Zayla fidgets a bit, but tries not to look too agitated, as the healer looks her over.
Everard and Felix arrive back at the Hero's Tale Inn just as Shema emerges from the kitchens with a tray of soup and tea. "Shema," the sheriff says, "Everard and Felix would like to speak to her about the brigands, if she's up for it."
"I will inquire of her," Shema relies and heads through the door to the guest rooms.
The Healer is very friendly and warm, giving Zayla an almost clean bill of health. She prescribes getting out of bed and some fresh air, but to take it easy for a bit. As she's leaving, Shema arrives with a tray. "Zayla, there are two young men here to see you. They are adventurers here to earn the Hero of Spielburg title, and would like to ask you about your experience, if you would permit it."
"I'm not sure there's much I can tell them, but yeah, sure," Zayla responds. "Show them in."
While Shema goes to show the others in, Zayla begins foraging around her surroundings in search of her belongings.
Her belongings are easily found and intact. Looks like the brigands were interested in the wagons and not in looting individuals.
Shema comes out if the room and motions for Everard and Felix to enter.
Felix steps into the room and begins to introduce himself. "Hello, miss, I'm Felix. This is Everard and..... Hey! Didn't we meet before? Along the road?"
"You know, I'm almost sure we did," Everard agrees, smiling.
Zayla looks confused for a moment before a look of recognition passes her face. "Oh yes! I remember. You're...um...Felix and...um...Everard." She continues to gather her belongings together while she speaks. "Its good to see you again. So, you wanted to talk to me?"
"Uhh, yes. You were attacked by bandits. Tell us about it. We intend to put a stop to them and you could help us." The words didn't come out quite right. He meant something more like, "You could help us put and end to the bandits by telling us of your encounter with them."
"If you feel up to it....?"
"I'd be happy to help!" Zayla responds. "I just got my adventurer certification, and I'm itching to try it out!" She pauses and sits down on the bed as a wave of dizziness passes over her. She puts a hand to her head.
"Of course, my first experience didn't turn out so well. It all happened so fast. I remember being hit by something, and then being carried onto a wagon, but then the wagon lurched and threw me into the snow. I think I hit my head on a rock and that was it. I'm still a bit dizzy, but I should be okay soon. How do you want to start?"
"Did you hear anything, see anything?" Everard suggests. "Anything distinctive about the Brigands that we might use to track them to their lair, any names mentioned, things like that?"
Zayla doesn't remember any distinctive names or places mentioned. She does recall one peculiarity: there was a short man in a cloak who giggled a lot once the ambush was sprung. He appeared to cast some sort of spell, though Zayla wasn't familiar with it. The result was the flash and bang that startled the horses, and as she passed out, her last memory is an acrid burning smell, like sulfur.
Zayla thinks for a moment. "Only one thing. There was a short man in a cloak. He was a spellcaster, I think. He was the one that startled the horse that lurched the wagon. He caused some sort of flash and bang. I remember him giggling the whole time. That's about it." She shrugs. "Wish I could say more."
After a brief pause, she suddenly says, "Oh! There was a burning smell. Like sulphur! That was probably from the spell he cast."
After Zayla tells you (and the sheriff) what she remembers, the three adventurers once again find themselves on the streets of Spielburg, you estimate another hour or so before what shops are open close up for the day.
Destination? Adventurer's guild hall? Back to Kaspar's? Hit the tavern for a drink?
Zayla initially tries to skip along as they wander the streets, but a throbbing in her head puts a quick stop to that. "So, what's our plan?" she asks the others. "How do we find and deal with these brigands?"
"Well, right now we're exploring town, getting to know the people and the resources at our disposal. Would you care to join us in a walk on the north side of town?" Everard asks.
A gentle, cool rain begins to fall as you head north, and while it is raining down in the valley, you can bet new snow is falling up in the pass. Hilde, the young centaur filly who tends the market stand gives Everard a warm smile as you pass, even as she shoots Felix a sulky pout. The shifty man with the dagger is no longer here (he was also gone when you came out of Kaspar's with the sheriff earlier).
Turning left, the street takes you west. You pass through an area of fancier townhouses, interspersed with shops, most closed. Near the end, you spy a baker's and butcher's side by side, both with notes on the door that read, "Gone Fishing".
Just before the abandoned warehouse at the end of the street is the Aces and Eights tavern, a seedy, run-down watering hole. A narrow alley (the only alley you can recall seeing in Spielburg) runs between the tavern and the bakery. Smells of stale beer and other unpleasant things wafts out of the alleyway. You also hear rustling, and a man's voice calls out, "Alms? Alms for the poor?"
"Yeah, sure," Everard says. "Come out, though? I've got a piece of silver for you."
A man, clearly a beggar, stumbles out of the alley, holding a wooden bowl. He seems to be the source of about half of the smells.
As Everard plunks his coin into the bowl, the beggar says, "Thanks. You don't know how hard it is to get coin with those brigands around."
"Here ya go," Everard says, giving the man a silver coin and a smile. "Name's Everard Katzenjammer. What's yours, mister?"
"My name's Sam."
"I suppose the brigands are the reason there are so few people around," Zayla observes. She holds out a hand to Sam. "I'm Zayla by the way, and that one over there is Felix. We're going to put a stop to the brigands."
"Well, I'm sure lots of folks would be happy to have the brigands gone, but this town's been dying since long before the brigands became anything more than a minor nuisance."
Sam peers at the hand eagerly, but seeing it empty, he contents himself with scratching his neck and casually rattling his bowl.
Zayla slowly and somewhat self-consciously lowers her hand. "Sorry, I, uh, don't really have anything to give you," she says sheepishly. "So, uh, if the brigands aren't responsible for everyone leaving, what is?"
Felix drops a couple of silver into the bowl. One for himself and one for Zayla. "Yeah. You seem like a fellow that knows stuff. Sees things. Hears things. What can you tell us?"
"Yeah, I do see things and hear things, but I don't know why all the stuff's been happening. It started about twenty years ago when a whole bunch of the castle guard got killed in some big battle. Then, some goblin king invaded the iron mines out west, putting all the miners out of work. Then, crops started failing. Finally, the brigands got organized a few years ago, but by then, half the people had already left town. Last year, there weren't enough apples for them to have the Spielburg Cider Festival, and Mr. Amblin left town. He was the main cider guy: Amblin Entertainment from Spielburg."
"Well, that's more than we knew already," Everard says in a pleasant tone. "Thanks for the information, Sam! So, what's your story? What brought you here?"
"There used to be good prospects here. Miners would spend weeks at the mines before coming to town to spend their pay, and they liked to show off to the ladies by pretending to be generous. The same for tourists at the Cider Festival, and adventurers looking to hunt monsters. Now things are sparse. There's honest work to be had at the baron's castle, mucking out stables, but you won't get rich, and begging is my calling. I hope to make enough to take me to Silmaria. Begging is good there, I hear."
"Silmaria?" Everard repeats.
The Warrior rummages in his pocket, looking for his notice of graduation from the Famous Adventurer's Postal Course, tucked in its envelope. He checks the return address and a big, BIG, silly grin forms on his face.
"Oh, we have got to go there once we've settled things here in Spielburg with the Brigands and the Goblin king and the Baron's son and whatever else we can find!" he tells Felix and Zayla. "Maybe Sam can travel with us when we go."
Everard shakes himself, coming back to reality.
"So, Sam. How about this town? What can you tell us about the village of Spielburg?"
"Spielburg? It's a nice enough town. Most folks are friendly enough to a beggar not to cause me problems. There are some thieves around, but they don't usually bother me: got nothing to steal."
"The town itself is protected by some kinda magic-don't ask, I don't know anything about that stuff-that makes it impossible to do excessive violence within the town walls, and everything glows at night. Used to be, a person could sleep in the street all night in perfect safety. There's something off with this alley, though. It's always dark, and feels colder than the rest of town."
"Then I hope you don't sleep here?" Everard asks.
"Well. We should probably move on. Would you mind if we visit again?"
"Course not. I love a repeat customer. A word of warning to you though: don't drink the Dragon's Breath."
Sam shuffles back into his alley. "Alms? Alms for the poor?"
Felix watches him go. "Now if that guy says not to drink something, I'm inclined to believe him. Ok. What's our next destination?"
"I'm curious about this alley," Zayla says, taking a couple steps towards it. "The whole city is protected by some sort of magic and glows at night, but the alley works differently? I mean, he might just be imagining that it's colder and darker kind of makes sense as it's an alley, but I'm curious nevertheless. And have either of you actually seen another alley in this town? That's kind of weird too."
All the buildings touch, or are constructed townhouse-style.
"Maybe it's like a pressure valve on a dam?" Everard suggests. "A spell big enough to light a whole town and affect how everyone inside it acts.... That sounds like it might cause a bit of strain. Got to let the pressure off somehow."
Zayla shrugs. "That's a possibility," she says after pondering a moment. "I"m still kind of new with magic, so I'm not really sure how you'd go about putting a spell on an entire town. Shall we check out the alley?"
Braving the alleyway's odours, you enter a dimly-lit passageway. Barrels line the left side, smelling of stale beer and Troll's Sweat. Sam is ensconced in his spot near the alley mouth. The alley does feel ominous, colder than the rest of town.
"Let's get out of here," Everard says. "This place gives me the heebies. That back wall, right there, looks like someone's been using it for target practice; don't want to be in here if they come back."
"Well, I admit it does feel colder in here, but is it really that bad?" Zayla says. "I mean, Sam seems to get by okay in here." She looks over to the wall Everard is indicating.
"He doesn't have anything people want to nick," Everard says. "We wear nicer clothes than he does. I'm not keen to take a knife in my back."
Felix inspects the wall a bit but follows behind the other two out of the alley.
Felix figures that the chunks in the wall look very much like dagger cuts.
Back out in the street, you see that dusk is approaching.
She looks over to the wall Everard is indicating.
Zayla follows out of the alley, still going on about the alley. "But wouldn't Sam have seen something like that happen? He never said anything about it. And that spell on the city is supposed to stop violence. Though I suppose if it's weaker in that alley for some reason, that could explain the cold."
She sighs and shrugs. "Oh well. Shall we go to the tavern and not try the dragon's breath?"
"I didn't see any blood on the board. That suggests that someone was practicing without delivering violence upon another."
"I suppose a drink before bed would be alright."