Not too satisfied with her first shot, Jinjer concentrates, adjusts her breathing, and smoothly releases the next two...grunting in approval at the results.
"Ah." Tarrana looked about as if seeing the masks for the first time. "The spirits do vex me so. I really have little idea what's going on. Perhaps you can show me where there's some entertainment while we wait for this proposition your other companion has for us?"
Gaius continues to wander through the temple. Apparently he mistook some masked strangers for his companions from the Flail.
After a few minutes he growes restive being under a roof and walks out under the sky. He wanders the festival, talking to some, watching the games and races, but feeling he is missing something. The air feeling heavy, pressing on his skin.
1d20
1d20
1d20Not too satisfied with her first shot, Jinjer concentrates, adjusts her breathing, and smoothly releases the next two...grunting in approval at the results.
With a bullseye and a shot into the 2nd ring in, you rack up a total of 13 points. Your opponents each take their shots in turn.
The first two contestants pull in 7 and 8 points respectively, with the last one tying your score of 13. Once again you have a tie-breaking arrow to determine a winner.
This fellow is also tall and lanky, but age has thickened him around the middle. He has a wolf mask pushed up on the top of his head, allowing you to see his face. Years of sun have darkened and lined his face beyond his years, but you guess he is middle-aged for a human. His graying hair is shaggy but his face is clean-shaven. Eyeing you with what seems to be a permanent squint, he accepts his arrow from the judge.
"Looks like it's up to me to defend the family honor, seeing as how you've already taken my son out of the competition. I'll let you have the first shot."
Gaius continues to wander through the temple. Apparently he mistook some masked strangers for his companions from the Flail.
After a few minutes he growes restive being under a roof and walks out under the sky. He wanders the festival, talking to some, watching the games and races, but feeling he is missing something. The air feeling heavy, pressing on his skin.
The chapel itself is rather small, so no doubt Gaius feels confined. Out in the open air, the majority of the town is enjoying itself. The smell of cooking meats wafts through the air; you can see food being carried out of the inn and placed on tables set up in front of the building and along the lane.
perception
'Ah the fresh air..<Cough> <hack> %$@( cookfire!"
"Looks like it's up to me to defend the family honor, seeing as how you've already taken my son out of the competition. I'll let you have the first shot."
Jinjer chuckles and says, as she accepts her arrow, "If he learned from you, I think this may be my last round."
And then she faces the target, nocks the arrow, aims, and lets fly.
perception 1d20+6
'Ah the fresh air..<Cough> <hack> %$@( cookfire!"
Waving a hand to clear the smoke from your face, your gaze settles on an unusual trio of folk at a table outside the inn.
An unusually burly gnome drops an enormous pack to the ground with an audible thud, letting out a gusty sigh of relief. The pack, easily half again the height of the gnome, is crafted of canvas and near to bursting. It is also festooned with various gear hanging from loops and hooks on the outside of the pack.
To the gnome's right is a tall, slender woman with thick black hair that hangs to her waist. She wears a thick woolen cloak of dove gray, lined with black ermine fur. She has already donned a mask of white wood, carved into a smiling elven face, with severe almond eyes and great, sweeping pointed ears.
Across from the woman is a tall lean man in traveling leathers. He holds a gnarled staff of age-darkened wood in one hand and a tankard in the other. The only feature you can see of him is his close-cropped hair, jet black peppered with steel gray. He wears a fur-trimmed leather mask crafted into the visage of a snarling wolf.
Your attention is held by the man for several long moments. There is something about him, like watching thunderheads form in the high peaks in summer, as if there were tangible forces swirling about him. You snap out of your reverie to realize that he's looking out across the green in your direction. You can't see his eyes due to the mask and the distance, but you'd swear he's looking directly at you.
"Looks like it's up to me to defend the family honor, seeing as how you've already taken my son out of the competition. I'll let you have the first shot."Jinjer chuckles and says, as she accepts her arrow, "If he learned from you, I think this may be my last round."
And then she faces the target, nocks the arrow, aims, and lets fly.
1d20
Your arrow goes high, hitting the innermost ring just above the center. A fine shot that draws cheer from the crowd.
Then the older fellow steps up to take aim.
"I dunno about that. You're a fair shot, to be sure."
He then draws his bow, exhales a long breath, and lets fly.
His arrow strikes dead center. More cheers, and the judge declares him the winner, handing him a pouch of coin. He thanks the judge and then turns to you, offering his hand.
"Good show. Not to worry though. Keep coming back, and I'd bet you'll be improving with each passing year while I get worse. Age will do that." With a wry grin, he steps aside to wait while the targets are moved back again.
Jinjer sighs when the man's arrow nails the bullseye, but accepts his hand without saying a word. She gives him a nod of respect and then walks away...looking for a beer at the drink table.
From there, Jinjer will move on around the festival, but she won't be on anything else - instead she is looking for somewhere to eat and will ask someone who is not wearing a mask to recommend a place.
Waving a hand to clear the smoke from your face, your gaze settles on an unusual trio of folk at a table outside the inn.
An unusually burly gnome drops an enormous pack to the ground with an audible thud, letting out a gusty sigh of relief. The pack, easily half again the height of the gnome, is crafted of canvas and near to bursting. It is also festooned with various gear hanging from loops and hooks on the outside of the pack.
To the gnome's right is a tall, slender woman with thick black hair that hangs to her waist. She wears a thick woolen cloak of dove gray, lined with black ermine fur. She has already donned a mask of white wood, carved into a smiling elven face, with severe almond eyes and great, sweeping pointed ears.
Across from the woman is a tall lean man in traveling leathers. He holds a gnarled staff of age-darkened wood in one hand and a tankard in the other. The only feature you can see of him is his close-cropped hair, jet black peppered with steel gray. He wears a fur-trimmed leather mask crafted into the visage of a snarling wolf.
Your attention is held by the man for several long moments. There is something about him, like watching thunderheads form in the high peaks in summer, as if there were tangible forces swirling about him. You snap out of your reverie to realize that he's looking out across the green in your direction. You can't see his eyes due to the mask and the distance, but you'd swear he's looking directly at you.
Gaius returns the strangers stare holding his gaze as he walks calmly towards them. When he reaches the group he bows.
"Please allow me to welcome you to the festival. I am somewhat of a stranger here but not so newly arrived as yourselves."Here he gestures to the gnomes burden.
"Pray allow me to repay the welcome granted to me by passing that welcome on to you. My name is Giaus, how may I serve you."
He regards the members of the odd group evenly a smile visible under his half mask harlequin patterned in blue and gray
The woman glances sidelong at the man in the wolf mask.
"This one has manners," she says, playfully. The man turns his gaze from you to return her look, then puts his attention back on you, blue steel eyes meeting yours.
"Indeed. And a touch of power, mayhap...something about the way he carries himself."
There is a grunt, followed by a heady odor and a relieved sigh, as the beefy gnome yanks his left boot free. He tips it upside down and several bits of rock tumble out.
"You realize he's standing right in front of you, yes?" He looks up to give you a grin and a wink before going back to his attempts to tug the right boot loose.
"Ah, yes," the man says, "My thanks for your welcome, Gaius. This is not our first trip to Dunshale, but the first in many a year. Call me Wolfe. This is my traveling companion--"
"Sable," the woman says.
"Yes," the man continues, "and this fellow here is my porter, Bast--"[/b] but the gnome holds up a finger to stop him.
"Best just refer to me as Mule," the gnome says, hoisting his rather ripe socked feet up on a nearby stool. "It's about as fitting a name as I could ask for at the moment."
Jinjer sighs when the man's arrow nails the bullseye, but accepts his hand without saying a word. She gives him a nod of respect and then walks away...looking for a beer at the drink table.
From there, Jinjer will move on around the festival, but she won't be on anything else - instead she is looking for somewhere to eat and will ask someone who is not wearing a mask to recommend a place.
Finding food is not going to be a problem, as there are tables laid out with all manner of food outside the inn. As you move off, the man in the hound mask approaches, offering you a foaming mug of ale.
"You were wantin' a drink, I think you said. Name's Landon. I'm one of the constable's deputies. Don't feel too bad. When he was younger, my da could win these things with his eyes shut."[/b]
Finding food is not going to be a problem, as there are tables laid out with all manner of food outside the inn. As you move off, the man in the hound mask approaches, offering you a foaming mug of ale.
"You were wantin' a drink, I think you said. Name's Landon. I'm one of the constable's deputies. Don't feel too bad. When he was younger, my da could win these things with his eyes shut."[/b]
Jinjer chuckles and says, "And he still can. The name's Jinjer. You a local? What can you tell me about this town?"
As the night closes in, Magnus retrieves Tuboo from where he is gnawing on a scrap of cheese left under the table by another patron of the bar, nearly knocking his cumbersome and gawdy mask off of his head as he bends over. At this point in the night, his mask, poorly assembled as it is, is now lopsided and permitting several tufts of green hair to show through. Ignorant of this fact, he stumbles his way awkwardly to the room he has reserved for the night. Cursing his sweet tooth for honeyed lagers, he distractedly begins writing in his journal for the night before disrobing and lying down to rest.
The woman glances sidelong at the man in the wolf mask.
"This one has manners," she says, playfully. The man turns his gaze from you to return her look, then puts his attention back on you, blue steel eyes meeting yours."Indeed. And a touch of power, mayhap...something about the way he carries himself."
There is a grunt, followed by a heady odor and a relieved sigh, as the beefy gnome yanks his left boot free. He tips it upside down and several bits of rock tumble out.
"You realize he's standing right in front of you, yes?" He looks up to give you a grin and a wink before going back to his attempts to tug the right boot loose.
"Ah, yes," the man says, "My thanks for your welcome, Gaius. This is not our first trip to Dunshale, but the first in many a year. Call me Wolfe. This is my traveling companion--"
"Sable," the woman says.
"Yes," the man continues, "and this fellow here is my porter, Bast--"[/b] but the gnome holds up a finger to stop him.
"Best just refer to me as Mule," the gnome says, hoisting his rather ripe socked feet up on a nearby stool. "It's about as fitting a name as I could ask for at the moment."
"Well friend 'Mule' I see a service I can render you, and any festival goers in range." Gauis smiles and absently waves a hand. There is a momentary cold breeze and the sent of the ocean, Mule finds his socks clean, dry, and feeling sun warmed.
Returning his attention to the human and his companion. "Yes I have picked up a few tricks, wandering here and there.
'Mule' favors you with a large grin. "Hey, thanks! I don't suppose you can do a good foot massage, too?" At this point, Sable interjects, addressing the gnome.
"You know the rules. The first was freely given. The second, you asked for directly. Sorry, love." 'Mule' looks a bit pouty.
Wolfe seems unimpressed. His voice lowers to a whisper as he leans forward across the table towards you, but you are still able to hear him clearly, word for word, despite the general ruckus. "A few tricks, yes, but not any wisdom, apparently. Public displays like that are dangerous, no matter how minor. You'd do well to remember that. One educated eye is likely to bring you unwanted attention. Especially here. Especially now."
As if to emphasize his point, a sudden lull falls across the crowd, sweeping over it from east to west. The reason soon becomes obvious as a troop of armed and armored dwarves can be seen traveling down the road into the village.
Jinjer chuckles and says, "And he still can. The name's Jinjer. You a local? What can you tell me about this town?"
Landon leads the way over to the food. "I'm Dunshale born and raised, Jinjer. What did you want to know?"
As if to emphasize his point, a sudden lull falls across the crowd, sweeping over it from east to west. The reason soon becomes obvious as a troop of armed and armored dwarves can be seen traveling down the road into the village.
"That's odd. Even if I were breaking the laws here It would hardly call for an armored troop. Something must be happening."
"If you will excuse me." Gaius bows to them all. "This should be interesting."
Gaius walks quickly east across the square to be nearby then the troop
reaches the festival. As I cross the square remove my mask, dispelling the cantrip on it as I do so. Keep an eye out for a replacement.
Landon leads the way over to the food. "I'm Dunshale born and raised, Jinjer. What did you want to know?"
"That's odd. Even if I were breaking the laws here It would hardly call for an armored troop. Something must be happening.""If you will excuse me." Gaius bows to them all. "This should be interesting."
Gaius walks quickly east across the square to be nearby then the troop
reaches the festival. As I cross the square remove my mask, dispelling the cantrip on it as I do so. Keep an eye out for a replacement.
You note there is a crate with spare masks sitting on a table in front of the Flask and Flail where you can dispose of your mask and grab a new one.
The dwarves move into town. There are a total of six of them. One is armored in full plate sporting a number of wicked looking spikes on the shoulders, bracers, knees, and in a crest along the helm from front to back. This figure walks beside another dwarf dressed in fur-lined brocade and wearing a breastplate. He carries no weapon but a jeweled dagger at his hip. Marching ahead and behind the two are four more dwarves, forming a square around them. These are wearing chainmail, carrying crossbows, and have axes at their hips.
Much of the activity dies down at their approach. Seeing this, the richly dressed dwarf smiles through his neatly groomed and curled beard.
"Do not mind us, good folk. I'm here simply to take part in the festivities." This announcement does little to reassure those nearby or make them resume their jovial nature. Feasting and drinking continues, but conversations are hushed and eyes constantly wander to the dwarves, who now stroll through the street at a leisurely pace.
1d20+1Landon leads the way over to the food. "I'm Dunshale born and raised, Jinjer. What did you want to know?"
You and Landon get along well, and between conversations about hunting and bowmanship, he provides the following information:
*Thane Ironfist, Jarl Rurik's vassal, runs Dunshale and the immediate environs. Unlike most Thanes, he has a mansion on the surface, south of the village.
*The village was under martial law for a couple of years. Those were bad times. Even now, tensions still run high.
*Martial law was declared when the Thane's son, Grundar, was murdered in the Flask and Flail five years ago.
*Grundar was revived by a cleric of Baal from the Jarl's fastness, at the Thane's request.
*Grundar is a right bastard. No one but the dwarves were saddened at his passing. He enjoys lording his position over the village folk. Only now he does it with armed guards at his back.
*The day that Grundar was murdered, the Inquisition executed a pair of traitors, a fiend-blooded woman and her husband. They were burned at the stake on a hillside north of town. The hilltop is still blackened and nothing grows there any more. Folk say the spirits of the two still haunt the place.
As Landon is relating Grundar's tale to you, your attention is drawn to a group of dwarves moving around the green.
"Speak of the devil," says Landon, "there he is. Just in time to ruin the party."
"Do not mind us, good folk. I'm here simply to take part in the festivities." This announcement does little to reassure those nearby or make them resume their jovial nature. Feasting and drinking continues, but conversations are hushed and eyes constantly wander to the dwarves, who now stroll through the street at a leisurely pace.
Grab a full face mask and a domino or small half face. Both masks are selected to cover the forehead/hairline. Wear the full over the smaller if I can otherwise the small goes into my cloak.
Follow the pocket army. Try to see what they are looking for.
sleeping perception check (made at minus 10 for sleep) to become aware of the changes going on around me.
sleeping perception check (made at minus 10 for sleep) to become aware of the changes going on around me. 1d20-4
sleeping perception check (made at minus 10 for sleep) to become aware of the changes going on around me. 1d20-4
Magnus pauses before taking the first sip of his honeyed lager as the dwarves pass by. It is evident to him that this is a high ranking noble and his aides. Curious about this, he follows with his eyes for a short time. After they pass by, he has inferred that this is not a usual occurrence and that we are expected to be honoured by the presence of these royal-types. Never one to leave a mystery unsolved, I follow at a respectful distance. If they do not stop to speak to a town official, I take it upon myself to respectfully bow to the side of the group so as not to prevent their progressing.
"Sir, I believe I speak for the people of Dunshale when I say that we are surprised by your attendance. If I may be so bold, may I ask why you have chosen to join us humble folk in celebration of High Harvest when a man of your stature...
... could have his pick of any grand celebration.
At your approach the four dwarven warriors acting as bodyguard regard you warily, their crossbows down but at the ready.
The well-dressed dwarf turns to regard you a moment before answering.
"One might ask you the same question. Your people are always welcome in our halls, and you could well be feasting with my brethren in grand style tomorrow night, rather than soaking in such...rustic charm. I simply like to remind the villagers from time to time of the reason for their good fortune: the guidance of my father, the Thane."
At your approach the four dwarven warriors acting as bodyguard regard you warily, their crossbows down but at the ready.
The well-dressed dwarf turns to regard you a moment before answering.
"One might ask you the same question. Your people are always welcome in our halls, and you could well be feasting with my brethren in grand style tomorrow night, rather than soaking in such...rustic charm. I simply like to remind the villagers from time to time of the reason for their good fortune: the guidance of my father, the Thane."
"Indeed good sir. I suppose my answer to the question would be that a person must explore all aspects and all points of view in order to truly understand the privilege that our heritage grants us. I realize this is incredibly bold, but may I offer you my company for a time tonight? I would very much like to discuss further and learn from you."
Diplomacy check
Stilgar would exchange small talk with one of the locals, before wandering around again, sifting through the crowd. He was certain that he would have to stay up all night to get the place cleaned up afterward; not that he necessarily minded. Keeping his eyes and ears open, Stilgar would continue to attend to his duties, mindful of his surroundings, lest he see another familiar face.
Perception:
You and Landon get along well, and between conversations about hunting and bowmanship, he provides the following information:
** spoiler omitted **
As Landon is relating Grundar's tale to you, your attention is drawn to a group of dwarves moving around the green.
"Speak of the devil," says Landon, "there he is. Just in time to ruin the party."
Noting the arrival of the Thane's son...and then watching Magnus interacting with the dwarven royal, Jinjer whispers to Landon, "Why is Magnus licking Grundar's balls tonight? Perhaps he's drunk..."
Jinjer watches the interaction, and will then follow Grundar and his men regardless of where they go, confident that they won't notice her.
After she is satisfied that they are not here for other reasons than to see how the common folk live, she will find Magnus and ask him some questions.
"You are welcome to come with me, Landon...if you wish." she whispers, never taking her eyes off of the dwarves.
If successful in his diplomatic actions, Magnus will attempt to gently guide the dwarven group away from more public areas. Perhaps out of town towards the hillside. In any case, his plan is to keep the group out of the public eye as much as possible, so that other people might enjoy the festival with less tension.
Once I leave the company of the royalty, I speak to Jinjer. " What?, I took one for the team. Besides, It's never a bad thing to try and persuade a royal to see things through the commoner's point of view. ugh... I feel a bit dirty, where's my drink? "
Stilgar: You're not stuck in the chapel by any means. While it is normal to hold a small service during the day, most of the celebration stays outdoors, weather permitting. Feel free to close up and go abroad as you wish.
Jinjer: "If it's all the same to you, darlin'," Landon replies, "I'll just take the rest of my celebration as far from that lot as I can. Find me later, if you like." With a nod of his head, he leaves you to your snooping. You're able to shadow the group during their time in the village without drawing any attention from them.
Magnus: Your new companion is Grundar Ironfist, son of the local Thane. He introduces his companion as Morgrim Thrallhammer, a captain in the Jarl's forces.
After a few minutes of talking to him, he seems to warm to you. The first part of your conversation is interrupted by Grundar breaking in on various locals and making "small talk." He tends to question people about their livelihood, baiting and trapping them with leading questions that bring them to positions where their loyalty is called into question. He seems to genuinely enjoy making them squirm.
Eventually you are able to distract him from his routine and involve him in direct conversation with you for the majority of the time. It is quite clear to you after your conversation with him that he feels the humans of Dunshale should know their place and respect their betters, namely him. It appalls him that humans should be discontent with their lot when dwarves ply their might to keep the lands safe and prosperous.
When he discovers you've been "loaned" to the local Seer while your master is indisposed, he seems to take pity on you. He insists that you be his guest at the Jarl's Harvest feast tomorrow evening (the dwarves celebrate High Harvest the day after humans.) Eventually he decides to return to his father's manor after thanking you for entertaining him. If nothing else, you've managed to distract him from ruining the holiday for too many villagers.
Once I leave the company of the royalty, I speak to Jinjer. " What?, I took one for the team. Besides, It's never a bad thing to try and persuade a royal to see things through the commoner's point of view. ugh... I feel a bit dirty, where's my drink? "
"What was he doing here anyway? Mingling with the low-born?" Jinjer growls, her voice laced with sarcasm. "I heard he died in this town awhile back. Wonder how that happened?"
During my conversation with Grundar, I attempt subtly to plant the seed of an idea in his mind that perhaps humans are not all that different from dwarves or other races.
"... We all have roughly two arms and two legs, two eyes and one nose. We all have families that we care for. There are undeniable similarities, Sir Ironfist. There is no shame and no disloyalty in acknowledging reality."
Realizing that changing a person's most integrated personality traits takes time, I take a step back in order to cement my friendship and reaffirm the progress I have made without pushing him too far. "...but of course, there are measureable differences and ways in which we are certainly better than each other as a race. Gnomes for example, have a connection with nature that dwarves do not...
At this, I speak to Tuboo and have him perform a small bow to Ironfist.
"...Dwarves have a natural heartiness and talent at the forge. I need not remind you of the quality of the architecture and blacksmithery of dwarvenkind. In short, we are not better or worse, only different." I thank him for his offer to allow me to join him tomorrow and I request that I be permitted to bring a guest or two along with me. If prompted, I say I have not decided upon who, but it will most assuredly be someone who will be most appreciative and respectful of the company and hospitality.
After this, I pound back two or three pints in a short time and speak to Jinjer.
After this, I pound back two or three pints in a short time and speak to Jinjer.
** spoiler omitted **
Nothing solid. What do you have in mind?
Jinjer:
Magnus: Grundar puts up with your defense of humans only so far, and it is your deft maneuvering of the conversation that prevents an ugly incident. When you begin to compare humans and dwarves, his lip curls into an ugly sneer and he turns on you angrily, saying:
"The difference is that these gangly dirtcrawlers have no sense of honor nor of gratitude! We rooted out a fiend living in their midst, one that could have laid every last one of them out and turned them to ash. That same day one of them stuck blades in my back and left me to bleed out on the floor! I never even saw his face. Do not compare me to such a creature!"
You manage to calm him down and return him to a better mood by the end of your conversation, but his loathing of humankind was obvious in that moment.
Jinjer:
"I'm not entirely certain just yet what I am planning, but if you can meet me up by the hillside in the morning, we might have something to do" At this point, Magnus pounds back a couple more drinks and heads out of the bar, searching for someone.
Perception
Magnus seeks for a face in the crowd. He is searching for Willem from earlier today. If he cannot see the boy himself, he will look for the aid of those around him.
Diplomacy
If he is successful he speaks to Willem and his Father: "I have a proposal for you. A wager of sorts. I have been invited to the Harvest feast tomorrow and you, Willem shall be my guest. If you accept, then we will meet tomorrow by the hillside you pointed out to me earlier. You know the one? If this works, you won't have to worry about the way people treat you for your race anymore. All you need to do is exactly what I say. If I win and you have a good time at the feast and people treat you better, I'd like to borrow Sunset from you for a journey I have coming up. If you win and something goes wrong, I'll make it my duty to pay it back to you. What do you say?
diplomacy
Having been trapped in the confines of the chapel for some time, Stilgar would opt to go outside to get a breath of fresh air. He was sure that the people within could tend to themselves for the time being. Now in front of the building, Stilgar would look over the crowd, observing the livelihood of Dunshale's inhabitants. As always, he kept an eye out for anything out of place, lest someone happened to have one too many drinks and start a ruckus.
Perception:
"I'm not entirely certain just yet what I am planning, but if you can meet me up by the hillside in the morning, we might have something to do"
You mean the hillside where they burned the two people who supposedly killed Grundar? Yeah, I'll be there. Been wanting to have a look see up there anyway.
Jinjer gives Magnus a nod and goes off in search of something to eat.
"Ah." Tarrana looked about as if seeing the masks for the first time. "The spirits do vex me so. I really have little idea what's going on. Perhaps you can show me where there's some entertainment while we wait for this proposition your other companion has for us?"
"Hah, the fun's where ya make it, girl," Brodgar quips. "Things're a mite stuffy in here though, an' I could do with a bit o' the harvest to sop up what I've already drunk!" He takes a few steps towards the door before adding, "What I'm sayin' is why don't we find somethin' to eat? Probably a bit more fun'n'games out there, too."
Perception
"Ah." Tarrana looked about as if seeing the masks for the first time. "The spirits do vex me so. I really have little idea what's going on. Perhaps you can show me where there's some entertainment while we wait for this proposition your other companion has for us?""Hah, the fun's where ya make it, girl," Brodgar quips. "Things're a mite stuffy in here though, an' I could do with a bit o' the harvest to sop up what I've already drunk!" He takes a few steps towards the door before adding, "What I'm sayin' is why don't we find somethin' to eat? Probably a bit more fun'n'games out there, too."
Perception
1d20+7
Tarrana follows closely behind trying to ignore the stares, both real and percieved. "I do not suppose you know what task I've been called for? The spirits here seem greatly troubled despite this celebration given in their name."
"I'm not entirely certain just yet what I am planning, but if you can meet me up by the hillside in the morning, we might have something to do" At this point, Magnus pounds back a couple more drinks and heads out of the bar, searching for someone.
1d20+6 Perception
Magnus seeks for a face in the crowd. He is searching for Willem from earlier today. If he cannot see the boy himself, he will look for the aid of those around him.
1d20+8 Diplomacy
If he is successful he speaks to Willem and his Father: "I have a proposal for you. A wager of sorts. I have been invited to the Harvest feast tomorrow and you, Willem shall be my guest. If you accept, then we will meet tomorrow by the hillside you pointed out to me earlier. You know the one? If this works, you won't have to worry about the way people treat you for your race anymore. All you need to do is exactly what I say. If I win and you have a good time at the feast and people treat you better, I'd like to borrow Sunset from you for a journey I have coming up. If you win and something goes wrong, I'll make it my duty to pay it back to you. What do you say?
1d20+8 diplomacy
You eventually find the young man playing games with friends. He goes with you to find his parents, finding them sitting on the green in conversation with other folk. At the suggestion of taking Willem to the fastness for the dwarven feast, they seem appalled. Although you do your best to convince them, they are steadfastly against the idea and refuse to even consider it.
Defeated, you are about to turn away when Annah, the boy's mother, moves up and takes you aside from the others, who are abuzz in conversation about your idea.
"Good sir, I'm sure you mean well, but you don't seem to understand how we live here. While your people are in good graces with the stout folk, and seen as kin, we are not. Years ago things were better, but even then the Thane's son held a deep hate for us. Then he was killed by one of us. That cut the Thane deep, and with his boy brought back, things are twice as bad as they were before. It's best we just go about our business and try to live our lives as best we can. My boy's a good lad, but I won't toss him to the wolves and expect that goodness to save him. 'Sides, if you were to bring a human to the Jarl's table, he might take it as an insult. The Thane surely will. I'm sorry, but he's my son and I won't see him come to any harm that I can prevent."
Having been trapped in the confines of the chapel for some time, Stilgar would opt to go outside to get a breath of fresh air. He was sure that the people within could tend to themselves for the time being. Now in front of the building, Stilgar would look over the crowd, observing the livelihood of Dunshale's inhabitants. As always, he kept an eye out for anything out of place, lest someone happened to have one too many drinks and start a ruckus.
Perception: 1d20+2
You don't notice anything wrong as you make your way through the village, however, you do note some snippets of conversation concerning the appearance of the Thane's son having put a bit of a damper on things for a while.
"Ah." Tarrana looked about as if seeing the masks for the first time. "The spirits do vex me so. I really have little idea what's going on. Perhaps you can show me where there's some entertainment while we wait for this proposition your other companion has for us?""Hah, the fun's where ya make it, girl," Brodgar quips. "Things're a mite stuffy in here though, an' I could do with a bit o' the harvest to sop up what I've already drunk!" He takes a few steps towards the door before adding, "What I'm sayin' is why don't we find somethin' to eat? Probably a bit more fun'n'games out there, too."
Perception
1d20+7
Your keen eye notes a party of dwarves cresting a low hill on the road south, likely headed for the Thane's manor. A familiar spiked helm identifies one of them as Morgrim Thrallhammer, one of the Jarl's warriors. He's an exceptional fighter, and a friend of the Thane's son, Grundar. Also, the left side of Morgrim's face is horribly scarred from an accident, an explosion caused by unstable alchemical elements. It did not improve his temper. If the two of them were here for any length of time, it definitely didn't raise the spirits of the festival-goers, that much is certain.
In response to Willem's mother, I assure her that my intentions would never have placed Willem into harms way. I tell the family that I now understand the depth of their sorrow and the severity of their situation. I promise that things shall improve for humanity, if I have to throw my own life on the line for it. I have grown tired of watching the world observing. It is time to act!
[b["Annah, I speak to you as a friend. Your son shall see a good life. An education as befits a good man like himself. I shall see to it. The Thane's hatred runs only as deep as his ignorance and prejudice. I believe that the truth shall set him free." [/b]
If nothing else occurs for the rest of the day, I retire to the Inn and enjoy the rest of the night. Jinjer is no doubt bursting to hear my plans for the morning.
"I have received and invitation to come to the Thane's Feast tomorrow. I see now the situation of men in this town. They are barely above direct and overt slavery indeed. I am still dubious that the Thane is immune to a diplomatic change of heart. Perhaps a less subtle approach as a back-up. You are a wild one, Jinjer, what do you suggest? "
Below is a summary of the information
*An unusual number of reported sightings of Akaara in the area during the time period. (The winged humanoids usually aren't seen in the lowlands, except in the wilds, or on infrequent trading missions.)
*There was an attack by the Nocturne on Dunshale on the night of High Harvest five years ago. Nothing unusual about such raids, but this one was repelled by the villagers without dwarven intervention.
*An informant reported that a group of young folk from Dunshale traveled northwest into the mountains with the intention of attacking the Nocturne lair to stop any further raids. This information remains unverified.
*At Midwinter Dunshale was raided by a band of Narok, the barbarians from across the Plain of Moving Ice. They managed to make off with a portion of the villages food stores despite sustaining heavy losses, including one of their Snow Wyrds--members of their tribes with a magical affinity for cold magics. The villagers defended themselves until a force of soldiers from the fastness arrived to repel the raiders. It is reported that a large number of Narok had already been killed. The village stores were supplemented by supplies from the fastness that winter.
*Witnesses reported a female fiend destroyed several of the Narok, burning them to death, when they attempted to break into the general store.
*An informant reported that the fiend spotted was disguised as Lillian Eventide, wife of the storekeeper.
*Dispatched Inquisition forces entered Dunshale unannounced and captured Lillian Eventide and her husband, Boris.
*Inquisitors determined that the creature known as Lilith Eventide was a half-devil. Boris Eventide was found to be human.
*Even under intense interrogation, Boris Eventide maintained that he and his "wife" came to Dunshale from far to the south, from a human-dominated city called Highroad, to escape to a new life. The half-fiend provided no pertinent information.
*Boris Eventide was found guilty of harboring an enemy of the state and sentenced to death. The half-fiend was also slated for mandatory execution. They were taken to a hilltop north of Dunshale and destroyed by the holy fires of Baal, called down by clerics of the Inquisition.
*Boris and Lillian were reported to have a son, one Shade Eventide, age 20. He disappeared shortly before their capture and his whereabouts remain unknown.
*The day after the execution, the Jarl declared martial law in Dunshale to stop a reported attempt at uprising. A force of dwarves descended upon the village without warning. [As a former resident of the fastness, you are privy to a piece of information that the villagers are not: there is a secret exit at the base of the hill, allowing troops to deploy just south of the bridge over the Dunwater River, rather than exiting the main gates at the top of the hill and descending.] Villagers were confined to their homes until an official census could be taken.
*During the first day of occupation, Grundar Ironfist was murdered in the common room of the Flask and Flail. His body was discovered by a pair of soldiers sweeping the building. Why he was there is not clear. He had been stabbed in the back twice, one kidney and his heart pierced. The weapon was a broad, stabbing blade.
*The census discovered one other resident missing. A young woman named Aidan Hakar, age 17, daughter of Brynn and Davinia Hakar, ranchers, was unaccounted for. The parents were interrogated, but they did not know their daughter's whereabouts. She had traveled to Three Oaks to deliver some sold stock, but never returned.
*One other personage is unaccounted for. The chapel you currently tend was originally built for a man named Asheron. He was a human cleric of Baal, an orphan raised and trained by the dwarves. It was the hope of the clergy that a human member of the faithful would bridge the gap between human and dwarf and inspire greater loyalty. The last word from him was that he took a trip to Three Oaks to visit an old mentor, a dwarven cleric that had taken up residence in the chapel there.
*Shortly after the occupation, a group of resistance fighters attacked, presumably in an attempt to liberate the village. They were repelled. A captured fighter was interrogated. He claimed that the group attacked in order to free a compatriot of theirs they believed to be held captive by the occupying forces--a woman by the name Damaris. No other information was forthcoming.
"I have received and invitation to come to the Thane's Feast tomorrow. I see now the situation of men in this town. They are barely above direct and overt slavery indeed. I am still dubious that the Thane is immune to a diplomatic change of heart. Perhaps a less subtle approach as a back-up. You are a wild one, Jinjer, what do you suggest? "
"I want to know more about the two poor souls that were the scapegoats for Grundar's murder. The locals say their spirits still roam the hillside above town, unable to rest peacefully. I'd like to meet them. What say we head up there tonight? You know spirits don't like the daylight."
She chugs her final mug for the evening feeling the warmth tingle the tips of her ears and says, "I'd also like to know who exactly witnessed Grundar's murder. Who exactly was in the Flask and Flail that night."
"I want to know more about the two poor souls that were the scapegoats for Grundar's murder. The locals say their spirits still roam the hillside above town, unable to rest peacefully. I'd like to meet them. What say we head up there tonight? You know spirits don't like the daylight."
She chugs her final mug for the evening feeling the warmth tingle the tips of her ears and says, "I'd also like to know who exactly witnessed Grundar's murder. Who exactly was in the Flask and Flail that night."
" That information could prove most enlightening to us. We shall seek out this knowledge tonight after I have written in my journal. I have oft' wondered what our world would be like were death more permanent and could spirits not choose to stay on this plane. Likely we would not take lives so freely. What say you to that supposition?"