Welcome to the third week of the year and we find our party on bit of hard times, guarding prisoners. It’s not the most glamorous of jobs but this on pays exceedingly well, shockingly well in fact to the point that one could assume something was wrong with the job. But perhaps that would be the paranoia speaking. Then again, perhaps it’s not just paranoia.
The guards made it look easy back in the tavern and the promise of gold, victory and the fame that came from these jobs made it sound all worthwhile. Boy were they wrong. The bright moon heralds a darkness to the night that the party are told to fear. There is something that stalks them on the tracks through the woods, between the trees and through the brush.
The wizard is paying them handsomely, two weeks worth of wages for something that would take no longer than three days of travel – but the realisation comes too late that it’s all hazard pay. How could guarding and escorting prisoners to some remote prison be a hard gig. That was until the mission changed.
The flight for their life wasn’t the worst part, it was the exhaustion as day turned to night and night turned to days and days into a week as they tried to complete the job.
Guarding Prisoners
403MoGuPr
“The guards seemed relaxed as they lounged in the bench-booths of the Musty Oak and waited for the last of their ales to arrive. The coin flowed freely from their hands as they paid for their meals and boasted of their exploits to any who would listen, and many who cared not to. But the adventure, the wealth and the way that they spoke of their job made being idle and completing little jobs for little merchants sound utterly pitiful.
As they watched the guards enjoyed the comforts of being well paid and looked at their, in comparison, meagre meal before them. “Now now, don’t look too disheartened. Just so happens I know the boss of that crew and he is in need of some more men for a job.” the innkeeper said as he passed along a pint of ale, the first shouts of “Ales on me!” came from one of the younger guards at the table.
“If you are interested, Boris is sitting by himself over there,” he pointed to the quieter side of the he inn at a large man. “He is studying for the job.” the innkeeper chuckled and shook his head.
The job. This wasn’t exactly what they had in mind but the pay was significantly disproportionate to the work itself. The job was simple: transport two wagons filled with prisoners by road to some remote prison and deliver them to a man called Pensevtil. The prisoners were bound but sat quietly as they travelled in the well made wagons. The wagons were barred but constructed of ironbound hard wood that looked like it could contain an owlbear.
As they moved down the road the guards joked crudely and made fun of the prisoners but they were not cruel. The head guard, Boris, scouted the roads and was always looking forward. When he thought something was not quite right or needed further investigation he would bark out an order and one or two guards would immediately fall into line and move to investigate.
“The men respect Boris,” the company’s cook would say when watching one such order being given. “Boris is rarely surprised nor wrong when it comes to trouble and the boys have learnt to listen to the old vet. They say he commanded an army once but he won’t say why he isn’t still.” Cookie was an odd half-elf. He definitely got more of his human parents appearance but despite being quite ugly, he was tall and lanky with slightly pointed ears.
The men came back reporting nothing again but something near the road itself stood out to the party. Broken brush, several somethings had passed through here and they had broken some of the bracken that grew just under the trees. There were also signs of the passage of creatures further into the trees and they found fresh signs of the creatures. Whatever they were there were a few and they were nearby. Boris seemed pleased at the discovery and ordered the guards to be more alert which caused them to grumble but obey quickly and efficiently. One of the prisoners was staring into the woods when the party walked near the wagon, a look of fear and apprehension was clear on its face.
“It’s coming.” is all he muttered when they drew near and when they looked at the other prisoners all of them had the same haunted look.
Another week started and something a bit different. The classic guard trope with a twist, or two, as the party explore this adventure that we craft this week. Don’t forget that each day we expand this adventure so you better not forget to come back each day to keep tabs on whats going on here. And finally, as always, don’t forget to roll with advantage,
The Brazen Wolfe
Brazen Wolfe Tabletop 