As in Days of Yore (IC)

['Neath the Moon]

The town of Aspendale, in the kingdom of Essway, is a comfortable place. Perhaps two-hundred people live within the town itself, and about the same number reside on farmsteads within a few miles of it. It is situated in a wide, shallow valley, where the plains begin to give way to hills. Greenstone Creek, a large stream, curves around it from the east as it flows north toward the sea. It is early autumn, and dusk will fall within the hour.


Yorick, the jester, sits at a table in Whitemill Inn. He's heard a tale of a treasure guarded by the fey, somewhere nearby. Specifically, the story goes that those who seek them out are invited into their court. They offer a challenge (the details of which vary from telling to telling) for a prize: a small silver orb which floats and rolls at the behest of its owner and produces a ringing music as it moves.
Behind the bar is a stout, matronly woman in a dress and apron with caramel-toned skin, dark hair flecked with grey, and glinting dark eyes. There are four patrons drinking at the bar; probably locals given their light apparel and camaraderie with the innkeeper. A balding man with an auburn beard and a young girl with hair of the same color sit at another table, dressed in grey-browns and blacks, their bags on the floor beside them; presumably travelers.


Branid is not quite lost. The mines outside of town have given way to natural cavern, with occasional returns to rough-hewn stone where a vein of iron ore had been found. The map supplied by an old miner turned out to be very basic, just a rough impression of the main tunnels. What Branid seeks is said to be in the deeper regions. He carries on, following the little channel cut into the rock by trickling water, just like the old sorceress told him to. There is a glimmering in the darkness ahead, a dozen or more little points of light, shining like stars. Those must be the crystals, like the one on the sorceress's pendant, glowing with their own light.

Here is what Branid sees.

Spoiler: Image: The Caverns

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Google Docs links HERE

Dynadin stalks through the forest, bow drawn. The dire boar is wounded, it can only go so far. These trees are thick, though, more so than they were a half-mile back. A crashing sound comes from his left, as the great beast leaps through the underbrush. Its hide is a ruddy brown, stained deep maroon in three spots where the broken shafts of arrows stick out. Red-orange bristles catch the light of the low sun, and its amber eyes are narrowed with rage between cruel black-ivory tusks.

Spoiler: Combat already!

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I rolled for initiative for you both, since I saw no need to waste several posts on that, and you won by a long shot.

[Haluesen]

The hunter Dynadin looked at the wild boar with steady focus as he lifted his bow. I've got you now...Wodas, please aid me in bringing in my prey." he whispered as he let fly with a pair of arrows, the better to slow it down or perhaps finish it now.

Spoiler: Rolls

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Using Rapid Shot to attack the boar, assuming it is not already in melee range otherwise this is a bad idea.
Attack: (1d20+8)[26]
Attack 2: (1d20+8)[20]

Damage: (1d8+6)[8]
Damage 2: (1d8+6)[10]

Add +1 to each of the attacks and damages if the boar is within 30 ft.

['Neath the Moon]

Both arrows strike the boar, which roars in pain. It turns, and stares directly at the ranger.

Spoiler: Image: The Wounded Dire Boar

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Or go HERE

Suddenly, the boar charges forth to strike at Dynadin! Tramping through the thin underbrush, it lashes out with its tusks at the hunter.

Spoiler: The Attack

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The boar is charging you, which gives it a +2 on the attack:
(1d20+14)[28]
Damage roll:
(1d8+12)[17]

EDIT: Oh, and Point-Blank Shot did apply.

[Haluesen]

Dynadin reeled from the strong hit, a long gash torn along his side from the sharp tusk. With a low grunt of pain he cast aside his bow, certain it wouldn't come in handy at this point. But the pain didn't break his focus from him, and he drew his unwieldy blade with the same look of driven purpose. With a roar he lashed recklessly at the boar in a hopefully crushing downward strike.

Spoiler: Rolls

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Striking with his sword after discarding his bow to free his hands quicker, and striking with a Power Attack.
Attack: (1d20+7)[13]
Damage: (1d10+16)[25]

Crit Confirmation if Needed: (1d20+7)[11]
Extra Damage: (1d10+16)[25]

['Neath the Moon]

The sturdy blade strikes the boar just before it can dodge. The dire beast is unfazed, despite the grim wound, and its tusks scythe towards the ranger yet again.

Spoiler: rolls

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Attack: (1d20+12)[23]
Damage: (1d8+12)[15]

[Haluesen]

By now Dynadin was heavily injured. He was bleeding from 2 large wounds and having a hard time keeping his focus at all. Either he could push onward and hope to kill the fearsome boar before it killed him, or attempt to flee. He hated the idea of a wasted effort but he figured he had to try to end this. With another yell of effort he hefted his sword for another long strike.

Spoiler: Rolls...hope I succeed!

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Attack: (1d20+7)[25]
Damage: (1d10+16)[17]

Possible Crit Confirm: (1d20+7)[17]
Crit Damage: (1d10+16)[22]

[Breitheamh]

Branid takes another look at the map and conjures up the memory of the crystal pendant. He focuses on it, studying it for a moment to the exclusion of all else. Then he takes out a piece of parchment and his quillpen, quickly jotting down a few notes to help him remember this location. He takes stock of his landmarks, and then heads down the tunnel toward the light. His excitement is overflowing behind his eyes, and he devotes all his energy to keeping himself calm and collected.

Calm yourself, Branid. You cannot let this go to your head. This could be another dead end. Just stay calm. You are a scholar, not the little boy you were when you began this journey... He continues his inner monologue, trying to convince himself to remain astute.

As he enters the cavern full of crystals, and the light pulses all around him, he gasps. He cannot hold in the joy anymore. Suddenly he is just a young boy again, feeling the warmth of the sun, delighted by the beauty of the light.

['Neath the Moon]

The ranger sidesteps the boar. Swing his sword down and around, he strikes the beast in the throat, and the blade sinks deeply in. It tumbles to the ground with a heavy thud and a choking gurgle.

Suddenly, from behind him, Dynadin hears a voice say, Need any help with that? An elf, clad in a simple buckskin tunic and a heavy green cloak, approaches from the woods nearby. Her hair is dark, her eyes of an indeterminate greenish hue, and a large and grisly burn scar marks the bottom half of her right cheek. She holds up a large skinning knife, still in its sheath.
M'name's Ambarnor.

Spoiler: Image: Ambarnor

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The lights of the crystals glimmers in the dark, and as Branid enters, the light he carries is reflected and amplified, making each crystal shine with white light. The chamber contains a small pool at the end of the little gully with small shining pebbles beneath its surface. Even the normal stone seems to catch bits of light and send it forth in a dim sparkle. There appear to be two tunnels on the other side of the pool.

Spoiler: Image: The Chamber of Crystals

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Spoiler: Image and info on the stones

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In the event that he uses his artificer's monocle on any of the stones, Branid will find the following:

Spoiler: Stats

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The stones make all spells with the light descriptor effectively two levels higher for the purposes of counteracting magical darkness. They take up no body slot, and only function for the person who removes them from the cave. Mostly they are a curiosity, but they have some potential use, circumstantially.

[Breitheamh]

Branid barely has the presence of mind to cast a cantrip to determine if the crystals are magical, but he manages to channel the arcane energy, and, feeling the presence of the magic in the light crystals, he giddily dashes over to the pool, plunging his hand into the cool water and scooping up several pebbles. He adjusts the lens on his face, closing his right eye and allowing the monocle to translate the raw arcane presence into specific properties.

Once he feels that he understands the power of the crystals, Branid takes out his notes again and quickly writes down a description of the stones and his findings on their abilities. Grasping the glass ball at his side, he sends it a quick mental command to get brighter. The light illuminates the tunnels at the back of the cavern, and Branid pulls out a coin, flips it, takes a deep breath, and begins to walk down the tunnel on his right.

He takes a few steps, then, thinking for a moment, calculating the timing of the beginning of his journey to his arrival at the crystals, and remembering the time of day. He sighs, give one last longing look at the tunnels, and turns to head back to the little town. He'll get some rest, prepare himself for his journey, and give it a real go first thing tomorrow.

Spoiler: Mechanics

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Casting Detect Magic and using Artificer's Monocle to determine crystal properties.

[Haluesen]

He nodded a bit and pulled his blade from the large beast, panting a bit from the exertion of the hunt. "It's good to meet you. I'm Dynadin. And yes, perhaps I could use some assistance." He sat on the ground near the boar and took some simple bandages from his pack, working on binding the wounds on his side and stomach. "So Ambarnor, how long have you been around here? Did you see the conclusion of that?" he spoke while he worked on himself. After being sure that his injuries were taken care of, he worked his arrows out of the dire boar carefully; they'd already taken enough out of the meat. He calmly waited for an answer from Ambarnor.

[Nettlekid]

Yorick tilted back on the hind two legs of his chair, the bell on his hat jingling slightly as he stopped himself from going too far as he hooked the table with his foot. Letting the tip of his cap hang in his view, he absentmindedly bobbed the bauble back and forth as he thought to himself. He had just finished a decently hearty supper, made all the more bearable by a healthy dose of that spice Prestidigitation that he had cast a half-hour ago, and was looking forward to a dinner he hoped soon to come. However, as he mulled over his mug of mead, he regretfully admitted to himself that his coin purse had far too little shine in it since his last large performance perhaps a month prior. Truthfully, he would prefer not to be in a town like this. It's charming enough, quaint one might call it, but that's rather the problem with it. A low-key trading hub village is a center for commerce but it would take Dallah Thaun's own luck to run into anyone of note. That is to say, it's great if you already know people and are building a base, but not so much if you're trying to meet anyone new and starting from scratch.

Now, Yorick wouldn't normally be wasting his time here if he had other places to be. But, well, he didn't really have anywhere else to be. More's the pity. But he had heard tale of Fey folk in the nearby area, offering games and prizes for those who seek them out. The prize was interesting enough, and Yorick could think of dozens of ways a magical ball could be used in his shows, outshining his Unseen Servant and maybe even Prestidigitation's more meager uses. But the real prize in Yorick's mind was to familiarize himself with the Fey folk. What kind of Fey are there in the world? Beautiful women that melt into the water or grow into the trees, right? Tireless spirits that feast and throw festivals for days? Ancient minds who never forget a favor or a debt? THOSE are the kinds of creatures that he wants to meet.

Meeting them would be a challenge in and of itself, though. How do you contact Fey? Just walk into the forest and keep going until you're lost? Find a ring of mushrooms and dance naked inside it? Yorick hadn't the first clue. So, what better to do than pick the brains of people who might be a little more illuminated than he. His first thought was to look at the bartender and the local yokels jabbering. But no, that's too forward, too direct, too obvious. But, he mused, the two outsiders might be another story. He didn't know where they were from, but by their baggage it wasn't nearby. They likely wouldn't know the rumor that had brought him here. But if perchance anyone who did know was privy, they'd tip their hand when not asked directly.

Time to make the magic happen, Yorick smiled. His Prestidigitation spell was still active, and it always served him well in the past. He gave himself a small push with his foot under the table to jostle him backward only slightly.
"WHOA!"
With a contrived yelp, the Tallfellow Halfling let the chair rock forward from the backswing. He fell out of it, rolled right under the table to the sound of clattering pots and shattering dishes (of which there were none, it was only his Prestidigitation accompaniment), and sprang to his feet on the other side. Ideally, he'd be in front of the pair of supposed travelers by the end of it, and if all went well have the eye and ear of anyone who'd care to pay attention. Hopefully the bartender would be keen-eyed enough to notice nothing actually broken.

"My word, Keepers Three preserve me! I do beg pardon for the interruption good sir, dear ma'am. Please believe I am not such a clumsy fool; indeed, I would say I am a surefooted and steady fool! My mind was merely muddled. For you see, dear hearts, are you from these parts? Oh what a silly question to ask, your baggage suggests that you are, as I, a wanderer. The dark folds of your cloaks are not like that which I have seen in a long time since. From whence do you hail, if I may be so bold as to ask? I ask this only because I wonder if you, as I, have heard the tales and the legends they say come from this very town."
At this he waved his fingers, evoking a faint glissando and letting a thin line of sparkling dust drop from his fingertips and float through the air. In the dust suspended in midair he began to draw trees, and figures of what he imagined Fey looked like. His drawings were fairly simple, a bit like hieroglyphics.
"They say there are spirit folk who walk in these woods. Beings of mercy and malice, contempt and conviviality, they walk the land and sea and sky as immortal and timeless. I have heard legends of these folk. They are lighthearted with minds unlike ours, and they often hold great powers beyond our understanding. I have heard of some such whose beauty is so fierce as fire that one scornful gaze in the eyes of man not pure of heart will burn him out and blind him forever! So imagine my surprise when I saw a young woman, beautiful beyond compare, sitting just across the room from me, and how fearful I was when I saw a light, bright as the sun itself, eclipse every image in my vision. I thought 'This is it! The legends are true, and this beautiful spirit is the last thing I will ever see!' But my fears were without substance, for the light in my eye? It was my hat!"
At this, Yorick waved one hand to disperse the drawing dust, and caused his bauble to bounce with a jingle and flash with the reflected light of the afternoon sun. He also magicked into existence a small paper flower, which he extended to the young woman with the auburn hair.
"Perhaps you are not a Nymph, or perhaps you are a merciful one! I wonder if the legends are true at all. Entertain a fool, what sights have you beheld on your path?"

Spoiler

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Perform: Comedy check in general, to ease whoever is listening and to boost the moods of these two in particular: (1d20+13)[33]
And I'll expend one use of my Jester's Performance to attempt to Fascinate the old man with the auburn beard, and the innkeeper (in the hopes that if the innkeeper is interested in me, it'll make the patrons talking with her interested in me as well.) That's a DC 15 Will save, mind-affecting yadda yadda.

['Neath the Moon]

Branid begins his journey back through the caverns. It is not particularly difficult. Mostly he just has to follow the small stream back to the mine, and then follow the map. It takes a while, though.

Spoiler: One more thing...

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Make a listen check.

---

Ambarnor sets to skinning the boar with swift, deft cuts. As she works, she says, 'Depends what you mean by "here." These woods... Longer than most of the trees. If you're asking how much of your fight I saw; just the end of it. And I don't interfere in a hunt. A friend came to me with word of a wounded dire boar, headed my way. I came to keep it from the fine folks to the south.' She turns from her work to look at Dynadin, 'You with the Guild? They're usually who gets called on to deal with one of these lot in civilized areas. Good people, generally.'

---

All eyes are drawn to Yorick. The innkeeper's eyes fixate on him with an intensity beyond those of the others, but the balding man is no more affected than anyone else. He tenses slightly, and glances protectively at his ward. The girl giggles with a somewhat childlike glee, blushing slightly at the complement, and pushes her hair out of her face on one side, revealing an ear that comes to a point. Close up, you can see other elvish features as well: cheekbones much higher than those of the man, and eyes green as spring leaves, whereas the man's are a dark grey-blue. They are clearly related however. Both have the same downturned nose and dimpled cheeks. It's hard to tell just how old she is, because of her elf blood, but in human terms she looks to be about seventeen.

She smiles, accepting the flower, and replies with the sort of lilt many of the kindlier nobles employ when speaking with a jester in performance. 'You are too kind,' she says, 'My father and I are returning home; more whither, whence, and wherefore would bore you. I recall a tale of these parts, yes. The Nixies of Greenstone Creek. I saw one once, you know, when we passed this way before, on our way to-'
The bearded man interjects, 'Isobella.' He says it softly, but clearly in warning. He looks at you with mistrust.

Spoiler: And a roll for you!

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Make a Knowledge (Nobility and Royalty) check. You can already tell that the girl, at least, has spent some time at court.

[Nettlekid]

"Ah! Such grace! Such charm! A greater pleasure I have not known than to make your acquaintance, Miss...Isobella, was it? Hah, no word issued from those fair lips could ever bore a humble soul as myself."
Yorick gave a slight glance to the young woman's guardian, be he her father or uncle or what-have-you. His brow furrowed. The name 'Isobella' rang a bell. They were related, and he was certainly guarded and cautious. Cautious toward him specifically, or of the harms of the world that might befall his ward? Overprotective type, likely, though to be fair Yorick acknowledged he knew nothing of their travels.
"I mean no disrespect, good sir, nor cause for alarm. I am only an entertainer, a little more than a vagrant and a little less than a vagabond. The tales of travelers are music to my ears and, if the stories of adventurers prove daring and thrilling enough, silver in my pocket when recounted at a lord's court. I say...speaking of nobles...The name Isobella echoes in my mind, and hearsay drives my mind to a distinguished figure of wisdom and strength, a Duke...no, no, Lord, Lord Roderick, was it? His sons are paragons, so it is said, and his granddaughter beautiful beyond compare. I believe you share her name, m'dear, as well as her stunning visage."
Yeah, they fit the description. It was pretty unlikely to run into a pair of nobles, but stranger things have happened. Yorick tried to remember as best as he could about the family line, but not a lot came to mind. Something about a fallen guard, and family tragedy. This man ought to be Corwin Roderick, if he had his names matched to the right faces. A human, charmed by the beauty of the elves no doubt. How strange it would have been for him to age and wither so soon before his wife, if she had been around to see him. Perhaps better not to go into it.

Wait, what had she just said?
"Pardon me...Did you just say that you caught a glimpse of the Fey folk?"
Dammit, what's a Nixie? Is that like a Pixie? Nymph+Pixie=Nixie? One's bigger than the other, I think...I wish I knew this.
"I've been dying to know of them, but I suppose they only show themselves to creatures that walk the line between divinity and mortality, the angelic kind that they can relate to. What hope does a fool like myself have compared to a being like you? Tell me more of your encounter. Did you speak to them? Did they leave anything for you as a jest or a token? I am utterly enraptured."

['Neath the Moon]

The man tenses up, and glances about worriedly when you begin speaking about the Rodericks, relaxing somewhat when you change the subject without going further into it. Isobella, looking somewhat concerned herself, says, 'Well... I only saw them for a minute or two. I think they're more likely to show themselves to foreigners. They watch over the locals, and want to make sure any potential threats know about them. He never talked to me, but the one I saw dropped,' she pauses, and pulls at a silver chain on her neckline, revealing a faintly glowing stone set in silver and shimmering with colors from beneath the dark travel cloak, 'this.'

---

Branid, meawhile, is still going through the caves. He hears the tiniest of splashes, and a quiet drip. Probably just a stone falling in the stream, and the cave is full of dripping sounds; it's a cave, after all. He continues, with a vague feeling of something behind him.

Spoiler

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The roll wasn't enough to hear anything, but it seemed like a natural 20 deserved some recognition.

[Breitheamh]

Feeling that quiet chill run down his back, Branid quickly whips around, thrusting his Glowing Orb above his head and mentally commading it to get brighter, all in one motion.

[Nettlekid]

Yorick was absolutely dazzled by the multicolored gemstone. Of course he also played up the wonder for the sake of his dear audience, but a great deal of his interest was genuine. It was an absolutely stunning piece of jewelry, and even in the light of the afternoon sun through the windows he could make out a faint glow. What would it look like at night? And, more importantly, what was making it glow? Magic?
"How downright enchanting. Truly a piece fit for otherworldly creatures. How strange that it is only outsiders and potential threats who see the people of the forest. I know not whether to be flattered or embarrassed that they must have seen me as so little of a threat that I did not encounter one myself. Now, about this gemstone...You say the Nixie dropped it, you mean by accident or as a gift? Were it an accident, I wonder if it is right for mortal creatures as we to have it. Though, if I may be so bold to say, your forest eyes and sunlight skin paint you as a shade less mortal than the rest of us. Perhaps that is why you are fit to have it. What causes that supernatural shine? If I may, I am if only a little trained in the humblest of arcane arts, but..."
Yorick took a step back so as not to startle the pair, and waved his hands mystically. Anyone with the slightest magical training would see that he was casting Detect Magic. It meant dropping his Fascinate, but that hadn't seemed to be making a great difference.

Spoiler

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By the way, what are the locals at the bar doing? I was being fairly loud, and the bartender had been Fascinated, so did the locals react in any way? Once she mentions that the Fey protect the village, I'm going to be more interested in what the locals may know about these half-legend/half-well-known spirits.

Also, I don't have an Artificer's Monocle, so I'm just doing the plain three rounds of Detect Magic to look at all magical auras, starting with the stone but also at anything else that happens to be magic. My Spellcraft modifier is a mere +4, so I probably won't recognize the spell school of much.

['Neath the Moon]

As Branid's eyes adjust to the sudden change in light, he sees a short, slim shadowy form, just on the very edge of the circle of light, dart away quickly. There is a larger splash than before, and a few ripples appear in the stream, their edges glistening in the magical light.

---

With the innkeeper released, you are no longer the sole focus of the inn, though you are still getting a lot strange looks.

Smiling widely now at the complements, Isobella tells you, 'We used to live in Aldamar, Aspendale's sister-town to the West. When the mines around here were still open, a lot of the elves who now live there worked on them. The way they tell the story, Aspendale has been guarded by the fey ever since a dispute about the mine was cleared up. The Nixies gave stones like these' she says, gesturing again at her pendant, as a sign of goodwill. I don't know if this one was a gift, or if he just dropped it by mistake. I was a child at the time. It seemed like a gift.

Spoiler: Detect Magic

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In the first round, you detect the presence of magic. In the second, you notice six auras, the strongest of which is a strong aura. In the third, you see that the stone, and the travelers' cloaks and boots all have faint auras, while a hidden aura, inside one of their packs, is the strong one. You can make a spellcraft check for the stone, another for the cloaks, and maybe one for the boots if you back up (you need line of sight to do so) to determine school of magic, if you wish.

[Breitheamh]

Branid squints beyond the edge of the light, trying to get a better glimpse of the shadowy figure. His eyes dart all around the tunnel, trying to take in each detail. "Hello?!" he calls, hoping the blur he barely saw isn't dangerous. After a few seconds of waiting for a response of some kind, he turns back again and continues walking, consciously trying to listen for footsteps.

Spoiler: Throwing another Listen Check

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(1d20-5)[6]
and a spot for good measure (1d20-5)[13]

[Nettlekid]

Spoiler

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Spellcraft for the stone and whatever powerful aura is coming from their bag. I'm not too interested in the cloaks and boots; travelers have items that make travelling easier, after all.
For stone: (1d20+4)[15]
For mystery item: (1d20+4)[21]

"How fascinating. So mysterious." Yorick mulled. He considered sitting down, but decided that it would be too personal too soon to join them. Stay lower than the people you're sucking up to, if only for the better vantage point.
"I must admit my ignorance as to the history of the area. When there's so much on tomorrow's horizon, it's difficult to find time to look at all the yesterdays. I wonder why the Fey claim this land and its people as under their protection. But it seems that you find yourself with formidable guardians indeed."
This didn't seem to be going anywhere fast. Yorick had been surprised when something much stronger than what he assumed would be a powerfully magical stone showed up on his magical radar, and it was drawing his curiosity, though he didn't want to drop the matter of the Fey.
"I'm sorry, I'm surely boring you by prattling on, and you've answered more of an impudent fool's questions than I deserve. If I may ask but a single one more. You, though from far off, appear to know this locale far better than I. You make mention of mines that the Fey have an interest in. Might I ask where I can find these mines? I wouldn't dream of asking you to take me there yourself, that would be far too impudent. After all, if you were to meet the Fey again, I'm sure you would want it to be on your own terms to speak with them and thank them for their gift and whatever boon they have so subtly bestowed upon you. No, I would be quite alright on my own, and I'm sure I would be safe even without their blessing and guidance as you have."

Spoiler

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Bluff check to try to do like...Not like the whole Epic Bluff Suggestion thing, but just sort of like make her want to offer her help by saying that I don't need it, but perhaps sounding slightly unsure. That kind of Bluff.
(1d20+11)[25]

[Haluesen]

Dynadin listened to her for awhile while sitting against a tree and shook his head quickly. "No I'm not, though I could imagine how I would seem that way. I was a hunter for my village growing up, but then events in my life took me to other paths. Though I never really stopped trying to be a man of the wilderness. Hunting comes more naturally to me than anything else." He looked through his pack for a bit then back up at Ambarnor quizzically. "I take you are not overly fond of the people to the south."

['Neath the Moon]

So far as Branid can tell, he is not being followed further. He is able, without any particular difficulty, to find his way back through the mines.

Spoiler

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Normally, an intelligence, Survival or knowledge (Dungeoneering) check would be required to figure your way through, but Branid has a map.

---

Isobella, addressing her father, says, 'Let's go with. It'll be fun!'
He argues against it, briefly, before giving in, 'You're too much like your mother. I don't want to lose you too. Very well; since I can't convince you otherwise, I'm coming with.'
The two travelers stand, revealing well-made and finely decorated longswords belted under their cloaks. Corwin pays the innkeeper (for you as well.) The girl then says, Alright. So. Where are the mines? Corwin shrugs.

Spoiler: ...Yeah

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They're not actually from this town, remember. They come from (and are now returning to) a town about twenty miles to the west, along the same road. They know some of the local legends better than you might, but they aren't locals, and don't know everything about it.

---

Ambarnor grins at Dynadin's query, 'Ah, on the contrary, they are like my family. I watch over the little town as best I can. I bless their fields, and keep the wild things from their homes. In return, they do not cut these woods, and they let me live in peace. Perhaps I am sometimes dismissive of them, and they of me. We're still like kin, and they would come to my aid just as readily as I would to theirs...'

She approaches the wounded ranger, and says, 'On the subject of aid, you look in bad shape, though you're handling the pain well. I have great respect for one who can endure pain. Let me heal the worst of it.

Ambarnor's hand twitches a few times, making odd shapes, and she mutters something in an archaic dialect of Elven.

Spoiler: The Healing

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You could refuse it, for some reason, but I'll assume you don't. It feels like a small burn, on each open wound, and then they are well again.

Hitpoints healed: (4d8+10)[25]

[Haluesen]

The knight nodded after Ambarnor spoke and gave a light smile. He grunted as he felt the light burning of the healing but took it much as the same as his previous injuries. "Thank you kindly Ambarnor. That boar was a tough one, but I could not give up the hunt when it felt as close as it was to finished." He stretched a few times and felt the injury on his side, which was not fully removed but at least now a much shallower cut and not bleeding profusely. "Pain is a bother naturally, and as many others I am not above it. The energy and rush of combat though helps my mind to be able to handle such things, for a time. I am honored to have your respect."

With that he stood up and looked over the downed boar. "So then fellow hunter, I ask what happens from this point. Mostly with the remaining meat from the boar, and whether you will be staying here in your home or would follow me to town. I must return soon enough, though I suppose I'm not in any large hurry." Dynadin, now of clearer mind after the healing, went to business to get it concluded.

[Breitheamh]

As Branid comes out of the mines, he lets his orb darken, and he drinks in the fading sunlight. He closes his eyes and takes several deep breaths. Then, with a hand in his pocket resting on his new discovery and one last longing look at the caves, he heads down the road back to the little town.

"Tomorrow," he whispers to himself as he smiles and walks cheerfully down the road. The brief feeling of someone following him had gone away, and he was feeling the thrill of excitement and discovery bubbling from within and spilling over from tomorrow.

[Nettlekid]

"Oh! I would be honored and humbled to have your assistance dear lady, good sir. Now...I am afraid I am quite a stranger to these parts, and you told me these stories of long ago, but I do not expect you to know the locale too concretely. I know not of these mines, nor wherever the Fey frequent. Perhaps we might enlist the aid of the locals, to whom the legends ring with truth?"
Yorick turns with a jingle and waves to the patrons of the bar, who until recently had been eyeing him as his routine had captivated the bartender. He pauses for a moment, eyeing them for a few seconds. With a small cartwheel he tumbled over, leaning against the bar that's a little too tall for him. He gave a little pratfall, putting his weight on one foot and "slipping" backward, knocking his head on the bar and lying on the ground. With a loud voice he called out, pointing one hand in the air.
"Innkeeper! I'd like to buy a round of drinks for the patrons here, but with that round I offer a proposition. I am a foreigner to this land, drawn by the allure of the legend of spirits of the land. My friends here have advised me that the Fey folk first appeared to this village in defense of a stone quarry or a mine of some kind, and it may be that the mine in question is key to the folk. So I ask you this, friends. If you are of this town and know the legends and yearn to find truth in what you've heard, truth that is out there but elusive, please come along! A local eye can see what weary travelers overlook.
Are there any among you who wish to learn of the Fey?
Are there any among you that will lead the way?
Are there any who thirst but don't want to pay?
Then I'm the best friend you'll meet today!"
He tosses a few silver coins in the air, enough to pay for a drink for each of the four patrons. He is still lying on the floor.

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When he eyed the other patrons, he's using his continuing Detect Magic to scope the four patrons and the bartender out. If any have surprisingly high auras he'll use another Jester's Performance to Fascinate (which will end Detect Magic), targeting the one with a high aura and the person that one was talking to most. If none have a weirdly high aura, he'll target two random locals.

['Neath the Moon]

Ambarnor whistles loudly, and a large brown bear appears shortly thereafter. Its left flank is marked by a large blaze of white fur. The druid mutters a word, holding up her hand, and the bear increases massively in size. 'We'll at least be able to get the meat to my home. I've got a cart you can borrow. Butcher should be willing to make a deal, or the Forester's Guild if you can convince 'em to buy from you without joining up. Worse to worst, you'll have to give it away or deal with literal ton of rotting meat.'

---

The woods by the path seem a little more alive than when Branid passed this way before. Then again, it's getting dark now, and things come out when the sun goes down. A rustle in the underbrush, an eerie call from a tree.
Whispers from the stream.
The voices are hard to make out. Between the trickle of water and the language they speak (it's Sylvan, but an odd, burbling trickling hissing dialect) you can only make out so much. If you didn't know Sylvan already, it wouldn't even sound like speech, just the chattering chirps of frogs and the flowing water.
'...seen...cave of lights...not any further...'
'If it goes not...visit...'
'...the wing-kin... mud...'
The second voice stifles a giggle, '...its covering...yes...'

The voices cease, following two soft blubs, and Branid hears nothing more along the way.

---

The innkeeper says, 'Quentin, didn't you lead some newcomer down to the mines just earlier today?'

One of the patrons, a sturdily-built old man who is almost certainly Quentin, says to you, 'Aye, some wizard, always talking 'bout lights and colors, came by looking for the shiny rocks. He's not returned my map as yet. I know the layout of those tunnels well enough, but I'd rather not go in there so late in the day. If you've got to go tonight, you can find a way into those mines anywhere two hundred paces either way along the stream to the east. Can't miss 'em; they're big square holes. Now, how's about them drinks?'

You notice they didn't mention anything about the fey.

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Quentin has an item with a faint aura around his neck, under his shirt. The innkeeper has something with a moderate aura underneath the bar, as well as a small row of about six faint auras.

[Breitheamh]

Finally, Branid reenters the little town, cheerfully smiling at the children playing and the people starting to close up shop for the day. He heads down the street to the inn, where he can smell the evening meal, giving his stomach a reason to growl.

He enters the inn and quietly sits down at the bar, humming a light tune and waiting for the innkeeper to serve him. He spots the man who loaned the map of the mines and heads over to him.

"Excuse me, sir. I just wanted to thank you for lending me your map of the mines. I found what I was looking for, but if you're agreeable, I'd like at least another day with your map. I think there is something hidden deeper in there that can reveal some of the answers I seek." He tries to give the man a serious, business-like look, but his eyes shine with childlike wonder at the thought of the secrets in the caverns beyond the mines.

[Nettlekid]

At first Yorick grimaces inwardly at the arrival of a new patron, especially when he was getting somewhere. He had spent such a while priming the audience that it would be troublesome to get this newcomer caught up with what was going on here and what he hoped to gain, on the off chance that this guy could actually be of aid. But that inward grimace vanished when the newcomer quite quickly proved that he would be. He gave a little shift of his weight, and hopped up from his flat-on-his-back position to look Branid in the eye.

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Sense Motive on Branid: (1d20+8)[14]
I want to see if this is low, in case Yorick thoroughly misjudges Branid's type.

"My word, my word, my good word indeed! The rays of today's sun flicker out below the horizon but luck smiles upon me brighter than all the stars in the sky. First to meet such an esteemed pair, and now I take it by your address that you are the very wizard my friend Quentin was just speaking to me about! Lights and colors and shining stones, he said, and found what you were looking for, you said! Well, that just piques my curiosity, I said, I said. For you see, I've developed quite a curiosity about those mines you've traveled, for tell of the vivacious and gregarious creatures said to live within. It is far too late in the day now to explore, but fortunately you seem to have gotten the jump on us already! Please, sit a spell, and regale us with your exploits. I have a few questions. First of all, though, a promise is a promise and I am a man of my word, and of many others'! Innkeeper, a round for all, if you would be so kind!"

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Just let me know how much to take off; I expect about 2 silver for five mugs of mead (one for Branid too, but not for Corwin and Isobella (too refined, you know, can't have them drinking the local stuff) but let me know if that's off. Also, you said before that Corwin paid for me as well, was that for dinner or for a room? If it was just dinner, I'd like to add
"And I shall require a room, so that we may set off at early light after a good rest. Dear Sir, good Miss, I do not know if you have already found accommodations but it would be my honor to pay for your stay here at this establishment. It's the least I can do for what you have already done and what I do hope you may do for me."

"Now, Sir Wizard, those questions of mine. First of all, do you know the tales of the mines? They say that Fey folk came to defend the town regarding them, and those Fey are the current guardians of the land. Correct me if I speak a lie, gentlemen! I am quite interested in meeting creatures of such spiritual repute, and those mines seem like the best place to begin. My second question is that dear Quentin here made mention of your interest in shining stones, and you said you found what you were looking for. It is much to ask, but did you perchance bring a sample of the stone from the mines with you? Because curiously it may not be the first I have seen today, and much would be gained from seeing if your type and the one I or any exquisitely beautiful creatures in attendance this evening may have laid eyes on are one in the same."

[Breitheamh]

A smile gradually forms on Branid's face as the halfling rants in his mock courtly speech. By the time Yorick is finished, the green-eyed wizard is practically laughing.

"My, my, good sir!" Branid begins, attempting his own version of the jester's courtly manner, "You are quick of tongue, and quicker of wit, to have discovered me so quickly. Quickly! Lean closer..." he says conspiratorially as he hunches over, his hand going to his pocket, his eyes shifting around the room, the smile still bright on his lips. Then suddenly, he whips his hand out of his pocket, holding aloft one of the crystals from the cave.

"Behold! This is the crystal I've sought and got with naught but a..." Branid purses his lips for a moment, trying to think of something to keep his rhyme going, then holds up a finger excitedly.

Aha! Ahem. For many years the world I've trot..." his face falls, and he finishes resignedly, "-ted. My goodness, that's much harder than you make it seem." He gives an impressed shake of his head. "Anyway, here is the stone I found in the caves, but you said something before that, about Fey?" Branid's eyes widen as realization hits him.

His grin suddenly widens, and his eyes brighten as he nods his head vigorously. "Yes!" he exclaims. "That must have been it! I believe, sir, we may be able to be very helpful to one another. You see, as I was navigating the tunnels, I caught a glimpse of movement which seemed to be some shadowy figure dancing just outside the reach of my light. Then, passing a brook on the road back to town, I heard a snippet of conversation in some difficult dialect of Sylvan. I paid it little heed, as my head was still giddy from the thrill of discovery, but now..." he trails off, thinking on the little piece that he heard. "I think they may have been talking about me!" He throws his hands high in the air and dances a little celebratory jig, having abandoned all attempts at playing the austere wizard.

[Nettlekid]

I may be the jester, but I don't think I'm the fool in this room. I suppose not all who devote themselves to the arcane arts are the disciplined folks they are suggested to be.
Yorick's face did not give away his mild annoyance at Branid's attempt to be humorous, but he was curious about the crystal Branid was holding.
"How uncanny. May I?" Yorick asked, and without waiting for a reply delicately grabbed the stone from Branid's hand. He held it to the lamplight, then cupped it inside his hands to see the change in illumination. It was certainly glowing, and bore strong resemblance to the stone Isobella had shown him a short while ago. Although it was beautiful, his interest in it was decreasing as it proved itself not to be the one-of-a-kind rarity he had initially suspected Isobella's gem to be. A gift of the Fey, borne of spirit magic made manifest, that would be something indeed. A shiny stone tripped over by a foolish Wizard? Not quite the stuff of legend. But at least it was a trail to follow.

"There is more to this than meets the eye, dear friends. It may be a simple enough stone, but there is magic which infuses it. Truly, it is unlike anything I have laid eyes on before, save perhaps for one. But tell me all of you gathered here, dear innkeeper and good Sir Quentin et al, you seem far less enthused than I to bear witness to the mage's findings. Am I truly so readily entertained? Or perhaps it is that I am not of these parts, and mystic stones infused with magic of the spirit world is so commonplace as to render you downright blasé to yet another of these. I should inspect each lantern I come across thoroughly that they do not hide gems like these or better. Tell me, is this what the mines are for? Do you seek out stones like these? For it's a wonder then that our arcane companion here was able to unearth one so readily. Unless...Well, one of two similar scenarios unfolds itself in my mind. The former is that this is a low-grade common stone, and there are those of much higher quality deep within the earth. The latter is that this isn't in fact the aim of the excavations at all, though perhaps it is tangentially related or is a byproduct, and the real treasure has yet to be seen. Please, be so good as to educate me. Exactly what is it that is being dug for in the mines, and what is it that the Fey folk of this region want you to find to the point of protecting the mines for your sake?"

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Sense Motive (1d20+8)[22] to see people's reactions, either if they've never really thought about this before or if there's some secret they're trying to keep or if they're just so totally bored by it that they don't care.

['Neath the Moon]

Quentin, with a look suggesting he's told this tale before, explains, 'Folks come through here every so often, asking after these stones,' he reaches into his shirt and pulls out a a leather cord with a stone similar in appearance and light to the other two, though larger and crystalline, while the others are rounded by water. Branid recognizes it as one of the crystals that grow on the cavern walls, 'or sometimes after the Good Folk in the crick. Some's honest, just looking for a mystery. Others are seeking treasure, and who can blame 'em? Not a one found any, though, 'cept these gems. Lots of the mine families have a few, and sometimes they wash into the stream. They're nothing special. Pretty, don't get me wrong; lots of colours, and good if you're lost in the dark. Not bright enough for lamps, though, son.' The old man tucks the gem away, and continues, 'The mines were for just plain old iron. 'Course, they haven't been open for near on fifty years. I'm sixty-eight, and the last human alive who worked in those tunnels. My father was the one who dug out my gem; he was one of the workers who first met our watery neighbours. I've only seen the Nixies a few times, but the way Pa told it his crew dug their way into the caverns, ended up in the court of some Faerie lord and lady. I guess that offended them, and they challenged the miners to some sort of game. Pa couldn't really describe what the game was, but he knows he lost, and so did the rest of the crew. After that, the mine flooded, and the fey started playing pranks on us. Then one day the druid said she'd deal with it. Turned into a fish, went into the mines, and when she came back the pranks stopped. The mines drained, and people got back to work. You want to know more, maybe you can try asking her. Her name's Ambarnor, and she lives near here. Just follow the fence east until you get to Brownbear Gate. Her house is all that's on the road that way; she had the gate built special when we put up the fence. Don't be surprised if she turns you away, though. She does for most.'