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.
several dozen people
in Falcon’s Hollow have
contracted a fungal
disease called blackscour
taint. 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.
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 Mapping the Vale
to be precipitously near tears—stretches from
the open door.
Mordan is 22 years old, 5' 11" and 185 lbs. He has brown Hair, green eyes and fair skin. At his heel is what can best be described as a 'large brown dog'. The dogs otherwise mundane appearance is belied by the glowing arcane symbol on his forehead and disconcertingly intelligent, faintly glowing, green eyes. Further adding to the canines confusing appearance, he's followed by a trail of smoke from his favorite pipe as he walks.
"Morning all"
Dog: "Tell them good morning from me as well."
Mordan: "I'm not going to say that. It will just confuse them."
Dog: "Because they would find a dog smoking a pipe to be commonplace?"
Mordan: "You might have a point."
"Um, Dog says good morning as well."
Right then as father taught me, be diplomatic! Leave the intelligence and just be nice.
" Good morning, i hardly think so in a disease ridden town where people are dying, but then i suppose you could mean that the day is good because you aren't dead yet. Sorry Maedhros Fingolson is the name, student of the arcane and seeker of knowledge and this is Turgon my swoop-lizard."
Damn it, i can't just be friendly without getting too literal!
"Good day as in I hope you have a good day and don't get sick!" Mordan replies with a smile
Dog: "What's he doing to me!
Mordan: "He's petting you. He trying to be nice. Just wag your tail"
Dog: "If you say so..." *wags tail*
A bald dwarf with a short beard approaches. He is wearing a fine chain shirt and among many hammers and daggers also has a fine Waraxe hanging on his belt. Incongruously he seems to be studying a large tome of some kind...
" Korvak, Stythis, Nethilim...Huh? what? Is that dog....s-smoking a pipe?"
Stuttering as he notices the glowing eyes and arcane symbol, he finishes his question.
" Uh. Hello. Are you all here to help with the plague? T-That's what I'm here for...Hmmp. I am an Arcane Fighter. A good one. So I came to offer my services..."
He seems to find himself and standing straight, ignores the strangeness around him...
Maedhros is small and thin for an elf, the scars of an old illness barely covered by the arcane symbols tattooed across his face. He is dressed in leather travelling gear with a black longbow in one hand and a longsword at his hip. A small butterfly pin can be seen in his collar.
Brushing quickly past the others to stand in front of Arqelite, Maedhros dives straight into 'shop talk'
"A fellow arcanist, and not a full blown stay in the library type. Pleased to meet you. Have you learnt the spell 'Expeditious retreat' yet? I have a scroll, but i haven't quite mastered it yet. If so I could perhaps trade something from my spellbook for some help with it."
" Heh. Definitely not a library type.."
Chuckles Arqelite...
" Yes I know the spell, tho not the teachin' type so not sure an how much help I'd be..."
"Good, good. Well maybe i can learn from watching you cast it. Anyway i suppose we should get on with trying to help. Where do we start?"
The line shortens as you pass the time. Soon you are in the shop
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?”
" Fah! I need some nose plugs." Replies Arqelite as he waves his hand before his nose..
" But no. I actually came to offer my services in helping. Hopefully somewhere , not, in here."
He finishes with a beleaguered smile.
Maedhros appears to be enthralled by all the stuff for sale.
"Hmm yes, oh that is sulphur and that looks like .... .. sorry, getting distracted. I believe we are ready to help you. "
Mordan looks around the shop doubtfully, "I don't know much about herbs and sulfer and stuff but if there's anything we can do..."
Help? With running this business or with the blackscour? One is better than the other. Hurry up please. I can take questions if you want to help with the blackscour taint, but make them quick.
"With the blackscour. I'm not cut out to be a shop boy."
" What's blackscour? And how can we help?"
Just a fungus that’s
not good for anything. Hard, bitter, and
sharp, it likes the water and gets you sick if
you drink it down. Never heard of it growing
around these parts, though, until now
You are going to have to find the ingredients for a cure If you are going to be of any help.
"What ingredients do you need?"
" Sounds ok. And how do we identify them as the correct ones?"
My grandmother’s
book has a brew in it that says its
good for this kind of thing. A weird concoction
that sounds more like hoojoo than real
medicine.
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.
"Well we can take a look. Do you have any more information on how we're to recognize them? Especially the rat's tail thing. From the description it could be almost anything and I doubt a carrot or parsnip will do for this hoojoo."
" I have heard mention of the ironblooms, but never have I seen one, nor do I know what they look like..."
Arqelite shrugs at the mention of asking the dwarves...
"But then I'm not your typical dwarf..."
There aren't many dwarves around. I do know were the ingredients should be
"Well that should make it easy then. Where do we 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.
" My Gran got nicer as she got older....Easier to run from too...."
Grumbles Arqelite under his breath...
" OK. Lets go get these things...."Looking around at the others..
" Who's goin'"
"We're in," waving to include dog.
"I am happy to assist"
You have no time folk. Head out now.
You know where the hut and the monastery are
You know where the oldest tree is
"I don't know the area. Do you know anyone we can ask?"
"Isn't this a lumber town? The 'jacks might know where some o' these places are..."
Arqelite will ask around for directions...
"I have looked at many maps, prior to beginning my travels and I have heard many tales. I know the way to these places. Follow me. "
"Awesome"
" Where should we head first? I'm thinking the tree first. "
Decide amongst yourselves and hurry please
"Tree is fine. Lead on."
"Aye! He seems to have the right of it. Lead on Master Wizard."
Arqelite adjusts his gear and follows Maedhros outside.
"Right if everyone is set, then lets go. This way."
You are on your first day of travel. You are only a mile away from the lumber camp. You run into three drunk men
Who are you?
"We are traveĺlers who have come here to try and help with the plague. We go now to find one of the ingredients for a cure. Can we help you?"
" I'm Arqelite the Magus. Who're you?"
Gripping his axe handle, he stands straight and looks sternly and the drunkards.
Dog looks askance at the drunks, "Is there going to be trouble?
Mordan, "I don't know, stay loose."
Dog, "Loose? What do you mean by loose?"
Mordan, "Ready. It means stay ready."
Dog, "Hmm... OK, next time just say that. It'll save time"
Mordan, "..."
Hello. *hic* We work at the lumber yard.