Noire

On Winter's Edge

Job offer for caravan guards goes south.

Storms have been battering the Indigo Peninsula relentlessly for almost a month. Near constant requests for food from Box and other cities finally forced the queen to lift travel restrictions during a brief lull in the storm. Due to unexplained disappearances of previous wagons, the grain seller investing in this trip put out the call for some caravan guards. This call was answered by:

  • Sparx – An artificer of an unknown race who tends to hide his appearance lest he frighten folk.
  • Garrick – A human fighter who recently left his position as a Squire of the Vernacht Knights.
  • Lucan – An elven ranger traveling with a trusty mountain lion named George.
  • Ironnel – An charismatic eladrin rogue with a pinache for deception.
  • Rialdor – An eladrin merchant turned swordmage with a larcenous heritage.

The trip to Box was expected to take ten days due to the adverse condition of the West Road. As a rate of a silver a day they could each expect to receive a gold if the journey was uneventful. If events took a turn for the more exciting however the rate would increase to a gold per day. The potential for that kind of fortune just could not be ignored.

The storms stayed at bay for a day, but on the second ominous dark gray clouds could be seen in the south racing towards the party. The road traveled along the edge of the southern sea cliffs and had little to offer in the way of protection against such fierce elements. Lucan raced ahead to scout out the way ahead and see about locating any form of shelter. A blast of icy wind cut through the elf’s cloak as he surveyed the scene ahead. Standing on the pier of an ancient stone bridge that had long since crumbled into the Steamfent River some one hundred feet below, Lucan surveyed the aging wooden suspension bridge that had been erected in its place. An otherwise simple trek across the two hundred foot span was now complicated by an inch of ice encasing the entire structure. Fast moving dark clouds to the south indicated that time was limited and exposed at the top of this seaside cliff was no way to weather the impending storm. Quickly he rushed back to the caravan to report on his findings.

Seeing no available shelter the party decided that crossing the bridge was their only option. Garrick noticed that under the layer of ice covering the bridge were fairly deep ruts that had been worn into the wooden planks of the bridge from years of travel. The party opted to smash the ice out of the ruts creating channels for the wagons to cross the bridge. Given the lack of sturdy guard rails on the thirty foot wide span, the party wisely chose to have the ranger tie them off to the rope work on the sides. (more to come)

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