The city of Silverymoon is widely thought to be one of the jewels of the North, a bastion of civilization and beauty in the often savage northlands. The Moonbridge's magical arc was a widely-known wonder, and its residents' efforts to live with than rather against nature were widely admired.
All of that, however, does not mean that all of its residents understand the value of all forms of life. Dragons, for example, are not viewed with the proper respect by many who live in Silverymoon. At least, the chromatic ones are not. And so it is that you are here.
A table over from where you sit, four humanoids are deep in discussion. You've caught enough to gather that they believe the rumors about a young red dragon having moved into the area, and that they plan to kill it. You have not, however, managed to hear exactly how they plan to do so. They seem aware of the possibility of eavesdroppers, and huddle close together over the table, speaking in low voices.
Zashier was in his storyteller guise which, while it looked poor and shoddy, was in fact rather well made. His robes were a muted yellowish-brown, though upon close inspection, they were a dull gold. His cloak was a patchwork mess, and the hood seemed to be sewn on as if it came from an entirely different piece of clothing.
As he walked across the tavern, he affects a limp, leaning on his gnarled walking staff for support. Overall the appearance practically yells old, likely helpless, man. He takes a seat a table and orders a hearty meal, and warm mug of spiced ale.
Shortly have his food arrives, he overhears those at the table nearby. He scowls, but says nothing. He does however, attempt to listen in. If he can't, he'll at least memorize what they look like, so he can spot them later on.
They look almost like they deliberately arranged to be a 'typical adventuring party'. A dwarf, likely a warrior by the way he carries himself and his obvious brawn. An elf, almost certainly a sneaky sort. A human woman with a pouch of spell components on her belt. And a halfling with some sort of holy symbol around her neck.
He catches only the occasional word and phrase: "...farmer was probably exaggerating..." "...look ourselves..." "...that size, we can..." "...not too much bigger..."
They don't seem to be paying him any attention, at least.
Zashier watches them carefully, while enjoying his dinner. After he finishes, he takes to the small stage and begins to tell a story, as a way of paying for his food. He could easily pay, of course, but enjoys telling tales in exchange for a hot meal or a room.
The story he weaves is one of a crimson dragon, who, after her children were brutally murdered for their hoards, seeks vengeance on the adventuring party. He tells the story in such a way that the mother is the sympathetic hero, despite that not being the typical portrayal of a dragon.
With righteous fury, she hunts down each member and confronts them. She asks them if they felt any remorse for killing her young children, just for some gold. Every one of them rebuffs her, and claims they would absolutely do it again. At which point she incinerates them. Until the last one, an older female cleric, who apparently donated her entire share of the gold to her temple, who helped orphans. She felt horrible when she learned, years later that the dragons they murdered were basically children, and so she had spent the years since trying to atone. She begs the mother dragon to kill her, but instead, she makes the cleric an offer to help raise her new clutch. The woman readily accepts, and Zashier ends the story with her climbing on the back of the mighty red, and they fly off towards her lair.
The unusual tale clearly makes some people uncomfortable, but Zashier's masterful telling soon quiets the complainers. Most of the audience seems enthralled by his words...
...but the would-be dragonslayers get up and leave partway through the tale and head upstairs, to where the rooms for rent are.
Noting that the wannabe dragon killers depart midway through his tale, and that dwarf in particular seemed upset, the dracomancer smiles. It seems perhaps his take had an effect, though what, was currently unknown.
After finishing his story, Zash spends the rest of his evening lounging in the common room, curious to see if the 'adventurers' leave.
While he does so, he tries to recall what he knows about any red dragons around Silverymoon.
He also asks the patrons if they know anything about the dragon slayers.
Chromatic dragons usually stay well away from Silverymoon, for very good reasons. A red dragon in the vicinity is not a normal occurrance--there definitely aren't any famous ones that lair in the area.
Zashier mingles among the patrons. They congratulate him on the story, though he can tell the subject matter still makes some of them a bit uncomfortable. So many people just refuse to see things from a dragon's perspective...
He's able to learn pretty quickly that this group showed up in town earlier today. They're new in the area, and don't seem to have much of a reputation, though a couple of people comment on how heavily armed the dwarf was. Apparently they've been asking around about a farmer who lives to the northeast of town.
After draining his mug of the remainder of it's contents, Zash heads out of the city, to a small clearing where Taelrurur was resting comfortably.
Taelrurur opens one eye and looks over at Zashier.
Taelrurur opens his other eye and turns his sinuous neck upwards.
"Það er skýjað í kvöld ... Ég mun sjá hvað ég get séð," he rumbles.
And with that, his serpentine body lifts into the air. He grumbles something under his breath about this being a fool's errand, but Zashier can tell he's more excited by the challenge than discouraged. Soon enough he darts off into the gloom.
After Tael takes off, Zash goes back to the tavern, and asks the keep if the dragon hunters left or not. Assuming they're still there, he pays for a room himself.
Zash ends up paying for his room by telling more stories--ones with somewhat less controversial subject matter than sympathetic dragons. He mingled for a bit with the patrons in between stories, and was able to conclude that they knew nothing about nearby dragons--trolls seemed to be their main concern. There hadn't been any troll attacks near town of late, but they were an ever-present danger in the area.
He doesn't really sleep when he goes to his room, instead slipping out not long after everyone is asleep to go meet Taelrurur. He actually beats the dragon to their meeting site, but before Zashier has had long to wait, he sees the sinuous form of his companion soaring through the air towards him.
Taelrurur comes in for a landing near Zashier. He shakes his head slightly and says, "Ég sá engin merki um drekann í nágrenninu. Ég er farin að hugsa um að þessi dreki-drekar séu að elta vindinn frekar en drekann."
"Ef ég verð að ... Ég fór að sofa þegar þú fórst út fyrir borgina," Taelrurur replies, clearly not particularly happy about it.
Zash grins
"Ég kem, ég kem," Taelrurur mutters, shifting to human form.
Heading back to the inn, Zashier pays the bar a couple gold, enough to cover several orders of food for Tael. "That should hold you till morning. I'll be up just after first light, and we'll figure out what to do then." He says, speaking in common so as not to draw any suspicions.
He'll make his way up to his room, and shortly falls asleep.
Just as Zashier is waking up in the morning to the first rays of dawn, there's a soft tap at the door, followed shortly by Taelrurur's soft but urgent voice.
"They're leaving!"
Dressing quickly, Zash hurries downstairs, hoping to catch sight of the slayers as they're leaving. He'll stop at the bar to chat briefly with the keep, so as not to draw too much attention to him basically shadowing the hunters.
A few minutes later, he heads outside, and attempts to spot the adventuring party
Zash just sees the door closing as he gets downstairs. The barkeep confirms in passing that it was the four adventurers who just left.
Walking out onto the street, he catches sight of them just as they turn a corner onto another road.
The sorcerer follows the party for awhile, trying to determine which gate they are likely to leave by. Once that's fairly obvious, he'll request that Tael takes dragon form, and they fly out of the city, getting ahead of the slayers.
It looks like they're headed north, to the Hunter's Gate. That way goes out into fairly wild territory, though there are some farms.
Crossing several streets over, Tael takes his true form, and Zash climbs aboard. They ascend slowly, and use both trees and buildings for cover as best they can to avoid being spotted by the dragon slayers.
Once out of the city, they land far enough away from Hunter's Gate to not be seen immediately, but also as close as possible to be able to spot the hunters as they leave.
Taelrurur (as usual) grumbles about the whole thing, but Zash can tell he's not serious.
No one is so jumpy as to fire on the pair as they fly out of the city, though they definitely draw some startled looks and cries. Zashier thinks he might even recognize one man looking out a window as they fly by--one of the inn patrons?
And then they're out of the city, looking over at the gate.
Zashier catches a glimpse of the slayers--they're just about to reach the gate. They don't seem to have seen Taelrurur yet, but he's out in the open here.
"It might be a good idea to resume a human guise, lest they decide to attack you first." Zash says wryly to his companion.
Once the slayers pass through the gate, and have established a definite direction, Zash and Tael will return to trailing behind them, at least for the time being. He still ins't sure what they are up to, so he doesn't want to get too far ahead of them.
You land and Taelrurur resumes his human form. The two of you watch the small group leave the gate and head down a small road that leads generally north-northeast. From what you recall of the area, there's not that much in that direction other than some small villages.
The pair decide to continue to tail the party of hunters, at least until he's positive of the direction they're heading, then takes to the sky once more, going around them, and on towards the first of the villages along this road.
There is, indeed, a 'village' along the road about a day's journey by foot from Silverymoon. It doesn't look like much from the air, just a few houses and what might be an inn or possibly just a tavern, but it's a logical place for the would-be dragonslayers to stop along their way. It looks all but deserted at present--likely it's livelier in the evening, when the farmers come in to drink after a hard day's work.
Landing a good distance away, Zash and Tael, back in human form, walk into the village, and make their way to the inn/tavern. Taking a seat at a table that allows him to keep the door in view, he orders a couple of drinks.
Zash and Tael are the only patrons in the tavern when they enter. The barkeep looks up from cleaning some mugs as they open the door, surprised, but not shocked.
Looking around, the tavern isn't much to speak of--the lack of doors on this side of the rough bar indicates that the only 'rooms' available here are spots on the floor of the common room. There are only a handful of tables, which doesn't make it hard to pick a spot where Zash can see the door.
The barkeep takes your orders by speaking to you from behind the bar. He simply places the drinks on the counter when he's poured them.
"You'll have to pick'em up yourselves, strangers," he says as he does so. "You're here before the help."
The young man gets up, taking the glasses and leaves a few coins as tip. "Thank you kindly. I've heard rumors of a red dragon sighting, is that true? Sounds scary if it is!"
The barkeep laughs. "Oh, has Nevol been spreading his stories again? Newcomer like him has his first troll problems and immediately thinks 'dragon'."
He shrugs slight. "Sure, maybe it's not trolls. Plenty of other things out in the woods, though. From what he said maybe it's a desperate warg. Whatever it was, though, noone's seen no dragons flying around here. They'd have to be pretty stupid to get this close t' Silverymoon, and from all I've heard, dragons aren't stupid."
"Who's Nevol? Does he live around here? And have you been having a lot of trouble with trolls lately?"
The barkeep chuckles a bit. "Full of questions, aren't you, stranger? What, are you and your friends looking for monsters to slay?"
He shrugs slightly. "This's the North. Always something causing trouble, whether it's trolls or wargs or orcs. Nevol's just another farmer, moved here a few years back. If you think you can do something to whatever's bothering him, I can give you directions. Just be careful. We *do* have trolls in these woods sometimes, and they're not to be trifled with."
"I'm a storyteller by trade, but I also am sort of a wandering missionary. I try to help those in need. I would appreciate it if you could direct me to Nevol, yes."
The barkeep gives you some directions (turn at the big pine tree-style), adding, "If your god can help out with trolls and wargs, he's welcome here."
Zash smiles "Well, let's hope that we both can help out. Have a good rest of your day." He tips him a full gold coin for the information, then heads out to the farmer who's apparently having all sorts of issues.
Zashier and Taelrurur walk for a few hours before reaching a location meeting the description of Nevol's homestead. There's a house and a barn, both solidly-built, with a rough fence around both of them. The homestead is surrounded by cultivated fields, though you can see the forest beyond in the north and east. You can also see a figure in one of the fields, hunched over, working the earth.
Zash walks over to the man, and politely clears his throat to get the farmer's attention. "Afternoon my good man. I'm looking for farmer Nevol, who I have heard has been having some trouble round these parts. My friend and I are wandering missionaries, so we thought we could offer to help."
The man in question looks up as you approach, frowning. His frown deepens as his listens. "Aye, I'm Nevol," he states, warily. "I'm not converting, if that's the kind of help you're offering."
Zash chuckles good-naturedly "Not at all. I heard something about dragons or trolls harassing you?"
"Yeah?" Nevol turns from you back to his work. "What of it?"
"I said my friend and I were here to help. As in, help you deal with the dragons and trolls. We ask for nothing in return, so would you like our assistance or not?"
Nevol pauses in his work, then looks back up at Zashier.
"You honestly are? Not to tell me I don't know what my own eyes saw? Well, prove it."
He points to the forest to the northeast. "It broke through my fence a few nights ago and killed one of my cows. Made enough racket to wake me up. I caught sight of red scales and wings as it drug half my cow off into the woods--it wasn't a troll."
He looks back to Zashier. "You think you can deal with that, stranger?"
"I believe you, and I will do my best. It certainly sounds like it could be a dragon."
With that, he and Tael will depart(unless Nevol has anything else to add).
Once well out of ear shot, Zash turns to his friend "I'm not entirely sure it's a dragon, but we're here, so we might has well investigate."