The Triboar Trail, Chapter 1. Reunions

1.1 Waterdeep

A final burst of laughter escapes Tinkerella’s signature pink lips as she extinguishes the conjured flickering flame with a wave of her hand. Ignoring Ivandale Nightthorn’s extended hand, she bounds from the cart, saying her goodbyes to the giggling children she was entertaining. Ivandale shoots an apologetic look and a ‘thank you’ to the parents who had given them a ride on their cart along the last few miles on the High Road.

After two long weeks traveling along the Trade Way, the two members of the Rangers of Red Larch have finally arrived in Waterdeep. Dirty, tired, and sore - the pair find an affordable inn with similar characteristics on Carter’s Way in the Southern Ward. It’s a safe place to stow their packs before they head out in search of food and entertainment.

A tavern across the street offers a warm hearth, warm ale, and an opportunity to eavesdrop on local gossip. They’ve travelled unusually far for a single job and hope to discover a few more profitable ventures before returning to the guild hall in Red Larch. Far enough from the Dock Ward to offer some degree of safety, this tavern caters to all number of passer-through who are thin on copper.

Ivandale surveys the open seats near the fire and spots a few near a lone figure staring morosely into a tall glass. He taps Tinkerela on the shoulder and walks over to the distraught elf. Taking the closest seat and asks, “Nalf Feycrown? How long has it been?”

Clearly not expecting company, the elf looks up. His eyes bleary and surprised, the deep-set frown-lines begin to unknit. Slightly distracted by Tinkerella’s wild hair, he finally sets his eyes on the copper-skinned elf standing next to him. A smile splits his hard-fixed frown, “Ivan! Really? Too long!”

“Ivan? Ha!”, laughs Tinkerella. “I’m calling you Ivan from now on too! Ivan and Tink has a great ring to it! Don’t you think?”

Ivandale rolls his eyes ever so slightly. Unable to hide his smile, he responds, “Actually, it’s Ivandale since I left home. Can we join you?”

Without waiting for an answer, Tinkerella climbs into a seat and signals the barkeep. Ivandale and Nalfos begin catching up. As young elves, their paths crossed occasionally and they became friends. In the past hundred or so years, Ivandale’s own ambitions have taken him away from his parent’s business, separating the two.

Ivandale notices Nalfos’s interest pick up whenever Tinkerella mentions some of their recent adventures. He decides to invite Nalfos to join them on their current contract. The extra protection will be helpful, and they can spare a fair part of the profit they expect to earn.

The hearth has been left to smolder as the trio leave the tavern. Ivandale provides Nalfos with the arrangements to meet Gundren Rockseeker, their employer, nearby at dawn the following morning.

1.2 Employment

As planned, the three round a corner and enter a small store yard. Two oxen hitched to a covered cart suck water from a trough. A dwarf carefully evaluates and marks a long scroll while a well armored bodyguard surveys the grounds. He clears his throat as the group enters. The Dwarf looks up quickly. Ivandale turns down the collar of his cloack revealing a badge bearing a red larch tree, a guild crest belonging to members of the Rangers of Red Larch. The Dwarf fixes a furious stare at him. “Three? The agreement was two!”, he scolds, pointing a stubby finger at his parchment.

“The guild believes that the opportunity to do business with such an esteemed businessman warranted an additional set of hands. At no additional cost, of course.”

“Ah. Well, if it wont cost more…”, the Dwarf trails off as he adjusts a few numbers before continuing. “Sildar here and I will ride ahead. We’re needed in advance of the shipment. The three, no. Four now I suppose. The four of you will bring the wagon to Barthen’s Provisions in Phandalin. It’s a four and a half day wagon ride with these oxen, and I expect you on time. There’s a map on the bench. It’s probably going to be a little tight, but that’s on you.”

Craning her neck and peering around, Tinkerella asks, “What do you mean ‘four’ Gundren? Who else do you mean?”

Sildar answers while assisting the Dwarf to a saddle. “He means the Barbarian in the back. Leave her be and let her work if it comes to it. She’s handy in a fight, but not much for conversation.”

Both groups set out from the stock yard. Gundren and Sildar quickly leave the group behind as they nimbly maneuver through Waterdeep’s morning traffic on their horses. Nalfos urges the oxen onto the Southern Road as they make their way through the South Gate. The trip along the High Road passes quickly. The Elves continue to catch up while Tink passes the time with her pet Pika and greeting other travelers. Little more than a snore escapes the canvas concealing the sleeping Barbarian.

The High Road is open and well travelled. On the third evening they turn onto the Triboar Trail. It is a much more secluded path with few signs of civilization. The trio pushes the oxen on cautiously. They soon discover an obstruction on the road ahead.

1.3 Trial and Fire

Unable to pass and sensing an ambush, Nalfos quickly draws the oxen to a halt. The three adventurers jump to the ground and take a defensive position behind the open cart.

Ivandale points ahead, into the underbrush just past the dark masses on the trail. “Movement! I can’t make it out, but there’s something there.” He and Nalfos draw their bows, hoping to get a jump on attackers before they can strike.

“Waaaait!”, yells Tinkerella. “You’re just going to shoot someone without actually seeing them? What if there’s someone hurt up there!”

Ivandale lowers his bow, considering Tinkerella’s request. He starts to devise an alternative strategy that doesn’t put them in harms way. “OK, I should be able to creep through the…”

Nalfos’s bow releases an arrow with a sharp ‘thwish’ in the direction Ivandale pointed. It disappears into the thicket, it’s flight ending with a dull ‘thunk’.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Tinkerella checks on her pet pika. The animal, sensing danger crouches low in her jacket pocket.

“New plan”, whispers Ivandale. “You two, wake the Barbarian. I’m going to creep through the brush and try to get a closer look at the roadblock. I think I can sneak close without being seen.”

Turning his back on the cart, he starts into the wood on the high-side of the road. An arrow whips through the air near his head and splinters on the hard-packed dirt road. A second arrow barely misses him as well, embedding itself in the cart. Two shrill goblin cries rend the air from the source of the arrows. The war cries resound in stereo as another pair spring from the low-side of the road. Surprised, the adventurers reach for their weapons.

Tinkerella, the first to regain her senses hurls a conjured mote of flame at one of the bowmen in the brush. The goblin is instantly incinerated, reduced to a flash of soot as it’s accomplice releases a third arrow at her. The arrow sinks deep into her shoulder, flinging her to the ground. The sword wielding goblins close on Nalfos. He avoids a quick thrust, but the second sword slashes hard across his chest drawing a plume of blood.

Ivandale sprints to the remaining archer. He cleaves the goblins head with a single swing and turns to his friends, reaching for his own short bow.

From the ground, Tinkerella releases a second blast of flame. She strikes another goblin in the chest, causing it to drop it’s rusty, twisted sword.

Nalfos thrusts his sword into the belly of the second goblin and with a smile, rips the blade free leaving carnage in it’s wake.

Disarmed, severely burned, and alone, the remaining goblin turns and flees. Nalfos yells, “Don’t let it escape!” as Ivandale releases his arrow. The tip skewers through the goblin’s back, sending it tumbling. Dead before it comes to a halt.

As she catches her breath and stands up, Tinkerella tends to the arrow in her shoulder and magically heals her wound. She checks the gash on Nalfos’s chest and repairs the cut, the only sign of the injury left is the damage to his armor.

Before returning to the wagon, Ivandale inspects the obstruction further down the road. He realizes the two dark shapes are fallen horses. Goblin arrows sticking up from their rib cages like wicked flags. He recognizes these horses. The last time he saw them, they were leaving Waterdeep bearing the weight of Gundren and Sildar. Light luggage litters the road near the horses. The contents of each pilfered by the ruthless attackers. A small foot trail exits the road into a nearby trail. Small footprints and deep drag marks visible in the dirt.

Ivandale picks up a map case, appreciating the unusually fine craftsmanship. He returns to his friends, glad to see them in good shape. He slips the thin case into the cart and describes the grisly scene ahead.

The adventures find themselves in a troublesome predicament. They can not leave the wagon full of goods idle for fear of opportunists, but they suspect their employers may be captured. Nalfos suggests that they hide the cart just off the trail. They clear the scene to not give cause to slow down for any travelers passing through.

The three adventurers sleep under the cart, taking turns keeping watch throughout the night. The only disturbances are the snores and shifting of a drunken barbarian woman.