NPX: Gates of the Shadowkeep

[Dr._Bob]

You decide that it would be best to abandon the cloaks and horses before anyone gets a closer look at you and realize that you are not snaketongues. You leave the horses tied to fence posts in groups of two or three so as not to attract undue attention.

Splitting up, you quickly explore the small town. Midvale is split north-south and east-west into four quadrants by two main roads. Despite the relatively small size of the town (you estimate a population of about 3,000) you find three inns, each identified by a painted picture hanging from its rafters:

The Cross Keys - located at the town center, large and well-illuminated

The Hand and Star - located by the north gate, small and shabby

The Three Arrows - located by the east gate, a cluster of three adjacent buildings, the first floor of the middle building is a lively tavern

[Erikkin]

Fizahn:

"There are several things that we need to determine before we choose an inn. First off, how much money do we have? Does anyone have any money, and if so, is it the right currency? Maybe we should have tried to sell one of the horses. Anyway, we also need to figure out which inn most often caters to Vargans. We'll be less likely to stick out if we're somewhere that the warmbloods usually are. We're probably going to end up at the small dingy one. Those types of inns are usually where people who are trying to hide end up."

[Koji]

Kazz

Fascinated by the townspeople, Kazz takes plenty of time to study them, looking to discern warmbloods from snaketongues, and to see what economic roles they fill.

From time to time, she becomes aware of the feeling of the kris in her boot, and the persistent image of a snaking river of light flowing from a bottomless ocean of power fills her head.

"Ah! Fizahn, we took a box from Radizzek, but never opened it. It might hold some coins that will answer our questions," she says.

((Streetwise--trying to get a feel for these people to see how we stick out, and what can be done to help us blend in 1d20+9=29))

[Callos_DeTerran]

Callos

It seemed almost curious to be treated so...respectfully by people for once and not just because of the message that they bore either. Sure, it came from their cloaks and what the people thought they were but it was a heady feeling that almost made him want to hold unto the cloaks until he realized just how poor of an idea that'd be.

So, like the others, he removed the cloak before traveling too much with them on but a burning curiousity had begun to fester in his mind and he had to satisfy it. "We have other problems besides money Fizahn. You work on that problem but I need to do some research. I'll meet you lot at the Three Arrows later on tonight when I'm done."

He seemed absent-minded, locked away in his thoughts as he wandered off into the town in search of a library or perhaps a temple that he could inquire about the gods of this world to see how close it was to Toril.

Spoiler

Show

Going to try and discover as much as I can from various sources. General information really, can try and find specifics later on.

Arcana: (1d20+9)[24]
Religion: (1d20+9)[17]
History: (1d20+9)[14]

[kuja.girl]

Tiriel

Tiriel gladly abandons the cloak with the snake clasp, balling it up before tossing it down an alleyway. It reminds her a little too much of the snake cult they'd found in the "old world" to be comfortable. The horse she's more reluctant to leave but she sees the logic behind the choice. "I don't have any money. I guess I could sell the extra sword if I had too."

[Naleh]

Retay

Retay, beginning to think quite lowly of snakes and snake-people, is glad to be rid of his cloak. He is less happy to part with the horses, which remind him of his distant home.

He watches Callos leaving. "Research...?" After a short hesitation, he nods to the rest of the party and follows the necromancer into the night.

[blackfox]

Ginevra

Ginevra shivers as she removes the snaketongue cloak. She rifles through her pockets, looking for loose change. "I might have a few gold on me somewhere..." She watches Callos, silently agreeing with Retay.

"Should we go check out the Three Arrows, then? If we need to, I can sneak around to check out which inn has the most warmbloods..."

[Tanaar]

Darros

Darros stayed silent for much of the trip down the mountain and into town, plagued by doubt and questions of morality concerning the snaketongues. Is goodness absolute? Are these creatures really the moral authority of this world? What of the 'irredeemables' of my own? Can they be saved?

As the group enters the village, the high elf gladly doffs the borrowed cloak. "The Three Arrows, aye. I have some coins, which can be easily explained as being from a distant kingdom. Gold is still gold. Perhaps it is better if I and the more unusual of us remain in the inn, while the humans and others that might better blend in try to find information."

[Dr._Bob]

Callos separates from the group in search of answers to his many unspoken questions. Unbidden, Retay tags along, perhaps to protect him, perhaps because he doesn't trust him, perhaps both.

The two of them wander the dark streets of Midvale looking for a source of information - a friendly face, a library, a temple, or perhaps a guildhouse. Every building appears to be locked and darkened at this hour and, to their surprise, they find only a single temple, a three story windowless ziggurat. Serpentine carvings suggest its devotion to Zehir.

For Callos, even the absence of helpful sources of information is information itself. There appear to be no other gods worshiped within the town's walls though the population itself clearly includes humans.

The few people wandering the town in the middle of the night give the slight necromancer and burly warrior a wide berth, but between the full moon and occasional lanterns there is enough light to see that the townsfolk appear to be human.

Eventually Callos and Retay wander back to the Three Arrows to rejoin their fellows where they find the others sharing a long table in the back of the tavern.

The eyes of the other late-night patrons of the tavern, all human, give your group appraising side-long glances but refuse to make eye contact. The sudden silence brought on by your arrival quickly gives way to a low murmuring and the clinking of pewter mugs, punctuated by occasional low laughter as the atmosphere in the tavern returns to normal. Those of you with sharper ears hear the whispered word "Vargans" on the lips of several.

A thin girl with sunken eyes and stringy hair brings you ale and bread, curtseying as she does so. The food and drink are passable, especially given how hungry everyone is. As the warm, crusty bread and sweet ale disappear, more is brought to your table.

Kazz takes it all in, her eyes bright with interest. There is no overt hostility here, and the lack of reaction to the presence of elves, a gnome and a tiefling suggest that the townsfolk has seen your kind before. They are content to leave you alone as long as you leave them alone it would seem.

"You are new here," a statement, not a question. An old woman in a pale green cloak leans over from an adjacent table. "Tell your fortune?" She holds out a palm with a wide toothy grin ...


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