Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil IC

[Sallera]

Dust, grit, and the occasional cloud of dandelion seeds blow past the windows of the small inn in outer Verbobonc, relics of the lack of rain this past week. The wind, at least, is enthusiastic enough, but the Basil Vine is well constructed if poorly named, and comfort is easy enough to find inside for a reasonable price. One that, it must be said, is welcome, for some of you are down to your last few coins. Peace is a welcome thing, but it does have its downsides for certain professions.

The door creaks open to admit a young pale-skinned monk in burgundy robes, his hair worn long after the fashion of Obad-Hai's devotees. "Ah, good day to you, brothers, sister. I am pleased to find you so easily. You have some time, I hope?" The man is vaguely familiar to Cecily and Tironius; most likely they had met him at the local monastery.

"I am Brother Thalos, as you may remember. The abbot was most pleased with the books you brought; he has sent me on quite a different matter. A letter came from one Ostler Gundigoot, of Hommlet, two days to the south; it seems the merchant who usually sells him the wine from our vineyards is days late, and will not likely be showing up. At any rate, he has purchased a good quantity from our order directly, and requested we seek out someone to ensure it reaches him safely. I believe he fears the worst became of the other one, and he has offered twenty five gold each for the delivery."

Thalos nods to Tironius. "You came to mind at once, I think. I know I would be quite safe entrusting such a valuable cargo to a fellow seeker of enlightenment. And we believe the rest of you to be capable and honourable as well. Will you accept the offer?"

Brother Tironius (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=467704)
Hrolf (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=499030)
Gwern Cadeyrn (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=674937)
Grashnor (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=817204)

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

A blue-haired bespectacled woman sits in the far corner of the common room. Her traveling dress is still dusty from the city's streets, and her large opaque glasses have an air of disappointment about them. Her black overcoat hangs loosely on her shoulders, and she's slumped over a small rounded table with her head resting atop the hard wood. A little black-and-white ferret wearing a very large amber collar pokes Cecily's head with his paws. The young wizard just huffs at Lunch, turns her head to face away from him, and sighs. She's clearly moping about something or the other, but doesn't speak about whatever her problems are. Anyone who's known her for very long can likely guess the reason: Someone refused to lend her a book she liked, and now she's sulking. This always happens anytime the group stops in a large city and someone is stingy with their reading material. Cecily's so engrossed in her moping she doesn't even notice the Obad-Hai monk enter the tavern.

Lunch, not caring for his Mistress' human problems, chitters angrily at her before jumping off the table. He dashes across the inn's floor aiming toward Kholzug. If the barbarian-turned-ranger doesn't stop him, then the little ferret darts up the half-orc's leg and stops to rest on his shoulder. It chitters happily at Kholzug, then chitters at the newcomer.

[TheFallenOne]

Tironius nods without a hint of emotion. He is sitting crosslegged on his chair, having spent the last few minutes contemplating the simple copper coin between his fingers with utmost attention. "Ensuring the safety of wine doesn't hold the grace of doing the same with books, but your monastery needs its worldly goods to pursue the enlightenment of the mind. An unpleasant truth it is a troubled road might hurt in your reading, writing and learning, but never must we shie away from the truth, for it derives its value from its very nature. I will lend my aid in this matter, Brother Thalos, and ensure the safety of your delivery to Hommlet."

[Miraqariftsky]

Kholzug the Cleaver

A broken chair leg whistles through the air and cracks a hulking figure from behind as he slumps forward over the bar. Seen only by the seemingly unconcerned bartender who keeps on cleaning a cup, the scarred halforc who'd swayed forward in the nick of time, grins lopsidedly.

The wielder crows at a crowd of his cronies and drunkenly yells at his mark, "Datsch wotchu get fer messin' wid my girl, orc-scum bastard!"

The halforc suddenly slips off his stool and pivots with such swiftness that belies his behemoth bulk. He looms over the drunk and grates out while calmly counting out points on his fingers. "First, we brought 'er back 'ere safe and sound. Second, iffen I reads ye correckly, looks like she mightha been better off staying on the road. Third..."

The large warrior in the bearskin cloak lunges, grabs the sot by his shirt-front and growls into his face. "...nobody sez bad tings abaht mah mudder!" He then headbutts the man and hurls the him into his buddies, knocking down like ninepins. Some of them crash into other patrons of the Basil Vine and soon enough, curses and cries, chair legs and chicken legs, bottles and bodies are flying through the commons as an all-out brawl rages.

The halforc snatches up the falling chair-leg and parries another assailant hard enough to carry the blow through, wooden club and wooden bar sandwiching the sod's head with a meaty crack. He then tosses a clinking pouch of coins at the barkeep. "Hey! Sorreh fer the mess!"

The halforc keeps on whistling as he takes in both hands a tray heavy laden with trenchers of roast beef, black bread and steaming onions, carrots and mashed potatoes, all dribbling with butter and drowning in gravy. He tries to move carefully, so as to avoid spillage, but there were a couple of times when he had to let the mail beneath his overtunic do its job, set the tray down and beat back yet more drunken bravos and brawlers.

Along the way, he has to repress his reflexes as he feels something scrambling up his pant leg. A huge finger pats the ferret on its little head as the chittering creature mounts up between two of Kholzug's pauldron-spikes. "Hey, ya liddle rat. Good dodging and weaving ya got there" He stiffens for a moment when he sees the newcomer, but seeing as his companions apparently don't consider him a threat, he shrugs and continues on his way, dodging drunks and kicking clods.

He plonks the tray of dinner onto their table and steps back to let the tavern wench who'd been trailing behind him, bearing eight tall tankards of drink. Once those have been safely set down, the barbarian pounces upon the buxom barmaid with a savage embrace. At the first sign of displeasure, he lets her go immediately, bowing. As the wench stumbles off, flicking two fingers on each hand in a vulgar gesture, Kholzug laughs uproariously, grabs one of the tankards, drains the beer therein and slams it down hard on the tabletop.

The wildsman pushes one of the plates towards Cecily and shakes her shoulder with a heavy yet surprisingly gentle hand. He grates at her with a smile and one of their old jokes--- "Hey Cez. Five sov'reigns, just tell me whose face to break. Ten sov'reigns if ye want me to just filch the book, eh?"

He then bows over a fist on his shoulder towards Brother Thalos and says while pushing one of the plates towards him. "May the gods smile on you and yours, Father. 'Ere, 'elp yerself. Wot seems ta be the trouble, yer holiness?"

[Anderkent]

Farin

The elf has been resting until now, hands wrapped around a cup of mulled wine. Prompted by Kholzug's return, he opens his eyes and moves over, one hand inviting the brother to sit down.

"Sit down, Brother, and dine with us. We'll gladly hear the details. Don't worry about the mess. Kholzug may have a tendency to provoke brawl, but he's even better at keeping it away from friends."

Turning to address the half-ofc, Farin continues half-jokingly: "Which brings me to the point, I like this place. Can't you handle a drunken old man without destroying an inn? It'll take days..."

His tirade is interrupted as the elf saves his drink from being spoiled. Farin catches mid-air what turns out to be a chicken bone, catapulted from the other side of the inn by some brawler's table throw. With a look of disgust, he throws it into a refuse bucket a couple tables away.

"It'll take days to clean this up."

Hommlet, huh. I had no idea I was this close. I suppose my aimless travel was not as aimless as I thought.

[Sallera]

The keeper glances angrily between Kholzug and the other patron as the fight breaks out, clearly contemplating retributive measures, but as Kholzug tosses the pouch of coin on the bar, he apparently decides to focus on the others instead. Pulling a crossbow from beneath the bar, he winds it back with a decisive click and levels it in the general direction of anyone still brawling. "Right, that's it. All o' ye, outside, now. Ye can come back in an hour or two when ye've cooled off." Five patrons shuffle outside guiltily, the two of them who refuse to be separated being dragged off by the others to continue their dispute in the street. Grumbling as he puts the flatbow away, he glares half-heartedly at Kholzug. "And that's enough o' that, aye? Ye start any more fights, ye'll not get off so easy."

Taking a seat with a practiced obliviousness to the scene around him, Thalos accepts a plate gratefully. "Thank you, your hospitality is most welcome. Hommlet is roughly ten leagues from here on the southern road; the terrain is mostly plains and scrub, and the road is well-enough maintained. It is supposed to be patrolled, as well, but of course that can't account for every danger. Master Gundigoot has promised the coin on successful delivery; we have the oxcart he sent loaded at the monastery, so you should be able to set off first thing in the morning if you wish."

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

Cecily sits in a tiny bubble of peace. Brawlers, no matter how drunk or disorderly, wouldn't risk upsetting an obvious wizard on the off-chance that he or she was vindictive. Naturally, Cecily would never use her magic for revenge against common drunks, but there were precious few other perks to being a wizard so she enjoyed the peace and quiet it afforded her. If any of the drunken patrons get close enough, then she politely reminds them to keep their distance with a small spurt of acid aimed at the floor or a cup. Sure, destroying things was bad, but hurting people was worse so it was a small price to pay.

The wizard looks up at Kholzug, smiles, then shakes her head. She doesn't take more than a biscuit from the pile of food thrown at her, and drinks plain water rather than alcohol. She'd never drank alcohol, but her reasoning behind it was rather sound: It'd ruin her ability to cast spells. Nonetheless, Cecily does respond to Kholzug's joke with one of her own. "Five sovereigns just to beat someone up? Sir, you might be getting old if it takes that much coin to make you want to hurt somebody."

The wizard finally sits upright, and stops sulking. Just in time too, as the innkeeper ends all the fighting. Cecily looks toward the monk just as Lunch leaps off Kholzug's shoulder and starts eating whatever Cecily hadn't touched. The wizard nods her head toward Brother Thalos. "Good evening, Sir. Cecily Cielani", the wizard extends a hand toward the good brother, "at your service." She looks toward Farin and Tirondus, then shrugs. "So, what are we doing?"

If circumstances are explained, then Cecily just nods. "Well, if I'm going to continue onward then I'll certainly need the coin. Is Hommlet a place with a lot of work opportunities?"

Cecily makes a Know(History) and Know(Local) check concerning Hommlet. She takes 10 and gets 17 on both.

[Anderkent]

Farin

"We've got a job, apparently." - Farin answers Cecily's question, and recapitulates the offer - "One-time thing, if I understand it correctly, but it's not far away - even if we don't find anything there and come back, the pay is decent for a five days trip."

"Well, I don't have anything better to do, and could use some cash. I'm in, if you decide to go. Tomorrow's fine." - the elf grabs a food plate, waiting for others to confirm the decision.

[Miraqariftsky]

"Sorreh!" Kholzug calls out to the keeper. "Twenny guilders be more'n 'nough coverage fer the lot, and the change from earlier?"

"Tsk, mamzel." Kholzug snorts around a snarfing mouthful of food. "Purty shore moralsh ---schmunch--- be puttin' a cremp on merc work. Or, lesh flow'ry, less call't a friendly discount, hrhmm?"

The halforc grins reekingly full in Farin's face. "Ye think this is bad? Hah! Back in the day..."

While shoveling in another chunk of meat and onions, he pushes one of the tankards towards her. He may be savage, but he's not stupid not to have picked up on the quirks and preferences of his companion of... a dozen rides and twice that in moon-turns? He washes down his mouthful with a belching guzzle, then says, "Here's a riddle fer ye--- Woss sometimes black or green, yellah or naught / Leafy lot in cuppa watah dass hot / Breath nor brain't brings no rot?"

The scarred warrior nods at the others, pointing with his jutting jaw at another of the vessels. "'Snutha, well, 'alf a them's tea, y'all. 'Pparently, wild mushrooms and wild fowl fetch some good drink-leaf hereabouts. Take wossev's takin'."

"Aye, aye, all's good wirrat, padre" he says, agreeing with the priest's offer, continuing to wolf down some good damned dinner while trying to recall what he could of Hommlet.


Following suit with... HUH. I forgot to tack down some Know: Local?
Oh well.
Know: Geography, then. [roll0]

[TheFallenOne]

For a second Tironius's eyebrow rises the slightest amount at the word 'riddle', but it quickly subsides. It is true making sense of difficult sentences was part of his work, but sometimes the reason for the difficulty also meant there was little value gained in deciphering this riddle inside a riddle. "Leaving tomorrow sounds good, when we're all rested and sober. Your wine will be delivered safe and untouched." He spins the copper coin over his knuckles without paying it much attention. "This merchant you mentioned, did he disappear between Hommlet and your monastery or at some other place?"

[Sallera]

"I'm not sure about what work might be found there, sister, but it is a prosperous town. I'm sure you could find something to do." Thalos shrugs amiably, clearly enjoying the keeper's cooking. "As to the merchant, well, that I can't say. It's certainly possible; if you happen to find where he ended up, I'm sure there are some who'd appreciate knowing. That said, don't put too much mind to it. Keeping yourselves and your goods safe comes first."

"Come by the monastery in the morning, and we'll have everything packed and ready for you."

Cecily:Hommlet is a prosperous town indeed, despite its size, due partly to its location on a well-travelled crossroads and partly to the fertile farmland in the area. Its history with the fiendish temple nearby - twice assaulted, once twenty-two years ago by two armies, again thirteen years ago by groups of adventurers, and now mostly destroyed - means the locals tend toward some caution when dealing with outsiders, but one can hardly blame them. It is ruled by a pair of former adventurers, Rufus and Burne, who were granted control of the town and its surroundings by the viscount of Verbobonc for their services in dealing with the temple's inhabitants.

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

Cecily nods at Kholzug's riddle, then takes her tankard of tea. She sips at it slowly as Thalos goes on about the place. She recalled some facts about Hommlet, and certainly didn't like what she was remembering. It would be tiresome to deal with merchants and farmers all day. After all, the most they could call upon adventurers for would be bandits, giant spiders, or other mundane threats that were better dealt with by the town militia--or the Baron's armies.

The wizard parrots what she knows to the others, and adds a bit more. "It seems like there aren't going to be a lot of opportunities there. Between the adventurer leaders, and its place as a trading center and important farmland, we might not find a job that isn't just menial labor. After we deliver the stuff it might be best if we head elsewhere."

[Anderkent]

Farin

The cleric finishes his drink and stands up, gathering his equipment.
"Very well, seems we are in agreement. I shall take my leave now to replenish supplies. Be well."

Unless anyone stops him, Farin exits the inn. He leaves the heavy equipment in the bedroom, taking only the chain under his cloak and his long sword. He's looking to purchase minor supplies - particularly linen strands for bow strings (though he will buy pre-made strings if he cannot find good linen), a new bow arm guard, perhaps replacing any worn-out clothing. No matter how successful he is, he'll come back to the inn before too long - two, three hours at most.

[Miraqariftsky]

The halforc shrugs and says, "Eh? A job's a job, coin's coin, 'elp's 'elp"

Kholzug slurps off the rest of the meal and leans back, stretching and yawning. Picking some stray morsels from his wiry beard with a fork's tines, he then shoulders his trusty axe and makes towards the rented room upstairs, but stops a few steps in. He says over his shoulder at Cecily, "Lessons tonight, or ye need yer sleep?"

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

The wizard just sighs when Kholzug mentions that a job is a job. "You know I'm not one for menial labor, Sir. At best I'll just end up sleeping in the inn all day. If I do that I'll get fat." When Kholzug asks about their reading lessons, Cecily nods happily. "Sure, we can work on your lessons."

Cecily doesn't have anything else to do, so she'll head to her room and try to teach Kholzug. Lunch certainly doesn't want to go to bed yet, so he heads out with Farin to go out into the city.

[Sallera]

You pass a pleasant night at the Basil Vine, the upstairs rooms being at least somewhat removed from the new mess below, and come the morning find the cart waiting at the monastery as promised, loaded with neatly stacked crates. Thalos bids you farewell with a few last directions, and you are soon underway. The air is still today, dry and warm, and the yellowing grassland south of the city spreads to the south as far as the eye can see. As the day drags on and the miles slowly roll by, it seems that a night on the plains will not be so unpleasant; the weather, at least, is agreeable, and this close to the city, there is a sense of peace about the area.

Indeed, it is not until your second day on the road that you encounter anything out of the ordinary. Perhaps it is because he is nearer the ground than the two riders, or perhaps it is simply his contemplative nature at work, but Tironius is the only one to notice an odd trace by the side of the road. There is the faint mark of a cart turning off into the pathless long grass, yet no sign of a campsite nearby, nor any immediate evidence of the vehicle returning.

[TheFallenOne]

Tironius knelt down, rolling a stray blade of grass between two of his fingers. "An unexpected crossroad... A cart leaving the road for no apparent reason. And few possibilities there are for making someone take through the unbeaten, overgrown grass instead of the usual path. I see no camp, and if the cart entered the road again it wasn't close to here." He stands up again with a fluid motion. "We should investigate."

can I tell in which direction the cart was travelling before leaving the road?

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

The group's spell-slinging friend just rests on top of the supply cart. Even after two years she'd never gotten the hang of riding, and horses still didn't agree with everything she wanted to do. And so Cecily opted out of riding, with the excuse that someone needed to guide the cart. Of course, she'd never openly admit that her horse scared her. Lunch remains near his master throughout the trip. The small black-and-white ferret alternated between riding on Cecily's shoulder, sleeping on top of one of the crates, and trying to open the crates looking for something to eat. Naturally Cecily did nothing to corral Lunch into obeying. She was notorious for doting on the little thing, and letting him be a tiny furry rebel was just another outlet for her love.

On the first night out of the city Cecily sleeps on top of the cart. Partially to avoid sleeping on the ground, and partially so that she would have the high ground in the event of an attack. Regardless, the fact that nothing happens the first night makes her preparations pointless. Naturally, if Kholzug asks then she happily continues their lessons concerning the barbarian's literacy.

---

When Tironius stops the group to investigate Cecily stops the cart and hops down. She investigates the nearby area, and regardless of what she finds she looks to Tironius and nods. "I agree. Lead the way."

Cecily attempts to Search for anything close to the tracks. [roll0].

She'll throw on Mage Armor before we continue on, bringing her AC up to 16.

[Anderkent]

Farin

Farin has been walking beside the cart, and he takes this opportunity to get some food out of his backpack.

"I do not fancy leaving the cart here, nor pulling it off the road. There's no signs of battle that I can see - either the detour was voluntary, or the cart carer was overwhelmed immediately. In any case, doesn't seem like we need to rush in - how about we finish the delivery, and come back here without the cart tomorrow?"

Once done eating, he packs his backpack again and puts it back on the cart.

"It might be worth scouting around a bit. This seems much too subtle for an ambush, but we may as well be careful."


Farin looks around trying to spot traces of battle or anything suspicious:
Search [roll0] Spot [roll1]

[Miraqariftsky]

The halforc snorts at Cecily's sigh and says "Ah, aye, I know, I know... The only drudges who like drudgery are those who was born into the dreggserry, or bluebloods lookin' ta get away from it all an' wantin' somethink simpler, eh?"

"Sorreh." Kholzug says with a frowning shrug. "Meant that we've got the what and the where and how. Be wantin' ta get on and get done 'smuch as ye do, hrmm."

He falls into step behind her, but despite his mask of joviality, he still eyes every shadow with suspicion and tenses momentarily at every passerby's twitch.

When they get there, though his slayer's hands far dwarf the books, parchments, quills and pencils that they use, he listens and follows as closely as he could. He knows that sinew, steel and spirit do not solve all problems and indeed, that the written word can open more doors than a well-placed ironshod kick.

Eventually, when she closes the session, he gives her his thanks and ambles off into the night. It is a but a few steps into the other room where he checks on his already packed rucksack, making sure everything is in order. For a while, he contemplates hunting out a cheap enough whore, but ruefully recalls that he no longer has any coin to his name and knows that the cheaper the pay, the sicker the lay.

If his hunt for a willing wench is unsuccessful ere the midnight bell, he returns to the room and sleeps it off.

He awakes with a startled snarl and nightmare-ridden panting sometime before dawn and talks with the stablehand as best he could, to pay for the horses' stabling with labour instead of coin. By the time the rest of the inn is abustle with the morning rush, Kholzug steams with sweat, his hair plastered to his face after a dunk in the horse trough. The stable he'd left clean as clean could make, with a good amount of firewood chopped and stacked at the side.

The party's horses, a white mare and a dappled one named Lightning and Thunder, he groomed, fed, watered and harnessed before washing off and heading in for breakfast.


I hope that wasn’t too much, chief? Feel free to reprimand and I’ll readily revise.


~~~

When they get on their ride and on the road, Kholzug alternates order positions between riding up in the vanguard and hanging back as rearguard--- the two most dangerous positons--- always keeping his eyes and ears peeled for anything hostile or out of the ordinary.

Though a groundpounder at heart, he recognizes the value of traveling mounted--- greater speed, greater height, greater power. Knowing Farin likely has the archery angle covered, he has his bow stowed and rides with shield and lance at the ready.

On the first night out, as is his wont, he prepares the meal for the group. The base is a batch of wayfarer’s bread and hard cheese with strips of dried meat which he’s moistened with some birds’ eggs he’d collected during their ride and heated up on his trusty pan. Cooking up for people other than himself is a certain pleasure he’d discovered only recently but something he enjoys immensely.

The open road being not as safe a place as an inn might be, Kholzug declines on the nightly tradition between him and the young mage, knowing she’d need her wits and her spells about her if there’s danger about. However the other two men might decide upon the division of the night watch, Kholzug takes the graveyard watch for himself. Having spent the earlier part of his youth in dark pits where the most common sources of light are an overseer’s lantern, a flash of a blade or the sickly glowing fungi known as Gut-Glow, the scarred warrior treasures the beauty of the seeing, feeling, smelling the dawn.

~~~

When they come upon the tracks, Kholzug rides up from the rear and thumps Tironious’ shoulder as he dismounts, saying, “Good eye, man”

Getting down into the dirt and in amongst the grass, the halforc hunter tries to sniff out any scent of blood or oil or liquor or fear-filth or death-filth. He tries as well to look for any ruts in the ground or bits of torn clothing amongst the tall grass.

Not quite turning from his crouch, he says to the others, “Cez, Far… both o’ youse got points there. We can’t leave this ‘ere carts and horses and cargo and crap. Some buggers might get up from behind us and gank the stuff while we’re off chasin’ ghosts. Thing there is--- whoever ‘twas, mightha been ambushed. Fields o’ tall grass be great um-boss-skid points, like. But, we do got ta get this stuff delivered first. Ain’t nuthin’ sayin’ “ACK! ELP ME! STRUGGLE HERE!” but call me a drow if that stuff don’t look suspicious”


Hrhmm. I’m not quite ready to risk catastrophic failure on a bad roll here. Taking 10, or if possible taking 20.

Immediate perception: Spot/Listen: +5
Tracking/Survival: +6

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

Cecily looks to Farin, then back to Kholzug as she speaks. "What if there are people who are hurt? Or worse, what if there are captives? Is the coin from these crates worth more than any lives lost because we couldn't be bothered to search?" The small girl places her fists on her hips as she looks at the two warriors with obvious displeasure. She wasn't one to walk away when the right thing could be done, and there was no reason for her to believe that the cart-driver was dead.

Cecily looks around the area once more, then gives her thoughts on the matter. "It would be easy for a group of ambushers to box in a single cart on the road by blocking his passage forward and back, then it'd be trivial to force a surrender by bowpoint. Given that there's no body or bones nearby, I believe that whomever rides that cart was taken captive. And I want to save him."

Lunch has finally been roused from his slumber on top of the cart, and scampers down from the relatively huge structure to Cecily's side. He sniffs around her, then darts up her pants leg and winds up on her shoulder. The bespectacled wizard reaches over and pets the little guy's head. "See, Lunch agrees."

[Sallera]

The cart's trail is far from clear, but it does seem to have been heading south before turning off the road, and upon a closer look, it seems Kholzug could likely follow it a ways if desired. Farin spots a small rise some distance away in the general direction of the trail, almost invisible against the backdrop of waving grass, behind which something or someone could conceivably have been concealed.

[TheFallenOne]

"A few minutes can be spared, neither our cargo nor our destination is fleeing before us. We can keep our archer on the top of the cart; the landscape is flat, he will have a good view of anyone approaching and an angle on what we encounter when following the trail." Tironius slightly adjusts the grip on his staff cut from the heartwood of a willow, both walking stick and deadly weapon. "I might also take a look on my own. I will not be seen."

[Anderkent]

Farin

"That is likely the best course of action. There is something in the fields in that direction, " - Farin points at the obscured shape - " but I cannot discern its character. Be careful."

Turning to Cecily, the elf explains himself.

"I understand your feelings, but there is hardly evidence of an ambush here. Most likely a travelling merchant meeting with someone they don't want to be associated with - a lover, perhaps, or a poacher. Even if this was a bandit attack, the cart owner is either already dead, or held captive for ransom - a day less or more will not risk his life."

Farin pauses for a moment, considering what he noticed in the grass.

"Though what Tironius might find in the grass I can't guess. It might be the cart, emptied of goods, but what's the point of hiding it? Or pulling it off the road, in the first place. May be it is a hideout, but one that close to the road would be quickly found by any patrol. I am growing more suspicious now."

"Perhaps we should hide the cart in the grass, for now. Should Tironious require our help, we will be ready, and if he comes back with nothing, it takes not that long to pull the cart back onto the road."

In the meantime, Farin strings his bow, lays out additional quivers on the cart, and puts full armor on. Should anyone hostile appear, he will be ready.

[Sallera]

Kholzug leads Tironius and Cecily along the cart's trail, which appears to turn sharply just before the rise to go around it. Just before the turn, however, a slight breeze stirs the dry air, and the faint smell of rot pervades your nostrils. Tironius creeps up the rise, hidden amidst rock and scrub, and through the concealing grass spots at last your quarry.

Tironius:The scene that unfolds before you has more than a trace of the bizarre. A depression in the earth sits just past the rise, a perfect location for concealment, and within it sits a light horse-cart, smaller than the one you are accompanying. Two horses, mostly eaten, lie dead beside it, though it was pulled only by one, which fell still in the traces; a human corpse in similar state lies a short distance away. Three crates, broken open and spilling bottles all around, still sit in the cart, although it seems it could have held many more. And the diners at this grisly feast have not yet departed, nor do they appear eager to.

Two large feathered creatures bide within the hollow, one apparently asleep, the other holding a bottle awkwardly between its paws and splashing the liquid into its beak with a great lack of grace. Owlbears, as you recall, fierce creatures that are equal parts predator, scavenger, and anger. Under normal circumstances, at least; these ones appear to have been at least temporarily mellowed by what you suspect to be the consumption of a great deal of alcohol, judging by the bottles scattered around, some smashed and some merely emptied.

[TheFallenOne]

Tironius gently glides through the high grass, the soft rustle caused by his movement not distinguishible from the one caused by the wind. When he reaches the rise in the ground his shape is briefly enveloped by flickering shadows and then disappears from view completely. Invisible to the normal eye, he studies the sight before him for a moment before returning to the others, making a small beckoning motion to Farin on their own cart, meeting out of earshot of the keeneared creatures.

"The cart is there, along with the corpses of their driver, horses and the slayers still alive. Two owlbears, one asleep, the other perusing the wine. If I go ahead I think I can take out the former, then we can take care of the other together."

With Invisible Fist and Cloak of Deception I can stay invisible for two turns. One to move up, the other to coup de grace the sleeping one. Has a decent chance of working and would make the resulting fight much easier.

[Anderkent]

Farin

Seeing Tironius' signal, Farin joins the group.

"Sound strategy. How far ahead do you want to be? I can cover you from any distance, but it would be difficult for me to sneak too close upon them. Perhaps if I were to leave my armor here we can get to the rise without drawing attention. It will take a couple minutes though.

Or we can wait on this side of the hill, and you can lure them to us. That will give me a couple free shots until they get to us, and you should outrun them without any problems."

[TheFallenOne]

"When it comes to strategy, I read this once, and I consider it the truth: it is called The Rule of Three. 'Any plan which requires more than three different things to happen will never work in real life.
And since only a fool would attempt a plot that was as complicated as possible, the real limit is two.'
Let us not risk wasting this opportunity by letting you move too close. And let us not assume everything will work as planned. I might fail, or even on success the second owlbear might pin me down. It is best you move in to support me once I start the fight instead of laying an ambush elsewhere."

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

When Farin attempts to reason away his desire to leave, Cecily simply shakes her head. "That sounds like nothing more than an excuse to avoid doing what is right, even if it is inconvenient. You may do as you wish, but I will do what I can to help."

Cecily remains firm on this point, but the issue is settled when Tironus returns and explains what happened. Cecily seems a bit confused when he talks about owlbears, but doesn't mention anything yet.

Regardless, when Tironus brings up his strategy then she nods. She intones some arcane words of power, then touches the monk. "This will grant you some knowledge about fighting. Not that you need it, sir, but it may come in handy."

Cecily finally brings up the owlbears, and addresses her confusion from before. "Why would the owlbears drag the cart off the road? They're not much more intelligent than either owls or bears, so where would they get the idea to hide the evidence?"

Cecily takes 10 on Knowledge(Arcana) concerning Owlbears. She gets a 21. Are Owlbears smart enough to drag a cart off the road?

[Miraqariftsky]

Kholzug the Cleaver

While the others deliberate, Kholzug creeps back down and leads the two heavyweight horses back to the cart, under, presumably, under the two casters' watch. There, he whispers harshly at them, "Arright, gels, it be uncertain ground there. Wouldn't want me ta snuff either o' ye if y'all break a leg onna usseen gully or hole, eh? Thunder, Lightning. Stay".

Lance and shield stowed, greataxe out and low, the halforc makes his way back to the others, crouching his bulk into the cover of the rise and the undergrowth. He nods and grates, "Miss, wi' respeck, wot me an' knifears 'ere meant was while we're seein' to them beasties, someone could gank us from behind. Ye never know. We don't not want to do woss right, but always pays to watch our backs."

The soot-coated chainmail neck-guard clinks ever so slightly as Kholzug gives a small shake of his head. "Nay. Why would leopards drag their kills up trees, hmm? Mebbe once we clear 'em, we might find some better clues there. As it is, holy boy's right... but I still agrees with youse that something just ain't right about here. But it's wot we got. I suggess 'e goes in first, deads the one, holds the other's attention while I charge in and finish 'em. You guys support... an' more importently, watch our backs."

The Cleaver crackles his knuckles around the axe-haft while beginning to creep through the undergrowth, angling in for a flanking position from which he could easily support Tironious once the latter engages and says, "If we got no problem, the show's yours, Tironious. Ghost 'em."

[TheFallenOne]

Step of the Wind if I need to go through difficult terrain, Island of Blades otherwise

Tironius again stalks through the high grass, approaching the looted cart from the side opposite the non-sleeping owlbear. Once he got close, he blends into the shadows, becoming invisible to the naked eye. With light steps, he creeps up to the sleeping figure and smashes his staff into the exposed throat of the owlbear, becoming visible some moments later.

go within 40 feet of the sleeping one. Hide 18. Out of the other one's LoS if possible
Invisible Fist, double move at half speed. MS 17
Cloak of Deception. 5 foot step, CDG with Power Attack [roll0] and 1 Cold if still helpless, Fort save or die

[Sallera]

Tironius approaches unseen through the grass, the slight flicker of his presence as he fades once more from sight failing to filter through the drunken owlbear's hazy perception. Something seems to alert it, however, and it stands up and peers around, unfortunately entirely failing to notice the hidden monk until a strangled squawk, quickly cut short, heralds the merciless crushing of its partner's windpipe.

Coup de grace... success!
Initiative:
Tironius
Cecily
Owlbear
Kholzug
Farin

Tironius and Cecily may act. The owlbear is roughly twenty feet from Tironius, around the cart. The terrain is not rough enough to count as difficult. The whole scene is about seventy feet from the rest of you, twenty to the top of the rise and fifty down into the hollow.

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

The spellslinger waits for Kholzug to move in first, then follows behind him.

Cecily holds her action until after Kholzug moves, then moves 30ft up while readying an action to Acidic Splatter anything that comes within 10ft.

[TheFallenOne]

The first enemy disposed of, Tironius rounds the cart to stand between the remaining owlbear and his companions behind the rise in the ground, the uneven footing not inhibiting his movements. "It is done, come!" he calls out, readying himself for the assault of the beast.

Move, then ready action: Mighty Throw if owlbear is in melee range
[roll0] [roll1]

toss it 5 feet back the way it came on success.

[Sallera]

Tironius's call snaps the owlbear to full attention, and its wide eyes come into focus as it stares him down. Despite a somewhat delayed reaction, it appears to have no trouble classifying him as a threat, and rumbles forward with a screech, brushing aside Tironius's throw with its sheer feathered bulk and snatching at the monk with a wide paw.

Owlbear charges. Trip attempt fails.
Claw: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Improved Grab: [roll2]

Kholzug, Farin, and Tironius can act; assuming Cecily takes the action posted above.

[Anderkent]

Farin

Hearing Tir's signal, Farin moves on top of the hill and takes aim. His bow is silent as the arrow flies towards the beast.


Move to top of the rise (20ft), shoot the owlbear.
[roll0] (+8 base, -4 target in melee)
[roll1]

[TheFallenOne]

When the owlbear makes its eager swipe the monk sidesteps and strikes into the feathered arm in the direction of the swing, picking up the owlbear's momentum and sending him off-balance.

Countercharge
[roll0] +4 smaller size

If this fails I am grappled, can't beat a 25. On success the attack is negated and I let the owlbear pass 10 feet in the direction of the others.

[Miraqariftsky]

Kholzug the Cleaver

Seeing the beast getting to grips with his fight-wise friend, Kholzug charges through the tall grass, angling in for the feathered beast's back. He doesn't roar to better improve his chances of getting at it unawares and the only sounds he makes as he rushes in are the rustling of foliage against fur cloak and corded limbs, the muffled thump of ironshod boots through soft loam and the stifled clink of mail.

On his last step before impact, he slams his lead foot down hard and on the next step, throws his momentum into a curt hack at the thing's heavy torso, aiming right at its spine.


Let's see now...
Charging, Flanking, partial Power Attack (-2 / +4) , not Raging yet, using an enchanted weapon.
+2 +2 +2 +4 +1
[roll0]
[roll1]

HP 32/32 AC 15/17

[TheFallenOne]

Having bypassed the straightforward assault, Tironius ends up in the back of the owlbear and slams his staff into the hollow of its right knee, following up with an elbow strike into the lower spine.

5 foot step, Flurry

[roll0] [roll1] +1 Cold
[roll2] [roll3]

Invisible Fist if attacked

[Sallera]

The owlbear emits a high-pitched, warbling keen as Kholzug's axe slams into its side, followed shortly by Tironius's elbow in its back. Farin's arrow lodges in its coat, barely drawing blood, and its thick feathers suffice to muffle the staff blow, but it is clearly still in pain, and it lashes out at Kholzug with every sharp appendage it possesses, a flurry of feathers and fur.

Claw 1: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Improved Grab: [roll2]

Claw 2: [roll3]
Damage: [roll4]
Improved Grab: [roll5]

Bite: [roll6]
Damage: [roll7]
Improved Grab: [roll8]

If any of the grapples succeed, disregard the following attacks. Party's turn.

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

Without any further recourse, the wizard simply moves forward again. Luckily, the creature was now in range. Unluckily, it was now grappling Kholzug and too many people were close by for a good shot. Even so, Cecily readies herself to blast the creature with acid the moment it pulls away from her companions.

Cecily moves 30ft forward again, and it should now be within range of her Acidic Splatter. She'll ready an action to blast it with Acidic Splatter when it's no longer grappling Kholzug.

[TheFallenOne]

Pausing a moment to concentrate, Tironius focuses on the conflicting natures deep within himself and with an effort of will brings it forth into the light. It manifests as a flaming aura enveloping his attacks, itself an expression of antithetic principles: source of light, source of shadow, bringer of warmth, bringer of destruction. The owlbear occupied with Kholzug, he strikes with staff and leg to shake the large monster off of him.

[roll0] [roll1] +1 Cold [roll2]
[roll3] [roll4] [roll5]

[Miraqariftsky]

The great beast turns with a swiftness that surprises even the savage fighter and clinging onto his axe-haft is all he could do to prevent it from crushing him under its massive bulk. Though he thrashes against its grip, the beast holds him fast. Kholzug roars as well as his opponent as they roll in the grass in a deathlock. He tries going for one of his smaller blades, but the killing embrace gives him no room and so he sticks to digging his spiked greaves into the thing's guts and groin.


Str +6 BAB +4 Flank +2 -4 Grapple -1/+1 PA
[roll0]
[roll1]

Finally!

[Anderkent]

Farin

Seeing Khozgul tangled with the beast, Farin puts an already drawn arrow away, running towards other combatants.



Run 60ft towards Khozgul and the beast.

[Sallera]

The beast practically ignores Tironius's staff laying into its back, despite the clear evidence of damage, and Kholzug's spike finding softer flesh only seems to enrage it. Squeezing tighter, the owlbear rakes its claws across the half-orc's armoured back, seeking purchase in flesh.

Opposed grapple: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[Miraqariftsky]

The first claw strike had ripped open a four-fingered gash over Kholzug's right shoulder. The halforc's spiked knees dig furiously into its groin and guts, blood and feathers spilling into the sward, his ears ringing with the beast's shrill shrieking as it rakes across his armoured back. Bits of treated bearskin rip away but he fights through the bruising and the battering.

Suddenly, he smells spellcraft in the air and, oddly enough, pork fat. Feeling his cloak and armour grow slick with grease, he digs into the lower body wounds he'd already inflicted earlier...

...and then kicks off, sending himself slipping through the beast's grasp, cracking his axe-haft across its clacking beak as a parting blow. He leaps to his feet just as the beast shakes its head to dispel its momentary dizziness. Kholzug meets the eyes of Tironius on the other side of the beast and gives a nod.

The halforc lunges in with his axe high for a neck-level blow, yelling at the owlbear, "YE OWE ME A NEW CLOAK, YE POOR BUGGER!"


HP 18/32 AC 15/27

Standard attack, -3/+6 PA
[roll0]
[roll1]

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

Seeing Kholzug get hurt once more, Cecily reacts immediately to ensorcel the half-orc's armor. His metal plating is quickly coated in magical grease, and the young wizard hopes it helps him escape his current predicament.

[Anderkent]

Farin

Seeing Khozgul writhe free of the beast, the elf stops and selects two arrows from his quiver. His bow is drawn twice in quick succession, both arrows aimed at the owlbear.


5 ft step away from the target.
Rapid shot, current distance ~15ft from the owlbeast.

[roll0] + 8 -2 (rapid shot) +1 (point blank shot) = 9
[roll1] + 3 + 1 (PBS) = 10

[roll2] + 8 -2 (rapid shot) +1 (point blank shot) = 25
[roll3] + 3 + 1 (PBS) = 12

[TheFallenOne]

With a flicker of shadows Tironius disappears from view, and as soon as Kholzug disengages from the owlbear a high kick in the rips and staff strike in the back of the head hits it.

[roll0] [roll1] +1 Cold
[roll2] [roll3]
Flanking and Invisible

[Sallera]

Farin launches one arrow into the ground as the owlbear weaves drunkenly back from Kholzug's escape, but the second sinks deep between its ribs, and Tironius's kick only aggravates the wound, the crack of overstressed bone accompanying the snap of the arrow shaft. The owlbear turns, its eyes deep pools of fury, but despite its unwavering will, the pain is finally filtering through its muted senses; it staggers forward a few steps, reaches out a claw in one last attempt at violence, and collapses to the ground.

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

The wizard steps forward, and gives the downed owlbear a final blast of acid aimed at its throat. Absolutely certain that it'll never hurt anyone ever again, Cecily starts searching the ruins of the cart for anything. "Like I said, I don't think these owlbears were smart enough to hide the cart. Take the bodies? Yes. But the cart? When they're easily strong enough to rip the horses out of the harnesses? No, I think they're scavengers of opportunity."

Cecily takes 10 on her Search check for a 14, or aids another anyone with a better modifier.

[Miraqariftsky]

Kholzug tenses, ready to receive a charge, but relaxes a fraction when the beast collapses. He strolls over and with a curt chop, puts it out of its misery witholds his axe when Cecily beats him to it, grumbling under his breath about the damaged pelt.

His still-slick chest heaving with exertion and shining with the ensorceled grease, he grates out at the young wizard, the battle-wise brother and the dependable elf, "Cez. Thanks fer the 'elp, there. You too, Holy Ghost. Good shooting, knifears."

After taking a quick swig from his waterskin, then doing what he could to clean and bind his wounds, he then gets back down into the dirt. Though it is highly unlikely to bear much fruit, Kholzug attempts a systematic search around and through the downed cart, looking for any clues or tracks.

Kholzug also takes the time to gather together what pieces of the driver remains. He takes anything that could still be of use before digging a shallow pit. He then turns to the divine adepts in their party as he stands ready to shovel the remains into the simple wayfarer's grave.


Track/Survival [roll0] plus X from Cecily's Aid. Or Take 10, if that's safer.
Search? Eh, let's take the chance. [roll1]

~FISTPUMP!~ YEeeeeaaahhhhhsssszzzzzz! The resident tracker Is! Frakken! Competent! Wooooooohhooooooo! COMPETENT!

[TheFallenOne]

"If it wasn't the owlbears, who then would murder the man, hide the evidence and leave the merchandise? Unless there's something else they wanted but the wine." Tironius eyes Kholzug as he begins digging in the ground. "It would be better to take the body with us. His family would want to burry him themselves instead of knowing him in an anonymous grave."

[Sallera]

The dead man's remains would perhaps still be recognizable by those familiar with him, but only just; much of the more tender flesh has been eaten. A careful search of his remaining belongings yields little of value; a pipe, some carefully wrapped tobacco, flint and steel, what was probably a few days' rations before the owlbears got into it, a small pot, a little tea, and two gold pieces hidden in his boot. The cart had two crates of wine in it, although both have been broken open, and only a single bottle remains intact and unopened. It is quite noticeable, however, that those two crates alone would not have come close to filling the cart.

Of the two horses, which have also been mostly eaten, one was clearly pulling the cart, having died still in the traces. The other lies a short distance away, and is saddled and bridled for riding. The saddlebags were torn open, and most of the feed for rider and mount has been scattered or consumed, but turning the corpse over reveals a carry-net on the other side, containing a third, mostly intact crate of wine.

Kholzug's search of the ground nearby reveals traces of the trail of a group of several horses leaving the area in haste; the exact number is difficult to determine, but certainly at least three.

[Anderkent]

Farin

The cleric inspects the area, trying to reconstruct the scene. "A kidnapping attacked by owlbears, I suppose. The bandits lost a horse, but managed to take the rider with themselves - they didn't try to save the driver though, or he was dead already. Seems like they took something with themselves, too - or the merchant was travelling half-full.

We should follow, before the trail grows cold, but let us hide our merchandise first. It shouldn't take too long - we can move the card into the grass, unharness the animal, and tie it down somewhere with a bit of food and water.

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

The young lady nods at Farin. "I have an idea. I'll act on it while you guys handle the cart. It should tell us how many people were using this cart, and thus whether they had a captive or not." With that said, Cecily sets Lunch on the ground and leaves him to his own devices. The little ferret runs around the cart, the horse tracks, and all over the place hunting down the scents of whomever had once owned the cart. Once he's thoroughly investigated the area Cecily picks him back up. "Okay Lunch, I need you to scratch in the dirt how many people you smelled. People." Cecily points to herself, then Kholzug, then Farin, and finally to Tiron. "People."

Lunch will use his Scent ability to detect the scents of any people around the cart, hopefully disregarding the non-people. He'll pass this information along to Cecily and the others by scratching marks in the dirt equal to the number of people on the cart. That number, minus the number of horses, will tell us whether there were any captives or not.

[Sallera]

Lunch examines the area around the corpses and the cart with some distaste - the smell of slowly rotting meat, overlaid with a veneer of strong alcohol and dirty feathers, is far from pleasant even for human senses - but after clambering over the driver's seat and the cart's remaining cargo, seems satisfied and returns to Cecily's side, pointing a claw at the cart and scratching a single strong line in the dirt.

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

The wizard nods. "Well alright then. He smelled one person, which would be the driver." Cecily points to the dead saddlehorse nearby. "Which means whoever was on that horse never came near the cart, and survived. The owlbears would have killed him too if they were the reason behind the driver's death. That means at least one person is out there and alive, as well as the possibility that the owlbears were scavengers. It also means that there were no captives kept on the cart."

[TheFallenOne]

"The tracks Kholzug found look convincing; at least three horses departed from here, that means three riders, or perhaps two riders and a saddlehorse. Judging from the lack of cargo they looted the merchandise but were interrupted by the owlbears, as Farin concluded. This happened days ago and the bandits didn't linger long near the cart, so it is only sensible your companion can't smell the traces of them, but of the merchant who uses this cart daily", Tironius points out. "It also means chasing after them is a futile effort. They have multiple days on us and were mounted. We should take both carts and bring them to their destination. We will accomplish nothing but lose our cart and ox too if we give chase to the perpetrators."

[Anderkent]

Farin

"They have to stop somewhere, but it's true it might not be anywhere close. You're right, if there was only one driver then there is little point in pursuit. We should move on."

[Sallera]

Extracting the somewhat battered cart from the remains of its previous carer and attaching it to a rather uncomfortable Thunder, you leave the scene of the battle behind and continue on your way. Despite the small delay, evening brings you to Hommlet as promised, the sun just touching the horizon as the town rises before you.

A large keep stands on a hill overlooking the pleasant, pastoral community, its stones still quite new and its walls clearly never assailed. Although the town comprises hundreds of buildings, homes and places of business alike, the entire area is verdant even from afar, trees and shrubbery growing throughout. Brother Thalos's simple directions lead your steps to the Inn of the Welcome Wench, a curiously-named but clearly quite fine establishment consisting of a sprawling two-story building with large stables and a well-kept yard.

A brown-haired woman in a white apron, perhaps in her late thirties, emerges from the main building as the carts pull into the yard. "Welcome, welcome; I'd heard our cart was on its way back, and it's a pleasure to meet the ones who brought it. I'm Vesta Gundigoot; I take care of the inn's day-to-day business for my father. Just drive the cart over by the wall, there; we'll take care of unloading it. How was your journey?"

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

The young wizard once again rides the cart with their material in it. Once the group arrives in Hommlet, she dismounts the cart and takes Lunch onto her shoulder. She responds to Ms. Gundigoot quite plainly. "We found this second cart here, which belonged to some merchants. The driver was dead, and we brought his body here to identify his remains. Or, at least, give him a proper burial." Cecily motions toward the second cart as she speaks.

[Sallera]

"Oh, the poor soul." Moving to look inside the other cart, Vesta shudders at the state of the body, but nods sadly. "That is Mr. Gren, I do believe; no wonder he hasn't visited in a while. He never spoke of any family, but perhaps we could send a letter to the church in Verbobonc. Renne?" Vesta calls inside, and a moment later a young, pale-skinned girl of perhaps ten or eleven emerges, holding a small mostly-emptied glass of cider. Her dark hair is short and neatly cut, and she wears a forest-green dress of some heavy fabric.

"Thank you again for the potion, and I'm sorry to bother you when your father's away; I know you must be busy, but could you stop by the church on your way back and tell Calmer these travelers have found a dead man who needs caring after?"

"Of course, Miss Gundigoot." Renne nods solemnly, not appearing at all distressed by the news, and finishes the last of her drink before handing the glass to Vesta. "Thank you for the cider." Her gaze passes over the rest of you, but she only dips her head slightly in acknowledgement before turning to leave.

"Calmer will be along shortly, I'm sure, but you look like you've had a hard day. I'll look into getting you your pay right away while Maridosen unloads that wine. If there's anything you need in town, I can give you directions, or if you're looking to stay the night, we have rooms free, or bunks in the common room if you'd prefer something less costly. And I may be biased, but I can still assure you the food here is some of the best in town."

[TheFallenOne]

"A moment of respite might be in order at your place", Tironius says. There's the slightest moment of a pause when he refrains from saying the name of the inn out loud. It didn't do the inn credit, but not always did the title aptly describe the worth of something, and the place looked fine enough from the outside. "But know this man was murdered, and we found the trail of the perpetrators. If there is a place we can rent two more horses it would help in our endeavor to bring them to justice."

[Anderkent]

Farin

The elf takes all of his equipment off the wine cart and puts it on the ground nearby. He unbuckles his armor and starts removing heavier parts while listening to the conversation.
"Farin l'Ohtren, Miss. Pleasure to meet you, circumstances notwithstanding. If you direct us to a local law officer, we could coordinate with them. As to the rooms, we'll take two adjacent ones, if you have them."

He turns to the party. "Someone who knows the area would be very useful for locating the criminals, and I hope the local officer can help. But in the meantime, no harm in getting settled. We'll spend some time around here if we're to investigate this crime."

Addressing Vesta again, Farin asks: "I assume Mr. Gren was the merchant you originally expected, and Mr. Calmer would be a local priest?"

[Sallera]

"Of course, come on inside, then." Vesta leads you into the inn's dining room, a clean and quiet area that is well-appointed, if a little old. A long-haired blond elf to one side is playing a rather mediocre tune on a recorder that looks more expensive than he deserves, and a few other people are seated around the room having an early dinner, or at least a drink - a short, brown-haired man in blackened leathers, a pair of women in farmer's clothes of deceptively fine weave, and a freckled halfling with long red hair. "Maridosen, the firewine's here; I'll handle the bar, so take it to the cellar." The pale, black-haired half-elven woman behind the bar gives a short sigh, but moves to leave. "Aye, Vesta."

Vesta unlocks a box behind the bar and counts coins into four pouches, handing them over to each of you. "There you are, then, less the cost of the rooms. If you'd like a key to lock them, it's an extra crown per room. Dinner tonight is poached salmon, spiced sausages, steak and kidney pie, or roast goose; seven silvers for the goose, five for one of the others." Innkeeping taken care of, Vesta returns to your other questions.

"Mr. Gren was a merchant, yes; he visited here from time to time. Calmer is Canoness Y'dey's assistant at the Church of St. Cuthbert; he's a very helpful fellow. Elmo would be the one to talk to about finding the ones who did this; he's the captain of the militia. I'm not sure where he is at the moment, although you could try asking about town, but he comes here fairly often in the evenings, so you might wait a bit and see. Now, as to renting horses, I'm not sure about that. Rudoulf runs the stables down at the southwest edge of town, but he only buys and sells. You might be able to convince Naresh to rent you a couple of his mules - he's down the road to the east, just past the bridge at the place with the barns - but while I don't mean to be rude, you shouldn't all go together. He's not very fond of elves, or anyone who isn't human, really."

Twenty-three gold and five silver for each of you.

[Miraqariftsky]

Kholzug the Cleaver

Arriving at Hommlet's rather sedate inn, Kholzug nevertheless is openly aghast as Farin takes off most of his armour. Knowing his fellow warrior to be still a decent fighter regardless, he gives him that as he tends to the horses as well as helps with unloading the cargo.

"Ain't no bother, madam" he says as he catches the tail end of the conversation. The burly halforc snorts partly in derision and partly in resignation. He grunts at the others and says, "Arright, then. This 'ere Rudolf feller, ye reckon he be willin' ta take me good club as coll-atter-ull?" Turning to the others, he says, "Y'all be getting to this before dinner, after dinner, or on the morrow?"

"But!" he says, barking a cough and fishing out five silvers and three gold pieces. "I sees yer five sov'rens and raises ye three guilders and five. The fiver fer everyth'n wot ain't the not-so-lucky goose. One gold fer as much firewine or drakesblood or Bugman's Best if ye 'ave it, as can take me. One gold fer as much drink as me frends 'ere fancy. An' one fer free drinks fer everyone else, as long'st last, anyway"


I take it that coinage runs as copper crowns, silver sovereigns and gold guilders, yes? Unless I am mistaken?

Preparing 10 gold for temple donation. Remaining tenner goes to... savings, I suppose. Or bribe-money. Or alms. Or ale-and-whores if there be ale-and-whores to be had.

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

The young wizard ponies up enough for two meals as well as a key for her room. "A helping of sausage, and a helping of salmon, please. As well as one of those keys." She knew little of protective magic, but the mundane power of locks was not something to be dismissive of. It wasn't that Cecily didn't trust anyone in the inn, but more that she slept sounder knowing her door was locked. Regardless, she takes her key, but doesn't head up to her room quite yet. Instead, she turns to the assembled group and spells out her intentions.

"I intend to go this church and see about getting this man buried. And, naturally, see if they have anything in the way of reading material that they'd lend me." With that said, the young wizard turns back to the inn-owner. "Miss, there wouldn't happen to be any wizards in the village, would there? I would dearly love to meet with another member of the arcane arts if at all possible."

[TheFallenOne]

"I take the salmon, with watered down wine", Tironius says. He rarely gives much thought to food long as it is nutritious and healthy, and fish qualifies for that. "I commend your strive for more knowledge, Cecily, and I'd join you if I didn't see the need to be apace in finding these highwaymen. I will seek out this Naresh and then return here so we can convene with the captain of the militia if he turns up." He's not very fond of the mentioned racial intolerance; perhaps the man could still be educated at a future point. He knows there are degrees of ignorance, those who could still recognize the errors in their judgement if presented suitable evidence, and those who had their preconceptions so deeply ingrained all evidence to the contrary is disregarded. It is truly sad to see a mind so attached to their hate and fear they perceive the light of reason itself as hostile and disdainful.

[Anderkent]

Farin

"Then I'll start with the kidney pie and some ale, as soon as I move our luggage to the room. If you need me for anything I'll be around here, waiting for the captain."

The cleric takes his equipment and puts it away in the assigned room, then sits down in the common area. He'll spend the afternoon there unless someone in the party calls for help.

[Sallera]

"It's five silvers for one of the three, dear, but each meal comes with potatoes, spinach, bread and honey, so you won't go hungry. The fireamber's the best we stock, in truth, at three a glass; that's why we paid so much to ensure its safe delivery, but I'll get you a good Keoish brandy."

Turning to Cecily, Vesta smiles. "We do indeed; there are two in town aside from Burne himself. Head north over the bridge, and west at the second crossroads. Straight on is Spugnoir's shop; Potions and Elixirs, it's called. Renne's the only one there right now, though, and I suppose Haunor's watching the place; Spugnoir's away somewhere, it seems. If you turn left instead, you'll reach Zerosh Nubric's; he does some business in scrolls, but even I don't know him very well. He doesn't get out much."

Vesta pours you your drinks, then retreats into the kitchen, returning several minutes later with full plates for each of you. The food appears to be worth the price, lacking any of the unpleasant attributes usually associated with inn fare; whoever is doing the cooking knows their craft.

A tall, well-built man in simple clothing enters a short time later, the cross-and-rings of St. Cuthbert hanging from his neck. "Good evening, Vesta. Renne said our services were needed here..."

The innkeeper nods, gesturing to your table. "These travellers... found Mr. Gren on their way. He's in the cart out front. The young lady there wanted to accompany you, I believe."

"Well, I'm sure it can wait a few minutes, then. Such matters are not best handled in the middle of a meal." The priest approaches your table, offering a hand. "Pleased to meet you; a pity the circumstances aren't better. I'm Calmer, a servant of St. Cuthbert."

Penny/silver/crown is what I was thinking there, in fact, but if you want to use those that's fine. Chalk it up to regional dialects. :smalltongue:

We'll split the scenes after this dialogue, as it seems you each have your separate ways to go.

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

The wizard-woman doesn't eat much, and mostly feeds herself off the salmon, a few spoonfuls of potatoes, and spinach. The bread goes to her little ferret, and so do the sausages. She naturally turns away a second helping of spinach and potatoes, and offers that up to whomever would like to have it. If no one else takes it, then Lunch does his best to stuff it into his face. When the Cuthbert priests arrive Cecily hops to her feet right quick. Lunch is much less agile, and the little ferret rubs his belly in pain. The blue-haired and bespectacled wizard just picks the little guy up and plops him down into one of her many pockets. She turns back to the Cuthbert priests and nods. "Cecily Cielani at your service, sir. I'd like a look at your library if at all possible. As far as my meal, I'm quite done. Lunch is as well, I see, so I'm ready to leave whenever you are."

[Miraqariftsky]

Kholzug the Cleaver

The halforc is momentarily taken aback by madam Vesta's reeling off her kitchen's repertoire. Kholzug frowns, scratching at his broad jaw while obviously pondering.

"Alright, fine, scratch the lot" he says, while ponderously counting out into Vesta's palm out three guilders, five sovereigns... and another five gold coins. "Whatever gullet-blazer ye've got--- Keoish or whatnot; the meat pie with the works; annnnnnd covering everybody's choice of drinks. If the fiver covers more'n what we could put down, take it as free fer whoever else 'til it runs out"

While waiting, Kholzug kicks back his seat to a dangerously creaking cant, hissing appreciatively at the fortitude of the brew. When their meal finally arrives, the orcblooded wildsman looks at it with a bit of trepidation, as if looking at the expense served up piping hot... then after the first bite digs in heartily, wolfing the lot down. "WORRFFIT!" he barks at the kitchen in appreciation.

"May your cudgels never crack, brothers" When the Cutherberites come, however, Kholzug stands and bows in greeting. He nods at Cecily and says, "Aye. Well. Call me Kholzug. I'll carry the dead. Brother Calmer, if we may ask... Know ye where Captain Elmo might be? From your temple, where'd a body go to find a certain Mr Rudolf's stables?"


Splitting the party already?
Trap? Ambush? Stalkers? Poison? Lies? Treachery?
Something's telling me our paranoia should be pricking.

[TheFallenOne]

The monk eats his meal methodically, not really focusing on he taste as his mind is occupied with other things. He carefully sips his drink, making sure the wine is watered down enough not to cloud his senses.

"Light be with you, honored priest", he greets Calmer with a firm handshake. "I am Brother Tironius of Delleb's faithful. My condolences to the community and his acquaintances for the poor fate he incurred. I take it the deceased was of your church if you are called upon to handle the ministrations?"

[Sallera]

Calmer scratches the back of his neck, shrugging a little. "I'm not quite sure whom he followed, in truth; I don't believe he was a local. But while Ehlonna and Pelor have small followings in town, our church is the larger by far, so we tend to take care of those who haven't got anyone else. If you're ready, then we can go; I've brought some cloth to wrap him."

Kholzug/Cecily:"The church is down the road, across the bridge here," the priest explains as you walk. "If you're looking to visit Rudoulf, just head down the southwest road; he's right near the end of the road out of town. I'm not sure where Elmo is, though; surprisingly enough, being captain of the militia has not made him keep a regular schedule." Calmer smiles slightly. "He's certainly quick to show up when he's needed, although I cannot in good conscience advise that particular method of getting his attention."

"We do have a small library, Miss Cielani; I should be able to show you our collection once we've seen to Mr. Gren. Was there something in particular you were looking for more information on?"

Tironius:Once you finish your meal and go in search of Naresh, the teamster's residence is not difficult to locate; two barns abut the house, and the smell of animals is prevalent. An older boy of seventeen or so with short blond hair exits one of the barns carrying a rake; he touches two fingers to the wide brim of his hat and nods as he notices your attention. "Evening, friend. You looking to have some goods moved?"

Farin:A short time after the others have departed, the brown-haired man slides into a seat at your table, raising a mug of dark ale. "Cheers, mate. Your verdant friend's a generous one, eh? Good thing Xaod's not here, though, or his coin wouldn't last long. Still, man buys for the house, usually means a run of luck. You had any interesting experiences lately?"

Hey, you're the ones splitting the party.

I'm just enabling you.

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

The young lady shakes her head at Calmer's question. "Oh, no sir. I'm just looking for anything that I haven't read before. You know, a seeker of knowledge no matter how esoteric."

[Miraqariftsky]

((Should we be spoilering these things, chief? Just following your lead, sir.))

Kholzug the Cleaver

"Rrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiight then" he drawls, using a hunk of bread to mop up the greasy remains of his repast and washing it all down with the last swig of his heady brew. "That puts paid to the idea of gettin' the good marshal's attention by doing a bit of horsethievery, heh-heh-heh..."

Once they get going, Kholzug takes the cloth from the oh so friendly cleric and wraps Mr. Gren's remains therein. If it is possible to still use one of the carts, he does so, but if not, he's just fine with simply shouldering the dead man to his final resting place.

When Calmer mentions Elmo's unexpected absence, Kholzug quips, "Oh? Mebbe he's just running down some thieves or smugglers or cruising your fine township's gutters fer cutpurse cutthroat dregs whose hands he can display at the gates?"


Fair enough, chief. Heh-heh!
Feel free to whack me if player paranoia bleeds over into character paranoia... that is, if you're not actually dropping things the characters should be wary about, eh?

[TheFallenOne]

"I see. I don't want to delay the burial, but it would do well to ask the people here he used to trade with whether they know which faith he held. I'm sure he would have at least wanted the proper name of his god invoked when he is laid to rest."

Tironius
Tironius gives the yound man a nod, arms crossed inside the sleeves of his black robe. Greetings, friend. I am Brother Tironius, from the monastery built in the name of the holy Othmar. I am looking to have people moved, not goods. We have currently two horses between four of us, and we require two more mounts for some time. I was hoping we could rent two of your mules for an adequate fee."

[Sallera]

"Certes, that shall be done. We will put out word to those who knew him in any case, should they wish to be present for the burial."

Cecily/Kholzug:The church of St. Cuthbert is a solid stone structure of considerable size, the cross-and-rings worked into a round stained-glass window beneath the sharp point of the roof. Calmer takes the wrapped body from the cart, pushing open the wooden door to reveal a dim hall lit by shafts of light from narrow windows under the eaves, each wall save the back lined with three tiers of stone benches looking down on a round altar in the centre. Taking you to a small door near the back of the hall, Calmer knocks once, and the door is opened by a shorter man in simple acolyte's robes, completely bald despite his apparent youth. "Here he is, Deneb. Look into who knew him and spread the word, please."

Deneb nods silently, taking the body and laying it down on a stone slab by the wall. Speaking a soft prayer over the body, he touches its face gently, as though closing its hidden eyes, and after a moment even the muffled smell of rot fades away.

"Everything shall be seen to. Miss Cielani, I can show you the library now, if you wish. I don't think Canoness Y'dey will mind if you use the lectern there to study for a while, although I can't promise we have any books you haven't seen before. Kholzug, you may stay as well if you wish, although I don't know if you want to attend to your cart."

The temple's library is indeed rather small, somewhere between a dozen and two dozen volumes, depending on how one counts the copies. A single window high in the wall fills the room with just enough ambient light to read by at this hour, clearly intended to keep the precious volumes safe from any direct light. Most of the treatises appear to be religious in nature, as one might expect, although there are a couple on subjects as wide-ranging as demonic threats and viscounty law.

Tironius:The young man shrugs, looking over his shoulder. "Bit unusual, but might be. Pa! Someone wants to rent mules for riding!"

The family resemblance in the older man that emerges from the house is remarkable, the features hardened by years and weather but otherwise almost identical. He glances about suspiciously for a moment before he focuses on Tironius and his face softens. "Ah, hello, Brother. Mules for riding, is it? It's not the use they're usually put to, so we only have pack saddles; still, if you don't mind riding bareback, I'm sure we could come to some sort of arrangement. I'd wager you're planning on leaving town, since you'd hardly need to ride about Hommlet, so assuming you've got some sort of collateral to leave by... three silvers a day per mule, how about that?"

Yeah, the spoilers are mostly for organization and easy separation of IC and OOC knowledge.

[TheFallenOne]

Tironius
For a moment the monk contemplates not revealing the purpose they were up to; the man hadn't inquired, and needlessly spreading they plan to hunt the bandits without knowing where they are or how easily news might reach them isn't prudent. But he deserves to know his animals are brought to a potentially harmful endeavour. "Three silver is in order, as is some collateral to ensure you we will return your property. I don't know how long we will be gone, and I must inform you our purpose is to chase some bandits we found evidence of nearby. Though I assure you we only need the mules to ease our travel, not to ride them into battle."

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

Cecily takes her time pursuing the volumes. She's searching for information on owlbears, anything local, and anything arcane in no particular order. Once she's gotten what she wants, or fails to find anything she likes, the young wizard takes the novel and heads down to study it. In particular, she wants to know about owlbear migration patterns, or simply anything she doesn't know already. If she finds something interesting, then she'll head over to the brother and ask him a simple question: "Can I borrow this for a few days?"

Whether she finds something or not, and whether they let her borrow their books or not, Cecily leaves after thanking them for their time and goes off to find Kholzug.

[Miraqariftsky]

Kholzug the Cleaver

Kholzug helps the young acolyte bring in the body. As Deneb prays over the dead, the orcblood warrior stands in solemnity, eventually thumping fist to chest and uttering, "Find yer peace."

"Eh?" comes Kholzug's consternation at the conundrum of the cart. He shoots Cecily a quick question. "Um, sorreh, got coffused wi' all the tracking and fighting and carrying. Eh, uh, actually whose cart would this be? Brother Thalos and his order's? Or ma'am Gundigoot 'ere and her Wench's?"

Turning back to Calmer, he says, "Much's I'd like ta stay'n peruse fer grandificating edification ere't yer archives, I hafta ask in the interest of finding those wot waylaid poor master Gren there--- Where be the way to master Rudolf's stables?"

After thanking the clerics, he takes his leave of his presumably already busy comrade. "Cez? I be findin' this Rudolf fellow, see if I can get some good hooves for the other two. Ye sure ye don't need any... Aye, aye, arright, yer reading, yer reading... "

With that, he mounts back up and tries to follow the directions the innkeep and the monks had given. He checks the sun in the sky for bearings to the southwest; stopping by a streetfood vendor's cart, a bunch of kids playing scrumball and a housewife tending her garden for confirmations on those directions.

Along the way, he tries to look for some tanner's or leatherworker's shop as well as a butcher's where he might get those owlbears appraised. The meat and pelts must surely be worth something more than a score of guilders.

Kholzug, in his scarred, weatherbeaten, bloodstained way, tries a friendly smile while jerking a thumb at the other two 'pasengers' of the cart. "Hullo, there. Fresh killed, just yesterday. How much be yer askin'?"

Damned towns. He makes sure to keep sniffing for the telltale horse**** scent of a stable.

When he finally arrives at the stables, he raps on the wall with the butt of his darkwood club and tries to look... like an unintimidating customer. "Holloa? Hallo-hallo? I be lookin' fer a master Rudolf, keeper o' these 'ere stabl'ivery?"


What? I did mention taking the PELTS [as well as the meat and the bones] more than once. We gots ta get some pocket money some way, eh?

Apologies in advance if this may've been a bit too much scope in one post.

[Sallera]

Tironius:The man chuckles dryly, shaking his head. "Heh, and a good thing you're not planning to. Bred for docility, they are; we can't have delicate goods being jostled about, after all. Alright, since you're taking them into danger, I'll ask that you leave by collateral for the full value; seven, eight gold per mule or thereabouts. How many are you wanting, and when? We'll have them ready for you as you need."

Cecily:The local wildlife, enhanced or otherwise, doesn't appear to have been of great concern to the library's owners relative to the people. The tome on viscounty law, dry though it may be, does cover many of the more recent local decrees, including the one granting control of Hommlet and its lands to Rufus and Burne for 'valorous service against evil.'

"Ah, I'm sorry, but we'd like the books to remain here. You are welcome to return later if you've found something you'd like to investigate further, though."

Kholzug/(Cecily):There does appear to be a leatherworker's shop near the edge of town, but the old gnomish woman who emerges, dressed in numerous examples of her own craft, doesn't appear impressed by the find. Swinging herself up into the cart with unexpected agility, she pokes disdainfully at the first corpse with her stick. "Not much call for a bag of feathers like this, I'm afraid, even before all the blood you've got all over it. 'Tain't the first time I've seen an owlbear, and there's not much call for them. Who'd want to eat an owl or a bear, or wear something made from the worst parts of both?"

Turning over the corpse of the one Tironius executed, she sniffs, tapping its beak. "This one, now, I still wouldn't want to work it, but in a condition this good... there's chance enough I could find a buyer of some nature. Fifteen crowns, say?"

Aside from Kholzug's enforced diversions, the road to the stables is not especially long, and Cecily catches up a few minutes after he arrives. Rudoulf turns out to be a thickly-built dwarf with short-cropped brown hair and a thin layer of stubble, and he eyes Kholzug appraisingly. "Yes, I am Rudoulf. How can I assist you today? Have you come in search of a fine mount to carry you to battle, or a solid pack-beast to haul the spoils...?"

I assumed you took your own cart there, not the inn's. (Of course, if that's the one you meant, never mind.)

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

The wizard frowns deeply when told she isn't allowed to borrow their books. She sighs, then leaves without further comment. Her research was a bust, and she had no desire to stay there when the Cuthbertians were stingy with their knowledge. Cecily follows Kholzug to the mule-keeper, but remains quiet throughout the exchange. She simply glowers at the dwarf, and at Kholzug's back. She quite obviously would rather be reading, but at least isn't voicing her discontent.

[Miraqariftsky]

Kholzug the Cleaver

Kholzug snorted at the gnomish tanner's words, agreeing, "PAH, indeed, marm. Buggers can't fly and can't bite as well as reg'lar bears can... Anyone ever figgered out how owlbears came about? Fifteen, ye say?"

The halforc frowned and tossed up the pouch that mistress Gundigoot had too recently paid him. He snorted again while loosening the strings and let one side of his mouth quirk upward in a half-smile. "Fifteen? Ah, just so happens I'm in a rush. Fifteen's good, thanks fer takin' it."

He took the payment with a grunt and while helping her unload the more intact owlbear, he asked, "If'n it be no bother t'ask, wot sorta customers ye 'ad in mind, marm, who might be wantin' something like this?"


Ha-ha-ha, I've got a feeling this might come back to bite us later on. Necromancer with an undead owlbear minion? Orrrrrrr more benevolently, some noble fellow with a fetish for collecting... oddities?


Once the stout stable-master comes out, Kholzug returns his appraising gaze, a steady downturned smile upon his craggy face. He replies, "Th' former, ser. Two hunt-worthy horses who'd not balk from battle and blood. Swift 'nough ta be able ta gain headway on quarry with a lead."

A dragging gait with stomping footfalls half-muffled by weathered skirts scuffs up behind him. Kholzug's nostrils pick up a distinct scent of tallow, parchment, ink, cotton, sweat and soap--- confirming what his ears tell him. When he hears Cecily come up behind him, he adds to Rudolf, "Koff. Amongst yer fine warhorses, have ye perchance something, hrhmm, easy to ride fer a, uhum, someone who don't ride easy?"

He crosses his arms across his chest and asks, "Arrighty then. Can we inspeck them? How much ye reckon that'd cost us, master Rudolf? Thirty guil--- er, crowns worth? Or more? Do they come with full tack?"

[TheFallenOne]

Tironius
"Fifteen gold then, as we need two", Tironius confirms with a nod. "We'll likely depart on the morrow, when we've rested and taken care of other arrangements. I'll leave the money with you and let you get back to you business." He counts out fifteen gold coins and hands them over. "Before I depart, would you happen to know where I might find the captain of your militia at the moment?"

[Sallera]

Cecily/Kholzug:The aged leatherworker snorts, propping the beast up against a wall. "I listen to what's about. Reckon I know someone who might want this critter stuffed."

At the stables, Rudoulf frowns slightly. "Certainly, I have some swift horses well suited for both battle and pursuit, and to choose one with an agreeable temperament is no challenge, but I am afraid, sir, that thirty crowns will not suffice for even a single riding beast. For two strong battle-trained mounts, I will include full tack, but I cannot ask less than three hundred in total. If that is not beyond your means, then certainly, come inside."

Tironius:"I'll be keeping these safe for you, then." Naresh stacks the coins with a smile and tucks them away. "We'll have two mules ready to leave tomorrow morning."

"Now, if it's Elmo you're after... I'd try the Welcome Wench, around this hour. Plenty o' good people share a drink there after dark; pity about that damnable bard, though. He'd lead good lads on an expedition and get them all killed with his own incompetence, if he could. Sail back to town on a river of false tears afterward, too."

If Cecily wants to continue her search for reading material, there are Renne and Zerosh's places, as well.

[TheFallenOne]

Tironius
The monk frowns for a moment at the tale of the bard. "What do you mean about this man. Is he prone to engage tasks beyond his capability or does he just have bad luck?" From the sounds of what he said it's more sinister than that, with hints at intention behind it and faked regret, but he'd better let the man elaborate instead of unnecessarily reading too much into subtext.

[Miraqariftsky]

Kholzug the Cleaver

The halforc pocketed his pay and got off to help the leathery-skinned leatherworker with shifting the more intact specimen to her storage. "Arrighty then, marm. Pleasure doin' business wid ye."

At Rudolf's stables, Kholzug's gauntleted hand rises to massage his temple. His other hand spins up the darkwood club, catches it by the head and profers it to the strangely horse-wise stablemaster.

The weapon is a finely crafted piece of woodwork, harder than oak yet lighter than yew, with a bounce to its grain seldom seen outside grasswood and bamboo. It is one and a half cubits long, the hilt wrapped in aged leather with a copper butt-cap and thong while the business end has a slight curve towards the tip. Its girth is a uniformly thick as a child's fist and makes a satisfying smack when slapped against a testing palm. The swirl of the grain of the wood looks like wisps of smoke and the nicks and scratches it has sustained through its weathering and wielding complement its deadly grace.

As Rudolf inspects the piece, Kholzug says to Rudolf, elbowing Cecily for support towards the end, "Ain't got three hundred goldilox clinking about in me pocket... but I do have this. Elvencraft piece, darkwood, iron-hard yet light as a switch. Looted from the hoard of a forsaken fane there-a-ways, o'er bleak hill an' 'cross dark dale. Quality of this thinger, 'tshould well cover a-yer askin' price, horsekeep. Ain't that right, O wise wizard?"

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

The thin wizard looks at Kholzug with a huff, then looks back to the horse vendor. "Yes. He has a very well made stick, and it's quite pretty." The sarcastic tone is immediately replaced with a sigh, and Cecily just shakes her head once before turning to her large orc-blooded companion. "Sir, why are you wanting to get some warhorses? It's not as if we're going to ride them into battle or anything."

[Miraqariftsky]

Kholzug the Cleaver

More temple-rubbing ensues, followed by a thoughtful frown and a scratching of his stubble as Kholzug addresses his bespectacled comrade. "Izzit not th' 'ypothessis that whoever we're hunting already have a considerable lead on us? If'n tha's the 'ssumption, stan's ta reason we want 'orses wot be fast. Sure, we can use 'em for freight like poor Thunder an' Lightning there, but datsch beside deh point."

Kholzug rumbles in his throat and ticks off points on his fingers. "Tonight, we rustle up wot can be rustled an' 'ear wot can be heard from master marshal er, Wotsisname. Er, Elmo, that's the ticket. Come first light or earlier on deh morrah, we set off back to where them tracks left off, see where those lead a-proper. We catch up to 'em an' bugger up wot needs buggerin' up... or if we be outmatched, a proper warhorse's speed-toughness-und-training'd come in 'andy if'n we need ta scarper outta there quicklike. We all need 'em fer gettin' in quick, gettin' out quick."

He barks a curt laugh and says, flashing her a yellow-toothed smile, "KAH-ha-schnrtk-heh. Remember an' mark ye, ma'am--- Loot don't come first. Wot's first is doin' wot's right..."

"Speakin' of right..." he continues, voice growing harsher towards the end, despite his cadence, "...Ye mention chargin' inta battle an' alla dat. Lemme put it dis way. Mos' probberly 'twould be me gettin' stuck in amongst 'em, Brother Fist sneakin' an' smashin', Brother Knifears shootin' an' spellslingin' an' you spittin' an' spellslingin'. No offense meant, Cez, spellwork's range 'as its limits. An' wot if I'm stuck amidst a melee and some beastie smashes through towards ye? Ye need speed."

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

Light plays across the young wizard's opaque glasses as she glares at Kholzug from behind them. Cecily's expression turns to a frown as she explains her position on the horses. "You and I both know I can't cast spells on a horse. If I were to even attempt to ride it in battle then I'd be useless until I dismounted. Or, worse, the horse would get hurt and I'm even worse at animal care than I am at spellcasting whilst mounted. A horse turns me from a valuable ally in battle to a liability, and that would cause serious problems for Tironious, Farin, and you."

[Miraqariftsky]

Kholzug the Cleaver

One bushy brow rises in worry, then both come together, furrowing. "Uh, I didn't say you shouldn't be dismounting? But we still need some quickness in getting to them buggers and quickness in case we're outmatched. When we're on the pursuit tomorrah, can we afford to slack the pace ta let some mule or donkey keep up? Cecily, this ain't Don Key-hoe-tee an' Sanchipanchi."

The scarred halforc smirks but grunts into a frown shortly thereafter. "And no, sorreh, can't afford to carry ye."

"And animal care?" Kholzug nods apologetically at Rudolf. "Out in the wilds, that's called meat. Well, unless it's easy enough wot can be cared for with bindings an' splints an' such."

Kholzug suddenly gives a loud cough and snaps his fingers, "Tsk! Looks like I forgot to drop me offerin' at the temple there. And mebbe I've got a bit more change now than earlier. And mebbe something an' something can get ye that book that ye missed taking out, hmm?"

[Sallera]

Tironius:"Hah, you should stay well away from him, Brother. He'll claim he's a 'renowned explorer' and all that, and his Fair words have convinced more than one, but it's all lies to lure men along on his fool quests." Naresh spits off to the side, in what is probably the general direction of the inn.

"Couldn't explore a dead-end cave without getting lost, I'd bet. Now, is he a worthless fool, or a cruel deceiver? You tell me... but I'd take a look at the sides of his head, first."

Kholzug/Cecily:Leaving Kholzug and Cecily to their debate with little more than a raised eyebrow, Rudoulf inspects the weapon, tapping it against one hand a few times. "It is a fine enough weapon," he states eventually, "and I can tell it is well-made, but I have no use for it myself; I would have to barter with Joman Dart for coin or goods. I can give you one horse and tack for it, but not two."

"If the young lady does not wish to ride, perhaps this might serve your purposes regardless?"

[TheFallenOne]

Tironius
Tironius nods gravely; it seems the bard is of Elven blood and Naresh's misgivings are at least partially racially motivated. The tale is too detailed to be entirely made up, so there likely was tragey in the bard's past endeavours, intentional or not.

Still, there was an opportunity here. It might not be too late to save this man from his preconceptions. A good way, if he isn't lost yet to the light of reason, is to let him make a falsifiable prediction based on his beliefs. And then when they turn out to be wrong he should question those beliefs, if only for a moment. "I will then exercise caution if he should voice interest in accompanying us on our hunt. Speaking of, do you have any idea who might have done it? We know the bandits had horses, but little else. We are strangers to this place. If you have heard or experienced anything that might hint at their identity or abilities, we could prepare accordingly..."

[Anderkent]

Farin

In the inn:

The cleric raises his mug in response to the stranger's greeting.
"I'm not one to tell my friends how to spend their gold - especially when it gets me free drinks. As to the reason; no particular windfall, just a job completed and payment received.

Farin's the name. With whom do I have the pleasure?"

After the man introduces himself, Farin asks: "You would be a regular here then?"

[Sallera]

Tironius:Naresh sniffs, glancing up at the sky. "Bandits means hobs, like as not. Elmo and his men have chased the blighted creatures away from town often enough they don't come back, but that don't stop them existing."

Farin:"Heh, in't that the truth?" The man snickers, setting the mug down. "Call me Chatrilon. Yeah, you could say I'm a regular here. I like listening to folks' stories; sure beats listening to Redithidoor." The mocking emphasis he puts on the name does not go unheard by the recorder-armed elf in the corner; unfortunately, the glare he gives in response only results in a missed note.

[TheFallenOne]

Tironius
"I see. Thank you for your time, we will meet again on the morrow." He gives a short bow and returns to the inn.

[Miraqariftsky]

Kholzug the Cleaver

Grumbling in his throat, the halforc throws up his arms in mock resignation and says, "Fine! For the one horse, then..."

"Waitasec." he mutters, then continues, one bushy brow raised. "Ey up. If we're dealing with just the one, wouldn't that be meanin' yer owin' us some change? This thing's easily worth two horses. Tell ye wot, twenty to fifty gold pieces in change-worth and we'll call it a good night, eh?"

[Sallera]

Kholzug/Cecily:"Oh, very well, I suppose I can wrangle another twenty from Joman. But you're getting the good end of this deal already, so that's it." Rudoulf puts the club away, bringing you inside to choose your mount. "I'd recommend Five Leaves, here," he comments, indicating a black gelding with brown socks and a similarly-coloured mark on its forehead that vaguely resembles a five-pointed leaf, at least once the name has put the image in mind. "Good temperament, good speed, and oughtn't flinch from anything regardless of which of you is riding him."

Once gathered back at the inn, you have only a half-hour's wait before Maridosen waves a lazy hand at the newest arrival to walk in the door, filling a glass before either says a word. "The usual, Captain. And those travelers there've been asking after you."

"Thank you." Leaving a few silvers on the bar, the man approaches your table. Perhaps in his late thirties or early forties, he is still lean and well-muscled. Beyond the plain dark green and black outfit he wears under a chain vest, the faint white lines of old wounds mark his hands and lower arms, but only those born from long worry mar his face. He wears a short-cropped beard, and the dark blond hair on his head is little longer.

Pulling up a chair, he takes a long pull from the mug before setting it down and looking you over. "Apologies; it's been dusty work today. I'm Elmo, captain of Hommlet's militia; who might you be, and why do you seek me?"

Holidays and illness seem to be slowing us down in general, but I hope we can get everyone back together here. If you've got further errands to run, let's do it after the conversation with Elmo.

[Miraqariftsky]

At Rudolf's, Kholzug grins and bows, clapping the dwarf on his broad shoulder. "Pleasure doin' business wid ye."

Led to Five Leaves' stall, Kholzug strokes the horse along its snout, then scratches behind the ears while offering up an apple he'd snatched from a tree earlier. "Arright, you. Don't be unlucky, arrighty? Dassagoot horsie right there, brrrrhhhmmmm, eh?"

~~~

On arriving back at the Welcome Wench, he thumps Farin's shoulder and says, "Ho, Brother Bowman. How's the fort holding?" Seeing Tironious, he claps him about as well, "Ho, Brother Fist. How fared yer way?"

"May yer cudgels never break, may yer straps never snap. Good e'en, marshal" Kholzug nods as he lounges back, greeting the lawman. "De matta, ser, issat there's this dead bugger, Mr Grin, no GREN. Driver of the cart, delivering barrels o' wine from up there-a-ways. We found 'im and 'is 'orses, dragged into the woods by owlbears wot don't usually got the smarts to do that. We rooted about and there was indeed, tracks leadin' thattaways at speed from the kill-site. We aim ta pursue, 'elp bring justice"

Grunting, gnawing on a piece of hard crust, he says to Cecily, "Well'n, Cez, um... did I miss anything on that?"

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

The little wizard nods. "That's about the right of it. We were hoping you had some kind of information concerning any bandits that might be operating in the area, or at least any suspected bandits who might live nearby."

[Sallera]

Elmo listens carefully, frowning and rubbing his chin as he considers the news. "The roads aren't as safe as we'd like them to be, for sure, although what owlbears were doing there I'd like to know myself. You don't usually see them outside the deep woods, and you're better off for it..."

Taking another sip, he sets the mug aside and outlines an area on the table with his fingers. "If you found him along the north or east way... well, imagine Hommlet is here, Verbobonc up here. Halfway between them, if you were to turn to the east and continue for a day or two, you'd reach the ruins of the old temple hereabouts. That's the best guess I can give you as to the location of your bandits, but I'm sure you can imagine why that's known and they're still there."

His mouth twists into a grimace as he continues. "There's a band of hobgoblins that's made that place their fort. They used to raid Hommlet frequently, but we taught them the futility of that often enough that they mostly stay clear. That said... while we'd like to see them gone, we don't even have a solid estimate of their numbers; Xaod said he killed some when he was investigating, but the place was well-fortified. I can't take the militia to war with an enemy that isn't directly threatening the town - especially since they might well get around us if we tried and they caught wind of it in advance."

"If all that sounds discouraging... well, it's meant to. If you still want to go after them, I would appreciate your efforts, but if the trail leads you in that direction, please be careful. They're not a band to take lightly."

[TheFallenOne]

"So the remains of the temple still house a lesser evil, I see..." Tironius tabs the table thrice with his index finger. "Are these hobgoblins known to use horses? We found clear trails of that. I'd rather not assault them without immediate provocation if the current status quo is one of noninterference, or we risk letting the people of Hommlet suffer for it.

The stolen wine is too expensive to just be wasted away, and we have to consider the bandits knew this. If you and your men keep your eyes open for it to turn up at nearby merchants... We can't guarantee the trail won't run cold."

[Sallera]

"They have some horses, certainly. Not enough for their entire force, but they made good use of them in their raiding."

Elmo nods his assent, sitting back again. "A good point, especially if turns out not to have been the hobgoblins after all. I'll make sure Joman and Terrigan know to look out for unexpected shipments. Do you know what sort of wine it was?"

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

"The hobgoblins live in the area, right? We could ask them if they know of any bandits. Offer them food or something in trade. If we can open trade with the hobgoblins, then it would be fairly easy to turn them from raiders into allies of the town. After all: They're only raiding because they can't settle out of fear of the people attacking them--or worse, Verbobnoc getting involved. So, why not offer them food and safety in exchange for their help hunting down bandits or other dangers to either town. Then they get what they want: A place to settle. And you get what you want: A way to keep the roads safe."

[Anderkent]

Farin

"Well, it seems you have a problem that is a bit more like our usual engagement than the previous job. But, speaking frankly, we took this delivery task because we needed the money. If we're to investigate the murder and handle your hobgoblin problem, I believe some recompense would be fair.

As to the wine, I believe it would be the same kind of order as we delivered - I suppose the inn caretakers can provide the details. Some of it was destroyed, so the quantity sold will be smaller. But this likely was a crime of opportunity, and the wine will be simply consumed - one can hardly expect bandits to know its worth."

[TheFallenOne]

"You're too hasty", Tironius admonishes their mage. ""It may well be peaceful coexistance with this group of hobgoblins won't be possible. Unsupported preconceptions go both ways - just as it is wrong to assume the goblins are guilty because of their race, we also shouldn't assume without evidence they are innocent of the crime or covetting peace. The captain has more experience with this group, and judges their involvement likely. If our trail leads to the goblins, a confrontation will likely be inevitable. Even if the raid wasn't conducted by the whole group, they're likely reluctant to punish those in their midst with the resentment born of conflict with the villagers. And if they are innocent I fear such negotiations might be beyond the authority of us or even the captain. Verbobonc or the people of Hommlet and those who already suffered loss might object. Our negotiations would have to go both ways."

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

"Quick to point out the mistakes of others, but blind to your own as always." Cecily responds quickly, and much more snappish than normal. "Just as we can't assume they're peaceful, we also cannot assume they are needlessly warlike. I am merely giving them the benefit of the doubt, whereas you are needlessly jumping to the conclusion that they're not interested in survival--And make no mistake about it: That is what is on the line for them this close to Verbobnoc. If our trail leads to the hobgoblins, then so be it. But to march out with the assumption that they are warlike in nature is damning any possibility of negotiation from the outset. More than that, you're speaking as if you know they're guilty, and yet admonish me for making assumptions in the same breath. Perhaps the good 'brother' should spend some time in contemplation on his own faults before casting stones."

[TheFallenOne]

The monk raises an eyebrow at Cecily's answer. "I did say preconceptions go both ways. Do not assume I believe the opposite just because I didn't endorse your assessment. We have multiple testimonies towards the goblins' previous activities. Not enough to condemn them entirely, but enough to be wary and cautious. Our next step has to be obtaining more evidence, and following the trail of the bandits will accomplish that."

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

"Again with baseless assumptions: We have proof only that they raid and with no concern of why. Yet, once more, you decide without thought that their actions are malicious rather than necessary. I do not need to assume you believe the opposite, because you have spoken it. I think their actions are solely for survival, and steps could be taken to better the situations of everyone involved. But only if we put aside racist concepts such as inherently malicious beings, good brother."

[TheFallenOne]

Tironius closes his eyes for a second and exhales audibly. "I do not recall speaking of malice. While the reasons for their conflict with Hommlet are very relevant for how to end it, it has less bearing on our need to exercise caution, for we are now associated with this village. And if you know something I do not to give weight to your assumption they only act out of self-preservation I will listen with an open mind."

[Miraqariftsky]

Sipping slowly at his tankard, Kholzug rumbles deep in his throat then slams the vessel down on the table, hard.

He belches still for good measure, then says, "Yeah? 'Old yer friggen 'orses, the both o' yeh. Come on. No need ta be gettin' uppity, serves naught but Nerull, 'Extor an' Gruumsh dat y'all be bickerin'."

He continues, "Y'don't stay alive by trustin' ever'body. w'fluffy bunnies un' unicaaawns. Be dey gobbo or bandido or whatnot, lookit, argh, whatsamacallit, their previous record, that's the ticket. Both known for raiding. Marshal, besides simple raiding, 'ave either lot of buggers been known for worse stuff, like say, rape-slay-burn-daemonsummon? No? Then we's assume dey be raiders. Most likely 'ostile, but not beyond reason."

He ticks out points on one hand and says, "We's finds 'em. Be wary, stay on our toes. Case their joint. Iffen dey looks like dey be up to bastardy an' buggery, we hit 'em hard, den negotiate from a position o' strength, 'opefully. Hobgobs respeck strength, but also cunning. Iffen dey look 'alfway peaceable, we'z drops by, sez ELLO asks dem whatsits-seen-owlbear-tamers or whatnots go thattaways? Oh really? Fine, thankee, 'ave a nice friggen day"

He takes another drink and grunts, "Arrighty?"

[Sallera]

Elmo lets the argument continue with little more than a slightly raised eyebrow, evidently no stranger to such scenes, and steps in only after Kholzug intervenes. "Miss, I don't know if you've dealt with hobgoblins before, but they're not like us here, planting the seeds of better days. Whether it's culture alone or runs as deep as the blood, they enjoy fighting; you can see it every time you face them. It's... ah, I don't know; almost a game to them, I think. A bloody, complicated game that lasts their entire lives. I don't doubt they're raiding to live - the forests only provide so much in the way of forage - but I wouldn't assume they're not also living to raid, as it were."

"I can't say they're into all of that," he replies to Kholzug with a faint smile. "I've certainly faced worse evils."

Elmo seems to be warming to the idea of you facing the hobgoblins, for your confidence if nothing else, but he frowns as he speaks of returns. "Unfortunately, while I'd be grateful if you succeeded, I can't authorize payment for work against an enemy that's not directly threatening the town. You might be able to petition Rufus for a reward if you succeeded, I suppose, or simply take what you can right back from the raiders. I don't doubt that would be fairly rewarding in itself, given how long they've been out there."

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

The wizard nods at Elmo. "I know, sir. And that was my intention: By offering them food you remove part of the impetus for them raiding the town and caravans. And by offering them asylum to fight bandits and highwaymen, then you give them incentive to combat your enemies and not your allies. They'll still have their battle, but it will be against those you know to be dangerous to your town and not against your town itself. Literally everyone gets what they want. Except, well, the robbers and highwaymen. But who cares about what they want?"

[TheFallenOne]

"I'm afraid pleasing everyone won't be this easy", Tironius says, taking another sip of watered down wine. "Some here won't want peace with the goblins. Those with prejudice. Those who experienced loss at their hand. There may be division along religious lines. The goblins likely suffered casualties as well they are not wont to forget."

He takes the everpresent tome bound between two wooden covers from his belt and continues speaking as he leafes through it. "It is the nature of conflict to propagate itself, as new reasons to hate the enemy are born. Still, your plan of using their disposition to fighting has merit and is a worthy endeavour, but be prepared to face opposition and reluctance from both sides."

[roll0]
[roll1]

on hobgoblin culture and faith regarding what value it puts on armed conflict and their general view of humans

[Anderkent]

Farin

Farin tunes out as discussion strays to philosophy, only acknowledging Elmo's budgeting explanations. It seems they will be going to the hobgoblin camp, and whether it will be to fight or parley will depend on hobgoblins enthusiasm for negotiation. No point discussing that before we've seen the place.

[Sallera]

Tironius:To a religious hobgoblin, battle is service, and victory its own reward. Maglubiyet favours successful leaders and clever tacticians as much as devoted worshippers, and sometimes grants the spark of power to an especially promising young hobgoblin, a well-known and much-coveted sign of his favour that helps to drive the fierce competition between neighbouring tribes or warbands as they seek to draw their god's attention. Some few tend to lose themselves entirely in the quest for strife, abandoning notions of customary religious devotion in favour of the "pure heart," a somewhat euphemistic term other hobgoblins use to describe these hyper-focused berserkers.

Most hobgoblins have a middling-to-poor opinion of humans; too lax, unfocused, and flighty, as a species, to be worth any real attention or respect. Individuals with a clear and polished talent for command, as well as deep pockets, can sometimes buy their services as mercenaries, however.

[Miraqariftsky]

Kholzug the Cleaver

For the most part... Kholzug agrees with Farin's unspoken BAH and the halforc suddenly stands, bangs his now-drained tankard against the table and belches. He stretches as he gets off and says while pointing at Tironius, "Datsch right, Brother Fist... but wot's also right issat... ffff... guh, 'ow you put dis... dem 'obgobs, HELL, most o' beastkin like yours truly have 'BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD' in deh reli-juns. Frankly, iffen I coulds, I'da be a farmuh or a schola like Cez 'ere, but dass neider 'ere nor dere."

Kholzug shrugs, shoulders his ancestral axe and says, "Nyhow, youse wants me best bet? Make friends =BY= buttin’ ‘eads. Dats de gobbo way. Cez, I be back atcher room, ‘opefully afore midnight. Iffen I takes too long, go a’ead an’ lock up. Goin’ out fer a evenin’ stroll, y’all.”


Kholzug makes his way to the temple of St Cuthbert, makes obeisance before the altar and prays with whoever’s attending the vesper service. Afterwards, he tries to find the monk with whom Cecily had spoken earlier and presents him with the old darkwood shield and half the change from Rudolf’s.

“Brother” he begins. “De lady earlier, she ‘ad some books she wuz readin’ an’ wanted ta be takin’ out. No, HAH, hell no, she didn’t send me. Own accord. Anyhow, iffen it be arright wid ye, yer eminence, I be takin’ those tomes, then, eh? An’ iffen they can’t be taken, take ‘em as loans, then, this ‘ere trusty shield wot’s saved me through more seasons’n I can count be me collat’ral. Wotsay ye?”

[TheFallenOne]

It takes Tironius a moment to 'decipher' Kholzug's input, and after a short pause he nods. "They are indeed religiously predisposed to armed conflict, but not exactly like that. They are often better organized than you think, and Maglubiyet favours victory in battle through prowess and skillful tactics higher than simple bloodshed. Indeed, Cecily's plan might work if we can convince them to better honor their good through fighting armed bandits than simple farmers."

[Sallera]

Kholzug:Calmer holds up a hand at the offer, looking somewhat uncomfortable as he phrases a reply. "Look, I appreciate the gesture, and I can see you're trying to help a friend, but it's not that simple. We keep those books here for good reason, and most of them we only have a single copy of. You're travellers, and warriors as well, unless I greatly miss my guess. If we have need of the finer particulars of the local legal code, and it's off on a battlefield somewhere, or sitting in a highwayman's pockets, a bag of crowns isn't going to serve the same purpose, you see?"

[Sallera]

The next day dawns clear and rather dusty, a keen west wind whistling through Hommlet and offsetting the warmth of the morning sun. Vesta serves scrambled eggs, fried potatoes, and generous slices of ham to a lively common room, breakfast time at the inn seemingly rather shorter than the dinner hour. Naresh adds a pack saddle to one of the mules readily enough when Tironius mentions Kholzug's recent purchase, although he also offers to only rent the one.

Free of the burden of a laden cart, you make better time on the return journey, the sun just past the meridian when you reach your destination. Even so, you almost miss it - the rise is difficult to spot through the waving grass at the best of times, and only a break in a passing cloud of dust reveals the uneven ground. The scene is more or less as you left it, sheltered from the wind and still smelling of the detritus of a pair of scavengers.

I assume you left your newly acquired cart in Hommlet; it'll be late afternoon if you brought it along.

[Anderkent]

Farin

Following his companions, Farin is wary. Chances are whoever attacked the merchant in the first place has their contacts in Hommlet, and the group was not exactly secretive of their plans. This would be one of better places to stage an ambush if someone was not agreeable to the party's involvement.



I assume the marching order looks something like Tironius and Kholzug, followed by Cecily, and Farin trailing.

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

Cecily follows behind the group loosely. She informed the group concerning her spell choices in the morning, because it always behooved the party to know what her spells were.

[Miraqariftsky]

Kholzug the Cleaver

The halforc had returned to Cecily's room shortly before midnight. Unfortunately, empty-handed.

If she was still awake, he'd have presented for the evening's lesson, whatever she might have wanted to discuss. If she wasn't, well... he couldn't afford any of the local whores with his present money, assuredly, and any two-coppers would likely cost him more in the long run.

~~~

Kholzug upon Thunder leads the way, together with Tironius. His shield and lance are out, black eyes darting from shadow to shadow, in case there might be yet more ambushers.

[Sallera]

Despite starting out well, you are but half an hour past the cart when Kholzug realizes he has lost the trail entirely. Yellowing grass and a few scrubby bushes surround you in all directions, with little but the distant forest for a landmark; while the plains do not make for terrible terrain to trace a group of riders through, once off course, the lacking variation in the environment is not conducive to getting back on.

[TheFallenOne]

"They probably slowed down in their flight once they were well away from the owlbears", Brother Tironius says, halting his mule and dismounting. "That and time will make it harder to follow them, but still with their numbers and the terrain we should keep looking." He wanders back a bit and looks around for signs of the lost track.

[roll0]
[roll1]

rolls for the first hour

[Miraqariftsky]

Kholzug grunts his agreement and stows the lance. He dismounts, getting down into the dirt and the grass once more, turning logs and leaves carefully as he tries to retrace the buggers' trail...


>plus bonus from Aid Another?
[roll0]<---if needed
Survival/Track: [roll1]
Spot: [roll2]
Search: [roll3]

CARAMBA. Horribility.
In hindsight... should have tried to hire a guide... or rent a bloodhound.

[Sallera]

An even hour of searching produces no traces; eventually, you are forced to backtrack some distance. Dismounting and carefully fanning out, you manage to pick up where the old tracks diverged from your own, and a slow and methodical trek across the plains ensues. The buzzing of flies and rustle of grass is the only sound to be heard, although the former fades and the latter increases as the light begins to fade and the wind rises further.

Hills rise to either side as evening stretches out across the land, perhaps two miles away in either direction as it finally becomes too dark to continue for anyone but Kholzug and Farin. The winds continue to race across the plains with increasing eagerness, scattering the usual crowd of birds and sending most other animals to their dens; little else can be heard save your own voices.

[TheFallenOne]

When the fading light of day made continued pursuit impractical Tironius slows his mule down with a soft tug. "Looks like we need to stop. Your night eyes are better than mine, see a good place to stay for the night? I can take the first watch and leave the dark of night to those better suited to it." Once they had decided on a resting spot, he secures the mule and prepares his bedroll for later.

[Sallera]

It is difficult to locate appropriate shelter out on the plains, but you manage to find a hollow large enough to keep you out of the chill gusts when lying down, at least. The wind blows steadily for most of the night, but drops off to a mere breath near dawn, and is barely to be felt by the time you are ready to set out again. This does have the side-effect of making the day's growing heat that much more noticeable, and the plains' tinier denizens are out in full force, a whining, buzzing presence that ignores even the most persistent waving and slapping.

All in all, it is not a pleasant day for cross-country travel. Having the trail end at a road as evening approaches does little to help matters.

The wide track stretches from southwest to northeast, angling a little further toward the east in the distance. A dense forest stands not two miles from the other side of the road, which skirts it at a fairly even distance, but no amount of searching on the other side reveals any traces of your quarry; they seem to have taken the road from here, in one direction or the other. The road itself seems little-used, but it is still hard enough that no usable tracks are left after this amount of time.

Kholzug/Cecily:You're fairly sure that the southern end of this road would eventually lead you back to Hommlet; where the northern end goes is anyone's guess, although it's close enough to the location Elmo indicated that there's a decent chance it will take you there - as long as there is somewhere roads go, at least.

[Miraqariftsky]

Kholzug slowly straightens from his crouch and says aloud, "Treachery, or frakkery? Thattaway's back to town. Thissaway's nowhere-to-nowhere, but mebbe leads to that-there place the good marshal'd mention'd. Wotsay y'all?"

[Anderkent]

Farin

"No point turning back now. We have one lead - let's follow it and see what we find."

[TheFallenOne]

Neither chill wind nor hot sun have any effect on Tironius; a salutary effect of the small green crystal attached to his bracers. No such simple displays of nature should distract him from his pursuits, though unfortunately it has no effect on the insects about.
"I agree. The militia have been informed to look out for the wine turning up should the bandits have been native to Hommlet. Exploring the other direction seems more fruitful. Though should we encounter the hobgoblins we should not immediately assume hostility. There is no clear link to the crime now."

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

While Cecily had grown used to the cold she was much less acclimatized to heat. The young wizard rubs her forehead to get rid of the sweat, and for a moment curses her inability to magically push away the weather. When the group talks about where to go Cecily has nothing to say. After all, there was only one way to go as far as she was concerned: Toward the bandits.

When Tironius speaks up Cecily frowns at him. "We shouldn't have immediately assumed hostility to begin with, because there was no clear link to the crime before. You immediately assumed as much when you learned they were hobgoblins." Cecily turns back to Kholzug, then looks toward the route going to town. "Whether it's treachery or an attempt to throw off their pursuers is irrelevant. We can't go back to town and just randomly accuse people of being traitors, so we have to press forward."

[TheFallenOne]

"The link would have been there if the trail had led us without fail to the hobgoblins. And I'd appreciate it if you ceased your wrongful allegations of racial prepossessions, they are getting tiring", Tironius says, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice.

[ZeroNumerous]

Cecily

"Do you even listen to yourself? You came here to look for a link to the hobgoblins, but claim that you're not racist. Well, what about Kholzug? He's obviously not completely human, so can he be trusted? How about Farin? After all, who knows what the elf is planning? I'll stop accusing you when it stops being true." Cecily continues on down the path away from town. She clearly has nothing more to say to Tironius, and makes no attempt to argue further.

[Miraqariftsky]

Kholzug the Cleaver

After listening to his companions' bickering, Kholzug stands up from the stone on which he'd rested his weary arse. He growls and slowly unships his greataxe. He heaves it high, then brings it crashing down on the rock, splitting it with a flash of sparks from steel on stone.

"THERE." he growls, crackling his knucles around the axe's haft. "Will youse twain jess SHADDAP, friggen SHADDAP fer a gaddem tick?"

He heaves a long sigh and shoulders his weapon, glaring at the two belligerents. "Good. Now't I gots yer attention, LISSEN, willyers? Lissenna yerselves. Deh godsa Chaos, DIS is wot dey wants. How the frak are we sapposed ta be helpin' whoever iffen y'all be bickerin' like gorram yappin' dogs?"

Kholzug jabs a finger down the paths and says, "Itsch dis way, or datta way. Or go some random way, throw everything away. Cez, much as we're inta charitably bustin' bandit an' cultist heads, it's just plain no-malice survivavivalism dat we'se suspects everybody. Better safe than sorry."

The halforc then levels a glaring growl at Tironius and says, "Much's I admit yer a good warrior ta fight beside, Brother Fist, iffen ye gets lippy or offenderizing Cez 'ere, ye haffs me word dat I will mess ye up. Atwixt her an' ye, I'll take 'er side come 'ell or 'ighwater. Ye savvy, bucko?"

Kholzug tips his helm at Farin and says, "Brother Bow, thankee kindly fer NOT yappin' like crazy. Oh, and hope this'd make ye laugh ha-ha-ha, IFFEN ye ever do betray us, do please have the decency ta be quick an' ovbious about it, eh?"

He then jabs his hand down the path again and says before resolutely leading the way thither, "We'se takin' thattaway. We be ready fer both TALKA or CHOPPA. We decides wot we does when we gets derr an' sees wots wot, hears wots wot. Y'all savvy? Arright, let's go..."

[Sallera]

The ground near the road proves a more comfortable camp than out on the moor, the nearby forest perhaps lending some clemency to the weather. Your rest is once again peaceful, the watchers disturbed by nothing more threatening than a thrush.

The next morning is clear and calm, but the skies grow darker ere long, the winds picking up once again and the promise of rain lingering in the air. The road curves around to the east after a few hours, then back toward the south after a few more, following the edge of the forest all the while. It is perhaps mid or late afternoon when the first notable landmark comes into view; the light seems to be beginning to fade, but it is difficult to tell through the thick cloud cover.

Ahead of you lies a small hamlet - or something resembling one, at least. The trees are closer here, and a stream crosses the path, flowing under a small bridge that appears to suffer from a few structural deficiencies. Huts of sod, mud brick, roughly hewn logs, or scrap timber are clustered about two intersections on the other side, only a few among them larger or sturdier than the rudest peasant's shack, and several of them collapsed entirely. No one seems to be about, the only things moving in the area windblown leaves and creaking planks. In ten years, the land will likely have been reclaimed by the forest, if the hamlet is indeed deserted, but for now, at least, it yet provides a façade of livability.

[TheFallenOne]

"I'm inclined to trust each of them more than you, for neither has shown me repeated hostility without provocation. That's all I'm going to say on the matter. If you claim insight into my mind in contradiction to the thoughts I express more words won't be able to sway you."

He watches the hamlet with curious eyes; abandoned, it seemed, at least by those who once built it. If a hostile force displaced them, something with less desire or ability to maintain structures, it might still be about. "Kholzug, could you check for tracks again before we continue? Perhaps we have more luck here if we took the right turn."

[Sallera]

After a cautious examination of the approach to the hamlet, Kholzug determines that there are few, if any, leading into the area itself; any travelers still on the road at this point seem to leave the path shortly before the bridge, heading east into the forest.

[Miraqariftsky]

The surly halforc crouches over a patch of grass
Bent the slightest on the path they did pass
Footfalls few their mark there do leave
"Izza dis or dat, y'all. I believe
Most-a dem gits passin'
Thissaway be leavin'
Roadsway an' goin'
Inta the foresst
Beyond.
Few only go thattaway inta there"

[Anderkent]

Farin

"The hamlet is not a major detour - let's see if there's anything of notice in there."

The chance we may find something interesting may be small, but cost of investigating seems negligible.

"We should be careful, though. If the building is abandoned, it could be nest to wildlife, or used by more nefarious passers-by."

[TheFallenOne]

"I agree. There's a good chance we already lost the trail anyway, so investigating this settlement looks like as good a use of our time as anything else." He dismounts, leading the mule by the reins. "Perhaps only use the bridge one at a time, it looks in dangerous disrepair."

[Miraqariftsky]

Kholzug scowls but nods in agreement. He gestures ahead and says, "Brother Fist, y'go ahead an' case the joint, make sure 'tis clear. Brother Bow, mebbe ye can follow 'im at a distance. Cez an' me'd bring up the rear. That way, in case they're nasties, we three can cover 'is retreat. In case they're friendlies but undoubtedly suspicious--- single friggers shouldn't be too threatening, eh?"

Doubling back a bit, he holds Cecily's shoulder with a bit of worry. "Cez. Youse arright there?"

[TheFallenOne]

"Of course. Watch my mule, it would get in the way." Tironius advances into the makeshift village, keeping out of sight as much as possible, blending into the shadows when the available cover isn't enough for his liking.

[Sallera]

The bridge creaks ominously under Tironius's feet as he enters the village, but does not appear to be in any immediate danger of collapse. Immediately to the right is one of the larger buildings in town, with walls of sawn timber and a foundation of fieldstone. No signs mark its name, if indeed they ever did, but the door hangs half off its hinges, and the dusty interior appears to have once been an inn or tavern. The dim shapes of overturned tables stand out in the gloom, and an intermittent howl seems to emanate from the upper floor, although it is difficult to tell where it originates from, or if it is simply the gusting wind.

A few buildings further on, the road branches to the southwest, lined by structures that were clearly once places of business, but show every sign of having been thoroughly ransacked. A small stable, what were likely once craftsmen and merchants; most have doors hanging open or holes in the walls. The end leads to a little-used track that seems to continue on well past the town.

Another careful twenty paces along the main road takes you to the second intersection. A few scattered huts line the main road, quickly fading as it curves around to the east. To the northeast, some slightly more sturdy structures line the way; the first building on your right catches your eye as you move closer. Barely any paint remains on the weathered sign, although the few remaining traces of purple and green serve to mark what was once a herb shop. What catches the eye, however, is the signs that this building, of all those nearby, is - at least recently - inhabited. The door has a large hole knocked out of it, but it is shut firmly; through the gap, you can see, if a mess, at least a relatively ordered one, with a path cleared through the debris to a back room, and not nearly as even a distribution of dirt and dust as the rest of the structures.

The end of the road leads to the burnt shell of a warehouse or loading dock; beyond, an old riverboat that appears only barely afloat gently rocks back and forth atop the apparent source of the small river, a lake barely a hundred feet across. It seems that anyone wanting to bypass the hamlet would not have far to go to avoid swimming the river.

[TheFallenOne]

Tironius walks through the ghost town with measured steps. Apart from that one building he can see no signs of forced entry on the doors, who whatever end befell the village, it is unlikely to be a sudden and violent attack at first glance.

The recently used building draws his attention, but before entering through the damaged door he rounds the structure clockwise, taking further looks inside through the windows and cracks in the walls. After this, he ducks through the hole in the door, vanishing into the shadows for this brief moment of vulnerability.

[Sallera]

The back room of the shop appears to have no windows, and there are fewer cracks in the wood here; some have been repaired. Only one is wide enough to peer through, and reveals little but a dark corner beyond. The hole in the front door is not large enough to fit through; entering would require opening the door.

"Yes, sir. This place just feels sort of... icky." Cecily frowns at the village, Lunch silently standing at alert beside her.

[TheFallenOne]

Satisfied there are no other exits, Tironius holds his staff at the ready and opens the door. The hinges are likely lacking oil and might announce him if anyone's still inside, but there was nowhere to run to and coming alone should make the occupant feel less threatened if he isn't inclined to start a fight right away.

[Sallera]

The door does indeed squeal mightily as it swings open; the hole probably isn't helping its balance, and it clearly hasn't seen any maintenance worth mentioning. The various accoutrements of the herb shop are mostly still scattered around inside, although anything fragile is broken and the pieces roughly swept aside. The passable trail leads to the back room, apparently once blocked by a door but now open. It is too dark to see anything much inside, save for a single line of faint, flickering light filtering from under a door in the far corner.

[TheFallenOne]

If someone is here the time to call for backup was already past, so Tironius stands still in the dark room, listening for any movement while his eyes adjusted to the darkness. If there is no reaction to his presence, he steps back out and waves with his staff for the others to come over, staying as close to the door as possible.

doh, why didn't I notice I lack a sunrod before opening the door

[Anderkent]

Farin

"Let's go."
Seeing Tironious's signal, Farin moves closer. He takes the bridge first, then keeps watch while the rest of the party crosses. When everyone is in the village, he follows the group to join the monk.

[TheFallenOne]

"The place is deserted, only that building seem's to have seen recent use, which warrants a closer look." He points at the open door. "I might have heard something from inside the tavern as well. Perhaps the wind, perhaps not."

[Miraqariftsky]

Kholzug's gaze narrows
At his comrade's unsaid harrows
He gives her one more comforting pat
Then takes off after the others,
"Be ready. Hope it's not worse"
He growls and makes for
The creaking
Flickering
Door...

[Sallera]

You cautiously make your way into the former herb shop once more, this time entering the back room, which Kholzug can see is more or less empty, with only small bits of refuse tossed into the corners. You get little further, however, before the far door opens, spilling flickering candlelight out into the room. The figure that comes with it could perhaps best be described as grotesque. The man's clothes are fine but dirty, a recent winestain on his shirt, and only the beautiful spiderweb-patterned cloak on his back is free of small tears. He might once have been just as beautiful himself, and a shadow of that remains in his long blond hair and pale, smooth skin, but his face is a ruin. His chin is indented and lopsided, and his upper lip torn at one corner, the skin missing halfway up his cheek; his nose is a flattened and crumpled mess, barely functional. One eye is a blank white orb, although the other remains functional, and both are sunken under misshapen brows. By rights, the wound that gave him such scars ought to have killed him, but he is just as clearly alive.

"Learn to knock, you uncultured boors," he says as he strides out of the room, looking about in all directions. "Do you need another lesson, or should I ensure you never come..." He cuts himself off in midsentence, his remaining eye seeming to focus on your presence, and he clears his throat and turns to face you properly. "Ah, it seems I was mistaken. You are new, and can still be educated. Give me your hand." Inclining his head ever so slightly in your direction, he extends a hand as though to shake.

[TheFallenOne]

The man is obviously surprised to see them, but has no air of hostility about him, so Tironius decides to show a token of trust and extends his hand. "Well met. I am Brother Tironius. Could you perhaps tell us what place we came across? We didn't hear of a settlement in this direction, and the inhabitants seem to have abandoned it long ago. And my faith is always eager to learn, though I'd like to know what exactly you wish to educate us about." His eyes flicker to the cloak, at odds with the quality of the rest of his belongings. He might have recently acquired it, or perhaps magic inherent in the garment preserves it.

unless of course my +5 Sense Motive suspects foul play

[Sallera]

"I am Lerath, and it was your manners I wished to correct," he snaps as he takes the offered hand. There is no hostility in his bearing, although he clearly isn't especially pleased with your presence, and he lets go after a token grip. "This is Nulb. Of course you have not heard of it; it is a nothing-place, an ugly ruin of no note and no worth, and now it suits me. You do not. I have no desire for company. State your business or begone."

Tironius:Make a Will save, DC19.

On success:It is so subtle you barely notice it, but a faint trace of compulsion brushes across your mind as you touch Lerath's hand, swiftly dismissed by your passive mental discipline. It was a curious feeling, though; indirect and almost benign, as though it sought not to compel any immediate action, but rather make a minor... adjustment.
On failure:You notice nothing. As will later become apparent, however, you are now compelled to knock before passing through any door, window, or other portal, regardless of whether it is closed at the time.

[Anderkent]

Farin

With the light provided by Lerath, Farin tries to spot any details that may hint on what the man is doing here, without being too obvious about it.

"Apologies, we're just passing by. Farin, by the way.

It's rare to find anyone in places like this, and we were just trying to find out what happened here, and when.

I take it you were expecting someone, so I'll keep it short. Have you per chance seen a group of riders passing by, a couple days ago, possibly showing signs of battle?"


not sure if that warrants a spot check, but it doesn't hurt to roll. Farin is mostly looking for any weapons or traces of other people.

Spot: [roll0]

[Sallera]

Lerath makes a wheezing sound that might have been an attempt at a disdainful snort. "Riders, here? Even Eisn and his soldiers don't bring horses into Nulb. They would only attract the vermin. Is that all?"

Farin:You can see little from where you are standing; no weapons, and certainly no other people. A look inside Lerath's room might be more informative, but the angle prevents it at the moment.

[TheFallenOne]

"My apologies for intruding, we honestly didn't know what to expect when entering this place." He tries to keep his voice level when the revelation of this settlement's name triggered something he heard before. Still, the man had to get his wine from somewhere, it was worth a shot. "Before we leave, would you be kind enough to spare a cup of wine for a weary traveller in exchange for some coin?"

[Miraqariftsky]

"Aye, dassright. Sorreh, an' all. Ser." the halforc grates.

From the doorway, Kholzug grunts and nods in assent at his comrades' words. Pretending to scratch an itch on his nose, grateful for his meaty hand, his helm and the shadows, he tries to hide his uneasiness and distrust of the old man. On the other side of his profile-turned body, he keeps one hand ready on his axe. What in Hextor's arse is with this old man? How could he still be ALIVE with such wounds as those?

[Sallera]

"Kind. Coin," Lerath sneers, planting his boot on a piece of rubble and spitting a few incomprehensible words. Light blossoms to showcase the dirty emptiness of the back room, and he kicks the glowing stone into a corner, wavering shadows playing unpleasantly across his face.

"What kindness do you see here?" he snaps, his voice rising as he sweeps an arm out to one side. "What use have I for coin?" His outburst ends as suddenly as it began, and his tone softens, although his expression seems no less bitter - if indeed it ever does, with such a face. "But you learn quickly. Wine you shall have, and by the time you finish, you will have thought of something more appropriate to offer."

With a small beckoning motion, Lerath turns and leads the way to the open door. His room is nearly as dilapidated as the rest of the shop, but its furnishings are of far more varied quality. The bed is old and ragged, and may well have come with the shop; most of the bedclothes are little newer, save a single navy quilt with finely detailed embroidery. A functional chair and writing desk take up the other corner of the small space, the one of carved cedar and the other barely-intact oak; little writing takes place on this desk, however, which holds only a set of crystal goblets, an empty plate, and a single small book with no title, bound in black leather. A basket holding half a loaf of bread and some cheese sits against the wall, alongside two crates with the by-now-familiar mark of the monastery in Verbobonc.

Lerath takes another bottle from the open one and pours a glass for each of you, although Cecily refuses the drink as usual, and he takes the spare for himself. The room is rather too small to hold five people, and he frowns, gesturing you outside again. He offers no toast, merely taking a large mouthful; the wine is a fiery amber of high quality, stronger than most and tasting of citrus and oak.

[TheFallenOne]

The ruse worked better than expected, though the announcement of alternate payment did sound ominous. Tironius subtly shifts his feet a few inches, switching into a more stable stance. "I am afraid you have tipped your hand Lerath. This wine was stolen, and the owner murdered. Who brought it here?" His staff, held only with the left, is firmly planted on the ground. He makes no aggressive move yet, but readies himself should the bedraggled man try to run or fight.

[Sallera]

Lerath takes another drink, slowly, then glares at you. "'Tipped my hand?' You forget your manners again." Flicking a hand as though to brush away the matter, he makes another odd wheezing sound.

"What care I where Eisn's men get their wine?" His gaze begins to drift away from you, shifting in random directions as he speaks. "They bring me gifts when they wish my services. Last time they brought wine. A very pleasant thing to have, when it is fine enough. Perhaps they thought me in need of it? Pity the hermit, or fear him..."

He seems to snap back into focus suddenly, his tone low and sardonic. "Both would be wise. What gifts have you brought, to ask such questions of me?"

[Miraqariftsky]

Kholzug shoots Cecily a questioning glance
As if asking whether this were earnest
Or danger close, a madman's dance
Still, he brings out his shield so blest
Unnerved by strangeness
A creeping gut feeling of horror dawning

"Brother Fist. Sar Lerath. May'ap this be summat? Ain't got nothin' else. Sorreh."

[Sallera]

Lerath studies the shield intently, not yet touching it. "This is an ancient piece. Worn, forgotten, and still strong; a fitting decoration. Place it against the wall, there, then drink, and be silent a while."

His expression shifts into something that might once have been more pleasant, but now has little to distinguish it from a sneer. "This wine came from Eisn's men. One of them was near death from a dozen wounds, and they wanted him saved. They were sufficiently polite, and their gifts appropriate, so I obliged them. If you wish to visit them, then take the southeast road to the temple tomorrow - but my hospitality does not extend to letting you stay here. Find another ruin for shelter."

[Anderkent]

Farin

"Thank you. We shall not bother you again."

Once outside, Farin turns to Kholzug:
"Quick thinking there, and a good job. It's only fair that we help you fund a replacement, though I do not know if darkwood is easy to come by around here. If you find something you fancy, do tell us."

He takes a look around the ruined village, and continues
"Lerath is right in that we're unlikely to find a better place to rest than one of these buildings. Tironius, you mentioned sounds from the tavern? Perhaps some rooms there are still usable."

[TheFallenOne]

"I would not recommend it, for as he mentioned the name of this place I remembered something I had read of its history. Nulb was settled in the days of the old Temple, and made its living from providing services to the inhabitants of this evil place. It is said this village is haunted now, and we might do better making camp well outside its confines."
He looks back at the tavern a short ways up the road. "Still, a short investigation of what I might have heard would be worthwhile. Trust our own eyes, not rumors."

[Miraqariftsky]

"Sar. Orr tenks." Kholzug grunts as he sets the trophy up on the hermit's mantle.

Back outside, the halforc snorts at Farin and shrugs, then says, "Fund, schmund, me good feller. Loot's loot... hell, I e'en thought 'twould be you'd be upset at that. Wuzzennit at that old elf-built forsaken fane that you, me an' Cez found that thing?"

The burly brute suppresses a shudder--- and not at the night's cold. "Y'all know I ain't no craven, but I ain't no liar neither. Any of y'all get a strange feelin' o' 'holy-friggen-hell' earlier?"

"Haunted?" Thick brows rise and the jutting jaw scowls. "Kord's blood, yer jestin'... Haunted, sez ye? Ye ain't jess usin' a metameffiphor? Cez, Brother Bow, y'all got yer mysticks ready, 'opefully?"

Nevertheless, he readies his ancestral axe, praying that its old power will see them through...

[Sallera]

There is no response to Tironius's knock on the door, nor as you creep inside the old tavern, the faint light from the windows only just illuminating the interior. Broken glass and wooden splinters crack under your boots, the ancient sawdust and straw covering the floor providing little in the way of cushioning. The howling sound from upstairs is clearer here, somehow, although still incoherent; the intermittent shrieks are wordless and pained, the cries of the lost.

Cecily calls a set of invisible armour forth, plates of force briefly glimmering in the dark as they are summoned, but she still moves toward the stairs determinedly, one hand raised. "We need to see who's up there. Even if it's not... someone alive, we might still be able to help them." As she passes the dilapidated bar, however, her head jerks to the side, and she holds up a hand. "What was... wait, it shouldn't be so cold over here. Careful - I think there's another ghost here."

The figure fades into view behind her - pale and transparent, no taller than Cecily herself, and perfectly positioned in her blind spot, a blade more solid than its body in hand. Its surprise almost avails it naught - Cecily is already whirling, a shield half-formed in her hands - but this is a man who knows his mark, and a hundred more before her, if his smooth reaction is anything to judge by. The blade changes hands almost faster than the eye can follow, angling upward past the unseen armour and slipping between her ribs with a flawless strike, the momentum of her turn carrying it through her heart.

"Eeh, we have a wise one here!" The ghost is a short and plain-looking man with patchy hair and a bulbous nose, his ethereal garments dusty and the sleeves stained; taking another look at the girl in front of him, he chuckles. "Soz, that were 'had,' weren't it? Nyeheh!" Extracting the sword and letting her slump to the ground, he holds the bloody point out toward you, a malicious grin on his face. "Care for a drink?"

Much obliged.

Combat joined, if you so wish, and the party's turn.

[Miraqariftsky]

Kholzug, cowering near the rear, stubbornly suppressing his fear of the unnatural, sees blood spurt and his friend fall. A thousand thoughts and memories and concerns and hopes and smiles coalesce...

...into a thudding, cold corpse.

His fear burns away in a blaze of wrath. He hefts the axe and bulls forward, slashing madly, roaring, "WE! WERE! READING!!!"

Ohhhhhh FRAK, no he dedent.

Raging Charging Flanking Power Attack, gaddemmet! [Feel free to subtract, chief, if I am mistaken.]
[roll0]
[roll1]

[TheFallenOne]

Kholzug's furious assault confirms he likely couldn't be convinced to retreat, so Tironius moves in to support himin the hope this is a foe they are able to overcome. He knows his staff would be useless against the spirit, so he goes at it with a kick and punch, again bringing a brief aura of fire forth to enhance his strikes.

[roll0] [roll1] [roll2] [roll3]
[roll4] [roll5] [roll6] [roll7]

will go invisible if attacked

well that looks promising

[Anderkent]

Farin

No time for regrets now, help her!
The cleric quickly moves beside the fallen mage, checking her vitals. If she's not dead, he casts a minor healing spell to stabilize her.

Otherwise, he turns to the ghost, unstringing his bow. Stepping around Cecily, he takes his place beside Tironius and Kholzug, swinging the shaft as a quarterstaff.


Spontaneously cast Cure Minor Wounds to stabilize Cecily if she's not dead.

Otherwise, attack the ghost in melee (quarterstaff +1)
Hit: [roll0]
Ethereal: [roll1]
Damage: [roll2]

[Sallera]

Kholzug's axe tears the ghost's chest apart, a fountain of ethereal blood spilling forth; Farin's staff splits open its face, another torrent gushing from its mouth. Each of Tironius's burning strikes drives it backward a step, and unlike the others, he can feel them connect with its manifested flesh. But the flow of blood does not stop, soon forming a pool around your feet. The spirit shudders, more liquid flowing forth than any mortal body could have held, and behind you, beside you, the fluid begins to shift and bubble, humanoid figures rising from the murk. They are of every age, race, and gender, and no onlooker could count their number. Not one is unmarred, the mark of blade, fist, or strangler's cord on every body. It seems you can feel the moment the sun touches the horizon outside; Cecily's killer jerks once and is still, frozen in a macabre mockery of death's embrace, and every shade's eye turns to look at you. In a chorus of whispers, the roar of the quiet multitude, each one offers the same words: "Do not drink from the ashen cup."

And then they are gone. The ghost is whole again. And he simply smiles, for he knows.

Each of you must make a DC14 Fort save. On failure, you take:
Kholzug: [roll0] Str damage, [roll1] Dex damage, and [roll2] Con damage
Tironius: [roll3] Str damage, [roll4] Dex damage, and [roll5] Con damage
Farin: [roll6] Str damage, [roll7] Dex damage, and [roll8] Con damage

And it's the party's turn again.

[Anderkent]

Farin

The elf shakes off ghost's hallucination, steps back, and twirls the bow-staff in front of him, vocalizing a prayer.

Beside him, a longbow made of pure force materializes, draws itself, and shoots an arrow shaped projectile into the ghost.


5ft step away from the ghost, casts Spiritual Weapon.

SW: [roll0] / [roll1]
EDIT: to hit is actually 1d20 + 6 , for a total of 18. Sorry!

[TheFallenOne]

Tironius focuses inward, steeling his mind and body against the malign power trying to drain him. Pierce the cloak of perception. See the truth, dispel the falsehoods. If these shapes are lies, they can not touch me when I deny them. If they are true, they will not scare me for reality is sacred. His resolve renewed, he presses the assault, flickering from view the same moment the shades do to drive his fist and knee into the ghostly killer.

[roll0] [roll1] [roll2]
[roll3] [roll4] [roll5]

[Miraqariftsky]

No time for fright, a friend is dead
No time for grief, a fiend is at hand
No time to hesitate, vengeance is meted
No time to rest, the axe shall send the fiend to the nameless land


No respite! Fire everything!

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]

Arrrrrgh! How the friggering hell useless are you?!

[Sallera]

The ghost recoils, obviously not expecting such determined opposition, and although Kholzug's axe fails to reach its drifting, spectral body, Tironius and Farin strike it soundly, and its form begins to waver.

"Not bad, hardhearts... but I'm already dead. And she isn't coming back." Grinning ear to ear, the spirit starts twitching, its voice becoming steadily fainter. "Which one of you will I kill next time? Think on it for a spell... and watch... your... backs!" With its final word, the ghost discorporates violently, a tide of (thankfully, once more illusory) blood washing over you and sinking into the ground.

Nice dice; enjoy the fruits of your vengeance. Namely, 1200xp each.

Tironius/Farin:The ghost's words match what you've heard about such spirits; each generally has an anchor of some sort in the material world (although such anchors are not always tangible) that allows it to return after a time even when destroyed.

[Anderkent]

Farin

"It's true that a ghost is likely to return unless we find out what anchors it to this world and dispose of it. We should keep an eye out - but if we fail, just preventing travellers from entering the inn could suffice. Perhaps barricade the doors from outside?

In any way we have a couple days until it returns.

Firstly though, we need to decide what to do now. I can preserve her body, but raising her is probably beyond what we can afford. Do you know of anyone who might help?"

[TheFallenOne]

Tironius just nods in confirmation at Farin's words, preferring to keep his silence for now so Kholzug has a moment to cope with the loss of his friend. He puts his hand on the elf's shoulder and gives him a meaningful look, urging him to do the same until their companion is ready.

[Miraqariftsky]

Still consumed with wrath, Kholzug levers himself to his feet with the axe. His gait shudders like a drunken man, drags like one gravely injured.

He grabs Farin by the shirtfront, shaking him and snarling into his face, "Wot da HELL yew sayin' Bow? Dead is dead. Deh good dead gets dehr PEACE. She needsa-be BURIED. BLESSED and BURIED. And AWAY from this accursed place. AND godsdamned WHAT do I hafta BREAK ta KEEL dat GIT fer good?!"

[TheFallenOne]

"It is hard to say. There is something binding his spirit to this world. An item, a person, an unfulfilled deed", Tironius explains slowly. "To banish him for good we need to find out what it is. The place he is bound to likely has some relevance to his past, so if we explore this building we might find clues to his anchor. Find the way to destroy the killer once and for all." He looks at Kholzug with a neutral expression, hoping his words would direct the man's anger and grief in the right direction.

[Anderkent]

Farin

One thing is certain - being thrown around by an enraged halforc is a mind clearing experience, even if not very pleasant. Ashamed, only now realizing how insensitive his words were, he speaks:

"I apologize, Kholzug. I wasn't thinking - or rather, I didn't want to think. It was too sudden. Please let me go and I'll explain myself."

He looks as Cecily's body as he continues.

"There are magics that can bring someone back to life, if their soul so wishes, and in my desire to deny what happened I assumed we could bring her back. That she was not really dead, not for ever. But, Kholzug, I'm sorry, as I look at her body now, I remember that some damage can never be healed, and sometimes the soul is severed from the body so rapidly that it cannot be brought back.

Forgive me my arrogance, for I meant no disrespect to either of you."

[TheFallenOne]

This time Tironius puts his hand on Kholzug's shoulder, though with a more forceful grip. "Leave him, Kholzug. She is gone, and we can't change it. As you say, the thing to do now is to give her a proper burial. Let us finish up here and then return to Hommlet with our fallen comrade."

[Miraqariftsky]

Still scowling, Kholzug puts the priest down and dusts him off. Snarling, all his acknowledgement a hunched grunt, he hefts his axe and stands at the tavern's door...

...then pauses and snorts.

He stands at the entrance, muscles bunched, undecided. Slowly he sags and utters a long sigh. "Purdy shore she wouldn't want me ta buy or take or steal all the kindling an' all the alchemi-fire an' wotever remains of 'er boom-stuff and RAZE this 'ole place 'til nuthin' remains but ash an' dust."

He slowly kneels and takes her body in one arm, leaning on his axe as if it were an old man's cane. His teeth chatter as he tries to suppress a moment of sobbing. Gritting his chompers, he mutters to the others in a voice more hollow than that of the ghost, "Lead."

[TheFallenOne]

"Just let me take a look around first. Farin, maybe you could clean her wound in the meantime."

[roll0]
[roll1]

[Sallera]

The inn is a slightly more welcoming place bereft of the murderous ghost's threatening presence, but the fading light still renders its dilapidated common room an unpleasant sight, and the wails from upstairs are no quieter. A search of the area behind the bar reveals a few smashed and empty casks and plenty of broken bottles; even in the dim light, however, a single wooden drinking cup catches your eye. Free of rot despite its apparent age and lack of varnish, it is carved of ashwood, if simply; it bears no marks save a splash of blood that also stains the floor nearby, and even that comes away with a brush of your thumb, leaving the vessel serviceable and pristine.

The source of the blood is not immediately apparent, but the stubborn tap on the sole intact cask proves to still be in working condition, spilling a watery ale. Something about the smell (not to mention its very presence in this thoroughly ransacked town) is odd, and cracking open the top of the cask confirms your suspicions; a poorly pickled human corpse floats in the liquid, likely at least a day or two dead before being stuffed into the cask and unevenly decomposed.

No further oddities surface downstairs, and the dark hallway upstairs holds few surprises - while it is difficult to see, each of the five open rooms leading off the main hall has been long since ransacked and stripped of anything even remotely interesting. The sixth door, however, is locked, and the pained shrieks that first drew you here are clearly audible from the other side.

[TheFallenOne]

"Do not drink from the ashen cup", Tironius recites the warning of the shades. He had thought it a metaphor and not literal, but certainly this is what they were talking about. Could this for some reason be the anchor or at least connected to it? But then, why should the shades help them unless they were not completely under the control of the one who summoned them. "On these other figures, did you notice each one bore the mark of violent death? I think they may have been his victims, and their warning was honest." He carefully wraps the cup in a piece of cloth and puts it in his backpack.

The corpse in the cask only makes things more confusing. Was the warning about the tainted wine, and not the cup itself? Figuring the identity of the man may be of relevance, Tironius lifts the head of the corpse and tries to make out of its features what he can given the decomposition.

Once on the upper floor, the shrieks from behind the door give him pause. "Another ghost it seems. It may be better to leave this one be. We already lost one of us today."

let's see if I know anything about a mass murderer or assassin who was active in Nulb. Given the number of Shades I'll discount less accomplished killers, which Nulb certainly had a fair number of.
[roll0]
[roll1]

[Sallera]

What little can be made of the man's features is less than enlightening, but it is easy enough to see that, at least, this is not the corpse of the ghost - too tall by a fair margin, and the wrong shape.

Tironius:The specific trials and travails of a hamlet such as this are beyond even your prodigious knowledge, but you do recall that even among all the casual cruelty and cheap lives of this place's history, the inn you stand in had a reputation as a dangerous place run by, and serving, dangerous people.

[Anderkent]

Farin

"If the warning is true, there's bound to be traces of magic on the cup, or its surroundings. Let me take a look.

As to the other ghost - if we leave for longer, the assassin ghost might return, and we will have to fight it again to get to the wailing creature. Thus we should either handle it now, or leave and not return unless well prepared - but right now it acts as a lure for passing travellers, gathering victims for the murderous ghost. I'd rather not leave it here, even if passers-by are rare."

He spends a short moment meditating, then focuses on the cup and general suroundings, looking for any magical auras.


cast Detect Magic

[Sallera]

Farin:The cup radiates a faint aura, but nothing else in the vicinity registers.

[Anderkent]

Farin

"There is an aura of magic around the cup, but it's not strong. I don't know if it's strong enough to anchor the ghost - but there's nothing else around here seems magical. It looks like the most likely object.

On the other hand, we might as well torch the entire building once we're done with this place. It's possible the anchor is something more subtle - in the fire it will hopefully be destroyed. Do you agree?"

[TheFallenOne]

"The anchor can also be an action. Giving this corpse a proper burial, returning an item to its rightful place. Burning the building down might banish the ghost for good, or render doing so impossible. It's a risk I'd rather not take.

We can deal with the moaning creature, but if it is another ghost it will be just as temporary. At this point I'd prefer returning to Hommlet. Bury Cecily, make inquiries into the history of this place and identify the cup. It should help us find out how to get rid of this one ghost at least."

[Miraqariftsky]

Kholzug nods blearily. "We do deh BLAHRDAHR, aye, un' dehn raze dis place. Uh favour, iffen y'all dun' mind? Y'all two do deh talky wen we gets dehr."
Seeing nothing, hearing nothing, he walks back out, axe dragging a long meandering gouge in the dirt behind them, comrade's corpse cradled in one arm.

[Sallera]

With a last knock on the inn's decayed door, unanswered by anything save the pained voice above, you leave the ghost's haunt and the surrounding hamlet behind. By the time the light fails in truth, Nulb is already hidden among the trees.

It is a journey of two more days back to Hommlet - two solemn days at a steady pace, undisturbed by bandits or denizens of the wild. The weather seems content to defy the sullen mood, remaining stubbornly bright with enough of a light breeze to banish the worst of the heat. Night falls on the second day before you reach Hommlet proper, but the plains gave way to farmland before the stars came out, and eager to have this part of your journey over with, you opt to continue another hour or two. And in such a manner you make your weary return to the Inn of the Welcome Wench, worn, rations nearly exhausted, and bearing the weight of more than sorrow.

[TheFallenOne]

With a tired knock on the door to the Welcome Wench, Tironius enters the inn and takes a seat with a relaxed sigh. He orders some wine and warm food and apart from that stays silent for several minutes, only speaking once the exhaustion from travel no longer bears on him this strongly. "We can visit the church at first light, and the priest might know more about the ghost's anchor." He's reluctant to say more for now; it would be best for Kholzug to handle the particulars of their companions funeral.

[Anderkent]

Farin

Before they enter the inn, Farin puts his hand on Kholzug's shoulder and stops him.

"I don't think we should enter. Better find the priest, even if we should to wake him. He'll know the place to lie her down, and for you to grieve in peace, if you wish so."

Seeing as Tironius has entered the inn already, he calls out:

"Tironius, could you ask the way to the priest's quarters?"

[Sallera]

No one is immediately in evidence at the church, but your calls bring Calmer from one of the side rooms, and he approaches with solemn mien. "Ill fortune follows you of late, I see," he says in a soft voice, touching his holy symbol as he reaches out a hand in brief blessing. "Have you come to have her laid to rest?"

[TheFallenOne]

"Yes, we have", Tironius says with the hint of a nod. "Kholzug here should know best what her wishes were for this regretable moment. After that, there is another matter where we could use the expertise and knowledge of your profession, but it will have to wait for now."

[Sallera]

"Understood. I will see that she is cared for." Calmer beckons Kholzug into a back room, and although one senses he would much rather be burning Nulb and all its ghosts to the ground, Kholzug remains to stand a final night's vigil for his fallen friend.

Tironius/Farin:After a much-needed meal and a welcome night's rest at the inn, midmorning finds you once more at the church to make your queries. Calmer is kneeling by the altar in meditation, but rises shortly after your knock, nodding in greeting. "Ah, there was something you wished to discuss, wasn't there? What might that be?"

Hrolf:The life of a caravan guard lends itself poorly to the acquisition of knowledge. Trudging along day after day, earning pay appropriate to your station only to spend most of what you've gained trying to fend off the rare deadly attack, leaves little time for study, less money for supplies, and scant confidence in your chosen profession when you finally fail.

Or taking another tack, one could say that it lends itself all too well to the acquisition of knowledge, if the 'knowledge' you are after is tall tales and campfire stories. Worst of all, some of them sounded extraordinarily convincing. A red dragon spotted flying east in haste over the Kron Hills, carrying a large black box; a mad hermit of great power living in the ghost town of Nulb, who in his caprice might bestow great secrets or terrible curses; god-touched bandits roaming northeastern Celene.

You might have attributed the conviction you felt to the speaker's natural charisma, if not for the fact that the last tale proved all too true on your way to the crossroads of Hommlet when the caravan walked into an ambush six days out of Enstad and the leader of the hobgoblins involved brought enough divine might to the engagement to overwhelm your own contribution, wielding his powers with an ease that defied your experience with clerics of various faiths. And after you escaped north, well, Hommlet was east of the Kron Hills, and you vaguely remembered the name of Nulb being associated with it...

Thankfully, dragons were not in evidence when your weary steps brought you to the town's pastoral environs, the newly-constructed keep overlooking Hommlet clearly untouched by any assault. Regretting the loss of your pay as your last coins went to paying for a night and a meal at the local inn, a fine establishment by the name of the Welcome Wench, the next day's inquiries brought you to a local man with a reputation as a sage of sorts, Todariche Nem. Hoping a fellow scholar would have useful information to share about your current interests, you find yourself at his doorstep, the man himself proving to be a slightly stout human in his early thirties with blotchy skin and a full beard.

"Greetings, my friend! Why do you seek Todariche Nem this morning? Are you troubled by riddles, faced with an impassable conundrum, or do you simply wish to broaden the horizons of your world?"

[Anderkent]

Farin

"To put it plain and simple, we found a haunted inn in the remains of Nulb. The ghost was an assassin of sorts, it seems, or at least proficient with a short blade and sneaky attacks.

We defeated it for now, but it will likely return unless the reason for their haunting is undone. Thus we're looking for background, anyone who might know who that man was, or a way to find out."

[TheFallenOne]

Tironius/Farin
The monk frowns; it seems his actions in at least one regard are outside his control. He files away a plan to test the particulars of this foreign influence, but for the moment it seems not hurtful. "We should have left soon as I realized what kind of place we entered, but alas, our curiosity got the better of us", he explains ruefully. "When the ghost was cut, his ethereal blood spilled forth in great volume and formed countless shades, each bearing the mark of violent death. I believe the ghost to have been their killer. They gave us a warning: 'Do not drink from the ashen cup.'" He unpacks the cup, removing the cloth with extreme care like it holds a delicate object he expects to break at the slightest touch. "We found this in the tavern, and Farin confirmed it has a magical aura. I don't know why, but it may well be the anchor binding this wretched soul to our world."

[J-H]

OOC

Can I get a link to the OOC thread, please? Forum search doesn't seem to work. It looks like blue is available, so I'll use it.

Hrolf

"And a good morning to you, sage Nem. It's the latter for me, although I must also bolster my supply of lucre." Hrolf pats his money pouch, which clanks and jingles not at all. "I've heard there's an odd hermit near here who may also be worth meeting... but rumors only. Magic, knowledge, money, maybe the hermit - I'll hear whatever you have to tell this morning."

[Sallera]

Tironius/Farin:Calmer frowns thoughtfully. "So Nulb is well and truly haunted. Most people think so, but there's often some doubt..." He examines the cup carefully, but it seems devoid of enlightening features. "I do not know either why such a vessel would bind a spirit to this world, if indeed it does. I would recommend that you speak to Todariche Nem; he knows much of local history, and has a respectable collection of books besides."

Taking a few gold coins from a pouch, Calmer hands them to you. "Give him these from me, and tell him the Church of St. Cuthbert appreciates his cooperation in this matter. If you intend to send such a murderous creature to his final judgement, then in this, at least, I can assist you. Head north from here, and turn left at the second crossroads, then right; Nem's house is the second on the right."

Hrolf:"Ah, have you no coin to pay for the knowledge you seek? Well, perhaps you can pay in kind, yes? Come in, come in, and we shall see what we can discover together."

Nem's sitting room is softly carpeted and well-furnished, with four comfortable armchairs arranged around a low table and bookshelves lining the back wall. He gestures you to one of the chairs, taking a seat himself. "Now, of odd hermits I have heard a tale or two, but before I delve into such memories, why not tell me what you know? If perchance you have new knowledge for me, then I need feel no guilt over reciprocating."

The OOC (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=262001) thread.

[TheFallenOne]

Tironius/Farin
Tironius nods in appreciation; the church taking a personal interest in this matter was certainly welcome. "Thank you. Would you know someone who could identify the nature of this cup's magic? This might yield further clues as well."

[J-H]

Hrolf

"Well, I was traveling with a caravan to help their guards.... but we ran into a powerful force of hobgoblins... about 40 of them, to 15 of us. Numbers, we can handle with magic, but their leader kept that from happening. He dispelled my Glitterdust, and countered my grease by raining fire on it and the guards waiting behind it. He had red armor - as did many of his troops - but his had a glowing red symbol on it. I wasn't able to make it out.

I ended up having to go invisible and sneak away. They tried to find me, but levitation leaves no footprints.

I'd heard rumors of this bandit, but thought it no more worthwhile than the tale of the hermit, or the report about a dragon flying across the Hills with a large box in its claws.... but where there's truth in one tale, there may be truth in another."

[Sallera]

Tironius/Farin:"Spugnoir can, but he's out of town at the moment." Calmer frowns slightly. "Late in his return, in fact; Renne's been getting worried. Zerosh Nubric might be able to as well, although I'm not sure; he sells various scrolls. If you go a little ways south from Nem's, you should see his sign."

[TheFallenOne]

Tironius/Farin
"I understand, and thank you for the assistance. I will visit Zerosh Nubric first; if he can identify the cup it might make it easier for Todariche Nem to figure out its relevance." With a bow, he departs to see the scroll merchant after carefully rewrapping the cup.

[Sallera]

Tironius/Farin:Zerosh Nubric's shop is easy to find, an elegantly carved sign depicting a pair of crossed scrolls marking the building. The spare furnishings of the shop's front room resemble the office of an accountant more than a wizard, with only a large desk, bearing a thick ledger, and a single padded chair occupying the floor, although the mahogany panelling on the walls is heavily polished and the entire room free of the slightest speck of dust.

No scrolls are immediately in evidence, but the scrollmaker himself emerges from the back room a few moments after you arrive; a thin elf of middle age in comfortable-looking dark blue robes, with the lines of a perpetual frown marking his face. "Ah... customers?" he says, sounding slightly bored. "Do you know what you need already?"

[TheFallenOne]

Tironius/Farin
"Yes, we do", Tironius confirms, arms folded inside the sleeves his robe. "I am Brother Tironius, and this is my companion Farin. Calmer sent us, there is an item that needs the nature of its magical aura and properties identified. Would you be able to provide this kind of service?"

[Sallera]

Tironius/Farin:"Ah, I suppose I do have that spell prepared today." Unlocking one of the desk drawers, Zerosh withdraws a wineglass and a half-full bottle, filling the glass almost to the brim. "I will require one hundred and fifteen crowns, and, of course, the item in question."

[Anderkent]

Farin

Tironius/Farin

"That's more than we have on hand, I believe. We'll keep your offer in mind though." - he eyes the wineglass - " I do hope you have not started casting it yet?"

"Tironius, maybe we should speak to Nem first, and hopefully can track down the story of Nulb's tavern with more mundane investigation. Though if that fails we may return here."

He pauses for a moment, considering the situation, and then he continues, glancing at the suspicious cup.

"It occurs to me that should the cup prove to be the ghost's anchor, keeping it in the city for a prolonged period may be dangerous. He might return here, instead of to the inn. In fact, it may already be risky - it has been a couple of days since our battle.

I think we should bury it a way from here - someplace we can find, but that is unlikely to be visited. Then if we need the cup, we can approach safely - I have a couple ideas in mind that would let me detect the ghost presence from a fairly distance, so that we're not caught off guard again.

It's probably safe enough to take the cup to Nem, since we already brought it to the city and nothing happened. I would like to take it away right afterwards, though."

[TheFallenOne]

Tironius/Farin
Tironius closes his eyes and sighs silently. "It indeed seems to exceed our current budget. However, this may be of vital importance." He unplucks a clear crystal from his staff, cold to the touch and covered in a faint layer of condensation and offers it for inspection. "This is worth several hundred crowns, I would offer it to you as insurance until we can pay you, plus another 10 crowns as interest. I'd also like to add that identifying this cup may help in forever banishing a vile and murderous ghost from our realm." He unwraps the cup again with delicate care.

[Sallera]

Tironius/Farin:Zerosh mutters a spell, examining the crystal's aura, then takes a seat with a sigh. "I am not in the habit of working on credit, but I can make an exception for someone who knows how business works. You will have three months to deliver the coin. Your name?" Opening the ledger, he withdraws quill and inkpot and writes the terms of the loan in a neat hand before depositing the crystal into one locked drawer and withdrawing a pearl from another - the desk seems to have at least twenty or so, of various sizes.

Dropping the pearl into the glass, where it slowly begins to dissolve as he stirs the wine with a feather, he waves a hand and calls "Chairs," and the door to the back room silently opens, a pair of simple chairs floating out one by one and setting themselves down by one wall. "This will take some time, so give me the item and sit."

'Some time' turns out to be a good hour, but finally the glass is emptied and Zerosh writes a few more lines in the ledger before handing the cup back to you. "The cup will purify any liquid placed in it. It appears to have some limitations; it will not affect magical liquids such as potions or elixirs, and a sufficiently concentrated poison will not be removed, but aside from that, the liquid placed within will become safe to drink. Although some might call it a poison, there is a specific exception for alcohol built in to the enchantment, and its strength will not be affected, although it will still be otherwise cleansed of dangerous contaminants."

[Sallera]

Hrolf:"Ah, you have run afoul of the same band that has been our nemesis of late - although I think you may have miscounted a little in your haste. If indeed they have grown to forty, they are become a greater threat than before." Nem strokes his beard, seemingly a somewhat affected gesture. "They have not bothered us here in town for some time - Elmo's militia taught them better than that - but they continue to raid the roads, as you have discovered."

"The hermit, yes, of such a person I have heard a tale. Two, in fact, concerning separate individuals. One is said to reside in Nulb, the haunted village by the ruined temple; the man who claimed to have met him described him as being of hideous visage, his face twisted and torn. Apparently he was driven away by the approach of an undead creature of some sort before he could discern more, but the hermit seemed to live there unmolested. The other I am less certain in the authenticity of, but there is said to be a a druid of dwarven heritage in the Kron Hills who shuns all company, and flees at the sight of others."

Smiling, Nem looks to you expectantly. "Now, tell me more of this dragon! It is a new tale to me, and I would gauge it's likelihood. What details did you hear?"

[J-H]

Hrolf

"Not much else, just that it was a red dragon with a black box. The size of such always grows in the telling, so I've no idea how large the dragon or the box were."

[TheFallenOne]

Tironius/Farin
"Tironius, of the church of Delleb", the monk answers when Zerosh does the paperwork. He wonders for a moment whether the chairs themselves are enchanted or the elf used a spell. Either way, using magic on such a simple commodity seems wasteful to him.

"You may be right. It didn't occur to me the ghost may be bound to an item instead of a place and thus reform wherever we take the cup", he confirms, appreciative of Farin's perceptiveness. "I would see what the two men Calmer recommended to us have to say on the matter, and for that we need the cup on hand. If the result is inconclusive, I agree to your proposed course of action."

When the hour is up, he takes in the result without visible reaction. "I see. So the magical effect is solely beneficial; that gives the warning not to drink from it a different context. Thank you for the help, we will pay you as soon as possible. Farin, ready to visit our next destination?"

[Sallera]

Hrolf:"A red dragon, in this clime?" Todariche rises from his seat, pulling a volume from one of the bookshelves and flipping through it for a few minutes. "Ah, as I thought, that seems unlikely. Blue or green, perhaps, although even the former would need good reason for visiting the area. However, the red is the most storied of the breeds, and in rumour, an uncertain sight may change with the telling.... Well, there are a few ruins hereabouts a beast might take for a lair, were it not too proud. The old temple, two days to the northeast, although that houses our mutual foes the hobgoblins; Nulb itself, nearby; the moathouse, the better part of a day to the east. Be your dragon a true tale, perhaps it might be found in one of those."

A knock at the door heralds another visitor, and Nem returns the volume to the shelf before answering. A slightly stout man in his early thirties, his blotchy skin and full beard lend a vaguely comical aspect to his appearance, at odds with his chosen profession. "Greetings! What can Todariche Nem do for you today? Be it riddles unsolved, ancient knowledge thought lost, or insight into the mysteries of the world, come in, and lend to me your thoughts. I have another guest today, but as he is not paying for his time, he will not mind."

[TheFallenOne]

"Greetings, Todariche Nem. I believe what we seek qualifies as all three of these." The monk gives a short bow. "Brother Tironius, of Holy Othmar's monastery. We do intend to pay for our time. This coin was provided by Calmer of St. Cuthbert's church, who has a personal interest in our endeavour, and we will supply more when the need arises." He passes on the crowns and enters.

"I will try to provide an accurate account of what happened and leave our interpretations for the end, for they may well be false. We had entered the ruins of Nulb, unaware of the nature of this place until I realized where we are. When examining strange sounds from a tavern, one of our group was murdered by a ghost. The shape of the man was plain and of short build, the hair patchy, nose bulbous and the clothes stained. His fatal surprise attack was expertly executed." He pauses for a short moment at this point, carrying on with level voice when the short surge of emotion he felt faded away. "When cut, ethereal blood spilled forth from his body in amounts his mortal flesh couldn't have had. It formed shapes, more than we could count, all manner of races, ages and gender present. They spoke in unison 'Do not drink from the ashen cup' before disappearing. Each of them carried the marks of a violent death."
For the third time, he unwraps the cup they had found. "After defeating the ghost we found this behind the bar; it had a small splash of blood on it, presumably from the corpse we found in the sole intact cask of wine. Since then, we learned the cup is enchanted to purify any drink put into it of poison, save for alcohol."

The tale concluded, he exhales audibly. "Now the interpretation part. I believe the ghost was the killer of the shades we saw, and their warning about the cup was honest. We wish to unravel what the anchor of this ghost is so we can banish it forever. If you can determine who a man with the looks described and presumably the reputation of a skilled assassin is it might prove helpful."

[Anderkent]

Farin

The elf listens to his comrades tale attentively. It seems that, due to hurry and unease, the party hasn't discussed their interpretations of the encounter. To find Tironius express beliefs similar to Farin's is relieving. He nods, and speaks up once the monk is done.

"Greetings. I'm Farin, a cleric of Gilmadrith. A couple extra details that my friend has omitted, or forgotten. The shrieks that lured us to the inn persisted even after the ghost was defeated, coming from a closed room on the first floor. We did not investigate.

In the inn we also found a cask of ale, in which a body of a man was submerged. It was hard to judge how old the body was - the alcohol seems to have preserved it.

I mostly agree with the presented interpretation. Our goal is to find out how to banish the ghost permanently - and any suggestions you may provide about the ghosts identity or his binding to Nulb and its tavern will be much appreciated."

[Sallera]

"Hm, hm, a dire situation indeed. But you have given me much to work with; I daresay we will find your answers yet." Pocketing the coin, Nem waves you to comfortable chairs around a low table, one of which is already occupied by a dark-skinned middle-aged dwarf in sturdy traveller's clothes, as he begins scanning his bookshelves.

"Hrm, we will focus on that description, first. I have a tome that mentions some of the notables of Nulb's prime around here somewhere, if I can only remember which one it was..." After scanning the contents of a few books, he eventually finds a section he reads intently. "Wat. A most unremarkable name, but the author describes him as a human of gnomelike mien and sinister regard. He was the bartender at the hamlet's sole tavern, and common opinion of the time blamed him for several murders, though it seems no one had any proof. I do believe this may be our ghost."

After reading a few pages further, he puts the book away. "Unfortunately, it says nothing of the ashen cup, and I can but speculate how a tool of purification might have been used in murder. Perhaps he offered such purified drinks to those he wished to gain the trust of? I know not. But I do not see such an item holding the ghost in this world."

Taking a seat in the remaining chair, he leans back, stroking his beard. "There are three main categories one might divide the anchors of spirits into. First are those spirits who remain behind to protect something they valued in life. I think we can safely assume Wat is not one of those; such a cruel person would have valued little save his own skin. Secondly, we have the ghosts who seek revenge on their killers. This is certainly a possibility; however, would such a skilled killer have succumbed to another? It may be so, but he could not be poisoned with such a chalice in his possession, and a murderer would best know a murderer's tricks. I think it more likely he succumbed to base misfortune in the end. Lastly are the shades who become so identified with a location that they make its story their own, and their will to continue merges with the legend of their abode to anchor them to this world. Wat was not famous, but dark whispers and unspoken fears can create as much of a tale as glorious deeds. If this is the case, then the very tavern itself could be the anchor you seek."

[TheFallenOne]

The monk greets the dwarf with a short nod upon entering and listens attentively to Nem's explanations, surveying the bookcollection with curious eyes while he is still searching for the proper volume.
"Can there be no ghost bound by an unfulfilled task?" Tironius asks. "That is the reason we neglected to burn down the tavern upon departure. Perhaps the body we found must be buried, or an item returned to its rightful place. I find that unlikely now we know more about who the ghost was in life, but then the chance stayed my hand.

And I can think of two ways this kind of cup could have been an instrument of murder. An unlikely option is a magical poison. More likely, he could have drunk from it himself. If he shares a poisoned bottle with someone they are wont to trust its content when he tastes from it as well, but his cup would remove the poison while they still succumb to it.
But then, the shades we saw carried visible marks of their demise, from blade or string or fist. It is true the eye is drawn to such sights and we may have missed unmarred bodies in their short appearance though. And either way, I can't make sense of the warning yet. Unless there is a hidden curse on the cup, why should one not drink from it?"

[Sallera]

"Hm, such spirits I would call part of the first category, but you are right, that was poorly worded. Certainly, they do exist."

"It is possible that the cup itself was harmless, and to drink from it merely presaged one's death. Some ritual of the killer, or a method, as we speculated, to gain trust. A curse, on the other hand... well, who can say? The only way to find out would be to drink from it, I suppose."

[J-H]

Hrolf rises from his seat and walks over to look at the cup.

"If there's an actual curse on it, that's magic. I may be able to see if it's there, if it exists.... if you don't mind?"


Casting Detect Magic
Spellcraft checks for aura identification
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]

[Miraqariftsky]

The only words since then that Kholzug had spoken
Were thanks to Brother Calmer, farewell to Cecily
Disheveled and ragged, much wrath still to be bled
He loiters outside, leaning on the doorframe, utters
A whispered and affectionate curse as Lunch
Clambers to the scarred halforc's ear
Allaying naught of his fear

[Sallera]

Nem shakes his head as Hrolf examines the cup. "A true curse cannot be detected with such simple magic, I fear. They are rare, but I have read that many of the ones that do exist stem from slight errors in the enchantment, and normal analysis reveals only the intended effect."

Only one Spellcraft check per casting of Detect Magic, but you get an aura of faint Transmutation.

[J-H]

"That depends on the nature of the curse...but it was worth a try.

Hmm...

What was the body in the wine like? Could it have been the ghost's body, or one of the victims?"

Hrolf fingers his beard as he thinks, moving a few steps one way and then the other.

"You may need to go back to look for clues, and to see if the shrieking you described was related to the ghost. I'm a bit light on supplies, but would be happy to go with you. I'm newly arrived here myself, and was just looking for something worthwhile to do."

[TheFallenOne]

"I believe introductions are in order first. I am Brother Tironius, of Delleb's faithful. You've met Farin, and we also travel with a warrior called Kholzug." He inclines his head lightly when introducing himself. "I had the same thought, that laying the body to rest might do likewise for the ghost, but examination proved it can't have been the same person. While the features of the face weren't recognizable anymore, the size and shape were markedly different. I do believe destroying either the cup or tavern should yield the desired result. Would there be a way to learn of a curse on the cup magical identification failed to uncover?"

[Sallera]

Nem rubs his hands together in satisfaction. "Excellent. Sir Dwarf, you shall accompany these fine warriors in their quest, and by doing so pay for the information I have given you. They are on the Church's business, and I have been asked to make that mine as well, so by helping them you help me."

"Now, I have heard it said that the most powerful wizards sometimes possess a spell that allows them to read the flows of artifice as easily as you or I would read a children's book. If you truly suspect the cup to be cursed, then perhaps seeking one out would be worthwhile, but it would be a long journey, and to purchase the attentions of such worthies a most expensive undertaking."

[J-H]

"I take it there are none around here? Travel back to the place where this was found might well be faster....and long-distance travel is rather unsafe, at the moment."

[Sallera]

"No, I do not believe even Burne himself possesses such puissance. I mention the possibility merely for the sake of education."

[TheFallenOne]

"In case it wasn't clear, 'Sir Dwarf', when I talked about introductions that was meant to inquire about your name. While we appreciate any offer of help, we can hardly accept the company of someone we can't even properly adress."

[J-H]

"Ah, sorry. My name is Hrolf. I'm a wizard - specifically, a transmuter - looking to expand my knowledge. I was part of a caravan guard that got routed by a band of hobgoblins led by a powerful cleric a couple of days ago. I was just telling this gentleman about it shortly before you arrived.

I don't practice Evocation magic... there are many people talented at hitting things or blowing them up. With the caravan guards, my job was to support them by making them stronger or disabling the opposition. As long as there are doughty fighters around" (he looks speculatively at the group) "it works well enough."

[TheFallenOne]

"How interesting. We were investigating another crime, and now it seems confirmed they are wont to indulge in banditry." The monk contemplates this information for some moments, brow furrowed. "Have you talked to Elmo yet? He is the commander of the local militia and would surely be interested in hearing what you have to say. As it happes, we have to talk to him too to inform him of our findings in that other matter I mentioned."

[J-H]

"No, I haven't heard of this Elmo. If you're going to him, I'd like to come with you."

[TheFallenOne]

"Excellent. We can inquire at the local inn and tavern about his whereabouts. The other companion I mentioned should show up later for lunch as well. I'd ask you to be considerate though, we just lost one of ours, and he was closest to her."

[Sallera]

The inn is as welcoming as ever; Vesta serves a lunch of boiled crayfish and potatoes, and after inquiring about Cecily's absence, pours a glass of firewine for each of you in her memory. Elmo, it seems, is currently at the keep speaking with Rufus, but should be found at the barracks some time after noon.

[Anderkent]

Farin

There is little conversation as they dine, moods being rather suppressed. Farin breaks the silence after a while.

"It seems clear that destroying the inn seems our best bet to get rid of the ghost. If this cup was the anchor, the ghost would have manifested already, I believe. I'll still check for its presence every evening.

But what should we do after that is done? It appears there are two options - we can continue chasing the wine merchant's murderers, or investigate the caravan raid Hrolf told us about. We've made some progress on the former, but stopping the banditry may be more urgent.

I guess Elmo would be a good person to ask about the priorities.

Hrolf, can you tell us anything more about the raid? Do you know if they took prisoners, or was everyone killed?"

[J-H]

Hrolf leans back in his chair and sighs.

"I didn't see anyone left alive, but I wasn't going to stay around and look for long, at those odds. I don't see bandits having much use for caravan guards, not like they would for a magic-user or an artisan, or a noble who could be ransomed."

[TheFallenOne]

"The cup may have some value, but I am loathe to risk anything for it or have anyone drink from it. We can just destroy it right away. At best it banishes the ghost, at worst we lost a minor magic item. The odds are worth it and if it fails we can burn the tavern down. I am though not sure whether we should do this from the outside or investigate these moans upstairs first. Doing so would mean we face the ghost a second time, and potentially another one after."
He accepts the firewine with a nod, sipping it slowly. "What makes our task easier is that both acts of banditry lead to the hobgoblins, but I think we still should prioritize the ghost in Nulb. Both for the sake of our fallen comrade and Kholzug's feelings."

[Miraqariftsky]

The scarred halforc takes the firewine
Nods his thanks and quaffs the damned lot
Still he leans upon his axe, still
He glares, barely breathing, as if
He himself a dead man walking
Kholzug growls, "Jess' point me where..."

[J-H]

"The tavern it is, then, yes?

I've had quite enough of hobgoblins for the week, month, and year... and there are not nearly enough of us to face them in open combat.

Tell me, how did all of you", Hrolf makes a circular motion with his index finger to indicate the group, "meet and end up at the tavern anyway?"

[Anderkent]

Farin

"Starting with the cup feels wasteful to me, Tironius, but if you prefer it strongly I will not argue.

I don't much fancy entering the tavern again. Might as well set it alight from distance."

Once done with the business, Farin nods to the dwarf.

"It's not much of a tale, I'm afraid. We were in a city close-by, running out of money, when an acquaintance of Tironius offered a simple job. We were to deliver some crates of wine to here, actually, as the usual merchant disappeared before reaching the inn.

On the way we found the poor fellows body, and two owlbears feasting on his carts contents. We brought his remains here, for a proper burial, and decided to follow up on the crime - the scene suggested a robbery gone wrong, not an attack by the beasts.

Following a horse trail from the scene we eventually wound up in Nulb, where we found out the wine was stolen by a man called Eisn, and partially used to pay for healing one of his men. The healer being Lerath, the man I mentioned before.

We hoped to spend the night in Nulb, and the tavern caught our attention. We were careless, surely, with tragic consequences. Cecily has paid the price for it.



I'll get some more drinks. Anything for you?"

After taking the requests, he goes over to the counter and makes the order. He will return shortly, with a drink for everyone who wanted one.

[TheFallenOne]

"Actually, we planned to leave as soon as the place was identified as Nulb; I knew the tales of it's haunting, and now we know them to be true. It is curiosity that got us, and the price was high." He declines another drink, still sipping from the strong firewine. "I can't in good conscience use the cup or give it to someone else. The warning of the shades seemed too honest to me, and the monetary loss of destroying it should be bearable. Burning the tavern from outside seems prudent, but we have to watch out for whatever we heard moan upstairs. Removing the confines of the building might set it free."

[J-H]

"Well, I'm onboard with burning it." Hrolf downs some ale. "I don't know if I've mentioned it yet, but I am a transmuter and scholar, not an evoker or warmage. I can't chuck a ball of fire through the window from a distance... we'll have to do this the regular way, with oil and a torch."

[TheFallenOne]

"That should suffice, if indeed the ghost is unable to leave the confines of the building. And I'm always pleased to have another disciple of knowledge in our ranks. Which fields do you study?"

[Sallera]

The conversation slowly dies down, and as the sun begins falling from the zenith, you go in search of Elmo. One of the militiamen outside the barracks takes you inside once you introduce yourselves, where you find the weathered captain leaning over a table, perusing a few documents. Looking up, he sets the pages aside for the moment, nodding in greeting. "Ah, hello again. How fared your journey?"

[Anderkent]

Farin

After exchanging nods, Farin reports their progress:


"We know the perpetrator's name now, but we've paid a price. Cecily's no longer with us.

We followed the trail to Nulb, and found out from a mutilated man called Lerath that the merchant was killed by someone called Eisn, and a group of his subordinates. Or at least he had the wine. They camp in the temple.

That's when we made a mistake of curiosity - lured by shrieks from a room in an abandoned tavern, we entered to investigate. Before we got close to the room Cecily fell to an attack from a ghost that we failed to notice in time.

Since then, we focused on destroying the ghost completely. It was defeated once in the tavern, but is likely to return. Currently our best bet seems to destroy the tavern and a magic cup we found within."


He takes a pause, turning over to his companions to fill in any details the elf might have missed.

[J-H]

From the back of the small group, Hrolf clears his throat in a low rumble. "I had a run-in with some hobgoblin bandits, and got away with little besides what's on my person. I've agreed to help with this problem, and though I'm a wizard I don't have a way to destroy the tavern. I think we need to find some digging compounds or a cask or two of oil."


Digging compound = mining explosive. Guns/explosives are not evident, but the dwarves probably have something more effective than steel tools for tunnelling through rock. Not saying there'll be any within a 200 mile radius of us...