Those that have managed to drift together along the road head out from the small village of Krum. Heading northeast for two days along the foothills of the mountains. the middle of the second day they begin to see the occasional farm or cottage off the main trail. It is hard for several of you to consider it a true road having traveled some impressive works of engineering.
As afternoon begins to wane as you crest a hill you see across the valley a town with a wooden palisade. buildings spilling out dotting the valley here and there more organized the closer they come to the walls.
The keep sits atop the hill. behind it a beautiful waterfall cascades down the sheer side of the mountain. The spray and mist putting a rainbow like halo over the town in the afternoon sun. You have arrived at Heron Falls.
and so the Gnoll spun around in circles trying to get to the cat that had latched itself to it's back. Eventually, it became so dizzy it fell half in to the hearth and caught flame. I understand the smell was terrible but the beast ran from the inn and it's band never returned. Thus the name of the inn! Oh, and it appears that we are nearly arrived.
Keith smiles at the unlikely tale, "Well if I ever visit that town I'll be sure to stay at the Singed Gnoll and raise a glass in your honour!"
Keith pauses and takes in the view, "Oh look a rainbow over the town, and it has a palisade how quaint. I suppose we'd better find an inn to freshen up before we report to the Baron's court. Wouldn't do to come in smelling of the road."
Shyr laughed and shook her head at Ashar's tales. "Do you ever run out of those? I must have heard close to a hundred on the way here from the desert."
Ashar's story was a great way to pass the hike across the valley. You all realize that you have crossed it like a stroll through the garden. Rows of buildings now line the road. You get the occasional glance from a local as you pass by. A few stables, a general supply shop, a smith clangs away shaping a horseshoe in his open front shop. Some peasant folk likely farmers sit on a poarch in an array of rocking chairs, stumps, or just dangling off the poarch. The animated conversation slowly softens till it noticeably stops. The men appraising the well armed group of obvious strangers. Realizing the party has noticed they again take up the assorted conversations. With a nod or a smile from a few of the men. Ahead of you, you see the gate house.
Chuckling quietly at Ashar's latest tale. Ûzorgráng looks at the town folk appraising them, smiles, then yawns and stretches, as if he just woke up just moments earlier.
"More comfortable than caravan tents! Hope there's food food here. I'm hungry. Again." Ûzorgráng says loudly, and then sighs ruefully with a vacant look on his face. I should not have eaten all that deer bone marrow the last two days! He ponders… Oh well, nobody else wanted it anyway.
"That's where we go next, is it?" he says, casually pointing to the gatehouse before them.
Keith studies the rag tag collection of humanity on the porch, his smile never wavering as he thinks, 'I wonder if this lot know their place? If not I fear a firm hand will be needed with the peasantry...'
He selects one at random to test the waters and wanders over with a smile to ask, "Tell me friend where might I find an inn for my companions and I to stay? We seek one with a bath so that we may wash away the stench of the road."
Keith quickly has the attention of the men assembled on the porch. An older fellow sitting on a stump at the edge pulls the long stemmed pipe from his mouth swirls of tobacco smoke billow forth from his nostrils. You folks would br wanting the Thirsty Church. Tis just inside the gates on the western side of the road you cannot miss it. He points the pipe towards the gate than hooks it to the left pantomiming the directions.
Keith flips the man a coin and replies, "Thank you, kindly."
As he, and presumably the others, wander towards the Thirsty Church, he thinks 'A filthy habbit, I wonder if it hasn't rotted his mind or do they all talk like that? Still there was no dissembling, perhaps they do recognise their betters.'
Jiulius frown, a little surprised by Keith style. Then shrug.
"Yes, a bath will be welcome. Wish I could use that prestidigitation cantrip that the wizards get. I have seen it used to clean clothing and even used to freshen up. Very handy."
Sigh with friendly envy.
"Ashar, that tale was wonderful, but if I can bother you again, you were saying that the desert caravans have a precise etiquette on the use of watering holes? How it work?"
Julius has asked endless questions about life in the southern regions to Ashar and Shyr while they were traveling together.
He even asked Ûzorgráng about what he remember and what happened that made him forget most of his life.
"It was some kind of enchantment? A hit on the head?"
He is slow to notice when other people want him to stop.
Another thing that everyone has noticed is that he is really liberal in using what little magic he has. He has used create water in several occasion to replenish the party reserves or simply to get fresh water instead of the stale one in the watherskins. At dusk and dawn he always use a light spell and write for some time in a book he has with him.
Along the road in one occasion he has even stopped to clean the scraped knee of a child.
What denomination of coin to flip to the old farmer Keith?
The farmer seems a bit startled when you flip him the coin, but the old codger still seems to have good reflexes as he deftly snags the coin out of the air. Thank ye Sir. Most kind of ya. He tips his hat and watches as the party heads to the gate.
Ûzorgráng tells Julius "I sort of remember being sold as a farm slave to some wizard and being force-fed something vile." … he then starts an impressive recitation of Orcish swear words … "My memory only becomes clear after being found exhausted and starving by my future boss. He kept me on as a bodyguard before he died of old age. He was nice to me. I miss the old boy. He taught me table manners. His heirs don't like Half-Orcs, so I lost that cushy job."
It is worth noting that the current table manners of Ûzorgráng are unusual. His favourite sweetmeats are bones from the game he's caught. He cleans the bones meticulously and set them aside. When he's ready for a "snack", he bites them, snapping them like twigs, to get at the tasty (raw) marrow inside. So, if Ûzorgráng says something tastes vile, it must be astoundingly odious.
Despite his dining foibles, Ûzorgráng is fastidious. His 'waste not want not' attitude with bone marrow shows he can rough it to survive.
Shyr felt a little put off by Keith. Maybe it was just his manner of speaking. She listened to Ûzorgráng recounting of his history. "It sounds to me like your best bet would be to hunt down the wizard who bought you. Did anything besides memory loss happen to you?" She felt a little self-concous at all the stares she got, although by now she was used to it. As they walked to the inn, she thought about what the old man had said. The Thirsty Church? I wonder how an inn could get a name like that?.
One thing her companions note about Shyr on the way to Heron Falls is that stops to pray to Sarenrae not ust in the morning but when the sun sets as well, without fault. She also isn't very smart in the book sense of the world, more to do with the rustic exsistence at the monastery and lack of books.
Keith smiles tolerantly at Julius's obvious enthusiasm for magic, and replies "Magic is indeed wonderful and has many interesting uses, but I find it best not to take things for granted otherwise you'll come unstuck if it doesn't work someday."
You get the impression that Keith's interest in magic lies elsewhere...
As for Ûzorgráng, well Keith doesn't know what to make of him, 'Apparently he's looking for work too, I hope he doesn't make the Baron angry.'
"I have a strong arm too, Keith. I am not the best at either magic or combat, but I can mix them efficiently, and then Sarenrae teachings help me in taking the right choices.
Magic is wonderful as it make so many things easier, but sometime they are the wrong things."
For a second Julius seem less cheerful than his norm and a shadow pass on his face, but it last less than a the time needed for a small cloud to pass before the sun. After that his bright smile return.
"Let's get to this inn, I want to eat something that wasn't cooked by one of us. Especially me."
Keith laughs, "Trust me my cooking is worse! Yes lets retire to the inn."
As they set off, Keith trails behind slightly and studies Julius's thinking, 'That one perceives much, but I feel he has not truly grasped the fundamental cruelty of the world. As evidenced by nature red of tooth and claw. Alas I fear he and others of his ilk may not appreciate some of my, insights...'
"I have the both of you beat. My teachers back at the monastary said I was the only person they know who could burn water instead of boiling it." Shyr said, joining in on the laughter. As they continued on to the inn, she made a quick mental note to began training with her Scimitair again each morning. She had been forgetting to as they traveled.
Ûzorgráng, ever glib, tells Shyr about his former master: "My master? I heard he was torn to pieces. Good riddance! If I remember him at all, it's always with the same nightmare. Being force-fed something horrifying. Not meat, not blood, not plant. Don't know what it was. Then his face frozen in surprise. Then I feel like I am burning alive and everything goes dark." He shudders visibly recalling that recurring dream. But soon recovers.
"Oh well. I don't have to worry about hunting HIM down for revenge. So it's not all bad, I reckon." He chuckles quietly about that and then starts daydreaming.
Suddenly startled by everyone else's cooking jokes, he exclaims: "YES! Food! How could I forget about THAT? I wonder what this Thirsty Church has? Cooked venison would be a nice change"
He Muses: Hope it's not too expensive. I'm skint! But I'm ever so hungry. Again.
The guard at the gate leans against the wall idly chatting with a young peasant girl about his age. He looks over at the lot of you as you approach the gate looking as if he is about to come over to speak to you the girl leans over and whispers something in his ear giggling as she leans back and flicks her hair. The guard turns to the girl a smile on his face Chelle you don't say? you hear him say as you exit the wooden tunnel of the gatehouse into Heron Falls proper. Sure to his word you see a large cross between Inn and chapel. It stands two stories tall with a wrap around porch covered by the second story cantilevered out from the first floor. A large tankard hangs from the cross beam of the structure Thirsty Church engraved on the side of the tankard.
You enter to an expansive taproom. Easily over half empty and still you guess at least thirty to forty people are in the establishment. A large man getting on in years in friars robes stands behind the bar; a shaggy blond beard hangs down across his chest. Wrinkles crease his stout cheeks from infectious smiling.
"I'll stand behind you lot and look impressive, shall I?" whispers Ûzorgráng. "That's what good old Rodnev, bless his soul, paid me to do in a place like this."
Sure enough, he stands impassively behind everyone else, with his arms crossed over his chest.
"Besides," he thinks with a wry smile, "it wouldn't take much to look more fearsome than that skirt-chasing guard who didn't so much as say 'by your leave' when we plodded past him."
You all survey the scene in front of you. A handful of porters sit along the bar with cold pewter tankards of honey brown ale. Plates of a fresh baked sourdough roll with succulent spiced roast pork, shredded with a slab of sharp hard cheese. At a long table sit six town guardsmen obviously off duty although after seeing the guy at the gate these might just be the patrol. A little further down you see two humans and a dwarf all obviously merchants discussing some elaborate bargain over drinks. Near one end you see a stage with a few musicians talking with a handful of regulars and admirers. You see off toward the far end a lone dwarf appraising the room nursing a pint.
Hail and well met! Welcome to the Thirsty Church, I am Brother Lothar proprietor and prophet. Barman and Bishop. What can I get you the first mug is on Cayden? He looks excitedly at the adventurous looking group of strangers. Several tapped kegs lined the wall, bottles and jugs, decanters and pots lined shelves. He slid back a panel on his side of the counter and frost swirled into the air from the depth below. Lifting a frosty pewter pint he spins it on his meaty finger. Grasping the tankard he points to Ûzorgráng, You there big fella you look like an ale man to me eh? What'll it be?
That guards was really distracted. We could have brought anything in the town. Sure, he has a pleasant reason to be distracted, but he was on duty.
"A Caydenite church and inn. I should have guessed from the name. Good thing, it mean they will have good ale and food. In that order."
Julius try to gauge the number of costumer in the inn against his size.
Blinking in bewilderment at the barkeep, Ûzorgráng then strides casually forward, saying: "Well, if you put it that way, an ale would be lovely!" He motions toward Julius and says "If my friend here says the food and drink are good, that's good enough for me! `ow much?"
Ale in hand, he turns to the others and, pointing to the ale-nursing dwarf in the corner, he says "Hullo! That dwarf yonder. Yes, the one with the fancy axe. I'll wager he's handy in a fight. Maybe he'll be friends with us!" And without another word, walks straight up to said Dwarf.
"Nice axe you have there" Says Ûzorgráng, in fluent Dwarven to the Dwarf, as he casually sits in a nearby chair that groans with the combined weight of Ûzorgráng and all his gear.
The Half-Orc unceremoniously inhales his own pint, then daintily wipes the foam off his mouth with a spotless handkerchief that he tucks back into a pocket.
Without skipping a beat, he continues, in Dwarven: "Me, I like chains. Handy against bandits, but bandits are flimsy. No challenge. I hear there's good fights and good money near here. That's why we're here. What? Those four humans standing there gawking? They're my friends, they are. I like them. I'm they're body guard, I am! Why are they staring at us like that? They probably like your axe too. How about you? What brings you here?"
Keith flashes a smile at the barkeep saying, "A flagon of something malty would be most welcome good sir! As for which brew I'll trust in your judgement."
He then spends several hours making small talk, hoping to find out what the local news is.
Keith watches the strange Half Orc's antics with mild disapproval thinking, 'That one will be a liability in court. I hope he has the good sense to keep quiet.'
Julius keep a vary eye on Ûzorgráng and the dwarf, ready to stop any quarrel. Generally dwarves aren't so friendly with half orcs.
"Thank you for your offer, Brother Lothar. There is some local brew that you would suggest?
We area group of weary travelers, we would like a good meal, a bath and some sleeping space.
What are the options and prices?"
After asking the other their meal and sleeping preferences Julius do some haggling with Brother Lothar.
After eating he start asking questions tot he locals, trying to get an idea of the lay of the land and what is happening locally. He ask questions primarily to Brother Lothar if he is free.
Booming at the top of his lungs, his normal volume Ashar surveys the tavern.
Ah to be in civilization once more. Good Brother Lothar, an ale would do well on my dry throat, but Ashar gives Lothar a conspiring wink,don't think we will setting for the common drink. We are mighty heroes who have ventured far and wide for the taste of the blessed mead of this place. A mead drawn from the udders of a golden cow twenty hands high. The chosen creation of Cayden himself!
Ashar attempts to draw Lothar in to his odd tale and to garner word from the town as the drinking progresses.
You have heard of Daisy? We normally bring her out on high holy days, but if you want to see her how can I deny a pilgrim traveler. He motions for you to come with him through the archway leading to the kitchen. To your right you see a couple halflings and humans moving through the kitchen with speed and efficiency it is almost a dance they perform as they shuffle around each other prepping for the dinner rush due in a few hours.
On your left is another archway leading into a separate side chamber. you step through and see a solid gold cow. A bovine smirk carved into it's face. A blessed relic of Cayden retrieved from mountain giants, who stole it long ago. Wasn't far from here actually; as such things go I suppose and well this being home and all I decided to open the Thirsty Church He reaches under the relic hands you the pint for you to hold. Now think of what drink it is you want. once you confirm he gives an udder a tug and fills your tankard.
While yammering at the Dwarf with the fancy axe, Ûzorgráng will glance back occasionally at his buddies and the guards in the taproom to make sure nothing's amiss.
"I wonder why that none of that lot was at the guardhouse?"
Keith gets a tankard suited to his pallet the mood of the patrons is generally good. He makes a round of the room picking up bits and pieces of conversation as he makes his circuit. You gather that Baron Saben Lumont isn't a bad guy per say he just isn't the leader his father was; an inept noble as it were. He has of late unfortunately had several problems pop up which are of growing concern. If the rumors are to be believed it is a drinking hall after all. There are highway men on the north road who have begun accosting travelers, Something being called the Blackheart Beast is harassing miners in the mountains, and Julius discovers the goblins of the Den Wood are causing troubles for the farms along the boarder of the woods to the west. Normally this tribe stays deep in the wood and hasn't caused any problems for decades.
Ûzorgráng you study the guardsman and it would certainly seem that they are off duty. You recognize that the man sitting on the far end is an officer, Sargent if not mistaken.
Ale in hand, he turns to the others and, pointing to the ale-nursing dwarf in the corner, he says "Hullo! That dwarf yonder. Yes, the one with the fancy axe. I'll wager he's handy in a fight. Maybe he'll be friends with us!" And without another word, walks straight up to said Dwarf."Nice axe you have there" Says Ûzorgráng, in fluent Dwarven to the Dwarf, as he casually sits in a nearby chair that groans with the combined weight of Ûzorgráng and all his gear.
The Half-Orc unceremoniously inhales his own pint, then daintily wipes the foam off his mouth with a spotless handkerchief that he tucks back into a pocket.
Without skipping a beat, he continues, in Dwarven: "Me, I like chains. Handy against bandits, but bandits are flimsy. No challenge. I hear there's good fights and good money near here. That's why we're here. What? Those four humans standing there gawking? They're my friends, they are. I like them. I'm they're body guard, I am! Why are they staring at us like that? They probably like your axe too. How about you? What brings you here?"
Startled slightly from his musings as he nurses his ale, Thorgrund peers up at the huge half-orc looming over, clearly impressed with his grasp of the dwarven language.
"Chains, eh?" he asks back in dwarvish. "My folk are unfortunately not blessed with the height to use a chain like that, but I can tell you that my axe has ruined plenty of days...". He laughs heartily, hoping the chair the half-orc has taken will hold up.
"Thorgrund Stormcloud, at your service. I'm looking for work, oddly enough. Rumor has it that the local lord is looking for help, and I figure my axe and I can be useful." He picks up the axe, laying it on the table. "I call her "Vengryn", which means "Vengeance" in my tongue. She has saved my life plenty of times."
Keith asks Brother Lothar, "In addition to your most excellent ale, my companions and I would like to rent a couple of rooms and perhaps get some water drawn for a bath."
If its still early Keith will enquire where the public enteance to Baron's court is and if there are any local customs he should be aware of.
Ashar is stunned by the revelation that the tale he has made up on the spot was actually true. He fills his tankard in rare Efreeti fire wine and staggers back to the main room and sits down next to Shyr. A golden cow... For the first time since they had met he is speechless.
It is mid afternoon. You learn the Baron holds an open court once a week on Stardays . Other than that you may go to the keep to request an audience. A tankard of any of the standard fare which would easily be top shelf elsewhere are three coppers a pint with prices going up from there for "the good stuff or more exotic or rare potables", a hot bath is two coppers, a private room is 2 silvers, a bed in the common room upstairs is 5 coppers, or for those short on funds the Thirsty Church allows you to pull sleep in the tap room for free a service to the wanderer.
With a grin, Ûzorgráng says to Thorgrund: "Pleased to meet you, Thorgrund. My name is Ûzorgráng. We're hoping to find Baron Lumont too. You give your axe a name like a friend? I like that idea." Pointing to the spiked chain, he says "I might as well name this 'Varguthauk', or 'Dagger-Chain' in Orcish. Made it myself, starting with the slave chains my old boss found me wearing. I've used it on many bandits protecting him."
"Hmmm… See the bard over there sitting by that woman with the scimitar? He's Ashar and she's Shyr. She's a cleric. She's nice. Something must have happened; Ashar isn't saying anything. We should join them to find out what's going on."
Ûzorgráng stands and motions for Thorgrund to lead the way.
Thorgrund downs the last bit of ale in his mug, gathers his axe, and proceeds to follow Uzorgrang to meet the others.
Keith fishes out a few silver coils from his purse to pay for bed and bath for a week in advance. He then wanders back over to his traveling companions and says, "Seems the Baron hold open court on Stardays. I don't fancy waiting quite that long. After I've freshened up I'm going to try and petition for a private audience - or at least find out how one does that. Anyone want to come with me?"
Oh shouldn't be much trouble I imagine the Baron seems keen on finding daring souls willing to help. I am sure you will be welcomed at the keep. It seems Lothar has no trouble inserting himself into the conversations of his patrons. I will have a bath prepared for you sir. Down the hall there past the watershed door number 3 for the bath. Your room is upstairs on the left room 7. He hands you a key for your room taking the coins he says. I will start a tab and let you know when you get close to spending this.
Ûzorgráng walks up to the others with Thorgrund following.
"Hello! Keith, Julius, Shyr, and Ashar, this is Thorgrund," motioning to the Dwarf with him "… he's good with an axe. I like him!" He says this all matter-of-factly.
"Ashar? Is anything wrong? You look like you've seen a … a … a THING that stops you from talking."
He waits for someone to speak, like a toddler who just asked "WHY?" Again.
Julius pay for a private room and bath for a week and ask if he can have a extra pallet for a guest and what will will be the cost of that.
"Guys, some of you want to share a room?"
- * -
To Ûzorgráng and Thorgrund.
"Well meet, Thorgrund Stormcloud, it is a pleasure"
Julius do some small talk with the two, trying to get an idea of Thorgrund character.
- * -
After a good meal and a bath Julius try to gather all of his newfound friends and Thorgrund Stormcloud at a single table, possibly in a quiet corner of the inn.
"Friends, we all share an interest in doing the right thing and at the same time getting fame, glory and gold.
Stardays the Baron will held open court, or we can ask an audience for tomorrow, as Keith aptly suggested. I think that it would be a good idea to do that.
From what we have learned there are several things troubling this land.
Personally I would like to tackle the bandit as the first thing and leave the Blackheart Beast last, as it seem a mighty foe and we need to learn to work together.
Ûzorgráng and Thorgrund Stormcloud are mighty warriors, Ashar and I can both use a weapon and some magical power, Keith is a full magician and Shyr is a cleric of Sarenrae. We can overcome most obstacles if we work together.
Or fail miserably if everyone do his own thing without consideration for the others. That is one of the lessons that I have learned in my apprenticeship, working in unison make us stronger."
Julius take a breath.
"So, what is your opinion? We will work together? You want to work together?
And, who want to be the front man when we speak to the Baron, if we go together?
I know my limits and the high court of a Baron, even whose barony sit on the borderlands, isn't exactly my territory."
Julius is a bit flushed from his bold move and wait for replies.
Ashar looks up and sees Thorgrund and seems to snap back to himself. My apologies master Dwarf. I should have expected you. All great expeditions have the sturdy support of one of the mountain people.
After listening to Julius and the others. Of course we will work together, how can we have an epic quest if we don't stand together as heroes of legend. Oh, of course we will have some internal struggles to add seasoning, but I am certain they can be resolved with issue. As for speaking with nobles, I have been doing so since I cut my first teeth. My family is well known in our lands for our mercantile efforts and patronage network. I would be happy to help represent us.
Keith nods adding, "I about to suggest the very same, although perhaps I may be of assistance? Father was a judge and the proper forms of courtly etiquette were drummed into me as a youth. I suggest we either head off now, or wait till the morning. It wouldn't do to drag the Barron away from his victuals or gods forbid, his bed."
Ûzorgráng follows Julius' lead and pays for a private room and bath for a week , and also freshens up and has a good meal. He left his guisarme and backpack in his room. Somehow he gave all his weapons and armour a good cleaning. He listens attentively to both Julius and Ashar before saying anything.
"Bandits first. One bandit is flimsy, but many are dangerous. We can get extra money for capturing some. They should have supplies and useful local information. When you thump some bandits, the others like to stop fighting and start talking. A lot. Thorgrund and Me can do a lot of the thumping."
After a brief pause, he adds solemnly: "I'm good at thumping, but not fancy talking. You might have noticed that. Ashar and Keith should talk to the Baron. I'm good at looking impressive. That's why I have been giving my weapons a good polish." He points proudly to his now glistening spiked chain, Varguthauk, and continues "And anyway, if I stand there looking formidable and say nothing, we might all get better pay and terms."
When Ashar was distracted by the golden cow, Shyr smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Why so quiet Ashar? Surprised that one of your tales actually turned out to be true?"
She smiles warmly at Throgrund when Ûzorgráng introduces him. "Well met Throgrund Stormcloud. Don't mind Ashar, he sees everything as the makings of a great tale."
After sitting down and listening to Julius Shyr spoke. "I agree with your plan. Best to handle the smaller threats first. Althoguh I can wield the scimitair of our goddess with proficiency, so you can count my blade as well. As for talking, We seem to already have good negotiaters among us. I don't know the customs of these lands, so it is best I do not come along and accidentaly insult the baron."