Chapter One: The Old Cellar

Chapter One: The Old Cellar

http://www.historicalportraits.com/A...castle%20l.jpg

The morning sun is dull as it shines through a layer of thin grey clouds overhead, and the air holds the chill of early autumn as the group of adventurers ride toward the Stonehearth Brewery. Warden Vale was kind enough to provide the group with five sturdy mountain bred horses to help speed the journey, so it is early on their third day out of Haldon Hollow that the adventurers come to the old field stone bridge that spans the Benden River and leads into the fields that surround the brewery. On either side of the road lay large fields of hops and barley, wheat and even grapes. Low stone walls separate the fields, and here and there the shambled form of a scarecrow rises above the crops.

Stonehearth Brewery is built on the sight of an ancient fortress outpost left over from a past empire that no one can remember. The ruins have stood in the foothills of the Northcrown Mountains for as long as even the eldest elf can remember, but the name of the empire or how long ago it held power have been utterly lost to history. However, the industrious dwarves of the Copperwick clan long ago tore down the crumbled walls and towers of the old fort and used the stone to build a proper brewery in it's place on the old foundations, and it has stood on the spot now for three generations.

AS the group of adventurers approach the two story stone brewery, they can see that in spite of it's geometric dwarven architecture, it is a rather cozy place with a wooden roof and vines crawling up the walls. The front doors are large, ornate wood with elaborate copper handles and a large copper bells hanging to their side. Off to one side of the building is a second set of much larger doors that have been barred shut with a heavy wooden beam, and a large, empty cart rests just outside of them. A few feet away from the wagon are the stables, and the group can hear the sound of several mules shuffling around inside. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, other than the empty wagon with no sign of the busting dwarves who should be loading it for the festival.

Thankful for this stout horse capable of carrying even his weight, Melk rides up to the brewery with the rest of the pack. It's a sight to behold, and he gives a slight half-nod, half-bow out of respect to the generations of artisans and their decades of craft as his horse passes by the estate. Melk gives it a quick once-over, looking for anything unusual. He's a little unsettled that he doesn't immediately see anything.
"Let's be cautious about this," he advises the rest of the group. "I was half expecting stains of blood on the dirt, claw marks on the wood, the shaft of an arrow splintered against the stone. A straightforward explanation. This is too regular."
Melk is going to guide his horse to the stables, hop off, and tie up the mount to a piece of weak and/or rotten-looking wood. Stout enough that a mild pull won't let the steed loose, but if something should happen that the horse senses mortal danger and is panicked then the surge of adrenaline will give it the strength it needs to free its bonds. Melk isn't ruling out the presence of some dreadful predator, and he doesn't want the horse to die in vain while he's inside exploring. Not least of all because then he's stuck without a horse when he needs to flee. While he's at the stables he'll also look over the mules, to see how much manure has built up inside to get some clue as to how long they've gone unattended and thus how long ago the Copperwicks vanished.

Spoiler: Investigation

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[roll0]

Zarissa Cartwright

The tiefling slowed her stubborn, black mare with a slight pressure of her knees and a few whispered words. She leaned forward and stroked the single white stripe down the horse's nose with her ashen-gray hand. She held back for a moment while the dwarf eagerly began his investigation. While she didn't blame Melk for being keen to find out the fate of his kin, and also identified with that notion, Zarissa preferred to take a moment longer to take in the entire picture.

Zarissa sat in her saddle, idly petting her horse's neck. She was on the tall side of average height if you measured her by human standards, with a working woman's build, and she seemed very comfortable in the worn-in but taken care of splint armor she wore. She spurned the use of a helmet simply because she would have had to get one specially made to fit the goatlike horns that swept back from her hairline toward the crown of her head. She'd gathered her longish, silvery hair into a tight braid, though a few stray bangs fell across her forehead. She had bright, yellow eyes like those of a cat that swept from one side of the brewery's fields to the other, wondering if the tall crops held hidden enemies. A longsword was sheathed between her shoulder-blades, covered by circular targe shield, and a pair of handaxes rode her hips. Her face was all sharp cheekbones and predatory features, giving her a severe look, but her brow creased with worry. She pursed her lips together and clicked her tongue once in thought.

"This place is defensible. If we're going to find the anyone, they'll be barricaded inside. It wouldn't make sense to fight out here unless they were completely taken by surprise." she thought aloud. "It does not set my mind at ease to think of some evil at work here. Haldon Hallow is a peaceful place. We don't often have troubles with orcs or monsters coming down from the mountains, and we're too poor to be much of a target for bandits..." For the longest time she had thought that her father's mere presence had kept evil at bay, that they wouldn't dare challenge Augustin Cartwright. She thought of her home as a sanctuary from the troubles of the outside world. She didn't want to think that the retired adventurer and his town watch were no longer a solid deterrent, but then here she was with sword and shield at the ready. If it was her time, then so be it.

Zarissa hustled her mount forward to join Melk in the stables, copying his actions with the slightly rotted wood. She also removed her pack from where it was tied to the mare's saddle. If something spooked the horse, she didn't want her running away with the supplies and healing potions Zarissa had brought along. She replaced her shield with the pack on her back and held the targe relaxed in her off-hand.

Spoiler: Mechanics and Statblock

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https://i.imgur.com/iPrVB4N.jpg
Zarissa Cartwright
Tiefling Fighter (Eldritch Knight) 2 NG

AC 17/19 HP 20 Speed 30ft

Str 16 (3) Dex 12 (1) Con 14 (2) Wis 10 (0) Int 15 (2) Cha 12 (1)

Attacks
Longsword +5 1d8+3/5
Handaxe x2 +5 1d6+3/5
Dagger +5 1d4+3/5



Darkvision (60ft)
Hellish Resistance (Fire)
Infernal Legacy (Thaumaturgy Cantrip)
Armor Prof (All Armor, Shields)
Weapon Prof (Simple and Martial)
Fighting Style: Dueling
Second Wind (1d10+2)
Action Surge 1/day

Arannis stayed on his horse as well. He was looking as immaculate as always. Golden blonde hair glossy and straight, healthy skin. Upon stopping he glanced up at the doors, then back to were their Dwarf companion was examining the Mules.

"Watch your step." The elf called after him. For Arannis their was only one thing on his mind. How in the nine hells he had gotten roped into this mess. Frankly it wasn't like him to volunteer for things like this.

Leaning foreward on the pure white horse he rode he mulled it over in his head. Clean fingers tapping on the horses neck. It was most likely a combination of factors. His pride he simply wasn't going to stand around and let others hog the attention. His families connections to the dwarfs, it had endured this long and he was NOT going to be the one to put the alliance in jeopardy. But the most pressing reason was...he really a taste of the liquor they had brewed.

The elf finally hopped down off his steed and mimicked the dwarf's knot. With a flourish and a quick can trip he pulled a carrot out of his sleeve and let the animal snack on it.

"I can cast a spell to see if the lack of damage is an illusion, but it wouldn't be as simple as this little parlor trick."

There are no rotted or loose beams in the stables. All of the structures looks well maintained and the wood is all sanded smooth and polished with wax to avoid splintering and to resist water damage. Inside the stables four heavy mules stand in individual stalls, shuffling around and poking their noses at mostly empty feed troughs. The floors are clean and covered in a fresh layer of straw, and by all appearances the mules are being well taken care of and have not been neglected at all.

Zarissa Cartwright

In the absence of any rotted wood, Zarissa simply produced one of her hand axes and frayed the lead she was using to tie the mare up, so that if the horse bolted it would simply snap. She had more rope in her pack for when would later need to replace it.

The tiefling noted that the mules' feed troughs were mostly empty, and since they and the stables were otherwise meticulously taken care of it gave her a rough timetable as to how long the dwarves hadn't been here. She clicked her tongue again and headed toward the brewery's front door only to hear a sudden commotion in the field to her right, off in the direction they had come. She gripped her hand axe and raised her shield, but something white and furry exploded out of the barley at her with a...bark?

"Sir Gilbert! I told you to stay with father!" she admonished the sheepdog, who seemed about 90% wild, white fur and 10% tongue. He wagged his tail furiously and pressed himself against her legs, looking up at Zarissa adoringly. She sighed and scratched him behind the ears. "Should have known he'd follow us... You're going to have to wait out here and guard the horses, you crazy mutt."

Spoiler: OOC, Mechanics and Statblock

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OOC: Sir Gilbert is entirely a non-combat character. He's just around to be a dog.

https://i.imgur.com/iPrVB4N.jpg
Zarissa Cartwright
Tiefling Fighter (Eldritch Knight) 2 NG

AC 17/19 HP 20 Speed 30ft

Str 16 (3) Dex 12 (1) Con 14 (2) Wis 10 (0) Int 15 (2) Cha 12 (1)

Attacks
Longsword +5 1d8+3/5
Handaxe x2 +5 1d6+3/5
Dagger +5 1d4+3/5



Darkvision (60ft)
Hellish Resistance (Fire)
Infernal Legacy (Thaumaturgy Cantrip)
Armor Prof (All Armor, Shields)
Weapon Prof (Simple and Martial)
Fighting Style: Dueling
Second Wind (1d10+2)
Action Surge 1/day

Melk looks to Zarissa loosening her lead, and takes out his dagger to worry his similarly.
"Good thinking," he nods to her. He then looks over the mule enclosure.
"Alright. I keep expecting one thing and getting another, and I don't know what to make of it." Melk turns to the rest of the group, then glances concernedly toward the brewery. "Let's look at what we know. Something made the Copperwicks disappear. Or, well, I suppose that's not wholly true. For some reason, the Copperwicks haven't been seen.
I came here thinking to find a raid and robbery, or the ruins left by a hideous beast. But the brewery is intact and does not bear marks of battle or invasion, and the animals have not been preyed upon. But now this, to see that the stables are clean? The trough is nearly empty, but not entirely? I imagined we would come across a deserted brewery, but there is clearly someone still here. Perhaps the Copperwicks remain inside, or their captors do? One thing is for sure - we have no element of surprise to our advantage. I expected this place to be empty so I was hardly careful trotting up here on horseback. Anyone in the brewery has seen us and may be watching us now. I say that all there's left to do is march in the front door. Those large side doors are barred from the outside - no one can burst out and flank us from there. We may be in for a fight, but we won't know until we take those first steps."
With that, Melk approaches the copper-handled front door. He waves over the strong-armed Zarissa to keep near as he readies his own hammer and shield, and motions for those with Elf-blood to keep their eyes peeled.

https://i.pinimg.com/736x/be/da/c3/b...nspiration.jpg

Anlelvliel Duskwhisper Second level Ranger Spoiler: Combat Stats Show HP: 16/16 AC: 16 Concentrating on: – Other effects: The ride through the wilderness was relaxing for Anlelviel. She listened to the birds and ground animals scurrying and felt at home. Over the past few days she had gotten to know each of the others, all of whom seemed good people. Some more gruff or more attractive than others, but that was the way of people. Living alone had truly helped the young half-elf realize the uniqueness in each individual. She had gotten to know her mount, Lighthouse, quite a bit over the past few days. A rather unruly stallion, he settled down once he realized he didn't have a novice astride him. Finally they were at the brewery. Anlelviel had been worried about them since it was pointed out that they were running late. They really did make the best ale in the district....oh...and they were good people who didn't deserve a grisly end. But the ale...mmmm... Looking around the area, Anlelviel found herself agreeing with Melk's assessment. They had approached openly, so if there were anyone inside they had already been seen. On the other hand, if they had been seen by a hostile person inside, they more than likely would have already attacked. Otherwise, they were just giving up the high ground by allowing them to enter. Melk walks toward the door and motions for Zarissa to join him. Sigh. Showtime. Anlelviel took hold of her long brown hair, gave it a few twists, and pinned it all to the top of her head in one fluid motion. She then shrugs her bow off of her shoulder and pulls an arrow from her quiver. She nods her readiness and adds, "Be careful, Melk." She then watches the edges of the brewery to spy anything which may be coming from around the sides in ambush. Spoiler: OOC Show Perception Roll: [roll0]

Zarissa Cartwright

"Stay, Gil." Zarissa put some steel into her voice so that the excited sheepdog would listen to her. Then she reached over her head and pulled the longsword off of her back. The blade was straight and double-edged, with a chain-wrapped hilt and a circular pommel. It wasn't new, but was obviously well cared-for, like the rest of her equipment. She nodded wordlessly to Melk, signaling her readiness.

Spoiler: OOC, Mechanics and Statblock

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OOC:

https://i.imgur.com/iPrVB4N.jpg
Zarissa Cartwright
Tiefling Fighter (Eldritch Knight) 2 NG

AC 17/19 HP 20 Speed 30ft

Str 16 (3) Dex 12 (1) Con 14 (2) Wis 10 (0) Int 15 (2) Cha 12 (1)

Attacks
Longsword +5 1d8+3/5
Handaxe x2 +5 1d6+3/5
Dagger +5 1d4+3/5



Darkvision (60ft)
Hellish Resistance (Fire)
Infernal Legacy (Thaumaturgy Cantrip)
Armor Prof (All Armor, Shields)
Weapon Prof (Simple and Martial)
Fighting Style: Dueling
Second Wind (1d10+2)
Action Surge 1/day

Feeling a little more confident with capable-looking fighters at his back, Melk reaches up to the copper handle with his shielded hand, and gives the door a hearty pull. Boy he'll look silly if it's solidly locked.

Mayar the Reader

She hadn't left the Hallow in years. Fortune-telling kept her busy enough, and then she had children to care for, and a husband to come home to, and so her first glimpse of the Stonehearth Brewery was quite a sight. This was the brewery of Copperwick fame, and for the first time in her life, she was seeing it with her eyes and not her tongue.

Mayar, like everyone else, takes a look around. She agreed with Melk. The site was undisturbed, calmly eerie, without signs of struggle. She dismounts her horse and ties it to Zarissa's post.

"Sir Gilbert!" the tiefling cries. Mayar turns to see a happy sheepdog and a felicitious reunion. She sighs and gives her companion a smile, half-wanting Fatima or Nor to have followed her, too. Of course, they would have to be sent back immediately, but she would have liked to see her children one last time. Three days without a glimpse of their faces or their childish chatter - the longest she's been away from them, ever. She almost regretted this trip, but the cards never led her astray. She was destined for this trip, had to make this trip, and in her heart and mind, she knew it to be the truth.

She watches the party search around, and she sees Melk at the door. She gives him a reassuring smile, and pats one of her pockets. "Don't worry," she says. "If the door won't budge when you pull, I've got a solution. And if that doesn't work, she has a solution, too." She points her thumb back at Zarissa, and then turns and gives the tiefling a playful grin. "I reckon if you're strong enough, you can open just about anything."

Spoiler: Mechanics

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Everyone already made Investigation and Perception checks, but maybe an addition couple will relay more information:

Investigation: [roll0].
Perception: [roll1].

Also, if the door's locked, here's a proficiency check with her thieves' tools, to see if she can picklock it:

Thieves' Tools: [roll2]

Arannis left his horse's side, after adjusting the knot a little so the beast could run if he was attacked. He moves to the rest of the group and pulls his Longbow from his back notching an arrow and training it on the doorway. He might have been a wizard, but well...you eventually run out of spells.

"So...whose betting that they all just overslept?"

Zarissa Cartwright

"No." Zarissa said, eyebrows knitting together in frustration. "My mother came here to fix their cart, and she hasn't returned. She is not one to slack off nor sleep in, and can defend herself well. If I have not heard from her, then something is wrong. And I will find out what." she elaborated, filling the others in on her personal stake in this quest. She was worried, that was plain enough on her face.

Spoiler: OOC, Mechanics and Statblock

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OOC:

https://i.imgur.com/iPrVB4N.jpg
Zarissa Cartwright
Tiefling Fighter (Eldritch Knight) 2 NG

AC 17/19 HP 20 Speed 30ft

Str 16 (3) Dex 12 (1) Con 14 (2) Wis 10 (0) Int 15 (2) Cha 12 (1)

Attacks
Longsword +5 1d8+3/5
Handaxe x2 +5 1d6+3/5
Dagger +5 1d4+3/5



Darkvision (60ft)
Hellish Resistance (Fire)
Infernal Legacy (Thaumaturgy Cantrip)
Armor Prof (All Armor, Shields)
Weapon Prof (Simple and Martial)
Fighting Style: Dueling
Second Wind (1d10+2)
Action Surge 1/day

"...." Arannis glanced away from the door back to the immediate area. "How long ago was this? Did you see any cart tracks?"

As Melk reaches for the door it is suddenly pulled open from the inside, swinging back, away from the party and into the house. Standing in the doorway is a young dwarf in simple, homespun clothes with only the thinnest layer of fuzz on his chin. He eyes the group of armed adventurers standing on the doorstep with a look of shock and drops the heavy bag of livestock feed he was carrying, causing it to spill across the steps, ”What in the name of Moradin’s gray beard are you lot about?!” he asks incredulously, taking a small step backward.

The members of the group who are local to Haldon Hollow recognize this young dwarf as Yorin, the youngest son of the brew master, and he looks both surprised and annoyed at the presence of armed adventurers at the brewery door.

Melk staggers back, putting up his shield reflexively and raising his hammer high expecting to strike. Surprised by the face he sees he lowers the hammer gingerly to his side, though he keeps his shield at his chest.
"Yorin Copperwick? Well doesn't that just beat all...?" Melk murmurs. "Er, first things first, I believe we owe you an apology for storming to your home like this. Two days ago out in Haldon Hollow warden Galen Vale asked us few to ride out to your brewery to check in on you and all the Copperwicks. Everyone's getting prepared for the harvest festival, and they were concerned they hadn't heard anything from your family as the day approaches. We came here expecting to see the place ransacked, but it looks right as rain. Is anything the matter?"

Spoiler: Rolls

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Persuasion to warm him up to us and smooth over the awkward circumstances [roll0] (Maybe factoring in Rustic Hospitality, for whatever it's worth?) EDIT: WELL HE HATES US
Insight to gauge if Yorin really is alright and as usual, or if maybe he's being kept hostage and forced to put on a brave face. [roll1]

https://i.pinimg.com/736x/be/da/c3/b...nspiration.jpg

Anlelvliel Duskwhisper Second level Ranger Spoiler: Combat Stats Show HP: 16/16 AC: 16 Concentrating on: – Other effects: Annie frowned. Something was strange. No self-respecting dwarf would leave a beardless child in charge of something as important as ale unless something was seriously wrong. Annie waited to see the answers to Melk's questions.

Arannis lowered his bow and arrow, he doesn't store them as he's not entirely convinced their safe just yet. He cast his eyes about to see if their was anything they missed and walks up to the doorway the Boy emerged from and peeks inside. "Have you had any visitors lately, aside from us?"

Spoiler: rolls

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Perception
[roll0]

Zarissa Cartwright

The statuesque tiefling woman was momentarily taken aback by the sudden appearance of the young dwarf, but she didn't lower her weapon. She didn't have enough evidence to put voice to it, but everything still seemed off about this situation. Short of some wizard messing with time itself, there was no reason they'd have all been this late. This time of day should have seen dwarves bustling about to make up for lost time, but this youth didn't seem to have a care in the world until he was suddenly faced with the armed companions outside his door. Not only that, but Zarissa's mother would have insisted on meeting the deadline.

Was this all a trick? Or had the dwarves really just lost track of time? Where then was the Matron Cartwright?

Spoiler: OOC, Mechanics and Statblock

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OOC:

https://i.imgur.com/iPrVB4N.jpg
Zarissa Cartwright
Tiefling Fighter (Eldritch Knight) 2 NG

AC 17/19 HP 20 Speed 30ft

Str 16 (3) Dex 12 (1) Con 14 (2) Wis 10 (0) Int 15 (2) Cha 12 (1)

Attacks
Longsword +5 1d8+3/5
Handaxe x2 +5 1d6+3/5
Dagger +5 1d4+3/5



Darkvision (60ft)
Hellish Resistance (Fire)
Infernal Legacy (Thaumaturgy Cantrip)
Armor Prof (All Armor, Shields)
Weapon Prof (Simple and Martial)
Fighting Style: Dueling
Second Wind (1d10+2)
Action Surge 1/day

Mayar the Reader

Like everyone else, the gnome is surprised. But she didn't think that it was just tardiness - her cards had suggested otherwise, and her cards were never wrong. She doesn't say anything, letting the rest of her companions speak.