Caravan Master Mook was, indeed, fussing over straps—but not those of the horses.
There were a few of those around, though almost all of them were in stalls or fenced paddocks. The few that weren’t were being carefully checked over—
Mounts and Vehicles
A good mount can help you move more quickly through the wilderness, but its primary purpose is to carry the gear that would otherwise slow you down.
WARHORSE
Cost: 400 gp
Speed: 60 ft.
Carrying Capacity: 540 lb.
—by people in nondescript clothing whose quality belied its unobtrusiveness—these were professionals, professionals whose demeanor and attire and general aesthetic wasn’t right for a small country-side caravan.
Rolling 1D20 against Insight (Charisma) DC 10…
2+6=8
Cassandra scowled. She was missing something, and she was tempted for a moment to push through the bullshit of a die-mediated result to something that should have been hers to grasp by dint of understanding social dynamics. Was she not a professional? Was this not her realm, her domain?
But no, it wasn’t the time for that kind of thing yet.
Instead of watching the horses being saddled—
Saddles
A military saddle braces the rider, helping you keep your seat on an active mount in battle. It gives you advantage on any check you make to remain mounted. An exotic saddle is required for riding any aquatic or flying mount.
—the party of three drifted over towards where the Gnome was fussing with one of the three wagons.
WAGON
Cost: 35 gp
Weight: 400 lb.
“I think that man knows what he’s doing,” Jason murmured as they approached.
“What is he doing?”
Rolling 1D20 against Insight (Wisdom) DC ??
“No idea, little mischief.” He grinned down at his daughter. “But look at the way he moves. He doesn’t hesitate, see? He goes from one place to another like he knows exactly where he’s going, he looks at specific places without searching for them, and he touches one thing after another without hesitating. He definitely knows his job.”
“Or,” she protested, “he knows how to fake it.”
“If he’s a con artist,” Jason said cheerfully, “what’s his job?”
“Being a con artist, ugh.” Harriet looked like she wanted to stop, put her hands on her hips, and huff in irritation. Instead, she kept trotting to keep up, flanked as she was by two people whose walking speed was so much higher than hers. “Are there even people like that here? I mean, there have to be, but you’d think they would, like, die to random wolf attacks or whatever. Or everything they touch would break, because there’s all this random mundane stuff that takes skill checks! Mom, what Skill do con artists use?”
“Deception, dear.”
Deception
Your Charisma (Deception) check determines whether you can convincingly hide the truth, either verbally or through your actions. This deception can encompass everything from misleading others through ambiguity to telling outright lies. Typical situations include trying to fast-talk a guard, con a merchant, earn money through gambling, pass yourself off in a disguise, dull someone's suspicions with false assurances, or maintain a straight face while telling a blatant lie.
“It’s a Charisma Skill,” the sorceress elaborated, leaning down and then looking further down to murmur it in her daughter’s direction. “But I suspect that your father has Disadvantage on it, regardless of what his Skill level or stats may say.”
The girl snickered. “I wonder if people here use the same words for it that you do with your Query bullshit?”
“Eh,” was the answer, followed by a shrug. “It’s not like we’re speaking English,” she eventually said. “The only time we’ve seen a real difference between Query’s results and the local language was… well, I think it was in Worldshatter, where those islands drifting through the Abyssal Void had some sort of memetic virus that stopped them from even being able to think about anything in the Demonic Script.”
“Am I going to get all mad and stuff if I ask why?”
Stolen story; please report.
“It was to stop them from learning about the fundamentals of magic or the reality they were in, dear. To keep them dependent on the frameworks they were allowed to think about, and unable to subvert the magic that had blasted their planet apart and kept them from growing too strong or too attuned to what was happening.”
“Yep,” groused the girl, as though she were resentful not only of the horror being described but at how indignant and upset it was threatening to make her feel. “That’s definitely a yep to my question. You coulda just said yep.”
“Game faces, ladies.”
At Jason’s soft words, two sets of shoulders went straight and two eyes went front, just in time for them to catch the notice of the gnome.
He didn’t stop what he was doing immediately. Instead, he nodded to them once jerked his head towards an open space a bit behind him and to his right, which they could see was out of the flow of traffic. They watched him work steadily down the side of the wagon, checking every strap and fitting with a keen eye and set of motions that they had absolutely no context on. Then, and only then, did he step back from the wagon, brush his hands off, stretch, and turn to face them.
RACIAL INFORMATION: GNOME
Any gnome has certain characteristics in common with all other gnomes.
Ability Score Increase: Intelligence score increases by 2.
Age: Gnomes mature at the same rate humans do, and most are expected to settle down into an adult life by around age 40. They can live 350 to almost 500 years.
Alignment: Gnomes are most often good. Those who tend toward law are sages, engineers, researchers, scholars, investigators, or inventors. Those who tend toward chaos are minstrels, tricksters, wanderers, or fanciful jewelers. Gnomes are good-hearted, and even the tricksters among them are more playful than vicious.
Size: Gnomes are between 3 and 4 feet tall and average about 40 pounds. Their size is Small.
Speed: A Gnome’s base walking speed is 25 feet.
Darkvision: Accustomed to life underground, Gnomes have superior vision in dark and dim conditions. They can see in dim light within 60 feet of them as if it were bright light, and in darkness as if it were dim light. They can’t discern color in darkness, only shades of gray.
Gnome Cunning: Gnomes have advantage on all Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma saving throws against magic.
Languages: Gnomes can speak, read, and write Common and Gnomish. The Gnomish language, which uses the Dwarvish script, is renowned for its technical treatises and its catalogs of knowledge about the natural world.
“Tiefling Sorceress, halfling Ranger, half-orc Paladin,” the Gnome said in a rapid-fire staccato that was completely unaware of the flood of information streaming into Cassandra’s mind. “Scholar’s Guild insignia, Leo’s seal on your letter of introduction—yes, yes, I can tell it’s his from the spellwork, no, I won’t teach you how—and the girl moves like she’s thirteen but carries a proper bow. You’re the Claires.” He tilted his head to the side, then shook it from side to side abruptly. “Right! Good, good, welcome, we leave the moment we have everyone, you lot were the only ones who didn’t know that, now you know not to be the ones who slow us down. You can outwalk the oxen, stay with the wagons until we get to the lunch spot, then we talk duties.”
Rolling 1D20+4 against Insight (Wisdom) DC ??
Rolling 1D20+1 against Insight (Wisdom) DC ??
Rolling 1D20+7 against Insight (Charisma) DC ??
“You can ask, sir,” Jason said with a gentle smile. “We don’t mind.”
“Hmph.” The gnome smiled sharply after a moment, head cocked quizzically again. He gave the three of them an assessing look, each in turn, then returned his gaze to the hulking Paladin for another, longer searching look. “You aren’t all muscle, are you,” he murmured slowly.
“Well, boss,” the half-orc responded, still smiling, “that’s very kind of you to say.”
The Caravan Master paused, chewing on his lower lip, then nodded briskly. “She ain’t adopted,” he said in his prior brisk patter. “Can’t tell that by the body language, by the eyes, by the way you look at each other, all that’s nonsense, adoptive parents, they can love their children as much, shape their children, just as much as any biological one. Still know, won’t say, no need to tell. Don’t know how a half-orc and a tiefling had a halfling girl. Don’t need to know, won’t pry, anyone does pry and won’t stop if you tell ‘em to, you tell me. Understand?”
“We can handle—”
The gnome rounded on Cassandra with a heated look and a sudden fury in his body language. “Young lady,” he snapped, “did I say you may or please? We travel through badlands! We travel on shitfuck oxcrap roads through terrain whose passability is absolute ass, surrounded by undead and spiders bigger than I am, though I understand that this may not seem quite as impressive to bigjobs up yonder there! If your references are truthful, I have run this trading company longer than all three of you have been alive! When I give an order, unless you have information that I do not which makes that order patently absurd, I expect to be obeyed!”
A “Yes, boss!” and an “Understood!” overlapped. The ears of the Caravan Master twitched and he looked down at the almost-cowering halfling, trying with remarkable success to hide behind her father’s leg, and the gnome sighed.
“Listen, girlie,” he said morosely, “I ain’t the family type, never got along with the nibs, I mean business all the time, but you won’t find me mean, not for no reason. But bad blood makes for bad work and bad workers, y’hear?” He turned his eyes to the two adults, sticking his thumbs in two of the pockets of his coveralls. “Anyone who pries and won’t stop, that’s an anyone that ain’t fit to be working in my company. And if it’s a merc, well, I don’t hire Two Wolves so that they can get smart with other folk in the trip. Nine times outta ten, some fucker won’t be polite? That’s a plant, one way or another. Tenth outta ten, it’s just some asshole, but it’s my job to deal with the prick, understand?”
“We understand,” Jason said firmly, and the other two nodded.
“You don’t get pack space, and Fitz just showed, so you better not have anything that ain’t on you right now because we are leaving soon’s I’m done checking the last of the strapping.” Mook turned away from them, striding to the other side of the wagon. He paused before he rounded the corner, just long enough to stab a finger towards where they were standing. “Stay there. Stay ready to leave. I want us wheels-rolling in ten minutes.”
Appropriately chastened and on the verge of laughter, the three waited obediently for the adventure to start.