Zarta stands stock-still and silent, her face pale. Finally, she manages to croak out, "Let...let me see those papers, Master Logos," as she reaches to take them from Lazarus. Her eyes flicker rapidly as she reads over the documents, the lascivious facade momentarily gone and a look of simple awe on her face.
"I...this is unexpected, unexpected indeed," Zarta says as she finishes her reading and looks up at the group. "Thank you, agents, thank you for bringing this to light," she continues, quite earnestly. "Of course my ability to claim my heritage and my ancestral lands is stymied as long as House Thrune holds power in Cheliax, but...well. I confess I will need some time to process this information..." her voice trails off and she barely seems to acknowledge Lazarus as he kisses the back of her hand, offering only a small nod.
There's a brief but awkward silence that's finally broken by Hamshanks. "Well! It seems that your mission was productive in more ways than one, wasn't it? Seems to me you all deserve a rest before you head out on your next assignment - why not go and enjoy the city while you're here? Almas is quite the spirited place and there's plenty to do and see. In the meantime, I'll see what I can do about your next assignment..."
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Meredith watches the Paracountess wander off, like she's seen a ghost. "Is she going to be alright? Normally she's a bit more... unflappable." Meredith rolls her hand as she grasps for the right word.
Once she's dismissed, she heads to a smith and works on enchanting her weapons. She's prefer the longspear, but cold iron is notoriously difficult to enchant. Even the basic enchantment is out of her price range. She hands the smith her favorite silvered mace and heads off to wander around the city.
Denair follows closely. "So is she... is she like a queen or something? But she's lost? Like you?" She sticks her tongue out.
"Kind of. She seems a bit lost though. It must be a lot to absorb." Meredith mumbles, unsure of her own future.
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Cheliax is and shall always be an accursed pit!
Jan slaps Lazarus hard on the back, using his full-Ulfen strength, just to make a point, "Why all the sullen faces? We have fought, we have won and we live to fight another day..."
"Nyta, Drekka, eda Elska Lif!"
Already knowing the answer, Jan asks Lazarus the question anyway, both out of curiosity and an attempt to embarrass the Samsaran, "So, will you come with me? We will eat, we will drink and we will even try to find you a good woman! Maybe not that good, but good enough and not too expensive!"
Regardless of Lazarus' reaction, Jan's laughter bellows for all to hear throughout the building.
Either with or without his little blue friend, Jan spends 2-3 days eating, drinking and carousing as only an Ulfen can...or should.
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Lazarus hears a knock at the door, and careful not to disturb his sleeping familiar, he pulls on a black-and-white, pin-striped silk robe, ties off the belt, and answers the knock.
"Oh, good morning, Dalen Stonestep. Please come in."
A cute little white bunny peeks its head out from under the bed, big floppy ears drooping over bright, shining red eyes. *Who the hell is it? Who the BLEEP knocks on our BLEEPING door at the break of BLEEPING dawn!*
The samsaran coughs to cover his embarrassment and offers the ranger a comfortable chair. He grabs a pot of coffee from the hearth. "From Jalmeray. It's a bit strong."
Lazarus pours two espresso cups and joins her at the table, pushing aside his spell book and a few other esoteric tomes. "What brings you to my doorstep this fine morning, Dalen?"
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Dalen curls up in the chair, almost being swallowed by it. As she takes the coffee, she asks, "any chance for some cream and sugar?"
She ponders Lazarus' question for a moment before looking him square in the eyes.
"I've never been religious, but... But I got to thinking on the way back about it. Can... can you tell me about the gods, Lazarus? Can you help me figure out if I'm supposed to follow one of them and which one to follow?"
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As the group is dismissed to wander the city and get into lots of trouble, Frankie instead takes Meredith's hand and wanders off for a calm afternoon of shopping and relaxation. "We should get some waffles! I'd love some waffles, with cream and syrup.. maybe ONE strawberry." Frankie seems to need a day off to recoop.
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"Sure thing, Frankie. We'll go find a fruit store." Meredith leads the boy along, as Denair bounces along.
Well, here's my two children. A tree-fox hybrid and the street urchin. I hope Candee's doing alright. Meredith suddenly bursts into laughter.
"Sorry Frankie. I'm just thinking about the candy shop you raided. You have a big, sweet appetite. But you worked really hard, so you deserve to eat well."
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"Ah," Lazaras sighs, fetching cream and sugar for his guest. "A great philosopher once addressed similar questions about the divine. I've studied his work, and I have found comfort in his arguments for the existence of the gods."
The samsaran student of philosophy sits back down at the table and rubs his slender blue hands together, eager to have found a willing and receptive listener. "I think the finite human mind cannot know what the gods are directly, therefore the gods' existence is not self-evident to us. So instead, the proposition that the gods exist must be 'demonstrated' from the gods effects, which are more known to us."
"In the world, we can see that at least some things are changing. Whatever is changing is being changed by something else. If that by which it is changing is itself changed, then it too is being changed by something else. But this chain cannot be infinitely long, so there must be something that causes change without itself changing. This is what I understand to be the gods."
"In the world, we can see that things are caused. But it is not possible for something to be the cause of itself, because this would entail that it exists prior to itself, which is a contradiction. If that by which it is caused is itself caused, then it too must have a cause. But this cannot be an infinitely long chain, so, there must be a cause which is not itself caused by anything further. This is what I understand to be the gods."
"In the world we see things that are possible to be and possible not to be. In other words, perishable things. But if everything were contingent, and thus capable of going out of existence, then, given infinite time, this possibility would be realized and nothing would exist now. But things clearly do exist now. Therefore, there must be something that is imperishable: a necessary being. This is what I understand to be the gods."
"We see things in the world that vary in degrees of goodness, truth, nobility, and so on. For example, sick animals and healthy animals, and well-drawn circles as well as poorly drawn ones. But judging something as being "more" or "less" implies some standard against which it is being judged. Therefore, there is something which is goodness itself, and this is what I understand to be the gods."
"We see various non-intelligent objects in the world behaving in regular ways. This cannot be due to chance, since then they would not behave with predictable results. So their behavior must be set. But it cannot be set by themselves since they are non-intelligent and have no notion of how to set behavior. Therefore, their behavior must be set by something else, and by implication something that must be intelligent. This is what I understand to be the gods."
The wizard-priest looks at Dalen with his all-white eyes, blue face earnest. "These are best described as arguments and not as proofs in a mathematical sense. That distinction does not make them any more or less convincing, in my judgment."
Lazarus rises from his seat and strides over to a tall bookcase. He traces a long blue finger over the many embossed leather bindings, until he finds the tome he's looking for. He pulls it from the shelf, blows away some dust, and hands it to Dalen.
"Rangers are often followers of Gozreh, the deity of nature, or Erastil 'Old Deadeye', the god of hunting and trade. Cayden Cailean, with his uncivilized manner and love of adventure is also a frequent patron of your calling. The freedom afforded to a ranger also meshes well with the philosophy of Desna, my own patroness."
"I hope my long-winded discourse hasn't turned you into an atheist," Lazarus smiles, dark blue lips framing perfect, white teeth, "Consider these, and others, and follow your heart--and your own mind. Faith and reason are the foundation of any enduring worship."
The samsaran sips his coffee and grimaces. It's gone cold.
Still hiding under the bed, Sid mutters a few of his favorite expletives. *Next you'll be explaining why BLEEPING evil exists in the BLEEPING world! Give the lady a break, will you!*
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Brayden disappears for a few days. The voice in his head continues to call on him, now more loudly than it did just a few days ago. He can't quite decipher what it means, only that it relates to his distant past. He makes a quick journey to Magnimar if for no other reason than a hunch.
At the temple of Iomedae there, he asks about expeditions out to caves and crypts over the past few years, and any casualties reported. A priest provides him with a list, but that's all it is to him - a list.
Defeated, Brayden purchases visits a souvenior shop and picks up a few keychains and shot glasses, and sets sail back for Absalom.
If you're so damned stubborn on figuring it out, visit the town that celebrates their youth by restoring the eternal flame.
The blue-skinned warpriest shrugs off the suggestion - he's too annoyed at this point - and returns to Grand Lodge, souveniors in hand. "I'm back! The seas were nice, and I brought some goodies. The local specialty is Magnimarian maple toffee. A little tough on the molars, though, so be gentle!" He doles out the candy to Frankie and Meredith. "Not sure I know of any dentists around here..."
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By the time Lazarus is done, Dalen does look like she's been hit between the eyes.
"No, no, you haven't I just..." she shakes her head, and shrugs. "Sorry, I haven't, but I guess I don't know enough about the gods to be able to know which one I should follow. When we were on that last assignment, I– I dunno– I felt something when I was running through the city or embarrassing those that would enslave others. I was happy, joyful. I felt like I'd done something to chip away at their hold on others even if it was just leaving them in an embarrassing predicament or standing in a crowd with nothing but their underwear on. Maybe that's childish of me, but it was fun."
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While Brayden is distracted with doling out candy to his two candy-hungry friends, he suddenly hears a soft, feminine *cough* from somewhere behind him. Turning around, perhaps thinking that the noise is from another agent hoping for a piece of candy as well, Brayden instead sees a familiar face - the young clerk that he'd purposely bumped into in the offices in Khari all those days and weeks ago and invited to dinner. A dinner at the Wicked Fork that regretfully never came to pass when the group was later forced to flee Corentyn in the dead of night.
"Um...hi," she smiles shyly, waving her hand in greeting. "You're a really hard fellow to track down, you know? Rumor around home was that you were actually a Pathfinder...so when I didn't find you or your friends in Corentyn, well..."
The woman laughs again, blushing with embarrassment. "I know I'd just met you and it was crazy, but...here I am. Would you still like to get dinner...maybe?"
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At the sudden appearance of the clerk, Brayden drops the bag of candy, releasing a shower of toffee all over the ground.
The samsaran turns, the bright shade of red on his face even more apparent when contrasted against his blue skin. "Oh, my. To go through the effort of tracking me down just to get dinner... You're even sweeter than Magnimarian maple toffee!" He laughs bashfully.
Then he links arms with the clerk and urges her off. "Dinner it is. Let's be off, before my next assignment begins. Say, I didn't get your name. I'm Brayden. How about spiced lobster from the west coast? You see, I just got back from the sea, and ..." The duo disappear in a direction towards the Foreign Quarter.
Not bad. Don't screw it up, now.
The sun shines brightly and the remnants of the early morning mist swirl around your ankles as you make your way along the well-traveled road towards the bustling town that lies just beyond the Finadar Forest in which you find yourselves. As you walk along, several of you reflect on just how far the wilds of Iobaria are from devil-bound Cheliax, a place that you're perfectly happy to be shut of after your previous and lengthy mission within its borders. In fact, the job described in the note that Venture-Captain Dennel Hamshanks passed along to you some weeks back seemed just the right change of pace from hair-raising prison breaks and delving into forgotten ruins. Now, as you emerge from the forest and approach the outer edges of the wood-and-stone city-state of Mishkar, you’re curious to see just what this wild country has in store for you.
Most of you already know each other; in fact, all of you know each other and have worked together on several missions before. Well, except for one. Your newest face, agent Yorad Cinderhunter, is an unknown quantity though he was assigned to your team at the recommendation of Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng after having taken care of some shady business for him recently in Kaer Maga. Unfortunately, you've not had much time for everyone to get acquainted during the trip from Absalom into Iobaria but perhaps now is a good a time as any?
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Yorad shakes his head at his misfortune here, wondering who he had pissed off this time.
After taking care of the Lodge business I was looking forward to some R and R in Absalom, seems like that one priestess liked to spend some time with me but...Noooo, gotta meet a bunch of agents sailing on the seas to some Gods-forsaken town...why did I sign up for this again??
Fingering his newly acquired healing wand he imagined sliding the tip of it inside Dreng where the sun doesn't shine.
Get this wand, it will keep you alive they say...can't even use the damned thing! This deal's getting worse all the time...
Sliding the wand away in his belt he turns to face the fellow agents who are now stuck with him. He is no dandy here dressed slovenly, with disheveled clothing, but his eyes look over the other Pathfinders already assembled. His messy blonde hair hangs over his ears though his dark hazel eyes miss nothing. He is dressed simply, wearing studded leather and is well armed with many small blades, a dagger along with a brace of knives...
"Name is Yorad, and it looks like we are teammates now," he announces bluntly, "Looks like we will get along just fine, right?"
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"Hi Yorad." Meredith grins, tries to be polite. "That's Frankie- he's kind of a mascot- and this is Denair. She and I go way back."
The fox-tree thing waves a tree branch at Yorad to greet him, and then resumes her hide-and-seek game with Frankie.
Meredith has enjoyed the trek, frankly. Anything to get away from Chileax. The outside air is always been pleasant, and reminds her of herding the various plants and animals whom she kept safe- wait, no. Hey days as a simple farmer, with the Great Oak in the middle of the village, standing watch.
Who would have thought that Oak would come to life and spend her days playing games with children.
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"Yorad. Now there's a name I haven't heard before," Brayden smiles, offering a handshake. The samsaran was happy to be out of Cheliax, truly. Mostly. Maybe? He couldn't get the night he'd spent with the lovely clerk from Corentyn out of his head, though he wasn't sure if he was happy to have had the experience, or sad that it ended so prematurely.
The voice in his head continued like a grating itch that couldn't be scratched. He'd gotten a little closer to figuring out what, or who, it was, but piecing together it was the paladin he used to be in his previous life was far beyond anything he'd dreamed.
"Iobaria has a nice ring to it. Say, Yorad, you look well-traveled. Perhaps you might know something about this Farheaven Clan?"
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"Pleasure ta meetcha all!", Yorad returns the handshake with a firm grip, and tips his hat in greetings to the...well, not-so-odd menagerie he found himself traveling with.
No worse than some I have seen!
The what again...? Farhaven Clan? Ohhh Farheaven!" Yorad shakes his head, "Sorry never heard of 'em. Apparently if you have mud all over yer clothes people think yer a genius...or something like that." He shrugs, "Guess we'll find out right?"
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Frankie continues to race around trying to find and catch Denair, after a few minutes of fruitless searching and spotting this new guy, Frankie stops for a breather and a slug off his 'waterskin'. "Hey there, I'm Frankie! Who're you?" He reaches out a hand for a proper handshake.
Frankie has mostly neatly combed blonde hair, cut nicely in a fine little boy cut, with just a bit of sweat starting to muss up his bangs. He looks to be about 10 years old with a never ending smile and genuine curiosity.
When the others start talking about Farheaven and their destination Frankie pipes up, digging out a small metal from his pocket and swinging it around for all to see "Oh I've been up here somewheres! They made me like an official Mendev crusader or something! It was real cool!"
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"Greetings, Yorad Cinderhunter. Welcome to the team,"[b] Lazarus greets the newcomer. [b]"My name is Lazarus Logos, priest of Desna and wizard of modest skill."
The samsaran examines the note from Venture-Captain Jorsal of Lauterbury. So many names of people, places, and events. Some sound familiar. The ecclesitheurge enters his memory palace, seeking repositories of knowledge, filed away during his countless past lives.
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Lazarus knows that Mishkar, the town that you're headed to, is unusual for a human community in Iobaria because it's not built from the scavenged remains of cyclopean ruins. Originally established in 809 AR as a guard post against threats from the Grenalf Plateau, it was abandoned by Iobaria around 4607 AR, only to be re-established by Varisian and Taldan settlers around 4659 AR. Since then, the town has since become a largely self-sufficient city-state with a large agricultural and trade base. The people of Mishkar greatly value their independence and have remained unaffiliated with Iobaria's various factions, though they have forged an occasional alliance with centaur tribes against goblin hordes from the highlands.
As far as the Farheaven clan itself is concerned, not much is known. When the Worldwound opened, tearing apart Sarkoris with a flood of demons, thousands of Sarkorian refugees sought shelter in nearby lands. Those who found no solace with their neighbors traveled far to the east, into the wilds of Iobaria. Among these was the Farheaven clan, which settled in the forests and faded into obscurity over the past century.
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Dalen is the happiest any of the others have seen her. She's in her element helping to guide the group thought the forests and moors of Iobaria almost as easily as she would have back in the Borderwood in Taldor.
"It's a nice change of pace. Many in Taldor would assume the mud to mean you were an idiot," Dalen says as she falls back to walk beside the others, "Dalen Stonestep. It's nice to meet ya, Yorad."
Dalen is dressed like an experienced woodswoman with a sword and bow at her back. In her right hand she uses a sturdy quarterstaff as a walking stick. Her blue eyes are bright now and her long, brunette hair is in a thick braid.
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After his greeting Frankie quickly goes back to racing around the forest with Denair, taking his turn to hide in the underbrush and leaves this time. "Close your eyes Denair, no cheating! No one likes a cheat!" He races off and dives into a patch of ferns before muffling his giggle as best he can. She'll never see me in here! He thinks to himself.
Denair sniffs Yorad for the heck of it before Frankie runs off.
"I think I found you... here!"
"Why would I cheat at this? It's fun!" Denair closes her eyes, waits and starts looking again.
"Oh, I see you!"
It's so fun playing with Frankie! Denair sniffs.
"Uh, where did you go?"
By the time proper introductions are made and Denair and Frankie grow tired of their game, you've finally arrived at your destination. The town of Mishkar sits atop a hill, surrounded by walls that are old but well maintained. People, mostly humans, stream in and out of the gates, watched over by sharp-eyed guards. Past the gate is a bustling market, beyond which is a town of low wooden and stone buildings. Most of the construction looks fairly new and of human design, with no sign of the cyclops remnants upon which most Iobarian settlements are built. In fact, the architectural style is a mixture of Varisian and Taldan, the influence of the Varisian and Taldan settlers that re-established the former guard post and built it into a center of trade and agriculture.
With traders and other merchants often visting Mishkar to ply their wares, the local citizenry takes little notice of you as you make your way through the city gates. Although the note bade you locate Nelket, and she was apparently told to expect you, there was precious little else offered besides the name - which means that you’ll likely have to ask around town in order to track her down.
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You learn that Nelket manages, but does not own, a small tavern called the Jolly Hag and can usually be found there.
Nelket is well liked in Mishkar, but she is known to be quite guarded and has few real connections with people in town.
Nelket is said to have been some kind of priestess before she came to Mishkar.
Nelket grew up in the Norinor Forest but came to Mishkar at a young age after some kind of tragedy.
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Denair sniffs Yorad for the heck of it before Frankie runs off.
Yorad nearly reaches for his dagger, before settling for just raising his eyebrows as high as they go. "Yer friend always this...nosy? I did take a bath...before I sailed out here, so been a couple of weeks I guess."
When he arrives in town Yorad grumbles irritably under his breath about the lack of information forthcoming.
"What a way to run a shipyard!"
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Frankie revels in his hide and seek victory "Looks like I DO win again! I think we've gotta go, game over!" He runs over and gives Denair a hug before racing off into town with the others (in the lead of course!) "Race ya!" He hollers as he heads for the loudest, and most interesting place he can see: The Market.
The young boy quickly scans the crowd and locates his target: an old woman behind a stall. Grandma's could never resist his natural charms and most importantly, they almost always carried around sweets to share! "Hi there Miss, would you happen to know where I could find Nelket? My Mom asked me to find her and bring her some of the best candy I could find at the market, but she didn't give me any money. Can you help me?" He bats the 'lashes on those little brown eyes, a look of desperation crosses his baby face.
"Oh my! Aren't you the cutest! You sit right there and lets see what I've got here for you!" A giant purse from what must have been last century's largest yard sale makes an appearance from under the booth and from it the sugary delights begin to appear.
It doesn't take long for the information to flow like wet in a rainstorm. "Nelket manages, but does not own, a small tavern called the Jolly Hag and works there most of the time? Wow, sounds like a good place to start!" He repeats through a mouthful of cookies.
Frankie hops up on a water barrel as Nadine continues to chat with him, feeding cookies into his cookie shute like a slot machine. "Nelket is well liked in Mishkar, but she is known to be quite guarded and has few real connections with people in town." The woman prattles on and on as Frankie washes down the pumpkin, chocolate chip cookies with a well placed glass of milk.
Frankie happily accepts a slice of some sort of pie, who was he to be rude and not? As the woman continues on in her gossip "Nelket is said to have been some kind of priestess before she came to Mishkar." Frankie swallows a bit hard once he learns the pie is actually mincemeat.. and a bit heavy on the meat for his taste.
"Gooddd.... real gooood..." He stammers, a nervous look on his face starting to take hold as his belly is full yet the food doesn't stop coming. "Nelket grew up in the Norinor Forest but came to Mishkar at a young age after some kind of tragedy." Nadine covers her face as she relays the last bit of pertinent information to Frankie. Clearly distraught she pulls a hanky from her boosum and honks loudly. "You've got some pie on your chin there, hold on one second..." As she reaches over with the freshly blown hankie, a look of abject terror crosses his face. HELP!
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Yorad shakes head slightly at the unorthodox way the 'child' extracts the information, yet is duly impressed anyway.
If I had a face 'n eyes like those, I could worm all the secrets in Kaer Maga fer myself!
Figuring the kid needed a helping hand here he saunters over casually to the Market stall, waving at Frankie. "There you are! Been looking for you, don't you know dinner is waiting for you?"
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Yorad nearly reaches for his dagger, before settling for just raising his eyebrows as high as they go. "Yer friend always this...nosy? I did take a bath...before I sailed out here, so been a couple of weeks I guess."
"Yeah. She was bonded to a tree before she bonded to me, so she's very... curious." Meredith seems resigned. "At least Frankie keeps her entertained."
Meredith puts on her nice face as she converses with people in town.
But people keep asking about the strange roses in her hair, to an annoying degree. Her temper flares and she proceeds to withdraw herself, unable to get any information.
Luckily Frankie's good with questioning.
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Dalen is quite content to leave Frankie to his fate, but luckily for his stomach, Yorad intervenes. Meredith, she sees, probably does need some help.
"You alright there? I think you just sent that last one walking away with his head in hand," she gestures to the young man who'd asked where Meredith had gotten the roses that were causing her to be an object of curiosity for the locals.
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These people are hard to understand... be nice they keep telling me... they're afraid you, they keeping telling me.
"What do you know? Tell me!"
"That guy Nek, Nela, Neku...whatever... owns a tavern called the Happy Hag or something like that. Sounds like a good place to go get a drink...Just ask the kid, people seem like they are unable to keep their yaps shut whenever he starts gabbing at them."
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Meredith's frowning, lost in her own thoughts as Dalen approaches.
"As long as Denair's out, the roses pop out of my hair." Meredith points at the four 4 rosebuds arranged across the top of her head. "Denair has the same arrangement- I guess it's a sign of our bond."
"Some people think it's a magic trick. Some people try to pluck it out of my hair." She very gently tugs on one of the roses before flinching. "It's part of me, like trying to rip off a fingernail. When I was a slave, that was my punishment. That, or watching Denair suffer..." Meredith trails off.
"It was one rose when I joined the Pathfinder Society and now it's up to four. I drink more water than I've ever had before, and I eat maybe half as much. What the hell is going on with me?" Meredith takes her gloves off and looks at her hands. Nothing weird with them. "Every time someone asks about these roses I need to push these thoughts away and put on a smile. But sometimes it's so damn frustrating."
She shrugs. "Thanks for listening, Dalen. It looks like Frankie's going to have another stomach ache with all the candy he's getting- I'll go stop him." She stands up, puts her gloves on and puts her smile back on.
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Lazarus wanders the marketplace, making polite inquiries in conversations with a handful of locals. He returns to his companions and shares what he learned, much of it confirming what the others had managed to pick up. "Nelket manages, but doesn't own, a small tavern called the Jolly Hag and can usually be found there. Nelket's well liked in Mishkar, but she's known to be quite guarded and has few real connections with people in town. She's said to have been some kind of priestess before she came to Mishkar."
The samsaran's blue ears perk up, when Frankie adds something new. Nelket grew up in the Norinor Forest but came to Mishkar at a young age after some kind of tragedy.
Lazarus recalls that the Norinor Forest, is a large, sheltered forest in southern Iobaria that borders the Hills of Nomen and Syrzemyan Highlands. The dangers and riches of the forest are well known as Norinor plays home to more human settlements and "hideholds" than any other forest within Iobaria. However many of these settlers are rugged individualists pursuing their own ends, with towns like Volod along the Noyrus River the exception rather than the rule.
He also knows that there is no cohesive community within Norinor, many of its inhabitants only know those who live within a few miles of their homesteads, unless they have a reason to travel. While these folk do not readily come to each others' defenses, they do warn their fellows when outsiders, such as press gangs from Kridorn, enter the woods.
However, he's not heard of any sort of noteworthy tragedies happening within the forest recently or even within the last half-century. It sounds as though you might have to ask Nelket herself as to what happened - good thing you've found plenty of information to work with on tracking her down!
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Frankie's eyes go wide, blinking a few times when Yorad comes to his rescue "YES! It IS dinner time, I've gotta go Ma'am. Great talking with you! BYE!" He quickly extricates himself from the situation, narrowly avoiding the used hanky. He rushes off with Yorad and the others towards the Jolly Hag, where ever that may be.
That was close, but man, I don't think I can eat a bite of dinner... He wipes his face off on his sleeve and groans at bit at his stuffed stomach as he marches on.
Deciding to get down to business before Frankie can make himself sick with candy, you head off towards the The Jolly Hag - which it turns out is fairly easy to find as the faded but legible sign featuring a smiling green hag is prominently displayed above the tavern's door. However, as you go to open the door you find it locked.
"Eh, newcomers in town?" asks an old man passing by. "The Jolly Hag don't open 'til early afternoon, ya know! But maybe Nelket'd take pity on ya if you knock an' ask real nice!"
Chortling as though he'd made an exceptionally witty joke, he continues on his way down the street.
Denair climbs right up the building and starts sneaking around, trying to peek into the bar and see if anyone's inside.
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Stepping up next to Meredith, Lazarus raps on the door as well.
"Mizz Nelket, we have journeyed a great distance to meet you. We would learn from you about the Farheaven Clan and what befell its people. I am Lazarus Logos, priest of Desna, the Song of Spheres, and these fine folk are my friends. May we speak?"