Gathering supplies for the road

You make your way back to your chambers, the demonic canister in tow. Once inside you begin to pack your belongings, who knows when or even if you will ever return. A few robes, a sacrificial dagger, abyssal scriptures, research notes, and alchemy supplies are all your personal possessions. You neatly divide them between a backpack and a satchel before heading to the cult's storeroom. There you are greeted by the quartermaster, Brenna. She is an aged woman well past her prime. It is rumored she once birthed a notoriously brutal demon that ravaged the land for years before finally being hunted down by a group of many adventurers. The stories are unclear on the outcome of their battle but neither the demon nor the adventurers have been heard of since.

"Greetings Herald." Her old voice cracks in the dry air. "The Grand Warlock has instructed me to have a wagon prepared for you. You will find it outside." The old woman then hands you a sack. "Clothes for your journey. The Grand Warlock suggested you disguise yourself as a merchant during your travels."

You take the sack from her and peer inside. It is filled with simple but clean clothes befitting a merchant of minor success. "Thank you, Brenna. May Grevakhnu guide you." You give the respected older woman a bow.

"And you as well." She returns the blessing of your dark mistress.

You quickly change clothes and pack your robes away with your other belongings to head for the exit of the cult's lair. Outside you find the cart the old woman mentioned, hitched to two horses. It is modest but packed with what appears to be farming supplies, tools, and even a few simple weapons. It is being watched by one of Breanna's attendants. Upon noticing you he gives a deep bow, going almost to his knees before you.

"Herald of Grevakhnu." He states firmly with respect. "Please allow me to take your things." The young acolyte takes your bags and stows them in the back of the cart. "I packed you some extra food. Here in the front of the cart sir." He gestures to a sack behind the bench seat. "And in this crate, you will find ritual supplies." He indicated a large wooden crate next to the sack of food.

"Good." Is your only reply as you climb up with your demonic canister still in hand. The night sky lit brightly by a full moon, you take in your surroundings. Here in the foothills, there was really only one direction to travel, especially by wagon. The road was a few miles east along the river. You could follow it south to a crossroads that would lead you over a bridge and to the farmlands west of the capital. From there Gramsby should be easy enough to find.

"It has been an honor, Herald. May Grevakhnu guide you, sir." The acolyte stammers timidly. Your attention returns to the boy. You had almost forgotten him.

"May Grevakhnu guide you." You say as you take the reins from him, whipping them to set your horses in motion and the wagon lumbering forward.