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Retropost
Herral takes the gold piece in thanks and smiles at Davi. He slaps his forehead as he remembers. The halfling opens a bag and shows them Alicette's 25 gold. He hands over four gold pieces and two silvers to each of them and keeps the rest for himself.
"This be penitence or treasure or just payment for beating them Black Banners. Now I gots an address for me sister Violar of Burrowbank-by-the-Millpond. Tis a nice halfling hole be all accounts."
Herral:
Herral's last letter from the Martels told him to stop by their stall in the "Low Market" of Falcon's Hollow during the day (with a note that the market is on the southern edge of town by the river), or at their home at Burrowbank-by-the-Millpond if it's after dark. Well, the river is in easy sight from where Herral is, and finding the way south is simple enough, so the halfling has a good notion of what direction to go.
The town's streets are empty, and the situation doesn't improve when he arrives at what must be the low market - a small circle of stalls and booths run by vendors. The vendors are selling a variety of lowbrow fare: heavily salted meats, ale, moonshine, and some other questionable foodstuffs. Business doesn't seem to be booming this afternoon, that's for sure.
One stand stands out among the rest: a small cart-bound booth with a colorful sign proclaiming "Violar's Famous Hinny Pies!" Strangely enough, Violar herself is not at the booth, instead only her husband, Tinkin mans it today. He looks unusually tired, and less fat than usual (though still pretty fat). The pies he is selling have seen better days as well, unlike the ones Herral is used to, these look malformed and have been baked unevenly, with huge black burns on a few of them.
He glances up at Herral, not noticing his approach until he's almost right at him. "Oh! Desna be praised, tis my gud brother-in-law 'erral!" He is interrupted by a short, but intense, coughing fit. "I wuz wonderin' when I'd be seein' yer face 'round 'ere. Violar wuz worried 'bout ye."
Herral hugs the slim down Tinkin and finds his thinness strange. That and the burnt pies bring a frown to his face and he holds the man close and looks him in the eyes.
"So? 'Ows me pretty little Sis? I bin travellin' 'ere since last with naught to stop me 'cept...well nothing truly."
"Violar's back at home. She an' me got whatever's bin goin' 'round, 'n she didn't feel up ta workin' the booth today. I did try to bake them hinny pies like she always does but I doan have 'er touch." He chuckles weakly, which ends up exacerbating his cough. Once he's done hacking (he at least has the courtesy to aim his cough away from the pies and Herral) he turns back to Herral. "Still it costs us un arm n' both legs to keep this stall open fer the taxes, so I had to come work the stall today without 'er..." He sighs. "Oim sure that seein' yer purdy face'd cheer 'er up nice and good, though!"
The halfling keeps hold of him and shakes his head making a decision, "P'haps today I be 'ere an' lets go see Violar together. As fur taxes I come into a piece of gold or two an' I'ul pay them taxes. Tis family and rest youm need. I'ul 'elp you tidy this stall, yes?"
Tinkin coughs, pulling away from Herral and shaking his head stubbornly. "No no no, the lumberjacks'll be headin' home from the cutyard any time now, and they'll be buyin' all... them ...pies" He grabs hold of the edge of the stall, suddenly dizzy. "Gotta keep the stall..." He swoons and collapses to the ground. His brow is sweaty, and feverish.
Adrac smiles at Soroza's ribbing. "Well, I've little doubt that I'll be showing her off soon enough. May as well meet her now, yes?" However, his smile fades slightly as he stands a couple yards from the front door of the Rhaddyn house. "Ah... so this is it. Thank you, Anthony."
Adrac stood stock still for a little while, unsure what to expect on the other side. Not exactly, anyways. Up to this point, the anticipation had kept him going, but now that he was finally about to meet his daughter-in-law and granddaughter... what could he expect?
No use waiting here. This is it..! he thought, before inhaling and stepping up to the door. He raised a fist and knocked calmly on the door, firm, but still polite. After a moment, a young woman peered out. Was this her..? By Irori's touch, she looked weary. It was all he could do not to immediately reach out and hug her to ease her exhaustion. Manners first.
"Ah... you must Sarsia Rhaddyn, yes? A true treasure to meet you. I don't suppose you'd recognize me, but... my name is Adrac Rhaddyn. I... believe you are my daughter-in-law, yes?" Adrac bowed low and politely, before straightening back up. "My apologies for the sudden arrival, but... after receiving Dalton's letter, I could not wait another moment to meet you all. You... have no idea how much of a pleasure it is to finally see you in person."
"Oh!" Sarsia stands up straight with a start, and peers at Adrac closely. Her sunken eyes light up, and she embraces Adrac suddenly and firmly. "Oh, goodness. You look just like Dalton. Please, come in. Your friends as well."
She glances at Anthony, and smiles in recognition - he has a very distinct face, after all. "You must be Anthony. It's nice to meet you. Dalton tells me you didn't stay at the cutyard long, hm?" She opens the door for the group. Inside the cabin is very small, only two rooms. The common room functions as a dining area, a kitchen, and a small bedroom.
"I'm afraid this isn't the best time..." she trails off, looking at little Cassia on the bed in the corner. She is curled up, pale as snow and sweaty, fast in what looks to be an uneasy sleep. She has long, curly brown hair, Sarsia's heart-shaped face and undoubtedly Adrac's nose and brow, which at the moment is contorted in a painful grimace.
"This is our little Cassia. She's been so sick. It came on so fast...and she just keeps getting worse." She sits at the foot of her bed, barely holding back her tears.
Adrac returns the hug firmly, smiling to himself at it. Ah! She's got quite the grip! Hahaha, she reminds me of Amari... Standing back and placing his hands on her shoulders, he smiled, nodding. "Thank you, Sarsia. I apologize for the sudden arrival and my... extra company. But I could not bear to wait to find you."
Stepping inside, he looked about, taking in the simple surroundings and frowning ever so slightly. Much as he liked simplicity, this might be pushing it a bit. But at Sarsia's introduction of Cassia, Adrac immediately rushed to the bedside, kneeling on the floor next to it. Frowning deeply, he ran a hand over her head, trying instinctively to ease her pain. "Irori's touch, she looks awful... is there no physician in Falcon's Hollow? Or a healer or priest?"
Sarsia shakes her head, her brow furrowed with worry. "We already took her to the church of Iomedae and the cleric there couldn't help her. Dalton and I talked about taking a trip to Oregent but it's been raining so much lately it would probably just make it worst....and to top it all off, Laurel, the town alchemist, has been gone on a trip this past week, and who knows when she'll be back..."
Adrac's eyes darted up to Sarsia's at mention of Laurel being gone. "Laurel? Would she have access to some cure?" Adrac looked back at the others - his usually calm and gentle eyes have been replaced with fear and concern. "Anthony. You know her, yes? Would she have the ability to treat this?"
Davi follows the group to Adrac's son's house. She hangs back and lets Adrac do the talking. The sight of Cassia laying sick on the bed pulls at her heartstrings. "We should get Laurel. I'm sure she can help"
Anthony studies the child for a moment, furrowing his brow. To Adrac he replies, "I'm unsure... She isn't actually a physician, but it's worth a try." He asks Sarsia, "What are her symptoms? How long has this been going on? Be thorough please." He's no physician himself, but it would be good to tell Laurel to see if she can come up with a diagnosis sooner.
Sarsia replies, "It started with a cough... then it turned into vertigo... and a fever. And then she started coughing up blood. Now she's too weak to do much but lay and sleep." She glances at the group imploringly. "Please...if Laurel is back, could you go see her and ask if she has any medicine? I can't leave her side."
Anthony nods, "I will, we just returned with her. Sir, you can wait here for your son to return, I can get Laurel to help" He ducks through the doorway and makes his way to Laurel's shop at a light jog.
When he gets to Laurel he greets her, "Hi Laurel, good to see you so soon too. Adrac's granddaughter is sick and it's bad. Could you help?" He proceeds to recite the symptoms Sarsia have him to see if she knows what it is.
Adrac nodded, his concern turned to determination. It was almost surreal - the kindly image of the old grandfather was replaced by a fierce fire. As if years of travel, experiences and hardship had suddenly returned in one instant. He didn't seem like the old man he'd been masquerading as anymore.
Turning back, Adrac took both of Sarsia's hands and held them tightly. "Sarsia... please try to get some rest. I know I ask the impossible - believe me, I know - Cassia's condition cannot be improved with worry. I will find her cure. You have my word." Adrac hugged her again, smiling back at her. "Tell Dalton that his daughter is safe... her grandfather will find a cure."
Adrac stood back up, turning to Anthony and nodding. "Lead the way, Anthony." he ordered, following along after him.
Sarsia hugs Adrac back, tears falling down her face. "Alright. I'll let him know."
Anthony and the rest of the group arrive at Roots and Remedies, Laurel's shop. It is a two-story log building with creeping ivy and flowering window boxes covering its facade. A line of thirty or so somber looking townsfolk-- some with pale, wheezing children, others seeming to be precipitously near tears-- stretch from the open door.
Perched on 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 commonfolk for every last copper, deaf to their pleas. Now the hacking coughs of the sick are heard throughout the town. The plague has come to Falcon's Hollow, and the town's leaders won't do a damn thing to stop it.
Thankfully, Anthony has the key to the back door, or else it could have been an hour long wait to get inside. Inside, 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, Laurel looks more frazzled than usual, her green robes covered in fresh stains and more than a few burns. She has her back to the group, currently busied 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 barks, "Hold on one damn minute, whoever you are." She finally turns and looks up. "Oh, I'm sorry. I told you I figured this town went to Hell in a handbasket with me gone. What is it that you need? I'm a little busy."
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Passing by the line of people, Adrac could make out bits and pieces of conversation. It sounded as if most of these folks were deathly ill... or at the very least, thought they had it.
"God, I'm dying of thirst."
"There was some other guy here a while ago handing out water. Looked like a cleric of Torag."
"A dwarf?"
"Nah, actually some human guy. Wish I could remember his name. Furd? Frod? ...yeah, I think it was Frod. Nice guy, little weird. Said something about there being dwarven ruins in the forest."
"Well where is he now? I could use some of that damned water!"
"Sounded like he and a couple other locals were heading into the woods. Poor bastards..."
Adrac shook his head. Sounded like a few brave souls already attempted to tackle the forest... he quietly hoped they were safe out there. Wherever they'd gone...
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Adrac followed Anthony in through the back, striding up to Laurel with fire in his eyes. "My granddaughter is sick with whatever this is that's going around. What do you need to make a cure?"
Laurel listens to Adrac and Anthony's story with a sympathetic look. "Well, no offense, but she's not alone. I've been dealing with this for the past hour and a half or so, and it looks like a case of blackscour taint. It's a sickness caused by a kind of mold... kind of strange for it to crop up around here, but anyhow, it eats away in your lungs and belly all tenaciously. Your body near turns itself inside-out trying to hack the stuff up, but all that does it cuts your guts up... bad. It's honestly not that lethal in adults, but in children, and the old, well... that's a different story. They tell me we already had a death while I was away."
Her brow furrows, and her usual scowl gives way to a despondent expression. "I... really don't know of a cure. I'm trying my best here, really." She runs her fingers through her dreadlocks, leaning against the table.
She looks distant for a moment, and pulls an old, weathered leather-bound book off the shelf, with a strange symbol on the cover. She flicks through it for a minute.
"There's...something else. Something I haven't tried, from my grandmother's old book. A cure-all." She scoffs. "Cure-alls. Sounds like damn hoojoo, not real medicine. Anyway, I would have whipped it together out of desperation, but I'm missing a couple of the key ingredients. Elderwood moss, which I've never heard of, but in the margins it says the stuff only grows on the oldest tree in the forest. A specially pickled root called rat's tail, again, sounds like a bunch of hoojoo, right? Oh, and seven ironbloom mushrooms, I know what those are. Stunty little things that only grow in dark places thick with metal, a favorite among dwarves, or so I hear."
Adrac's expression simply grows sterner at Laurel's admission. This was unacceptable. He'd come so far... too far. He would not let his little granddaughter slip through his fingers so soon.
But at the mention of the cure-all, his eyes flickered a bit. Listening quietly, he looked over her shoulder at the book's recipe, studying it. "...I've seen this before!" he exclaimed, standing up quickly and turning to run a hand over his beard. "Not the recipe itself, but... during my adventuring days, we were in dire need of a cure for a village, much like this. Went to visit a lizardfolk witchdoctor, and I remember him brewing up something like this. Moss, mushrooms, the root... it did the job, alright."
Adrac turned back, arms folded over his chest. "Where are these ingredients? I'll have them back here in a heartbeat." Adrac turned to Anthony, Davi and Soroza, smiling reluctantly. "I appreciate your assistance, my friends. I think I can handle things from here."
Laurel raises an eyebrow, and gestures outside. While they were standing in her shop, talking, the sun had set. The desperate townsfolk in the line haven't budged, though.
"I'd advise against wandering into the woods at night. That's a good way to never come out again."
Laurel thinks for a moment.
"Well, for the elderwood moss, there's gotta be an oldest tree in the vale. Damned if I know where it is, though."
"The rat's tail and and mushrooms are even longer shots, honestly. Way north, toward the mountains, people say there used to live a bunch of stoutfolk. They're not there anymore, but I'd bet their forges are. If you can find ironbloom anywhere around here, that would be your best bet."
"As for the rat's tail.... Gozreh knows where you can find that. You sure that isn't just some made up stuff, Adrac? Well... actually. There's a witch, Ulizmila. She lives deep in the woods, and might know where to find the stuff. She's a crafty, mean old thing that knows all sorts of strangeness. She might even have some. I don't know what she might want for it...but I doubt it'd come cheap. Years, and years back, my grandmother told me that she met Ulizmila, and bartered for this old book from her." She taps on the leather bound tome. "I don't know a soul that got nicer as they got older. Well, present company might be the exception." She nods, and smiles at Adrac.
"Laurel, when was the last time someone saw Ulizmila?" Davi's voice sounds strange. "Do you think I could take a look at that book once we're back? I've seen one like it before"
Laurel looks at Davi, confused. "It's an old book, passed down by my grandmother. She claims she got it from the witch, Ulizmila, in exchange for curing her of blindness, but for all I know the old woman was just trying to tell me a scary story as a child. She was mad as a bat, that's for sure, probably wrote the whole thing herself and then tried to pass it off as some ancient text."
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"Yes, well, I'd still like to look at it later. If you wouldn't mind. Once we're back. Yes."
Laurel shrugs. "Sure. Knock yourself out," she replies to Davi, exasperated. "Now if you're all good and done, I have five pounds of feverfew essence to extract. Before you ask, no I don't know where any of those places are. Do I look like someone who could last an hour out deep in the woods? No thank you. The lumberjacks know the woods better than anyone, though. Maybe ask your son, Adrac? He should be home by now, it is getting late."
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Herral starts to take his brother-once-removed, Tinkin, home but a similar conversation as Adrac's sends him off to Laurel's as well. He listens at the back to the end of the book and tries to piece together a few stray bits of knowledge.
But he knows little of the area, just his natural survival skills which have no great depth.
[b]"Me sis is down too. Not good. Maybe yon witch knows a bit about this 'ere other bits an' bobs? Could do with a sleep meself but p'haps up at dawn and we cun save the town. Tis becomin' a habit all this questin' loike a bunch of knoights."[\b]
Before sundown...
Tinkin is fairly easy to rouse after his fainting fit. He's likely just exhausted from pushing himself to work all day when he should've been in bed.
Herral finds his sister, Violar, in pretty reasonable shape as she is still on her feet and moving around despite her illness. Rather disconcertingly though, she has begun to cough up a little bit of blood on occasion, though she tries her best to hide it from Herral to keep him from fretting over her. Ever cheerful, Violar is incredibly happy to see her brother again, and gives Tinkin a long berating about keeping the stall open while sick ("Yoo doan want to git the whole durn town sick, do ye?" - thankfully, he hadn't sold a single one all day.)
Upon learning that Herral arrived in town with Laurel, the town alchemist, Tinkin urges him to go ask her if she has anything that could help them.
"Laurel, us little uns loike a bit of rats tail with a foine blue cheese. Tis loike a radish only wild and not so red. Maybe that witch loves a bit of rat's tail too.
The halfling steps forwards, shakes his head and murmurs softly so that only Adrac should hear. "My sis Violar...is coffin' up blood...sigh
Adrac frowns as Herral comes in on the tail end of things, kneeling down to speak with him on his level. "She is sick as well..? I see... I shall be speedy about recovering these items." He looks around at the others, before turning back to Herral.
"You do not have to go, my friend. I understand your concern, but... this is different than back in Arthell. I can feel the ki of this forest. It's dark... consuming. Unfriendly, to put it mildly. I cannot permit you all to accompany me on this. I cannot guarantee the safety of any of you... and I could not bring myself to look your loved ones in the eyes and tell them I failed to protect you. It's better if I go alone." Adrac's tone is deathly serious, evident that he's steeled himself to this task. But a flicker of uncertainty is in his tone.
Standing back up, Adrac turned to Laurel with a nod. "Thank you, Laurel. If Dalton is home, I wager he'll have the information I need. Please, do what you can to stave off this plague until I return."
"Hmmm, I've never heard of that, and it's a bit queer that there's a root that grows around here that I've never heard of. Still, it is good to learn new things."
Laurel chuckles at Adrac, turning back to her bubbling cauldron.
"Stubborn as a stoutfolk, you are. If you think Anthony is going to let you wander into the Woods alone then you clearly don't know him very well. And I wager the other three are just as obstinate as he is."
Anthony steps in front of Adrac to stop him, but then the Alchemist takes the words out from his mouth. He opens his mouth to say something, but he stops, then starts again. "Yes, sir, I was going to say I'm going anyway. Even if you weren't going to leave, I've sworn to protect and serve the people of this town, and they're sick and need my help. So whether you like it or not, I'm coming. " He pauses then says, "We'd need someone who knows her way around the woods, and others to watch our backs. Nobody knows what the Gods have in store for us in that forest. So let's get going. Together."
After that, he'll suggest going to Dalton's home to see what information they can gather from the Lumberjacks.
"You must be talking about Droskar's Crucible," Soroza announced in reference to Laurel's mention of a former Dwarven settlement. "I saw it on some maps before heading out from Oregent. It was a monastery, and had forges."
She turns to the elderly monk, "...and Adrac: if you think I'm the type to rest on my laurels in a tavern while children drop dead around me, well, then you haven't been paying very close attention. Besides, with me around you only might get lost in the woods."
I wonder if that's where that fellow I heard earlier has gotten to... I pray he's alive, if he's gone in search of that place... Adrac looked back to Anthony and placed his hands on his shoulders. "Anthony, I understand your desire to help. But... please, you must realize this. I could not bring myself to look your father and mother in the eye... and tell them I couldn't protect you."
Soroza's piping up draws Adrac's attention, along with a deep frown. Withdrawing his hands from Anthony's shoulders, he shook his head. "...Soroza, you know that I cannot ensure you all return safely, yes?" Even as he asked, he knew what the others would say. Ah, to be young and ambitious again. He recalled such confidence back in his younger days of venturing.
"...you will all do as I instruct. To the letter. Am I clear?" he asked, looking around for confirmation from the others. "If I tell you to remain quiet, you must do so. If I tell you to run, you will run. I will do all in my power to protect you, but I need you to listen when I speak. Understood?"
"Adrac, I am my responsibility, and no one else's. I respect your experience, and will heed your advice as much as makes sense to do so."
Soroza pats him on the shoulder gently, "I can't speak for the others, but if I get eaten by a dragon and you blame yourself, I will never forgive you."
"Yep. What Soroza said. I'm the only one responsible for what I do, not anyone else. I'm a stubborn thing. I'd just follow you if you tried to leave me behind anyways."
Davi sighs. "We need to get a better idea of where all these things are in the forest. The Lumber Consortium is our best bet. Thuldrin Kreed's the local leader, I'm going to go knock on his door. Anyone want to come with me?"
"Ha tis a good one. Who said you is leader, Adrac? No one. I go to save me sister, yur family and me trade. If'n you talk sense I be of a mind to listen otherwise it be just crickets chirpin' to me. Desna be the one who holds my ear. I'ul go with 'Ee, Davi. Now I reckon dawn tomorrow, quick jaunt, dab of ingredients then home for tea and cakes? Howsat?"
Go to Sleep vs Go Now:
Herral votes go to sleep, then go do things. Does anyone else agree? Or disagree?
Afterwards...
Ask Dalton vs Ask Thuldrin:
Anthony & Adrac have suggested to ask Dalton Rhaddyn where to find the items.
Davi & Herral have suggested to ask Thuldrin Kreed.
Which does Soroza want to do? Seems like the group will split up at that point unless some of you change your minds.
Adrac stood silent for a moment, before exhaling and shaking his head. "Haaaa... the overwhelming confidence of youth. I wish I could say I recalled those days..." Adrac folded his arms, eyes closed as he thought. "You may feel that responsibility lies with you alone... but never forget, you have those who wish to see you grow and progress. And you can't do that very well in the stomach of a dragon, can you?"
"I doubt it will be necessary to go speak with Mr. Kreed. If my son is half the adventurer I suspect he is, he'll have this forest mapped in his head. Better to ask someone who works the trees than the man who oversees them, yes?" Adrac said, turning to the door, but pausing before his exit, smiling back at the others. "...and no, it's not simply an excuse to see him again."
If nobody else stops or disagrees or holds things up, Adrac will head back to Dalton's house and see if he's home.
Adrac and Anthony (and anyone who wish to go with them) head for the Rhaddyn log cabin. Laurel bids them goodbye, then sighs at the enormous line in front of her door. She steels herself for a moment, then cracks open the door and calls out to the crowd, "Next!"
When they arrive at the cabin it is filled with the soft aroma of fresh-baked acorn bread. Dalton's eyes light up at his father's arrival, and embraces him in a lingering hug. He's stronger than Adrac remembers, as he has bulked up considerably from just a few years of chopping timber. "Dad. I'm so happy to see you. We have so much to talk about. But first, did Laurel have a cure?" Sarsia stands back, looking hopeful. Cassia still lays asleep in the bed.
"I'm sure that your son knows the forest better than Mr. Kreed. But it can't hurt to talk to him right? He's got to care that everyone in town is getting sick" Davi says with false confidence.
Davi, and anyone who goes with Davi, head for Thuldrin Kreed's manor. It stands out on a hill overlooking the town, so even without a local guide it is easy to get to. It is now late at night, (about 10:30 by Davi's watch) and the town is softly lit by oil lanterns on people's porches, or by candles flickering in their windows.
The front of the manor is guarded by two burly half-orcs, armed with a crossbow and swords. A closer inspection of the ramparts of Kreed's castle-home reveals additional guards patrolling from above, as well as heavy crossbows mounted on the walls.
One of the orcs peers down at Davi and sniffs back some mucus down his throat. "Hrmph. Got an appointment? Gotta see yer letter."
Adrac's smile nearly reaches his ears as he finally sees Dalton, looking him over before hugging him tightly. His old physique belies the strength it has underneath. "18 years of prayer and meditation to Irori with the sole hope that he'd keep you safe..." he said, standing back and smiling at him. "...it was worth every second." Looking back at Anthony, he stepped aside, placing a hand on Dalton's shoulder and smiling proudly. "Anthony? I'd like you to meet my son, Dalton Rhaddyn."
Stepping back, Adrac's expression levels out as he nods, caught somewhere between determined and solemn. "The bad news is, Laurel doesn't have a cure. Not for Cassia, not for anyone... yet. She does have one final recipe she'd like to try, but she's missing a couple ingredients." Adrac looked over to Dalton with determination. "However, she believes they can all be found in Darkmoon Vale. And I need your help to find them, Dalton."
"Laurel says she needs 3 key ingredients: elderwood moss, supposedly growing on the oldest tree in the wood. The next is something called rat's tail, and she believes an old witch named Ulizima has some in her hut. Finally, she needs some ironbloom mushrooms. She thinks there's a dwarven monastery near something called Droskar's Crag that might house a few. Please, Dalton... I need to know where those 3 locations are. Even a rough idea will direct me to them. If we get those ingredients, Cassia and the rest of the town are as good as saved."
Adrac's son nods at Anthony, and smiles. "Oh. Dad, we've met. We haven't spoken much though, that's true."
Dalton can't hide his disappointment that he didn't come back with a cure already, but his happiness at seeing his father again quickly overshadows that, as well as the news that hope has not yet died out.
"Alright...one second, let me get my map and some ink." He rummages around in a small drawer in the family bedroom, and returns to the kitchen table with a map of the Darkmoon Vale.
"You'll need to go around the River Foam's tributary unless you have a boat. The water is too rough to swim, and so cold it'll chill you to the bone anyway. Once you get around the river, you need to keep moving west. First you'll come across the Forest Elder....that's the name we loggers call the oldest darkwood tree in the forest. It's real massive, and considered sacred by the druids, so we're forbidden to touch it. About a four hour walk west of that you'll find Ulizmila's Hut. I've never been there myself, but every lumberjack knows where it is so that we can avoid it. From what I understand she hasn't shown her face in years. Then about five hours northwest of her hut is Droskar's Crucible. It's a dwarven monastery along Droskar's Crag. Adventuring types like to try their luck there, looking for ancient dwarven treasure. Seems a lost cause: anything left there would have been looted ages ago. All in all it'd be a four day round trip, assuming you don't get lost." He marks the places on the map as he speaks, then rolls the parchment up and hands it to Adrac. He looks somber.
"You know, the last time we spoke it was at a funeral. I hope the fates haven't cursed us so that the next time will be at a funeral as well."
"Dalton!" Sarsia gasps. "How could you say that? She'll live. She has to."
Dalton turns his head, ashamed.
Sarsia smiles at Adrac, and his friends. "If you folks need a warm place to sleep tonight, we'd be happy to let you sleep in our bed," she offers graciously. "We can roll out some warm furs and sleep by our child's side. If you need something to eat, we have a warm loaf of acorn bread on the table, with some soft cheese. It isn't much, but it is what we have."
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Davi offers the orc her biggest, sweetest grin. ”Well hi there. I’m Davilessa Accerlas, of Accerlas trading? You've heard of us I’m sure. I’m here on a bit of unofficial business, I wasn't expecting to visit Mr. Kreed on this trip, well at least not in a business sense you know, but the whole town is sick!” She looks down and shakes her head in sympathy.
”Obviously they haven’t heard of this in Augustana or I’d have arrived with medicine ready. The Consortium certainly cares about its workers. After all, sick people can’t work and well, if Falcon’s Hollow can’t make its quota…” she trails off. After waiting a few seconds in a dramatic pause she continues.
”Well, best not to think about what would happen to the town, Mr. Kreed, you, so on so forth. Luckily for us all I have a solution, the local alchemist can make a cure and all she needs are a couple silly plants from the forest. I just need to iron out a few little details with Mr. Kreed here and we can get this whole mess solved.”
Davi starts to walk forward. When the orc doesn't move she frowns, pouts and sticks a hand on her hip. ”Surely you’re not going to let a little thing like a letter get between my saving both the town and Mr. Kreeds reputation! You’re far too smart for that.”
Adrac frowned between Dalton and Sarsia, before shaking his head as he takes the map. "I will not permit that. I have come too far to miss out on spending time with you two and my granddaughter." His eyes drift towards Cassia sadly, before looking back. "And remember who you're speaking to, son. I may not be as spry as I once was, but I am still the Dragon's Fist. And, like it or not, I have James' boy along to help. If he's even half the man I used to travel with, this will be a simple walk in the forest."
If only I could be so certain of that. Adrac thought, fighting the urge to grimace. He could feel the energy of the Vale. It was... crushing. Encroaching. It demanded to be fed. He'd felt it even before arriving, but he never thought he would have to go traipsing into it.
"I will be fine, you two are in evident need of proper sleep."
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Herral touches Davi for luck as she smiles again at the Orc.
I be 'er frien' wishin' to help too."
Soroza offers Sarisa a sincere smile. "Lodgings for the night are a generous offer, but if you could direct me to an inn or public flophouse I will be just fine."
She then addresses Adrac: "A full night's sleep, and then I'll meet you here in the morning?"
The half-orc goons give each other a look.
"Hrrrrrmph."
"...I guess."
"Gotta talk to Pay Day first. He's da overboss."
"Mmmmhrrrmm."
"You wait here with Gusk." The other half-orc skulks off, leaving just the one. He returns a few minutes later with a thick, muscular, human man. He's an ugly thug, with a bull neck, a huge round face, and a mashed-in nose. He has a mouth full of chewing tobacco. He takes one look at Davi and snorts, hocking up a ball of tobacco-flecked spit and phlegm onto her boot. He cracks his knuckles audibly.
"Yea. I'm Boss Payden, Kreed's right-hand man. So what do you want with Thuldrin Kreed, little girl?" He smirks and gives her a long, lingering look up and down her body. "Y'know, if yer lookin' for work, ol' Bloodeyes always lookin' fer girls. I know I'd tip ya real good, if ya know what I mean." The half-orcs chuckle.