“Well,” said Jason with unfeigned enthusiasm, “it certainly is good to see our daughter making friends!”
“Dear, she’s interrogating the quartermaster about the food,” his wife pointed out. “I’m not sure that counts as making friends.
“He’s smiling!”
“Is that a smile or a grimace?”
“She’s our daughter, dear, of course it’s a smile. Besides.” His own grin faltered a bit. “I was also a little… surprised, maybe, at the food.”
“A half-pound of undifferentiated stuffed loaf.” Cassandra pouted, leaning her head against her husband’s shoulder as they stood by the now-stopped wagons. “No salt, obviously not a proper mix of vitamins, dubiously enough calories. A pound of rations, really?”
Food and Water
People who don't eat or drink suffer the effects of exhaustion. Exhaustion caused by lack of food or water can't be removed until the character eats and drinks the full required amount.
Food
A person needs one pound of food per day and can make food last longer by subsisting on half rations. Eating half a pound of food in a day counts as half a day without food. A person can go without food for a number of days equal to 3 + their Constitution modifier (minimum 1). At the end of each day beyond that limit, a person automatically suffers one level of exhaustion. A normal day of eating resets the count of days without food to zero.
Water
A person needs one gallon of water per day, or two gallons per day if the weather is hot. A person who drinks only half that much water must succeed on a DC 15 Constitution saving throw or suffer one level of exhaustion at the end of the day. A person with access to even less water automatically suffers one level of exhaustion at the end of the day. If the person already has one or more levels of exhaustion, they take two levels in either case.
“I’m more worried about the water,” Jason admitted. “At home, I try to make sure I drink a gallon and a half on any day when I’m working out.”
“Which is every day.” Cassandra ran a hand across his bicep appreciatively. “But I’m actually not worried about it, for now.”
That got her a worried sigh, followed by a quiet rumble of disquiet. A shrug came after those, and then another sigh, this one more contented. “Okay,” her husband said simply. “Let me know if there’s anything I should know, or anything I should do.”
Rolling Insight (Charisma) | 1d20+7
“We’re good on these rules until we deviate,” she clarified quietly. “Harriet knows that. I don’t think she’s just giving the man shit for no reason, though—she wants to know what the lay of the land is when we do, to know if we’re going to be on a clock or what we’re going to have to do.”
“Oh.” Jason’s brown furrowed beautifully. “Three days?”
“Someone probably has a spell component pouch. I don’t,” she admitted, “but there’s at least one spell that needs a pinch of salt, and it’s four pinches a person per day. The good thing is that the component pouches are just as much bullshit as everything else.”
Component Pouch
A component pouch is a small, watertight leather belt pouch that has compartments to hold all the material components and other special items you need to cast your spells, except for those components that have a specific cost (as indicated in a spell's description).
“And the bad news?”
“The bad news is that once we’ve deviated…”
Jason’s brows furrowed further, then cleared. “Three days, then,” he said softly. “But I’ll only be much use for two of them. Gotta have electrolytes.”
“There’s salt as a trade good,” Cassandra commented, “but we don’t have any in the wagons. So we’re going to have to be careful. In the meantime, a pound of rations a day and a gallon of water.”
They smiled at each other, and then their attention was drawn to the centermost of the three wagons, where a man who’d previously been mounted was now standing.
“Oyez! Sentry squad, eyes out—everyone else, watching eyes and listening ears here on me!”
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
The incongruity of the shouted sentence made Cassandra sputter in laughter, which got her a reproachful glance from her husband.
“We’re half a day out from Vale,” orated the former rider, “and we’ve got two and a half days left to get to the Scorpion Cliffs. Once we’re there, we head up the switchbacks at Short Drop Falls and drop off the goods at Short Drop Falls Mines, and yes, I know the name is shit but I did not name them, or they would have been differently shit! We will switch out half of the Wolves on site and return with a different set of goods! On both trips, we exhibit a show of strength so that nobody and nothing fucks with us, and we make it back in five and a half days!”
There was a discontented murmur at that, and both Cassandra and Jason frowned. It was clearly—
Rolling Insight (Charisma) | 1d20+7
Rolling Insight (Wisdom) | 1d20+4
“This is a great plan,” Jason said quietly, beaming. “I’m sure nothing wrong will happen!”
“This is a terrible, bullshit plan,” Cassandra muttered, and Jason gave her a reproachful look.
“That is the plan. But that’s bullshit, and we all know it! And so, to introduce myself before everything inevitably starts going wrong, I am Lieutenant One-Venture-Commanding Surge, level 3 Fighter. When the shit hits the fan, I will ensure that it does not survive.”
Surge squeezed her hands together in a show of what Cassandra recognized as irritation, aggression, and aggravation all rolled into one. She paused in her speech, maybe to let things sink in, and Cassandra took a moment to inspect her visually. She was in armor, something that looked vaguely plate-like but not like the full plate that Lieutenant Gard had been wearing—
Half Plate
Half plate consists of shaped metal plates that cover most of the wearer's body. It does not include leg protection beyond simple greaves that are attached with leather straps.
—and she had an ax of some sort strapped to her back.
BATTLEAXE
Cost: 10 gp
Damage: 1d8 slashing
Weight: 4 lb.
Properties: Versatile (1d10)
Come to think of it, Cassandra thought to herself, isn’t it interesting that there are so many weapons with basically the same attributes? Battleaxes, longswords, and warhammers? She shrugged. There really wasn’t much point in worrying about the difference, or of putting too much thought into the idea that the three weapons were apparently considered to be equivalent in battle.
Instead, she shot Jason a smug look, though she felt bad about it immediately—his own look of reproach had shifted already to a look of respect and gratitude, obviously happy to be with someone who was so much cleverer in the ways of people and their speeches.
It’s like kicking a puppy, she muttered to herself, and not for the first time, as she gave him a hug and watched the beginnings of a hurt look melt into a beaming grin.
“The badlands up north on Main Island are difficult terrain,” Surge resumed in an irritated bellow, distracting the married pair from their moment together. “We’ll be traveling slower there, lucky enough to make half speed.”
Difficult Terrain
The travel speeds given in the Travel Pace table assume relatively simple terrain: roads, open plains, or clear dungeon corridors. But adventurers often face dense forests, deep swamps, rubble-filled ruins, steep mountains, and ice-covered ground--all considered difficult terrain. You move at half speed in difficult terrain--moving 1 foot in difficult terrain costs 2 feet of speed--so you can cover only half the normal distance in a minute, an hour, or a day.
“Furthermore, I am not unaware of the fact that every. Single. Caravan. And transport! GETS AMBUSHED!” She screamed the words out, face red. “Not only that, but every single trip out has exactly two people who are, for whatever reason, either plants or borderline treasonous for their own reasons! Our entire mercenary company is well aware of this, and already taking measures. Whoever you are, I recommend that you go to Caravan Master Mook privately and cut a deal! And if you find such a person, you should also go to Caravan Master Mook!”
She paused, looking around, and her eyes fixated on Cassandra for some reason that the tiefling didn’t care to bother thinking about.
“If I find that someone, anyone in this caravan, has killed another person on suspicion of being a plant? I will kill that person! I will kill her dead! Because that is an act of murder, and a crime! I hope I am clear! If you have any suspicions, you do not act on them yourself, and you do not instigate an investigation as though you are mafia criminals waging war against the police! Starting tomorrow the Two Wolves Company will begin patrols using our carefully-planned system of patrols that will avoid most stupid fucking problems that crop up! That is all, fuck off to whatever you were doing.”
This, apparently, was a perfectly normal briefing from the Lieutenant One-Venture-Commanding, and satisfied all but two onlookers.
“I still have questions,” Cassandra muttered a few minutes later, when she and Jason had met back up with Harriet.
“No shit! I do too.” Harriet shot a knowing look at her father. “Bet dad doesn’t, though.”
“It seemed perfectly fine to me,” the man exclaimed contentedly. “But I know who and what I am. If you ladies want to go ask your more questions, who am I to stop you?”
“Thanks, dad,” Harriet said with an eyeroll. “Come on, mom. I’ll talk to Mook, you talk to Surge?”
“You talk to Mook,” her mother confirmed, then shook her head with a smile. “And I’ll talk to Gard.”