Once outside, you hear the call of the raven, which the Old Man tells you is the all-clear signal. Heading back to the Standing Stone, you're amazed at how fast the trail is swallowed back up by the forest behind you.
The horse and cart are where you left them and nothing looks touched. You bid farewell to the old man and head down the road to Fellhallow Town. The road is slightly bumpy and it's nearly night when you arrive at the small walled town in the middle of the deep woods. The gates are tightly closed as you approach, and a deep voice greets you from the walls.
"Hoy! You lot! What's yer business here?" The voice is accompanied by the sound of a crossbow locking into place; you've got weapons aimed at you.
"We are here with a wagonload of supplies for the tavern in Fellhallow from the baker in Red Grove."
From her perch at the horses reigns, Israfel pushes back the hood of her robe and shakes free her hair.
"Please sir, won't you let us in. Night is falling and we have no desire to sleep outside the saftey of your town."
Kers keeps his quiet, but looks to see where combatants might be, and how he might get at them if the need arises.
"Tavern, you say? You got ale?"
Xochtli sighs and answers softly and carefully, "No sir, sorry we only have a shipment of flour. It would have mattered if we tried to bring ale... we all know if the orcs found it on the cart we wouldn't still have it anyway."
"Ha! True enough, lass. Alright, come in then." You hear a barked command and something is removed from the gate inside. The gates swing open and you are allowed in, though the gates are shut tight as soon as you are in.
A tall husky man with a beard calls down from the wall above. "Wolves have been getting bold lately. If we keep the gates open, they charge in. We keep killing 'em, but they keep coming. It's not like they're attacking neither; they seem scared o' somethin'."
Fellhallow is a smaller, more compact town than Red Grove. Townhouses line the only road through town, leading to a square where a common green is located. The tavern is easily seen; it has a bright wooden sign with a mug of ale on it. The town itself is triangular; you just entered through one of the points, there is another gate in the middle of the far side.
There's no one on the streets save the guardsmen, but there is noise and lights on in the tavern. Sounds like a violin is being played.
Israfel encourages the horse to move slowly down the lane towards the inn. "I'll arrange to stable the horse for the night if you will get get us a room"
The stables are located next to the tavern and are currently staffed by a snoring teen boy sleeping in the hay pile.
The tavern is quiet when you walk in, all noise having stopped at your arrival. It's a simple rectangular room, with a bar along the long wall, a fireplace directly across from the bar and tables with crude chairs scattered around. Behind the bar is a doorway to a kitchen and stairs going up. The barkeep is an older man, who looks like he's lifted more beer steins than anything else recently. Perched on the hearth near the fireplace is a young woman of 14, playing a violin. Around the room are scattered three tables with single men sitting at them and a single table with 4 older men sitting at it. The 4 older men look like lumberjacks. The barkeep nods at you as you enter. Two of the single men have the look of younger bachelors. The third single man is wearing a traveler's cloak with the hood up; you can't see much of his face.
"Oy. Have a seat. I'll be wit'cha in a moment, eh."
Fleur looks around and not finding an empty table with seats, opts to stand at least for the time being. She walks up to the bar and leans on it casually and waits for the tender to have a moment to talk.
Xochtli walks over to the young lady playing the violin and leaves a couple copper resting on its case. She always enjoyed listening to music, even those who honestly attempted it so. She then sits near Fleur, closing her eyes as she listens to the music play while she waits.
The bartender waddles over to you and leans in close. "You lot aren't from these parts. What brings you to Fellhallow?"
Kers says in his way, Business and leaves it at that. His attention is on the hooded man, and he watches for danger.
What is your best offering? Kers inquires of the menu. Assuming it is meat, he orders 2 portions.
"Actually," Fleur says, as quietly as possible, "we have a load of flour and greetings for you from the baker in Red Grove." She watches him closely for any reaction, trusting Xochtli to watch for anyone around them listening too closely.
The barkeep smiles at Kers' brusque manner and replies "Today's special is lamb stew. It's been cooking all day; it's a little overdone, but tasty. My wife's a good cook."
Hearing Fleur's comment, he smiles widely. "How's that old so-and-so doing these days? Been wondering when he'd get a delivery done! His flour's just a darn sight better than the local wheat. Too little sun and too much weevil round these parts. Here, bring the sacks round to the back. My wife'll let you in."
"Alright." She slips away from the bar and starts heading outside to bring the wagon around to the back of the inn with the sacks of flour. She pauses a moment at the door to see who is coming with her and who is staying in the inn, but it is a very subtle gesture, not meant to be obvious or demanding in any way.
Without waiting to be asked, Kers assumes it will be his lot to do most of the lifting and joins Fleur without complaint, or even recognition that it was a choice.
Once around back, you find a door with a split top/bottom set up. The top is open, revealing a small stone kitchen dominated by a large oven in the wall. A tired looking matronly woman is puttering about, humming a tune you recognize as a well-known song called the Tinker's Trousers.
She notices you as you put down the first sack and lets out a pleased "Hello! I've been waiting for some decent flour. Oh, let's see what we have. Good, good, bring it in here. That's a lad." Once all the flour is safely stacked in a dry corner of the kitchen, the woman turns to a barrel near the door and dips out two wooden cups of clear cold water.
"Now, I assume since you're bringing flour and you've got the look of the young and restless to you that Jarvis sent you with a bit of extra, hm? Maybe had you stop at the Stone? Oh don't look so surprised! Jarvis is my brother. I know all about his plans and schemes. Now, off the dining room with you. I'll send out some meals and we can talk later after the room's cleared a bit."
Walking over to the snoring boy, Israfel shakes his shoulder to awaken him, I have need of stabaling and feed for my horse, he's walked a long way today and needs tending to.
The boy opens one eye, peers at you, sighs and gets up. "Stabling is a silver per day per horse. Payment's up front. Where's the lovely animal?" he states in a complete monotone, clearly excited by his job.
Israfel smiles, "He's right out front, still hitched to his wagon."
Handing the boy 1 silver and 2 copper, "take care of her for me okay."
After arranging for care of the horse, Israfel heads into the inn and takes a seat at the bar and looks around for somebody to place an order with.
The boy takes the coin and nods his head. "We aim to please." He heads out to get the horse. As you enter the bar you hear him exclaim, "Oy, horse! No biting! No! OW! Stop that!"
Fleur gets up and pokes her head outside to see what's going on with the stableboy and the horse. Not that I know much about horses, but he's never given us any trouble why would he trouble the stableboy unless he's being abused.
Peering outside reveals the stable boy walking a horse that would be complacent, except it keeps bowing its head to nip at the stableboy's arse. Finally he turns, swears and pulls a carrot from his pocket and feeds it to the smug horse. "Normally I wait until after you're groomed you greedy old nag," he mumbles, but affectionately scratches the horse behind one ear before leading the munching mare to the stables.
Once back inside, your meals are served. The lamb stew is as advertised, both slightly overdone but very tasty. It's served with a rough slice of bread, clearly not as well milled as the baker's back in Red Grove, lending credence to their story of needing good flour.
As you eat, the violin player packs up and the room begins to clear, all save the cloaked figure, who seems to be nursing a mug of ale. After a few moments, the inkeeper's wife joins her husband at the bar. "So, ladies and lad, am to understand that my brother has you off on a quest to save the world?" She speaks in a low voice that is both tired and slightly amused.
Fleur glances over at the cloaked figure and whispers to the couple. "Perhaps it would be better to discuss our travels in a more private setting." She rolls her eyes over toward the stranger, but doesn't look directly at him again.
Israfel nods in agreement, "Yea, a public room is not the best place for this discussion. We would not want to let the locals know how much your marking up the price of their bread."
The innkeeper's wife laughs at your diversion and smiles. "Come on down to the cellar. You can help me move some of those bags down!" She leads you behind the bar and to a small hatch in the corner of the kitchen. She opens it, and true to her word, you help her carry five of the bags down the ladder to the cellar. Once down there, she lights a small lamp and closes the hatch.
"This is about as private as we have. So, what's the news?"
This time even Fleur totes some of the load by carrying one of the bags.
Once down below with the door closed, she still speaks softly. "We're headed off to retrieve a book. About 3 weeks travel north of here. Have you any information on what we may face on our journey?
The woman purses her lips. "I do not. I've heard that the roads north are becoming dangerous. You should ask Allain, the hooded man in the dining room. I think he came from that direction. All we hear down here is horror stories of pogroms. They said there's sort of new Legate burning down villages. But there's always rumors, you know. You can never tell what's true. I can tell you this: I think the Shadow is plotting something. We've been seeing a lot more Orcs and Legates coming through town in the last year. They keep to themselves, but something is up."
Suddenly from above comes the muffled sound of a door being thrown open and booted feet stomping into the Inn. You can hear a husky voice shouting, "By Order of the Shadow, HOLD!"
Kers grips his ax tightly, moving quietly between the others and the stairs. His face has turned a shade paler.
Fleur pulls out a pair of darts and palms one in each hand, standing behind Kers, watching the stairs.
From above you hear "Innkeeper! You are under arrest for harboring known fugitives and contributing to the disruption of the peace. Both crimes carry a penalty of death. You and you, seize that one. You lot, search this shack. Let's see what the fat man is hiding."
Israfel starts at the sudden noise above, then grows calm. Drawing the hood forward, she quietly retreats into a dark corner of the basement.
If they come down here, we will need to fight.
Xochtli shakes her head, slowly walking to the door. "...we... we can't let them take him away... you all know what will happen and if it is because of us then there is know way you should be okay with it..." She looks above, seeming hesitant. "We must do something.
"We have a duty to a greater cause, right now. But it is likely they will come down here, perhaps in smaller numbers than their full force and it will be easier to take them on than if we rush upstairs without knowledge of their strength. Not that I like being trapped like a rat down here..."
She turns to the innkeeper's wife. "Is there any other way out of this cellar?"
"They are almost certain to search the basement, the best we can hope for is that only a few come down at a time"
Having said this, Israfel begins muttering under her breath, fingers tracing faintly glowing runes in the air.
The innkeeper's wife looks horrified. "I can't let them take him, he can't go. They'll kill him." She begins to climb the ladder to raise the trap door.
Israfel grabs the hysterical women. We will save him, but not by charging up unprepared
Xochtli turns and glares back, "Look how many of us there are, how many could they possibly bring in the inn? We are prepared, we need to help." She turns and lays a hand gently on the woman's shoulder. "Let us go first."
Kers doubts there is much wisdom in this, but in for a penny in for a pound. So he races up the stairs, bursting the trap open and charging the most dnagerous looking foe.
His face a rictus of hatred he screams, "Time to bleed, Irazadors whores!"
As Gers charges up the stairs, he's met with a strange sight: no enemies. He charges into the dining room to see the innkeeper laughing and clapping a hand to a large man in heavy armor emblazoned with the Shadow's sigil. The man is alone with the innkeeper, though the hooded man is looking distinctly nervous.
"Israzdor's whores?!? What sort of clientele are you serving here, Rufus?" The large man says with a crooked smile.
Fleur runs up the stairs after Kers, resigned to probably die here, and is quite surprised not to see a large armed force waiting for them. "By my uncle's beard, what is this?"
The large man smiles at you, Fleur as he replies, "I don't know much about your uncle's beard, but I'm Captain Hawk. Chief of the guard here in Fell Hallow town. Rufus and me go back quite a ways and I thought I'd have a little fun with him. Didn't expect him to have his own honor guard though!"
The innkeeper's wife rushes in behind you and lets out a noise that sounds between a scream of anger and relief. "William Hawk, you awful man! You just about gave me a heart attack, you lout!"
Israfel climbs up the stairs behind the innkeeper's wife. A joke in very poor taste, one that very nearly caused real problems
Real problems indeed, the last thing I want is to be caught using magic. The Legates would level the town in retribution
"Sorry, ladies! I am thoroughly chastised. And as I'm the law in these parts, I might note that for a lot of travelers you seem to be pretty well armed. Not to mention prone to attacking lawful servants of the Shadow while shouting slights against their natures. Care to tell me why I shouldn't have the lot of you thrown into the stockade?" Suddenly the large man seems a lot less smiley.
"We were just coming to the defense of a friend... or so we thought... apparently he didn't need defending but we couldn't have known that, now could we? If you're truly a friend of his too, you should be glad that we would be willing to defend him."
Xochtli follows up the stairs, she had not pulled a weapon out but she had no issues grabbing what was on hand if it had been needed. "Yes... no reason to be alarmed. We simply did not wish to see the man harmed."
Yes, Kers says, We did not know what sort of trouble was going on, and my father always told me my blasphemous mouth would get me in trouble. I pray today is not that day.
The rage in Kers face is gone and now his look is nearly blank, with his eyes looking down, he lets his ax slide to the floor.
The man stares at you for a long time, just long enough to be truly uncomfortable. Then he breaks into a wide grin. "Damn kids. Always spoutin' off before they know what's what. Sit down kids. I run the security for this town. I make sure things stay quiet enough to not need Orcs or Legates in my town. But if you go spouting off loud like that, someone's bound to talk and my trouble's all for naught. So learn to keep your mouths shut, kids. Now, Rufus, about that drink?" Captain Wolf sits down at the bar and the hooded man relaxes visibly.