Sariel and Arun's checks reveal that approximately thirty villagers have contacted the disease so far. A handful have already died and the town is desperate to find a cure. The only clergy in town, a cleric of Iomedae named Lady Cirthana, has been unable to help. Instead, a young herbalist, named Laurel, has been treating the sick with minimal success.
Deldrin is surprised by the sudden appearance of the tail. Once he realizes what has happened, he chuckles. "There hasn't been much to laugh about the past few weeks. Did I hear you all say that you are here to help?"
The female barkeep turns to Arun. "Thank you. Two silver please. It's good to see new customers. Business has tanked since word of the plague has spread."
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Arun hands over the coins, his hunger suddenly shot through with guilt. Here I am indulging myself, and out there people are suffering. Just like before." Abruptly he rises. "Gentlemen let's finish here and see what we can do to help these good townsfolk. They need our aid."
His bushy tail wags enthusiastically.
"Aye. We be here to help." Khaz was leaning on his hammer as he said that, looking around at the assembled people. "Everyone here is a child o' Torag, whether they know it or not. I'll nay sit idly by while innocents suffer."
"Well then, this one suggests that perhaps it would be best to see what aid can be rendered to the herbalist...?"
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"Jean-Pierre, I confess my arts lie more with deception and distraction than with healing, but I agree with you. We ought to speak to the healer first and then and the cleric, to understand how, or even whether, our aid can be of assistance."
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Sariel nods his head, "Yes, speaking to the herbalist seems like a good place to start." Sariel draws out a silver piece and lays it on the bar, speaking to the barmaid. "We shall be back to spend a little more later. We will need food and lodging for the evening." He taps the coin with his finger. "Thank you for your assistance." Turning he speaks to the sheriff "A pleasure to meet you Sheriff, could you tell us where the herbalist lives?"
Once the sheriff gives him directions, Sariel lead the team that direction.
Sariel nods his head, "Yes, speaking to the herbalist seems like a good place to start." Sariel draws out a silver piece and lays it on the bar, speaking to the barmaid. "We shall be back to spend a little more later. We will need food and lodging for the evening." He taps the coin with his finger. "Thank you for your assistance." Turning he speaks to the sheriff "A pleasure to meet you Sheriff, could you tell us where the herbalist lives?"
Once the sheriff gives him directions, Sariel lead the team that direction.
The female barkeep picks up the silvers from Arun and Sariel. She places them in her apron. "With the plague, there are plenty of rooms available. Laurel's shop is called Roots and Remedies. It is just right up the street. It will be easy to spot. She is very busy right now as you can imagine."
The half-elf sheriff, Deldrin, speaks up. He slurs a bit as he speaks. "You find a cure to this cursed plague and I will make sure you are comfortable during your stay in the Hollow. My nephew was one of the first infected. Laurel says he only has a couple of days left if something doesn't happen." He chugs his mug of ale and slams it on the counter. He tosses the Barkeep a silver and stumbles out the door, nodding to you all on the way out.
The barkeep frowns as the sheriff leaves. "It has been rough on our tiny village. I am Talulah Sweetwater, but my friends call me Sweet. You may stay here for free as long as you are helping the people of Falcon's Hollow."
Flan gets up and whistles at Nanook. The wolf stands and comes to his side. "I will catch up with you all later. I have some business to check on." He relights his pipe and heads out the door.
Sairel nods to the sheriff "We will do what we can for your nephew." then turning to the Barmaid, "Thank you Sweet, both for the directions and the offer of a room. With your permission, I would prefer to pay for my room. You are a business owner and it is only proper to pay for services rendered. It will be my pleasure to help your people and pay my own way in the process."
Saluting the pleasant hafling as he exits. "Till we meet again Flanagan." Sariel turns to the group, "shall w go speak with Laurel?"
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As we proceed down the street towards Roots and Remedies, Arun notices the walled building to the left hand side of the street. He tries to recall the name of the local liege lord for this area, who would have responsibility for the care of these common folk. Is there anything he knows about this?
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Free room and board as long as I'm helping, you're dang fliping right I'm helping
"Perhaps we can help you all. Perhaps. I can only promise that we will try."
Arms outstretched, Avogadro spins indicating his words for all in the bar. Making his way out of the bar to follow the others he stops on the threshold and looks over his shoulder to the lady sitting at the bar. Striding back and reaching behind her head he produces another slightly discheveled flower, this one is a huge oversized daisy.
"The yellow and white is a better match for eyes as wonderful as your's."
With a wink he lopes across the floor and is gone.
Khaz sighs and shakes his head at Avogadro's antics, and at Sariel turning down the offer for room and board. Speak for yourself, he thought. This was payment for service rendered, not charity.
"Aye, let's go speak with this Laurel, an' get to the bottom of this."
Creeping ivy and full window boxes cover the façade of the rugged-looking, two-story shop bearing the faded sign “Roots and Remedies.” A line of twenty-some somber townsfolk—some with pale, wheezing children, others seeming to be precipitously near tears—stretches from the open door.
You all wait over an hour to get your turn inside the shop. During this time, kids cough and sneeze all around you. Villagers wait both patiently and impatiently as the time passes. But Alas...you finally enter the Roots and Remedies.
The smell of burnt earth and spicy incense chokes the air of the cramped, mud-tracked shop. Bunches of dried herbs hang from the ceiling, along with dangling pots, presses, alchemical apparatuses, and glassware of more arcane purposes. Pouches of rare plants, jars of colored glass, and all manner of dried, preserved, and jellied animal parts fill high shelves and tables doing double duty as displays and workspaces. In the shop’s rear, a rail-thin woman with severe-looking spectacles and hair pulled back tightly busies herself between an overpacked rack of herbs, a table covered in stray powders and measuring equipment, and a pot loudly bubbling over with thick gray froth. Over the din of her work and without looking up, the woman impatiently shouts, “And what’s your problem?”
"Aye, we be here because o' the plague. The lot o' us could't stand idle while innocents be sufferin.' Sariel said that ye could be usin' some hands to gather some regents an' whatnot."
Sariel, nods his head in agreement with Khaz, "Yes our fin follower of Torag is correct, we are here to help. Is there anything you can tell us that may help. Or is there anything we can do to be of assistance to you?"
Avogadro folds, ducking low through the doorway so as not to disturb his hat or the white raven sat upon it.
While the others are talking to Laurel, Avoagdro peruses the premises; sniffing this and that, dipping a finger in that one.
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"ይህ ሰው መርዝ, ሰነፍ የሚመለከቷቸው ይህ በምላስህ እየሄደ ነው"
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Avogadro is about to pop a blue stained finger in his mouth when he remembers the free lodging. Wiping the digit clean he turns to Laurel
"Our services are rendered unto you for the duration, I'm not sure which duration but that is a matter for other times. We are your arms and your legs, send us where you will desires... unless it's dangerous"
Laurel softens a bit as she realizes you are here to help. "Thank the gods. Everyone in this village thinks I am a healer or something. We've got people dying and I'm getting every snotty nosed kid being brought to me." She turns and smiles at Sariel. "Do you mind grabbing me that sage root, honey?" Laurel points to a root handing on a spike near the ceiling.
She turns and takes a good look at all of you. "OK...shops closed for the day. I need some time with these gentlemen...you heard me...out." She takes a broom and gently, yet quickly herds the villagers out. Once they are gone, she flips a sign in the window and locks the door.
"You are just the type I have been looking for. I think I have found a recipe in my Mother's book that may help the plague. The problem is that I need three specific substances that I am unable to obtain. If you really are willing to help, I need you to travel and obtain these substances. You will have to hurry though. It will take time to travel and we are going to have people dying on a daily basis."
"We be here to help. Where be yon substances and how shall we recognize them?"
Jean-Pierre nods solemnly.
"What are these substances, and where can we find them?"
Laurel retrieves a book and opens it, thumbing to a certain page. "Here it is...The substances are some rare roots and concentrations.The first is Elderwood moss, which I’ve never heard of, but my granny says the stuff only grows on the oldest tree in a forest. The second is specially pickled root called rat’s tail, again, sounds like hoojoo to me. And the last substance is seven ironbloom mushrooms, stunty little things that only grow in dark places thick with metal, a favorite among dwarves, or so I hear.”
"...where can we find them?"
She continues, " “Well, for the elderwood mold, there’s gotta be an oldest tree in the vale. Damned if I know where it is, though. The rat’s tail and mushrooms are even longer shots. Way north, toward the mountains, people say there used to live a bunch of dwarves. They’re not there anymore, but I’d bet their forges are. If you can find ironbloom anywhere around here, that’d be your best bet. As for the rat’s tail, who knows? Well. Actually. Ulizmila, the witch that lives deep in the woods might. She’s a crafty, mean thing that knows all sorts of strangeness. She might even have one. I don’t know whatshe might want for it, but I doubt it’d come cheap. My mother traded her sight to the old crone for a few pages of what she knew, and that was years and years back, and I don’t know a soul who got any nicer as they got older.”
She thinks for a minute and then continues again, "I'd probably head to the Consortium Lumber Camp to the east and look for Milon Rhoddam. He is the most experienced woodsman in the Lumber Consortium. He could probably get you on the right path."
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Arun nods at the questions Jean-Pierre and Khaz put to the herbalist. He contributes to the discussion, "If lives are at stake, then speed is of the essence. Who should we talk to in the village to obtain borrowed horses, terrain allowing, to add to our haste? Plus, we will need reliable directions, and a guide or a decent map." He looks around the party "Are we all comfortable on a horse, or do we need to walk?". He turns to Laurel again "Are these ingredients you seek to be found in areas of peril? What dangers should we be aware of?I do apologise good lady for all these questions, but we have only the best intentions for aiding the townsfolk."
Whilst Laurel is providing answers to the party's many questions, Arun tries two things. First, he assesses Laurel's mental state - she appears tired and stressed, but is she genuine in her care for the townsfolk? .
Second, he glances about the herbalist's store, looking for a phial of a liquid with bleaching properties .
Laurel thinks for a minute. "I am not sure there are any horses available..." She pulls out a piece of parchment and draws a quick, crude map to the Lumbar Camp . She hands Sariel the map. "Of course the Darkmoon Vale is dangerous. The only threat I really know of for sure though is the witch. She is wicked. Maybe you can barter with her. I warn you though. She likes to trick people."
You sense that she is very tired and that she truly cares for the villagers. She definitely wants to end the plague. You also think she may be OK with selling snake oil now and then to support herself, but that she would never do anything to harm anyone.
You do find a bottle with some liquid that looks like it could be a form of bleach.
It has been over a week since you have encountered civilization. You stop in the shade to check the weather, while foraging for food. Since entering the Darkmoon Vale, you have become increasingly concerned for your safety. You were able to narrowly avoid an owlbear who was tracking you by scent the day before and you are well aware that there is strength in numbers. You are currently following a river, sure that you will find a village soon. One of you major goals for this expedition is to find an animal for companionship.
"Dwarven ruins? Truly, the forgefather had purpose in sending me here. I believe ye all know where I vote we be goin to first."
'Honey?' Sariel smiles and nods blushing a little, "It would be a pleasure." reaching up and taking down the sage root. HE hands it to her. Smiling as she shoos the people out of her shop so she can talk exclusively with the rag tag band.
'Three substances, doesn't sound that difficult if we find someone to get us there and someone to identify them. Dealing with a witch may be more difficult. I hope the consortium values the lives of these people and will allow this Milon Rhoddam to accompany us.' Listening politely as the other ask question, Sariel nods to the thin woman. "Thank you for the map, Miss Laurel, we will do our best. Hopefully the Consortium will allow Master Rhoddam to accompany us."
Waiting to see if there were any more questions, Sariel give the herbalist a bow, "We will deal with the witch cautiously, they are not to be underestimated or trusted." He looks around, lowering his eyes. "Or so I've been told."
Smiling at Khaz's statement, patting him on the shoulder. "We can appreciate your desire, Master Khaz. But as you know, learning where the location is, takes president over trying to find it willy-nilly. Lets go speak to this Rhoddam at the consortium first. Then we will approach our locations based on proximity so we may return as quickly as possible."
Turning to go, then stopping and turning back, he asks Laurel. "If there were a livery, or someplace to rent a few mounts, where would it be?"
** spoiler omitted **
As you are collecting nuts and berries, you come across some odd tracks. They appear to be paw prints of a fox, but they are a bit different. Your interest is peaked. You are easily able to use your tracking skills to locate the direction of the creature...
Laurel nods her head no. "We are too small a village for that. You could ask villagers I guess, but I doubt they would allow their horses to go. They rely on them to survive."
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"Aye, aye. To Rhoddam then. Ye speak wisely. An' nay worry 'bout the horses. Torag forged us all with two legs to walk on, afterall."
The group bids Laurel farewell and prepares for the journey to the Lumbar Camp. Even with the map, you are concerned about navigating the Darkmoon Vale without a skilled woodsman. A guide will probably be required to find the three locations that Laurel mentioned. You collect the supplies you need for the journey and head out of Falcon's Hollow.
The start of the journey is easy. You head northeast on a well worn path. You travel for about an hour and a half when you come to a bridge that crosses a sizable creek. The water is rushing briskly, but you are still able to hear the cries of an injured animal in the distance. The sound appears to be coming from the land on the other side of the creek.
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Jean-Pierre proves to be surprisingly perceptive, much more comfortable now that he is out of the confines of the village.
As you crest a hill, you immediately see two things. The first is a group of five adventurers walking up a path from the South about to cross a bridge to your side of the creek. The other is three predator birds circling the creature that was making the pitiful crying sounds. As you strain to look closer, you see that the whining creature is actually some kind of fox-like animal caught in a crude iron trap. One of its hind legs appears broken and bleeding profusely.
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On the road to the woodcutter camp, Arun will engage Khaz in conversation about forging techniques and experiences.
He will also feed the white raven a few crumbs from his rations. "እነሆ, ጓደኛ ሬቨን. አንድ ጓደኛ ከ አንድ ስጦታ."
As he approaches the bridge, "So friend Khaz, what views do you have on those who commend the quenching of steel blades in animal oils, rather than in water?"
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Khaz beamed at smile at Arun, glad to have a conversation so enjoyable and holy. "My good man, I have heard smiths swear upon the effectiveness of the strangest practices. I have heard that a blade should be cooled in water, in animal oil, in lard...even blood! For me, I say that it matters on how fast you want the metal to cool. Air cool for the slowest, then oil, then water, an' finally salt water when ye need it done right quick. I, meself, prefer animal oil. If yer coolin' thin steel, ye'll want to cool it slower, or ye'll make the metal brittle! I-, but mind me manners, ye got me talkin.' Yer a smith yerself, what's yer opinion?"
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"Khaz, I spent enough time with my father and brothers to fill a week with the merits of tempering at different temperatures and in different coolants. For my own account, I mostly used water, but then my speciality was decorative work. Not for me the work of the armourer or weaponsmith." Arun smiles and leans back, expecting a distainful 'harumph' from the dwarf. "A village runs on iron, and not all a smith's work is weaponry. Buckles, gates, lockworkings, nails. That is honest work, and all the more satisfying for it.
"Aye lad! War is a necessary evil, it be honorable to do the forgefather's work during peace. Ye be a good lad. Now about..."
After leaving the pleasant little shop, Sariel follows with the other members enjoying the conversation about smithing, 'It reminds me of my uncle and his friend...What was that?
Nearing the bridge on the north-east path, Sariel thought he heard the sound of an injured animal. He points across the bridge. "Did anyone else hear that? It sounded like an injured animal."
The group moves closer to the bridge and immediately notices two things. First, there is a human male moving from the west to the east on the far side of the creek. The other is three predatory birds are circling overhead of the creature that was making the pitiful crying sounds. As you strain to look closer, you see that the whining creature is actually some kind of fox-like animal caught in a crude iron trap. One of its hind legs appears broken and bleeding profusely.
As you move forward with the others, your keen senses make out a figure crouching behind a tree in the northeast corner.
PARTY is up!
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"What is this?" Arun stops, holding his hand up to shade his eyes for a better look, "Gentlemen, I see a second figure, a man, in the woods to the north east!"
Arun draws his crossbow and prepares to cast daze on any creature that approaches the party with open aggressive intent
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"Oi! Hold up. We don't know who he is. Probably just a traveler, or a trapper. Besides, what would one man do to us? Let's go talk to him, an' assure him we aren't here to steal his catch. We probably look like a band of ruffians."
'I don't like the use of the trap, if he has legal right, I can't stop it though.' Sariel frowns, but nods in agreement "A trapper probably, either way no reason to let the birds torture the trapped animal more or steal the trappers catch." Sariel squints to see what was flying over the trapped creature.
Moving forward he draws his sling, putting a bullet into it. He begins spinning it over head firing it at one of the birds. Calling out to the stranger, "Ho, stranger, is that perchance your trap?"
a right group of do gooders I've found myself with here, all 'charge in and save the day'... Surefire way to loose your hat that
Holding his hat on with both hands Avogadro moves forward staying well to the safe side of Sariel, trying to get a better look at what's going on. The white raven flutters up to fly above him
Jean-Pierre nods to Sariel and Khaz, then, sword over his shoulder (but not actively being wielded), moseys over to get a closer look at the 'hidden' figure.