Tuesday, May 27, 1650
Serafina will lead the party down into Sion, to a rather rundown and ancient little Inn called “the Italian” … judging from the timbers it might have been built when the Lombards ruled northern Italy. The doorway is skewed and very narrow, enough that any large human would have to remove their backpack in order to edge inside. Serafina satisfies herself with calling inside: “Renaldo!” There is a pause and she calls again.
A short, mustached Italian, typically light-skinned like a Piedmontese, comes to the door rubbing his hands together with a towel. “Signorina? Is that you? I did not expect to see you … ever again.”
“Yes, I know Renaldo. I’ve come for my things.”
“But why? And what are you doing with these men?” Renaldo looks at the rest of the party distrustfully, as though he might do something.
“These men are my friends, Renaldo. I have come for my things. Now you will get them for me.” Serafina’s voice has a strong hint of nobility in it, although the party is well aware that she has no noble blood in her – that is the reason Hornung spurned her. The effect is definite upon Renaldo, who throws aside the towel and steps out of the door.
He seems unhappy, but he says, “This way then.” He walks down the narrow lane upon which the Inn faces, six or seven feet wide, down a short flight of stairs and then into a wider street. Here, on the same wall as the inn, are four sets of double doors, very sturdy, barred and bolted shut. Renaldo slips a ring of keys from beneath his doublet, undoes the first door, then elicits Avel’s aid in lifting the bar.
Inside, you see a carriage, very dusty (three or four years worth), harnesses for horses on the wall, 50’ of rope, a grapple, a suit of chain armor which would seem of size for an elf, three keg-sized sacks tied with twine, and two kegs. At the back of the carriage are three large boxes, the lids nailed shut. The carriage has plenty of room, would easily sit six persons and carry four hundred pounds of additional goods to boot.
“You will give me two horses, as agreed?” asks Serafina.
“Yes,” answers Renaldo. “It will not make my brother happy. He has grown fond of the two ponies you gave me. They are beautiful animals now.”
“Your brother will forgive me. It can’t be helped. Send for them … I wish to leave immediately today.”
“I will go for them myself. And send water for you to wash down the carriage.”
Serafina looks at it. “Yes, most helpful.”
It will take a few hours, in which case I assume everyone will pitch in; the carriage will save considerable time in returning to Dachau.
(OOC: Delfig, in answer to your question regarding hirelings and henchmen. Hirelings are those who work for pay, while henchmen are persons who have been so moved by your eminence that they must be with you and suffer your trials. At fifth level, I allow characters to ‘roll’ a second character, who becomes your fanatic henchman … ie, you run him/her.
Hirelings are different; usually, you can’t simply hire them at a strange place, for as I always point out, you have no credit. In Dachau, where Hornung - or Jan, had he lived - can vouch for you, hirelings would be available. Here in Sion, if Serafina were convinced, she could vouch for you to gain hirelings. But as a stranger in a town, who would trust you?
Sometimes you can convince a single guide or individual to agree to work for pay, but generally you will wind up with criminals or near-criminals, as the kind of person who would work for a complete stranger - and a foreigner - would probably be on the game.
Typically, a hireling is paid three months wages, in advance, so that two months of that can be given directly to his family, and a months worth for provisions. I don’t expect the party to provide any goods for a hireling except weapons and armor, if needed. Otherwise, the hireling will come along with whatever they have, typically leather and a club).