[IC] Tales of Calradia (Mount and Blade, Medieval RP)

[Stekkmen]

@TheUnknowable

Roark Axeslinger

The gates of Dhirim, hang high above your head. They are stone monoliths, first built there a long, long time ago. You are equipped in full battle armor, with javelins, knives, and your trusty axe to boot. The guards give you shifty looks as you study the exterior. It is a midday, and the bustling merchant town, capital of Swadia, home to King Harlaus himself, beckons you. Over the heads of the crowd you spot the tavern, the start of any ordinary adventure, legal or not. And then, a little farther beyond that, a smug looking rich man seems to be awaiting someone to do service for him. The guild master of the town, one might expect.

You also catch the tantalizing whiff of freshly baked bread, cooked meat, and brewed mead emanating from within the town. There are people of all sorts brushing past one another, pale, bearded Nords. Dark-skinned Sarranids, people of Khergit descent. Dhirim is one of the few places left in Calradia where the civilians of different factions can meet. This is one place where you might be able to blend in.

@Lucius Cypher

Ntaaj

Your horse crests a hill, and in your sight is the grey block that is Curaw. Prince Yaroglek's own estate, his massive banner flies over head. A cobble-stone path leads down the hill, and becomes small to your view, but it runs directly to the frozen gates of Curaw. The ground around you is covered in a light layer of snow, but your flight from the Khanate was unburdened by any precipitation. The sun is shining above, and the far of snow reflects brilliantly, creating a dazzling sparkling effect on the horizon. To the far left of Curaw, you can barely spot the rising smoke from a nearby village.

Unfortunately, your troubled past has given you some enemies. Alagur Noyan, a vassal of the Khanate that you held hostage to cover your escape, is most certainly looking for you right now. You did upon him a great disrespect, and a man's honor is only barely second to his life.

[Lucius Cypher]

Ntaaj had forgotten how long he’s been traveling now. He would guess days, when in truth it has been at least a month. The trip here had been rather uneventful, save for a close call to a farmer’s scythe when he stole and slaughtered a pig for food. Ntaaj had chosen to flee to the land of the Veigers, Curaw specifically, to hopefully find gainful employment and perhaps companionship. The only company Ntaaj had was his horse, who seemed rather intent on leaving him as soon as he could. The stubborn steed has been useful so far however, so Ntaaj has no interest in releasing him from it’s service.

Ntaaj noticed the smoke in the distance, but thought nothing of it. Plenty of reasons a village would have a large fire; burning crops, some sort of ritual, maybe they were burning a witch. He hasn’t heard of much bandit activity or wars going on, so he couldn’t imagine the village was being raided. And even if it was, what could he do? Sure he could kill a man, but he wasn’t about to stand against a veritable army alone. He was skilled, not stupid.

Entering the city with no particular fanfare, Ntaaj looked around the somewhat busy streets. There were people milling about going on with their lives, completely ignorant to the dangers outside. Ntaaj smirked to himself. In the Khanate, him entering the city would be cause for concern. Usually because it meant there was a horde of cavalry around him. But Ntaaj was going to have to get used to being in cities without sacking them. He dind't want the guards to think he was up to something if he starts looking shifty. Ntaaj turned his horse to a stable for safe keeping and looked for work. He barely had enough money to stay the night, so with any hope he’ll find a job soon. And the best place to look for work was the tavern.

[Stekkmen]

Ntaaj

The tavern of Curaw is an interesting place indeed. A group of men in chainmail, mercenaries presumably, sit around playing a card game with rules you don't recognize. The bartender, a dark skinned woman in a green robe, chats with a common villager. Most of the tavern's population are unremarkable people though: Farmers, merchants, guildsmen. One particular peasant, a nervous looking, skinny, sweaty young lad approaches the mercenaries. He pleads with them, something you can't hear, and the mercenaries wave him off. From looks on their faces you can deduce he has plead his case to them many times.

The young lad grabs one by the shoulder, says "Please!" loud enough so you can hear it, but the mercenary punches him the gut and audibly threatens him with violence if he asks again. The peasant hobbles off into the corner and looks miserable. The tavern is quiet for a moment, but the chatter quickly resumes after the mercenaries get back to their card game.

[TheUnknowable]

Roark sniffed the air, nodding at the scent of fresh food. Finally, after days of traveling, eating what little food he could gather in the wild, and avoiding war parties and mercenaries he had made it to a city. Not that he liked Dhirim. He'd much rather be back in Wercheg where things were somewhat familiar, but it would do for now. He needed money, and the best way to get it was to take a job.

Thankfully the guildmaster was standing outside. Hopefully he'd offer Roark a decent job that wasn't just fetching goods. The last time he did one of those he was still a Raider, and he'd had to find someone in town to steal it from. He wasn't sure he wanted to risk getting on the guards bad side. "Oy, Old man," Roark said, walking up to him. "Got a job for me?"

[Lucius Cypher]

Ntaaj entered the tavern and sure enough, there was hustle and bustle. Mercs, knights, peasants, anyone with the coin was here to drown their sorrows or seek trouble. Ntaaj was rather eager; it's been too long since he's been in a good scrap, and hoped some drunken idiot would be offended by him so Ntaaj can cut him to ribbons. As Ntaaj looked for a seat, he heard some peasant asking mercs for help. Ntaaj could guess why; the poor fool's village was being raided by bandits and he needed strong men to save it. Of course, no one would accept an offer like that. What could mere peasants offer to them that would be worth the trouble? Even Ntaaj wouldn't have done it. If you want a bodyguard, sure, he could offer himself. But liberate a village from a bandit horde? Now that wasn't the sort of fight Ntaaj would think he could get out unscathed.

So Ntaaj didn't really bother the peasant boy, instead heading straight to the bartender for work or rumors of work. "I'll take whatever swill this'll get me." Ntaaj dropped a seven rusty denars on the counter for a drink, and proceeded straight to questioning. "I'm a sellsword, obviously, and I'm looking for work. Any of the local lords in need of an extra blade?"

[Stekkmen]

Roark

Roark

The guild master seems to take an immediate disliking to you. Standing up, above the crowd, on his little patio, he is quite literally looking down his nose at the rough-and-tumble nord below him. Too him, and to anyone else really, that Roark is a nord, through and through.

"That's Thomas Ivorybane to you, Nord." The Ivorybane is said with a soft "o", sounding more like Ivrybane. He wrinkles his long nose. He'd been a guildmaster long enough to learn to deal with the "undesirables" that often came his way, calling him things like "old man". What ever happened to a good old-fashioned sir?

"And, yes, I suppose I do." Ivorybane says. "My merchants need protection from bandits on the road to Curaw. The bandits are calling themselves the Snow Wolfs." Wolfs was said just like that. Wolf, with an S. "No, the White Wolfs. Not Snow Wolfs. And, not Wolves either. They call themselves the Wolfs. Grammar seems to have escaped their low blood. The White Wolfs. That's what they are called..."

Anyway, I'm sending out a pack of horses filled with fine Rhodok silk to Curaw, and could use an extra hand." He looks you over, one more time, thinking before his next statement. "245 copper coins, solid denars, to you if you ride along side my caravan. Should be quick, easy, no trouble. But if those Wolfs come after you, we expect you to do your part. You'll have your money once you arrive back here with my caravan."

"I'll have your name, too."

[TheUnknowable]

"Master Ivrybane," he said, addressing the old man with a bit of respect. He'd come across the occasional old Raider that thought they deserved a title, so he was used to it. As long as the guy was willing to pay him, he use whatever title the guy demanded. "I don't mind cracking a few white wolf or snow wolf or any other bandit skulls for you, but I've got a couple of questions first. One, do I get looting rights on any bandits I kill? Two, I'm a bit embarrassed to ask, and I can walk if you want, but if you need me to ride, I'll have to borrow a horse, at least until I get back and can buy one. Any old nag or plow donkey will do." He put out his hand. "Roark Axeslinger's the name. Earned it by throwing axes into my enemies faces. And if the gods smile on me, I'll do the same for you."

[Stekkmen]

Ntaaj

The woman cups her hand and scoops your denars into a burlap bag she was keeping under the counter. She holds up a hand to the man she was talking too, the man gives a quick glance to you, and then nods at both you and the woman. The woman supports her chin with her palm and tries to think.

"Well, that man over there is asking for help from a band of criminals called the White Wolfs. But, as you can probably tell, he won't be able to offer much. Heck, the best way to help him is to go up to Rivacheg and talk to Boyar Crahask. He's about to go hunt down these White Wolfs and is offering payment for mercenaries to join one of his parties. See, but how I know it's going to be dangerous is that a Boyar himself is getting involved. Usually these bands of criminals are left to be taken care of by lesser captains. So, I suppose that lad over there is going to get his wish, even if it'll be too late for his village.

Other than that, Prince Yaroglek is always looking for able bodies in his war against the Nords, he's going to lead a campaign against the eastern nordic territory. It'll be the first Vaegir offensive in years. Thanks for the Denars, I'm sure a guy like you can turn a profit. If you have any left over, I can get you some meat and some beer." She turns to the other man before waiting for a response.

"Anyway, where was I?" They go back to discussing what sounds like gossip.

Ethelbert

The sight of Jelkala brings back memories of all flavor. It has been a long time since you, Lord Ethelbert of Jelkala, first left in search of fortune and glory. Your father is dead, and in your absence due to your prolonged capture by a group of slavers who did not know of your noble birth, another lord, Count Kurnias, has taken possession of all of your fathers assets, including the village of Ruldi. Returning to the town will certainly garner a reaction from the people and nobles.

The walled city, capital of the Rhodok Republic, sits nestled in a valley with sharp, insurmountable mountains towering on all sides except one. It is truly a fortified haven for the relatively recently formed republic. As you approach the gates, two Rhodok Sergeants spy your heavy weaponry and decide to stop you. The laws of the Rhodoks are much more strict when it comes to such things, you remember.

"Stop. Why do you come into Jelkala with such weaponry in hand?"

Roark

Thomas sniffs and looks as if he is thinking some more.

"Yes, I can offer you a donkey, for a slight dock in pay of course. 15 denars to cover the cost of the extra hay it'll take to carry you on it's back. You may walk, if you like, but be warned, for it is a long trip on foot.

As for your other question...my men are caravan guards. They do not go on these trips for loot and treasure, everything is priced accordingly to profit. Any dead men's boot or swords will weigh down the pack horses and donkeys even more, therefore the loot will slow down the trip. If you are going to take a donkey, do not take any loot. An exhausted donkey will cost you. With no mount, carry all the loot you can, I don't care. Just don't slow the caravan down."

[TheUnknowable]

"In that case, I'll take the donkey, and stick to looting their jewelry and purses. At least that won't way me down.

So, when and where should I meet your men?"

[CigarLeone]

There stood the walls of Jelkala: tall, wide, ugly, and wonderful. Ethelbert couldn't say it was great being back home, but neither could he deny feeling a weird satisfaction on his return. As he approached the city walls, Ethelbert remembered an old poem. "And thus returns the repented dog, with the tail between his legs and a broken snout", he murmured to himself.

And it didn't take long for Ethelbert to realize he might as well had been a dog entering the city. "Would the guards dare speak like this to any other Lord?", he asked himself. But he wasn't any other Lord, he was Ethelbert Arderne, and he barely looked like he filled the position, something he was very aware of. For a second he considered being subtle, pass off as a nobody, buy time as he re-learned the politics of the land. That second passed quicker than any before it.

"My named is Ethelbert Arderne, the ONLY son and ONE true heir of the now deceased Lord Arderne, and I've come to speak with King Graveth, under whom you serve."

[Lucius Cypher]

Join with the prince’s army, or hunt some outlaws? Either one sound fine to him, but Rivacheg was a while away. He could probably made it within a day if he rushes the horse, but considering that the White Wolfs (sic) likely operated between the two cities, Ntaaj was probably going to run into them before he gets the job to go after them. Ntaaj assumed that Prince Yaroglek was in Curaw, but then again if he was waging war against the Nords at their eastmost territory, he might be at a town or city closer. Maybe Rivacheg; seemed like a good idea to take out Werecheg first since it was largely cut off by the rest of the Nord cities by land. Then again, the nords were tough opponents too. While Ntaaj has never had the pleasure to face off against one of them before, he’s heard a lot about their famous strength and durability. And their lack of horses or skilled archers.

Either way, it seemed like Ntaaj was heading north. Shame about the village boy, but there wasn’t much Ntaaj could do for him. Maybe if he’s lucky Ntaaj would be with the men who’d liberate the village. Still… Maybe the village boy could be of some use. ”Thanks for the tip.” Ntaaj left the counter after the barkeep went back to her gossip and looked for the village boy. When or if Ntaaj found him, he’d call out to the peasant. ”You there! Who is attacking your village and do you know where they come from?” If the boy knew, then Ntaaj would know what route to avoid to get to Rivacheg. It may take longer, but better that he gets to Rivacheg safe and sound then full of arrows and dying.

[Stekkmen]

Roark

"They'll be at the Eastern Gates of Dhirim. You're lucky, they'll be leaving in under an hour. I'll be there to wish you all good luck."

There a horses, pack mules, and multiple carriages with precious cargo divided between the six of them. The caravan guards are obvious, their gambesons are painted with vertical, thick, black and red stripes. They wear helmets that come over with a iron strip to protect their nose, and wear basic chain and leather armor. Most of them have shields with various symbols and patterns on them, but most of them have something to do with the Swadian Gryffin. There are 15 guards total, all of them mounted on horses, bearing swords, shields, and a spear across their back.

There are also six civilian merchants driving the carriages. They all have a crossbow with a few bolts in store on standby. All in all, 21 people operate the carriage, 22 including you. Your donkey will only be able to keep up with the back end of the caravan without getting tired. The caravan master approaches you and Thomas Ivorybane when you arrive.

"Hullo, Master Ivorybane." He says.

"Greetings, Derek." Ivorybane politely responds.

"So, you brought an extra hand?"

"Correct."

The caravan master turns to face you and extends out his right hand. "Hullo there, sir, I'm Derek. You can call me Captain, or Captain Derek, or just Derek- I don't mind which."

Ethelbert

The Rhodok Sergeant stares at you blankly for a moment. He squints, then his eyes widen and he turns red.
"Oi, sir, please forgive me, my liege. I did not recognize ya." He bows hastily. Then he looks back at the other Sergeant, who shrugs nervously. It's clear they are conflicted about something.

"Uh, uh- uh," The First Sergeant clears his throat.

"Right this way, Lord Ethelbert. I shall take you to the castle. They'll get you rested up there." To the other Sergeant: "Watch the gate."

He turns around and begins to walk off. He peeks over his shoulder, pauses at you, and then continues to walk onwards. He's that far in front of you, and is making sure the common folk are out of your way. The townspeople seem to know the drill of when a noble person enters the town, but most of them give you unsure looks. Like you yourself realized, you don't currently look like it.

Ntaaj

The young lad jumps. He was sitting on a stool, leaning against the wall, looking defeated before you startled him.

"W-w-w- yes! It's a band-a brigands, sir. There all around sackin' me home town, will you help me? Oh I don't have much but we'll be grateful forever sir, thank you! They're called the White Wolfs, I believe sir, and I don't know where they come from but they told me about, oh, thank you sir- come from the south west of me home village, Rebache, sir. Comin' from Reyvadin Peak, sir. But I fink, sir, I fink they're all over, sir. All over. Lots of 'em. Lots of White Wolfs, sir."

Then he pauses and goes quiet.

[Lucius Cypher]

Ntaaj rubbed the back of his head. He knew where most of the major towns were, but he had no idea where the villages were. He would have to stop by one of the stores and buy a map. Or just have this kid lead him. Either way, if Ntaaj had to head to Rivacheg, he should be safe from the White Wolves. Reyvadin Peak likely referred to the mountain near Reyvadin, and he wasn't heading in that direction. He should be safe... But he could always use back up. "Kid, if you want to save your village, you need to be willing to fight for it. I'm not going to save your village right now. I'll be heading to Rivacheg and see if the lord or whomever there is willing to form a group to fight off the White Wolves. If you really care about it, you'll follow me and learn how to fight. That way you can save your village and protect your home." Though in truth, Ntaaj just needed someone to bait arrows. Still, he could probably afford the kid a hatchet and maybe a low quality shield, and teach the boy the basics of fighting. Then he'll live long enough to bait more arrows.

"I'm leaving now. If you want to save your village than come with me and learn how to fight. Otherwise you can stay here and keep begging for the rest of your life." And with that Ntaaj left the tavern and headed to a general store. He'll need some more supplies and a map.

[Stekkmen]

Ntaaj

Truly, it was an offer no emotionally compromised boy in his late-teens could pass up.
A few moments after you leave the tavern, the young lad calls after you.
"Sir, sir! I want to go wiff ya, sir! I'm gonna protect my town sir, yes, just like ya said sir. Protect my town, that's wot i'm going to do. Just you wait sir, you won't regret this, sir!" He seems ecstatic. As he closes the door of the tavern behind him, you can faintly make out the raucous laughter of mercenaries.

"Now sir, I brought a wagon, sir. Into town. I had to steal it from me father to escape but I'm sure he won't mind, given the circumstances, sir. He's probably back there, right now sir, hostage in the town." Suddenly he looks angry. "Oh, I'm gonna show those White Wolfs wot for sir, just you wait. You won't regret this, no way. They will regret it sir, just you wait."

He runs his hand through his hair.
"But, sir, the point of it, sir, is wot's in the wagon. There's some goods sir, wot we can sell and get some cash. Not much, but surely enough for gear for me, sir, if you don't mind. I hope I will be getting gear sir, right?"

[Lucius Cypher]

Ntaaj looked at the boy with an evil eye. "First, stop calling me sir. My name is Ntaaj, but you will be calling me captain." Ntaaj walked through the city, expecting the boy to follow as he explained his plan. "I'm guessing you have a name too, but I'll be calling you boy until I think you deserve a title. Now you mentioned something about a wagon?" The boy then told Ntaaj that there are some goods in the wagon they could sell for money. This was good; Ntaaj could use that money to equip the boy and maybe get himself something decent. Like an actual war horse. "Well, aren't you a crafty one. Fine then, we'll sell what's in the wagon and the wagon itself to get your geared up. You'll need a weapon, a shield, a helmet, and a horse. We'll also be needing supplies. Anything else is going to be extra." Of course Ntaaj would have rather used all the money for himself, but he wasn't that foolish. The boy was going to be more than useless if he couldn't fight, and he wouldn't last a second in battle if he didn't even have a knife.

[CigarLeone]

If Ethelbert had been honest with himself, he would have admitted surprise at the effectiveness of his words. But at that time, he was just happy everything seemed to be working out for him, at least so far. For now, he couldn't do anything except trot his way to the castle, walk his way to the King's court, and use his rusty, silver tongue to try and take back what was once his father's. That and reminisce. And reminisce he did.

Quite a bit of time had passed since Ethelbert used to walk this streets and cause trouble, but the memories of it all hadn't left him. His first fight. His first love. His first heartbreak. His first loose permanent teeth. It sure felt damned good to be back.

[Stekkmen]

Ntaaj

The boy looked sheepish. He leads you to where he stored the wagon and all the goods onboard. Once there, he nervously clears his throat.
"Ah, sir, I mean, Ntaaj, I mean, Captain...I don't ride horses, Captain. I took the wagon, sir. I mean, Captain. Sorry. I took the wagon because I can't ride horses very good, Captain. Plus, Captain, I don't think me father would be very pleased if I SOLD the wagon. I could...I'm just a farmer's child, Captain- but I could ride a horse if ya wanted me too. I suppose. Captain."

With some mental math, you figure a shield, a helmet, and a weapon, would cost about 250 denars. The wagon is wooden, but the wear and tear indicates it has been used by the village for quite some time. The goods on board are common, wheat, grain, dried meat, and some cloth. The wagon and the goods could sell for about 400 denars. The horse looks wide and slow, a horse for pulling rather than running. You could sell that for the hefty price of 200 denars.

The boy's unwittingly brought an entire village's months work, maybe more. Consider this before you decide on your next action.

Ethelbert

The Sergeant eagerly leads you to the King's Court. He is waved in through a check point. More of the guards give you less than welcoming looks. The Rhodok Sergeant seems oblivious to every one else's apparent feelings towards you. The large, wooden doors of King Graveth's court loom over head.

The Sergeant leads your horse to a nearby stable where it is kept safely inside. It seems grateful for the respite. The Sergeant turns to you.
"Lord Ethelbert, I don't want to trouble you, but I'm sure you've heard of Count Kurnias's claim to all of your father's assets. I served under your father's command for a long while, I know about you. But these other folks, I'm not so sure. You've been gone for a long while, and Count Kurnias has a lot of friends. I wish you luck in your endeavor."

You are let into the hall. You know the way, you've been here before. Directly onward and up a set of stairs is King Graveth's court room. To the left there are many facilities, cafeteria, armory, storage, the whole lot. To the right, there are the residences. The residences are of a considerable size, meant to hold the King's army. Also in the residences, through a set of warm hallways that lead away from the barracks is where the nobility sleep and rest, and is also where your childhood housing was.

Zarya

Your journey has been uneventful and objectiveless, leaving you many days to contemplate your past and yourself. Your horse crests a hill, and you see the tall walls of Curaw before you. You didn't realize you were back here again. Without a destination, you find yourself drawn back to Curaw, capital of the Vaegirs. You're not sure if there's anything left for you here now, though. You have enough food and money to travel to the capital of any neighboring faction. The trip to the Nordic Capital, Sargoth, would to take you through many taiga forests and rivers. To Tulga, capital of the Khergits, you would have to go around the mountain range, on the verge of snow and grass. And then there is the straight shot to Dhirim, you could follow trade routes to get there quickly.

Or, you could head into Curaw and see what still lingers there. Either way, despite your mental cloudyness you and your horse are still full of physical energy for future travels. Consider your past and your options before continuing.

[TheUnknowable]

"Well met Derrik." Roark said, shaking the man's hand. "I am Roark Axeslinger, here to help you against any bandits that may attempt to take your goods. Master Ivrybane was good 'nuf to loan me a donkey for the trip, so I'll be riding near the back of the caravan. Don't worry, though, that doesn't mean I'll shy away from battle should the need arise."

[Lucius Cypher]

Ntaaj sighed. He supposed that he shouldn't expect everyone to know how to ride a horse unlike in the Khanate, but Ntaaj wasn't going to be able to teach him how to ride a horse into battle very easily. And if the boy was going to travel on foot, he was only going to slow Ntaaj down. With that in mind, this meant Ntaaj had no choice but to keep the wagon and the poor excuse of a horse to pull it. At least that way they'd be going a bit faster, without the foolish youth falling off the saddle every couple of minutes. This meant that the only option Ntaaj had to sell was the goods. "We're selling all of it. You life, and the life of your village, is worth more than the goods in this cart. If they have a problem with that then they could always ask those Winter Wolfs or whatever to come back."

They still had some time before they were going to leave, so Ntaaj was going to shop around for equipment the boy could use. If he was a native from the khanate, he could rely on the idea that the villager could handle a spear, maybe even a bow. But truly this boy was no warrior, barely a man even. Ntaaj would have to think carefully about what he should give the boy to fight with; something simple like an axe or club. While any brute could cut someone with the sharp edge of a sword, the boy didn't come off as a strong sort, and would be liable to break his blade if he tried to use a sword. At by buying something simple like an axe or club, that would save Ntaaj more money for something more reliable. "Follow me and bring the wagon with you, boy, we're going to do some shopping."

Budgeting himself to about 250 denars, if he could sell the goods in the cart for that amount or more, he could get the boy an decent Iron Mace, a Leather Covered Round Shield, , Leather Armor, and a Skull Cap. Simple stuff that even a peasant like the boy could use. While a regular hand axe would be cheaper and more likely something he's handled, axes needed some skill to use. Swing too hard and the blade gets stuck in a body, which opens you to a counter attack. But with something like a club, blunt force doesn't need to crush the body to kill them. A solid smack to the arm, even if it doesn't bleed, will break something. Hopefully the boy would learn that. Now Ntaaj just needed to find someone to sell the goods to and buy the equipment from. He wasn't a merchant however, and wasn't great at bartering.

Since most of the goods in the wagon were stuff you'd expect from a farming village, Ntaaj looked to merchants in the farmer's market. He essentially came to the first some-what empty looking shop he saw and tried to sell them his goods. "I have wheat, grains, dried meat, and some cloth. Fresh from the village of Rebache. I'll sell them to you for 500 denar.

[Stekkmen]

Roark

Derek nods at you, mounts his horse, and rides to the front of the caravan.

Thomas steps in front of you. As he's looking on his caravan, he says,"I hope to be seeing you shortly, Mr. Axeslinger. Farewell." He turns on his heels and walks back to the gates. He travels a short distance into the city, turns once more, and watches as the caravan begins to depart.

Your donkey stares at you apathetically when you step onto it.

You hear Derek's voice from the front of the convoy.
"Alright then! We ride to Curaw!"

Horses whinny and wheels begin to clack, and the caravan leaves. Your donkey immediately falls behind, but lazily keeps pace with the rear wagon. A half an hour later, the caravan reaches the end of the Dhirim Plateau, takes a sharp turn down the side of the plateau, and Dhirim disappears from view.

Eventually, you are far enough away from the natural formation that you can see the tallest spires of Dhirim poking out from the plateau, but they are faint and tinged by blue-grey fog.

Soon, the brown-green grasslands begin to lighten, and turn blue-green, the weather is slightly colder. The outskirts of both Swadian and Vaegir territory. There is nothing to do but wait, think, and admire the landscape.