[IC] The Crucible

[Armored Walrus]

It's noon on Fireday, the 12th day of Palesun. You couldn't have arrived any sooner - the cataclysmic earthquake that created Bastard Sword pass a year and a half ago didn't do anything about the yards of snow that choke it for most of the year. Calan, your mountain guide, deemed it propitious to set out on the last day of Rainmoot, it being good luck to start a journey on Lastday, and his judgement proved sound enough.

Thinking back, you can still smell the sharp resin of the dark green firs, nearly black under their heavy coats of slushy snow. More than one of you experienced an unwelcome, surprise shower when a careless step bent a bough and dowsed you in half-melted snow, icy water tricking down your back no matter how tightly you had pulled your coat and tied your scarf.

It was a harsh change to emerge a week or so later into the soft, dewy warmth of the sweeping grassland. Though still covered in a shaggy, yellow mass of last year's blades, the earthy scent of new growth assaulted nostrils that had grown used to the rare, crisp air of the upper altitudes. You walked with the caravan of garrison supplies, carting grains, peas and roots for planting, and ground flour for baking, weapon and lamp oil, bolts of canvas for tents and uniforms, and all manner of supplies to keep the budding "town" of Hardholm-by-the-Mere from starvation and ruin for another year.

Frankly, it's a relief to see it still standing. Many back home thought you would arrive to find bleached bones and fat natives. But the town, as it were, still stands before you on the crest of the Hardholm. Nearest you a broad, rocky ford churns even the slow-moving Stag into choppy rapids. The Stag straining at its banks with the spring melt from the Dragon's Fang range 50 miles or more to the north.

The bank on the far side of the river bristles with wooden stakes, a few of the local halflings rest their backs against them as they lounge in the soft spring grass, catgut fishing lines tied to their toes and trailing in the river. Beyond this meager defense a few squat riverstone huts mark the tiny native village, quickly being dwarfed by dozens of tents and a single, large wooden inn that have been erected on the flat, lower two-thirds of the island. Up on the crest of the Hardholm, a stout wooden palisade crowns the rocky crag, a single watchtower thrusting above its ten foot high wall. Though formidable-looking, you know there can't be more than a couple dozen soldiers barracked up there - with a few more ready to join them from the ranks of your caravan.

A slight breeze spits a light drizzle into your face as you gaze upon the place. It's not quite what you may have expected, but for now, this is home.

Spoiler: Tabletop

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Each of you has heard a few rumors about the town, or the surrounding area.

Spoiler: Shaena Dogear

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Your trip across the great plains, glimpsing the scouts of the halfling tribes peering at you from the distance, not to mention those who served as escorts and guides to the caravan itself, had you worried, and nearly believing what you had been told about the Hamstringers. Their severe expressions, wiry frames and uncouth hairstyles made it easy to credit a tale of a warrior society of halfling assassins. The Hamstringers supposedly are served by all the halflings in the Crucible, either as their informants, or as killers. But seeing the stout, satisfied, homely fisherfolk on the river bank sets your mind at ease. Surely these are simply tall tales, or the result of a cultural misunderstanding.

Spoiler: Iselshera Elkian

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Your thirst for knowledge led you to speak with anyone you could about your destination, including any guards or drivers in your caravan who had made the trip before, and even the savage halflings that served as escorts and guides. You've learned many things on the voyage, some of which are hard to credit. You hear that there are giants who have a stronghold to the north, near the source of the Stag, and a great gem at its heart turns any blade it touches into a wicked weapon of great power, but at great cost to the bearer. You hear that should you tramp into the Slog - the vast swamp that covers the land west of Hardholm-by-the-Mere, one must bury at least 10 gold crowns in the muck or be cursed, but the Slog is also said to be home to an oracle of mysterious wonder. Finally, you hear that Hardholm itself rests on a burial mound of a clan of giants.

Spoiler: Atas Ebonbark

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Having sort of fallen into this job, and interested in more esoteric, rather than commercial or arcane, concerns, you haven't done much to seek out knowledge of your destination. But people talk, and you absorb most of what happens around you. As you gaze at the burgeoning town before you, some of these tales spring to your mind. One caravan guard mentioned in passing that, when he left the boom town last autumn, it seemed that the local whores were actually gathering power in town, many of them objecting to conditions in the camp and negotiating directly with the commander of the garrison regarding making laws about how they could be treated, their right to say no to a client, and other unheard-of stipulations. Another told a tale of the dead in the swamps around Hardholm rising at night and plaguing anyone unfortunate enough to lay outside of the palisade. Your instinct tells you this tale may have been exaggerated, or made up whole cloth, the better to get a laugh at the expense of newcomers.

Spoiler: Kyra Ambershield

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Tengar Ambershield didn't raise his daughter to mess around with books and scrolls. Your fact-gathering for this mission has been more pragmatic. Here's what you know about the tactical situation around Hardholm-by-the-Mere. Some early settlers have been trying to take advantage of the fertile, loamy soil of the grassland to the northeast of the settlement, but they've been harried by a number of problems, chief among them occasional raids by goblins and kobolds, who seem to emerge from the dense forest you passed on your way to town. They also speak of "scaly chickens" that have caused a ruckus, and even a casualty or two, when they show up to scratch at the newly-planted seeds. Moreover, you've heard that the swamp to the west, known as The Slog, is the home of several tribes of lizardfolk. They are not friendly toward each other, and some could be fairweather allies. Though you doubt you'll ever utter the phrase, you did hear that "Skeewisss" is lizardspeak for "We seek no conflict."

Spoiler: Mohander Caladresh

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Atrius tried to share his grand scheme with you, but he found poor soil on which to grow his intellectual dreams. So he contented himself with drumming into you by rote a few key points he wanted you to make sure to remember. Spouting some gibberish about elemental confluences and some other words you hadn't heard before, he settled down to mark some coordinates on a map. These included a mountain, thrusting up alone from the surrounding hills and covered in dead, blasted trees; a sprawling badland, home to dervishes and dust devils; an idyllic pool, clear and unspoiled in the midst of the rank swamp; and a broken land, blasted with vents the spout noxious, heated gasses into the air. On a more practical note, he mentioned that although some of the tribes of halflings were hospitable enough to the newcomers, offering to escort and guide them in exchange for their weapons of hard steel and their magic items, many other tribes are hostile to trade, and would take little provocation to begin preying on the trade routes, or to spoil any attempts at building up waystations or other protections. He imparted that, though each tribe speaks their own, slightly different dialect, their language is not unlike that spoken by rustic halflings in their holes in your own lands.

[miinstrel]

Mohan Spoiler: Status Box Show N Wood Elf, Rogue 1 Size: M | Speed: 35 (25) ft. | Senses: Passive Perception 17, Darkvision 60 ft Initiative: +4 | Armor Class: 15 | Hit Dice: 1d8+2 | Hit Points: 10/10 Affected by: None | Conditions: None Mohander hefts his pack off the wagon as they come into town, separating his personal effects from the supplies lest they be unloaded and carted off by the locals who were beginning to gather to see what goods and news were arriving in town after so many weeks of isolation. It's heavier than he remembered when he loaded it on back near Verun; the freedom had allowed him to move with ease through the pass, though the chill of snow caught him all the same. There was no escaping the cold there, and here the wet seemed to cling desperately to every surface. Mohander scans the surroundings before they enter the gate, taking note of the mountains to the north and other landmarks Atrius had noted, trying to coordinate his visual surroundings with the map in his breast pocket. "It's smaller than I expected," he says coolly, more matter-of-fact than disappointed. As everyone moves closer there's a hint of disgust to his visage as he looks out at the boggy far bank marking the entrance to the Slog. He shifts his boot against the mud. "We should probably secure a room if we can. Tents won't be pleasant with how damp the ground is here."

[kladams707]

As they reach the town of Hardholm, Shaena shivers, half in delight to see spring begin to arrive and the other simply happy to see a winter thaw knowing she won't likely be buried under one more pile of snow. Being shorter than the others, she oft found herself covered up to her chin or higher underneath the cold, crystalline water. While unloading her own items, she overheard Mohander's comment. That's what you lot said about me, Shaena said, smiling almost jovially. But enough about that. Where do you suppose we'll find a room, she says asking no one in particular.

[Azktor]

Kyra Ambershield

Kyra was getting more and more anxious during the traveling time, most of the time she would walk right besides the caravan just because be sitting around doing nothing in a wagon for a week was something she didn't want to do. As soon as the caravan arrive to Hardholm she exclaimed to the ones near her "Finally! We are here! I was about to punch someone in the face, just to start a fight and have something to do!" It is hard to say if she is joking or not, probably not.

She looks at Mohander and Shaena saying "I don't really care where we stay, I'm not staying in town for more than a day or two! There are goblins" you notice the anger in her eyes while she mentions goblins "kolbolts, giant chickens and lizardfolks around this area and I'm ready to kill them! Besides there is a lot of money to be made here, so let's not waste too much time sitting around doing nothing." She would then grab her gears and start walking around in town, knowing the place.

[Armored Walrus]

Frigid water churns about your ankles (Shaena's knees) as you stride across the rocky ford. Only a few of the wagons seem to be headed into town - deliveries for the garrison for the most part, from the looks of them - while a few, bearing hopeful families with farming implements, barrels of seed, and a nervous, hopeful look on their faces, begin to tail off to the north. The rest begin to circle on the grass on the east side of the river.

As you head into town, a press of people head the other way, angling to be the first to trade. The townsfolk seem prosperous enough, though most of a bit of a hungry look to them. You gather it's been a long, lean winter, but not a deadly one.

[Theoboldi]

With a faint hint of a smile, Atas pulls his backpack of the wagon, quickly wrapping it around his shoulder. Compared to some of the others, the tall, tone wood-elf is not carrying very much with him, only possessing the bear necessities of survival. His relative poverty is clear, not just by this, but also by the cloak and leathers he wears on his body. Once, they must have been fine, and their elven craftsmanship is still clearly visible, but the time on the road has made them worn and covered with stitches and patches.

Somewhat removed from the immediate discussion, he takes a moment to stretch his limbs, eager to shake off the tiredness that has set in from the long walk. "You could have just asked if you wanted to spar." he finally says, half-joking. "I am looking forward to trying my hand against this land's beasts. Still, let's see if we can find an inn somewhere around here. I doubt any of the locals will take in a group of strangers, especially right after winter."

Stepping calmly through the icy waters, he follows the others into town, eyes opened for where the other caravan members are heading. Talking was never his strong point, and he feels more comfortable simply observing.

[miinstrel]

Mohander Caladresh Spoiler: Status Box Show N Wood Elf, Rogue 1 Size: M | Speed: 35 (25) ft. | Senses: Passive Perception 17, Darkvision 60 ft Initiative: +4 | Armor Class: 15 | Hit Dice: 1d8+2 | Hit Points: 10/10 Affected by: None | Conditions: None Before separating from the homesteaders, Mohan talks to them a bit about their plans to work the land and offers and advice he's able to get them off to a good start. Best times to plant, build close to the river but not in a flood zone, and other miscellaneous tips from his time on the planet. "What you lack in size you more than make up for in personality, my diminutive friend. I've heard not all your kind in this land are so agreeable." Mohan replies to Shaena with a smile, nodding toward the fishing folk. Her conversation during the trip had brightened his dour beginning to the journey. Addressing the rest of them as well he adds with a gesture, "That building there seems the best start. I agree with Kyra, we shouldn't stay long. Remember though: we're here for a reason, and it's not hunting goblins and lizards," Mohan cautions with indirect disapproval of the barbarian's bloodlust, however justified it may be. He follows her into town making his way toward the large structure to see what sort of folk it held within.

[kladams707]

Shaena looks up to Mohanda and replies Likely but a rumor. And if not, I bet those who have attempted just didn't have the right translator. Maybe someone of my stature is just what's needed. It's pretty clear she's using the turn of phrase as a bit of a pun. "That said, some rest before we go further into the unknown yonder is definitely called for. Then I can catalog the goblins and lizards while Kyra cracks 'em open."

[Azktor]

Kyra Ambershield

Somewhat removed from the immediate discussion, he takes a moment to stretch his limbs, eager to shake off the tiredness that has set in from the long walk. "You could have just asked if you wanted to spar." he finally says, half-joking. "I am looking forward to trying my hand against this land's beasts. Still, let's see if we can find an inn somewhere around here. I doubt any of the locals will take in a group of strangers, especially right after winter."

She gets enthusiastic about the ideia, she been wanting to ask someone for a while "We could do it tomorrow morning! My axe-swinging-muscle does not like being idle for too long!"

"That building there seems the best start. I agree with Kyra, we shouldn't stay long. Remember though: we're here for a reason, and it's not hunting goblins and lizards," Mohan cautions with indirect disapproval of the barbarian's bloodlust, however justified it may be. He follows her into town making his way toward the large structure to see what sort of folk it held within.

Kyra looks at Mohander a bit annoyed by his assumptions "You can say that about youself, but my main reason to be here is to find new challenges and improve myself to be a worth member of the Ambershield clan! The gold is just an extra."

"That said, some rest before we go further into the unknown yonder is definitely called for. Then I can catalog the goblins and lizards while Kyra cracks 'em open."

"That I can do just fine!" Kyra agrees with Shaena.

[Armored Walrus]

Squelching through the mud up what serves as a street, you pass open-faced tents with crudely fashioned wooden displays. Charcoal scrawls on the transom of each tent opening declares what type of business is being done there. One tent deals in ointments and nostrums, one holds a butcher elbow deep in the carcass of a deer, some chickens and eggs are being bartered for here, and some foraged plants. Here and there a halfling stands in the open, the day's catch spread out on a blanket before them.

[Theoboldi]

Atas throws Kyra a smirk. He was surprised to find someone with similar ideals to his own when he first met her, and still he welcomes her presence. Even though she could stand to learn a bit of restraint.

"Let's not get too heated yet." he offers. "Tomorrow, we'll need our strength." His glance is directed mostly at Mohander, giving the fellow elf a look of sympathy.

After that, he simply walks alongside the group, quietly observing the stalls. There are animals and plants on display here that he has never seen, and it's good to know what is and isn't edible in these lands. Though perhaps the locals are not the best people to trust in these matters, despite what Shaena says about those rumours?

[kladams707]

Shaena yawns a bit as they continue to thr only posdible place serving as an inn. Her short legs tried to keep pace with the others but she was certainly not built for the speed of the taller folk. She quietly pulled put a piece of parchment, trying to list some of the less recognizable flora & fauna she had observed. Realizing the near impossibility of doing so juggling quill, scroll, and inkwell, she put the former two back while carrying parchment so thr ink could dry.

[Azktor]

Kyra Ambershield

"Fine!" Kyra exclaims as she keeps walking a bit frustrated, but thinking "I hope I'm not grouping up with a bunch of cowards."

She then start heading towards the wooden building hoping it is not too expensive, she don't really have the coins (9sp) to spend at the moment, so she might even need to sleep outside, not that she really minds doing so.

[miinstrel]

Mohan Spoiler: Status Box Show N Wood Elf, Rogue 1 Size: M | Speed: 35 (25) ft. | Senses: Passive Perception 17, Darkvision 60 ft Initiative: +4 | Armor Class: 15 | Hit Dice: 1d8+2 | Hit Points: 10/10 Affected by: None | Conditions: None Mohander follows the hulking woman into the inn and surveys the folks within. Selecting an outdoorsy looking type he offers to buy them a drink in exchange for some conversation about what dangers to be expected around here beyond the general "goblins & kobolds & lizards oh my" and ask if they know where the pristine pool in the Slog might be located.

[Armored Walrus]

Having walked about a quarter mile through the now deserted market area you stood before a three story, rectangular wooden building, an ill-fashioned wooden sign that vaguely looks like a mug of frothy ale hanging above the batwing doors, cheerful music coming from inside.

A stern-faced, muscular half-orc stood on guard outside, his gruff warning giving you a glimpse into just how far from civilization you've come.
"Yer new in town, so I'll tell ya once; if ya gotta fight in there, use yer fists, or take it outside. No killing inside the tavern."

He flips you a nonchalant salute, crosses his arms, and leans back against the rough timbers, resuming his watch.

Inside, the tavern is gloomy, dusty and mostly empty. A skinny, nervous-looking elf mutters to himself in a booth off to the left, while a pair of dirty laborers sit at a table near the bar. A dwarf, deep in his cups is tended to by a small girl who seems to be the day waitress here. Standing on a stool at the bar is a handsome dwarf with a luxurious beard, playing a tune on his lute but getting no attention. He wears a stiffly patient expression while he strums. Behind the bar stands a gnome in a white apron, a thick, white handlebar mustache, and a faded red beret.

Glancing around, Mohander sees the most signs of the outdoors on the two laborers, and strikes up a conversation. His offer to buy drinks is enthusiastically accepted, and he easily steers the conversation to what lies beyond the small town.

"A pristine pool? Ain't ever heard a that, but yer right abowt dere bein' more'n just kobolds 'n goblins out dere. Jake, c'm'ere once. Tell'em what yer cousin saw over inna swamp, what? Two, tree days before 'e died?"

Jake takes a dirty finger out of his ear and wipes it absent-mindedly on his pants leg, "Oh yah, my cousin? He was out dere diggin' fer iron ore (he says it like eye-er-nore) up inna hills nort' a town, ya know? He says 'e was takin' a leak one day, lookin' out across da river, his claim sits onna west side a da hill, don'tchya know, an' he seen dis ting come walkin' outta da swamp. He says da ting looks straight at him from across da river, an' it looks just like one a them wart hogs. But it ain't no warthog, he says. He says da ting's got a huuge body like a big shaggy horse, only wit a hump, ya know? An' it's got a long tail wit a big bony ball at da end. He says he can smell it clear across the river, an' ya know tha Stayg's a good couple hunnerd yards acrosst dere. But he says it smells just like a skunk rottin' in a swamp." Jake lifts his newly-replenished mug at Mohander in salute and takes a big swill.

"No one goes very far inna da swamp, don'tchya know. Even da "adventurers" don't go much past where dey can still see da hardholm. If yer new aroun' here y'should probly be careful about goin' owt dat way."

[kladams707]

Even thhrough the din, Shaena's ears perk up as the two talk to Mohnader about this weird monster. She rushes over, pulling out a parchment and her ink & quill once more. So it's as shaggy as a horse as well as large as one? How does it fight? Does it use that tail-ball? What other strange creatures have you or others seen?

[Armored Walrus]

Jake looks nonplussed at the rapid questioning of the halfling, "Well, ma'am, 'e din't fight it. It was clear acrosst the Stayg from 'im. But, yah, I'd say she was shaggier'n a horse. As fer seein' other stuff, well, ya know..." He glances meaningfully at his nearly empty horn of the inn's sour ale.

[kladams707]

Jake looks nonplussed at the rapid questioning of the halfling, "Well, ma'am, 'e din't fight it. It was clear acrosst the Stayg from 'im. But, yah, I'd say she was shaggier'n a horse. As fer seein' other stuff, well, ya know..." He glances meaningfully at his nearly empty horn of the inn's sour ale.

Shaena smiles brightly in understanding. She produces a silver piece and yells "Two more rounds for these fine gentlemen." Once the drinks are delivered, she prods them once more. "So, about those other creatures...?"

[Theoboldi]

Satisfied that Mohander and Shaena are handling the talking and information-gathering, Atas opts to mingle elsewhere. He's not sure how much faith he has in the story that they are hearing from the villagers, but it's better than what he would find out, in any case.

As such, he heads for the bar, sitting down nearby the well-groomed dwarf. He listens to the music, reminded of the songs he himself used to play back home. It's a shame he's had to leave his instrument behind when he became an exile. In turn, his attention to the dwarf's playing is all the more focused now.

Should he have a chance to do so, he will attempt to strike up a discussion about music, interested in what the locals like to hear and eager to share what he has learned in his homeland.

[Azktor]

Kyra Ambershield

Kyra nods to the guard thinking "I doubt this place will have anything worth of using my Axe. My fists are more than enough."

She then follows the other, listening with attention the part about the monsters and the swamp "Now these are worth of my Axe!" and start getting antsy about the perpective of exploring those places and facing those creatures. But she decides to let the others do the talking.

Also, she does starting looking around for something to eat while the others talk. (if there is a menu or some sort of waiter, or does it looks like she have to go and ask)

[Armored Walrus]

Mohander and Shaena

Jake perks up at the mention of two more rounds. The human girls takes Shaena's silver and returns with her hands full of ale-filled horn mugs.

"Well, one thing I kin tell ya izzat up inna nort' dere's a hill all covered in dead trees. Nuttin' grows on dat hill at all."

His companion jumps in with, "Don't ferget the chicken lizards owt by da famers. Dey're havin' a tough time gettin' goin' out dere 'cause da damn tings come scratch all da seed outta da ground."

"Oh, yah, an' dere's da centaurs out onna grassland, an' dey say da woods out east is fulla werewolves. Plus I hear out inna swamp, if ya go two t'ree days in, dere's a hag dat kin tell yer future, but fer payment she takes yer eyes. If someone kin kill 'er though, she's got a lotta gold berried in her cave."

The two go on in this way for some time while Shaena takes her notes.

Spoiler: Mohander

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While they start out confident enough, you can tell after the first few items they are now just spouting tales they've heard, regardless of the source. Shaena appears to take them at face value, but your keen insight into people allows you to see that they don't necessarily believe everything they're telling your companion.

Atas

The bard preens under your attention a bit and gives you a smile as he finishes the song. "By the look yer givin' me, either ye play or I'm cuddling yer best lass here on me lap. That one were 'The Wind in the Leaves' but I bet they call it somethin' else where yer from. Name's Klemm, by the way, pleased ta make yer acquaintance." The dwarf holds out his hand in greeting.

Kyra

Kyra snags the girl's attention between rounds for Jake and his companion. She looks up at you with a bright smile, "You're a big one ain't you? What'll it be? We got today's catch of trout, some turtle soup, and maybe a root or two to go with it. Bread's hard to come by, so none of that. For drinks we have mead, but it's dear, a silver a pint, ale's cheap but it tastes like horse piss. If you're planning on taking rooms, breakfast comes with the room. Don't let Tordif tell you otherwise. By the way, my name's Marryn, welcome to the Foaming Flagon."

[miinstrel]

Mohan Spoiler: Status Box Show N Wood Elf, Rogue 1 Size: M | Speed: 35 (25) ft. | Senses: Passive Perception 17, Darkvision 60 ft Initiative: +4 | Armor Class: 15 | Hit Dice: 1d8+2 | Hit Points: 10/10 Affected by: None | Conditions: None Mohander listens intently, making a few small abbreviations on the map as they talk. After scrawling "Chick Liz" outside of town, he takes a good hard look at the pair and settles back into his chair, folding the map and returning it to his pocket. He chats with them a bit longer about life in Hardholm. When he finally stands and bids them adieu, he turns back and says, "One more question. Does anything ever attack this settlement? Can't help but notice the defensive spikes set against the Slog side of the island." Satisfied with their responses he wishes them a good evening and joins Issy and Kyra at their table to share what he learned. Speaking quietly he explains, "Could be they're not the right folk to talk to, but they don't know much about the area. Mostly rumors and hearsay about centaurs, werefolk, and hags." He lays the map out for them all to see. "Sounds like the farmers around here are having some trouble with local beasties ripping up their crops. That's not good for Hardholm's survival. Otherwise it seems the closest spots Atrius mentioned are either in the Slog," he circles the swamp with his finger and then points to a hill to the north, "Or this mountain of dead trees. Hard to say how far the mountain is, and the swamp might be difficult to navigate. Folks don't go out of sight of the Mere, afraid of what might live further in." Spoiler: OOC Show Am I able to gauge roughly how big the Slog is or how far away the dead tree mountain is? Locals didn't mention the badlands or gas vents so I'm presuming those are further away from Hardholm.

[Theoboldi]

Atas at first only stares at the hand offered to him, glaring almost, before hesitantly taking it. Sharing such personal contact with a stranger in a social context is strange and uncomfortable to Atas, and it shows in how fidgety he is about the whole thing. He gets it over with as quickly as possible.

Then, however, he relaxes again, and clears his throat. "W-Well met, Klemm. I am Atas, and yes, I do dabble. My family has something of a tradition with the dulcimer.

That melody does remind me of an old ballad called 'Spring's Whisper', now that you mention it. Though I can barely recognize the chorus."

He gives the bar a short lookover, adding "It's a shame, though, that nobody seems to be listening. Is there more of a crowd at dusk?"

[kladams707]

Mohander and Shaena

Jake perks up at the mention of two more rounds. The human girls takes Shaena's silver and returns with her hands full of ale-filled horn mugs.

"Well, one thing I kin tell ya izzat up inna nort' dere's a hill all covered in dead trees. Nuttin' grows on dat hill at all."

His companion jumps in with, "Don't ferget the chicken lizards owt by da famers. Dey're havin' a tough time gettin' goin' out dere 'cause da damn tings come scratch all da seed outta da ground."

"Oh, yah, an' dere's da centaurs out onna grassland, an' dey say da woods out east is fulla werewolves. Plus I hear out inna swamp, if ya go two t'ree days in, dere's a hag dat kin tell yer future, but fer payment she takes yer eyes. If someone kin kill 'er though, she's got a lotta gold berried in her cave."

The two go on in this way for some time while Shaena takes her notes.

Shaena furiously scribbled down furiously everything the man said as fast as she could. She didn't care about the veracity of these stories, they could be confirmed later. To the untrained naked eye, it looked like a coded cipher. But to her, her notes were quite legible and easily read. Being too distracted with this newfound information, she let Mohander ask about any attacks.

[Armored Walrus]

When he finally stands and bids them adieu, he turns back and says, "One more question. Does anything ever attack this settlement? Can't help but notice the defensive spikes set against the Slog side of the island."

"Yep, ringed in spikes, aint' we? Well, let's see, we had a troll or two one time, stalkin' around on da swamp side. Den dere were dem wooves dis past winter. O' course we're always worried about halflin's 'n goblin's 'n kobolds, but dey don't bother us much any more, since we gave 'em a pretty good whoopin' last fall."

Spoiler: OOC

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No one, to your knowledge, has braved the Slog all the way to the other side. As far as the hill with the dead trees, Jake can put that roughly where it belongs on your map, it's a good 30 or 40 miles north, just shy of the Dragon's Fang mountain range that encloses the Crucible.

He gives the bar a short lookover, adding "It's a shame, though, that nobody seems to be listening. Is there more of a crowd at dusk?"

Klemm gives you a bemused smile at the awkward handshake, then shrugs it off. "Aye, the place picks up at night, and isn't so quiet most days, either. It's the comin' o' the caravan, first o' the year, that's pulled everyone away. Don't let Tordif's sour look foll ye, he'll make back his custom and then some tonight, when folks come back wi' some coins from trade." Tordif rolls his eyes at Klemm, and continues wiping down the bar with a wet rag.

[Azktor]

Kyra Ambershield

Kyra

Kyra snags the girl's attention between rounds for Jake and his companion. She looks up at you with a bright smile, "You're a big one ain't you? What'll it be? We got today's catch of trout, some turtle soup, and maybe a root or two to go with it. Bread's hard to come by, so none of that. For drinks we have mead, but it's dear, a silver a pint, ale's cheap but it tastes like horse piss. If you're planning on taking rooms, breakfast comes with the room. Don't let Tordif tell you otherwise. By the way, my name's Marryn, welcome to the Foaming Flagon."

Kyra smiles, taking that as a compliment "That is because you did not saw my father - Tengar Ambershield - he is 6'5" and 280 pounds and strong as an ogre [20 Str]! One time when I was younger we were traveling around a mountainous region when a avalanche begin, he used his shield to block rocks - as big as a boar - that were comming towards me and my brother."

As soon as she mentions her brother she abruptly changes subject becoming more serious "I will want some trout. And I think we are taking a couple rooms with breakfast for the night. My name is Kyra, nice to meet you Marryn."

[Theoboldi]

Klemm gives you a bemused smile at the awkward handshake, then shrugs it off. "Aye, the place picks up at night, and isn't so quiet most days, either. It's the comin' o' the caravan, first o' the year, that's pulled everyone away. Don't let Tordif's sour look foll ye, he'll make back his custom and then some tonight, when folks come back wi' some coins from trade." Tordif rolls his eyes at Klemm, and continues wiping down the bar with a wet rag.

Atas throws a curious glance at Tordif, wondering if that man always looks like someone just stepped on his toe, but decides not to voice that question. "Best of luck to him then, I suppose." he says instead before turning back to the bard.

"What do you plan on singing for these folk tonight? Something light, 'Maiden from the Golden Fields', perhaps? I imagine they're already getting their fill of excitement and adventure." The elf scratches his chin for a moment, pondering. "This must be a good place to find inspiration, is it not? I've certainly heard there are a great many wondrous creatures and locations here."

[kladams707]

Once Jake finishes telling her and Mohander the information about the various possible creatures and the attacks that have occurred, she puts her ink and pen away. Letting the parchment dry a for a bit, she bows and says "Thank you for your candor. It's been lovely." With that she hops down from the stool she had been standing on and joins Kyra. After asking what is on the menu, the halfling simply shrugs, gestures toward Kyra and says "I'll have what she's having. We can talk about all the creatures she might get to fight.".

[Armored Walrus]

"What do you plan on singing for these folk tonight? Something light, 'Maiden from the Golden Fields', perhaps? I imagine they're already getting their fill of excitement and adventure." The elf scratches his chin for a moment, pondering. "This must be a good place to find inspiration, is it not? I've certainly heard there are a great many wondrous creatures and locations here."

"'Maiden from the Golden Fields,' eh? Ye really are from far off. We call that one 'Dancing Lass' where I'm from. But then that ain't so close either. As fer inspiration, aye, no lack o' heroic deeds bein' done round here, at least ta hear it told. Beasties abound. Out in th' swamp ye have yer giant insect an' scorpions, man-eatin' fish, giant lizards bearin' bone weapons, and who knows what else. Trolls, too, most like. Some say there be giants t' the north, but not until yer almost all the way up in the mountains. Out on the plain ye got yer kobolds and goblins of course, but where don't ye have 'em? Belike the tales of centaurs don't have no truth to 'em, but they're said to live out there, as well. South ye got the badlands, as some say is haunted. Sure, no shortage o' inspiration." Klemm gives you a wry look and goes back to playing.

[Armored Walrus]

"I will want some trout. And I think we are taking a couple rooms with breakfast for the night. My name is Kyra, nice to meet you Marryn."

Marryn gives the leather-clad woman a shy smile. "Thank you, ma'am." She glances at Shaena, "Two trouts then, anything to drink? If you don't fancy ale or mead, there's water, or we might have a glass or two of today's milk left." She turns to Mohander, "Anything for you, Master Elf?"

After taking your order, noting down anything Mohander might order, she heads behind the bar and has a quick discussion with Tordif, then heads back to the kitchen.

The gnome stuffs his bar rag in his belt, gives his mustache a quick twist, and walks up to the party. "If 'tis rooms you do be after, you do be just in time. Such rooms as we boast be snatched up quickly this time o' the year. Won't lie, me, quarters in the Foaming Flagon do no be had for ary a copper. Five silver hawks an eve they be, an' no less. If you do be interested in a bargain, offer me this full month in advance an' I'll give some consideration."