Adventures in Vaal-Paradis IC

[Wiz0rd]

With a sound of shattering glass, an unexpected intensely brilliant light assails the new adventuring groups' eyes where they stand.

"Now-now, hold still, this will only take a moment." a nearby male, elderly voice huffed. Again, the shattering of glass and blinding light. "Gah! One of you had your-" the small voice was interrupted by another.

"It is a momentous day!" the voice was loud, authoritative and that of a woman, "It is to be forever marked on our calendars. Today will be known as Heroes' Day! As you well know, today is not a day for work or austerity. Today, we rejoice!" the mayor declared.

With a rub over sore eyes, a brilliant white fades a clear vision of the scene. The 'heroes' are standing all together, a rag-tag band displayed in front of the fortified wall of New Haven, their home they have come to know and love, perhaps, over the past few years. Though some of the merry band have traveled to New Haven in the past, or they have lived here their whole lives, each know and recognize the small fortified town very well, and truth be told, there is not much exploring to do. Everything looked as it has, and how it should, besides the new presence of decoration in the form of bunting and cloth covered tables. Though the gathered townsfolk are silent, a small musical band rests nearby. The valley is blessed by clear skies, a small gathering of whispy clouds and a cooling, refreshing breeze.

"Today, is a celebration to recognize some of the most talented, unique and interesting amongst our peoples." Zara New-Havian stands upon a small plinth and performs a sweeping gesture towards the caravan, "These citizens of New Haven ascend from being mere townsfolk, and embrace a new adventuring life. May the gods smile upon your fortunes, and may you return to New Haven with vast wealth, riches and fame. Walk with our good name and good banners, and return mighty heroes with deeds, tales and renown. You will be the envy of us all. Go and make your mark upon the world. You have all out-grown us."

"A round of applause for these brave, crazy sods!" the local tavern-keeper, Johnathan Coolwaters, yells. Within a moment the townsfolk and the adventurers acquaintances and friends erupt into a loud cheer, only echoed by the sheer cliffs of the immediate geography. The applaud fades. A robed figure walks forward, the adventurers recognize as the towns' cleric, Yesa Goodfaith.

"Our ancestors came to this place by a warm heart and the desire to improve the world. The map, the item, the ideal, this is sacred to our people and our heritage. They were struck down as innocent explorers, burnt and punished by this cruel world and we remember them."
The cleric approaches the group and reveals a highly intricate, very detailed artistic map of obvious lavishness and value. The perfectly folded ornate map was decorated with baroque, inked lines and decoration.
In the next moment, the map seemingly catches alight and begins to burn and disintegrate without movement from the priest, or the use of the flint and tinder. The breeze catching the parchment embers and tracing them across the party in a smokeless manner.
"Just as they found their own place in the world, so will you. Go with their blessing, and ours, intrepid adventurers. May you walk with positive energy, stare evil and wrongness in the eye, and hold goodness in your hearts."

With that, the robed human male steps back towards the massed townsfolk and the earlier, blinding elderly gentleman rushes forward.
"See! See! It's done! This one is for you. This one is for us! You will be pinned to our community board. You'll see!" and hastily thrusts a blackened piece of parchment towards you all.
A burned black-and-white portrait of the group, standing at the ready before the grand gate. A still-image, a moment captured forever.

"And with that, I commence your day of revelry! Let us show our heroes one final day of our hospitality before they begin their journey. Begin I say you!"

A cacophony of music, cheering, and various visual celebrations are released at all at once as each of the tables are filled with full tankards, delicious stews and various toys and games. Within moments the town truly begins an hasty, excited towns fete not normally seen apart from once a year. The townsfolk's attention has shifted from your well-meaning send-off to that of more base pleasures. The more influential members of the ceremony team seem to either withdraw from their station or to go and join the others. Those of you attached to the locality could be forgiven for feeling a pang of regret to this homely, quaint scene.

Looking between yourselves, you each share a glimpse different expression or look. Some may look concerned, others may look angry, others grinning with hope and impatience, but one thing is absolutely certain: today, tomorrow and forever-more will not be like yesterday.

Edit:

Spoiler: OOC

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OOC Thread, for rules, clarification, sheets and backstory
Pathfinder System Reference Document

[Petulantcobra]

"In the name of Gozreh, that's bright!" Izan the tall, lithe, silver skinned man muttered under his breath in his native tongue. Dressed his light leather armor worn under a traveling cloak (an outfit designed more for freedom of movement than protective properties) which constantly billows as though there was more of a breeze. With bow in hand and pack with a rolled up hammock dangling from his back Izan is excited and ready to get this show on the road.

It has been some years since Izan rid himself of the cursed coin which brought him so much misfortune. The negative memories have turned into curiosity of what other artifacts might be out there waiting for him to find.

[silly-string]

A Tiefling, red-ish skin, horns and all, and wrapped in intricately embroidered shawls and skirts, a few dull patches of stout leather poking through the colourful fabrics chuckled at the tall silver man's grumbling and strolled forwards to talk with the human holding out the picture. Soon they were embroiled in a discussion, punctuated by a flash and wosh every now and then, the parted ways with a brief hand-shake and she started back towards the rest of the party.

"Well then, who and what do we have here?" she asked addressing the silvery man. one of her hands rested on her hip above a polished horn capped with finely wrought silver caps and a pipe at the narrow end, the other hand rested on an elegantly carved and gilded piece of wood poking out of a pouch at her hip.

[Cranelotus]

"My eyes, my eyes! Confounded...parlour tricks...Clamour...darkness..." Astrid recoiled at the blinding lights and tugged her hood over her eyes, but it was caught on her horns and could not reach. She began to claw at her own eyes with her ratted white hair and then finally she used her sleeve, which was made of a soothing blue-black linen. She did not like the crowd staring at her, partially because she knew that she always appeared to be a wreck, but she succumbed to being herself after realizing she was there anyway. After all, her bag was covered in dirt - she had dragged it there rather than wore it. Ill-prepared for today, her robe was incredibly crumpled and still slightly damp from coming out of the wash. If Astrid was an ornate vase, she would be a shattered one held together with tape and frog spit.

Astrid muttered incantations under her breath, hexes and slumbers and dancing lights and the like, without any real intent to cast them. She looked over the other people in the group. She didn't really recognize any of them, as the faces of people she didn't see very often blurred with the faces of other people she didn't see very often. Originally she didn't really like talking to Izan (it was nothing personal) and as she avoided people-contact until when it was necessary, but in this instance she found him to be the only one she was really familiar with, a friend by proxy.
"Izan! Why do we have to take part in this ridiculous human spectacle?! Don't answer this, I know, I know the answer."

However despite everything that pointed otherwise, she quite fancied the idea of being an adventurer. Astrid was intelligent and she full well knew it, and although she didn't really like people, she had thoughts that she really needed to articulate. This left her in an awkward situation where she really didn't want to deal with people, but also wanted to let her thoughts be known. If only she could just walk away and leave a book in place titled "ASTRID: A MEMOIR OF", she thought to herself. Realizing that these people were to be her companions sooner or later, she deduced that she may as well talk now and let her position be known. She squinted though the cracks in her barely-open eyes and Bomi Sure-grip caught her eye.
"That child has a beard..." she said, furrowing her brow. "And I'm afraid if it's you, this tiefling, of all people, and bearded child, I've been lumped in with the misfits...I need a drink..."

[Wiz0rd]

Bomi's arms were crossed tightly, face taught with a particular brand of simmering Dwarven grimace. It was then the blinding flash came.
"Ach, me eyes man. Ye could warn a dwarf bef'er y' do that. Bastard." The dwarf wiped the dazzle and the water from his eyes with the back of his sleeve.

Those who sent their glance and gaze towards Bomi were subject to seeing a typical specimen of the Dwarven race. While certainly not small in size or build, Bomi was considerably shorter than of his companions, being at-least a foot or greater closer to the earth. While not rippling with absurd and showy muscle, Bomi maintained a hardy physique built from years of hard-labour and heavy work. His shoulders are considerably broad and rounded, his neck thick. His face was weathered, aged and dark in complexion for his age due to this industry and employment. He was not an ugly man, but not handsome, and rarely smiled. His chin, jaws and cheek wore a scruffy, thick black beard that was maintained shoddily and trimmed relatively short and shagged.

Bomi was equipped with the modified equipment of his old craft: his trusty work-apron now reinforced with chain and scales from the smithy. He donned a yellowing hard-hat helmet that he wore for destruction jobs, doing very little to cool him or his sweating brow, but granting another layer of protection to his already thick skull. The majority of this equipment lay behind him in his, now also re-purposed, cart: various tools now banded and riveted for combat use, a filled-looking, thick and old musty-smelling leather pack, and a small handful of furiously clucking caged chickens.


Glancing towards the others he sized up the rest of the group both inspecting themselves and each other, he wondered what choices he had made in his life to come to such a situation. He was about to mention something-or-other to the fancy tiefling flamework maker and the foreign speaking silvery lad when something caught his ear from beside him:

""That child has a beard..." she said, furrowing her brow. "And I'm afraid if it's you, this tiefling of all people, and bearded child, I've been lumped in with the misfits... I need a drink..."

Bomi hacks, and spits a large glob onto the ground next to the local infamous Tiefling witch, Astrid "By Moradin's hammer; bearded child?! I bloody well built yer bloody hoos'!" Bomi, rather than feeling angry or impetuous, merely put his palm to his face with a gentle thud. "Aye. Aye. I think aye'll be joinin' y' on this one. 'One for the road' they say eh?"

"Yew lot. Threw yer stuff in me cart. Ain't goin' no-where, and their ain't no point burdenin' yerself with et noaw." He lowers his voice and puts up a hand to cover it from the direction of the townsfolk. "An I dun't knew about yew, but if yous got anythin' you want to wrap up before we go, now's bein' tha time t' do it. Ih don't wanna' say ne-longer than I haf' to.
I'm goin' to grab me pint, then I'm goin' t' grab some supplies. Come with me if ut pleases y'."
He looks at you each for a moment, anticipating a response.

[benjaminrussell]

Krizira found it a little uncomfortable to have so many people watching her at once, but she reminded herself that they were all friends, family, or at the least acquaintances. No-one here was a bandit looking to attack the caravan, or a target, so it didn't matter that she was very visible. In fact they were expecting her to be there, so it would be weird if she was hidden. She shot a small smile at her adopted father when he caught her eye, and his answering grin served to dispel any lingering nerves, especially when he lifted up Emily, the baker's little girl, and set her on his shoulders so she could see what was going on.

She was dressed ready to set out on the adventure, wearing her leather armour under her trademark hooded coat - the dark grey one that she'd originally bought in a town she'd long forgotten the name of, and had spent many hours since while travelling adding intricate embroidery to. It was black thread on dark grey material so the decoration wasn't obvious from far away, but that suited her perfectly, despite how many times Trianna the tailor had tried to convince her to add gold to the design to complement her brown skin. She couldn't well sneak up on someone if she sparkled as she moved. Her long black hair was tucked behind her pointed ears and braided, and she had a rucksack slung over her shoulders with her crossbow securely attached to it.

Then it was time for the announcement. Krizira fought not to blink as the group had their image captured, but once it was over she blinked rapidly several times to try and get the glare out of her eyes. Of course it didn't work though, so she was left with twin spots of light distorting her vision. She stood quietly as the various people spoke, eyeing her fellow adventurers out of the corner of her eye. She knew most of them to some extent, either from having had dealings with them in the past or just from seeing them around town, but she was curious to know more about them all. It would certainly be different to travelling with the caravan.

"I need to say goodbye to my family, but knowing Uncle Tomas they're probably congregating near the tavern, so I'll join you," She told Bomi, rolling her eyes when she mentioned her adopted uncle. She carefully removed her rucksack and set it in Bomi's cart, making sure her crossbow didn't get caught on anything in the process. Normally she wouldn't leave her things unattended like that, but everyone in the town was trustworthy enough not to touch the packs of the adventuring party.
"Thanks."

[folkiefaerie]

(So, I will draw a picture of Higvi soon, but she is a very frail-looking young woman with deathly white skin, grey hair and yellow eyes.)

Higvi stood with her hands laced in front of her, smiling at the dispersing crowd. Her pack was resting against her feet, the gleaming steel shield propped artfully in front of its torn front pocket. She had held her morningstar for the first part of the ceremony, but after her arm went dead she had pretended to need to lace her boot and left the weapon in the sand. Now she wished she hadn't been so weak. They were all looking at her. Mr Horfax from the granary was looking at her, and her old boss, Miss Dreethian-Lock from the Post Office, and the balding drunkard who called her 'that whooping bitch'. All looking at her with, she thought, what must be admiration. This was it. She was an adventurer. An explorer. If she did this job right, who knew? She might even become an actual, proper, real-life emissary.

She tried to will the inch-high platform of air beneath her feet higher as she pushed herself up onto tiptoes, her back straightened and her chest puffed out. She hoped that her blue robe would flash the crowd with impressive peacock-sheen it had given her in the mirror at Borlot's Bargains. Truthfully though, the fabric was heavy and scratchy and her stained cotton smock was growing wet with nervous sweat.

Reaching back with shaking hands, she tightened the thick braid of her neatly-plaited grey hair and turned towards the rest of her caravan. She sighed. The rest of the caravan didn't look nervous at all. In fact, most of them didn't even look like adventurers. For one thing Serianna was there. It was rumoured she did strange experiments, and the deliveries Higvi had made to her hut in the crafter's corner didn't do anything to help concerns. Then Bomi Jr, who was pleasant enough but had a thick Dwarven accent. It took Higvi a few moments to decipher what he was trying to say and it got even worse after a few drinks. She often found herself making excuses to him during daylight hours. Apparently they had good conversations behind the taverns at nightfall. Not that she could remember them.

There were a few others. An acrobat she had seen around, but never really spoken to. The witch, Astrid, who had ordered packages before but preferred her items to be left on the doorstep. Not a great conversationalist. There was Krizira, of course, and a paladin who looked strong enough to take a few hits. She smirked. It would be beneficial to get into his good books.

Taking a breath, she bent down and gathered up her belongings. Metal clanged as she grabbed the shield. Higvi blushed. A screaming mouth had appeared below her fist, bent into the polished metal. It's lips were lined with age and it had long, razor-sharp fangs. She turned the shield towards her, trying to hide the mouth from the crowd. No one seemed to have noticed. She snatched up the morningstar. With a clunk its head bent into itself and the handle groaned as it twisted like caramel. She winced, glancing at her future companions. No odd looks. They were all just talking amongst themselves.

They were forgetting about her.

Higvi gulped. She had to make an impression, fast. She strode over to them, making a beeline for Bromi. At least they had spoken properly before. Maybe he could introduce her to the acrobat.

She plastered a well-practiced smile across her face. "Bromi!" she said, sheathing her mace and stretching out a wide and welcoming arm. "My friend, how are you?"

[silly-string]

"Just remmber Astrid, you and I aren't that far removed from those humans, there's no need for such scorn of their customs." Serianna shouted at the other tiefling woman as she complained. her face twisted into as much of a frown as her curled horns would allow.

"Yew lot. Threw yer stuff in me cart. Ain't goin' no-where, and their ain't no point burdenin' yerself with et noaw."

Bomi's shout about the cart drew Serianna's attention away from the small crowd of her new companions. with a sigh she strode over to a small barrel and thick leather roll, hefting the barrel under her arm and cradling the roll in her other arm. With a quick glance down at the backpack that still sprawled on the floor she carefully tucked her things in a corner of the cart, she returned to her pack and scooped it up before stashing it with the rest of her gear, carefully arranging it to cover as much of the barrel as possible.

She plastered a well-practiced smile across her face. "Bromi!" she said, sheathing her mace and stretching out a wide and welcoming arm. "My friend, how are you?"

when Higvi called out to bomi Serianna jumped and half pulled the ebony and gold stick out of its pouch, a long steel tube ran down the spine and a complicated mechanism near her hand twitched as her finger pressed on the trigger. "By the Dragons' fangs woman! Please don't sneak up on me like that!" The startled look on her face quickly faded and she carefully slid Hadir Altanin back into its pouch.

[Wiz0rd]

Edit:

Spoiler: General New Haven Knowledge

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General Town Knowledge
Each of your characters would be aware of the structures and services within the town, but possibly not the exact names and races of who works and runs them, background depending. The valley fortified town is small, and has a modest populace: a mixed bunch of races but mostly ones that are either considered typical for the area and the material plane, and ones that are half-human in some way or other. A rough estimate into the population of the town would sit around 200-300 people.
Within the town you'd find:
- A general smithy
- A timber and woodworking shop
- A stone-masons
- A tinkerer's junkyard
- A textiles and weaver's hut
- The Cafeteria
- The "Journey's End" Tavern
- A modest school and nursery
- The general trader and merchant
- A small market area
- A doctor's hut and infirmary
- A very modest library and alchemy lab
- A small multi-faith chapel and shrine area
- Your character's old home / resting spot / workplace
- The water-well
- The raised farms, cliff farms, the green-fingers potter's hut and the mushroom and fungal farms within the cliffs themselves.
- The mayor's house
- The gate, and the gate-guard
- The militia's training yard
- The general residential area
- AND the stables.

---

Just as Izan looked deep in thought, thinking about the cursed coin that seemed to plague his fortunes in the past and what other curious treasures there were still to discover: a small child, not quite entirely human in biology, approaches the slim acrobat, emerging from the direction of the general revelry. He is plainly dressed in comfortable, loose fitting brown cottons, his facial features slender, elongated and pointed.
"'scuze me sir, are you Izan? Izan the acrobat-man?" he says in a quiet, polite, slightly intimated, youthful way.

---

Serianna's brief embroiling discussion with the elderly tinkerer went something along the lines of this:
"Why yes, the blinding light is absolutely necessary for the capture process. No, I haven't tried to weaponize it yet. Each image is quite an expensive procedure you see! Yes, yes, good luck to you inventor commrade, I look forward to hearing news about your discoveries on the winds!", and in a poor abyssal tongue adds, "Thank you." as he wanders off back towards the small tinkerer's yards.

---

Krizira, during the whole ceremony (except for the moments you were incidentally blinded), your family and their warm, tearful gazes were focused upon you. Their faces did not betray their emotions, though difficult to see through the crowd, they wore warm smiles. After the celebrations were declared to begin, your Uncle and Emily performed a large wave through the crowd and pointed towards the nearby local Tavern - "The Journey's End", and bounced merrily in that direction.
The Journey's End is a small, ramshackle shed of a tavern but filled with quaint charm and a long history. Apart from the heavy wooden hinged shutters it used very occasionally during times of siege or bad weather, it was an open-plan affair, it's only walls and boundary to entry was through decorative draping cloths only adding to it's already warm atmosphere.
Your pack, next to Bomi's and now Serianna's equipment, looks considerably neat, organised and secure in comparison to Bomi's packing attempt.

---

Nodding Bomi stepped forward, breaking rank and file to both regard the rest of the group more fully and begin progress towards his next target: a tall frosty one, and not of the ice-elemental variety.
"Aye, c'mon lass, day-light's wastin'. Sayin' a few last words to yer family sounds like a bonnie idea." with a momentary lapse, Bomi's expression changes and he pauses "I'll be needin' to make a quick stop at the chapel... for m' father." He continued walking back towards New Haven proper and away from the tall, looming gate behind. "Come, Kree-anna, is ut'? Les' walk n' talk aye?"

"She plastered a well-practiced smile across her face. "Bromi!" she said, sheathing her mace and stretching out a wide and welcoming arm. "My friend, how are you?!"

Embracing the out-stretched arm and places it around his shoulder, he reaches up and mirrors the hearty half-embrace and just as he opens his mouth to speak-

Serianna jumped and half pulled the ebony and gold stick out of its pouch, a long steel tube ran down the spine and a complicated mechanism near her hand twitched as her finger pressed on the trigger.

With a glance, Bomi's eyes widen, expression becoming serious as a surge of adrenaline and percieved imminent danger makes time almost feel as if it were to slow.

With an uncharacteristic, unexpected speed, Bomi performs the famous low and quick dwarven charge towards the draped Tiefling flamework maker, holding out his outstretched arm, firmly blocking the arm from making any more progress to pointing the fire-stick in any meaningful direction.

"Bloody hellfire woman, what in cryin' blazes are y' tryin' to do!? When, in gods nam', did ye think that were ever gonna' be a grand idea?!" Bomi's face reddens as he shouts loudly, irritated at the whole spectacle. Hand, arm, and threat remaining where it is, he calms and says in an icy coolness: "Look, I'm haffin' enough time keepin' it all together too, but this luttle trip, doesn't need sum' paranoid flamework loony gettin' trigger happy 'cause the wind turns, or I'll finish this myself. We understandin' uch other?" His firey gaze meeting and locking with Seri--somethin's.

"Sorry Higvi, I'll be with y' in a minut'."

[folkiefaerie]

Edit:

"Bloody hellfire woman, what in cryin' blazes are y' tryin' to do!? When, in gods nam', did ye think that were ever gonna' be a grand idea?!" Bomi's face reddens as he shouts loudly, irritated at the whole spectacle. Hand, arm, and threat remaining where it is, he calms and says in an icy coolness: "Look, I'm haffin' enough time keepin' it all together too, but this luttle trip, doesn't need sum' paranoid flamework loony gettin' trigger happy 'cause the wind turns, or I'll finish this myself. We understandin' uch other?" His firey gaze meeting and locking with Seri--somethin's.

"Sorry Higvi, I'll be with y' in a minut'."

Higvi lays a hand on Bromi's arm and smiles. "It's okay. She's right, I do have a terrible habit of sneaking up on people. Remember when you were at the bar in the Journey's End, and I tapped you on the shoulder and you chucked your beer all over the barman?" She laughs. "You were cleaning the smell out of your clothes for days!" She keeps laughing, glancing up at Bromi every couple of seconds, hoping that his frown will break into a laugh at any second and that all would be forgiven and forgotten...

(Diplomacy check/ 22)

[benjaminrussell]

Krizira watched quietly as Higvi made Serianna jump, and as Serianna in turn shocked Bomi by drawing her weapon. She was ready to act if needed, but was sure that after everyone's initial shock that there wouldn't be a problem. All the townsfolk knew there was nothing to fear in New Haven.
"Serianna may be quick to draw, but she's also got quick enough reflexes not to accidentally shoot someone," She reassured Bomi, before shooting a small smile at Serianna.

Edit:
"Aye, c'mon lass, day-light's wastin'. Sayin' a few last words to yer family sounds like a bonnie idea." with a momentary lapse, Bomi's expression changes and he pauses "I'll be needin' to make a quick stop at the chapel... for m' father." He continued walking back towards New Haven proper and away from the tall, looming gate behind. "Come, Kree-anna, is ut'? Les' walk n' talk aye?"

Krizira filed away the scrap of information about Bomi's father, but didn't say anything about it other than nodding her assent. It didn't seem like he wanted to discuss it, and she was only too happy to oblige. Dead parents weren't exactly the sort of topic to talk about during a celebration.
"Krizira," She corrected, "Krizira Sharma."

[Petulantcobra]

"Well then, who and what do we have here?" " she asked addressing the silvery man.

Izan turns to Serianna, "That must have been brighter than I thought it was. Surely one such as yourself knows a fellow with outsider blood when you see one. I am-" Izan is cut off by a child tugging at his cloak

"'scuze me sir, are you Izan? Izan the acrobat-man?"

"My name is indeed Izan and I have been known to perform feats of acrobatics on occasion" He said looking half at the Tiefling with a strange device on her hip and half at the child. "What can I do for you today? I regret I do not have much time though, I must give that short man my things" (gesture at Bomi) "and then I must be making final preparations to adventure."

[silly-string]

"That must have been brighter than I thought it was. Surely one such as yourself knows a fellow with outsider blood when you see one. I am-" Izan is cut off by a child tugging at his cloak

"I'm aware..." Serianna starts, but rolls her eyes and wanders off as Izan turns his attention to the child.

"Krizira," She corrected, "Krizira Sharma."

Serianna laid a hand over the half-elf's shoulder and smiled gratefully and apologetically "I think he's talking to me child, and it's seri-anna, like serenity." she turns to look even more apologetically at Bomi. "I apologise, however I'd rather not be snuck up on by anyone, I'll apologise to Higvi. And in my defence, there was no match in the serpentine, so it wouldn't have gone off anyway." she reaches down to the large end of the powder horn on her hip and unscrews part of it, pulling out a length of rope with a smouldering end and showing it to the dwarf and anyone that cares to see it.

[Wiz0rd]

The small elf-like child, upon hearing the shouting laments of the nearby dwarf voice, takes a reactionary step to the side, looks but does not turn their head and subtly, instinctively reduces their size and stance.
In the next moment, the child shuffles through the folds of their modest, billowy clothing, and produces a small cloth-covered item and holds it out, both hands out as if presenting a gift. It is small and rectangular, and decorated with a single, frayed, tied reddish ribbon.
"Won't be long, sir. A gift from Mr. Brightshield sir, from the merchants. He told me to tell something about special deals for today..." and with that their focus changes, looking as if their mind were scrambling for the correct words.

---

Spoiler: Diplomacy Result

Show

Success!

"It's okay. She's right, I do have a terrible habit of sneaking up on people. Remember when you were at the bar in the Journey's End, and I tapped you on the shoulder and you chucked your beer all over the barman?"

"Serianna may be quick to draw, but she's also got quick enough reflexes not to accidentally shoot someone."

"... In my defense, there was no match in the serpentine, so it wouldn't have gone off anyway."

Looking between each of the speakers and Higvi's gentle gesture, Bomi's expression and skin visibly cools, his arm lowers. He keenly watches Serianna perform a demonstration and explanation of her invention to him and the group. He watches intently and listens without speaking for a moment. It seems to capture the Dwarven spirit of craftsmanship and industry.

"Ach, aye. Blast. I'm sorry lass, I 'ad no idea. Ain't never come across one o' those fancy boom-sticks before. Jus' don't point it at me o' us folk, aye? 'thing makes me nervous." he shrugs, "And ah ment t' threw m' pint that time, Higvi! 'e were sayin' m' latest build were 'un-inspired n' shoddy' - AN 'E WERE ONLY HAF RIOGT.", turning to Higvi he lets off a signature hearty guffaw.

" 'Kreezeera Shaarmaa', ey? I think I've seen yew around before. Aye, walk n' talk lads n' lasses, walk n' talk." the situation apparently satisfactory for the dwarf and the group, he returned to plodding towards the town's fete.

"Yew all gots things t' be gettin' up tew? Maight be quicker to split up now. Meet back 'ere in say, thurty minutes o' so?"

[Petulantcobra]

In the next moment, the child shuffles through the folds of their modest, billowy clothing, and produces a small cloth-covered item and holds it out, both hands out as if presenting a gift. It is small and rectangular, and decorated with a single, frayed, tied reddish ribbon.
"Won't be long, sir. A gift from Mr. Brightshield sir, from the merchants. He told me to tell something about special deals for today..."

---

Izan reaches out and takes the package. "Thank you very much. Please extend my gratitude to the merchants as a group. I do appreciate a special deal. I will have to go see Mr Brightshield before I get moving. But first let's see what is in the box." Izan gives the box a quick inspection before opening it carefully.

[benjaminrussell]

Thankfully due to some careful words from both Higvi and Serianna, the situation didn't escalate. It wasn't something they needed to happen before they'd even left town! Krizira relaxed again and decided to make sure everyone knew each other, at least those few that she was currently talking to.
"Do you all know each other?" She asked.

" 'Kreezeera Shaarmaa', ey? I think I've seen yew around before. Aye, walk n' talk lads n' lasses, walk n' talk." the situation apparently satisfactory for the dwarf and the group, he returned to plodding towards the town's fete.

"Yew all gots things t' be gettin' up tew? Maight be quicker to split up now. Meet back 'ere in say, thurty minutes o' so?"

"You've had dealings with my dad, Tarun," Krizira replied, a little amused at Bomi's pronounciation of her name, "He's the one that will have brought you weapons that were scavenged."

At Bomi's suggestion, Krizira nodded, "That sounds sensible. We certainly don't want to leave it too long before setting off or we'll be travelling in the dark."

[Cranelotus]

With the bright spots clearing in her vision Astrid squinted at Bromi and could see him a little more clearly. She visibly recoiled like shining a torch on a cockroach when the realised the horrifying truth - he was in fact, a dwarf. Stricken with the knowledge that she committed a slightly racist faux pas, she apologised as best she could.
"Oh. So you are a dwarf. That's unfortunate." there isn't any possible way that could be misconstrued, she thought to herself. "and a thousand thank yous for allowing my humble self to put my bag in your cart." though the rucksack was not that heavy, her legs wobbled as she lifted it. She heaved it over the edge and watched it land with a pat until it rolled to a standstill.

"Frau Tiefling, please allow me to know what you would prefer to be called. I am Astrid. I would have you know that I have nothing against humans, but the spectacle is human, and the spectacle is ridiculous. I am frustrated with the situation, not frustrated with that which caused the situation."

Astrid turned her attention to the child approaching Izan. She patronisingly crouched and looked him in the face to read him. Definitely not human, at least. What else could she see?

Spoiler: perception check

Show

(1d20+4)[23]

Just as Izan was about to open the package, she put her hand on his shoulder. She still started at the boy, locking eyes with him. "Wait, Izan..." She said. "it is possible that as we are an adventuring party now, we may have made an enemy or two. We may have a snake amongst us. Who's to say we can trust him? Do you recognise him?" Astrid looked up to the sky. She saw the raven circling the group like some kind of ominous halo and nodded. She waved her palm around the object Izan held as she muttered some words under her breath.
"O strange forces that we do not yet understand, I pray to see a glimmer of your brand...Detect magic!" (I cast detect magic)

[folkiefaerie]

At Bomi's suggestion, Krizira nodded, "That sounds sensible. We certainly don't want to leave it too long before setting off or we'll be travelling in the dark."

Higvi smiles to herself, her eyes becoming cloudy. "That would be nice," she mutters. She shakes her head and throws her hands out as if to catch herself, blinking hard. When she looks up at Krizira, it's as if she's only just noticed she was there. "Oh, hello," she says, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. "You're the scavenger's daughter, right? Krizira." She nods. "I'm Higvi. I think we've met before."

[Wiz0rd]

While handing over the small cloth-covered parcel to Izan, the small child performs an almost identical response to Astrid as they did to Bomi's fiery outburst earlier, albeit this time featuring watery, teary eyes. Astrid, getting very close to inspect the physical nature of this creature, determines that they are of a full Elven biology.

"I'm sorry! I'm only doing what I've been told! Don't cast a spell on me!" as the child wipes it's eyes and runs away.

Looking down, the parcel is wrapped in a simple hemp, sack-like cloth and as before, wrapped with a single modest ribbon. Within the cloth, is a shoddy wooden box of little value, small, thin and hastily made with a sliding top. Small enough to perhaps hold a small dagger, but it does not weigh that heavy in your hands.

With a glint in her eye, Astrid, calling to powers unknown, casts her magically-detecting gaze upon the box and studies it intently for a moment. Detecting magic in the past you can determine that there is no magic to be foun-- wait, no, there is a sliver, an extremely faint whisper of something magic within. Anyone could be forgiven for missing it, it has a tiny, minuscule aura, it is actually remarkable how close to little magic this item possesses. A curiosity, perhaps.

---

"Do you all know each other?" Krizira asked.

Briefly turning in his tracks, Bomi turns to look over his shoulder and points at the particular individuals of the small group, still standing where they were, not progressing to the town, idly chatting, and says:
Izan: "Seen, ne'er introduced."
Krizira: "You lass, met just now, knew y' father."
Astrid: "Erre'one knows Astrid. Bult her 'oose."
Serianna: "Knew of, ne'er introduced."
Higvi: "Higvi! Drunkin' buddy. We gu a luttle while back."
Athos: "Knew 'is father. Heard good things tho'."

---

"Oh. So you are a dwarf. That's unfortunate." there isn't any possible way that could be misconstrued, she thought to herself. "and a thousand thank yous for allowing my humble self to put my bag in your cart." though the rucksack was not that heavy, her legs wobbled as she lifted it. She heaved it over the edge and watched it land with a pat until it rolled to a standstill.

After very quickly sniping and talking about his relationship with the rest of the group, as he's walking away, he overhears Astrid.
" 'Thas' unfortunate' is ut?" he stops his walk towards the town, calmly walks over to Astrid and the cart. He says nothing as he very calmly, very cooly reaches over to Astrid's lightly-packed backpack, stares her in the eye with a blank expression, and contemplates very deeply about dropping the pack to the floor with an unceremonious, dusty flop...

Thinking of the moment just before with the other Tiefling flame-work maker, he changes his mind at the last moment, and instead reaches in and re-packs the bag neatly upon the cart.
"Uh. Di'nt want yer wutch stuff to rock 'bout too much..."
"Thousand thank ye's m' arse." he sighs quietly

---

As they were walking and talking, Higvi and Krizira quietly discussed the founding of a new common-ish word: "Spangladasha" which 'Bromi' very much struggled with it's pronunciation and use, but they also very briefly discussed potential destinations for when the adventuring party leaves New Haven for the first time...

[silly-string]

"Frau Tiefling, please allow me to know what you would prefer to be called. I am Astrid. I would have you know that I have nothing against humans, but the spectacle is human, and the spectacle is ridiculous. I am frustrated with the situation, not frustrated with that which caused the situation."

"I'm Serianna, the flamework maker, surely you've seen my rockets or fire-wheels? on festival days?" she replies with a slight smirk. "that spectacle is what i find most endearing about them, the awe and wonder at the rest of the world, the fact that they keep coming back for more of my work."

---

"Do you all know each other?" She asked.

"I'm afraid I keep mostly to myself, my... parentage, doesn't make me particularly popular with the rest of the town, and my profession doesn't make me many more friends. shaking her horned head she shrugged and started following the small procession towards the inn.

[Cranelotus]

"I'm Serianna, the flamework maker, surely you've seen my rockets or fire-wheels? on festival days?" she replies with a slight smirk. "that spectacle is what i find most endearing about them, the awe and wonder at the rest of the world, the fact that they keep coming back for more of my work."

"Well I've certainly heard the noise and ruckus while I try to sleep!" Astrid said to Serianna, half-jokingly. "It is good to pursue that which you are passionate about." she nodded in approval.

While handing over the small cloth-covered parcel to Izan, the small child performs an almost identical response to Astrid as they did to Bomi's fiery outburst earlier, albeit this time featuring watery, teary eyes. Astrid, getting very close to inspect the physical nature of this creature, determines that they are of a full Elven biology.

"I'm sorry! I'm only doing what I've been told! Don't cast a spell on me!" as the child wipes it's eyes and runs away.

Looking down, the parcel is wrapped in a simple hemp, sack-like cloth and as before, wrapped with a single modest ribbon. Within the cloth, is a shoddy wooden box of little value, small, thin and hastily made with a sliding top. Small enough to perhaps hold a small dagger, but it does not weigh that heavy in your hands.

With a glint in her eye, Astrid, calling to powers unknown, casts her magically-detecting gaze upon the box and studies it intently for a moment. Detecting magic in the past you can determine that there is no magic to be foun-- wait, no, there is a sliver, an extremely faint whisper of something magic within. Anyone could be forgiven for missing it, it has a tiny, minuscule aura, it is actually remarkable how close to little magic this item possesses. A curiosity, perhaps.

She watched the child run away crying, and pondered her response for a minute until he disappeared. She considered apologizing and calling him back, but then decided she'd never really given excuses for being rude before, and there was no reason to start now.
"well, that might be the second most witch-like thing I've done all day, besides being an actual witch..." she muttered. She shrugged mentally.

Astrid turned her attention to the item, and to Izan.
"It's probably not going to explode or anything, I think for the most part it is safe. However..." she leaned in and held her finger to her lips, went shhhhh and started whispering. "If you listen carefully and open your mind's eye, there is the faint wisp of something in there, like smoke after fire put out by rain...Perhaps on a quieter day you'd be able to hear it too." after a brief pause she stood up straightly and spoke at normal volume again.
"Probably nothing to worry about though. Carry on!"

Brushing her hands as if she had finished a job, Astrid nodded and walked to the inn for that mentioned drink, and stumbled through the door.
"One glass of absinthe please." she said as she walked through the door, fumbling around with her coin purse. After messing around with the kid, she looked to see if anyone else got there first.

[Wiz0rd]

The day bright and crisp, a small contingent of the adventuring party began to walk and make progress towards the "Journey's End" tavern. In an odd contrast, the journey towards the "Journey's End" is not long at all, in fact, the building is one that is remarkably close to the fortified entrance of the town, however, your progress is beset by well-wishing, reveling townsfolk, each wanting to shake the hand of the new branded heroes and to bestow grand statements of good fortune upon you. Many of these people are very distant acquaintances or strangers, and otherwise the conversation you share between them is otherwise inconsequential and potentially awkward. On occasion, small non-valuable coins are thrust with insistence that they purchase you a drink or a meal, they insist.

Spoiler: Inventory Notes

Show

The adventurers may add the equivalent of a gold piece in small change to their stocks.

To describe the structure as a tavern would be very generous. The building takes more of a form as a elaborate, decorated shack-styled bar. It is a lean-to with a long, shady low roof and barriers defined by pleasantly billowing dyed sheets and cloths. It's property is defined by a quaint roped fence and a metallic sign, crafted from bolted scrap metal that creaks every now and again. The drinking hole is surrounded by crafted comfortable, cushioned seating and areas designed for convenient drinking and smooth-flowing conversation, but there does not seem to be any provisions for over-night stays or the serving of food. The nearby townsfolk band can be heard as they play a homely quality folksy, bouncy tunes.

""One glass of absinthe please." Astrid said as she walked through the door, fumbling around with her coin purse. After messing around with the kid, she looked to see if anyone else got there first."

Upon crossing the threshold, Astrid indeed begins to fumble with her coin-purse, adding any donations received from the townsfolk in addition to the sum of her previous spare income. She is joined by the presence of Serianna her Tiefling commrade, Bomi now visibly relieved to be in the bar, and Krizira whom is on a personal quest to spend a few moments with her family before finally embarking on her quest proper. The others are likely nearby, either still with the cart and packs and chatting or eager to leave, or otherwise running other errands in the town: it is unlikely there will be much commotion in either case, perhaps.

Jonathan Coolwaters, upon hearing Astrid with her peculiar request, looks up and endeavors to make himself as available as he can at the busy bar for her. He is a popular, kindly middle-aged human man, and a talented bar-keeper."Ab-sinthe?" he plays with the syllables in the alien word to him. "Sounds, and looks, like you need something potent. Hold on." as he very briefly disappears out of vision beneath the bar and reappears presenting a very small, thin cork-topped vial which covered with a tied, delicate black velvet bag. A wry smile draws across his friendly and slightly mischievous face.

Bomi, standing next to Astrid at this point, watches the man and glances between the vial and the barkeep. "... I'll jus' haf' an ale, John. I knews tha' devils' work when I sees it."

[silly-string]

Before entering the Inn Serianna checked, then double checked herself for any embers or smoulder, she ensured that her match is safely secured in the special chamber in the cap of her powder horn and finally, with a satisfied nod, strode into the Inn. At the bar she settled herself, smoothing her skirts and straightening her shawl before peering suspiciously at the array of bottles and hand pumps.

"John? is it?" she asked, taking her lead from Bomi, as she smiled the friendliest smile she could. The effect was rather spoiled by her horns and the suggestions of fangs that her incisors gave. "What do you have that isn't flammable? Preferably something that won't be too much trouble for someone who hasn't drunk in nearly thirty-five years."

[benjaminrussell]

Krizira entered the tavern area and was immediately dragged into the large group that consisted of her adopted family and their various partners, friends and relations. Someone thrust a drink into her hand, and someone else gave her a sandwich to eat on the journey, which she carefully put away in one of her coat pockets. Everyone wanted to say goodbye and hug her, and it was a bit overwhelming being the subject of their attentions all at once, but at least they were all people she knew well. She allowed herself the time it took to speak to everyone and finish her drink, before excusing herself, saying one last general goodbye, and begin to wind her way through the crowds in the direction of their meeting point.

[folkiefaerie]

Higvi rummaged in her pack. She stole a couple of glances over her shoulder, and when she was sure the others had gone, she pushed herself off of the cart. Muscles tense, she crisscrossed through the streets, glancing through the shop windows and smiling at anyone bothering to look her way. When she reached the bottom of the highstreet, she darted down Gref's Alley, running past the backs of shops, ducking under the railings and over the walls until she was back at the top of the highstreet. She took a breath. She started the walk again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Halfway through the fourth circuit, she stopped. The peeling violet shopfront of Vaal Paradis's post office glowed with swirling patterns of faerie-fire. Higvi peeked through the post office window. There was no one standing at the kiosk, but Higvi could see the yellow wisps of Miss Dreethian-Lock's curly hair rising up from beneath the desk.

Higvi pulled at the skin around her fingers. It was only a little breakage. Surely Miss Dreethian-Lock wasn't still holding a grudge.

Surely.

And anyway, thought Higvi, she might be happier to see me now that I'm leaving.

[Wiz0rd]

"John? is it?" she asked, she smiled the friendliest smile she could. The effect was rather spoiled by her horns and the suggestions of fangs that her incisors gave. "What do you have that isn't flammable? Preferably something that won't be too much trouble for someone who hasn't drunk in nearly thirty-five years."

"Jonathan Coolwaters, at your service. I've seen you around Serianna, setting up your flameworks for the feast day, but you've never set foot in my establishment before. In any case: welcome!
Now, to business, for you? I recommend a tall frosty glass of Coolwater(tm)! Hold on." he replaces the small vial back under the bar, and in the same hand brings up a plain, but thick glass and in a few steps reaches down again to some container and the glass is filled with a crystal clear liquid. Upon placing the beverage upon the counter, before you have the chance to partake, raising his eyebrow he passes his hand and arm in-front of the glass momentarily, blocking your line of sight. Miraculously, upon the passing of the hand, the glass is covered in a delightful thin film of frost.
"On the house." he smiles, seemingly completely unperturbed by any horn or suggestion of demonic or devilish fangs.

"Oi, John. I were 'ere furst! Turrible customer service."
"Bomi, I can always depend on your loyal custom. New introductions are important. You understand"
"Nut fer too much longer. Blasted thing. D'ya mind if I take me tankard n' bring it back? I gots somethin' to du."
"Yeah, no problem Bro-mi. Just bring it back before you go." he says as a metallic tankard of frothy brown ale is placed on the bar and slid across to Bomi's anticipating hand.
"Cheers, John, 'ta." Bomi places a few low-value coins on the counter and nods to Johnathan. Tapping Serianna and Krizira on the shoulder he quietly mutters: "Jus' goin' t' do mah chores, I'll be seein' ya at t' cart in a few."

---

Back turned from the "Journey's End", Krizira had a belly full of delicious snacks, ales and opportune shots of various spirits. Her pockets lined with sandwiches, provisions and trinkets from her extended family. Though the meeting was chaotic and brief, it was touching and meaningful. Her mind is graced with the replaying of various utterances:

"Kri-Kri! If anything happens, I'm coming to find you!"
"Remember; use your head out there. If it's a fair fight, you're doing it wrong."
"Shank 'em where it hurts, Krizira. You got this."
"Stick to the shadows, remember your training young one."
"If it ever comes to you or them, always pick you, and ride like the wind."
"While scavenging, appraise first, lift second. Think of opportune sales."

"... There is only one thing I want to say. Come back to us, beloved Krizria Sharma."

Her final embraces still warm and present upon her apparel.

Spoiler: Krizira

Show

Add some additional rations and family trinkets to your inventory.
For now, also add a +2 to morale saves against fear, thanks to spending meaningful time with your family.

---

New Haven's high street is as modest as the size of the town, but characteristically practical and well-equipped - mimicking the mayors' will upon the town: the ideal place for everyone and every occupation. The buildings are small, as to fit well within the confines of the small valley, and closely spread. The smithy lay next to the tinkerer's yard for example. The residential area lay further back in the cooler, inner regions of the valley, as well as the designated farming areas.

Higvi's walk routine did not take long, but with her friendly smiles her repeated passing went seemingly unnoticed. The small fenced areas behind the stores proving to be a small, relatively easy obstacle course. Many of the town's services were not in use due to the town's current festival. Each of the services were empty, apart from those participating in some way with the festivities. Each, apart from the decorated front of the New Haven postal-office.

The post-office itself was very modest: a medium sized wooden shed with window towards the high-street and a desk across the middle of the structure. The working side wall was lined with an open-faced cupboard with many small holes and slits, many of which have signs of small parcels and letters within. A door to the side of the post-office kiosk leads to the operations' second function: warehousing and dry-storage.
The front door is open and tied, and the window pane is currently not shuttered down. Within:

There was no one standing at the kiosk, but Higvi could see the yellow wisps of Miss Dreethian-Lock's curly hair rising up from beneath the desk.

Spoiler: Perception Check

Show

Detection, with uncertainty.

Lifting up, she glances the side of the back of her head on the side of the desk with a gentle, dull thud. "H-" rubbing her head, "Hello? Some-one there?" her blonde curly hair bouncing slightly upon an attractive, young adult human female. A very small pair of spectacles sitting placed upon the bridge of her nose. In her grasp sits a small, mixed scruffy handful of sealed letters.

[Cranelotus]

"Thank you, thank you, you're too kind. A thousand divinations for you. And a plague on the houses of your enemies." said Astrid to the surprisingly kindly folk of that tavern. After awkwardly scurrying through the crowd, she sat herself down next to Bomi. She raised her hand to pat him on the back in a friendly manner, but decided against it as the gesture would be too insincere and contrived. He left soon after anyway.

"Yes, absinthe. Shed runoff is not my tipple of choice. No offence to your other wares, I'm sure they taste positively decent." she watched him disappear and stared at the spot last seen until he reappeared again elsewhere.

Astrid considered the small vial. She had no reason to be suspicious, as she realised she never much noticed the vehicle the alcohol arrived in, only that it came in a glass and the liquid was green. But something about his face made her uneasy. Nevertheless, after casting a spell earlier she had no interest in casting another one; her distrust wasn't enough to warrant it and more importantly, she couldn't be bothered.
"Nice looking bottle. May I ask the good sir for a glass too? And can you pour it? It's too early in the afternoon for drinking out of the bottle." she dumped some coins in the table as she was also unsure of the cost.
"I'm sure you'll find the necessary fare amongst the pieces of marked metal. Thank you."

Astrid slumped her head on the table but kept her eyes open. Serianna made her request and she watched the man make the drink. She saw the ice trick and pretended not to notice. However on the inside she began to find herself growing jealous even though she did not like being a witch.
"...i could do that..." she mumbled almost inaudibly. Astrid glanced around for the raven. She could not see it.

[benjaminrussell]

Krizira couldn't help smiling as she made her way away from the tavern. She still sometimes couldn't believe that she'd found such a warm and caring family - her mother and the Elven village weren't even comparable. As she'd already packed her things and done everything she needed to do before setting off on the journey, she slowly made her way back towards the towe gate and their meeting point, occasionally stopping to exchange a few words with townspeople she passed.

[silly-string]

"On the house." he smiles, seemingly completely unperturbed by any horn or suggestion of demonic or devilish fangs.

"Thank you Jonathan." she replied smoothly, carefully ignoring Bomi's angry grumblings about his being in line first. "Would it be an appropriate appology for cutting the queue to buy Bomi his drink?" she asks before taking a tentative sip of the clearwater, then taking another heartier gulp.

[folkiefaerie]

Lifting up, she glances the side of the back of her head on the side of the desk with a gentle, dull thud. "H-" rubbing her head, "Hello? Some-one there?" her blonde curly hair bouncing slightly upon an attractive, young adult human female. A very small pair of spectacles sitting placed upon the bridge of her nose. In her grasp sits a small, mixed scruffy handful of sealed letters.

Higvi pokes her head around the door.
"Miss Dreethian-Lock!" she says, smiling widely. "It's me. Higvi." She advances into the post office, holding her arms wide open like someone approaching the guards for a pat-down. She swallows. "You look busy."