"Lovely t' be the center o' attention, inn't it?" Morgrym grumbles to the others. He raises a hand and waves to Zokar, "Mornin', Publican! By chance be ye open fer breakfast? I've a hunger, and dinna want t' encroach overmuch on me host."
Morgrym looks at their darkened faces and says, "Well, if'n ye don' have bacon, ham, or eggs ready, just say so, and I'll be on me way..."
Zokar responds to Morgrym, but keeps at a bit of an awkward distance for conversation. Yeah, sure. Embra is inside. She can get you whatever you'd like. At that, he goes back to gossiping among the townsfolk.
Morgrym's belly rumbles at the thought. "Sounds delicious. Come on, lass, nothin' takes care of a poor night's sleep like a hearty meal." Unless stopped, the dwarf heads into the tavern for breakfast, surfacing again when he finishes.
She clearly heard the snippets amongst the townfolk, Her suspicions seeing them all gathered about the commons so early in the morning was only heightened by the accidentaly eavesdropping. It sounded very... she lacked the words to clearly convey what she thought. It did sound eerily simular to some of the strangeness from last night.
I think.. whatever caused my and miss Kendra's bad dreams last night might have effected some others too.
She whispered lowly to Morgrym half leaning forward to be closer to his ear.
Your right breakfast sounds like a good plan. Unless business presses us onwards?
She asked Coiger... She had a feeling the preacher didnt think breakfast was that important a thing really.
"So long as there is coffee, breakfast sounds lovely." Coiger's smile is not at all (as one can image) reassuring.
"On me, then," Morgrym offers. He walks into the tavern, goes up to the bar, and orders three plates of breakfast, plus coffee for three if it is available, otherwise he opts for strong tea. "So, Embra, what be the news this mornin'? Seems a good number o' folk be millin' about outside. 'r is that th' regular way o' things?"
Zokar's wife looks about as if unsure if she's allowed to tell and then answers anxiously. You...haven't heard? She then looks down and mutters to herself, Well, Zokar did say that you seemed like good folk. Then she looks back at Morgrym and goes on. There was a bit of vandalism found this morning, along with a slaughtered cat. Someone splashed the cat's blood all over the Harrowstone monument and used the blood to write a "V". It's one thing to kill a pesky cat, but to splatter it's blood all over the monument... Why?! So strange. Anyway, I'll go fetch your breakfast.
The door opens and a slightly older woman answers the door. "Yes how may I... Oh Richter its you. What are you doing out so early this morning?'
Richter smiles. "A good morning to you Mrs. Smith. I was wondering if you could check in on my mother every now and then. I have to take care of some business and may not be home for some time. I have already talked to her." Richter hands the woman a small pouch with 20 silver in it.
"I want you to have this for the trouble."
She looks astonished and tries to refuse the money but ends up taking it anyway.
"I will make sure she is taken care of, don't you worry. Be safe Richter."
He smiles and says and gives his thanks and then heads towards Kendra's house.
Passing through the town Richter realizes something is amiss.
Richter moves on though not really picking up much information. He heads through town.
Morgrym sees Richter through the window of the tavern and waves at him to come inside. "Blood on th' monument ye say? That be a queer thing fer sure. Is yer sheriff lookin' into it?" He pulls several silver out of his pouch to cover the meals.
Richter notices Morgrym waving him in and enters the establishment.
"Well met master dwarf!" He nods in turn to the others at the table. Richter looks around at the people in the building and asks in a hushed voice. "What is the trouble?"
Morgrym pushes out a chair for Richter to sit, shaking his head as he says, "Sumptin' be up at the monument, the one o' the prison. Sounds grim, too. Blood all over the damn thing, apparently, and a dead cat next t' it." Scratching at his beard, he muses, "Reckon' we should go take a look at it, eh? Wonder if'n that local sheriff might need a hand figgurin' out who dunnit. Coiger here'd prob'ly get it inna minute or two o' thinkin."
When the breakfast comes, it's a little greasy, but the coffee is actually quite excellent. The star of the meal, however, is a potato-sausage hash. It's truly delicious, albeit pretty heavy.
Morgrym puts down 18 silver pieces for the food, drink, and information. "Truly, it be a delicious concoction ye have here, Madam Embra, an' the best in hospitality and... such other things as be needin'. Should have me set fer the rest o' the day, but I'm sure t' be back again before long."
Looking to the others and says, "I'm wont t' eat that again, I best find the smithy an' see if I might be o' help. We're to be here fer a whole month, and I best be makin' meself useful somewhere."
He looks at Richter. "Ye know the forge woman here, lad? Might be that breakfast is worth an introduction to her for me."
Richter nods "I do not know her personally but I do know where she resides. If you follow me I can take you to her."
Embra blushes at Morgrym's praise, then her face goes very serious and she leans in. The sheriff is down there now, but you lot ought to be careful poking around. Rumor has it you all are suspects. You understand, you come into town and that very night we have an incident. It is suspicious...but you seem like good folk, near as I've seen. Just watch yourselves. And if you do mean trouble, please just move on. Please?
"Coiger here'd prob'ly get it inna minute or two o' thinkin."
Over the edge of his coffee cup Coiger replies: "Well, perhaps now I might. This coffee is excellent madam."
Embra blushes at Morgrym's praise, then her face goes very serious and she leans in. The sheriff is down there now, but you lot ought to be careful poking around. Rumor has it you all are suspects. You understand, you come into town and that very night we have an incident. It is suspicious...but you seem like good folk, near as I've seen. Just watch yourselves. And if you do mean trouble, please just move on. Please?
To which a more energetic (though still fatigued) Coiger says wryly: "Every would-be suspect should visit the scene of their suspected crime at least once. We should meet this constable." At least to know who it is we should be hiding from should we need to resort to skullduggery. He thinks.
He pays his due and even though he is by nature a notoriously poor tipper he does tip 25% (5 sp) this time.
Kendra asks Sohar to wait a moment in a voice that betrays the fact that he's awakened her. A minute later, she opens the door and steps out in a robe, her hair pulled up in a bun. Good morning, Sohar. Pardon me. I've been sleeping later since...lately. Are the others up? I'm afraid I was in quite a state last night and I'm curious to learn more about everyone's odd dreams, or whatever they were. I'll put on some coffee and we can talk in the kitchen.
He pays his due and even though he is by nature a notoriously poor tipper he does tip 25% (5 sp) this time.
Morgrym waves away Coiger's money. "I got ye covered this monrin', Coiger. Ye can buy t'morrow, if need be."
Indeed, visiting the smithy and a chance to work for a dwarf would be my honor, but a visit to the sheriff first wouldnt be amiss. I do not like being accused of anything ...especially when i've done no wrong though i can understand their suspicion i suppose.
She had never had coffee before, It was certainly eye opening and different but not in a bad way at all. For a moment she had almost forgotten all about the nightmare from the night before.
Where to boys?
She asked softly.
"I think maybe the smithy first, see what our luck be there, then on to th' sheriff. Don't want to give away our best source o' goins-on here in town." He taps the side of his nose while giving Embra a conspiratorial wink while standing and heading out the door.
The smithy is exceptionally easy to find, as it is right on the town square and very noisy. As you enter the work stall, you see a huge array of tools hanging on the walls. A corner of the smithy appears to be used as the showroom, and there you see mostly farming implements with a few common knives and swords, too. Two filthy apprentices are hammering on a piece of redhot iron while a greyhaired dwarven woman and a third apprentice are hunched over another item. The dwarf woman doesn't even look up, but the apprentice standing with her walks over. Good morning. What do you need today?
The note. Right. Sorry. Let's see. She breaks the seal and quickly reads it. Ha! Pompous ass. It says Mr. Adrissant was called away on urgent business in Lepidstadt and that I'm to ship "his" books to his home in Caliphas. He'll be waiting for those for a long while. They're clearly not even his if my father wants them taken to the University. Well, one less thing to worry about this morning. Sohar, you're very kind to stay, but I'm doing much better. You're welcome to go join the others, if you wish. I have a couple of letters to write anyway. She smiles at Sohar with warm gratitude.
Good morning. What do you need today?
"Good mornin', lad! We be new t' town, and wish t' offer our services to the lady o' the forge there, as we be folk skilled at the crafting trade, and will be here in town for a month 'r more to come, we dinna want to simply set up shop on our own, but t' work with the best. If she be free, we'd be much obliged to talk wi' her."
The young woman looks back to the dwarf and takes on a guilty look. Well, um... I'm sure Jorfa would love to meet you folks and see what you can do, but...we're working on a fairly intricate piece. Let me...
At that the dwarf woman drops her hammer noisily on the anvil and calls out, Aw, for Torag's sake, girl. They're comin' or they're goin'? Either way, quit yer stammerin'. You come back to work here. I think you can handle the bird at least. Now, you folks, ya say you can work iron? Ya got anything to show me?
"Good mornin', lad! We be new t' town, and wish t' offer our services to the lady o' the forge there, as we be folk skilled at the crafting trade, and will be here in town for a month 'r more to come, we dinna want to simply set up shop on our own, but t' work with the best. If she be free, we'd be much obliged to talk wi' her."
Diplomacy: 17
Morgrym bows low at the waist, and addresses her with a formality that he has not shown thus far. "Madam Forgemaster, I'd be Morgrym of the mines of Barstoi. Me work is armorcrafting, and this piece should speak to itself. I know me way around forge, hammer, and anvil." He draws forth his chain shirt from his pack, one he crafted himself, and holds it forth in display.
She nods appreciatively to Morgrym, acknowledging his manners and show of respect. Armor is your thing, eh? Let's have a look. She takes the offered chain shirt and inspects it with a practiced eye. As she inspects, she does a lot of nodding and grunting.
"Aye, that it be. Not sure if ye have a call fer much o' it here in the farmlands, but sure'n a milita needs t' be prepared when roused."
Richter sits back quietly and watches the conversation between the dwarves.
Chellian was silent, almost in awe of being near an actual dwarf smith. She let her eyes wander around the working area of the dwarf. It didnt appear any different to her fathers back home at all a small smile appeared on her face.
My father is a smith back home, I used to help him often as well, Your shop is very well maintained. And three apprentices, I hope they realize how lucky they are and study well.
She smiled brightly.
Have you been in this town for a long time master Smith?
Finally, the forgemaster speaks, A fine piece, young one. You have potential. I don't have any orders for armor at present, but should you convince anyone in town to place an order, I'd contract with you for the work. Been an age since I oversaw another dwarf working iron. I've only passed through Barstoi myself. Which clan claims you?
Jorfa nods appreciatively at Chellian's compliments. A smith's girl who actually learned a thing or two! Well, now. Most daughters I've known were too skittish of getting their hands dirty. Have you any ironwork to show me, girl? She snorts in amusement at the question of her time in town. I've been in Ravengro as long as Ravengro has been Ravengro. I came here just short after construction was completed on the old prison. There was call for a smith. I had need of a home. Been here ever since.
So, who are you folks? I've heard tell of a few outsiders ruffling feathers. What do you want here? Are you behind the stir down at the monument? Clearly her time living in a human village hasn't diminished her dwarven charm.
Finally, the forgemaster speaks, A fine piece, young one. You have potential. I don't have any orders for armor at present, but should you convince anyone in town to place an order, I'd contract with you for the work. Been an age since I oversaw another dwarf working iron. I've only passed through Barstoi myself. Which clan claims you?
Jorfa nods appreciatively at Chellian's compliments. A smith's girl who actually learned a thing or two! Well, now. Most daughters I've known were too skittish of getting their hands dirty. Have you any ironwork to show me, girl? She snorts in amusement at the question of her time in town. I've been in Ravengro as long as Ravengro has been Ravengro. I came here just short after construction was completed on the old prison. There was call for a smith. I had need of a home. Been here ever since.
So, who are you folks? I've heard tell of a few outsiders ruffling feathers. What do you want here? Are you behind the stir down at the monument? Clearly her time living in a human village hasn't diminished her dwarven charm.
"I can assure you madam we are not responsible for the trouble at the monument, in fact I don't think any of us have even been by the place. We only just came to town to pay our respects to the late Professor Lorrimor, and to see his final wishes carried out in regards to helping ensure the well-being of his daughter now that he has departed." His eyes momentary leave Jorfa's to rest for the briefest of moments on the nearest apprentice before turning back to the matron. "What sort of monument is it exactly?
Jorfa appears unconvinced, but she isn't acting particularly condemning to begin with. It's a statue of the old Harrowstone warden, Hawkran, built in honor of those who burned up that night. It's gotta be, what, 50 years now? Well, anymore it's just a popular spot for young'uns to go and snog. Psh! No respect, eh, priest?
Jorfa appears unconvinced, but she isn't acting particularly condemning to begin with. It's a statue of the old Harrowstone warden, Hawkran, built in honor of those who burned up that night. It's gotta be, what, 50 years now? Well, anymore it's just a popular spot for young'uns to go and snog. Psh! No respect, eh, priest?
"We all think we are invincible when we're young, that the rules don't apply. Time tempers us all til ours is up. So it was a fire then that destroyed the prison? I gather the warden helped halt the spread of the fire at grave cost. But why not just rebuild the place? Surely there would still be a need for it."
She nodded at Coiger's words, after all, it seemed their would always be thieves and the like in the world. She quietly observed the young men working the forge, chewing slightly on her bottom lip, more curious as to what they were working on than anything. She certainly didnt have the priests way with words.
Sohar whistles quietly on the way to the apothecary, harmonizing with Lyra's morning song.
Chellian recognizes the apprentices working on the early stages of some wagon parts. While each wagon can be a little different, you easily recognize they parts they're making.
The road from Kendra's house into town actually goes right past the smithy. As Sohar ambles past, Coiger recognizes him immediately.
The dwarf woman looks back to the apprentice that she was working with before, Oi! Mara! Hold up! She turns and stumps over and takes over the work, not looking up to you all again. Mara shrugs at you apologetically.
"Apologies, glad fer the praise. I be o' clan Stonepick. Miners, all, but we be fair decent at armor craftin', too. I'm humbled by yer praise, and will let ye know if any work be needin' t' be done."
After hearing the exchange about the monument, and without ability to help with work, Morgrym shrugs when the dwarf smith turns back to her work. He looks at Coiger, "Think we ought t' be on our way t' this monument, then?"
"Apologies, glad fer the praise. I be o' clan Stonepick. Miners, all, but we be fair decent at armor craftin', too. I'm humbled by yer praise, and will let ye know if any work be needin' t' be done."
After hearing the exchange about the monument, and without ability to help with work, Morgrym shrugs when the dwarf smith turns back to her work. He looks at Coiger, "Think we ought t' be on our way t' this monument, then?"
"Aye. I mean yes."
South of town about half a mile, a large hill rises 30 or 40 feet above the surrounding land. It is crowned by the crumbling remains of a walled structure, Harrowstone Prison. The road toward that hill is somewhat grown over, but shows obvious signs of having been a busy thoroughfare in the past and getting only minor traffic today.
Alongside that road, not far past the last home, stands a 12 foot stone statue of a solidly-built, but kind-faced man with a proud moustache. The man is posed in a resolute stance with a 6-pointed star badge prominently displayed on his chest. The base of the statue bears a plaque with the date - 17 Desnus, 4661 - and the names Chief Warden Lyvar Hawkran, Vesorianna Hawkran, and the names of 14 guards.
Of course there's also the matter of the blood splashed all over the place.
Standing near the monument is a tough-looking man in a long duster coat and a wide-brimmed hat. On his chest, a 5-pointed star sheriff's badge glints. 2 other men in similar dusters are poking around the monument appearing to be looking for something. As you approach, the Sheriff walks to meet you. Y'all got some nerve comin' down here. You're my prime suspects, though comin' here bold as you please does cast some doubt on that notion. What is it you folks need down here? An' why you still here anyway? Your Professor is buried.
Sohar whistles quietly on the way to the apothecary, harmonizing with Lyra's morning song.
"Ah, there you are. The apothecary had to wait. We are going to see a dead cat. Have you had breakfast yet?"
Alongside that road, not far past the last home, stands a 12 foot stone statue of a solidly-built, but kind-faced man with a proud moustache. The man is posed in a resolute stance with a 6-pointed star badge prominently displayed on his chest. The base of the statue bears a plaque with the date - 17 Desnus, 4661 - and the names Chief Warden Lyvar Hawkran, Vesorianna Hawkran, and the names of 14 guards.
Of course there's also the matter of the blood splashed all over the place.
Coiger noticeably brightens.
Standing near the monument is a tough-looking man in a long duster coat and a wide-brimmed hat. On his chest, a 5-pointed star sheriff's badge glints. 2 other men in similar dusters are poking around the monument appearing to be looking for something. As you approach, the Sheriff walks to meet you. Y'all got some nerve comin' down here. You're my prime suspects, though comin' here bold as you please does cast some doubt on that notion. What is it you folks need down here? An' why you still here anyway? Your Professor is buried.
"Ah Sheriff, a pleasure" He lies. "I'm Brother Coiger Di Melaiz of Galt" Coiger flashes his holy symbol. "Check with Father Grimburrow if you doubt me. As for our business in town the Professor may be buried, but his parting requests have yet to be finalized. As for why I'm here--novelty mainly, we might be able to help" Then in a whisper with a glance over his shoulder at the rest of the party:
He seems tired of repeating the old tale and instead jumps into investigating.
"Have you identified the victim?"
"Ah, there you are. The apothecary had to wait. We are going to see a dead cat. Have you had breakfast yet?"A horrified look passes over Sohar's face. "I don't eat cat."
"Thank the gods, otherwise you'd spoil the evidence."