Thank you sir, it looks like the wine is quite popular with the other travelers so I will follow their lead, and I will gladly have a portion of the roast chicken.
While he waits, Bose will turn his back to the bar and survey the room. Turning back to 'focus' on his meal when it is delivered.
Bose: The wine is brought in a small flask with a small glass to pour it into. Later, a hearty meal of roast chicken, perhaps a bit over-seasoned, with a heaping helping of vegetables arrives for your culinary delight. While it wouldn't draw rave reviews from a food critic, it certainly holds its own considering it's probably the only offering in town.
Being wary of those around still, as people come in and out, I will be wary.
Before the crowd gathers, he will take the recommended chicken with the wine.
"Jaonos, it's nice to make your acquaintance. What brings you to the local town?"
A table in the corner includes at least one dwarf from the accent. He gets progressively louder as the night goes on. At one point, he starts to shout something about "the treasure" but his friends hush him...
Locals glance over, shaking their heads, and return to their meals or drinks and conversation.
To Lalandar, keeping his voice low, Jaonos replies after some time lost in thought. ”Vague feelings of unease. In my prayers, I feel I am needed. Exactly where or why, I cannot say, but I grow closer with each day’s travel. And you? Why are you here?”
"I actually am returning here after a misadventure once. We were up at the keep because of the darkness we sensed and we saved some kids. Now, I feel drawn back... and I've been guided back."
There are six sitting at the table where the outburst occurred. Two dwarves with hair black as coal, one elf with unusually-shaped ears, and three with their backs to you that appear to be human. They appear to be deep in conversation.
The elven cleric looks at his dining companion quizzically. "I'm not sure I understand, but perhaps the Father of Elves has brought us here to this place at this time for a purpose. Perhaps he intends that I join you. What is it you intend to do?"
"That is yet to be seen. My sister was drawn back home but I've been guided back. I know not where we are headed but something draws me farther, towards that forest again."
Hello friend, I would gladly trade a taste of my wine for a seat at your table. It has been a long trek and feet would welcome a rest
Bose detects no deception in the other elf's demeanor or actions.
Your new friend makes small talk about the weather and the roads today - it being obvious that you brought some road dust in with you - while waiting for the barkeep to bring two glasses of what turns out to be a much finer vintage. "I found one bottle and saw no reason to keep it anywhere but here where I would drink it. Please, enjoy a truly fine wine on me."
He sips and savors the beverage, taking small smells of it and rolling it around his palate before swallowing. He seem content not to say anything at all while this process has his full attention. When you taste it, you find it to be so exceptionally light that it's almost like drawing in a long deep breath of the freshest air you can imagine, complete with the bouquet of wildflowers, an unexpected but not unpleasant experience in the least.
When he has sipped and enjoyed the last of the wine, he begins to talk of weather and crops and traveling, but it only take you a moment to realize that there are some oddly familiar words and phrases mixed into the rather pedestrian banter. He seems to be watching you for the light of recognition as you pick up on his message.
After some thirty minutes of amiable chatting, he offers, "Maben provides a good roof if you're of a mind to stay the night. I won't tell anyone I saw you." He chuckles at this, as do your neighbors at the table, excuses himself, and heads outside.
I believe I need a respite. I'm going to take the barkeep up on his room. Maybe we can talk more in the morning. Getting up, and dropping the coin for the room, Lalanadar heads for bed but as he passes a full table, something stops him. He looks down and the farmers and a traveler and shakes his head for a second. Turning to the traveler. Sir, I have this 6th sense that we may be headed the same direction. I know you not but some... with a little smirk thing tells me that we may be headed the same way. as he says thing, he flinches a bit like he was poked. If you'd like some company on your adventures, I would be willing to share a path
Good night Lalandar. I will look for you in the morning
Turning to the bartender. You have been most kind sir, but I fear I will need to trouble you a bit longer. I am afraid my current belongings will not be sufficient in the coming days. Could you point me in the direction of the village merchants?
Retconning the last part of my last post.
Turning back to the bartender,
Do you know the men at that table? gesturing to the table Lalandar paused at.
As the fellow dries a glass, he nods, "Yes, well, most of them. The fellow with his back to the wall is a traveler, but the others are all regulars. No one's giving you trouble, I trust?"
1.) I remember you well and fondly
2.) This town seems a bit on edge for peaceful farming community. What lies beneath the surface that drive such tension and brings adventurers? subtly indicating the dwarves and elves
One road may be as good as another, but the unknown may be best travelled in numbers. Do you have a destination in mind?
He smiles at the claim of recognition and nods. As to the second question, he shrugs and shakes his head. As he prepares to leave, he turns back and offers, "This is an old land. There are things here that have been here much longer than the fair village of Swallowfeld." He shrugs again and makes his exit.
I have some business to take care of here. There is a keep that has drawn my attention in the past. Tomorrow, I plan on visiting it to see what is inside. If you're interested, I will be headed there early. If you'd like to travel that path, I believe you'll not be disappointed in the outcome. Yawning, Lalandar will take another look around. I just wanted to give you the offer. I'm tired from the travel and am taking up room here. Meet me here at sunup if you're interested.
There are murmurs from the locals at Lalandar's statement.
Nodding, "Valentin's Folly."
Skeptically, "Hear that? He's been to the Shadowed Keep and returned. Few do."
Whispering, "Maybe they'll take care of the goblin problem like that last group." Responding, "Yeah, what happened to them?" Shrug, "Ask the goblins."
"Adventurers. They could do something useful, figure out what's happened to the peddlers."
Well, I'll think on the offer as I share this wine with my new friends here. Thank you for the invitation
after Lalander takes his leave, Bose will offer his wineskin to the table and say.
So, what is this 'Shadowed Keep' everyone is so careful to not talk about?
You share the table with six human males - and your departed friend's empty chair. All wear simple, practical clothes stained with the evidence of days of labor. Their hands, to a man, are covered with callouses, no doubt well-earned.
A big, burly fellow just past the empty chair on your right hasn't said a thing that you've noticed. He sits nursing his ale and staring into the glass with pale blue eyes. His blonde hair is roughly cut - perhaps he did it himself - and doesn't quite reach the collar of his jacket. He glances up at your offer of wine, but slightly shakes his head and takes another sip. You are pretty sure he's been nursing the same mug all night and will probably make it last until he leaves at this rate.
Two youths are next, dark of hair and eye. One's Geoff, the other Johann, but you've already forgotten which is which. They look like they were probably still playing knights and monsters with whatever sticks came to hand just a year ago. They have both had trouble hiding the fact that they don't see many elves. Apparently your former acquaintance doesn't count. They are a bit chattier, but they don't seem to have much information relevant outside the village.
The next fellow is likely their father. Similar coloring, but older with graying hair, especially at the temples. When he speaks, he uses thoughtful, measured tones and the two youngsters stop their chatter when he speaks. He takes some of the offered alcohol, but after tasting it, it apparently doesn't suit him and he drinks no more.
At the head of the table - opposite the strong, silent type - is an older man. Wisps of white hair sprout from his chin, but it's probably been a long time since they could call themselves a proper beard. The ring of hair that remains is almost glaringly white and matches the bushy eyebrows that are so long he could almost knit them into a single brow. He accepts your offer and sucks on his lower lip for a while, considering your question.
The fellow on your left is probably about the age of the boys' da. He has a head of thick red hair and a beard to match, both of which have the slightest hints of gray. He's the first to offer a response after sipping the wine and giving it some due consideration.
"Nice for a change, but not really my sort of drink. Too fruity. To yer question, the Shadowed Keep is nigh a myth." The old man leans in to protest, but the redhead raises a hand to forestall him, "I said nigh, old man. The place is real enough, I suspect, but it's so deep in the woods, you'll probably find no one in town that's actually seen it. A group of fools leading a pack of children said they'd been there a few weeks ago and rescued the kids. They weren't none of our missing boys and girls, so they were told to take them to Wolverton. Good riddance, anyway." He stops, keeping his further thoughts to himself.
The old man takes the opening. "Aye, the shadowed keep had a different name once, after the man what built it. Now folks call it Valentin's Folly. He fancied himself a powerful man and was going to carve out a land around his keep to rule. The goblins in the forest did him and his in, to the last man, woman, and child. I was a much younger man when that happened. No one goes there now, for fear of the goblins and the wolves in the forest. Well, some say they're going, but they don't come back. Now folks say it's haunted, shadowed."
The father of the two boys finally offers, nodding at the red-headed man, "His lad's one of the missing. We think he got swept out to sea after falling in the river. Been gone over a year now. The group, the ones that said they'd been to the keep? They came into town on the North Road, along Taran's Run. If you and your friend really want to find the keep, that's the direction I'd travel. You should move quicker on the road for as long as it lasts. With the lumber company gone, no one else uses the road, so there's no telling what sort of condition it's in, but at least you won't be dodging thousand-year-old oak trees as you walk. C'mon, lads, your mother's probably wondering what's keeping us." With that, he stands, nods at each of you at the table, and turns to leave. Several of those gathered wish them well or offer jests as they head out into the night.
The redhead comes back to the present. "Sorry, I should be home. Come, John, you can use the haymow tonight if you need to." He heads out the door without waiting for confirmation and without saying anything further. Well-wishes and farewells roll off his back as he ignores everyone on his way out the door. The large fellow finishes his ale with one large gulp and slowly makes his way out, careful to avoid bumping into or stepping on anyone as he goes. At the door, he turns, looks at you, and offers a general wave to the entire room before ducking through the door.
You find yourself with a fair bit of wine left and an old-timer at a table for eight. "Would there be any more of that elixir in your bottle, by chance?"
Jaonos thought a little on the information he heard across the pub. He only caught bits and pieces but he was glad to know the darkness that drew him here was near.
No trouble at all sir. Thank you.
Deciding to take a more bold path to information Jaonos stood and made his way over to the stranger's table.
Good evening sir, my name is Jaonos. Mind if I have a seat?
As Jaonos decides whether to proceed more boldly or not, he sees most of the men at the table take their leave of the inn, dispersing to their respective homes, most likely.
The older human that remains, holding court for an audience of one, smiles at your request, regardless of whether it was for him or not, and waves you into a seat. "Rare to be so popular, it is. No one 'round here cares what I think of things - or they already know." He chuckles a bit. "Are ye seeking information about haunted castles, too?"
Tell me the stories of the haunted castle.
Feel free to sit if you like stranger
The old man reaches for the flask again to see if there's anything in it - and if Bose will stop his reach.
"There's not a whole lot to tell, actually. It's been some decades ago, this fellow Valentin came to the coast with a whole bunch of men - a small army, really. Even the folks of Swallowfeld had heard of him because of the tales the bards told. Who knows if they were true, but when he showed up, Lord Locher - not the current one, his grandfather - granted him some land to build a home on and control if he would provide taxes and men when the Lord asked."
"Well, I don't know what sort of fellow Valentin was, but he had a reputation for killing goblins and their kin. If half the stories I heard growing up were true, he lived up to the reputation when he got here. Fought them for years, I guess, even while his keep was being built. Even wiped out a tribe or two, I'm told, but they breed worse than rabbits, so they are back now, worse than ever."
"Anyway, they stopped building on Valentin's keep for some reason. And people started seeing his men slipping out of the woods and down the road. No one heard much about the keep and Valentin's people stopped coming to town to get supplies. Then a fellow comes to town looking a bit shook up. He said he'd been hunting up there - the hunting was good where the goblins feared to go, you know - and found the keep, everyone in it slaughtered. He was scared to go inside, he said, but all of the guards... well, it must have been bad because he couldn't even really describe what had been done to them. He said the whole area had the stench of death and there was blood and gore everywhere."
"There's been lots of stories come from it since then, but this is what I heard when I was a boy, before the liars got a hold of it and made it more interesting. Anymore, I'm content to let people think that Valentin and his castle were all figments of a bard's tale. It's dangerous to be in those woods what with the goblins and orcs and animals. I've even heard there's a tribe of elves that don't want humans in the woods, so they capture them and sacrifice them to their strange..." Realizing that he's talking to two elves, one of which appears to be an elf of the faith, he says, weakly, "Uh, no offense. I'm sure that last part isn't true."
No offense taken from me. You might be surprised what folks would do if they beleive it to be in their interest.....interesting tale though. I have to admit, I am curious to know the truth of it today.
The woman looks around the room, which quickly goes quiet. It's obvious there's a storm on the horizon and no one wants to miss the spectacle. Except for the one fellow that seems to be melting in his seat as he tries to hide under the table in the far corner of the room.
Fortunately (maybe) for him, her gaze is on the wrong side of the room when he spots her and makes like a shadow. Her eyes narrow, she gives the rolling pin a good shake, and she turns to stomp out the door without saying a word.
In the ensuing silence, a voice can be plainly heard, "Anyone know if Missus Jaryn's flower garden is blooming at the moment?" Snickers and chuckles can be heard around the room as Maban - the proprietor - says, "Reminds me, I need to check in with my wife. Johann, you know where the back door is - but remember she was waiting for you out there last time..."
A few more men, many smiling, gather their things and settle their tabs before they head out the door. Johann follows suit, switching cloaks with another man before they go outside.
It looks like this party is breaking up.
The next morning, the three potential allies meet in the common room where a simple breakfast is made available. Maban wishes you well and invites you to come again when you have completed your adventures.
Though light enough to travel, especially for elven eyes, the sun won't actually clear the hills to the east for a while. In relatively short order, the companions are approaching the Twisted Forest. As they walk, some of the farmers in the fields acknowledge them with a wave or a nod.
At the edge of the Forest, an unusually large dog appears to be watching the companions approach. Jaonos calls out in an unfamiliar language as you approach, and the animal stands and stretches, emphasizing just how large it is, before it trots closer. As it approaches, it becomes clear that it is not a large dog, but a wolf.
I'm assuming this beautiful beast belongs to you Bose?
I expect a beast that size does not 'belong' to anyone. Rather, I expect he decides who is worthy of drawing continued breath in his company....Myself, I have not yet made his aquaintance
The wolf stops and regards the two strangers from about 15 feet, but doesn’t seem threatened (or threatening) as the party approaches.
As you pause to consider the strangeness of this large and proud predator walking out of the woods so calmly, each of you in turn realizes that you are not alone on this reputedly 'unused' road. A short, stocky fellow with a cloak obscuring him as much as humanly possible is making a pretty poor showing of nonchalantly following you up the road. It's a bit warm for a cloak, let alone one with the hood pulled up completely. The only thing you can really tell about him - he's still a few hundred feet back - is a shock of jet black hair protruding from the top of his hood and definite bulge on his back, hidden by the cloak.
After a moment of watching his gait, Bose realizes that he knows this newcomer.
If my eyes are not deceiving me, I believe an old friend is travelling our road. If you will excuse me for just a minute,...
I am on the road to test the mettle of a local legend. Perhaps you wouldn't mind seeing how many Goblins you can end. The locals say that there a great many of them about.....Assuming that the invitation I was extended is good for one more