon with the two from Zeltiva.

Bodies jostled back and forth as the caravan made its slow trek a conversation could be heard from the man and woman of the center wagons. “Earl, next time just let me do it.” The large woman scowled, despite the man not being able to see her features.

“If I let you do it then you woulda been mad at me because I didn’t do it!” a loud scoff and Earl rolled his eyes at the back of the slow mode of transportation.

“Ha! You only did it, so you didn’t seem lazy, but then you didn’t even do it right anyway!”

“Well next time I let you cook dinner for the crew then,” his brows furrowed and a frown formed on his lips.

While the two in the center argued, the two at the back fooled around, the others sat silently. Except it was the turn of the old man to break the silence. His blue gaze turned to the two on horseback. “So, why did you, decide to, join us?”