Perched at the edge of civilized lands, the small town of Falcon’s Hollow has always had to rely on itself to solve its problems. Meanwhile,
the uncaring lumber barons squeeze the common folk for every last copper, deaf to their pleas. Now the hacking coughs of the sick are
heard throughout town. The plague has come to Falcon’s Hollow and the town’s leaders can’t be bothered to stop it.
For anyone living in or passing through Falcon's Hollow, the notices posted all over town read "Reward 35 gold. We have a cure for the plague and need to find ingredients. Interested be in my office one hand after sunrise tomorrow." Sheriff Baleson "
Day 1 06:00
As you enter the sheriff's office, you notice the only indication that he is law enforcement is his badge. He does not appear to be armed. A quick glance around the office reveals no weapons. You smell freshly brewed coffee. There is a small table with a pot and several cups on it. There is a safe behind his desk and a few empty jail cells are visible in the rear of the building. He is a friendly fellow and greets everyone as they enter.
"Howdy! I'm Sheriff Baleson, you can call me Deldrin if you like. Thanks for dropping in. Reckon you are here about that reward. Feel free to help yourself to the coffee over there. Nothing like a cup of coffee to get the day going."
Sheriff Baleson moves to the doorway and holds his hand to the horizon. "Mmmm...a few more minutes."
"I be ere' fer the reward aye, needs me some gold to help get backs to thee Five Kings Mountains. Seems like a simple enough job"
The Dwarf is maybe 4' tall, slender build compared to his stockier kin. He doesn't carry an Axe or hammer but a few daggers and a short sword. His clothing is dusty and his leather books are worn.
Rhen walks over and pours himself a cup of coffee.
Bulgard shuffles into the office, smelling of stale sweat and last night's cheap spirits. Under his worn, dusty traveling cloak he is lean and muscular, though he carries himself with a heavy slouch.
He doesn't say a word as he walks into the sheriff's office, poring over a tattered copy of the reward notice in his hands. After a few awkard moments, he looks up at the sheriff, then to the dwarf, then leans in close to the sheriff and speaks up quietly, almost a whisper.
"Is it t-t-true you're offering gold for some ingredients? I can get w-w-whatever you need out there"
"Yes, sir. The notice you hold is official. Rhen over there pointed out it should be a simple enough task. And you look like a man who could find anything. Care for a cup of coffee? We have a few more minutes to wait in case anyone else shows up."
"Yes. I like coffee. Helps me sh-sh-s%%* regular. Maybe I can work up a t-t-turd before we leave, sir"
He pours a cup of coffee for himself, then chugs it loudly.
The sheriff gets a little fidgety upon hearing Bulgard's coffee comment. He hopes to move things along faster than Bulgard's coffee moves things along. He moves to the doorway and holds his hand to the horizon. "Mmmm...a few more minutes."
A lively tune of whistles, hums, and non-verbal vocals precede a lithe silhouette against the morning sun. Zevon's ditty reaches a crescendo as he steps through the door. He casts Prestidigitation at the end to give the final note a bit of reverb.
"Good morning all. I am Zevon Vierding, here to lend my skills to aid the poor sods of Falcon's Hollow. Ahhh, coffee... don't mind if I do. Most gracious of you"
Sheriff Baleson holds his hand to the horizon. "Okay, let's get started"
"I want to thank you all for helping us find these life saving ingredients. If you do not already know, several dozen people in Falcon’s Hollow have contracted a fungal disease called blackscour taint. I hope none of you drank from Brookman’s well before we put notices around it. That was the source. While the malady is not exceptionally deadly, poor conditions and a general lack of supplies mean that many of the sick especially the elderly and young face mortal consequences. Slowly deteriorating, most of the afflicted can hang on for several more days, but already the weakest have succumbed, with their number growing daily. Laurel, the herbalist at Roots and Remedies, claims to have a cure but lacks some ingredients. She can give you the details of what is needed. She is at her store, Roots and Remedies. If you do not know where it is, just walk down the main street headed north. It will be the shop with a long line of sickly folk waiting to get in. Locate what she needs and I will give you each 35 gold. Are there any questions or concerns?"
"I am somewhat familiar with the establishment. Tell me, are there not others gifted with divine healing power that cannot come to the town's aid? Not to disparage Laural, my mother did similar work. I simply would not want to apply my brand of healing arts if the divine or arcane have already proved fruitless."
"This is true, Zevon. Falcon’s Hollow has few clerics. Only Lady Cirthana, a cleric of Iomedae, has shown any interest in stopping the illness. Her attempts at curing the illness have been fruitless. On top of that, the townsfolk trust Laurel more than they do Cirthana. At this point I believe Laurel and her ingredients are our best hope."
Heavy steps are heard as a tall muscular ulfen man walks into the office, lowering his head to pass through the door. Reinar carries his helmet under the left arm a his polearm rests on his right shoulder, he also has enough weapons in his belt to supply a small army.
"I come in your moment of necessity to free you all from this accursed disease.", he proclaims, loudly.
Rhen looks the big human up and down.
"Big bastard aren't ye? All the animals in the forest will know we are there with ye around. So we talk to the lass then head out and pick some flowers? Easiest money ever made."
Rhen goes to gets some more coffee.
Sheriff Baleson looks down at Rhen. "Now, We can't have you slowing things down with your stride, now can we. The sooner we find these ingredients, the sooner folks will stop dying. My youngest daughter has a pony she named Anastasia. Her most prized and beloved possession. I will fetch Anastasia for you and meet you at the apothecary." He waves you to door thanking you once again for your help.
Day 1 06:30
You travel up the main road north and you see creeping ivy and full window boxes cover the facade 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. If you try to break in line or bypass it, you will immediately be confronted by those desperate souls who have been waiting in that line for an hour.
"Fear not, weakened ones. As you can see we are more than healthy and come here not to rob you of your treatment but to help the one you call Laurel with making a cure for all of you!"
Reinar walks into the tent, confident that the sickened townsfolk wouldn't be able to stop him even if they tried.
As you attempt to break the line to get to the store, several men physically block your way, not believing your words. A DC of 1 would tell you they are ready to fight. When the others in line see what is happening, they all begin shouting angrily at you. Other townsfolk in the area stop and watch what is happening.
Rhen will just stand back and let the big man muck things up for himself.
"Sheriff doesn't think I can be fast enough, damn him. Better not be a white pony."
After a few moments Rhen will walk up beside Reinar.
"The big one tells ye the truth but we can await the sheriff."
"I been in this line an hour now. Walked two 'fore the sun came up. I got four sick chil'n at home. I ain't waitin another minute cause you happens to showed up. Get to the back or learn why my knuckles is so scarred." He coughs in your face.
Zevon steps into the gathering crowd, a look of genuine concern on his face. He throws back his short cloak and kneads his wide-brimmed cap in both hands as he addresses the angry patients.
"Friends, worry not. We are only hear to assist Mistress Laurel with her work. I am sure you will all get to know our faces in the coming days as we hasten you towards recovery. Now please, allow us to hasten to our work. Any time lost here only delays the administration of your remedy."
"We ain't yer friends. Cain't ye see that? We's been waitin here for the cure. You gonna wait too. Sooner we get these cures to our babies, the better. Now get to the back fore I whip you with me switch." She has a switch and raises it. "yer a pretty one. Mmmmmm."
Zevon kneels by a small child.
"I admire your devotion to your families. If you wish us to wait with you we will, but it will be for naught if my companions and I do not give assist. I assure you, we are only here to help."
He emits a deep hum and gestures towards the feverish child. Prestidigitation warms the child's clothes like a snug electric blanket.
"Maybe we could get together later today. I like a man with an earring. I usually get my way with them. Oh, you are so fine. No problem with this switch, I suppose"
Bulgard mutters under his breath
"No time to w-wait around here with our heads up our arses. If we waste time in th-this line, more folks is gonna d-d-die and we won't get our gold"
Bulgard quietly retreats from the crowd to some nearby rocky terrain and camouflaged himself in the hedges surrounding the town, intent on sneaking to the back door of the healer's house. He believes that she will want them out gathering ingredients as soon as possible
The door is locked.
Zevon, she playfully hits you with her switch and gives you an amorous smile.
Finding the door locked, bulgard realizes that the coffee has worked its miracles. He shuffles back into the woods to drop trow and have a BM. He sneaks back to the door and ponders his options. He raises his hand to knock, but decides the townsfolk might hear it and raise a fuss. He doesn't feel like killing innocents today. He needs the gold too badly.
He examines the simple-looking lock and tries to disable it.
Click, the lock opens.
Bulgard opens the door and enters the room, searching for the cure-making woman quietly, with his hands in the air, as if to say "i am here to help" and calls out-
"ma'am, the sheriff hired me and my men to fetch your ingredients. T t-townsfolk though, they won't let us through on account of the line. I'm n-n-n-n-not real good with words, so you best talk to my companion with the earring. He's out to h-h-help us get them ingredients to you"
Surprised by Bulgar's approach, Laurel draws a wand and says "what the eff, who the eff. Upon hearing Bulgars words she does not cast and says "Alright already bring him in, use the back door."
"I will gladly kill all of you in combat when you're healthy and can present an actual challenge, if that is what you want; now get out of my way so i can find your cure."
Reinar makes his way to the store, walking through whoeves tries to block him and defending himself if anyone attacks, but not hitting back.
"Much obliged. I assure you we will provide respite to your ailments as quickly as possible."
Zevon rolls his cap back onto his head and, after sending the common lady a wink, makes his way into the establishment.
@ Reinar
Let me get a map worked up. Did not see this one coming, but knew it was possible. Looks like you are going to squeeze every bit of fun out of this campaign. I will roll initiative for the group when it is ready. This is a town of 1,500. They have a gallows pole. You saw it when you exited the sheriff's office. Are you going to use lethal force? Make my day. Wahahahahaha. This could be a first. TPK-first time GM hangs entire party.
For your listening pleasure while I work on the map.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RSZca1Q9IWA&list=RDRSZca1Q9IWA&inde x=1
Bulgard exits through the back door and sneaks close to the rear of the line. Close to the door, it looks like the barbarian has made quite the spectacle and the crowd has gathered around him. He whistles the tune of a song bird to get zevon's attention and whispers loudly enough that only Zevon can hear"
"hey you with the earring. You best come talk to the healer. She said we can come in the back door. Watch your step, there's a pile of s!!$ by the door."
Hearing the ruckus that Reinar has started, Laurel goes to the door and yells at the crowd. "Did the sheriff send you? If he did, get yourself in here. And y'all let em on through. This won't take long."
The crowd backs off and lets you through.
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 over packed 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?”
"I need gold and you need ingredients. I know the land better than anyone. With these mongrels beside me, we can have your list supplied in no time."
“The recipe calls for some rare roots and concentrations, most of which I have here, but there’s three I don’t. Elderwood moss, which I’ve never heard of, but granny says the stuff only grows on the oldest tree in a forest. A specially pickled root called rat’s tail, again, sounds like hoojoo to me. And seven ironbloom mushrooms, stunty little things that only grow in dark places thick with metal, a favorite among dwarves, or so I hear.” She glances at Rhen and smiles.
Zevon slips in the open door, cast one more apologetic glance at the crowd.
"A pleasure to meet you Laurel. I am somewhat familiar with these plants. Rest assured we will make every effort to aid you in your endeavors here. Have you any advice on where to begin our search?
K Nature gets you nothing at this point. Diplomacy does get her moving in the right direction. "So these things ain't too hard to identify, it is just a matter of where to find them. 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 what she might want for it, but I doubt it’d come cheap. My grandmother 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.”
As Laurel describes the places these ingredients might be found you try to recall if you know of them.
Zevon
Zevon
Rhen
Zevon
Zevon
Reinar
Bulgar
Zevon
Zevon
Rhen
Zevon and Rhen, you know where the witch's hut is located.
An image forms in your mind
https://docs.google.com/drawings/d/1JSnf4uYRX7iRYmZ2GyB93hGsZDK3pDgB_c1J9d6 CseM/edit?usp=sharing
She looks at the group. "Well, y'all know where these things be?"