Finding a Guide at the Trumpet"What if this guide doesn't want to go as far as we need to? Or he wants a huge pile of gold for his services?" Merrell asked as the walked the city streets.
"What if, is not what is. We will find the man first and then find out what IS. Then we can gather what information we can and bring it back to the others."
Cleo looks to Merrell, "who knows we might pass a magic shop."
She heads off in the best estimate of the directions given.
The pair cross the city, seeing it for the first time in the light of day. Many of the buildings that had seemed cold and closed up as they had passed in the night were now fronted by colourful awnings and the streets were fairly busy, people about their business. Following the instructions, the group pass down a street that seems pretty much dedicated to wood carvers, wood turners and other shapers and crafters of wooded items of beauty, many of them exercising their craft literally on the pavement, filling the air with the smell of cut wood and sawdust. [Private to Merrell: Seeing the craftsmen at work, Merrell remembers the small enchanted knife of wood carving that Cleo had found and given to him back in Kheizar Dalan and wonders if any of the locals also had tools that were similarly enchanted.]
Passing the Circle, and the impressive castle and seat of local government, the pair notice that the two wagons belonging to Redmane were still parked where they had left them the night before - of Redmane or his two men there was no sign however.
The two continue back up the street they had travelled the night before - finally reaching the East Gate, where they turn right and follow the city wall - or at least the inner city wall they realise as they remember the "man-eating eel filled moat" in between the two city walls. Finally, they spot a huge seven foot long horn adorning a building. They had arrived at the Trumpet.
Merrell looked at Cleo and shrugged, "I guess we're here, " he said pointing to the overly large horn, "not very subtle is it?"
"Let's not tell these folks too much about our situation." he said taking Cleo and squeezing her hand gently before letting it go. "I am sorry about not telling you about Milo's problem. It won't happen again."
The skinny mage walked through the door of the Trumpet and looked around letting his eyes adjust to the change in light. He abscent-mindedly pulled his sleeves down making sure they covered the sigils he knew would draw unwanted attention.
"It's for those who can't read," she says. "You do the talking I'll do the listening." she replies. "And apology accepted."
The inside of the Trumpet looks more like a traditional inn compared to the castle like Baldiver's with its tall ceilings and heavy stone walls. Here, the walls are all wood panelled, and dark black beams cross the ceiling, inter-spaced with plaster, yellowed by age and the smoke from the fireplace and pipes. It has a warm cosy atmosphere - and even at this early hour of the day is not completely empty. One sole customer sits in the far corner of the taproom, facing towards the entrance though his face is hidden within the darkness of the hood of his dark cloak. On the table in front of him sits a plate with a hunk of half-eaten bread, a bowl of something and a clay mug. His feet are up resting on a nearby stool and a small swirl of smoke wreaths its way from his hood. As they look on, a faint glow from a pipe illuminates the hood for a moment, reflections glinting in a pair of eyes watching them before disappearing back into darkness.
As
the door closes behind them, a large well muscled man wearing an apron steps
out from a doorway behind the bar, wiping his hands on a towel. "Morning
to you, sir, madam, welcome to the Trumpet" he says, nodding to them.
He glances briefly towards the cloaked man and then back to them, smiling
broadly. "How can I help you?" he asks in a friendly manner.
Merrell returned the man's smile and greeting. "And a good morning to you sir." he said politely. "My name is Merrell Greenwood. We were sent here to look for a gentleman named Gaurlar Darym. The Concierge at Baldiver's said he might be a fellow that could help us." the mage said pausing. "Might you be the gentleman in question sir?”
Cleo half coughs at Merrell's last words, clearly the man was not Gaurlar, not with that apron on. She looks about and her eyes go to the only other occupant in the tavern. After a few moments of observation, she silently puts her money on the dark cloaked figure.
The barkeeper listens as Merrell introduces himself, a slight smile appearing at the mention of the Concierge at Baldiver's. "Ay, I be Gaurlar" replies the man, losing Cleo's silent bet with herself. "Though if I can help you all depends on what sort of help you be needing"
Now that Cleo and Merrell look at the man more closely, they can see that his skin is marked here and there by old scars, battle wounds that tell of a life and experience beyond that normally found behind the bar or in the kitchens of an inn.
"Well met sir." Merrell replied smiling. "As I said the Concierge at Baldiver's told me you might be able to help us. My associates and I wish to embark on a long journey into the heart of the Dales. Since none of us have ever traveled the way before we were hoping to hire a guide."
"The Concierge at Baldiver's also said if anyone here in the city would know of a stout hearted adventurer that could serve this purpose it would be you." Merrell paused, then looked at the hooded gentleman sitting off in the corner. "It was rumored that a ranger named Mosstreader might be here, and might be the sort of fellow we were looking for."
"The heart of the dales?" queries Gaurlar. "Do you mean the Dalelands in the Heartlands? The other side of Anauroch?" he asks. "Phew! That is a long journey!" He pushes his hand through his hair for a moment. "Not sure there are many who would undertake a journey so long" he says. "Mosstrider was in the city yesterday - though he left this morning. Not sure when he'll be back but I can certainly let him know you were asking after him when he does as he usually stays here."
He frowns in thought for a moment, the glances over his shoulder towards the cloaked figure in the corner of the inn. Turning back to the pair he lowers his voice slightly. "You might want to ask him - he's only been in town for a short while, but I understand he has come up from the south - probably from Loudwater... He's a ranger type."
Merrell nodded, "I see, and I thank you for your help. If you would, please bring me and my associate," he said looking at Cleo, "a glass of wine. And bring that gentleman whatever he's having."
Merrell walked over to the table where the ranger was sitting. "Well met sir, I am Merrell Greenwood, and this is Cleo. We represent a group of travelers that are looking to aquire the services of a guide to the Dalelands. We were looking for a fellow named Mosstreader, but we have been informed that he has left."
"Master Darym has indicated that you have just recently arrived from the South and therefore may perhaps be able to act as a guide for us." Merrell paused, then asked. "May we join you to discuss this matter, or have I come to the wrong place?"
The innkeeper raises an eyebrow at the request for wine so early in the morning, but shrugs. "No problem, be with you in a minute."
As
Merrell approaches the man, and introduces himself and Cleo, the man doesn't
initially seem to react at all, taking a draw on his pipe and listening
to Merrell's words as he watching the two of them from under his dark hood,
his own eyes hidden.
As the bookworm mage concludes with his question, the man lowers his pipe, exhaling a cloud of smoke. Shifting himself slightly, he removes his boot from the stool and kicks it nearer to Merrell. "Sure, ve can discuss eet" he drawls, his accent somewhat strange and hard to place. "Dalelands you zay? Long vay dat. Very long vay. But not an impossible journey. Must be a strong need dat drives you to travel such a long vay."
He pauses to draw on his pipe again and at that moment Gaurlar walks up and places two glasses of wine onto the table. The hooded stranger waves away the offer of a drink and remains silent as Gaurlar retreats back to the bar area.
"How many of you are dere?" he asks.
Merrell took the stool the hooded stranger kicked his way and slid it to Cleo, then grabbed another stool for himself, and sat down. When Gaular returned with the wine the half-elf took the glass from the retired adventurer. "Thank you master Darym. I know it seems a bit strange drinking wine at this hour, but many times it is safer to drink wine than the local water."
Then Merrell turned his attention back to the hooded man. "Yes, we are aware that the Dalelands are a long journey. While myself and my associates could make such a journey without a guide, it seemed more prudent to find someone to guide us around unpleasnt things that could be avoided all together, had we known the area ourselves."
"There are nine of us in total. And our reasons for traveling to the Dalelands are our own." Merrell looked at Cleo then back to the hooded stranger.
The
hooded man seems to think for a moment, taking another slow draw on his
pipe. "I know some of der lands you vould have to pass through..."
he says after a moment. Sitting up slightly straighter, he pushes back his
hood to reveal a face more youthful than Merrell and Cleo had imagined,
with somewhat dishevelled blond hair and blue eyes. "You say dere are
nine of you?" he continues. "Are dere more wielders of the arcane
art like you amongst dem? And warriors like you?" he adds, addressing
Cleo.
He raises a hand and strokes his neck and chest for a moment, almost as if he is feeling for a medallion or something under his clothing as he muses aloud. "Dose who seek dere fortune by spell and blade often make safer travelling companions" he says, "Dough dey can just as easily attract more trouble dan not."
He cocks his head slightly and looks between them, his gaze seeming to weigh them up. "Do you attract trouble? Do you 'ave any, how you say eet? Skeletons in your cupboards dat I should know about before I offer my service?"
Cleo sits and looks at the young man.
"Only skeleton's I've met are now crushed or dust." replies Cleo. "As far as I know we have no active enemy following us. Though...." she looks at Merrell, "some of our number do not suffer those who do evil, cause pain and misfortune on others. so there are pauses and detours at times."
The young man frowns slighty, removing the hand from his chest and leaning back a little. "I'm not so sure I believe you" he says flatly. "Everyone has enemies - perhaps you should think again..."
Merrell unconsciously pulled at his mustache as the ranger was talking. When Cleo interjected in the conversation the half-elf said nothing but waited to see what the ranger's reaction to her words would be.
When they had both finished talking Merrell spoke again, "To answer your inquiry, yes within those of us who travel together, there are others like myself who study the arcane arts, and we have more warriors in our party as well. We also have a priest and healer."
"You are correct, we have many enemies. Some of them are very powerful, though Cleo I believe is right in stating that none of them actively peruse us at the moment. Any that have done so, have ended up passing to the other side." Merrell said smirking slightly.
"If you can guide us you will be afforded every protection we have to offer. There is risk to any venture is there not?" Merrell smiled and decided to change tactics a bit. "Have you by chance heard of a place called Kheizar Dalan?"
"What he said," she pointed to Merrell as he beat her to the answering of the man's question. Now usually she was a quiet sort, but she had had a good reply ready for him, only to be preempted by Merrell's reply.
She sipped her wine and looked about the room.
Merrell smiled and put his hand gently on Cleo's briefly, and gently squeezed before he returned his attention to Friste. "We are the group of adventurers who found and dared to enter the depths of Kheizar Dalan. Alive we exited those halls, and alive we shall cross the vast expanse of the realm to travel to the Dalelands." Merrell sipped his wine, before continuing. "Either you can join us, and act as our guide, or you do not. The choice is simple as that."
"Kheizar Dalan?" He shrugs, sounding unimpressed. "So you are de Unknowns" he says. He nods slowly, more to himself than Cleo or Merrell and takes another puff of his pipe. "Ya, I heard off you." He leans forward again. "Vhen do you vant to leave?" he asks, glancing between them.
Merrell nodded at the ranger's quetion. "Aye, for lack of a better name." the half-elf said smirking to himself. "The fact that you have heard of us should let you know that we are able to back up our end of this bargin."
"We're going to want to leave soon. At least within the next day or so unless we are held up by any unforseen problems. My other associates are getting the necissary supplies and mounts even now." the mage said looking the gentleman in the eye.
"I suppose we need to discuss price, if you're willing to act as our guide. We understand that you'd be risking much, the same as we are all doing, and we would not expect you to do so without fair compensation." Merrell took a long drink of wine, then sat his glass on the table and waited for the man's reply.
"Cost? Ah yes, vat do you sink is reazonable?" He replaces his pipe in his mouth and takes another long draw before lowering it. "I sink dat mebee twenty gold a day vould be good." He looks between the two of them. "Is dat ok?" he asks. "I can be ready to leave tomorrow if you vish."
Cleo's eyes went wide, "We could rent a palace for that price!"
Radlee raises an eyebrow. "Cheap palace" he comments, then shrugs.
"Mebbe a palace, but safe in palace." He jerks a thumb at the
wall. "Out there, in de vilderness, the vorld is not so safe. Call
eet danger money."
Merrell played with his mustache a while running the numbers over in his head. He knew the group wouldn't have any trouble coming up with a sum of money that large but he wasn't really used to having that much to spend. Adventuring, and being good it had paid well for the Unknowns. Most people wouldn't see 1,000 gold in a year let alone two months, some would never see that much money in a lifetime.
"I figure that to be about 1,000 gold for near two months of work, give or take." Merrell said flatly. "Are you equiped for such a journey? Or do you need to buy supplies?" Merrell drank the last of his wine.
"Master Darym, I believe I'll have another glass of wine if you please. And bring Cleo and the ranger here anything else they want." Merrell said looking at the innkeeper. Then the mage turned back to the ranger. "As far as I am concerned you have the job. Do you have a name sir? Or shall I keep calling you ranger?" he said smiling at the man.
The man laughs briefly. "My name is Radlee Friste. You can call me Friste" he says. "I can leave two days. Maybe even tomorrow." He shrugs momentarily. "I have small business to finish before ve leave" he adds as if by way of explanation.
He takes a puff of his pipe. "Vat do you know about da route?" he asks.
"Well, nice to meet you Friste." Merrell said holding our his hand. "As I said before I am Merrell Greenwood. You can call me Merrell."
As to the question about the route Merrell shakes his head. "I'm affraid you'll have to take that up with the others in the group. I know vaguely we are going sort of South-westish. Unfortunately I haven't had time to study the maps yet."
Merrell smiled, "Orienteering isn't one of my stronger skills. I can read a map well enough, but my arcane skills take priority."
"You can find us at Baldiver's, the Concierge will know where we are." Merrell said sipping his new glass of wine. "Why don't you drop by this evening and meet with the rest of us before you decide for sure."
Friste looks at Merrell's extended hand for a moment, almost as if he didn't know what to do with it, and there is an awkward pause for a second before he reaches out and shakes Merrell's fingers, barely grasping the mage's hand.
When Merrell mentions that he believes the group are due to be heading south-west, Friste shrugs. "Ya, dat sounds right" he says. "South-east is da riskier route" he adds. "Hellgate keep is still a dangerous place to pass near. Da safer route, though longer, vould be round da west and south side of der High Forest and south-west is a good start - towards Jalanthar"
"Do not ever ask Merrell about directions," Cleo breaks her silence. "We are in the process of gathering maps and information about the trip." It was really south-east, but she refrains from giving out informations to an unknown.
"Well Friste, we should be getting back. Like I said, why don't you come by Baldiver's tis evening and get aquainted with the rest of the group." Merrell looked to see if Cleo had anything else to add.
The skinny mage stood, "Until then sir." he said nodding slightly.
Then he looked around for Gaular again, "Master Darym, could you give me directions to a mages shop or guild here in town. I need to pick up a few things before we leave."
"I have some uder business to attend to dis evening" apologies Friste. "But leave a message vid der Innkeeper here to confirm ven you vish to leave and I vill make sure I am ready."
Gaurlar frowns. "Not too many shops dedicated to mages in Sundarbar I'm afraid. Silverymoon is the place for that!" he adds with a rye smile. "But the nearest there is to what you are probably looking for is Furjar the Flippant. A strange character who has some sort of way of getting all sorts of specialist stuff from Waterdeep I believe - usually within a day or so of asking!"
He leans closer to Merrell, lowering his voice. "Did you come to some arrangement with him?" he asks, flicking his eyes towards the far corner where Friste still sat, his face now hidden again in the depths of his hood. "Or do you want me to still give a message to Mosstreader when I see him?" he asks.
Merrell leaned in. "We've agreed on a price. Unfortunately we don't have the time to wait for this Mosstreader fellow to come back." the skinny mage said softly. "This fellow seems nice enough, thought if he's traveling with us he'll likely earn every coppers worth of that price."
"I thank you for your hospitality Master Darym." Merrell said gently placing two gold coins on the counter. "And for the information. Perhaps we'll meet again sometime."
"Many thanks" replies Gaurlar, palming the coins. "Good luck and have a safe journey. Remember to come stay here next time you visit Sundabar!" he calls after Merrell and Cleo as they exit the Trumpet.
Cleo is not sure about what Merrell had done, this was not the man recommended to them, The bar keeper seemed to not know him. There was not much to go on for picking someone to lead them on a long dangerous trip to the south-east.
Once they leave the tavern, on there way to the magic shop, she voices her concern.
"You should not have sealed the deal yet, I for one and will assume the others will have questions for the man. And we may not be ready to go tomorrow. It will depend of a number of things."