You know the drill, this game'll be mostly PG-13, but may drift into mature content and ‘suggestive themes’. Kiddies be warned. . . . I know you're still there, you know.

-Sibelius' Kingmaker Adventure Path-

Pharast 1
Oleg's Trading Post
“There she be,” the driver announced, pointing out the tiny wooden fort on the horizon, here at the very edge of Brevic civilization.

One the third day of travel since leaving the city of Restov, riding in the packed wagon has left you eager to get to your destination and stretch your legs. Your journey began with your latest adventure when you accepted the exploration charter for these lands from the Lord Mayor of Restov. The next day you all met with the wagon driver who would take you to Oleg’s from which you would launch on your mission.

If your life of adventuring hadn’t already desensitized you to the weirdness of those who travel the road, you might have had some odd looks saved for your companions (though to be sure, there were looks thrown your way as you left the city, not that you’d noticed).

The charming beauty Sylvia with her unnaturally coloured hair and obvious magical talents garnered her much of the attention heading out of the city.

Lloyd, self-proclaimed doctor from New Stetven in Brevoy drew some speculation with his stoic silence and unusual beaky mask and heavy, dark coat. He carried with him a locked chest and a heavy bag over his shoulder.

Then there was Aria, the short half-elf with Tien heritage, a travelling dancer who grew up among the elves in Kyonin. At her hips she carried two large, inward-curving kukri knives.

Standing a head above the rest of the group was Junn, an elf with odd, disturbed eyes of solid white and pure yellow, wearing the three-pointed holy symbol of Calistria around his neck.

A sudden divergence from the pale-skinned northerners, Sordin’s light-brown complexion marked his homeland in northern Garund, specifically the atheist kingdom of Rahadoum the west. The lean adventuring paladin carried a bow as his primary weapon, with a short sword at his side.

Finally, the bestial half-orc Ortlieb, also from Garund, joined the wagon party as you were just leaving the city with his gorilla, Ramathu, which you might have suspected of being an infant orc if you hadn’t heard of the Garundi animal. He stood nearly as all as Lloyd, but his bulky orcish frame made him easily the heaviest.

Around you the mild winter and early-coming spring left only the most stubborn piles of snow still dotting the country. When you got up this morning, your breath frosted before your face, but now the air had warmed to a comfortable temperature, and was getting warmer every week.

The gate to the trading post was open, so the driver led the horses into the yard. On top of each of the four towers there is a catapult in varying stages of disrepair. Inside the palisade there are four main buildings, a stable to the left, the main building in the back right corner, a fenced storage hut with roof between them, and a guest house to the right, with a pair of tables laid out between it and the guest house. Thus.
A pair of hunters sit at one of the tables discussing over lunch, and a burly man is loudly hammering away at a leak in the roof of the guest house. A woman steps out from the main building and an apprehensive look flashes across her face for a second at the site in the courtyard before her. Any trace of alarm, though, is quickly replaced with a warm smile.

“Welcome to the Post! You must be the charter folks we’ve been told about. I’m Svetlana Leveton; my husband Oleg and I run this here trading post. That’s him fixing the roof just there.” Svetlana broke off her greeting to call to her husband, “Honey! Guests!”

Oleg looked up from his work and glanced at the assembly in the yard. He gave a curt nod. “I’ll be down for lunch!” he said, and went back to his pounding.

Svetlana smiled and bit her lip some. “Don’t you worry about him, he’s just got a lot on his mind lately. Just let me say, you got here not a day too soon, they should be here tomorrow. Now come, have a seat, lunch is just about ready.” The friendly woman disappeared back into the main building before a word could be had on behalf of the Greenbelt party.

Lloyd jumped down from the wagon. He had been sitting at the back the whole ride, and planned to be the first off. Landing with decent grace, the masked man turned around and reached for his chest. With ease he slung the chest onto his shoulder and walked to the woman who was babbling the words that were probably her customary greeting.
“Now come, have a seat, lunch is just about ready.” Ignoring the fact that his mask would probably intimidate her, Lloyd shoves past any of the other strangers who might have passed him while he was dealing with his extra cargo. He looks down at the woman while he talks.
“Yes. I require sustenance, but while I wait I have not intent on lounging about in this open courtyard. Point me to my quarters and I in turn will settle in. Once that is in order I will pay you well to not only let me have the room to myself, but to keep quiet and out of it while I am in. I have much work to do and I do not want anyone disturbing me.”

Junn slowly stood from his seat on the wagon and disembarked grabing his belongings along the way. Once on solid groud he stood for a moment in the warm sun streched and brushed off his jacket before making his way past Lloyd and the woman without so much as a word and sat at the empty table and began to rummage through his bag to make sure all his belongings were still intact.

Sylvia disembarked the confined space shrugging and stretching out grimacing as she felt stiffness in her joints. "If I'm ever confined like that again..." She breathed to herself shuddering, she grabbed her backpack and spear carrying them in one hand. Recomposing herself she approached the lady who had greeted them and smiled warmly without saying a word. She looked around the area and shivered at the still slight chill in the air. "To cold." She stated simply and turned taking a seat next to Junn putting her bag between her feet on the ground and stabbing her spear into the ground point first next to her.

She turned to the tall one and smiled at him. "Not much was said on the trip, I'm Sylvia may I have the pleasure of your name?" She asked offering her hand in a handshake fashion to him.

Junn glanced up from his bag at the young girl who had sat infront of him he looked at her face then her outstreached hand placed his bag down and stood up, he placed I hand across his chest and bowed at the waist slightly.

" My name is Junn Vallo I am... pleased to meet you miss"

He returned to sitting and brushed a stray strand of hair from his face.

Sylvia retracted her hand and smiled again. "Whats that around your neck? If I may ask." She said pointing at the Calistrian necklace tilting her head quizzically, her eyes flashing a moment of innocent curiosity, but also slyness.

Junn looks down at the necklace and holdsit up to Syl

"This is a holy necklace representing the Goddess Calistria, I keep it with me in hopes of her blessing and protection, though I'm only a recent convert of hers, I find more solice in her teachings then those of my past"

Lets the necklace fall back agenst him

"Your a curious one arnt you"

smirks slightly then turns and looks around the fort while streaching

Sylvia smirked coyly and chuckled a bit. "Curious, is one of my more sour traits I must admit. But we have time to talk, would you be able to give me the run down on Calistra?" She asked, her voice loseing some of the innocent curiosity, and gaining a calculating aspect.

Junn glances at Syl noteing the change in her voice

"Calistria, is the goddess of lust and revenge, my people have a certian fondness for her, though perhaps a priest could provide a better explanition then I as I said I'm a rather new convert and its more out of convience then true faith I suppose"

Cracks his knuckles and mumbles something in elvish while looking at the ring on his hand.

Sylvia nodded and smiled again. "Sounds like my kind of lady, I think I'll learn with you about her if that is alright?" Sylvia asked, her voice loseing the change of tone and regaining her usual friendly if calculating tendency.

Rests shoulders on table

"Religious freedom is one of the virtues of this land, so I see no harm in such a request, though I hope you are as quick a study as myself, but for now I think there are more pressing matters at hand then religious faith, like finding some food and drink"

chuckles to himself and looks over at Lloyd and the inkeepers wife still talking and rolls his eyes

Sylvia licked her lips and rested one hand on her tummy hearing it grumble. "Guhh....Hopefully it isn't all vegetables." She mused resting her chin on the table, swaying side to side lightly and out of bordeom. Her eye were slightly vacant and her mind was wandering as usual.

Ortlieb clambered out of the wagon, hearing the worn wood creak beneath his bulk. He reached back in to retrieve the backpack which contained his few belongings and to gesture to his companion.

"Come, Ramathu. We've arrived for now." His rough voice was deep but he spoke quietly, as if not wishing to disturb his surroundings. At his gesture the dark bundle of hairy muscle that had packed itself into a tight corner unrolled and bounded swiftly out the wagon. The creature swung itself forward a few steps on it's massive forearms before standing up on two back legs and stretching for all the world like your average humanoid.

Moving to stand beside his gorilla friend, who had settled back onto his knuckles, Ortlieb looked around him, taking in the various buildings of the trading post. He noted the disrepair of the catapults and wondered if that was part of what had caused the landlady's distress at first sight of them. These were signs, he supposed, of the state to which things had deteriorated in the Stolen Lands. Who the 'they' was, that the lady had mentioned, he wondered about, and if perhaps the group's first challenge would be upon them before they had gotten into the true wilds.

As Sordin vaults over the side of the wagon his long, grey (well on it's way to becoming prematurely white) hair falls in front of his eyes as he does so. He casually pushes it to the side and takes a now unobstructed look at the outpost. Even though he had been abroad for quite some time, he had yet to get used to the simplicity of most of the world outside of Rahadoum. The vibrant colors, fine dress and warped architecture of Azir were so very different from what he was seeing now. Of course the simplicity in itself had it's own virtues, he found it altogether more relaxing.

He approaches the wagon driver, "The trip here was much appreciated, would you like some assistance stabling the horses? That is if you are planning to stay the night of course."

Lloyd caught the trade mistress as she was headed back inside. Svetlana smiled apologetically at his request. “I’m sorry, hun, I would if I could, but we’re not exactly a big city inn. Don’t get a lot of travel this way. The guesthouse is just there, if you like.” She pointed her chin behind Lloyd at the building currently undergoing roof maintenance.

Svet chewed on her lip in thought. “There are no private rooms in the fort, but if you like we could set aside a corner of the stables for you, so long as you don’t mind having Claptrap to keep you company.”

“Claptrap’s the horse,” she added, to be safe.

Sordin approached the wagon driver, “The trip here was much appreciated, would you like some assistance stabling the horses? That is if you are planning to stay the night of course.”
“I thank you kindly for the offer,” the driver smiled, “but I’m only staying for lunch. After that it’s back on the road for me. If you like though, I won’t object to a hand with their feed.”