"I don't know actually. I was raised by some friend of my parents. They never told me who, or where, they were, but they told me what I was. I got fed up, and left to look for them. Never found 'em. They're probably dead." Almyrikon's tone is totally flat, face showing no sign of emotion other than boredom. He never knew his parents. So what? If they didn't care about him, he didn't care about them. "Met up with my real family shortly after. My sons and daughters of the plains. I am their father, and I provide for them. It is a job I take."

Emotion returns to his face, giving a sidelong glance at Velina. "You're pretty good aren't you. While it is true that I struggle over large words, I actually do understand more that most would believe of a man from the plains. Especially when it comes to action in battle. Sometimes... okay, often... my judgement clouds though, so I lose some sense of my skill. However, it's a good tactic to let others think what they will. But speaking of that... don't tell the others. I'm not offended, it's a good idea."

At Velina's question of what he makes of her, Almyrikon takes a quick sweep up and down, eyeing Velina. "Hmm... perhaps a bard of some sort... but your build suggests more of a possible combat oriented role... but if that's all, you're likely to be sorely outmatched - no offense or anything... good powers of observation..." Almyrikon's brow furrowed... he wasn't used to this much thinking at one time about not fighting... Eventually, he just shrugged, and said "I give up. What are you? And be thankful- I actually thought hard about that. You're lucky." He says with a teasing tone in his voice.

Velin alistened with interest to teh story. "Sorry you never your birth parents but it sounds like you found a much better family in teh end. All we can ask is a place where we are welcomed. I won't tell the others our secret about you smarts; they can figure it out on their own if they are smart enough." Velina's brow furrowed in concentration, "Now as for what I am, how do I explain it to you? You are correct that I do fight but there is a bit more than that. I can cast a spell or two as well. Now, I am not as good as a straight up fighter like you in single combat nor am I a match for a true wizard in a magic duel but by being a bit of both I hope to have a surprise. I say I hope as I have never been allowed to actually fight, just learn from tomes or books as you would know them. Tomes is just a a fancy word for them."

Jethro watched the spinning interactions with amusement. So, she thought she was the leader. Jethro smiled, he was sure she knew how to fight but organizing a party in battle had so much more to it than just self-preservation. Almyrikon, that was a man Jethro would listen to in a battle, he had leadership skills, if he was impatient and arrogant Jethro also so a bravery and an altruism within him that was much more important than an ability to hold their own. Jethro for himself was inexperienced in mass combat and wasn't about to step into a position of power, besides he didn't want to be attached to this, if he had to he could leave at any moment, that was his plan. Until then he would find a guide through combat in the barbarian. He wanted to stay alive not just kill the "bad guys". She certainly was the heir but Jethro had not at all contested that. He had merely said that any party needed a true leader to take a group into danger with confidence and Maranda didn't seem to naturally fall into that niche. He had nothing against her but the fact that he saw more danger in following an unsure leader than in fighting against great odds. But he had committed himself and apparently so had she so Jethro resigned to being ready to run at any minute. Jethro was unconcerned with honour and more with self-preservation. If he could have a good time and still get ahead, well then he was looking forward to this quest.

Jethro was unconcerned with all the chatter about equipment and the banter (flirting?) between the two half-elves. Jethro was unsurprised and smiled to himself, those two types of people were always attracted to each other. The independence of the cleric was something that attracted Jethro's interest, as different as they were perhaps there was a kernel of similarity between them. But Jethro had a different way of playing the independence and that was by checking people out, the half-elves were gone and Maranda and Ether were off on their own. Perhaps he could look into the half-orc and the dwarf. They at least seemed like fun!

"Boys! I'm off to purchase rations for myself and my donkey and perhaps a little extra weaponry, one can never be too careful. Following these quick trips I intend to use the gold for precisely what gold is meant for... booze. Now you too look like apt drinking pals. How would you feel about a little bit of celebration. Perhaps we could even get the cleric drinking." Jethro says with a wink. He didn't really intend on getting drunk, or spending much of his money, but it was always good to have friends when one was in danger. And these two seemed like the perfect friends to have. As for the cleric, Jethro was curious: he knew it was unlikely to get him in on any drinking games but at the inn he could at least keep an eye on him.

"Swords and magic eh? Bah, I couldn't pull myself to do it. Magic is too... not direct. In a fair fight, a true test of power, both sides let each other know exactly what they can do. But magic is hidden until it is used. Not a fair tactic." Patting his axe, he shakes his head. "You are tricking opponents more, making them believe you fight with the sword, when you fight with both. Smart, but not very fair." Almyrikon shakes his head. He wouldn't stand for it. At least, not in his tribe mates. But the fact that others had thought of doing something like that... he would have to prepare his men when he returned. They would not be caught off guard by magic swordsmen. "You know what though? For such a tricky fighter, you aren't a bad person. It'll be good to fight with someone such as you on my side."

Kannizan was lost. He had a bag of 100 gold, which he assumed was ample money for the trip, but no clue where to start. He had many items he needed, but he may as well buy a months worth of food and grain. He had enough space in his saddle bags. He thought to himself "Maybe I should fill up the rest of my quiver with javelins...I've already got my ax, shield, and armor..."

At that very moment, he looked up at a sign. He had been wandering around without paying much attention, but it seems lady fortune was smiling upon him. The shop's sign was in dwarven! Something told him he'd find exactly what a Dwarf needed for a trip in here.

On the trip, he'd asked a few people for good stores, but they always said something similar to "Doc and Sardin's Warehouse for the little guys." The part that struck him as odd was that the sign read exactly "Doc and Sardin's Warehouse."

As he stepped in the door, he heard an unmistakably Dwarven voice call out his name. He looked up to see a Dwarf approach him, asking him what he needed. Kannizan looked him in the eye, and told him a few things.

"I need some grain, rations, 20 ft of silk rope, a grappling hook..." The list went on. After listening, Sardin told him that he could supply him with everything except for the rations, in which he would have to purchase somewhere else, preferably Whole Delver's Mercantile, and to sit while his worker went and retrieved the goods, Sardin began to make small talk with Kannizan. At Kannizan's mention of him belonging to the clan Stonesunder, Sardin leaped towards Kannizan, grasping by the shoulders. "Bahahaha! I should've known only a Stonesunder could wander around Waterdeep lost until he found a shop owned by another Stonesunder!"

Kannizan felt dazed. This man was a clansman? A grin broke through his black beard. Sardin started asking him questions about the home front, although Kannizan couldn't answer about most of the people. The few he did know, he could only share good tidings. When the worker came back, Sardin told him to fetch 10 days worth of grain, and to wheel the 50 pound sack to the inn where Kannizan is staying.

After taking the appropriate amount of gold, Sardin clasped Kannizan's shoulder. After asking for directions to Whole Delver's Mercantile, he gathered up all his goods and left the store.

"Not fair you say? Well would it be 'fair' for someone your size to fight me? Perhaps honorable by some standards but far from fair for we both know I would stand no chance. For you and your tribe single, physical combat is fair for that is accepted. Wizards would count any use of a weapon as unfair and would call anything but spell use unfair in a fight. You never hear a knight calling for magic use or a thief asking for combat on a field of honor. What is 'fair' is often simply what the person describing it feels is in their best interest." Velina smiled, "As for me, fair is irrelevant. What matters is who lives and who dies." Placing a hand on the barbarian's arm she added, "I would be honored to fight next to you as well. I'll make a deal with you; if you fight in single combat in a 'fair' way I will do my best to make sure it stays that way and your opponent doesn't get any help or cheat."

"It would be fair. Of course it would be fair for both fighters. If you did not have your magic, that is. Both sides see what is being used. Both sides choose fight. That makes it fair. Smart? No. Not even close. But still fair."

Looking down at his arm as Velina puts her hand on it, Almyrikon looks puzzled. He had never had anything such as that done to him. It felt... strange. "Well, that sounds like a good proposal. I will also make a fight fair is someone to big tries to fight you."

"Done now? Night comes soon. We should be getting back."

After visiting with Whole Delvers, Kannizan made his way back through the crowd of people towards the Fifth House Inn.

Once he got there, he proceeded up to his room to sit and relax for a minute. He was still thinking about how he had encountered a fellow Stonesunder in this large city. The world did seem a truly small place at that point in time. He hoped it would stay small for their journey in the morning.

Kannizan sighed. He knew he would be in for a long trip unless he attempted to acquaint himself with the rest of the company. He stood up from the bed, grabbed the remainder of his gold, and headed back downstairs. Maybe he would meet with someone and go have a quick drink with them. Perhaps he would take up Jethro's offer. He walked out of the inn and crossed the street to where the Pig in Armour was waiting for him.

A large man adorned in leather and hides kneeled down on the summer grass with his arms outstretched, the forest behind him, sunlight shining through the canopy. It was an eerie scene, as though it were far too surreal. However there was no fear, and the little girl knew that the man’s arms beckoned her towards his embrace. Pigtails bobbed upon a head somewhat larger than the body underneath, her big feet digging up clumps of dirt as she clumsily strode towards her father. She was disproportionate as children often are, and she tripped before she could make it to the man. But all was well. Her father was quick, and caught her before she could scrape her knees. He hugged her tightly, and she returned the act with her most admirable attempt at a bear hug. To which, of course, the man chuckled light heartedly about and said, “Oh, my little Mandy bear. You are indeed the fiercest of my children!”

“Daddy!” The little girl screamed, mocking reproach, “I’ m your only child!” Her eyes gleamed like emeralds when she looked up at him, the shadow of his form melting away from her face as she stood, letting the sun send a shine into her smokey blonde hair.

“Oh right. I’d almost forgotten,” he replied in jest, smiling all the while, “when did you get so smart?” The last time he had seen her, she must have been three inches shorter. His wife had been feeding her well he could see, as her pudgy little belly stuck out of her tattered shirt. It was a good thing that he had made some money on this trip. It was time that he bought her something nice. The poor kid practically grew up without a father, and yet she seemed to adore him so. Some sadness seeped into his eyes when he thought of this. Was he worth this much adoration?

Maranda started awake, which made Red give out an aggravated whinny. She apologized to the steed and then excused herself from the stall. One of the stable boys eyed her curiously. He hadn’t been here when she came in, so he was probably wondering where she had come from. She smiled at him politely and walked off. The sun had gone down a ways since the last time she checked, “Must’ve slept longer than I had intended.” Her dream was very disconcerting. She hadn’t dreamt about her father in years. All of this talk about lineage must have sparked something hidden in the back of her mind. The last image of him haunted her. His face, smiling, but with a hint of sadness that refused to fade from his chestnut brown eyes.

While reflecting on this bewildering dream, and heading back to the inn, she spotted Kannizan crossing the street towards the local bar. She hustled through the remnants of the crowd to catch up with him, tapping him on the should when she did. “Hey. Heading to the bar for last rites before battle?” She winked at him when she said this, thinking it was quite the quib. She had heard rumours of dwarves and their affinity for alcohol.

1st Uktar, Day 2:
The night passes in many different ways. Some few of the assembled group opted to spend time in the Pig In Armor, the tavern across the street from the Inn. While in the estalishment, either immediately after entering or after a short while, the dwarf, gnome, and human heir, noticed one another and seemed to gravitate into a small cluster of their own, each drinking with their own thoughts, but not in silence. Small talk was exchanged, and a certain comeraderie began to develop that helped to relieve the tension of thinking about the unknown. The heir watched as the gnome and dwarf exchanged boasts about drinking prowess, then fell to a serious contest of matching drink for drink, each trying to out-do the other. Much to her amusement, the boasting that accompanied the drinking never turned angry or malicious, and both the dwarf and the gnome stopped just short of being unable to walk. Though no words were spoken as all got up to return to the Inn to rest, there was an obvious, grudging respect that each of the males showed the other.

The half-orc took to wandering the streets of the large metropolis, observing types and styles of dress as if to identify those who would have a full or lean purse, noting the busier and more deserted streets as if planning a route of escape, glancing at verious storefronts and residences as if marking them for future "visits". In spite of his appearance, unusual even here, he stayed in the open, purposely "hiding in plain sight" so as not to draw undue attention to himself for any reason. When sadisfied that he had his "finger on the pulse" of the city, he returned to the Inn to rest.

The elven cleric, after his own jaunt to make purchases, searched for a shrine whereby to pray for his own blessings and those of his companions. He then returned to the inn, still keeping to himself for now, to make plans for possible combat situations the group night encounter.

The two half-elves, after an initial good-humored bout of verbal "jabs" at one another, left the meeting together to do their own purchasing. During their travels, they exchanged views on types and styles of preferred combat, learned something about each others skills, and formed a light-hearted agreement to aid one another if the need arose.

The following morning, each member of the group, as if by tacit agreement to the elven cleric's suggestion to leave as early as possible, retrieved their respectie mounts and made their way throught the already-increasing press of people toward the northern gate of the city of Waterdeep, there to meet and begin their journey. The half-orc, the barbarian, and the elf chose to travel on foot, although the elven cleric was leading a pack mule with gear lashed to a pack saddle.

[[ Okay, just a short one, for now. Since the majority of you know the direction and approximate distance to the forest in question, I highly recommend a discussion/decision on direction (overland/road), order (if any), and any other pertinent info that should be passed. Direction will determine type and frequency of encounters for the beginning part of your journey, so I need at least that much for another update ]]

"Alright! Time to go smash! Let's go the quickest way! These things won't know what hit them when the force of the Bearspaw falls down on them!" Almyrikon's hair had been done this morning. It was tied into a ponytail, and that ponytail was wrapped around his neck. His bear tattoos were now obvious and in the open. His axe in hands, he was ready for battle. And the excitement showed on his face.

"I appreciate your eagerness but perhaps we need to figure out exactly how we will be going before rushing off. We can travel overland which may be quicker and let us avoid highway bandits but has perils of its own like wild creatures. Then again the road may be quicker depending on the terrain of the overland route but we might be easily spotted as we arrive at the manor and lose the element of surprise." Velina shrugged, "Either way is fine with me but we should at least agree on which way we are going. Working together we have a chance of coming back alive; working as individuals I suspect that the Lord of Waterdeep will enjoy their new estate."

Velina readied her mount insuring her gear was properly packed, the saddle was tight and her daggers were well seated in their sheaths. Just to be safe she had packed one of the healing potions near the top of her pack in easy reach in case of trouble.

"I must agree. A store proprietor told me a rumor about hobgoblin raids in this area. I do believe we should pick a route that would enable us to at least somewhat conceal our movements from prying eyes. After all, we don't know what we're up against. Who's to say the force won't have spies looking for a band of adventurers heading it's way?" Kannizan prepared his pony for the trip ahead. He had his ax sheathed with him, but he packed away his shield to allow himself more mobility in the saddle. Kannizan looked around. "Anyone familiar with the territory that might have a good suggestion?"

"I know what to do. Go straight. Hobgoblins are pushovers! I could kill ten in my sleep!" Almyrikon grunted. These pushovers. Wouldn't even take on hobgoblins.

"And is it too much to ask for small words? We've done this before."

Gunk-karg looked over at the people who were discussing the way they should go, and felt a twitch in his brow when he heard the arragont, pig-headed voice of the barbarian, "bearpaw". He walked over and looked at the map, and decided.

" Ok, "bearpaw", do you wanna live through this encounter or not? Hobgoblins arent push overs, there militaristic bullies who'll over whelm you with numbers and kill you from the brush. I don't wanna die on account of your arrogance, so just listen here and TRY to comprehend what I'm about to say."

he pointed to the map with his orcish finger, and traced out three lines. One leading from water deep, going up to red larch then straight into the southern tip of the forest. another goes straight through the wilds and hills, from waterdeep to the southern tip of the forest, and another goes from waterdeep to the mere of dead men up to the southern tip.

" Now i propose we go to red lark first, if we dont wanna go up there we should go up through the mountains. if we dont wanna go up there we could go through the mere of dead men. I really dont wanna go there though, lizardmen ain't my thing, ya know? Don't wanna die from some marsh disease. Now can we get moving on one of these trails?