"Well, I know a couple of the fellas, I'll let them know. They want to see you tonight at their meeting." Gwalachmai replies.

OK, it's now the afternoon and Gavyn has been outfitted. Ghindor - if you wish to, please note Gavyn now has leather armour, a spear and shield, as well as his knife. He has the damage dice of a Fighter and an AC of 15.

He also has +0 to hit and 5HP.

Gavyn mutters to Ghindor, "I'll skip yer meetin' with them , boss. Gotta help me Da. Just let me know what the plan is later."

Later that day, Gwalachmai escorts the group to the council meeting; once inside the rather plain building, the new friends see that the council comprises some familiar faces: Connar the harbourmaster, Ynyr Glasseg the merchant, as well as others who are less so such as the Captain of the militia and other merchants.

Looks pass between them that vary from puzzlement to gratitude.

"So... you're the ones who want to go look at the old house?" Glasseg eventually asks.

"The fates are leading us there it seems. Can you help us?"

Connar looks pained, "Gabra, look lass, really what we need to know is, do you think you're up to the job of investigatin' the place, given that it's haunted? There's men here fear for their lives and souls goin' there, and... well... is it just you four?" he asks.

"Why should I, of all people, fear death or the dead? And I do not stand alone. You all know Cunorix's strength of faith. Byggvir's swordarm is strong, and Ghindor is well known to you. Who has ever defeated him? Even Gavyn trusts us enough to go."

Gabra smiles. "We may be following an odd path, but I think it is our path."

The Captain, a dark-haired man, looks with narrowed eyes at Gabra, "Hold. Did you say Gavyn? Gavyn Fisher? I see. You have taken one of my militiamen without my permission, and now you expect some sort of reward for taking a trained man on some fool expedition. " he says with a distinct edge. The feeling in the room grows very tense, and chilly. His eyes bore into the young seeress.

Horribly aware that she's jeopardised the whole group, Gabra struggles to put matters right.

"Sir, it is in the interests of all Saltmarsh that whatever wrong has been committed at the old mansion is righted. Sometimes a single, well-placed strike will behead a greater menace. If we can overcome whatever lurks behind this horror, Gavyn may serve the town better than he already does."

She stutters to a halt, hoping that one of her companions can put a better case.

"So whatta yer saying is dat ya dunno when yer own warriors leave da field, AND ya dunno why problems have visitted ya here in Saltamarsh?

"Maybe ol' man Fisher's boy canna be doin' both- helpin' us an' helpin' yer so-calleda army, too. At leasta know dat he'll be bettera armed and equipped dan when we found him- in exchange for his momentary absence, he can keep his gear in your future service. I mean- looka dat fine tanned leather armor, huh? Doesn'ta come cheap. Young man here looks like he wants ta make a difference. Let 'im. He'll be back ta doin' whate'er was he did fer ya before ya know whatta happened."

Thank you, low Charisma, for your blunt diplomacy!

Byggvir, seeing the situation beginning to spiral out of control looks to the captain and then his new friends. He then reaches for his hood and before everyone gathered, removes it, revealing his elven features. He then bows low before the Council.

"Forgive us our arrogance and ignorance Captain Ossian. Allow us now to ask your permission. Will you please allow us to take one of your men, Gavyn Fisher, with us on this mission."

[ooc]I roll a diplomacy check .... oops, wrong edition![/poc]

Remember, Gavyn isn't there. Wonder why? ;D

Well, he said he was going to help his da. Gabra believed him. Huge apologies if the girl's bogged us up.

All the councilmen pause and then there is much blinking and a couple of intakes of breath.

"Well, huh, hrmph, the- er- well..." Ossian blusters feebly.

A new voice speaks up, old Vedrig, keeper of the shrine of Njord, "What the Captain means is, that of course that would be acceptable." the weatherbeaten priest says dryly. "We are honoured." he adds quietly to Byggvir in Elven.

"Yes, indeed, well, er... it seems we are all getting a little hasty here." Glasseg says, re-asserting the authority that Byggvir saw yesterday. "Now, look, this certainly puts things in a different light, with one of the Fair Folk willing to help us. So, you're off to this evil place? Well, let me put it this way: should you go there, and return to let us know what foulness is afoot there, we can certainly make it worth your while."

Everyone have 50XP for continued awesomeness. I could not have planned such fantastic moments as Gabra dropping you in it, and Byggvir's revelation.

Well thank you kind sir :D A fine reward for nearly bogging up the whole expedition.

... Well, let me put it this way: should you go there, and return to let us know what foulness is afoot there, we can certainly make it worth your while."

About what time of day is it, now- roughly?

Ghindor looks forward to adventure and showing off some impressive moves he learned as a gladiator. Now, however, he seeks to re-find some tranquility and peace before going of to whatever might be his likely death. Ghindor the Grim will briefly bid farewell to his friends and make known his intention of visiting the Shrine to Njord. He will also scout for his lost hireling...grrr...
Ghindor will look to be gone in these activities until the next meal (he will fast in prayer) or at such appointed time agreed upon by his fellows.

The meeting is/was in the evening.

Gavyn told you he was going home. Albeit rather obliquely... Byggvir -a new day, a new class?

Morning comes, and you make your preparations to go to the haunted house. Ghindor finds Gavyn outside his father's house, dozing outside. After some shrugged shoulders and rather vapid excuses, Gavyn (slowly) gets ready.

Eventually, you are all prepared, and make your way on the coastal road west to the haunted house. A small crowd has gathered to cheer you on. Word obviously gets around fast! Impressionable small children and young people attracted by your bravery tag along with you for a mile or so, but eventually even they give up and go back home, leaving you to make the rest of the journey on your own.

You still have just under three miles to travel to the old alchemist's mansion, and the day is a grey cheerless one.

Gabra finds the unexpected admiration rather hard to take.

"We haven't done anything yet," she mutters under her breath.

Once the crowd is gone Byggvir removes his hood.

"That's better."

Yeah, today I'll be acting like a Magic-User.

"Dey liked me...dey really liked me," sniffs Ghindor. The small crowd and their sentiments of support deeply moved the otherwise dour man.

Cunorix waves and smiles to the gathered folk.

"Ah, don't be worried for us. It's nothing but a short jaunt there and back."

You march for another hour or so down the coastal road, and there it is... a large old house, which would have been rather grand, but is now delapidated and ominous.

Any obvious ways in?

"Are we just going to knock on the door?" Gabra's tone suggests that she doesn't think this is the best idea ever.

"Nah, girl. Waitta and watch. Let's try and find some cover, and see who or whatta else mightta wander in here. We should take differentta locations and meeta back in a while ta talk aboutta whatta we see."

What time of the day is it?

What time of the day is it?

Noon indeed.

A great iron gate lies on the coast road, but the 6 foot high walls around the house are partially broken in places, so that access to any part of the garden is easy. The old poacher told you of a back entrance, to the east of which was a well in the garden.

The house itself sits 80 feet away from the edge of a 70 foot cliff, the waves crashing below.

The gate stands open and what you can see of the garden is overgrown, and shows no sign of any care for years.

"The garden?"

"Aye. The front is a good an approach as any."

"Acht...we should be careful. I dunna like dis, 'justta walk rightta in' approach. I'll check outta da well, AFTER I lead dis group inta da garden." Ghindor's approach invites little discussion about his determination to lead the group into the garden, if indeed is the plan of the day. His resolve seems as firm as his hammer.

"Cunorix, we should stay together. I am in a stranger's world and will heed Ghindor."

Gabra will follow Ghindor into the garden and watch for anything that looks hazardous or helpful.

As will Cunorix.

Byggvir moves up last into the garden behind the others.

"I trust your wisdom on this Ghindor."

"Everyone, ready whatever you decide is your weapon. Fisher boy Gavyn...you stands nextta me."

Ghindor will approachthe scene cautiously...

Taking out her sling and absently holding a stone in her other hand, Gabra walks carefully behind Ghindor.

The group makes its way through the overgrown garden, now rank with weeds. The go to the well that the poacher described to find that it is 5 feet in diameter and looks to be perhaps 15 feet deep. The wind rustles through the undergrowth.

The door to the scullery is in plain sight.

Ghindor pokes at the ground near the well, using his 10' pole, the ascertain general sturdiness.

If the ground seems viable, Ghindor will approach the well and peer into it.

If the well seems dark, with no noises other than water at best, Ghindor will light a torch and drop it into the well...and wait.

Gabra hovers nervously, alert for any sounds and watching Ghindor.

Ghindor indeed sees only darkness, and finds nothing suspect with his very long pole. He lights a torch and drops it down the well. You hear a splash and hiss, as the torch is drenched.

"Ahhh...tis but a watery well. Let's abandon foolish nightmares and search outta dis place by usin' da fronta door!"

Disappointed for lack of immediate violence, Ghindor plods away from the well and reoirients himself toward the front door...10' pole in hand and sweeping/poking the grasses and pathway before him.

"C'mere, boy!" Ghindor verbally commands young Gavyen to him with emphatic gestures. The smaller fighting man looks to impart great exploration wisdom to the local fisherman-turned-soldier-turned-adventurer. As Gavyn approaches, Ghindor begins to explain why he did what he has just done, and begins retelling the warning story of Hammel the One-Handed, a restless theif who unsuccessfully reached into a secret treasure spot without first testing it for traps. Those party members out of whispering earshot might be amused or alarmed to see the red-haired man pantomime a decapitated hand, like Hammel's, during the retelling.

What's our marching order? I have plate armor, and am willing to take front or rear.

I assumed the short guy up front, with spear guy behind him might work well...as long as new spear guy doesn't accidently stab me! I'm okay to change up some things, though...

Gabra's all kitted up with her sling at the moment, so if she hovers at the back with Cunorix, maybe Byggvir can give us the benefit of his elven eyesight in the middle. Ghindor and Gavyn leading.

Which door are we aiming at? The scullery door in the garden or the front door? Scullery door sounds a bit more sensible.

"To the scullery door, all."

Gavyn nods absently as Ghindor gives his advice and orders. He yawns occasionally and dawdles as the group make their way through the rank weeds.

The new friends can see that the house is 35 feet tall from ground to roof ridge; the roof is peak-pointed and gabled, with several holes from missing slates.

The door described by the old drunken poacher is closed.