"Something like that." says Darwin and then he chuckles sheepishly.
Free information? If only everyone was that kind.
Here, I'll pay for it.
James hands the necessary payment.
Abu waits outside, he doesn't need chickens.
Now would be a good time to declare you're getting rid of Zomtih's coin purse, if you haven't already.
"Anything else dears?"
She accepts payment from Jamenas.
"Thank you for your time, mam," Dessarin says with a curt nod small bow, all with a hand over his stomach. He goes outside with Abu thinking to himself.... Well that was a waste of time....
"Goodbye dearies!" She calls enthusiastically as you all begin to leave. "Come back soon."
It hasn't even been an hour since you rose and you've got a jar a chicken livers to show for it. You can start to see the sleepy town really getting into the swing of things. Young boys sword fighting with sticks they've found on the ground only to have them snapped in half by a young girl, the same age, who actually looks like she knows how to handle a weapon.
The friendlier side of Red Larch greets you with a wave, some off to attend flocks while others are taking the time for a morning prayer at the small temple in town.
Abu is sitting on the ground, well crouched. He gets up as he sees the door swing open and his new partners, be it for better or worse, come out, alive. "Well, how did it go?" he asks Dessarin.
"She sells chicken, not information unfortunately..." Dessarin says in an aged way, he seems older and more feeble. His slight wrinkles look a little more deep. "Let us proceed to the graves."
"Better to rule things out now I suppose, and I got a bit of information as well. Off to the grave."
The grave it is, then.
After asking for a few directions, the group decides to follow Cairn Road around the Sumber Hills.
It takes almost half the day before you reach the section of the road that the shepherd told you the graves were around, by the knotted tree the entwined around itself. In the distance near the supposed gravesite you see the FeatherGale Spire, home to the elite FeatherGale society, a hippogriff flying club. From the tone of most Red Larchers, they find these supposed "knights" a bit snooty. You also know that if you continue down the trail, you'll eventually find the Bargewright Inn, Dessarin Valley's most well-known starting point to people entering the Northlands.
You don't seem to find any trouble as you break from the road and make your way closer ot the Sumber Hills. Eventually, you do indeed find something of note.
On a barren hilltop a few miles from Red Larch, you find four freshly dug shallow graves. The earth scraped out for the holes is piled nearby, although hastily gathered stones cover the graves. The faint smell of death hangs in the air, and several vultures circle overhead.
"I'm sorry for disturbing your rest, but I need to know what happened here." Krogar apologies to the graves before removing the stones and uncovering the bodies.
Abu will look around the grave yard. "These people have all passed from this life. Hope they have found rest." he walks around, touching some graves, especially those of young women.
Dessarin used to death and its smell. Goes up to the graves to perceive more about them. Looking for scratches, what he would think shovel marks look like, any foul play, left over ritual materials, scraps of clothing and etc. He takes his time investigating each of the four graves for as long as he can. He also turns to look at his party waiting for them to join him.
"Dark deeds are often done with dirty hands." He says looking down at his own smeared palms. Feeling like a ravenous bird his continues to pick at the graves anyway. He is ready to find some kind of answer even if it is by means some may find distasteful.
Jamenas helps Krogar remove the stones. Sorry... forgive me.
Those working to uncover the graves find exactly what you would expect when digging up a graves.
Several bodies.
You find a male dwarf in artisan robes, his blacksmith's apron as dirty as it probably was when he was beating iron ingots at his home forge several months ago. His hands will never create again. You find a female human warrior, a portion of one leg gone and an obvious death wound at her neck. She wears a black surcoat with a red axe. There is also a male human warrior, his body atrophied from decomposition, but you can still tell how powerful he must have been. It's odd, but you also notice that he has some kind of strange stony-armor. Laid beside him is a one last male human in a dirtied white robe, clad with feathers on his shoulder.
It's evident that they were killed by arrow wounds, crushing blows, among other flesh wounds.
Abu notices as he looks at the area surrounding the graves, a confused collection of tracks, a few broken arrows, a discarded javelin, and a tattered gray cloak.
You all have a good view of the surrounding hills from this vantage point. Several miles to the west you can make out the tiny outline of Red Larch, and the thin dark line marking the Long Road. Several miles to the north, you see a slender old tower circled by large birds. Nothing else is around here.
Krogar respectfully reburies them, while speaking prayers to Moradin to grant them rest.
It looks like they were killed by bandits. Though I don't know if bandits would bury the bodies..." Krogar looks around for any tracks of other humanoids that were not his party.
The delegation could have fought off the bandits. That explains the graves.
Abu will pick up one of the broken arrows, "Hey guys. I think something went down here."
"At any rate, I'd suggest that we check the tower after reburying them. It seems to be a good spot for an ambush."
Weary from digging and frustration, Dessarin concedes to the plan. "Very well, can anyone see what kind of birds those are? Vultures perhaps, feasting upon more dead?"
With the group in agreement, Dessarin trails somewhere among the middle of the pack as they proceed.
The group seems contemplative, trying to judge the scene of whatever happened here.
It occurs to you that their aren't nearly enough bodies for the entire delegation, and that enemy and foe are buried together.
You can tell the man with the feather's is probably an air cultist, while the one with the rocky plating is probably an earth cultitst.
While bandits wouldn't care for the deceased of freshly robbed corpses, and the delegation may have not had enough time to bury their dead let alone the enemy's, You do know Earth Cultists believe that everyone should return to the earth eventually, which may be a reason for the graves.
"These bodies were buried by a third party, probably a group of Earth Cultists if I remember the rituals right. Also...there's only 4 bodies. Doesn't account for the whole delegation. That delegation is still out there, somewhere."
Abu nods his head when the others talk about the next direction. "Yeah, the tower might be the place with the most information."
Feathergale Spire rises from a pillar of rock high into the air, the tallest point for miles. Built from white limestone and embellished in marble, the spire resembles a gleaming sword the pierces the sky.
The gatehouse faces the opposite cliff, its drawbridge the only apparent point of entry. Tall, wide windows encompass the bottom level of the tower, absent only upon the gatehouse side.
A circle of open stalls rings the tower's foundation where it meets the rock. Above each stall, the sculpture of a hippogriff in flight leaps from the tower's base.
Beneath Feathergale Spire to the east, a wide gusty canyon yawns through the hills.
It would be easy enough to approach the front doors, but scaling the stone pillar on which the tower rests is also an option. You find yourselves downhill to the spire, needing to walk up a winding road to approach it.
"I may be able to sneak in and safely lower the drawbridge for you all. I am wary of those hippogriff statues however. I feel that with the excellence of this beautiful tower they may be more than decoration," He says with hesitance in his voice.
"Come on. Statutes are just things made out of stone."Krogar scoffs. "If you're worried, I'll take point," as he marches towards the front door.
A gap of twenty feet separates the ledge where the path ends from the closed drawbridge on Feathergale Spire. The space between the cliff's edge and the gatehouse drops several hundred feet to the bottom of the canyon. Near the ledge, a brass bell hangs from a wooden post.
A hippogriff flying society? Why would you need one of those? Jamenas points to the bell. Shall I ring it?
"Might as well. We'll want to talk to the people that are here either way."
Jamenas rings the bell and waits patiently
"So much for sneaking in"
Before any of the party can really protest, Jamenas walks up and rings the bell.
A moments passes...
You see a window open at what would probably be the middle of the tower. A young woman appears and leans out. Though at a distance, you can tell she's dressed in scale armor. The glare it gives off the sun leads you to believe its been polished heavily and hasn't seen much actual use.
"Greetings!" she calls out, a smile on her face. "What brings you to our fair tower? We do give out rides at times, but normally its for young-ins."
She chuckles as she waits for your reply.
"Did you see the delegation that was passing along the way to the sumber hills? We found a couple of fresh graves on the way and wondered if the delegation may have asked for your help after the attack."
"No! Can't say I've seen anything like that lately!" she calls back.
"I haven't seen you stranger's before! But all are welcome to the Feathergale Society's humble tower!"
You see her disappear from the window. A minute later ,the drawbridge lowers across the gap and grants you easy entry to the tower.
Abu nods his head. "Thank you my lady." he walks on in.
In Darwin will go as well.
"Well that was easier than expected, good thinking with the bell," Dessarin says cheerful and seemingly ignorant of his earlier burst of annoyance.
What else would we do? Sneak in through the hippogriff's food supply? Jamenas smiles and strides through the entryway
The young woman greets your group as you stride across the bridge and enter the tower. The entrance is a thirty-foot-long hall of white stone. At the opposite end of the hall are two twelve-foot-tall doors like those of the entry gate.
An eagle carved from a massive timber hangs from the far side of the ceiling, suspended on strong chains. Slender wings of steel close to its sides. Its head is also fashioned of steel.
"You have excellent timing my friends!" the young woman, who introduces herself as Savra, exclaims. "You arrive during the celebration of our society's tenth year anniversery. Surely you'll do me the honor of attending our feast as well?"
She smiles broadly, the wrinkles of mid-age tug at the corners of her mouth.
"Sure. Who are your guesta invited to the feast, amd do you have anywhere I can freshen up?" Krogar feels distinctively uncomfortable going for avfeast after spending a morning digging graves.
"In due time, but please, let me show you the majesty of our tower and introduce you to our commander. Come!"
Savra sets off through the inner doors and begins to climb the spiral staircase.
She climbs quickly, her legs taut with muscle from hard exercise. On the second floor you see through open doors a large table draped in a cloth, tableware and utensils already set. Savra continues and on the third floor you see a bunch of closed rooms of what would probably be personal quarters. Finally you reach the pinnacle of the tower
At the apex of the tower, the stairs terminate at a round stone gazebo that continues upward in a needle-like minaret. Beyond this enclosure, a small lawn grows upon the top of the tower. Four paths paved with white stones point the directions of the compass, each path ending in a pointed stone crenellation. At the pinnacle's edge is a spyglass on a tripod, pointed downward. From this vantage point, the Feathergale Knights possess a supreme view of all that transpires in the nearby canyon and the Sumber Hills beyond.
The commander of the Feathergale Knights is a well-built male human in his early fifties. Embossed feather patterns ornament the plates of his armor, and his kingly cloak boasts a feathered mantle. He smooths his white-blond hair into place, the bows low before you as if he were only a lowly courtier.
"Welcome to Feathergale Spire, retreat of the Feathergale Society. I am Thurl Merosska, the lord commander."
"Thanks for the invite. Tell me about your society."
"Thanks for the invitation. The view here is really stupendous. How have things been around here recently?"
To Darwin he answers,
"We are an elite group of aerial mount enthusiasts from Waterdeep. We seek understanding with our bestial companions so that we may share the joys of the skies with them."
To Krogar,
"
Other than our usual hunting and hawking, not really no. Though one of our number has taken note that it seems a bit windier these days. And yes, it is a magnificent view. Would you care for a look?
"
He gestures to the spyglass.
Abu goes to look through the looking glass.
"Magnificent creatures."