"Isn't Dwarven Dense Metal basically just a drum circle?"
Jexen is thoroughly confused.
Is this dwarven humour?
T.A.S. whispers to the equally confused Jexen: "Whatever this Dwarven Metal is, I'm pretty sure the townsfolk are happy not to know it.
The old man happily jaunts into the Bloody Stump ahead of you, and by the time you enter the inn, he's already at the bar chatting up the woman on the other side of the bar.
The woman is rather distinct; she is of considerable size with the muscles to rival a body builder. She's missing one arm just below the shoulder. And she's loud and boistrous with a ready smile.
She laughs at something said to her, and then looks up at you, the smile still on her face and a gleam of "they'll be perfect" in her eyes.
She waves you over to the bar, and upon arrival says, I hear you all have a penchant for solving problems. Well, I've got a problem that needs solving.
There's a strong fued between our smith and our sawmill owner, Clyde. And it's starting to cause problems in the town. The smith says Clyde's boys stole something from his shop. And the day before yesterday, the two boys went missing. Clyde swears the smith did it.
Now, I don't know ow if the boys are guilty or not, but Clyde is a good man. He's hard working and honest, and he has raised his boys to be the same.
The smith, however, I don't trust. He’s odd, unfriendly, and secretive. Some people claim to have seen him skulking about near the woods at night.
What do you think? Can you help?
Following behind the old man Slugoth enters the building and heads to the bar. After hearing the request, "I don't see why we couldn't look into it."
"What is the smith's name?"
"Aye, there are drums involved, but it's mostly about the deep vocals and skill on string instruments."
Sköllji is imitating a sick riff from his favorite band, Ultradüm, on air lute when the tower of a woman speaks.
"Aye, we could 'elp ye. What's the coin like?"
His name is Islavar, she says. And my name is Jex. I run this dump, she gestures to the inn and bar.
Upon hearing Sköllji inquire about coin, she has a look of slight shock on her face, You'd let a couple of good boys go missing based on a few coins? Turning to the old man who came with you, she says, I thought you said these folk were of good heart.
Well.. he says, They did risk their lives to fight of the bandits of the Old Wood.
Her composure returns to normal, and she says, Well, I might he able to scrounge up something. But we ain't rich around here. Most work as lumberjacks, and those that don't just help run the town, much like myself. Lost my arm to a lumber accident, and I've been trying to run this old inn ever since. But I can ask around. See if folks will donate to the cause. Ain't promising much.
Tell you what, you lot can stay here for free while you're investigating. I got a few rooms open in the flop house.
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It was with a smile that Cynerik nodded, glad to have all his companions be willing to join him on such a venture now. Over the time they spent in Fletcher's Rest, it seemed his instincts were correct about their potential. Some grew in combative skill, fighting even better than they did before when they were travelling through the woods. T.A.S. and Brinda began to manifest the powers of magic, arcane energy flowing through their fingertips as learned more from the tattered tome of power. Cynerik felt his connection to the divine grow ever greater and a renewed purpose reinvigorated the worn-down man. He had a greater spring to his step and the somber aura around him seemed dissipated for the time being. Cynerik even dared to be hopeful for the future.
When it was time to leave the small village, Cynerik prayed for the Martyr's blessing once more before heading off with the others into the forest and off to the next venture. He looked back only once, staring at the place and considering that maybe, when his task was done, this would be a good place to rest and die within. There were certainly worst places to die in.
Jexen mentions that the group would be formidable and Cynerik was inclined to agree with him, walking up and beside the Clockwork. "Indeed, we will be. Yet we must remember that one victory does not make us masters by any means. Caution, care, and skill will keep us safe." His voice dropped a little lower, looking off into the horizon. "Yet...I feel that things will just be getting more challenging. I can't describe it but...I feel something. Something on the edge, something wrong. Maybe I'm just being paranoid after good fortune." It was just then that the infamous trees of the forest would come into view and Cynerik could almost already feel a headache coming in. "I don't think I'm going to enjoy this place..."
Cynerik was correct in his observation; he did not like this place. The illusion of warping gave the building an almost unnatural appearance and it made the older man's mind hurt trying to see them as they were supposed to be. The streets were empty now though and their charge would thank them for the escort, mentioning that he was going to stay at the Bloody Stump. "Charming name." Cynerik murmured, walking with the rest into the inn. His eyes looked around the establishment, taking in the jovial crowd and the merry music being played up at the stage in the corner.
Sköllji's comment brings a weak smile to Cynerik's face, his head shaking as he murmured to them. "And have them steal away from the glorious criticism that is you, my friend? That would be a terrible shame." Brinda's laugh catches him off-guard, his eyes looking at the tired girl. She stifles it down to a dull, bubbling series of giggles and a brighter smile would spread across Cynerik's face. "It is good to hear you laugh, Brinda." It was an earnest statement, he had been worried about how deeply she was investing into that magical book.
Cynerik's eyes finally rest on the woman that was there on the other side, muscular beyond belief and just missing an arm below the shoulder. It was Cynerik's moment to laugh out loud as the tavern's name and possible owner all clicked together. Nothing like a woman with a sense of humor about tragic events. Cynerik would approach as she beckoned them to her and he would begin to listen to the problem that the town was having. Two boys were missing as well as missing tools from a smith's shop. The former was of greater importance than the latter; such actions could make a town tear itself.
He listened to the woman's explanation about the parties involved before he began to think it over. One of them was well-known, trusted, and well-regarded it would seem. The other was an unknown, the most likely suspect or the easiest scapegoat to blame things upon. Before he could speak up, the others pitched in their thoughts and it did him proud to see Slugoth and and Kandl seem to volunteer to look into it. Sköllji's question is more in line with what he expected but he didn't hold it against the man either; what good was kindness if they starved to death.
The look of shock on her face was just as expected, the dwarf's bluntness on being paid was not the most tactful of bargaining. It made sense with the kind of history he had been told in regards to what the man had done before he joined with them. Jex would explain the situation and the amount that they could pay them for their assistance and Cynerik would nod, thinking that a few open rooms for free and payment was exactly what they were looking for.
"We just need to make sure that we can continue to travel and help out Jex, just like you are doing here. I apologize for my friend's bluntness but our venture's beginning started in tragedy, our opportunities are small and we are wishing to make a change for the better in the North, Martyr's hope anyways." Cynerik says, looking to her arm. "I am sorry for your arm but I appreciate the name of the inn. You're good people, I can tell. We'll look into this for a small bit of coin and a free stay. Sound fair?" He would offer his hand out to her, making sure it was on the side that she actually had an arm.
Sounds fair, Jex says, shaking your hand.
Let me show you your rooms.
She takes out out back to a separate building, which looks like an dold barn converted to a series of rooms. A rough wooden floor has been installed over the typical dirt floor of a barn, and five foot high walls have been installed throughout the interior in order to make a series of semi-private rooms.
Most of the rooms have already been taken. A lot of caravans stop in this town; we've got a good reputation for having cleean accommodations and good food. We don't serve breakfast or lunch, but dinner will be a bit before sunset. Might be a bit left if you're still hungry.
She takes you to the back of the barn, and says, There's three left, and they're all yours.
Slugoth inspects the accommodation, "Well its no haunted tower in the middle of the woods but it will do," he says with a smile.
Kandl chuckles at Slugoth's comment.
At the mention of missing children, Brinda's goes pale. "Missing children? We must find them," she says, turning to Cynerik, her gaze intense and determined. Once Cynerik and Slugoth voice their intent to investigate, she visibly relaxes somewhat.
Once shown to the rooms, Brinda finds a bed and takes out the magical tome immediately.
Once shown your rooms, some settle in, some grab a beer, some mingle with the dwindling crowd. The locals all leave around sunset, and those who remain are a part of a single caravan that has stopped for the night.
You still learn from mingling. Half the twenty people living in Cheqwood work as lumberjacks, culling the cheqwood and other trees from the nearby forest and delivering timber to Clyde for milling into planks. The town ships out the lumber to larger communities in the province. People not working as woodcutters have jobs in town, supporting the industry. Everyone except for the smith is human, with strong ties to the Old Faith, and a tendency toward superstition.
The smith is an elf. You may or may not have ever seen one of the Faerie folk, but you've definitely heard of them. Some of you may have only ever heard of them in stories, whereas others have a racial history with them even if they haven't personally met an elf.
You also hear that no new caravans have stopped in this town for a month, ever since there was an attack on one a few weeks ago. This caravan has taken the risk, but still doesn't want to stay long. They'll be leaving in the morning.
After everyone heads to bed, you all wake up when the rooster crows, just as the first lights start to appear on the horizon (except that one rooster. Who started just before the first light). Some may have a hangover. Or maybe you're all refreshed. Eighter way, it's a new dawn.
Brinda settles in with the book, avoiding the taproom for now. However, after an hour or so of studying it on her bed, she starts to feel restless. She has been poring over magical theory dealing with shadow and darkness, and feels the pull of the darkness outside. She gathers her cloak and heads outside for a walk around the town.
It's fairly dark, the only light coming from the stars and the crescent moon. No one else is out this later at night. You occasionally hear a dog barking or a horse neighing.
Other than learning the general layout of the town, you don't learn much about the case from your wanderings. But it is nice to have a walk in the cooler air.
After the group arrived in the inn and every had his bed, T.A.S. asked Jex where he could find the smith. The rest of the night he spent in the in. He talks to some of the townsfolk but as more and more of them head home, he retreats to his room. There he checks the functionality of his crossbow before he lays down on the bed to get some rest.
The next morning he stands up early and heads out for the smith with the bag under his arm. He knocks at his door and introduces himself: Hello. Thegnack, the dwarf, sends me to bring you this bag. My name is T.A.S."
Sköllji goes with T.A.S. to see the blacksmith.
May as well get that last favor for Garrote done, since it fell into me lap an all...
TAS and Sköllji both head towards the Smith's while the sun is just rising.
It's takes a bit before someone answers, and it's not what you expect at all.
The front door has a sigil crudely painted on it.
The elf standing at the door is covered in red leathers, from his boots to his arms and even a red leather mask over his mouth. He has pale skin and long white hair.
I have been waiting for this, he says in a raspy voice. Thank you for bringing it to me. After taking the bag, he turns back into his shop and starts preparing for work.
Brinda gives a nervous laugh as the smith opens the door, then clamps her mouth shut, her eyes still wide.
Note that he didn't shut the door behind him. You're free to walk in, or to ask questions, or close the door and leave. Or what have you.
He simply turned and stopped paying attention to you.
Slugoth follows T.A.S. and the others to the smith's work shop, when the elf opens the door he is surprised at the elf's appearance. Well thats not what I was expecting, although, I don't know what I should have been expecting, Slugoth thought to himself.
As the elf turn and walk deeper into Slugoth steps through the door and stops just inside it.
Once inside the shop, it's easy to tell this is no ordinary blacksmith.
The building’s front half is an open-air workshop, with a couple tables, covered in tools, and a few unfinished pieces in wood and bone. He has no complete weapons, but it is easy to tell that all pieces he has are made from bone and wood - specifically Cheqwood.
There is a single door near the back left of the shop that leads further into the building, but it is currently closed. The elf places the bag of "flour" on one of the work benches.
T.A.S. tries not to show any confusion about the smith's appearence. The dwarf did not tell him about that detail.
"Ah yeah, I have to apologise. Our caravan was attacked and the people slaughtered - business as usual. We missed you by only a few days in Fletcher's rest after we had to fight off a few more bandits. But uh, now you got your package."
T.A.S. looks a bit helpless at his allies, not knowning how to address the town's suspicion that the smith is responsible for the missing kids.
When Jex speaks, Jexen listens.
Eventually, he says:
"If the boys can be found, we will find them."
In the rooms, he says:
"I am going to go and speak with the sawmill owner. Will any join me?"
In the morning, Cynerik was just finishing getting his armor and weaponry settled upon his form when Jexen spoke up about going and speaking with the sawmill owner. T.A.S. and the other seemed determined to go and speak to the blacksmith owner. "Enough people going that direction.
"I'll join you Jexen. We'll get some questions sorted and get an idea of where to go next." He looked back at the others, smiling at them. "Make sure the smith doesn't feel threatened. Just ask some questions when you get there; when he last saw the boys, what they took, how long he has been here, so on and so forth. Follow-up questions will come naturally. Just...be careful, everyone." Cynerik had never met an elf and he wouldn't know what to expect
"I'm ready when you are Jexen." Cynerik would say before heading out in the morning, on his way towards the sawmill.
[ooc]I hope that helps, other side of the party! get out there and ask the hard questions! :D
As the sun rises, the village becomes busy. Roosters continue to grow, horses neigh, goats bleet. You can start to heal people moving about, getting ready for their daily jaunt into the woods.
Outside of the mill, a man with a limp walks to a chicken coop to gather some eggs. As you get closer, you see he wears an eye patch over one eye.
"So, I see you work mainly in wood and bone, odd that they refer to you as a 'smith'. Is all of your work based on commission or do you keep stock for sale that I might be able to look at, your work is most impressive."
In the morning, Kandl rose and began his morning the same way he had been doing so in Fletcher's Rest: with exercise. He spent some time lifting weights, then running and finally with blade practice.
He noticed the rest of the group headed off to different locations, and so he decided to actually go take a look at the track out of town that the boys would have taken.
"I appreciate that, Cynerik. Let us go."
Jexen approaches the limping figure, his own sword and shield on his back.
"Excuse me sir. Are you Clyde, the owner of the sawmill?"
Yes, he says in a raspy voice, I mostly work with bone and wood. The Cheqwood is particularly special and helps in the unique quality of my weapons. Unfortunately, I do not have any to sell. Two little thieves have stolen all of my weapons and my bones.
I am not only unable to present my weapons to you, I am not even able to make a new one until I get some more bones. And they are hard to come by. Once I get my hands on those boys, I will be able to recover my wares.
Kandl does not see any evidence of the boys on the road, but there are plenty of locals to speak with or question.
"Not right now. I would ask of your sons."
I feel awful for asking the man but we need the help.
Kandl will stop and ask the lumberjacks tracking down the trail in both directions if any of them have seen the group's targets.
One man says, Clyde's boys? Yeah, they went missing a day or so back. But they're coming of age, and boys like that tend to go out into the woods for days on end. I did when I was a lad. They'll be fine. Just like I told Clyde, give it a few days, they'll turn up.
Another says, Old Clyde and the Bonesmith, he pauses to feature a symbol warding off evil at the mention of the Bonesmith, [/b]got into a fight in the street yesterday. Not fists, mind you, but a yelling match. The Bonesmith accused the boys of stealing something from him, and Clyde denied it utmost. I'd believe Clyde. Thems boys are good boys. They wouldn't do nothing like that. But anyways, the Bonesmith said he'd have them boys hides for it. [/b]
And another: We had a druid come by a bit ago, dun said the waters here we're cursed. Not long after, Old Mary's dog stopped barken. Not long after, that caravan was attacked by them femur things. Most caravans don come through no more. Must've come from the waters. Must've been the same thing that took them boys.
And another: The old Cheqwood Copse is cursed. Same spirits been terrorizin' us good honest folk out here. I think them boys got caught up by them spirits and got their souls sucked right out of em. Poor boys.
And another: Ya know, they ain't the first ones to've gone missing. Jex's little girl went missing a few months back. Ol' Jex went out to look for her, but could never find her. Some say the old spirit by the haunted ruins took her.
Upon inquiring for information, he says, It's that f!*~ing Bonesmith, I tell you. You gunno string him up? Getting him to confess? Only reason I ain't beat the truth outs him myself is cause Jex promised she'd take care of it. She the reason you here?
I wish my face could show sympathy more obviously. But it is only vaguely like a man's.
"A coincidence. I am Jexen, and this is one of my companions, Cynerik Salt. We seek your boys on Jex's request. When did you last see them?"
Kandl will get directions to Jex's home, then head back to meet the others.
But I care not for the boys. I simply want my weapons and bones back. Do this for me, and I will leave this town.
Do you know where they are?
Investigating the area outside, near a side window that looks into the workshop, you see three sets of footprints, one child sized.
Two sets head off to follow a small game trail toward the Old Ruin.
The last heads around the back of the building and toward the sawmill.
In addition, a set of greasy, child-sized palm prints are smudged near the bottom of the window’s glass.
Brinda looks around the area beside the building, noting the foot and hand prints. She curls her lip as she does so. This proves nothing. His materials could have been stolen by anyone - or anything - with small hands and feet. Still, they may be useful in our investigation.
"TAS," she calls out. "You should come see this."
"I do not, unfortunately. Why would the Bonesmith lie about your boys? And if weapons were taken, is there anyone else who would steal them to stir trouble?"
Feel free to have a look around the house, if it'll help you find my boys.
From outside, you hear Brinda calling, T.A.S., you should come see this!.
"It might. We will look around and perhaps we may see a clue.", Jexen replies, attempting to sound sympathetic.
They've been known to wear human skin as clothing, and have been known to use blood to paint demonic sigils on their clothing, shields, or even their own bodies.