The Red Hand of Doom (3.5)

[ShedShadow]

Spoiler: Stats Show Aidan Blackbow (Adinae - Forgotten whisper) Male LE Drow (Dark Elf) Ranger, Level 5, Init 5, HP 28/28, Speed 30 AC 19, Touch 15, Flat-footed 14, Fort 1, Ref 9, Will 5, Base Attack Bonus 5 Elvencraft, Dragonbone +1 Composite (2) Longbow (60) +11 (+9/+9 rapid) (1d8 + 3, x3) Throwing axe x2 + 10 (1d6 +1, x2) Short Sword +7 (1d6+2, 19-20/x2) Mithril chain shirt, Heavy wooden Shield (not equipped) (+4 Armor, +5 Dex) Abilities Str 14, Dex 20, Con 11, Int 12, Wis 15, Cha 11 Condition None Spoiler: Rolls Show

After obediently getting the animals together at the ringmaster's command, though he would have done so either way, Aidan helps out with getting the bodies sorted and following the tracks. The track to the farmhouse was plain enough, and what had occurred there was plain as well. The bodies were fresh enough to have been made earlier this morning.

After the deafness wears off from the thunderstone in the expected time, Aidan having experience with them since he had arrows that did a similar thing, he steps to Alastor. "Alastor, we need to have a talk. I've been thinking about what we encountered here, and it does not bode well." Aidan sighs, and Alastor notes that Aidan isn't swearing, indicating that Aidan is dead serious about this. "The way this group was set up does not speak of an opportune encounter, at least for us. I don't know about the merchant's group, but by the way they were peppered with arrows and their weapons bear no blood, their fate was similar to ours. We just happened to have a greater number and skilled fighters. It looks like this was a trap, a funnel deliberately set up. The farmhouse is out of sight, and the trees provide perfect cover for an ambush. If they were bandits, which I doubt, they were highly organized." He looks to where the hobgoblin cleric lies. "And you heard the priest shouting. That was some serious religious zeal, and from the archers too, the way they took their own life like that. I cannot fathom that this was just a roving band of zealots. And then look at this." Aidan is holding one of the goblin composite bows in his hand. "This bow is not the make of some hare-brained idiot with a piece of wood and string. It was made by a skilled bowmaker, expertly crafted to the strength of each of its wielders. And the same goes for some of the weapons and armor we found. Where did they get it?" By now he is pacing around.

"So, we have a band of overzealous hobgoblins on the loose, armed to the teeth and looking for blood? Not quite. From my reading of the maps we bought we are close to the town we were headed for. If they purposefully camped here, which I believe they did, then they did so hoping to make as many casualties as possible, catching the travelers to and from town." He shakes his head, still pacing. "They were trying to make the townsfolk afraid, or at least cut off from this side of the world. That doesn't sound like roving bandits, religious or no. That sounds like the beginning of siege tactics." He stops in his tracks, looking intently at the ringmaster. "It sounds like the rumblings of a war."

[Deadguy]

Aerilaya Ralothyra Sheet Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2) Player: Deadguy

The silence had faded. The darkness had not. Aerilaya stayed close to the caravan animals as the others moved about to gather the items from the fallen enemies. She gave grateful bows to those providing her with a measure of healing.

As Arendi mused over the findings and the reason for the attack, she interjected. "The surest way to create a reaction in a town is to hamper trade. If they were hoping to lure out the garrison from inside the city walls, harassing the merchant roads would put pressure on the city rulers to take some manner of action to protect the commodities. Also, weakening the economy and restricting information flow from nearby cities is of great importance when preparing a siege."

Spoiler: OOC: Checks

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Active Effects
Hunter's Sense (scent)

[danielxcutter]

"Okay that makes sense, but again why Tiamat?" asked the death priest. "I thought she's mostly popular in Unther over in the east? You don't get much farther from here without being in the ass end of Anauroch or something."

He sighed. "Well, don't suppose much good could come from sitting on our own asses. Can we fit the bodies on the cart? Not the soldiers, obviously, but I'm not particularly keen on leaving the victims out here with nobody to find them."

[Aracor]

We should probably bring at least one hobgoblin back as well. If Drellin's Ferry isn't aware of what's going on, they need to be. Now. The bodies will help as evidence. Perhaps the cleric with the holy symbol?

But I agree - we should leave soon. I doubt there is another force close enough to harass us this close to the town, but again - they need to be made aware of what's happening. Too bad the news the circus brings is less cheerful than it was five minutes ago.

I'd also suggest that everyone who doesn't have one take a healing potion just in case.

[danielxcutter]

Arendi shrugged. "Well, six of us and twenty-two potions... I can cast healing spells and I think Alastor can too, so maybe we can take two and the rest three? Just off the top of my head."

He turned to the ringmaster. "Ultimately this is your show, isn't it? You're a performer, not a tactician, but do you have any suggestions?"

[A.A.King]

Spoiler: ooc

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I figured that in the time we were studying/collecting the gear these guys had, Alastor would be trying to figure out the value of these things. He's in charge of the circus's finances after all. He'll have taken out his magnifying class from his luggage on the camels and while doing so also restocked his supply of alchemist fire (going from 1 on hand/17 on camels to 3 on hand/15 on camels)

Appraise: (1d20+12)[25]. (Though I assume most of these things just have the buy the book price, I just wanted the opportunity to roll a dice )

Alastor had just finished studying the collection of gear and items with his magnifying class when Aidan speaks up and voices his concern. Aerilaya also seemed to agree with his idea.

"It's true that I can't imagine anyone setting up an elaborate ambush just to prevent the circus from coming to town but it's also hard to imagine that we just stumbled into a warzone without realizing it. Worse still to imagine that the towns and cities we were planning to visit also don't realise it."

"Now, I would ask if anyone objected to us continuing down this road, if you guys are right then this tour has become a lot more dangerous that we initially thought, but I don't think we have much of a choice here. You guys finally have your hearing back but whatever that priest did to Aerilaya still hasn't gone away. Right now our original destination is by far the closest village and therefor our best chance of curing her affiliations by quite a margin. If it's true that these people are about to be attacked without them even knowing it then it would be wrong to not try and warn them"

"This does mean that we have to be more vigilant than we were before, and it certainly means that we have to make haste. Now, most of the stuff we found is too big for me to use anyway and while it is valuable I don't believe it would hold great value to anyone of you. Still, we should certainly take it with us to sell, the profits will help greatly with paying for our travels and more. So I suggest grabbing what you think is useful, loading the rest on the camels and then resuming our journey while I check the map to see how long it will take us to actually reach the next town."

He takes out his map and starts looking at it, though first he quickly turns his attention to one of the trees

"OH AND LIBBY, DON'T THINK I DIDN'T SEE YOU FLY UP THERE WHEN THE ARROWS CAME FLYING DOWN. GET YOUR WINGS BACK HERE BEFORE WE LEAVE YOU BEHIND!"

[danielxcutter]

"We probably should take one of the bodies with us for proof, though." Arendi mused. "Can we improvise some kind of sled or something?"

[Dimers]

"Why the hells were they fighting in Tiamat's name, though? Arendi asked the dragon shaman.

Diana slowly shook her head, pondering. Eventually she responded, "I just can't imagine. She's no savior or benefactor; anyone she helps, she expects to get more from in return. It makes no sense. None at all."

From the pile of the hobgoblins' possessions, Diana retrieved the five-claw star. "I don't care about the rest of that mess, but this, this needs to be destroyed, like everything corrupted by that foul goddess's touch. Vokon, can I borrow your hammer? -- one of the little ones, I mean."

[danielxcutter]

"I'm not going to interfere with this kind of religious conflict, but don't we need that for proof?" asked Arendi. "Of course, there's always the option of smashing it after that... and also maybe we should make sure it's not trapped or something. If they're willing to commit suicide to spite us, I can imagine them setting some kind of glyph spell as a last middle finger to their killers."

[ShedShadow]

Spoiler: Stats Show Aidan Blackbow (Adinae - Forgotten whisper) Male LE Drow (Dark Elf) Ranger, Level 5, Init 5, HP 28/28, Speed 30 AC 19, Touch 15, Flat-footed 14, Fort 1, Ref 9, Will 5, Base Attack Bonus 5 Elvencraft, Dragonbone +1 Composite (2) Longbow (60) +11 (+9/+9 rapid) (1d8 + 3, x3) Throwing axe x2 + 10 (1d6 +1, x2) Short Sword +7 (1d6+2, 19-20/x2) Mithril chain shirt, Heavy wooden Shield (not equipped) (+4 Armor, +5 Dex) Abilities Str 14, Dex 20, Con 11, Int 12, Wis 15, Cha 11 Condition None Spoiler: Rolls Show

Aidan nodded at the ringmaster's query. "More people means more safety. And I think we might be able to find a cure of some kind for Aerilaya there, or at least some kind of local herbal medicine that might be worth a shot if there's no priest capable of doing so. After that we can figure what to do next."

From the pile of the hobgoblins' possessions, Diana retrieved the five-claw star. "I don't care about the rest of that mess, but this, this needs to be destroyed, like everything corrupted by that foul goddess's touch. Vokon, can I borrow your hammer? -- one of the little ones, I mean."

Arendi answered her. "I'm not going to interfere with this kind of religious conflict, but don't we need that for proof?" asked Arendi. "Of course, there's always the option of smashing it after that... and also maybe we should make sure it's not trapped or something. If they're willing to commit suicide to spite us, I can imagine them setting some kind of glyph spell as a last middle finger to their killers." Aidan nodded in agreement. "Yes, we do need that for proof. You can destroy it afterward." Walking towards the wood, he waves to Arendi. "Come, I'm sure we can make a sled of some kind from a couple of tree branches and some rope.."

[Saintheart]

Drellin’s Ferry, Channath Vale
Six bells, the Sixth of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

The rest of the afternoon was spent in sweat. First, a good hour or more cutting enough wood and lashing it together to make a sort of sledge; then, bringing the bodies of the hobgoblin dual-wielder and the cleric to the sledge, to be drawn behind the mules. Then, having finished their work and gathered all they cared to recover from this place, back to the trail. The road turned back northeast, and the afternoon heat grew as the companions trudged on up the dusty road, dragging their captured gear behind them.

The sun slid into the west, throwing purple and red into the sky. Crickets celebrated noisily as the day’s heat receded. The road finally descended to the southern side of a small town built mostly on the eastern bank of the Talar River - broad and sluggish. Six old stone pylons jutted from the water, marking the spot where a bridge once stood, but the span itself was long gone. Instead, a couple of long thick ropes hung across the river, each secured to a flat-bottomed ferryboat.

Sienna fields and orchards of orange trees surrounded the town. Alastor had seen enough such places in his travels to make an educated guess at the town’s size: a thousand people or so all up, a settlement proportional to what the fields around the town could sustain -- in its way a human place balanced against the bounty of Silvanus, Chauntea, Malar, and the other gods of nature.

Six short clangs echoed softly across the afternoon air – someone keeping time, signalling the sixth hour after noon. There was no bell tower visible from here; the only building more than twenty feet high was a small stone tower visible near the centre of town. Arendi's experiences suggested that to be the town armoury. The place had an unashamedly military look to it, exuding an atmosphere of blunt purpose. There were a couple of other solid-looking structures dotted about the townsite. Even at this distance they were recognisable as dwarf make: older, buttressed, as distinct against the town's wooden buildings as stone against sand.

A group of armed townsfolk stood guard at a makeshift checkpoint in the road, watching the companions with an assortment of expressions ranging from curiosity to wariness to puzzlement. Three were in poor-looking leather armour. The last was in more complex armour: a textile kavadion beneath a few other formidable bronze-looking pieces of plate.

“Halt and state your business,” said this last one.

Spoiler: A Portrait

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Tall, with a brown beard and long moustache, he looked competent, mainly due to the obvious mediocrity of his companions. The three in leather were likely just farmers, there for numbers more than anything else. The guardsman in real armour was professional enough to not let his insecurity show; indeed, he let no particular emotion show other than mild interest. But no one could mistake the hand laid close to the handle of his great scimitar, or the steady look that rested on Aidan Blackbow in particular.

Spoiler: The Chronicler's Marginalia

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Here's the town map:



Key:

Red dot: you are here
1 - Checkpoints
2 - The Green
3 – Town Speaker’s Home
4 – The Green Apple Inn
5 – Morlin’s Smithy
6 – Shrine of Lathander
7 – House of Sertieren the Wise
8 – Old Toll House
9 – Town Armory
10 – The Old Bridge Inn
11 – Jarrett’s Sundries
12 – Delora’s Livery Stable
13 – Iormel’s Warehouse
14 – The Ferry
15 – The Ruins of the Dwarfbridge
16 – Gausler’s Brewhouse
17 – Jendar’s Warehouse
18 – Sterrel’s Provisioning
19 – Grove of the Old Ones

Thought this was the simplest way to help you guys orient yourselves - if you need short clarifications of these locations let me know, though fuller descriptions will follow as you explore as you see fit.

Location 9 is the small stone tower referred to
Location 14 is the Ferry with two long ropes laid across the river.
Locations 5, 8, and 15 are recognisable as dwarf-built.

The Complication Dice stands at 3 of 6.

[danielxcutter]

Arendi went over to the ringmaster and said lowly, "So, you going to go with the theatrics this time or get straight to business considering we almost died back there?"

[A.A.King]

"Our businesses, good sir?" Alastor said with a smile, clearly ignoring Arendi whispering in his ear "our businesses is ENTERTAINMENT!!! "

"Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Alastor and I am in charge of the Great Bremer Circus" Alastor said and he took an extravagant bow "and behind me stand my troupe, my artists, my performers." He then lead into the guardsman a little and whispered
"except for the camels, they aren't very artistic but I don't have it in my heart to tell them that." He then pulled back again and continued

"We travel from town to town to offer relief from the day to day grind in the form of great and exciting shows and today is YOUR lucky day for WE have chosen to set-up shop in YOUR town for a few days!" He then spreads his arm expecting applause that doesn't seem to come, so he continues

"That being said, I must inform you that outside of this wonderful news I'm also bringing some bad news. You see, on the road to your little hamlet we encountered some trouble. A well organised group of hobgoblins had set-up shop in their own way on the road we were taking and tried to ambush us. We managed to escape by the skin of our teeth, but afterwards we discovered that we had not been the first with the misfortune to encounter this group."

"Now the reason I inform you of this good sir is not just to increase interest in our own show, though surely you must admit that the men and woman who were capable of narrowly escaping such a harrowing situation must surely be able to put on a good show, but I tell you this because you seem to involved with the protection on this town. Otherwise, why inquire into the business of strangers that just arrived? Well, some of my troupe reasoned that the location and co-ordination of this particular group showed that they were more than mere bandits and that if they were stationed at one road going into town than surely there are others like them stationed at other roads going into town. Good samaritans than we are, we decided to go to the authorities with this but it appears the authorities have found us instead!"

[danielxcutter]

Arendi sighed and covered his face with his hand. "Figures."

[Saintheart]

Drellin’s Ferry, Channath Vale
Six bells, the Sixth of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

The man in the kavadion took in Alastor's speech with no more facial movement than a raised eyebrow. For most of the fey's introduction, his eyes were shifting from the fey to the rest of the train behind them, resting on Aidan now and then, but also taking in the menagerie of animals behind them, the goliath's impressive frame, the dragonborn near them, Aerilaya's seeming blindness, and an assessing look over Arendi's armour and weapons.

Which was all right, because Alastor spotted at least one or two pairs of lips parting among the other three in leather, consistent with a certain slackness of jaw, and correlated with a certain glassiness of eyes as they listened to him.

"You're a circus, you say?" the leader said at length. "Rare enough in these parts. Lucky, too, to come through an ambush of those hobgoblins. Bands of those murderous scum have been skulking near the town for days now. And your guess is right, there are other bands waylaying the western roads to here."

He took another, longer look over the Circus, this time eyes resting on the packs of recovered armour and the travois behind Uno with two hobgoblin corpses on it. One of the other three guards in leather, a sandy-haired man with blue eyes who likely was no more than nineteen, shuffled forward. "Are you all really a circus?"
"Oh, you have no idea (Awwwk!)" Libby the Subtle Observer Of Discretion Being The Better Part of Valour flapped her yellow wings on Vokon's shoulder. The parrot cocked an eye at the young man. "You think there's some other plausible reason for a talking yellow parrot sitting on a giant's shoulders, with a man in a funny hat speaking for us? (Arrk!) Course, I guess we could be pirates, but we're kind of lacking for a ship. Although I guess we have ships of the desert, but we're kind of lacking deserts too. (Arrk!)"
"Huh?" The sandy-haired man blinked.

The leader seemed to finish his inspection of the Circus. He had something like an approving look on his face. He now turned to Alastor once more. "Well, I can't speak for the town, but given the way folk are feeling with the troubles, a circus sounds a lot like a good cure for some worries. Are you needing a place to stay, or do you have your own tents?"
"(Whistle)We've got our own, saer.(Awwk)"
"I see. The village Green's where market fairs are set up, so if you're planning to set up tents that'll likely be the place, but you'll need the Council's permission I'd wager. Go over to the Old Toll House - that's the big stone building down there near the Ferry - and ask for Captain Soranna. And I'll have to ask you to leave those hobgoblin corpses here; the folk are plenty nervous enough without strangers dragging two bodies into the middle of town to get excited about. Whereabouts did you run into them? And why d'you say you weren't the first to encounter them?"

[danielxcutter]

Arendi turned his face slightly away. "Because... we saw the bodies." he said, the sound of scraping metal ringing from his gauntlets as he clenched his fists. "A merchant, three bodyguards, and I think a farmer. We didn't have room to bring them too, though. There was an abandoned farmhouse back there, do you know that place? Could you..." He trailed off.

"...I was going to ask if your men could go get them, but you have your hands full already, don't you?" Arendi said softly, slumping his shoulders.

"...Oh. Right." he said, remembering something. Gesturing towards Aerilaya, the priest said "And our tightrope walker got blinded by their spellcaster. Do you know who can cure that, or at least where such magic items are sold?"

[Saintheart]

Drellin’s Ferry, Channath Vale
Six bells, the Sixth of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

The leader's face grew grim at the mention of the bodies. "Yes - I know that place. The merchant, I don't suppose you--"
"That sounds like it was Jendar, Sergeant Hersk," said one of the farmers, laying a weathered hand on the kavadion-clad warrior's shoulder. "Merris told me he came through here this morning. Him and those three sellswords out of Terrelton."
The Sergeant squinted at the farmer silently.
"Well, what were they supposed to do?" said the farmer, shifting on his feet. "Throw them all in the Toll House?"
"I would have, if I'd known," said Hersk. "I told that damn fool he had no business risking his neck west of the town with the troubles out that way. Him and his bloody 'deal' over in Sheirtalar. Lot of good his deals do his wife and sons now. Bloody Iormel will be turning cartwheels when he hears about this." Hersk exhaled heavily, shaking his head, turning back to Arendi. "Cry your pardon, saer. I'd guess the merchant you found was probably Jendar Lakelock; he has - had - a warehouse here in town. I don't know who the farmer would be, but there's a few outlying homesteads that still haven't had word of the raiding--"
"Jendar's dead?" The sandy-haired boy looked shocked, turning to Hersk.
"Not now, Erid. Stand down now, go get some water, our skins are almost empty, there's a good lad." Hersk watched the boy move hesitantly down the track toward town, then sighed and turned back to Arendi. "We'll see if we can spare a few men to head out there in the morning. I'm guessing if you've cleared that warband out it should be safe enough to ride out and bring the bodies back. At least for a few days. I'd not ask a Greywarden to risk himself when he's already come through something like that."

Spoiler: Arendi

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Greywarden. Now there was an old term. Clerics of Kelemvor were sometimes still called that in the backblocks, or so the monastery had said; an old name, ringing with respect for a death cleric rather than the superstitious throwing-salt-over-shoulders or hand gestures against misfortune that customarily followed one.

Hersk had turned to point down into the town once more. "As for your companion's condition, there's a shrine of Lathander on the far side of town - Kandil of Rethmar lives there. He might be able to help. Still," and he turned back, looking over the roughened condition of the Circus in general and in particular at Aerilaya, "I'd actually try Morlin Coalhewer for your injuries and magical items. His trade's mostly in smithing, but he does stock enchanted weapons and some armor. Not much call for magical weaponry out here until recently, and there aren't that many people round here who can afford what he sells, but he does stock it at least. " Hersk took another glance at the piles of armour and weapons on the improvised sledge the companions were dragging behind them. "He'd probably be interested in whatever you've recovered. That's his smithy, up on the east side - he's dwarven, been here a long time. I remember him working his forge here when I was a boy. The dwarves such as we've hereabouts go to him with their ailments and injuries exclusively, and I've never heard them complain about what they get from him."

Spoiler: The Chronicler's Marginalia

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Morlin's Smithy is at number 5 on the map, and the Shrine of Lathander is at number 6. I'll add all this to the start of the OOC thread in due course.

[danielxcutter]

"...So they were from around here, then. We're sorry to be the bringer of bad news." the cleric of Kelemvor said, bowing his head. "Thank you for understanding, Sergeant. We did recover some things," he continued, unsubtly jabbing the halfling in the side with an elbow, "but I'm happy to know that they'll be able to rest a bit better soon."

[A.A.King]

Alastor jabbed back at the priest, indicating this will be discussed later. "Thank you for your assists in this manner, we'll be sure to remember your face when we open our first show!" Alastor made another elaborate bow before turning around and adressing his performers.

"I suggest we make our way together to greens and split up from there. Some people will have to stay with the animals and our gear while I ask for permission to set-up, but some others can go with Aerilaya to help her eyes fixed."

[Aracor]

I agree, Alastor. I'll accompany Aerilaya as well. Remember, the fact that these are true fanatics and literally willing to slaughter themselves as soon as the tide turns against them is troubling at best. Captain...Seranna? should definitely be aware of that.


He then proceeds to lift the hobgoblin corpses, one in each hand, is about to toss them at the side of the road, then stops and shakes his head. There's no visible strain in his arms.

I'm sorry, Sergeant Hersk. That was rude. Where exactly would you like me to leave...these?

[Saintheart]

Drellin’s Ferry, Channath Vale
Six bells, the Sixth of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

"On the contrary, saer," said Hersk, "I think it entirely appropriate that you dump that miserable refuse in the ditch right there so it doesn't further encumber you ... though I can see it doesn't anyway." Hersk stood aside and waved the other two farmers to the far side of the road. "Drellin's Ferry welcomes the Great Bremer Circus," he said, with just the faintest of grins.

Spoiler: The Chronicler's Marginalia

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You all get 75 XP each.

[danielxcutter]

"I think we'll enjoy our stay as well, Sergeant." Arendi said, nodding. "I think I should probably go to this Morlin as well, Alastor. Even if he doesn't sell potions or the like, I might still be able to be able to buy a scroll for that."

He paused and looked back at the sergeant. "Oh one last thing... I don't know why, but they seemed to be followers of Tiamat. The hobgoblins that is," he remarked jerking his thumb at the bodies, "and I don't think that's common around these areas. Do take care."

[Aracor]

Thank you, Hersk! Would you care to make a wager as to how far they'll roll?

Vokon will pitch the hobgoblins one after the other into the dirt on the side of the road hammer-throw style with a grin before Hersk can answer.

At least they'll be far enough away from you that their dead eyes won't be staring at you, right?

[Dimers]

"I suggest we make our way together to greens and split up from there. Some people will have to stay with the animals and our gear while I ask for permission to set-up, but some others can go with Aerilaya to help her eyes fixed."

"Aye, I'll stay with the animals," Diana responded quickly. "Too worn from that near-death fight to want to wend my way through town, but I expect I'll attract some attention for the Circus just by standing around."

Spoiler: intentions

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I'll spend my time working on fixing my earthsilk jersey, since it got damaged with a piercing crit during the battle. If people stop by and show interest in my features, I'll talk up the circus, come one come all.

[Deadguy]

Aerilaya Ralothyra Sheet Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2) Player: Deadguy

Aerilaya had remained quiet during the interactions with the guards. Her hand resting lightly on the flank of the camel to guide her as they moved. Once the others had made their plans, she simply shrugged and held out her hand, as if waiting to be led to wherever they planned on leading her. There wasn't much for her to say at this point.

She really just wanted a bath. The scent of the road and the animals had been invading her head since they got back on the road after the attack. If it weren't for the hint of hearth smoke in the air, she might not have even known they were near a town.

Spoiler: OOC: Checks

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Active Effects
Hunter's Sense (scent)

[Saintheart]

Alastor, Diana, and Libby

The Old Toll House,
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Six bells, the Sixth of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Despite Diana's condition, Alastor managed to prevail on the dragonborn to come with him to see the Captain, and leaving Aidan and Vokon to their work, they headed up towards the ferry and the Old Toll House they'd been directed to.

On closer inspection, the Toll House was definitely the largest building in the town, even if it was not the tallest. The worn, oversized blocks making up its stone walls and the overbuilt entrances and exits making it workable for people of human height confirmed it as dwarven-made. Alastor could surmise its original purpose, particularly given the name of the place: there obviously had been a dwarven span here once, long ago, now collapsed, and this building had been where tolls were extracted from those passing over that bridge. Now, though, the building served a different function. Noticeboards were secured to the exterior: dates of the next court sessions, declarations of the Town Council establishing checkpoints on exit roads, calls for those professing to possess the will of one Abrem Stoneshaw to come forward given his recent death. There were two guardsmen at the doorway, but did not bar their way. Such places were familiar to Alastor.
Inside, while the place's activity was winding down with impending nightfall, it only took a glance at the activity to establish this building was essentially the seat of what passed for government in small towns like this: a combination town hall, courthouse, jail, and guard headquarters.

The companions accosted a guardsman who'd already stowed his armour and was departing for the day. When Hersk's name was mentioned, he nodded and disappeared into a back room, emerging with a woman who had the look of someone grudgingly used to opponents made of parchment as much as, if not more than, steel.

Spoiler: The Chronicler's Sketch

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Captain Anitah Soranna, as she introduced herself, was younger than Alastor had expected for someone with that rank. He'd already realised they were speaking with the captain of the local guard rather than the actual decisionmakers of the town, but in his experience dealing with (minor) nobility such individuals' views usually carried considerable weight with those in power. And given the size of the town, captain was probably about as high as the ranks went for military purposes.
This wasn't someone to be handled lightly.

The Captain sized up fey, dragonborn, and parrot with a gaze decades older and invited them back into her office, a spartan affair with scuffed desk, closed cupboard, parchment pile to one side, and a recently-lit candle whose tallow smell was slowly filling up the room. There were a few wooden chairs scattered around the room, and she gestured to the companions to make themselves comfortable as she leaned on the front edge of the desk.
"So. You're a circus troupe, were attacked by a hobgoblin warband on the road here, managed to defeat them." She peered at their remaining injuries. "Looks like they did you some damage. Still, you came through it - which is more than can be said for a lot of unfortunates out on those roads. Many thanks for that. So, what can I do for you?"

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Arendi and Aerilaya

Morlin's Smithy,
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Six bells, the Sixth of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Arendi led Aerilaya gently by the hand off the Green and up the dusty track to the smithy. They got a couple of curious glances from passerby, but the activity down on the Green - as Aidan and Vokon were setting up - seemed to be of more interest to most of the townsfolk, and nobody accosted them. It wasn't clear who was drawing more inquisitive glances of the ones they got - the cleric of Kelemvor in scale-and-bones armour, or the beautiful, eyepatched woman who was being led by the hand.

The smithy stood in defiance of the setting sun. It was a big blockhouse of a building - typical dwarven design and construction, and at a glance Arendi could tell it had a similar vintage to the other dwarven buildings they had seen - which was to say it was far older than any of the buildings around it. It was a squat ziggurat of a building without an upper level, a slowly-smoking chimney at its top, the doorway made of well-crafted stone which pivoted on silent stone pins. The heat from the interior washed over Arendi and Aerilaya as they entered, as did the smell of steel, coal, and steam over Aerilaya's blinded senses. No shopfront or concierge here; this was a place of work as much as commerce. Two forges blazed bright red at the rear of the room, providing most of the light. No one manned the bellows; Arendi could see they'd adopted a not-infrequent dwarven design of automated bellows, driven by a system of pulleys, wheels, and slowly-draining casks of water. Firelight glinted and danced off weapons arrayed on racks and on the walls. It required no magician's eye to see several of them were magical in nature - and there were any number of other mundane items around the large room as well on tables. Above them, suspended on chains from the ceiling, was an iron plaque with a stylised smith's hammer above a burning forge. Arendi didn't have much to do with clerics of other faiths, but he couldn't help but appreciate the subtlety: it seemed to advertise the place as a blacksmith, but to any cleric - and more importantly, any dwarf - it was apparent as daylight that it was a symbol of Moradin.

Spoiler: The Chronicler's Sketch

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The dwarf emerged from the shadows. Morlin Coalhewer had a bald head, but his eyes, brows, and beard were as black as a devil's soul with white shot through them like veins of ice in black rock. His beard was hardly visible against his brown skin -- a gold dwarf. His leather apron was as brown as his skin, and he had tied his beard back with a thong, a shockingly white sweatcloth crowning his forehead. The smith was dusting his hands off, white (and stained) sweatcloths tied around his palms. When he spoke, his voice was deep and carved from rock and dusted with smoke. "Welcome, strangers--"
The firelight revealed the symbol on Arendi's armour.
Morlin slowed his pace, hesitating for a moment before essaying a bow. "Saer greywarden. Long time it's been since a cleric of the Lord of the Dead was below this roof. I regret I've no Deathstrike Bracers or Truedeath Crystals to make available for yer work, but mayhap there's something else I can help ye with?"

----

Aidan and Vokon

The Village Green,
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Six bells, the Sixth of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

While the others set off to their various errands, Vokon and Aidan set about unpacking. The village Green was a broad, grassy field where children were playing even as the two of them staked the camels and mules and started unrolling the great garish big top tent that served as both playhouse and inn when they were out on the road. Dobble was quietly taking a nap off to one side, and Pogo had taken the standard noble pose of a dog at rest on his hindquarters belied by a smiling jaw, a lolling tongue, and fast breathing as all dogs did. The combination of animals and unusual look of the two performers conspired to keep people back, but when Vokon heaved with his tree-trunk arms on a guy-rope and the point of the big tent rose skyward, tongues immediately began to wag and more people started down towards the green. A couple of market vendors, who had been packing up for the day, reopened their stalls and lit lanterns. It didn't take long before several dozen people were standing on the verges of the Circus' campsite gawping. Aidan was a little surprised to find that he wasn't really the main source of inquiring looks; it was Vokon who was drawing most of the attention. Perhaps there was something to the rumoured familiarity with drow that Dambrath generated in this area after all.

Either way, even if they were performers, the two travelling companions were also attentive to the environment around them. Which was why, at the nearest edge of the crowd, both goliath and drow spotted a man getting his purse slit by a boy no older than ten or eleven. They were both close enough to do something about it, even perhaps grab the urchin if it came to it...

[danielxcutter]

Arendi took a quick look around the forge again, and spoke. "Ah, a shrine to the Forger of Souls. I should have guessed."

He returned the bow and continued, "Fortunately, I suppose, our business involves the living. You know those Tiamat-worshiping hobgoblins that are causing trouble? We got caught in an ambush, and their priest used a spell to blind my friend here," gesturing at the swordsage.

He shrugged and said "I'm not quite good enough to fix that yet... and also, the sergeant recommended this place. I can see why, now - I'll say, I'm impressed."

[Saintheart]

Arendi and Aerilaya

Morlin's Smithy,
Drellin’s Ferry, Cannath Vale
Six bells, the Sixth of Mirtul,
1372 DR, Year of Wild Magic

Morlin waved away the compliment with a cloth-wrapped hand. "Just trinkets here, saer. I've an interest in th' steel, but th' making of weapons is more of a hobby f'r me than a craft." Arendi, of course, noted the dwarf's gaze moving professionally over their own gear. For a second Arendi had the fleeting impression that Morlin's gaze narrowed as it passed over the weapon at Aerilaya's side, but the dwarf didn't stop or hesitate to say anything by the time the impression registered. Morlin was dusting his hands off in a large box. "Did ye say Tiamat-worshipping hobgoblins? That's news to me. They're surely pressing all the roads west and south, but way I'd heard it was that the Council thought it was just a big warband laying in around the town."

"There's been hobgoblin raids in these parts a long time," he went on, unwrapping his hands and moving across to a bowl of water. "There's tribes up in th' Wyrmbones, ye see. Every couple years a couple gangs come down outta the mountains, annoy people, usually nothin' that bad. Town guard here's good enough t' see them off usually. Never known any hobgoblin gang ever had anythin' t' do with Tiamat, not since I been livin' here. I don't doubt yer conclusion, saer, but if so that's mighty strange tidings."

Morlin finished washing his hands and wiped them carefully dry with a rough cloth. He turned back to the two adventurers. "Can help yer lass companion wi' th' blindness right now, but it'll cost ye some coin. Sorry, if trade was comin' up the Dawn Way I'd likely cut th' price a little, but times're tough. Although -- guessin' from what ye say that ye came out o' th' west at any rate. Any chance ye recovered somethin' from th' hobgoblins? Or ye got somethin' with ye that ye might be willin t' trade over?"

[danielxcutter]

"Didn't bring those now, sorry, but we should probably have the time tomorrow or so. Just my friend's blindness now, please." Arendi said, opening the purse. He wasn't particularly fond about using it, but Aerilaya and the others had come dangerously close to meeting their own gods so Kelemvor might overlook this minor transgression. Hopefully, he'd be able to convince Alastor to return the rest.

"And I'm afraid these hobgoblins did have something to do with Tiamat. The band of raiders that attacked us had a cleric of hers, and even if our little group didn't have a dragonborn to tell us I'd certainly have recognized that symbol myself." the Greywarden said. "If you don't believe us, you can see the armor we got off the cleric. It has that distinctive five-clawed mark."

He shrugged again. "Speaking of which symbols, I like how you managed to put your god's in plain sight while not being too blatant. Clever. I'm not ashamed of my own Lord's, but the attention does get a little annoying at times."

[Deadguy]

Aerilaya Ralothyra Sheet Human Paragon (3) / Swordsage (2) Player: Deadguy

Aerilaya listened to both clerics speak, silently stepping forward a bit. The scent of steel and soot and fire were a bit more to her liking than the dust and animals of the road. It reminded her of her father.

Despite the bold stride forward, it was not to make any sort of announcement or declaration to the dwarf. She simply held her hands up toward the source of the warmth. The heat of the forge gave her some measure of comfort despite the lack of light. She could tell while walking to this building that the Sun was growing low in the sky, the evening chill creeping in.

"Can this be used to heat water, say for a bath?" The swordsage motioned above, toward the sounds of the creaking pulleys and wheels, and sound of the water. As she spoke, she reached into her satchel and retrieved her pipe. She took a small pinch of dried leaves from the bag and packed them inside with practiced ease.

As if making an assumption, the blind woman held out the tobacco pouch toward the dwarf's voice, offering what she had.

Spoiler: OOC: Checks

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Active Effects
Hunter's Sense (scent)