Turn 97 -- Druckner & Gnore Take Leave

8th day of Alturiak. Noon. Baron of Mutton.

Following the burial of Randor and the noon meal, the members of the Company gather around the table to discuss the securing of provisions for the journey underground. Druckner and Gnore have decided to travel to Shadowdale to procure the majority of the goods needed by the group. Gnore rises from the table eager to start his trek to Shadowdale. He looks towards the leader of the company with a thoughtful frown.

"Talimar, should Druckner and I meet you all back here so we can organize ourselves or shall we do that elsewhere? If we meet back here, in Milbourne, I'll buy the items I can get here when we return. And how many days are Druckner and I allowed away?"

Talimar thinks for a moment before replying, "It would take you about two days to travel each way, and a couple of days to obtain the supplies. Let's say that everyone gets back here in seven days. I suggest you get everyone's shopping list and some money from Ras and get going."

"Say, Druck," interrupts Ortho, "since Ah can't get a spare battleaxe here would ye pick one up fer me in Shadowdale? And eight or ten hand-axes, too. Ah tend ta lose those."

Druckner pulls out a small piece of paper and a coal pencil and writes slowly but surely (in dwarvish runes of course) at the bottom of his own long list of supplies:

1 battle-axe and 10 hand-axes for Ortho.

"Sure thing Ortho, Ah'll buy two pack mules ta brang the stuff back from Shadowdale and gae back inta the mines. Ah've got a whole bunch a stuff I'm buying too." Druckner pulls out a heavy pouch and jiggles it, "Ras gave me all I need."

"Hold it," protests Gnore as Druckner jiggles his pouch. "This is not a free bank of wealth kin Ortho. We need the gold for your weapons, ya sly fox." Gnore smiles then turns to the rest of the group, "Anyone else need anything? Speak up now." The others begin mentioning various tools and mining equipment for the two dwarves to pick up in Shadowdale. As the list grows Gnore hopes that Druckner writes everything down. At the same time, Gnore frowns and rubs his chin in anguish trying to remember everyone's order. Finally, Gnore huffs and yells out, "Slow down! I'm only one damn dwarf! And don't think I'm a blasted charity...where's your gold?!"

As the orders are being given, Talimar decides to bring up another point, "As for the magical items we...acquired; there are several, such as the spears which no one in the party seems interested in using. I do not believe we should sell them." With a gesture at Snagger, "We have new members joining the party who could benefit from their use. Or we could give them as gifts to those who aid us. Either way, there is little chance for getting much coin from them, so lets realize their value in other ways."

"Ah agree," states Ortho flatly. "An' the chainmail too. Ah can't believe we'll never meet a human that wouldn't appreciate it."

"I don' mind givin' away stuff fer a good reason," begins Druckner, "but let's not get inta the habit of givin' for givin's sake, by Moraddin! That's unhealthy and unnatural!" Druckner turns a bit red as he starts to think about the prospect of the company's wealthy being given away by soft-hearted elves.

"Aye and they better understand that," agrees Gnore. "If they leave the company, they give the stuff back. Or we take it back!" Gnore huffs having strained his brain with everyone's shopping list.

"Well then, we're agreed, sort of," replies Talimar. "We won't sell any of the magical items but hold on to them for others."

"We better get goin' Gnore," begins Druckner as he finishes his list, "or we'll never make it back in time." Druckner looks at the sun and frowns since he was planning on leaving at dawn.

Nodding to the others, the two dwarves rise and make their way from the Baron of Mutton. Within moments the two are on their ponies and heading west from Milbourne, their possessions stowed away and the shopping list secure.

The weather is perfect as the two head for Shadowdale. A slight breeze blows that carries a chill with it but the heavy cloaks of the dwarves keep them warm. No cloud obscures the sky so there is no threat of snow or rain. About a mile outside of Milbourne, Druckner pulls forth a large wineskin and with a broad grin tosses it to Gnore.

"Well, if yer gonna twist me arm," states Gnore with a smile as he unstoppers the flask and takes a long drink.

The rest of the afternoon passes rather peacefully as the two head west, each trading stories of their past and their travels across the lands of Faerun; the wine one again loosening the tongue of the normally stoic Gnore. Several times they pass travelers heading east, some merchants and caravans of which Druckner takes particular note, other times lone travelers. With each group met, the two dwarves stop and chat, asking of any news of kidnappings in the area, missing mages, and dwarves in general. Most of the travelers have heard of the kidnappings and several of the merchant caravans appear loaded with more guards than normal for the area. Apparently there have been other kidnappings outside the area of Haranshire, the majority of them involving mages or priests.

Not much news of dwarves to report in the area and the two don't meet any travelling west. Ironically, the only news of dwarves in the area centers around tales of a quartet of dwarves travelling with a band known as the Red Feather Company. Druckner and Gnore both smile to themselves as they hear the tales of the company, keeping their identity hidden for the moment as they travel. Apparently the exploits of the Company have traveled far as the group hears tales from a merchant caravan from Cormyr.

The two dwarves travel a good hour past nightfall as they try and make up time for leaving well past noon. Finally deciding to stop and not risk an injury to the ponies, the two stop in a stand of trees that offer them some protection. Taking a split shift guard duty, the two manage to get a good night's rest while feeling secure under the watchful eye of his companion.

9th day of Alturiak. Road to Shadowdale.

Rising before dawn the next day, the two quietly set out on the road again. Picking up the pace a bit this day, they don't stop and speak with every caravan or individual moving on the road, hoping to reach Shadowdale before nightfall. No new information is heard this day from any of the passersby, the same stories of the previous day repeated.

Just at dusk, riding into a beautiful sunset over the treetops, the two reach the outlying farms of Shadowdale. Spirits rising at the prospect of a frothy mug of ale at the Old Skull Inn, they spur on their mounts. Just as true night falls, the companions pull up to the wooden structure known throughout the realms as the Old Skull Inn. Walking the ponies around to the stables, Druckner and Gnore leave their mounts with the stablemaster, Bardag Shultu. Slinging their gear and saddlebags over their shoulders, they make their way into the taproom of the inn.

Walking through the wooden doors of the inn, they find the taproom full to near capacity. All of the tables are taken up by townsfolk, adventurous types, merchant guards, or weary travelers. None of the patrons of the inn catch their eye, save one individual sitting alone at a table to the left of the front door. The man has his back to the wall, eyes on the doorway. Young for a human, his early twenties or so they guess, he has curly black hair and a thin beard and tan skin. Sembian apparently, he sits with a longsword draped over the back of the chair for ease of draw. A rather fine longbow is propped against the back wall to his right with the quiver of arrows next to it. The man sticks out to the two dwarves because of his apparent unease inside the inn. His eyes constantly scan the patrons in the inn as well as the doorway as he sips from the mug before him.

Ignoring the man for now, the two dwarves make their way to the bar to try and wash away the dirt of the trail. Stepping up to the bar, Gnore and Druckner quickly eye the unmistakable owner of the Old Skull Inn, Jhaele Silvermane. A leather apron hangs under a white blouse and leather skirt as she wipes down the bar, a smile to the two dwarves.

"What'll it be," she asks.