Faywen deftly avoids being torn to shreds by the turning wheels, but the way in is tight. This is a place of mist and noise. Four immense waterwheels churn steadily in the northern part of this large room, while to the south, whirring belts of leather, gears, pulleys, and thick ropes spin and churn, using the eternal motion of the river below to power pistons that rumble along the southern wall.
Three men appear to be working here to keep things running smooth. They do not seem to notice you.
Faywen scans the room around her, her eyes just barely above the waterline. She focuses in on the men she sees working, looking for anything unusual about them.
Unless she spots something interesting, she exercises her better judgment and heads back out to the others to report her disappointing find. Blasting my way in from underwater would probably blow the cover of whoever's at the door.
You don't notice anything peculiar, so you report back.
Faywen eventually emerges from the water and onto the shore, shaking her head. "From what I could see, they actually are working to keep the mill running. But I couldn't find more without almost certainly being found out. Sorry that wasn't more helpful."
"The problem with that is that they can just take the message and not let us in the door. Not that I have a better idea."
"Perhaps we are buyers, seeking to purchase a large amount of lumber for some construction project?"
"Worth a shot. Shall we go?"
"We could offer to discuss our various deities with them, in an effort to ensure their souls are properly aligned towards the right one, or ones?"
"Pretty sure I saw a sign sayin' solitors would be shot. 'Sides, ain't no one wants ta be lectured on their life. Regardless, I would suggest if we want ta talk our way in that we split up a tad. Kinda a large group ta deliver a message. 'Sides, iff'n we fail, maybe we don't want them ta know all of our faces, ya kin?"
"René, are you saying you wouldn't be thrilled if a small army of strangers showed up to your workplace to try and convert you?" Faywen asks, grinning. "You make a good point, as usual. Who should go, and who should hang back?"
"I'm no diplomat." Reynard says, with a sheepish look.
"As much as the message of the Drunken Hero is universal, and one that I am certain a bunch of hard working lumber mill workers would want to hear, I am afraid that I am better at the pro tidal exercise of his teachings than I am at explaining them. In short, I can brew the brew much better than I can talk the talk."
I'm pretty good with words. I can try to get us in. Just let me know the story... Cordwin adds.
"I'm not that great with words so I'd be happy if you go up and do the talking Cordwin. Maybe just one more person should go with you. Hey, Faywen, maybe it should be you. You're fine looking. Maybe a little female charm would soften their hearts."
A flicker of annoyance passes over Faywen's face before she nods. "I'll go with you, Cordwin. You talk them up, and if they catch on and attack, I'll hold them off long enough for the rest of the group to lend us a hand."
"Hit a couple of us with message Cordwin, so you can call us if needed."
When all is ready, Cordwin will accompany Faywen and approach the main entrance.
Reynard will stay toward the back, inspecting some vials as if trying to discern their contents.
Cordwin knocks on the door, and then repeats as no one answers at first. Eventually a middle aged man opens the door. "Now what do you want?"
Cordwin turns to Faywen, Oh Good, My Dear! I was afraid that no one was here and we would have to come back another day!
He then turns to the man, Good day my fine fellow! My wife and I wish to commission an exquisite, one-of-a kind, wood-made masterpiece and we need lumber -lots of it! Might we speak to the proprietor of this establishment? It will be worth a small fortune for him, it would!
Faywen attempts to put on her most winning smile, showing off her unsettlingly sharp teeth.
The man appears to buy your story, but seems a little skeptical. "Tell me a bit about this project. We might be able to help you out."
You get a look inside, and see at least two other men working. The entirety of the first floor consists of a loading area. An opening in the ceiling into the floor above is filled with a tangle of ropes and slings for lowering timber. Two sturdy wagons sit to the south, next to a bank of machinery accessed by four low doors; the grinding and creaking of the machinery fills the room.
He motions for the two of you to come in. Who goes?
Cordwin steps in. I envision a huge shrine to Torag on the road to Magnimar. I have the land and the carpenters and I just need the lumber. It is going to be magnificent! He looks around. Mighty fine operation you have here. Are you in charge?
Trox shifts from foot to foot before deciding that he is not comfortable letting Cordwin and the others go in without him. He nods and follows assuming he will jus be described as a guard or some such.
"What, me? Nah. Boss is upstairs." Then a little louder, "Torag, eh? Sure he want's something that big?"
"Come on, I'll show you upstairs," the man says as he starts to close the door, after letting Cordwin and Faywen in. The stairs appear to be behind the door.
I feel Torag has been looking after me since I was a lad. It might not be what he is wantin' but it will be what he is gettin'. Cordwin says with an affable laugh.
Faywen follows after Cordwin, keeping her eyes and ears open for anything suspicious.
René continued to stand out of sight of the front door but close enough that he'd hear should things go awry.
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"I don't know Erond. We don't want to make those guys inside jumpy. That might make it worse for Cordwin and Feywen. Hey, I just noticed. They're the two 'wins'." Druamin chuckles at his own joke.
"I figure this will go as well as any of our plans. Did we have a plan b lined up?"
"I reckin' if this don't work, mebbe sneak in tonight fer a little lookie-loo 'round?"
Druamin leans back on the stump, chewing on a long blade of grass. "You know, I can change into a small forest animal, like a mouse or snake, and then sneak in. Should be able to get a good look around then sneak back out. But we should wait until the wins come out."
The door closes behind Faywen.
The man leads you up the stairs to the next floor. You see a closed door, and can hear someone working behind it. Up another floor, same situation. Finally on the 3 floor, it is a bit more open, and 2 more men here are planing wood. They stop when they see you.
The man that lead you up says "They're here to see the boss. Says they have a big church to build. Is he taking visitors?"
Another man responds, as the last moves between you and the door he knocks on. "People here to see you boss."
Out of the room comes an elf with large, colorful robes on. He looks at you and sneers. "Did they have friends?"
Then directly to the two of you, he says "Where are your friends?"
First off, it is a shrine, not a church, although it might lead to a church down the road. Cordwin says, gently correcting the man.
To the elf, Cordwin gives a slight bow. Cordwin Ironbeard at your service! Mr..? As for friends, you will have to be a tad more specific. I know a lot of people and I count many friends among them!
Reynard leans against the wall beside the door, inspection his vials.