74's Hollow's Last Hope IC

[seventyfour]

Perched at the edge of civilized lands, the small town of Falcon’s Hollow has always had to rely on itself to solve its problems. Meanwhile, the uncaring lumber barons squeeze the common folk for every last copper, deaf to their pleas. Now the hacking coughs of the sick are heard throughout town. The plague has come to Falcon’s Hollow and the town’s leaders can’t be bothered to stop it.

From either the goodness of your heart or some less altruistic reason, you want to stop this plague and cure those who've contracted it. Luckily, you've heard rumours that a local herbalist "Mad Laurel" know what the disease is, what caused it and crucially, how to cure it. Apparently, or so the rumour says, she needs brave young adventurers to retrieve the last few ingredients which can only be found in the heart of the Darkmoon Wood.

"Mad Laurel" lives in the Falcon's Hollow running a small shop. Creeping ivy and full window boxes cover the façade of the rugged-looking, two-story shop bearing the faded sign “Roots and Remedies.” A line of twenty-some somber townsfolk—some with pale, wheezing children, others seeming to be precipitously near tears—stretches from the open door.

After a fairly long wait in the queue, you finally get into the shop itself. The smell of burnt earth and spicy incense chokes the air of the cramped, mud-tracked shop. Bunches of dried herbs hang from the ceiling, along with dangling pots, presses, alchemical apparatuses, and glassware of more arcane purposes. Pouches of rare plants, jars of colored glass, and all manner
of dried, preserved, and jellied animal parts fill high shelves and tables doing double duty as displays and workspaces. In the shop’s rear, a rail-thin woman with severe-looking spectacles and hair pulled back tightly busies
herself between an overpacked rack of herbs, a table covered in stray powders and measuring equipment, and a pot loudly bubbling over with thick gray froth. Over the din of her work and with the barest of hurried glances, the woman impatiently shouts, “I take it you're another one of the volunteers I've been looking for? Wait in the back with the others, I'll be with you in a bit.” accompanied by a vague gesture toward a door at the back of the shop.

You head through the small door and, emerge in a cramped kitchen. A small stove in one corner makes the room feel warm and cozy, but the number of people in it make the otherwise small kitchen feel even smaller. There's 11 people in the room. A tall man with gold and green eyes, a dwarf with a large axe and a holy symbol to Moradin, a brown haired halfling with rapier, a tall wild looking man with a spear, a mornful little gnome with a crossbow, a pair of elves with bow's conversing rapidly in a strange tongue whilst a third one stands and listens, a massive scared brutish looking man with an equally big broadsword on his back, a tall stick thin and boney woman with about 20 knives strapped in various places and finally a sallow man who's idly stroking the neck of a large raven.

What do you do?

Spoiler

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Minus your own character from the description (obviously) and factor in when you arrive. Try to use this opportunity to get to know the other player characters, the others are NPC's who may or may not appear later in the adventure (I haven't decided yet) but please don't talk to them more than say introducing yourself.

(Note: I hope you all enjoy yourselves, feel free to pm me if you have any concerns and OOC thread )

[Barthac]

Looking around at the others assembled in the small kitchen, Norril swallows so loudly he swears the others can hear it. Shoulda stayed at the bar, Norril he berates himself, feeling nervous sweat start to form on his back. Norril had signed on to a dwarven caravan and arrived in the small town a few days ago. He hadn't seen much more than the local saloon until this morning. His coin purse was growing thin and he left the inn to find work. He saw several working class in a line and figured it was the line to work (that's how it worked in his hometown anyway). After a severe wait he ended up in the shop when the mistress hurried him into the kitchen.

He opened his mouth to greet the others but the only sound that came out was, Oh my. He quickly moves over behind the halfling, hoping the larger races don't step on him.

[Vladislav]

Gormil surveyed the congregation with curiosity. They weren't at all like his clanfolk. Most didn't even have beards. And they were dressed and armed in ways most bizzare and undwarven. I sure am a long way from home, he thought. And someone will have to break this uncomfortable silence, might as well be me.

Mustering the best accent he could manage, he turned to the other adventur-seekers in common, Well met, friends, I am Gormil, Crusader by will of Moradin. I take it we are all interested in the good cause of bringing an end to this plague?

[ToySoldierCPlus]

The man with green-and-gold eyes nods to the dwarf. "That's why I'm here. Name's Kalas, Dragonfire Adept. Well-met Ser Gormil." The man carries no weapons, but doesn't appear concerned. Quite the opposite, he appears very confident, and quite relaxed.

[missmvicious]

Seraphina enters the room behind the dwarf, surveying the group of mercenaries. When conversation breaks out she is quick to pipe in, " 'Ello, name's Seraphina, Seraphina Gamwich. And my interest is more in exploring Darkmoon Wood. Amongst its dangers their are said to be greatly valuable things."

[Vladislav]

You do me an honor undeserved, Goodman Kalas; I am no Knight. Pray tell, what is a Dragonfire Adept? I never heard the term.

[inexorabletruth]

Burning Sky observes the conversation quietly, sharpening his throwing axes and pairing names to faces.

[ToySoldierCPlus]

Kalas smiles. "A Dragonfire Adept is a wielder of some of the most ancient, primal forces in creation. I do not wield blade nor spell, and though I offer my prayers to Bahamut, I do not call on him for power nor intercession. Rather, I call upon the flame and fury of dragons themselves!" Kalas gestures impressively, and spits a short gout of flame into the air as punctuation.

[inexorabletruth]

Burning Sky jumps back, startled nearly out of his moccasins, and readies his axe for a throw. "Dragon magic!" he rasps through gritted teeth.

[Vladislav]

Gormil also flinches at the burst of fire, but the barbarian's reaction seems over the top. 'tis fine, warrior. Bahamut is the father of good dragonkind and Torm's right hand. His flame's a blessing that burns the wicked, he recalls from the Holy Scriptures of his temple.

[ToySoldierCPlus]

"Aye, that it is, and so is mine. But our spear-wielding friend is right, I do possess draconic magic beyond my breath, though that is certainly the most... impressive feat in my current repertoire."

[missmvicious]

"Fancy." Seraphina says simply.

[inexorabletruth]

Burning Sky up and lowers his axe. And looks around to the group, a bit embarrassed and nods his understanding. He hikes a foot back up onto a stool and rests his axe arm on his knee to continue sharpening.

[missmvicious]

"It already looks like it could split hairs." Seraphina comments about the barbarian's ax.

[Vladislav]

Gormil doesn't know what to make of the Halfling girl's sense of humor. Joking at the face of adversity is extrement non-dwarven, but maybe that how the beardless folk do things. Eventually he decides smiling would be a safe reaction, so he tries that out. He's not very good at it, and ends up producing more of a scowl.

[inexorabletruth]

Burning Sky looks to Seraphina and Gormil, and decides it's time to break the ice. "It's the skull under the hair I intend to split." A cocky smile tugs at his lips as he rakes a thumb over the edge of the blade, milking a tiny drop of crimson blood to run like a solitary tear down the cheek of the blade. "When do we head out for this... Darkmoon Wood? My axes are, at last, ready."

[Vladislav]

I, for one, would like a word with Miss Laurel before we go. Don't want to wander blindly in the woods without even knowing what to look for.

[ToySoldierCPlus]

"I agree, but we may be waiting for some time. That was not a small line in front, and I suspect she'll deal with them all before she comes for us."

[missmvicious]

"If I'da known that then I would have enjoyed a nice lie in." Seriphina says with a yawn.

[inexorabletruth]

Burning Sky frowns at the news. "I hate waiting."

[seventyfour]

Within half an hour, Laurel (who you assume must have finished with all the customers now) enters the room. She's exactly what you'd expected from a mad old herbswoman; stooped, wearing a simple dress and a faded purple flowery shawl that covers her hair. Her face is wrinkled and ancient looking but she has cunning look in her eye that tells you this woman knows what she's doing.

She takes all of you in, giving you each a long and hard look before finally speaking.

"Well... Don't we have a fine crowd of young folk here? All eager to make a name for yourselves I expect? But I wonder how many of you are up to faceing the dangers of the Darkmoon wood. Who here is willing to risk it all to help little old me cure this blackscour taint?"

With this shes gives you all another glare before continuing

"But I guess you wouldn't have come if you weren't? Oh to be young and foolish again... Give me a minute and I'll explain to you what I need"

She pushes past the people in the kitchen to get to a old rickety looking bookcase. She takes the biggest tome from it and slams it down on the kitchen table. She flicks through to a premarked page and resumes speaking.

"This here is my grandmothers book. Supposedly she traded her eyes to the witch Ulizmila who lives in the woods, and while I dunno if she was telling the truth about it or not it hasn't led me wrong so far although some of the potions seem a little strange to me...

This concoction is particularly difficult to make. It requires some rare roots and concentrations, most of which I have here, but there’s three I don’t. Elderwood moss, which I’ve never heard of, but granny says the stuff only grows on the oldest tree in a forest. A specially pickled root called rat’s tail, again, sounds like hoojoo to me. And seven ironbloom mushrooms, stunty little things that only grow in dark places thick with metal, a favorite among dwarves, or so I hear.

I simply need you to find these ingredients and bring them back to me, simple enough yes? Any questions?"

[Barthac]

Hardly simple Norril says Is that all you can give us? We could skulk around the dark woods for months and never know if we found the oldest tree and you don't even know what that root looks like. Surely there is someone who knows more about this stuff.

[inexorabletruth]

Burning Sky scowls at the thick tome. "I agree with him," he says as he jams a thumb in the direction of Norril. "We shall require a guide: one who knows what these items look like, or at least you could provide a sketch of them. I fear no danger in those woods, but I have no relevant knowledge of mushrooms, mosses and roots and could could bring back the wrong items unwittingly, which could waste precious time."

[Vladislav]

I heard of Ironbloom mushrooms, Gormil strokes his beard, but never actually saw one. A rare delicacy, they are. But I have some mining experience, to better locate places thick with metal. As for the rat's tail, the elderwood moss and the oldest tree, I'm afraid I am more of an adept of religion and esoterica than of nature.

[seventyfour]

Laurel replies: "Well, for the elderwood mold, there’s gotta be an oldest tree in the vale. Damned if I know where it is, though. The rat’s tail and mushrooms are even longer shots. Way north, toward the mountains,people say there used to live a bunch of dwarves. They’re not there anymore, but I’d bet their forges are. If you can find ironbloom anywhere around here, that’d be your best bet.

As for the rat’s tail, who knows? Well. Actually. Ulizmila, the witch that lives deep in the woods might. She’s a crafty, mean thing that knows all sorts of strangeness. She might even have one. I don’t know what she might want for it, but I doubt it’d come cheap. As I said, my grandmother traded her sight to the old crone for a few pages of what she knew, and that was years and years back, and I don’t know a soul who got any nicer as they got older.

Personally I've never been very deep in the wood, but if you head east to the lumber consortium camp I'm sure someone there could help you, but I'm warning you now the people there aren't very nice to put it mildly."

[Vladislav]

Gormil wonders about the wisdom of trading one's eyesight for a book - which one then won't be able to read - but says nothing, as not to insult the memory of Laurel's grandmother. The prospect of visiting the homes of his kin excites him, and bothers him at the same time. There is nothing sadder than a cold forge.

Right. We can visit the dwarven holds, of course, and the lumber folk. He leaves the witch out of the itinerary, and not by accident. Some basic directions should serve, a simple map perchance?

[missmvicious]

Seraphina remains quite while the group goes over the dilemma, not feeling like adding another "I don't know what that is" to the conversation.

[seventyfour]

Laurel responds; "It's really quite easy to find take the east road out of town and it's about a days walk away"

Then the man with the raven speaks up "This is very nice and all, but surely we should be rewarded for our efforts? I'm sure I'm not the only one who is doing this for more than altruistic reasons?"

This gets a dirty look from the massive man with the greatsword, interest from the elves whilst the woman doesn't look as if she's paying attention.

Laurel doesn't take this very well “Pay you!? I’ll pay you in…! Well, I suppose I’m not doing all this for free either. If nothing else, this whole thing’s been good for business. How about this, you come back with everything I need to brew the medicine and I’ll cut you in: 300 gold for each component you find. Fair?”

"Perfectly, let us depart Aunrae" With this him and the dagger lady leave. The elves and the scarred man follow shortly afterwards (although seperately)

Laurel addresses you "Is there something else you need?"

[Vladislav]

Naught but me axe and Moradin's blessing.

Gormil gathers his gear and is ready to leave.

[inexorabletruth]

Burning Sky nods in kind with Gormil's assessment, preferring the direct approach to problem solving rather than ceaseless banter, he slides his spear into it's sheath and slings his tent bag over his shoulder.

"If we make haste, we can reach the forest's edge in half that time... provided all of us can handle the strain." He looks to the halfling and the gnome with a skeptical eye.