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The World of Georic 1989-Present

Tuesday, October 16, 2018

Lost Dispatches of Feraso #3 - The Toll of Travel

To His Lordship, the Viscount Wilfrick of Verbobonc,

I have received word from the honorable Torben Mikkelsen that you find my proposed correspondence pleasing to the needs of Verbobonc.  For that I am eternally grateful.

To add two additional addenda to my previous letter:  I discovered the need to get proper training from an experienced horseman to properly ride Marigold.  I hired a fine gentleman, Julius Mork, in the town of Taymouth, and I gained sufficient experience and confidence to ride further across the Viscounty.

Upon using Master Mork's techniques of quick, short, explosive, and sometimes vulgar commands of the horse, I have shortened her name to Mary.

I discovered that horseback riding is not the only skill that I find lacking after a decade of solid work as a scribe, but general conversation with fellow citizens is quite difficult.  While I'm already quite wary of newfound "friends" in the inns and the rare tavern I frequent, I'm finding the bureaucracy of the collective kingdom of Ras-Prythax to be lacking in any direct guidance from Feraso City.

The Krugraf and the subsequent line of noble grants have provided a fine road system for those on foot, on horseback, or guiding a caravan through Verbobonc.  It is of no surprise to anyone with a basic understanding of governance that operating taxes, in the form of an occasional toll, should be exacted from the travelers at certain intervals.  What I was quite taken aback by was the utter disregard for the rules or consistency in how those tolls are demanded by the agents of the crown or your noble house.

In my travels on the River Road for a few dozen leagues from Taymouth to Eastguard, I encountered no less than a dozen separate individuals claiming a proper payment of passage.  Some had the audacity to not even state their authority under your noble title or that of Krugraf Mykul!  In hindsight, I might consider, with all respect to your title and rank, that these men might have been working as toll collectors independently, without your blessing!

Upon arriving at the outpost in Eastguard, I was calmed by a return to civilization, albeit one dominated by the martial arm of Ras-Prythax power.  So long as I dealt with goverment officials, soldiers, and shopkeepers during daylight hours, I made tremendous progress.  Once the sun set, I was forced to doubt the sincerity of all their motives.

My one great purchase at Eastguard was a fine sword, with an impressive scabbard that straps to my back.  While it does cause some interference with my cloak when the sky is unsure of rain, it has done wonders during my subsequent travel to Caltaran.  Despite a much shorter trip, I still encountered three small groups or individuals who pondered asking me for a toll.  I only needed to speak confidently in two of those locations to be allowed free passage, and in the third, a quick flash of the blade and the individuals stepped back, allowing me to catch the back end of a caravan.  I escorted the caravan in as a courtesy to the merchant operating it, and in return for my kindness, the merchant covered the one silver fare to cross the Serrault River by ferry into Caltaran.
The lead wagon of Hagen Grassl's caravan reaches Caltaran.
To add a written reminder here for myself and His Lordships record, perhaps I should get some training for this sword before I'm forced to use it.

I don't think His Lordship is interested in personal reports on weather and harvest, as none are particularly negative or exemplary.  I'm pondering continuing to travel up the VerWillip River to its terminus in Willip, outside your domain.  However, after speaking with the merchant, a wily fellow named Hagen Grassl, I've been invited to follow the caravan in the wilds land of the Wyrmnal.  With the Barony of Willip between the Northmen and us, we rarely encounter any of their alleged raids and plundering, it might be wise to take a direct scholarly approach and observe these violent people under the protection of caravan guard.

Unless, of course, Hagen anticipates me becoming a caravan guard.

Hopefully still alive upon your receipt of this letter, still in your services.

-Elsderth

GM Notes: The first part of assembling a story about a campaign from thirty years ago, that I have very little recollection of, is to rebuild the world I knew back then, and add thirty years of updates, web searches, and fan-created material.  

The campaign originally started in Verbobonc, for reasons soon quite apparent  to old school gamers familiar with Greyhawk.  As the published worlds of TSR all sort of merged together over the course of the campaign, I find it better to merged the elements into my own World of Georic campaign with the updated map.  


Outside of the borders and towns for Verbobonc, everything will be wildly different and certainly non-Greyhawk.  No Furyondy, no Bandit Kingdoms, not even a City of Greyhawk (although Feraso City is loosely inspired by it... as capital of the largest Empire on the continent).  


Elsderth hasn't encountered the campaign heroes yet, so a quick side trip into the viking territories of Wyrmnal are in order to satiate an inquisitive mind.  It has been a country or countries discussed in every iteration of the campaign.  


Next: #4 - The Theocratic Barony of Willip

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