Metalla smiles curtly and steps forward at the opportunity provided to her by Alaric.
"Aye, Temel 'as 'is bejeweled fingers in many pies n' can offer cheaper wares, but consider th' advantages o' a business relationship with mah' mercantile concern: our network is many centuries old, and th' quality o' our goods be unrivaled. Furthermore, an arrangement with a firm with such deep roots in the Five Kings Mountains would reinforce the military alliance the Society is already negotiating for their efforts up in th' Worldwound."
The dwarf digs around in a small chest she pops open before firmly pressing a flask of her own into Ugnoth's hand.
"There's a potion o' th' endurance o' a bear for ye all t' show appreciation for yer consideration for future trade."
The two "merchants" step back to allow you to consider their offers, interested mostly in your good word on their parts to skew future business in their respective directions.
Amauhak simply nods from a distance and fixes his eyes on the horizon ahead.
Passad and Metella spend the next fifteen to twenty minutes of the voyage continuing to press their cases in the most respectful ways possible, both seeking to be favored in some way over the other when you all return to the Grand Lodge in Abasalom and speak of their potential as a supplier to the Society's agents.
Near dusk, the captain of the Abacus points out a pleasant country inn up a hill on the north shore of the Glass River where a small dock offers a berth for the boat.
Passad and the envoys both indicate their plans to wait out the night in their cabins aboard the Abacus while you all execute your mission up the hill at the Gray Revelation Inn.
Amauhak, mostly quiet, steps forward and speaks.
"Be careful, friends. I recommend you do your best to refrain from further violence on Razmiri soil if it can be helped."
Metella and Passad, neither who have agreed on much of anything since you left Druma, finally agree on this one point.
A stone path leads from the dock about 200 yards through some light tree cover up to the villa.
The Pathfinders grab their packs and gear and begin the short hike up the hill on the north shore.
Map of the Gray Revelation Inn
As you make your way up the road, you spot a sign above a wide wooden gate that reads, "Welcome to the Gray Revelation Inn".
Clearly, you're in the right place.
The gate leans open invitingly, and the smell of fresh flowers wafts on the cool breeze.
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"I think you both have merit, and will say so to the pathfinder lodge on your behalf. I suppose, if I must pick just one of you, it'd be Metella. That's a cool name."
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Damvorak gathers his gear and heads to the Inn. He gestures toward the courtyard as the best way to enter and then heads in that direction if there is no dissent.
He uses his staff to push open the gate wider and strides in with Ramli, ready to act the merchant.
After pushing the gate a few inches wider, Damvorak and you all proceed into the courtyard.
The profusion of flowers planted around this lovely courtyard fills the air with an enchanting fragrance. An oaken door to the north is the obvious entrance to the inn, while south are the broad doors of a stable. Wooden gates allow egress to west and east, and a roofed well lies at the east end of the main court.
From the stables to your right, a large young man with a simple expression pushes open another gate and dusts off his hands on his overalls before shaking his hand in the air with a hearty wave.
His affliction quickly becomes evident to all of you - he is not only mute, but some form of simpleton.
Grimacing a bit as he stretches, he bobs his head up and down with a goofy smile and begins to gesture toward the doors to your left. He then pantomimes like he's walking, thrusting his arms in exaggerated motions before chortling to himself and bobbing his head again.
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"You there," he snaps at Sad Rock. "Go see if you can find the innkeep."
Sad Rock nearly drops his project, trying to tie on the drake's skull to the end of his club, in his haste to respond on the barked order. Flustered, he nearly bashes his own head with his hurried salute and runs to find the innkeep.
Sad proceeds in the direction indicated by the simpleton (the man, not Ramli).
"Innkeep! Innkeep!" Sad says, heading for E3.
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After a quick bird-bath with Ugnoth, Damvorak too strides into the inn. He tries to look like he is important. He takes a few moments by the door to take in the scene, and then heads to the best available table for him and the party. He sits down leisurely and lets the stress of recent travels fall from his mind as he looks around the room.
After refreshing themselves at the well, the Pathfinders make their way into the interior of the Gray Revelation Inn.
Dark oaken tables, chairs and benches fill this comfortable, L-shaped common room, and the faint odors of tobacco and ale permeate the air. Narrow windows with panes of smoked glass along the north and south walls allow some light into this welcoming space.
An old, matronly woman clad in peasant clothing and an apron sits at the centermost table of this room. Her voluminous white hair is piled atop her head and secured in a conservative bun. She wears a red scarf about her neck and a wry smile on her face and pauses in her efforts as you all enter.
"Ahhh! Visitors! Precious visitors! Please, have a seat. Do you seek lodgings for the night...?"
Her voice creaks with age as she draws out each word she speaks.
The young boy stands in the doorway with a blank stare, apparently awaiting some instruction.
Her volume increases as she calls out through the main room.
"Sisters! Sisters! We have visitors!"
The door to the kitchen creaks open and two other elderly women, practically identical in age and appearance, peek out at you all. The smell of cooking stew stirs hunger in the stomachs of all (except perhaps Sad Rock, who had his fill of river drake earlier).
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"Lodgings would be nice, but I'm afraid time may be a concern."
Ramli looks around as if trying to see if anyone's listening. Finally he shrugs and leans in toward the woman, speaking in a conspiratorial whisper.
"See, we are on an urgent trade mission, and we've learned that several dwarves may be seeking to outpace us and arrive at our destination first. We believe they may be coming this way, but we think we've stolen a march on them. Might you have seen or heard of any of the short, bearded folk" -- he strokes his own impressive beard at these words -- "have passed this way?"
The first elderly woman, wearing the red scarf, seems to nod somewhat absentmindedly at Ramli's words.
"Mmm hmm..."
She gestures to the simpleton and then to her sisters.
"Eugenia, Tarsi. Bring stew for our hungry... merchants, was it?"
Eugenia, wearing a yellow scarf disappears into the kitchen first, yet Tarsi lingers for a moment. She grins, revealing a large gap between her two front teeth as her eyes scan Alaric's form.
"That one's too skinny, Addas. I'll bring out pastries, too..."
Standing, the original sister gestures to one of the larger tables that can accommodate all five of you.
"Hmmm? You're quite lucky, the Grymble sisters have been working hard on this stew all day. Oh, yes. We hope you brought your appetites."
Very slowly, she begins to set the table for you all, seemingly oblivious to Ramil's inquiry.
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Damvorak goes with the flow and prepares to eat the witches brew. Eating Dwarf meat no doubt. he muses to himself. Though he doesn't take it seriously, he does wonder if they are a coven - and if so are they the ones taking the Dwarves.
He looks around the bar at the other patrons. Are there many others here? Is there anyone else here?
He wishes he prepared purify food and drink today...
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It takes the two matronly women in the kitchen several minutes, but eventually they hobble out to the common room with hot bowls of stew.
Addas smiles and grabs the simpleton, Rosh, by his ear and leads him out to the well where they are apparently working to fetch a pail of fresh water.
Eugenia and Tarsi both watch as you all begin your meal with anxious eyes.
"Yes," Eugenia begins, arranging her yellow scarf so that it doesn't fall into a bowl, "it's good and hot, isn't it?"
"Yes," Tarsi follows, "fresh meat caught this week by hunters."
Tarsi nudges a plate of scones nearer to Alaric and Damvorak.
"Don't forget the pastries, dearies!"
Eventually the bowls are drained and all that remains of the Grymble sisters' pastries are crumbs. Soon, even those crumbs disappear with Sad Rock's assistance.
Eugenia brings out a second serving, and you all are soon stuffed with their stew, which you find to be exceptionally tasty. In fact, it might be the best stew you've ever tasted.
Afterwards, Addas approaches you to talk business.
"Now, isn't that better gentlemen? How many rooms will you all be needing this evening? We have three sizes available."
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Damvorak eats, but lightly. Worry eats at every bite as he wonders what sort of meat they might be eating and what sort of hosts they have.
"We'll stay close I think." as Damvorak suggests the E6 and E7 rooms for the large party.
Pushing the eventually empty bowl away he continues, "So have you seen any Dwarves pass this way or do you think we're ahead of them at last?"
Eugenia frowns a bit at the mention of dwarves while she collects the empty bowl.
"We see dwarves from time to time. None recently, though."
She looks to Tarsi for a moment before heading into the kitchen.
Addas makes arrangements to rent your rooms before smiling a crooked grin and wishing you a pleasant rest.
Ugnoth and Sad Rock stand from their chairs and head into the kitchen themselves.
A tasty stew bubbles in a large black cauldron in the fireplace, and the counters are covered with bushels of cherries and apples in varying stages of being made into jam and canned. Barrels and casks of various spirits are found here along with mugs and other tableware.
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"Hey Stone, lets go check the kitchen and pantry...perhaps we can find some more rare meat still on the bone."
Sad gives Ugnoth a long look of confuzzlement until he gets it.
Rock now Stone. Oh yeah, we traitors.
"Okay, Uglynot, we go to kitchen. Maybe see how scones are made."
Sad Happy Stone follows Ugnoth around.
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Sad Rock sits with Ugnoth and works on his club. Despite the image he had in his mind, things aren't turning quite right.
Sad keeps trying to lash on the skull on the end of his club and make sure it stay on even when he's hitting things. It's harder than it looks.
"This good place, Uglynot. We eat good and sleep nice too," Sad says, his tongue sticking out in concentration at what he's working on.
As Ugnoth, Sad Rock and any other Pathfinders step out of their rooms late in the middle of the night, they can still hear the crackle of the fire in the guest den , which does an admirable job of maintaining warmth in the inn throughout the cold night.
The common room is quiet as well as the interior courtyard . Ugnoth finds the back gate is locked, along with the front doors being barred . This doesn't appear to be any malicious intent, but rather just a way to provide safety for the inn's guests. Carefully lifting the cross-bar, he makes his way all the way around to the western door of the common room and is let back in by the Pathfinders who remained behind.
He discovers nothing of significant note on his "night walk".
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Weapon Equipped = Staff
Conditions = None
Hand of the Acolyte = 6/6
Resistant Touch = 6/6
Channel Energy = 3/3
Spells
Cantrips DC 13: Create Water, Detect Magic, Purify Food and Drink, Stabilize
First Level DC 14: Identify, Command, Divine Favor, Remove Fear
Damvorak doesn't leave the inn at night, but rather stays close during his watch. When he's not keeping an eye on the others, he's sleeping soundly.
In the morning he prays at length and on his knees to Nethys and rising, eventually, for breakfast. He memorized Purify Food and Drink today and quietly, privately, casts it on his morning meal.
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Alaric sets his jaw as the ladies address him so rudely. "If I were wearing my colours they wouldn't dare... Say, what is that smell? Temel hasn't fed us a decent meal all week..."
Alaric seems somewhat dissapointed that they don't yet have a fight on his hands. "Say, crack open some ale!" he bellows, slamming his gauntlet down on the table. Once his request is granted he spends the night quaffing tankard after tankard and swapping stories with the others about his experiences on the Southern front and how one can never trust a Qadiran. Suddenly wistful, he drapes an arm around Sad Rock's shoulder. "...used... used to be so simple, you know? Sh... Sholdiering. Nothing like this... ... this adventuring." he complains, launching into a long tirade. Before long, he falls asleep, snoring loudly.
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Damvorak spends a little time in front of the fire in E6 until the house grows more quiet. He then wanders through E3 to the kitchen where he grabs another scone and looks around a little for jam and whatnot.
He'll then, quietly, open the door and head out to E2 where he casually stretches a bit and looks up at the night sky. He spends a few moments there just enjoying himself, before heading to the stables.
He looks in each stable at E12, and spends a little time searching E11 for evidence the Dwarves were here.
If he runs into anyone in the stable area, he says, "Don't you just love the sweet smell of hay in the cool night? I couldn't sleep and this smell always relaxes me."
Damvorak's midnight walk begins as uneventfully as Ugnoth's earlier stroll, starting with an extra scone and jam.
As he lets himself out into the interior courtyard and wanders over to the stables, something metallic catches his eye obscured by some of the hay the lines the floor of the stalls.
Leaning down to pick it up, he finds an iron medallion - a holy symbol of Torag, small specks of blood identifiable on its surface.
From the far side of the stables , an untamed mare wakens, snorts and stamps its hooves restlessly at Damvorak's presence.
There is a small cot in the stables as well, presumably for Rosh the mute stableboy. It is currently empty.
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Well the Dwarves made it this far then anyway.
He wonders for a moment if the stories are true - witches turning people into creatures. He wonders if the mare is actually one of the dwarves. Wonders about it for a while in fact.
But he eventually heads back indoors. Wouldn't do to get caught out here now with this holy symbol.
He returns to his room and goes back to sleep until his watch.
During his watch, and in the morning with everyone else, he tells of what he found in the stable. He does it whisperingly and one at a time to help avoid eavesdropping by the three hostesses.
"...so we know they made it here, and no further. I suggest we search the place top to bottom and stop hiding behind our ruse. Let's start with the stables. That mare from last night may be in that stall to hide a secret door, or maybe the bodies are buried there. What do you think?"
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Alaric, squinting in the harsh morning light and rubbing his temples, follows Damvorak in the yard. "Seems as good a place as any to start." he manages queasily, scooping up a nearby bucket and leaning onto the well for support. He splashes his face and draws himself and places a hand on the half-orc's shoulders. "Here, leave this to me. I rode with the Taldan Horse for three winters, I can handle a frightened mare."
He stretches out a hand, approaching the horse confidently. As the mare rears her head, he pauses for a moment. "Woah, easy girl." he says, soothingly, stretching out his hand again, allowing the horse to approach. "That's it, girl. Easy."
Damvorak, standing and pausing as he contemplates the wild mare, spins on his heel with intentions to return to his room to get some sleep.
As he begins to leave the entrance to the stables, he can barely make out a noise.. something like a cross between a moan and a scream.. muffled, dwarf-like, seemingly coming from below the mess of hay he's standing upon. The sound seems weak, desperate...
As Alaric approaches the stall, he stands outside it for a moment, making cooing noises before he gets too close to the door. The mare doesn't respond in a typical manner that he's used to.
Alaric, glancing about the stables, also recalls there was another horse here, which appears to be missing along with the stable boy, whose cot lays empty at this late hour.