Winning Vote:
Plan Making Inroads
Acquiring Hollyfoot Tools
-Buying
Exploring
-North of the Northern Forest
Month 1
Elder Tumbleberry finished handing out tasks to the clanlings and they all set off to their duties. As Elder Tumbleberry turned to head back to his wagon, Volkhard rushed to catch up. "Elder Tumbleberry!" The old Halfling stopped and looked over his shoulder. "How much money should I take to Clan Hollyfoot?" He shook his head and gestured for Volkhard to follow along.
At the Elder's wagon he opened up a small chest and picked out a few bags of coins. He mumbled to himself and then gave the bags to Volkhard. "Some ten hundred should do. But bring back good tools, none of that Tall Folk iron sold twice." Volkhard nodded vigorously and raced to his wagon. With an aurochs hitched to the fore in a matter of minutes and his short stick in hand, the wagon set way into the hills.
Bumping from rock to rock and climbing from hill to hill the wagon made steady progress towards the camp of Clan Hollyfoot. The clatter and crash that came from within the wagon was unfortunate, Volkhard's favourite plate had shattered as the wagon lurched into a ditch. In the end, he rounded the busy spring that sat a little to the south of Clan Hollyfoot and came to see it laid out before him. Already a number of fenced off fields were being ploughed on one side of an awkward path, and the other saw many Halflings carving out burrows from the hills. The biggest hill seemed to be largely carved already, even if the door wasn't yet done. Instead, a wooden sign hung from a rope around a nail.
Elder Hollyfoot's Workshop.
Keep Out
As good a spot to stop as any, Volkhard pulled around to the front of the workshop and peered into the hole in the hill to see if Elder Hollyfoot was about. The Elder looked over at the curious Halfling, brought one hand up away from their workbench and waved him away. Volkhard looked behind him and another Hollyfoot had gotten very close, very quietly. "You're not a Hollyfoot." The Halfling looked him over.
"No, Elder Tumbleberry sent me to buy some tools of yours." The Halfling frowned.
"Well, we're using most of them. We're building a town you see." And away the two went to the wheel of wagons to see if there were spare tools for sale. The Halfling nodded along as they went around the wheel. "We can do you some ploughs, most of the fields are sorted for now. And some spare hammers too. Elder Hollyfoot's made too many, she wasn't happy with her first few, but I can't see the problem to be honest." To demonstrate, they picked up a hammer and swung it around loosely. "See, it's all good and fine."
"And those shovels?" Volkhard pointed across at another wagon with a few barrels of shovels.
"No, we're using those." And the Halfling crossed their arms. "It'll be half a hundred coins for a plough and 5 for those hammers each." Volkhard shook his head.
"We're in need you know. Haven't got so many tools as all your lot do." A sigh. "Look, I know you can do better than those prices. I heard you sold Ashfield a plough for half of that!" The Halfling considered that a moment.
"Maybe, but my mother's cousin fancies this Ashfield lad. Can hardly make him pay so much, eh?"
"And what if my mother's cousin fancies a Hollyfoot lass? Then it'd be unfair to make us pay so much wouldn't it?"
"Does he?"
"Well… no. He might be keeping it a secret though."
The Hollyfoot sighed. "Fine you can have the same prices as the Ashfields. You want the stock or not?"
"Well of course."
Volkhard's wagon was loaded up with five ploughs, two hundred hammers and enough barrels of nails that you can't imagine ever running out. All at the cheap price of 725 coins. The wagon ride home was less bumpy, and far slower. The wagon groaned a fair bit, the aurochs groaned a fair bit and Volkhard groaned a fair bit when he had to try and get his wagon out of a muddy divot he hadn't seen.
Descending once more on Clan Tumbleberry, Volkhard could see Halflings going just about every which way. Wagons had been moved around, the aurochs and goats were grazing on the hills and a field had been marked out with wooden posts. Hopping down from his wagon, Volkhard could see several Halflings rushing over at Elder Tumbleberry's insistence. The ploughs were already being taken away to the field and trunks of hammers moved into the wheel of wagons with their nails. Elder Tumbleberry then arrived. "Did any coin survive the Hollyfeet?"
[] Yes Elder
Give Elder Tumbleberry the 275 coins that weren't spent.
[] Not A Single One
Borrow the remaining coins for yourself.
Taking a day to reacquaintance himself with the cooks, Volkhard then set off again. With his short stick in hand, doubling as a handy walking stick, and a backpack the size of a Halfling stuffed with rations he wandered away into the north. The western river sat to his left as he approached the towering northern forest. He'd heard the easiest river crossings were in the depths of the woods. And he'd heard that some oddity of the forest kept making Halflings walk straight back out.
For him, this proved no real issue. The forest behaved about the same as any other. Trees blotted out the sun, bushes swelled all around him and an eerie howling of the wind swept the forest into a dance. A wild screech sounded from the left, no from the right. Had it come from behind him? Volkhard stumbled as he turned around, tripped over a root, and landed on a muddy bottom. The screech continued to echo and fade.
Gathering himself and setting off north again, Volkhard was soon at the northern river. His backpack was only a quarter empty, and he'd spent the past half a day nibbling on a loaf of bread to comfort his nerves. As evening fell he set up camp between the woods and the river, tomorrow he'd look for one of those crossings he'd been told of.
He put his backpack of food on his head, gripped it with one hand and held his stick firmly with the other. His shoes and trousers were not made for crossing rivers. As shallow as the water was at the ford he'd found, it wasn't any less cold as it soaked into his feet. Fortunately, only the smallest pocket of his backpack opened as he walked across the river. Unfortunately, it had all the chewing tobacco he'd borrowed for the journey. Volkhard called for it to come back even as it was washed away forever.
The far side of the northern river was open and empty plains that went on as far as the eye could see. And Volkhard had to walk across it looking for something of note to bring word of back to the clan. Three days wander, and only a quarter of his backpack left with food and Volkhard was about ready to consider going home. Maybe he'd walk up that hill over to the west and see what he could see from the top of it first though.
And what he could see was a Tall Folk village. It had a neat little log palisade and a few long houses with smoke steadily rising from chimneys. Naturally, Volkhard wandered down to the village to give it a good look over.
The first thing he came across in the village was a group of Tall Folk children play a game together. Volkhard shuddered, Tall Folk children were a nasty sort, and these ones proved no different. "Ho there Tall Folk, I'm Volkhard Tallowman and I'm here exploring. Which Tribe are you all from?" Their response was not the Tall Folk tongue that Volkhard was long practiced in. This was not a Tribe that had taken part in the Great Migration.
"Are your elders around?" Volkhard took a step forward to have a look past the gathering children. Their response might have been a no or might have been a taunt. Volkhard tilted his head and squinted. The biggest child came to stand right in front of him and poke him in the chest.
Volkhard shook his head and stepped to one side to go find an elder of this Tribe. The child grabbed him by the hair and threw him backwards. The group laughed. Volkhard brought up his stick with a swish and huffed. As the child moved in for a swing, Volkhard answered in kind. The stick thwacked against the ground; the fist knocked Volkhard to the same. A boot struck somewhere along Volkhard's ribs and with a wild lash, Volkhard's stick struck the child on the nose. The shocked gasp and Volkhard's winded standing up was about the end of their little scramble for the building beside them burst into flames.
Arrows rained down on the village and a trio of chariots rushed through the palisade. Spears in hand and the riders laid waste to the denizens of the street. Tall Folk came out of the houses and tried to fight but the charioteers' friends came up into the village and any resistance was broken before it could truly form. A chariot came back around and stopped in front of Volkhard. "No! I'm a Halfling!" And the charioteer understood.
"And I'm an Asoborn. What is a Halfling doing in a Styrigen village?" He waved a hand at the graveyard around them, the blazing buildings illuminating the pair amidst the smoke and ash.
"I was sent out exploring." Volkhard waved his stick at the charioteer who hummed thoughtfully.
"Come aboard then master Halfling, I think Patches should be able to pull your weight too." And he motioned Volkhard onto the chariot. "I am Friedbert Kriesel, master of chariots for my Lady Hemma Hezig."
"I'm Volkhard Tallowman, I'm exploring for Elder Tumbleberry." Friedbert nodded and together they rode out of the collapsing village. Friedbert's warband had been hunting for Styrigen villages in this region for a while now, but they could divert south for a bit to drop Volkhard off home. These chariots were much faster than wagons. You couldn't possibly make a cookchariot however, it wasn't stable enough at all and the food would go everywhere.
The northern river ran across the ground between the plains and the Mootland and they weren't particularly close to the ford that Volkhard had found earlier. "Well then Volkhard, it has been a pleasure to have your company." Volkhard nodded along.
"And yours." He stepped down from the chariot. "And Patches'" An apple from his backpack was summarily delivered to said horse. Volkhard looked up and down the river wondering which way looked most likely to have a ford.
"Is something the matter Volkhard? Can you not swim across the river?" And Volkhard turned back to the Tall Folk.
"Of course, I can swim across the river." He crossed his arms, huffed, and strode into the shallow edge of the river. Friedbert simply watched as Volkhard stepped deeper and deeper. "I can do anything a Tall Folk can do you know. We Halflings aren't children." And Volkhard jumped into a river knowing full well that he had never learnt to swim.
And the river, probably also knowing full well that he couldn't swim, was merciless. Friedbert calling out to Volkhard was the last thing he heard. Until he woke up again in some woods and against the banks of a river. His backpack was entirely gone, and his ribs were even worse than before.
With the rising sun marking East, Volkhard was happy to know he was on the south edge of the river and so probably just in the Northern Forest. Setting off southbound and through the woods was simple enough. His walking stick had to carry most of his weight as he manoeuvred around roots and boulders and kept looking around for the strange shrieking echoes that ringed in his ears and seemed to come from everywhere.
Until a bird the size of him fell from a tree and the shrieking came from firmly in his face. A fluffy bird that seemed to be largely unharmed and yet unable to fly wriggled onto its feet and stared straight at Volkhard. "Ho there." And the bird squawked softly before preening. Volkhard tried to straighten and winced as he stretched a rather sore bruise. A hand to his chest. "I'm Volkhard." The bird hopped from foot to foot, chattering away in its own tongue, and then turned away with tail feathers flapping. If Elder Tumbleberry was here he'd be able to talk to it. Volkhard sighed. Elder Tumbleberry can even talk to aurochs. Apparently they were as dull in conversation as they seemed outside of it.
"Well, I'm going to go this way." And Volkhard gestured homewards. The bird screeched, probably in protest, and came bouncing right back. Fortunately matters were taken out its hands when a parent arrived and scooped the bird up in a single motion before ascending up into the canopy. Hopefully it was a parent and not a predator, the 'parent' had been bigger than an auroch. Maybe as big as a wagon.
The edge of the northern forest was not terribly far after this. With stick in hand Volkhard managed to walk back to Clan Tumbleberry where his ploughs and that marked out farm were being put to good use. The field was fully ploughed and many clanlings were on hand and knee weeding between the rows.
On a bed in an Esmereldan shrinewagon, Volkhard recounted his tale of adventure to Elder Tumbleberry with a few added winces from the prodding of the healer.
With his ribs bound up and pasted over, Volkhard was sent out to enjoy some free time. But with a week or so spare at the end of the month he had time for only two things really.
[] Swimming
Learn to swim. That bout with the river was unkind.
[] Fighting
Learn to fight. You did not make the best showing against that child.
[] Riding
Learn to ride a goat. You'd need to borrow one from the Clan, but the Tall Folk ride animals all the time.
[] Languages
Spend some time learning one of the tongues of the people around you.
- [] Dwarfen
You didn't get much time to learn Dwarfen beyond the basics, find another Halfling to teach you some more.
[] Meet with someone
- [] Clan Elder Tumbleberry
- [] A Tumbleberry Clanling
- [] Family Elder Tallowman
- [] A Tallowman Cousin
- [] Friedbert Kriesel
- [] Someone visits you
[] The Gods
Go around the Shrinewagons and offer prayers to the Pantheon, talk to some shrinetenders.
[] Rest Up
You're injured, you could do with spending some time resting, relaxing and definitely eating.
[] Explore
- [] Go find the big birds again
- [] The eastern wood
- [] Visit the rest of the Clans
