15 Calistril, 4713
The narrow dirt path broadens into an expanse of well-trod ground and dry saw grass. A collection of ramshackle buildings sits amid the cut stumps of the cleared forest. An inn – boards covering its windows and an iron chain dangling from its front door – is the largest structure. Houses built around the inn are barely more than one-room shacks, most falling down or ripped apart for their timber. Rising above it all on a gentle hillock, a small whitewashed church marks the scattered buildings as a town. The hill is strangely unnatural, the only such rise for miles around.
A few people shamble between the buildings, eyeing new arrivals as they go about their daily routines. All of the townsfolk are old, stooped by the weight of years of hard work and harder conditions. Their wrinkled faces are mixed with sweat, dust and tears; the visible marks of their long lives of toil.
Suddenly, an old man’s voice rings out, shattering the silence:
“That damned fox! It took another of mah chickens!”
15 Calistril, 4713
The bright sunlight streaks through a crack in the window as Gow wakes up. He yawns blearily and - still half-asleep - stumbles downstairs and orders breakfast. While eating, he overhears someone angrily yelling about foxes and chickens.
Hmmm. I wonder if this is the grand undertaking that Johnson told me about. It doesn't sound like much, but then again, chickens can be dangerous....
As Gow walks down the stairs and finds a seat at a table, drowsy as he is, he walks past the silent Rasim besides the staircase.
As Gow orders breakfast, Rasim just stares outside a window looking at the villagers go about their daily business. He hears the rant about a fox from outside.
This village seems quiet, a bit too quiet perhaps for my tastes. Strange though, for a man like me this would be perfect.
He walks silently towards the gnome and slaps him hard on the shoulder.
"Good mornin' to you mate! Having breakfast without your pet this time?" he says to Gow as he sits down on the opposite end of the table, "This inn, and its meals, are decent, however I doubt adventures will happen here, it looks so... calm..."
Rasim frowns as he realises something at that point, he didn't know the name of his travelling companion.
"I believe we have not been introduced properly" as he extends a hand towards Gow, "Rasim, the Sha... uhm.. the scout of our party, at your service"
Blast, nearly blew my cover, don't know if anyone knows the name, but still...
Wodin Earthbreaker steps out of his room at the inn, yawning widely. The Dwarven man is stout and short like most of his kin, and his well-kept red hair and bright emerald eyes make him seem like a bright, friendly fellow. He wears a sturdy-looking breastplate over a simple green and brown outfit, and besides the dagger in his belt, he is currently unarmed. After his long yawn, his face sets in a look of calm, as if the whole world was just a serene place, and it is only the old voice shouting about stolen chickens that seems to draw him from this calm. He shrugs lightly, stretching a little as he heads for the inn's first floor.
The servant of Torag clomps down the stairs, his heavy Dwarven-made boots landing heavily with each step. Upon seeing Gow and Rasim, "G'mornin' lads," he says, raising a hand in greeting, before heading over to the bar to attempt and get some breakfast.
Lost in thought, Gow fails to notice Rasim approaching and jumps in surprise at his touch.
Oh! I didn't see you there. Hello again! Who was this that's right the nice fellow who listened and didn't yell at me yesterday. Gow's eyes abruptly snap back into focus, and he shakes Rasim's hand.
"Greetings and salutations to you as well, Rasim! I am Gow-Wabber the Infinitely Prolonged." He attempts a flourishing bow, but remains seated, smacks his forehead against the table, and ends up looking completely ridicusous. Completely oblivious to the spectacle he just made of himself, Gow continues, "I left my friend in the stables, but I'll be checking on him once breakfast is done."
Hearing footsteps, Gow looks up, smiles, and nods pleasantly to Wodin. Turning back to Rasim, he continues. As I was saying, Birdy NumNum's outside. Since you got along so splendidly with him, maybe you'd like to help him figure out what he wants to be this morning? Big dogs are so yesterday - if you know what I mean." His green eyes twinkle merrily as if he's telling a familiar joke.
Vlagras stumbles out of bed. Dreams of danger and battles haunted her sleep. She dresses and heads downstairs to order something to eat.
As she enters she notices the mad gnome and the others she met the pervious night. Her stomach turns as she realizes he might be adventuring with him, given the dreams she encountered.
As she comes closer to the gnome, she hears the conversation.
Gow-Wabber the Infinitely Prolonged, ha ha. Unless he was a necromancer, gnomes aren't that much long lived so he must be madder then I thought.
Well, hello everyone. I trust everyone has had a soothing rest.
After your breakfast is served, a human man in clerical robes enters the Inn, and the person who has been acting as the innkeeper leaves, no words are exchanged and both are rather solemn.
The Cleric soon approaches your small group, as you suddenly realize you are the only remaining patrons of the Inn. He is a wiry man, with his thinning hair tucked behind his ears.
Hello, I hope the comforts of Imelda's Palace has been found suitable. My name is Almeray, I am the head of the church, The Poverty's Bethel. The church owns this small inn, and you are welcome to stay here if you are willing to make a contribution to the temple.
We don't get many visitors, and even fewer new residents. Your contribution would be greatly appreciated.
Wodin looks the man over. "Fair enough. I c'n understan' ya wantin' t' keep yer church runnin'," the Dwarf says, setting down his utensils and placing his hands on the tabletop. Looking Almeray in the eye, the Toragian asks, "Now, I s'pose 'at's not all ya came 'ere t' say t' us?" There is no accusation in his voice, it is a simple question.
Vlagras jolts when Almeray mentions his church. She does not know what deity the church serves and is suspicious about his intentions.
Sense Motive check:
What deity do you serve, Almeray?
Vlagras' stomach turns. Could this be part of my dream?
Rasim hails the dwarf and elf coming down the stairs, greeting them with a"Good morning, hope you slept well"
I thought we were with more, maybe the other two were exhausted.
He turns to Gow as he suggests helping out his pet: "Well it'd be my pleasure, I'm intrigued by a shapeshifting pet. Though my past experiences with dogs were not all that good I'm afraid"
As the cleric enters and speaks, Rasim listens closely to his words, trying to find any hints of falsehood in his words.
Sense Motive:
Also Rasim observes the man's clothing for any signs or holy symbols, inspecting the man from top to bottom.
Perception:
15 Calistril, 4713
I am a cleric of the church of Freya, we are one of the few places that is not boarded up and lost to memory in Lessef.
I serve no other purpose than to welcome you, and to let you know of our modest request in return for your stay here at the inn. If a contribution to the church is agreeable, then I will arrange for meals at morning, noon and night, if you are present.
If you are out, then I will not bother my assistants to prepare anything for you.
If you are looking for work, I am sure the farmer who is losing chickens to an elusive fox could give you something to do.
Thank you for your patronage, and again, welcome to Lessef
Vlagras' stomach once again turns. This is a bad sign if her dream is coming true then there are truly dark days ahead.
Rasim, Wodin, and Gow, can I talk to you in private?
Vlagras looks for a place where she could talk privately.
Wodin looks to the elven woman, only vaguely interested. "Whatcha need, lass?" he asks.
Gow looks at Rasim. "Looks like Birdy NumNum will have to wait a little longer." He turns to Vlagras. "What do you need?"
She looks.. worried.. I wonder why
"Aye, Gow", Rasim turns his head to Vlagras "Sure thing, what's on your mind?"
Vlagras takes a deep breath.
"I had a disturbing dream last night that pointed me in the direction of this church. There was a broken scepter. I don't remember if the item was the church's or whatever, but connected to the scepter was the thundering clouds of battle and dark storm clouds.
If you wish to go to the church, I will come with you, but I do not feel safe staying over night. "
The floorboards overhead creak and even the beams let out a groan as some massive weight shifts on the second floor. The sound of someone loudly blowing their nose is followed moments later by someone messily clearing their throat.
A minute passes quietly before Froth emerges from the stairwell. He is only half dressed, but otherwise looks much as he did last night. Where he was dressed in scale armour on that occasion, now he is in pants and shirtsleeves, though his cuffs are unfastened, and the shirt hangs open revealing his chest. A rough wooden medalion, depicting the stag's head of Erastil swings on a leather thong next to his chest. While not armoured, he is armed, with a huge knife strapped to his hip (you've seen swords with less steel), and what looks like an oversized throwing axe stuffed in his belt.
Coming down the stairs as he does, he fills the entire space. Seeing him now in the light of day, you wonder that he doesn't get attacked on sight in most villages; he truly looks like a monster, ripped from your dreams. He stands close to eight feet tall than he does to seven, and must weigh as much as two or three men. He resembles the orcs he said had born him, but it a resemblance only. It is more like a sculptor merely started with an Orc and then tried to see how much he could change it, and have it still remain orc-like. His skin is dark green, like the colour of evergreens, and his hair is dead black. The hair is straight and falls around his head all the way to his waist. Across his chest, and visible on his forearms there are shiny black disks, like scales or bone (carapace perhaps?). A long tail, as thick as a man's wrist, trails out from behind him. It is covered in suckers like a squid or octopus. His arms are much too large for his body, hanging to his knees, and looking like they were ripped off a giant and stitched onto his frame. His face has perhaps traversed the most distance from his origins as an orc. His eyes glow red, with a flickering intensity, as if a fire burns behind them. Around the outer edge of each brow there are three solid black shapes, like disks or orbs, and they shine as glossy as polished opals. He doesn't appear to have any ears to speak of, and his tusks and teeth are black instead of white (or yellow) they way most orc's would be. The tusks are thin and needle sharp, and look more like the fangs of a spider than the thick bony tusks sported by most orcs.
He sidles down a little clumsily, or perhaps drunkenly, down the stairs rubbing at his eyes. The wood of the stairs creaks in protest at the weight, but holds for the time being. He sits down at the table with the mad-gnome, the elf, and the dwarf. He holds up a hand to signal the keep, and it hits the roof, even sitting down. He ignores the dust he disturbs there and calls out, "Keep! Meat; cooked or not, I don't care. And another of whatever I was drinking last night...hair of the dog..."
He takes a quick look around the table at the others and then returns to rubbing at his glowing eyes.
elf lady was yelling and standing on tables last night. now sounds scared. bad dreams can't hurt anything. Gow seems confused by Vlagras' ominous words, but after a moment of thought, responds.
"Bad dreams are never fun but maybe I can help. I know I don't look like much, but if you want protection during the night, I'm able to..."
Gow stops abruptly, and his mad gaze stares blankly at the far wall for a second. Just as he's about to finish his sentence, he hears noise and turns to see Froth groggily descending the staircase.
"... actually, never mind. The big guy's better suited to guard your slumber - provided he doesn't cause worse nightmares."
Gow then addresses Froth. "I was wondering if you were ever coming down. Maybe this'll help wake you up?" As he says this, he wiggles his fingers, and the smell of burnt cocoa beans wafts into Froth's nostrils.
Spellcraft:
"Well Vlagras, I"Rasim almost swallows his words as the sound of creaking wood is heard from the staircase and Froth is coming down. rasim is startled by the sight, but doesn't show it as much.
Well now, I thought the orc was monstrous just because of his size, but hell.... Don't wanna meet him in a dark alley, usually it is the other way around
He shakes his head and snaps out of the sense of amazement, speaking to the elf again "What I wanted to say was, if you have any particular problems with a place in this town, I'll be happy to investigate it for you during the night"
Sounds of battle eh? Broken Scepters? sounds like there's wealth to be had soon
"Let's wait a few minutes to see if Blue Eyes will come down before we leave. Perhaps, he is already at the church.
Vlagras turns to the cleric.
"I will come to your church, but I will not stay the night."
Oh, I did not expect you to stay the night... Almeray responds with a quizzical look on his face. Forgive me, I may have been unclear. This Inn that you have spent the night at, is owned by the church. If you will be requiring accommodations for a longer period of time, I ask that you make a contribution to the church
He gathers his things and starts to head to the door, turning before he leaves You are of course, welcome to come visit the church at any time, I will leave you all to discuss this matter, have someone send word to me when you have made a decision
He bows and departs.
Gow sits alone in a blank, endless nothingness. "Now I understand why I'm named 'The Infinitely Prolonged'. I could stay here forever while no time at all passes in the material world. I wonder what's happening outside this place...."
Gow's eyes snap open, as he jolts back into alertness. Vlagras is shaking him while Wodin, Froth, Rasim, and Blue Eyes look on. "Wake up, Gow! We need to figure out how to proceed! We need your insight! ..."
Suddenly, Gow's eyes refocus as he comes out of the madness for a moment. "Well, everyone, what are your thoughts? I don't mind staying here: the food's good, and the bed's soft. But I do need to find work of some sort. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm flat broke!"
Vlagras looks embarrassed, once again assuming things that weren't there.
"Great, just made an ass of myself. I guess I will stay here, since just by entering the inn, I have started the chain of events."
Vlagras looks down at her meal and picks at her plate.
Well, maybe I should help find the chicken. It is total unrelated, probably some fox or country bandit looking for a fight to start.
"So...Do you guys want to look for the missing chicken?"
Wodin shrugs. "Well, I ain't got much else t' do out 'ere, lass, so why not? Figure helpin' a fella find th' beast 'at's been stealin' his livelihood is a good use o' me time," the Dwarf states, nodding sagely.
Rasim nods. "I do need some sort of work, not just for some money, but also to keep me busy, I'd lose my touch when sitting idly by"
Rasim walks towards the window closest to the door and looks out at the man (if he is still cursing that fox) that complained about his chickens.
Chickens eh?
He walks to the door and opens it, while standing in the doorway he looks back to his new comrades. "You comin'?"
And he walks out the door, towards the man that shouted about the damned fox
15 Calistril, 4713
As your fellowship departs Imelda's Palace, you have an easy time following your ears to an old man named Lauf. He appears ancient, looking older than a lot of the buildings in this barren time forgotten town.
Despite his yelling while alone, once your party approaches, he seems to become much more timid, and speaks with a stutter while scratching his arms and neck while he addresses you:
Ahh... d-d-d-did ya come to help wit muh chick'ns? ya'll l-l-look capable 'nuf.
Wodin gives the man a calm smile. "Aye, we 'eard ya raisin' all sorts o' Hell o'er 'ere, an' figured ya could use a hand."
"What was all o'that about?"
After hearing the explanation..."What, so we just gotta find a chicken or kill a fox or somethin', and tha' guy will pick up our tab for the whole stay at this inn? Hah! What was he smokin? Anyway, sounds like a sweet deal!"
Froth stands in the background, knowing that his appearance tends to intimidate. He attempts to pitch his voice to be softer than usual and tries to add in helpfully.
"Fox. Needs killin. Where is it?"
Rasim lets Wodin, Vlagras or Gow do the talking as he leans on the fence of the chicken range, looking for any signs of a fox or something else.
Taking in as much information as he can of the site and surroundings.
Perception
As the others talk with the farmer, Gow wanders over to the chicken range and stands near Rasim. After looking at the chickens with a thoughtful look on his face, he makes a few gestures, mutters something under his breath, and starts clucking.
Diplomacy
The old man doesn't seem bothered at all by Froth's intimidating presence Th' critter has g-g-g-gotta have a den 'round here, but i ain't finded it yet
Bluff
Rasim thinks about what he knows about foxes, while looking quizically at Gow as he clucks.
Foxes would go on a killing frenzy when they go into a chicken coop, so why is there no blood or feathers here? And why take only one chicken that doesn't add up
"Something is a miss Gow, this isn't the work of a fox, though it is always the easiest explanation... Might as well be a chicken thief, no signs of blood and only one chicken?"Rasim says as he continues to look about the yard.
"I might have an idea to catch whatever it is, though I doubt you would like it" He adds quietly, so as only Gow could hear
Are there any other signs of something that entered the chicken range other than a fox or a human? Foot or pawprints I mean
"Shhh, I'm trying to find out what the chickens know." Gow whispers. "But they seem pretty stupid, so give me a minute, and then tell me your idea if mine doesn't work." He then turns his attention back to the chickens.
Vlagras leaves the inn and catches up to the group.
Great the gnome is talking to the chickens.
Vlagras looks over the field, wondering what Rasim was talking about.
Perception:
@Vlagras have a peek at his spoiler.
Wodin raises an eyebrow as Gow begins to apparently converse with the chickens. "Don' think I've e'er seen that before..." he muses.
Rasim walks along the fence looking down at the ground looking for footprints or pawprints or whatever, silently examining the ground, leaving the others with a clucking Gow and Lauf.
Perception:
The old man from the night, the guitar-player, sidles up to the group. His piercing blue eyes scan the area, but he says nothing.
[ooc you were correct, chickens aren't very smart. [/ooc]
The old man gives everyone a look before speaking again
Ask 'round if ya want, deres got t-t-to be a fox coming and gettin' my chick'ns. Town struggles 'nuf, c-c-can't take losin' food
Wodin nods at the man. "Pro'ly somethin' loike 'at, yeah. We'll look in'a it fir ya, don' worry."
"Was the little thing just talking to the chickens? Hey, little guy, can you make yourself taste like chicken too?
The big monster chuckles.
"So, how do we solve the mystery? We need to get this done quick so I can get back to the inn and start working on that tab. I feel like chicken for some reason..."
"Hmm, well this ain't a fox Lauf" Rasim says to the old man,
"And if it is a fox it is a rather strange one, he doesn't kill your chickens, just takes them with him"
Rasim nods quietly to himself as he looks at the tracks going into town.
This doesn't prove anything yet, though my hunch says it's a thief
He looks up at the group. "Well I have an idea for this, just answer me one thing Lauf, is there a chicken missing every night? If so we could catch him this night if we hold watch and perhaps bait" he looks slyly at Gow
"I already said you are not gonna like my suggestion" Rasim smiles faintly at the gnome.
He wallks up to the gnome and whispers in his ear
As the spell wears off, Gow rejoins the group. "The chickens didn't tell me much, but it does appear that a male humanoid has been coming at night and taking them. You're right, Rasim, it's definitely not a fox."
After hearing Rasim's whispered suggestion, he pauses and thinks for a minute, then responds quietly. "I don't know how much he'll like it, but Birdy NumNum and I should be able to make it work."
He then raises his voice slightly to address the entire party. "Should we return to the inn and formulate a plan?"
Froth kneels down to take a closer look at the tracks.
"All kidding aside, I'll see if I can tell anything about our thief based on his tracks. Sometimes you can tell how tall they are by how far the tracks are apart, whether he was running or sneaking, how heavy they are by how deep the tracks scuffed the earth, stuff like that."
He pulls out a tuft of grass and chews it a bit, trying to tell how dry or moist the air and the soil are. He lines his massive foot up next to one of the tracks and bounces on it a few times to see how deep his own track goes.