[4E] Winterhaven's Gates

[Snowbody]

It's another beautiful morning in the Nentir Vale, the sun rising gloriously in the East. The vale is mostly untamed wilderness, quite dangerous -- things haven't been the same since the fall of the Nerath Empire about a century ago -- but here a village rises from the forest, a steadfast outpost of civilization, trade, and order. Not quite a "city on a hill" but a beacon offering protection to all who seek peace... and reward to those who seek adventure.

The rutted King’s Road leads to the foot of a broad hill that holds the walled village of Winterhaven. The village is nestled in the southern foothills of the Cairngorm Peaks. The walls are weathered stone topped by defensive palisades. Small thatched homes stand around Winterhaven, each fronting a small piece of farmland or pasture. Beyond the farms to the west and south lie dark woods, and to the north, tall mountain peaks. One of the southern farms, easily visible from the road, seems to have recently been burned to the ground.

Yet all is not right today. The road that leads up the hill is clogged with carts, and merchants grumble about delays. There seems to be a small commotion at the gateway into the village.

[Shadow_Elf]

Alessa
The young human woman gives a strange look at the front of the line. Her blonde hair, blue eyes and immaculate features are out of place among the homogenous rabble, a lone splash of vibrancy is a field of dun and brown. She turns to an older woman next to her. Are you aware of what is causing the delay? she asks, in a voice that sounds vaguely reminiscent of rain falling on tin.

[Snowbody]

"This isn't supposed to happen," mutters the old woman. "Lord Padraig never lets anything get in the way of trade, especially on Market Day. I heard someone say the Regulars wanted to improve security. What are they afraid of I wonder." She clutches a satchel at her side. "I might not have time to buy new jars."

[Shadow_Elf]

Alessa
If you would kindly hold my place, ma'am, I will advance to the line's front and investigate what is happening there. Hopefully you will have time to obtain jars, she says, slipping gracefully out of the queue and advancing to the line's front to see what is delaying progress at the gate.

[Snowbody]

Several of the merchants and farmers call out angrily as Alessa (apparently) cuts the line. Some throw up their arms in frustration.

At the front of the line, the main town gate is closed. A side doorway, only wide enough for a person to walk through, is open but a guard is blocking it, trying to reason with the first would-be trader. "Please stay calm, this is just a temporary measure until we find the criminals." The guard appears a little unsure of himself, and keeps looking over nervously at another guard. Said guard, in the same armor and helmet, is leaning against the wall, arms folded, observing the proceedings. Each guard's belt has a hand crossbow and a sword.

"But you can't make me unload the cart! There's no way I can carry all that through the doorway by myself!" protests the farmer.

"I'm sorry, really I am, maybe we can make an exception?" says the guard, sounding genuinely sympathetic, and looking hopefully at the senior guard.

The stoic senior guard shakes his head slightly, and the junior guard sighs. "I'm sorry, rules are rules, only empty carts through the gate. Here, I'll help..." he offers, but the senior guard shakes his head again.

Fuming, but keeping his temper in check, the farmer throws the cover off the cart and starts unloading, while the other two guards watch.

[Shadow_Elf]

Alessa
I am sorry, I do not intend to cut the line, says Alessa to the first person who objects. She gives a variation on this apology to all others, throwing in I only want to verify the cause for delay, and similar phrases here and there. As she reaches the front of the line, she frowns as the farmer has to unload his cart by himself. She addresses the guards. Apologies, sirs, but I do not understand the delay. What do criminals being in the city have to do with farmers' carts? If assistance in catching these criminals would help these folk get through the gate faster, I would gladly offer my services, she states.

[Snowbody]

OOC

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Since Alessa is trying to improve the attitude of the hostile unfriendly farmers, and seems to be trying to get on the indifferent guards' good side, that sounds like two separate uses of the Diplomacy skill.

If you take actions that assume a skill use, but don't roll, my default would be to roll for you. Do you want that? Or do you want the default to be to take 10 (in situations where you're not pressured or threatened)?

[Shadow_Elf]

OOC:

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I typically just describe my actions, and then if the DM wants a roll, I will roll something. I don't know that a diplomacy check is necessary to just be polite to people, but if you'd like the checks, I can make them. I understand with the guards, I suppose.

Check 1: (1d20)[4]
Check 2: (1d20)[1]

[Snowbody]

OOC

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Normally being polite means taking 10, which tends to not affect people's attitudes at all. It won't make anybody like you less, but it won't make anybody like you more -- it's just what's expected of you. Since you stated that's your intention, I'll allow that and ignore the botch rolls.

The farmers and artisans still seem unhappy that Alessa is walking past them, and several mutter under their breath. One phrase she overhears "She'll slow things down even worse, I'm sure."

The junior guard spots Alessa and moves to confront her before she can speak. "Ma'am? Ma'am? I'm sorry, all traders have to wait in line." The senior guard stops leaning on the wall and stands in a ready pose, but doesn't draw a weapon.

Responding to Alessa, the guard says, "Some troublemakers were jailed last night and escaped. The Regulars are handling it, there's no need to fear, but there have to be some increased security measures for everyone's safety. They got out of town concealed in a farmer's cart...we think..., so we need to make sure they don't sneak back into town the same way. It won't be for long, one's already been recaptured..." The senior guard clears his throat, warning the junior guard not to talk too much. "Thank you, we don't need any help, let the Regulars do their job. Could you please go to the back of the line now."

Alessa's insight tells her the junior guard is not completely sure what he's saying is the truth -- he's been ordered to say it.

The farmer is sweating as he carries each piece of his load through the side door. He glares at Alessa.

[Shadow_Elf]

Alessa
I see. Very well. I shall return to my rightful place in line and wait as instructed, she says, walking away from the line abd returning to the spot she'd originally been waiting in. She speaks to the old woman. It seems, ma'am, that the delay is caused by a slow and inefficient search at the gates for hidden criminals. The wait may be longer than anticipated. With that, the disguised elemental carries on amiable, if stilted, coversation with the old woman while she waits.

[Snowbody]

The old woman jabbers, "Criminals? How dangerous! I'm sure the Regulars have things well in hand though. After all, they act in the name of Lord Padraig, bless him!"

The artisan behind them, carrying a heavy sack, grumbles at Alessa, "Hey. Blondie. Back of the line. Might be okay with her that you cut back in, but isn't with me. I've already been through the line once today for nothing, you aren't getting in before I am." He points with his thumb behind him.

The old woman takes no notice of him. "I wonder if these criminals were the same ones who almost started a fight in the Inn last night."

[Shadow_Elf]

Alessa
As you can see, sir, I am hiding no criminals on my person. My presence here will not affect your own arrival through the gates by more than a few seconds, while sending me to back of line will delay my own arrival by significantly longer, and for no cause but your spite's satisfaction, reasons Alessa. I already do not like this place. The sooner I have slain the undead and left, the better, she thinks.

[Snowbody]

He seems to notice for the first time that Zimelda is unencumbered beyond a simple traveler's pack. "Huh," he says, moving some dirt around with his toe. "You ain't a local, you ain't got nothing to trade, are you some kind of mercenary? Or maybe you're one of Avandra's pilgrims?"

"Oh, I always open my home to pilgrims passing through, trusting to luck, Avandra gives me luck in return," twitters the old woman. "Do you need a place to stay tonight dearie?"

[Shadow_Elf]

Alessa
I have not heard of Avandra; is she a goddess? In any case, I am a hunter of undead and brigands. I do not take payment for my work, so I suppose I am not a mercenary. I heard tell there might be undead in the region, so I am in Winterhaven to see if I can learn anything more of my quarry, she replies to the artisan's question. Though I am not a pilgrim, ma'am, I would gladly accept your offer of hospitality if you would have me.

[Snowbody]

The old woman, taken aback, gasps and puts her hand to her chest. "Haven't heard of Avandra? Great Lady of luck and change? Protector of travelers and traders? She's how we survive out here in the wild! We're so fortunate, one of the few full temples to her in the whole Nentir Vale is here, you just have to stop by and visit Sister Linora on Temple Day, I guarantee you'll love to hear her speak on freedom!" She shows Alessa a hand-knit yarn medallion, which bears a symbol resembling three wavy lines.



The other farmer isn't quite as enthusiastic. "Sister Linora lives and lets live, she's got that going for her, she ain't a hypocrite. As for undead? Hah! Not around here, only tales told to frighten children into behaving. The Regulars would have taken care of any kind of threat like that. Some of the merchants from out-of-town complain about brigands on the road, but those kinds of problems are far away. You can ask at the Inn but everyone'll tell you the same." He seems sincere.

"Oh miss, my hut isn't much but I'd be thrilled to have you! My husband won't mind."

"Sara, you've got to stop trusting everybody you meet! One of these days it'll do you in."

"Avandra's luck hasn't failed me yet, Horace."

The line moves, slowly.

[Shadow_Elf]

Alessa
Thank you kindly for your hospitality, Ms. Sara. I will gladly stay in your residence tonight, once I have gathered what information I can about potential quarry, she says, in her lilting, watery voice.

She then turns to Horace. Are the Regulars really so competent? I am impressed by their apparent prowess; most city militias I have encountered have required my assistance to actively dispatch such threats. Perhaps they were not as organized or well trained as these individuals you speak so highly of.

[Snowbody]

"Yeah, I know what ya mean about town guards," says Horace. "Usually they're useless and corrupt, conveniently arriving just too late to do any good, always wanting a bribe. I went to Fallcrest once and got the royal shakedown just to get in. No, these guys are for real. The village'd be overrun right quick otherwise.
"The Regulars are the pros. Captain Kelfem is a great leader, keeps the men in line, and he has the full backing of Lord Padraig (they've been friends since they were boys). I'm a volunteer in the town militia for when things get hairy, like the gnoll invasion ten years ago -- we train once every week, and there are drills -- but the Regulars can handle just about anything."

The line advances again.

"But what about that burned farm?" asks Sara. "Could just as easily have been my house!"

[Shadow_Elf]

Alessa
This is reassuring. Perhaps my services will not be required in Winterhaven, she replies. Nonetheless, I will stay and gather information while I am here. Perhaps a threat exists outside of the Regulars' jurisdiction that I can neutralize.
Perhaps this place is not as bad as I first thought... All present are simply on edge due to the delays.

[Snowbody]

Horace: "Like I said, ask at the Inn, who knows, someone might need ya. And Sara, fires can start anywhere, I heard the Regulars put it out with minimal losses. Probably those criminals were responsible."

Sara: "Oh, it will be grand! And we can swap stories -- you tell me about your work, I'll tell you the ghost story of the skeleton knight who takes away naughty children back to his..."

Horace: "Sara, stop. That's not a topic for now." Horace is visibly uncomfortable that Sara brought up that particular ghost story.

They approach the gate. Another guard comes out with a piece of paper with one corner torn off. He shows it to the other two guards. They shrug. "Okay, show 'em," says the stoic senior guard. The new guard walks up to the three chatters. "These are the criminals the Regulars are looking for," he says. "If you see any of them, let the Regulars know right away." The paper has sketches of a male Goliath in hide armor, male Dragonborn in plate armor, and a vaguely Elvish-looking female in scale armor, her face mostly concealed by a hood. There was probably a fourth portrait but it's torn off.

[Shadow_Elf]

Alessa
If I encounter these criminals, I will gladly subdue them and return them here for punishment, says Alessa, her voice taking on stormy tones as she speaks of the criminals. If I may ask, sir, what is their crime? she asks inquisitively, her voice returning to its gentle rainlike cadence.

[Snowbody]

"One assaulted a villager. All interfered with the ability of the Regulars to protect the town, and escaped from jail before their trial. Just tell us if you see them okay?" says the new guard, looking quizzically at her.

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Guard perception - (1d20+7)[26]

[Shadow_Elf]

Alessa
As you wish, sir, she replies, inclining her head. May we pass through the gates now?

[Snowbody]

"Not my department, ask them." He indicates the junior and senior guards, then moves on down the line, showing the wanted poster.

Alessa, Sara, and Horace approach the gates. The junior guard sees Alessa first, and is about to usher her to the door, when the senior guard starts walking towards them. "You! With the blonde hair! I don't recognize you, are you here to trade?"

[Shadow_Elf]

Alessa
I am called Alessa. I am a hunter of undead and brigands. I am here to rest, purchase supplies and collect gossip before I set out on my next hunt, she explains.

[Snowbody]

A greedy light shines in the senior guard's eye. "Hmm, only a buyer, eh? Got gold? Well then you'll want the sellers to get in first so you'll have things to buy, so why don't you head to the back of the line like my colleague ordered you to." He stands in her way, but holds out his open palm expectantly.

The junior guard's eyes pop open wide at the blatant request for a bribe, but he doesn't dare challenge his superior.

Sara is oblivious.

Horace is aware of what's going on, but isn't quite sure he's seeing and hearing what he thinks he is, and he holds his tongue.

[Shadow_Elf]

Alessa
Clearly, the Lord Padraig does not pay you fine gentlemen enough for terrorizing his guests and sending away trade, she says, her black-and-white morality kicking in as her eyes begin to cloud over with flecks of lightning and roiling storm. I will return to the back of the line as you request before I do something we shall both regret. Ms. Sara, may I meet you in the market place in a few hours? It appears my wait in line may be longer than anticipated.

[Snowbody]

The guard responds to Alessa's indignance with a grunt. "Get moving."

Sara still doesn't get it. "What? You're not going in now? Whyever wouldn't you? You're next in line! Of course you can meet me in the square, I have a stall there."

When the guard isn't watching, Horace beckons Alessa to come over close to him.

[Shadow_Elf]

Alessa
She gives Horace a questioning glance. What is it? she asks, pausing in her progression towards the back.

[Snowbody]

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Aren't you going to respond to Sara?

Horace beckons her closer, and whispers to her, "I don't believe it. They don't do that to anybody, not even out-of-towners. They can't do that to anybody. If you file a complaint, I'll vouch for you."

[Shadow_Elf]

Alessa
To Sara (in the past): This kind guard would like me to return to the back of the line, and so, law-abiding guest of Winterhaven that I am, I shall comply. I promise to meet you at your stall before too long.

To Horace: Thank you, Horace. You are a good man; I shall file the complaint as soon as I am permitted entry.