Campaign Logs

Champions of the Silver Wyrm

By Scott Kujawa

Part 4

Date: 7th day of the 1st tenday of Mirtul in the year 1375 - The Year of Risen Elfkin
Time: Early Morning to Evening
Location: Wilds outside of the mercenary settlement on the way to Shadowdale.
Weather: Above Average and Overcast.

Luie checked on the wound to see that it has stopped bleeding but he still got a fresh bandage after he woke. Once the bandage was secured he had a quick breakfast as he enjoyed the sunrise while drinking a cup of tea.

Auyaeu could be seen coming out of one of the wagons and this time she was dressed in her tight fitting fighting leathers.

After Caerlin woke at first light she checked the camp and saw that all was well. She took her symbol and sat under a tree as she prayed to Mielikki for guidance of her arrows and path. After her prayers, she joined her companions for dawnfry. As she sat down she greeted each one with a smile and then looked up at the sky. "A bit overcast this morning," she stated to no one in particular, "it’ll be cooler traveling this day."

Luies’ voice sprang up from behind her, “You believe so?”

Caerlin turned to Luie and smiled. "Well, one can hope."

Having woken slightly later than Caerlin, Ragnar meticulously shaved off the few tiny beard-hairs that had grown out during the past day before he joined the group. "Sounds good to me, I don't like it too warm. Anyone got something other than bread at the moment?"

“All I have is a cup of tea,” Luie held the wooden cup up, displaying a fresh bandage. ”Would you like some?”

After waking up, William immediately started going through his backpack and removed some bread. “Ah, that fighting yesterday gave me an appetite.”

Luie patted his stomach before he sipped some more tea. “Bill, I am always hungry.”

The Gondsman woke with the dawn before he went about preparations for the day as he murmured prayers to his god. "My ol' da' always said that every group of soldiers had one who could whip up a feast with a great helm, a scrawny rabbit, and an old boot," the giant rumbled, pulling a slab of jerky from a wrapped package stamped with the Aurora's logo. "Have ye not requisitioned yours yet?"

“I already ate Ragnar’s boot,” Luie replied.

"Aye," Addoc rumbled around a jawful of jerky. "That's as may be, but had you one of those lads, you'd have at least had some type of sauce to go with it."

"I had no sauce but I did soak it in last night’s stew, which made it soft and chewy."

Ragnar looked down at his feet with a forlorn look before he sighed. “Aye, and those were genuine fake dragonskin boots. Has anyone asked the caravan master if she needs someone to scout out the road ahead?”

Auy slunk into camp and stood behind Ragnar before she purred out in her oddly velvet voice, which is a bit softer than the tone of voice that everyone has heard her use. "Good morning all, did everyone have a nice relaxing evening, once those pesky raiders left, that is. And why did you feel the need to eat his lovely dragonskin boots? Was the cook that bad?”

She slipped around the group and sat next to the tall human before she smiled up at him. "I hope that this seat wasn't taken... Hmm, so did you become that great cook who could whip up a lovely feast with such meager supplies?"

Caerlin started to chuckle as she enjoyed the antics of her companions.
"Not me," Addoc grumbled as he stuffed the last of the jerky in his mouth. "If my ol' mam didn't make it, and I couldn't buy it from a tavern or cart-caller, it didn't get 'et."

Once the meal was finished, the wagons were hitched and the mercenaries set out towards the west for another day of walking or riding. Caerlin spent the day speaking with members of the other Units and the slightly middle-aged female caravan master. Caerlin learned that the Dale is ruled over by Lord Mourngrym Amcathra and his wife, Shaerl Amcathra. The caravan will be in the Dale proper for four days to restock before heading back to the mercenary settlement. It is guarded by some paid troops paid for by the Lord and Lady but when war comes to the Dale, it has a citizen militia. Mostly it is just a farming settlement with a few adventuring bands that call it home. One group that she hears of is the Knights of Myth Drannor, which also sometimes guard that ruin. Another group she hears mentioned is Mane’s Band.

Caerlin also joined Miesker as the male half-wood elf moved through the open grasslands with the female human following his path and the two of them learned from each other as Caerlin asked questions.

Luie mingled among the three or four other Units and he listened to the gossip. A lot of it, it seemed, was about the Commander and he heard that she may, or may not, have been exiled from a Church on the Sword Coast for some heretic views or a liason between her and one of the leaders of the Flaming Fist of Baldur’s Gate. One of others, who is a male human, who claims to been with the mercenary company the longest, claims that she was a lover of Duke Eltan but they had a argument and she left the city.

Unlike yesterday, they had no encounters and the trip was peaceful but like yesterday, they soon made camp a few hours before the sun set.

Addoc's routine was much the same as the evening before – after he doffed his armor and brushed down his equally large horse, he checked all his equipment thoroughly, brushing away all the trail dust and checking the straps on his armor and shield, tightening the bindings on the warhammer he carried.

Once he was finally finished, he turned to the company. "If you've got any gear you want looked at," he rumbled, "I've some time before the light gets too bad. “Best to keep both blade and mind sharp, but yer mind will do in a pinch,' as my ol' da' used to say."

Caerlin looked up and smiled. "Thank you Addoc, I think I will take you up on that." She drew her longsword and handed it to him, hilt first. "It shouldn't be too bad, but it never hurts to check." She sat down, pulled her two daggers and laid them on her lap until Addoc is ready for them. She then started to check over her longbow, and her arrow supply and she saw the bow was fine but a few of her arrows could be replaced or refeathered. Caerlin got up and set her daggers on her seat before she slung her bow over her shoulder and picked up her backpack. When she returned, she retrieved her toolkit from her pack and began to re-feather the arrows. About an hour later she was satisfied that her arrows would fly straighter now that the feathers have been replaced.

“Well”, Sir William said, “If it’s no problem, please check mine too.” He handed over, hilt first, his rapier to Addoc.

Addoc performed maintenance on the party's weapons that were given to him. The giant squinted down the blade, eying its edge and checking for nicks before he settled down with a whetstone. As he carefully worked the edge to razor sharpness, Addoc rumbled, almost off-handedly "So, Caerlin, yer folk from Silverymoon or thereabouts, then?"

Caerlin looked up from working on her arrows, and raised an eyebrow at Addoc. "Aye, my father has a small farm on the edge of the Moonwood. What made you ask?"

The giant held Caerlin's blade in front of him with the blade pointing toward the sky. "That's the mark of Alyndriel, a smith thereabouts," he said, using one huge finger to indicate a mark on the blade near the cross-guard. "Does fine work from what I've seen of it. Of course, you'd have to be sure of yer craft t'use the unicorn hoof as yer mark anywhere that close to Luruar."

Caerlin smiled at Addoc's comments. "Well, that's interesting information, since I only acquired that blade less than a tenday ago. We found it in one of the ruins in Phlan."

The Gondsman nodded, his forehead wrinkling in thought. "It took quite a time of it getting back to the hands of a countryman, then. Some things got to do everything the hard way."

"Aye, some things do," Caer replied as she continued to smile.

The content of Champions of the Silver Wyrm is the property and copyright of Scott Kujawa and is not to be published or redistributed without permission.

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