Casdin movely down the stairs, yawning and stretching as he did. "Good morning Innkeep. Your breakfast smells delicious." He will then proceed to eat.
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Galador all but bounces down the steps, a boyish grin firmly planted on his face. A good dinner and and good night's sleep seem to have done wonders for his mood.
He tucks into the breakfast heartily, musing, "Friend Urwin, my head reels from your potent wine, and, whilst I remember that we are to undertake an errand for you this day, I do not, quite, recall the numeration you have generously promised.
Have you offered coin, or do you merely have good credit for us to languish in, which would be fine of course! And something about contacts? Something about how you know people who know people who have more work that needs doing?"
At this point he stops talking and returns to eating, trying to get a handle on his train of thought.
"Why Galador, you seem positively chipper today!" Sheva grins.
"Shall we expect the usual angry mob of husbands and fathers running us out of town?" she laughs with a knowing wink.
She then takes a more serious tone and addresses the entire group.
"Before we go on this errand, something's been weighing heavily on my conscience these last couple days. And you're going to think I'm completely insane for suggesting this, but ..." she trails off.
"Once we retrieve this wine shipment ... I think we should go back to the windmill and finish the job we started and destroy those hags."
Victor heads downstairs feeling refreshed but troubled by the strange circumstances he finds himself in.
Victor grins at Sheva, "Perhaps this time we can simply burn the building as I suggested?"
"If we're going to do it, we should do it correctly. Does anyone have any specific knowledge of Hags? Let's see about getting a meeting room or moving into someone's room to have a discussion about our plans. I will be honest with you: one of the reasons I used to hate adventurers so much when I was with the guard was that the majority of them do not bother to plan, but just go rushing in "because they can". That almost always gets someone killed."
Got me buggered on hags on the legend side - I spent all my time learning stories about Nymphs and such.
If we are going to go back I'd feel more confident with a mob at my back - pitchforks and burning torches
Between chewing and chewing of his cereal, Vasilios mutters -Well, they seemed a bit resistant to my fire, that's all I can add. And we spent all our resources and weren't able to drop even one. I say we wait until we hone our skills a bit.
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At Sheva's first line, Galador's impish smile blossoms and his face splits in a white-toothed grin, while his hand goes to his chest, feigning indignance. "Why, Sheva! I'm wounded that you would think of me so! Did you yourself not declare me a paragon a virtue, as unblemished as the wind-driven snow and chaste as the most tight-arsed of paladins?" he finishes, giving her a wink that can only be called 'salacious.'
But at her suggestion of returning to the hags, the smile runs away from his face and a cloud of anxiety fogs his features. He stares heavily at the wine-stained wood of the table and blinks many times, either searching for a thought, or trying to chase one away.
He grabs on to Vasilios' statement like a drowning man grabbing a broken plank. "Mmm. Aye. Sheva I.... 'Tis not that I hold to cowardice, but...but even with the insight we hath gained with our last fight, I...I would not now clash against them. As I recall, as Vasilios says, we loosed the whole of our power at them, and not a -one- did fall. So, to now speak of slaying them all....
Yes, in time, we might return, but, but for the now...." His eyes lift stare directly at her. "If you ask it of me, I will march to the mouth of Hell."
His lips curl and the grin returns. "But do not expect letters speaking highly of the room service!"
Sheva ponders things for a moment and meets Galador's gaze with equal seriousness.
"Someday soon we'll march into a mouth of Hell, dear Galador, but not this one."
"Perhaps..." she continues, thinking out loud, "... a mob is all we need."
"No doubt the hags have been operating discretely for some time, the surrounding world oblivious to their evil deeds. But if we spread the word, perhaps we can raise an angry mob to charge their windmill while we stay out of it."
"Back when I lived at the convent, I spent time studying fiendish and infernal creatures in hopes of gaining insight on my own affliction. I've come across legends and tales of night hags like the ones at the mill."
"These hags are powerful, but they aren't omnipotent. Many of their spells have limited use per day. A large mob of angry villagers might just overwhelm them quickly."
"So rather than charge at them head on, it might be best that we simply raise an army to do it for us."
She stops and grins. "So when do we go fetch that wine? I'm feeling a bit thirsty."
Between Casdin and Sheva, you correct each other on misinformation and start to pin down at least a few facts that you're aware of. Hags are known to kidnap children and turn them into pastries with miraculous effects, but at the cost of...you know...killing children. You also come to realize that taking on three hags at once may be too much currently, as their skin is resistant to non-magical weaponry other than silver, and even fire and cold damage aren't as effective. Its growing grimmer and grimmer, but then Casdin recalls one particular hopeful note that, if true, could turn the tide completely. There is an object that some covens possess called the Hag's Eye. Its powers escape your memory, but you do know that if that coven possesses one, destroying it would deal considerate damage to them, possibly more even.
The innkeeper Urwin watches the conversation move back and forth.
You have a feeling that even though you talk of hags and the windmill, he isn't surprised to hear this information.
"I've got some old weapons and armor that I have no use for, tending this inn. If you secure the wine supply, then its yours. If you need some help, Szoldar and Yvgeni over in the corner are usually willing to work for coin."
He points over by the fire where two burly men wearing wolf pelts are eating. They have haunted looks in their eyes.
"Thank you Urwin." Turning to the group, Casdin will say "We should go deal with the wine first, then revisit the plan to attack the Hags."
Victor frowns, "Raise an army? Attack a trio that we barely escaped from and all for no coin? This seems like madness and against our best interests. Should we not be focused on returning home, or to our respective homes? I will certainly acquire wine as I have agreed to do that but to attack these creatures.... I'll have to think on that".
Sense Motive - Perception
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Galador's eyes slide over to the innkeep. He's lost enough card games to know when the other fellow is holding an ace.
Still, now's not the time. There's a job and there's pay, and the thing for later can wait and be a thing for later.
"Then we are in accord!" Galador pronounces as he drinks the last of his breakfast and stands up. "Let's see about the vanished vin and then we can talk of charging windmills and dragons and vampires!
But of help? No. I'm sure those gentlemen are fine fellows, but if I can't stumble across a barrel of wine on my own, then tie me up and call me brother!
Shall we?"
Sheva doesn't notice anything about Urwin, but takes note of Galador's reaction and whispers to him.
"I know that look. What's wrong?"
But of help? No. I'm sure those gentlemen are fine fellows, but if I can't stumble across a barrel of wine on my own, then tie me up and call me brother!Shall we?"[/b]
Lets get going - there is the reward of additonal arms and armour on the table as well as saving wine... a subject near and dear to me.
The party makes their way to the winery at the directions of the innkeeper.
After a half mile, the road becomes a muddy trail that meanders through the woods, descending gradually until the trees part, revealing a mist-shrouded meadow.
The trail splits.
One branch heads west into the valley, and the other south into dark woods. A wooden signpost at the intersection points west and reads "Vineyard".
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A light drizzle begins to fall as you travel westwards. Unpainted fences blindly follow the trail, which skirts north of a sprawling vineyard before bending south towards a stately building. The fog takes on ghostly forms as it swirls between the neatly tended rows of grapevines. Here and there, you see rope-handled half-barrels used for hauling grapes. North of the trail is a large stand of trees. A man wearing a dark cloak and cowl stands at the edge of the trees, beckoning you.
Victor groans, "Must every person not standing within a building in this accursed land appear a sinister villain?" Victor starts towards him warily.
-Come on, Victor- says Vasilios tryiong to cheer up the party, -just because he wears dark cvlothes doesn't mean he's bad. You wear a dark shirt, after all...
And with that he happily whistles a tune while directing himself to the trees.
Casdin will make his way towards to figure, hand idly stroking his holy symbol.
Sheva, not being able to see clearly if the man is a potential threat, summons her pact blade to her hand and slowly walks toward the figure.
"Hi there." she calls out.
"You wouldn't by chance be turning children into pies or be one of the undead trying to lure us into a trap, would you?" she asks as she readies the blade into striking position. "It would be really if you weren't."
"We're just here to inquire about some wine. But we've heard some stories on our journey."
Rascal just does his best to puff himself up and look mean holding his weapon.
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Walked merrily along the dark, muddy, cold, drizzle-soaked trail, determined that the obligatorily dreary land wouldn't get him down.
At least, not until after lunch.
As yet another dark, forbidding figure sprouts up along the trail, Galador is nonplussed. "BlaHa! Indeed, Victor! And if he is another world-dominating figure up to some skullduggery, what of it? 'Twould hardly be the most surprising thing to have happened to us this week, eh? Indeed, after all we've been through, it might not break the top ten!"
Galador hangs back, fully willing to let Sheva use her multiple obvious charms on the fellow...but he loudly guffaws as she initiates with so brusque an opening. "Ha! Sheva, can you at least bid the man a good morning before threatening him with a death most uncomfortable?"
The smile remains fixed to Galador's face even as his hand rests on his sword. Whether they're invited to combat or tea are equally likely, and he'll leave it to others with more honeyed tongues to decide which.
"Hail." the cloaked man says simply. Then at once, eight other cloaked men and women emerge from the stand of trees. Some appear to be children, one is barely tall enough to reach your knees. They each call out their own hails, and don't seem to be here for a fight.
"I am neither witch nor bandit. It is dangerous up ahead. I am Davian Maritkov, the owner of this winery and vineyard. Evil druids and blights have attacked the winery and forced my family to take refuge in the woods. I would turn back if I were you."
He is an old man, tired looking as well. His words speak with a rigidty from years of authority and seriousness. The others behind him also have solemn expressions, but watch you closely, guardedly.
"Did the druids say why they were attacking your winery?"
"I said 'hi' to him, Galador." Sheva smirks.
Sheva then listens to Davian Martikov's response.
"Huh! Evil druids? I thought druids were just indifferent to anyone that wasn't a tree."
"So we're here to see what happened to the last wine shipment, and I guess, evil druids happened. Fortunately we're a group of brave and somewhat foolhardy adventurers, so rather than turning back, I'll ask a simple question of you, good sir."
Sheva sighs with a resigned smile, feeling she really should know better by now.
"What can we do to help?"
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Galador's sword whispered passively out of its sheath as the woods come alive with people. His business isn't discerning the intent of the strangers' hearts.
Protecting them from it was.
As they do not rush them in a crazed charge for blood and flesh, he continues to stand, letting the others go about the motions of the talky.
"Ha! So you did, Sheva! My greatest apologies for questioning thy charming whiles!
And what of this blight, good winemaster? Is this just of the plant-plaguing-variety, or shall our nibbly bits begin falling off as soon as we step foot into thy vinery?
That might be important to some, so one might guess!"
"I would imagine that if body parts were going to fall off, they would be missing them now."
"You fine folks have all your, uh, nibbly bits, right?"
"Seriously, Galador, how do you come up with these things?"
"An overactive imagination and a derth of reading good books would be my guess." says Casdin with a smile and a shrug.
Bah, books!, Raz says with mock scorn.
Not having much else to offer to the inquiries of the others he awaits the Vintineers response.
"Nibbly bits implies teeth, I shudder to think of teeth anywhere... Never mind!
Indeed, as my allies have stated, we are here to aid you in bringing this harvest of grapes to fruition and tasting the fine wine you and your family brew... er wine is brewed right?" Victor looks to anyone really for validation here.
Not waiting for an answer he presses forward with his original thought. "We can confront and defeat these Druids. So long as they are not vampire druids, or hag druids, or werewolf druids. Hmmm, come to think of it, perhaps we do need an army".
-Yeah, it seems everyone here is or is related to some kind of horror creature.
Vasilios says that in normal voice, as if talking to himself but to specifically let the man hear it and see his response.
-Anyway, as my comrades said, we're here to help.- Then his mind adds -or perish in the attempt.- He goes on. -What can you tell us of these druids?
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"Hmmm, no, I think if it was brewed then it'd also be synonymous with the term. But when we say 'brew' we mean 'beer'. As in 'I'm getting another beer, does anyone else want a brew?'
So maybe wine is boiled? Or is it some other word, something starting with 'R'? Ransacked? No, wait, that's a word for pillage. You don't pillage wine! Okay, well, ya, you do, I mean, if pillaging is what you're doing, and there's wine to be pillaged, then you'd pillage it. Razed? Do you raze wine? Wait, no, that's another word for pillage. I don't know what I'm stuck on pillage today."
Galador grounds his sword, thinking and orating. "Is wine boiled? Wait, did I already say that? Hey, maybe we can ask the druids! They're sure to know! I mean, if you're stuck in the forest doing nothing but hugging trees all day you've got to have enough time to boil up some wine before you go bat-crackers bonkers, know what I'm sayin'?"
He might go on for awhile.
"Most of the Druids I have met consider Blighters to be an abomination."
The old man, introduced as Davian Martikov, gives you all an odd look, almost as if he's perplexed by your strange mannerisms.
"The druid's are tied to the evil of this land. I belive they aim to tear it down and desecrate the earth it stands on."
"Momma, what's a nibbly bit?" the youngest child asks. She's hurridly shushed by a woman standing beside her, most likely her mother.
Davian continues.
"There is a great number of blights here, summoned by one of the druids carrying a staff of sorts. Destroying it would most liikely wipe all the blights off the earth, but I know not where the wielder is other than inside my winery."
"By the Gods this is a Godsforsaken place. Even the Druids are evil!
Inside the winery eh? Very well, come Galador, let's pillage these Druids! Then we can ask the last one breathing how they make wine even if we need to beat him with that summoning staff to get him to tell us!"
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As the group approaches, "Last time I thought we should have burned down the hags' house. This time it seems burning down the winery would be a hardship for these folk so as much as I would like to take that approach again, it seems we need to do this the hard way. Again.
Sheva, have you spying magic? If not, can one of you get close real quiet like to scout where our foes may be within the building?"
"Yeah, burning down their winery doesn't really solve their problem so much as just replace it with a new problem."
"Victor, I don't really have any spying magic so much as distraction and hiding. I can create simple illusions or a cloud of darkness which even Elven vision cannot penetrate. My ability to turn invisible was replaced by more powerful spells when I last, uh, met, with my patron."
"Raz, you and Vasilios still can cast the invisibility spell though, can't you?"
-I can, yes, of course. And I can cast it on two people at the same time, if that helps a plan.
"I don't as much plan as I throw ideas against the wall to see what sticks. I would think though that we should know more about them before we attack 'em..."
"Is anyone here trained as a scout?"
-I think when it comes to stealth it's my time. What do you want me to do, exactly?
"If we could get a count of the number of hostiles, whether or not they have any hostages, and what they're armed with, that would help us make an effective plan."
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[oocI think we would be staying near where we were talking to the Vintner and his family.[/ooc]
I can try to support a stealthy approach. I have a little skill at it.
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Galador guffaws as kids say the darndest things. "Ha! Aye, child, that's for later! But don't worry about the accuracy of the answer. Since you're here now, it's a good chance that momma knows." He shoots the lady a playful wink.
Turning back to the group Galador says, "Ugh. My blade grows rusty in its scabbard! Alright, Vasilios, go there, sneak around, tell us how many bad druids we need to bend over a barrel. And if there are any hostages, let us know. 'Course, these don't seem the type to play that game, so I'd not feel bad if you don't see any.
An' if you get into the trouble, just give us the secret signal, and we'll come a-runnin.
You, -do- know what the secret signal is, don't you?
Alright, it's...AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Galador screams while waving his hands in the air. "AAAAH!! The druids have found me and I need some help real fast Galador! HAHAHAHAHahahahahaha," he says as he double over in laughter.
I think I can manage that signal... I may even improvise some on it. Come on then Vasilios - lets get to it.
-Alright, then.