Perdix will try to get a nice comfortable room at the Inn. This sleeping on the ground stuff is for barbarians.
Invest in a stylish cloak!
Seriously, Muga checks around the place, going on a shopping trip, looking for a cloak of resistance.
~I am not getting floored by squeaky noises again. Even if it means wearing some stupid cloak.~
Perdix and Muga ignore the rest of the party and walk through the gates of Iadenveigh then proceed to search for an inn and shops, respectively.
Perdix finds an inn and pays the standard rate to get a room for the night. It is a simple inn without any fancy decorations, mostly wood with a few antlers on wooden boards above the walls. Stashing some of his belongings in his room, he sees the polished wood and stuffed pillows filled with feathers and wool.
Muga finds no magical items of any kind while he goes shopping. He does find a market filled with fresh produce, the largest vegetables and juiciest, ripest fruit. The merchants also sell various farming and survival equipment.
Yvell goes to check in on Red Fang as the other two go off on their individual needs, he had many questions to ask. He knows some would dislike an item or two but calms them ad inquires the location of various well known areas s well as the location of Red Fang.
Many of the townsfolk eye Yvell strangely. They whisper in hushed tones and point at his exposed tech. Some of the townsfolk whisper, "Someone should go get Redfang," or, "Is he gonna blow up the town?", but no one does anything. Most of the people also try to avoid Yvell.
A young lad in farmer's overalls answers Yvell's query. "Mr. Ashworth is up in Highhome." He points to the large building at the top of a hill.
Gramanar glowers at the assembling townsfolk, trying to disperse them by mentioning that these are tough, busy travelers with no affiliations.
The townsfolk further keep away from the travelers after Grammanar glowers at them.
The party heads to the center of town where High Home is. The large wooden lodge is much bigger than the other buildings in Iadenveigh.
The building's interior is smoky and dark, with high ceilings and large windows protected by stout shutters. It's a multipurpose building, serving as a tavern, a community hall, a reception area for visitors, and a place for the town council to convene.
A young man wearing hunter's leathers, with a composite longbow on his back and a battleaxe at his side walks towards you.
"Well, travelers, or adventurers, or ruin robbers. What's your business here?" As he speaks you can see his teeth are discolored red. He's very upfront but he doesn't seem to be angry or annoyed at your presence. He is also staring at any technological items you might have visible.
"Friends of Baine," Grammanar offers. "He said you might have some political troubles, and some old ruins, and you could use a strong hand in dealing with both."
The hunter raises an eyebrow. "Political troubles? Oh you must mean the Varisians. Not they aren't trouble. Just travelers like yourselves. If you're here to check out the ruins, I would be careful. Definitely do not bring back anything that you find here. I would also ask that you keep any of these items away from the town. Most of the locals believe the stuff is dangerous." He flashes his red teeth. "I do have a small job, if you're interested."
"Name's Iadrin Ashworth, but everyone calls me Redfang."
"And what would this job entail?" Val asks.
Yvell felt slightly uncomfortable by the looks of disdain or unease. He had gotten used to the pleasantries of Torch and even Scrapwall. He had to get used to the feelings he once had before meeting Valtyra and the previous Torch exploration group. Looking the hunter up and down he nods in agreement with Valtyra.
" Yes, please do tell. I can assure you though some of use may use items you may deem.. unsavory, our ability to complete almost any task is exemplary. An acquaintance of Khonnir we shall do with just as much fervor as himself. Especially if it would shed any light on that Tower just outside of town. Something big must have come through there. "
"Helping us out could put you in better favor with the townsfolk."
"It has always been hard to extend trust to outlanders. We are a self-sufficient settlement-we have no need for trade, and can take care of ourselves. It's the safest option, as I know you understand. It's difficult to tell who you can rely on, but there are two things you can do to earn the trust of the Deadeye Council.
First, I would like some help in solving a problem with one of our more ... colorful residents. Second, there's an issue with a possible traitor in our midst that outsiders would be particularly well suited to handle."
" We can agree to such terms, the information of the .. resident and traitor will need to be more... exact for it to be any use. "
"There is a farmer named Jevik. He is constantly complaining about bandits, monsters, abominations attacking his farm, though every time that I've investigated, I have found nothing. The last time he complained, though, he was sober. Head out west and check it out for me."
Yvell looks to the rest and nods, " Seems easy enough, I suppose we will know a bit more about this traitor after we finish this routine task? "
"Yeah... they might not want to tell us more about their troubles until they're sure we don't seem like League spies."
Yvell cracks a sneer at Grammanar's truthful remark, " Of course, that makes complete sense. Anyone could say the exact thing we are so a test is all but expected. In Scrapwall they had similar rulings with scrapworth. It determined almoost all opportunities. I find this land has various ways of completing said ritual. "
Yvell scratches the end of his chin. " This Jevik however, may be hallucinating... or he truly is experiencing problems... it might be unseen. Or wholly mental. "
"Of course, you only needed scrapworth in Scrapwall if you stuck out like a paladin at a demonic whore house. I never needed any to get people to like or respect me there."
Yvell's eyes graced Muga for a long while before he chuckled, " You might want to rephrase that, a demon boudoir would value a paladin the most but for different reasons. Scrapworth didnt just determine if people liked you.. it was access, status, the usual symbol of power. Once we gained so much they didnt even deem to attack us nor risk the reprisal. "
"Didn't say you wouldn't be valued, just that you'd be sticking out."
"As for being attacked, none of us were EVER attacked, before or after scrapworth. We were always the ones attacking."
Perdix will see if room service is available at the Inn. Unlikely, but he thinks it should.
Yvell seems to be confused and then remembers there were bits he had forgot to mention. " Ah... Maybe you were unaware Muga but sometimes scrappers would try an waylay other scrappers that traveled in Scrapwall with these groups.. a good portion of orc-blooded died because of it, the rest ran off generally. Groups of 4 to 6. " He adjust his armor somewhat.
Perdix finds that there is no "room service." Simple meals are done in the common room, by the small tavern. It serves simple game when its open, but not too late into the night. The hosts offer him some rabbit or pheasant, "Not too much spoilage on them. Still very fresh."
--------------
Heading west past the large walls called the Elkhorn Wall, you travel for about half an hour before you reach a solitary farm.
The odor of pigs marks Jevik's farm before it comes into view. Visible from a wide break in a roadside hedge, the house has been recently painted and sports a wide porch with several chairs. An orchard is partially visible behind the house. A few sheds and two connected pens occupy most of the side yard, but the fencing of the pen has been splintered and the earth churned.
A large amount of blood has been spilled on the porch.
"I hope that's pig?" Grammanar wonders aloud.
Yvell narrows his eyes and revs his Chainsaw Blade. " I don't like this situation on bit. That is an unnaturally large amount of blood, even for pigs.. and you don't slaughter them on your front porch. We might have gotten here after an incident.. let's not tarry. "
He rushes towards the house porch to inspect the area. The windows, blood, doors, anything out of the ordinary.
Muga saunters in after Yvell. "Ah, look, more bad things happening just before we get here. We have excellent timing." He looks to see if any of the blood has started drying, or if it is relatively fresh.
"This is rather disturbing. We're supposed to talk to the farmer I gather? I have a feeling that might not be easy. "
Yvell twitches at Muga's comment, " That seems to have been happening as of late... we normally have a better track record than this normally... Let's hope he simply went temporarily insane.. but I highly doubt this. "
Yvell notices deep, large claw marks and furrows cut into the ground. There are also tracks seeming to lead towards the crops in the northeast.
"As always, I can't speak for before I joined the group, but the only time I've ever arrived in time to help the survivors, I wasn't with you guys."
Yvell places a hand up, " Later. We've done so before.. we will do so again.. " He moves to quickly follow the obvious disturbance, taking the tracks through the crops.
Val follows Yvell drawing her mace with a sigh. "Here we go again" She mutters to herself.
Perdix follows along, well to the rear and hopefully safety.
Grammanar draws his pistol and steps carefully.
Muga shows his usual level of caution, aka, clanky sauntering, sword at his hip.
Peering through the orchard, small green trees long dried and dead, some flattened to make a clearing, you can see two huge animal shapes, mutated bears with spikes and tentacles. They do not see you as they are busy ripping apart bloodied pigs and a vaguely humanoid shape.
1. Perdix, Valtyra, Muga, Grammanar
2. Enemies
3. Juxt, Phylla, Yvell
Perdix, noting the danger defaults to his normal panicky haste casting. "Go get em!"
Yvell's eyes go narrow with distaste as he sees the scene opening before him. He raises his voice in a rousing call to the gods as his blade and flames come alight. " Quickly, Cut them down! We may yet be able to help that man. Slaughter the bears. Phylla.. you have permission to sup thier red food. "
The song starts and his fury is known.
-Posted with Wayfinder