Akahale's investigative senses go on the alert.
It darkens Its light and takes up position near a wall of the tavern, perhaps nearer Seram than coincidence would have it. Its head continually swivels left to right. Its shield and rather wicked-looking hammer are locked into place.
"My, I wonder what's on the menu tonight in this fine establishment?" Rowan asks Seram as Rowan rubs his hands together to rid them of the cold from outside.
MAnny's only comment during the swift, brief interaction between the two warriors is to snort, shake his head and mutter "Kids. Can't take 'em anywhere."
Entering with the others, Mandrake pulls off his sodden hat and wrings a copious amount of water from it. He then hangs it on an odd protrusion on It's back. Flinging his still sodden hair back from his face, he grins at the ebb and flow of humanity in the room.
Leaning towards It as if confiding a great secret, but speaking loud enough by everyone nearby even over the rumble of sound in the room, the mage declares;
"Our little group is doing well don't you think? I think we've reached a very special place, spiritually, ecumenically, grammatically,... Oooo, fireplace!" And the mage blunders across the room through the throng to warm his hands at the roaring fire.
The wizard sighs as the warmth begins to seep into his bones, and then stares at the fire as if mesmerized. As he stares, his smile slowly fades, then turns to a frown. Blinking, he hastily crosses the room to take a seat at the table with Seram and Grafire.
"Not that cold, actually." He mutters as he sits. Then he shivers in his sodden robes. Rolling his eyes, he mutters a few words in a language that just doesn't seem to want to stay in your ears, and his robes dry in a puff of steam.
"There, THAT's better! Now, where were we?"
"There, THAT's better! Now, where were we?"
"Food, drink, a place to sleep and wondering whats going to hit the floor first, if I remember rightly," Rowan frowns counting the fingers on one hand.
"But I'm hoping the last one doesn't take place until well into tomorrow," Rowan adds looking around for either signs of a menu board which if not visible will head to the bar to find out whats available to eat and drink although he does believe Seram has covered that last part already.
The older woman cranes her ear to Akahale, "What's that, sir? A room?" she asks, "It'll be cramped with you all in it, but there's a lot of you merchants here right now. I'm Manelda, sir, by the way - have you travelled far? You'll be glad of a rest! Follow me, and we'll get you to your room."
Grafire
Anyone with Insight or Perception result of over 20 (or Passive of same) who has been studying the pub
Akahale resigns himself to a sleepless night as he follows Manelda to the room. Once he has established possession, he checks the doors and windows for rapid exit routes and secret passages.
Before going to the room, Manelda indicates that the first night will need to be paid for upfront, "That'll be, now there are 6 of you? So, that's 13 gold and 2 silver altogether, sir. Your meals, you pay for separate to that."
She shows him to the room, "Here we are then sir, one of our best ones but not our biggest, I'm afraid. Still, we'll give you some blankets if you don't have some for them as will sleep on the floor."
Before going to the room, Manelda indicates that the first night will need to be paid for upfront, "That'll be, now there are 6 of you? So, that's 13 gold and 2 silver altogether, sir. Your meals, you pay for separate to that."
She shows him to the room, "Here we are then sir, one of our best ones but not our biggest, I'm afraid. Still, we'll give you some blankets if you don't have some for them as will sleep on the floor."
"Do you accept gems or prefer coinage?" he asks her on the matter of paying for the rooms.
Manelda laughs at Rowan, "Oh, you're a one! Not going to say no to a nice stone, but I think the boss would prefer coins; he's a sour one is ol' Pioter. Don't tell him I said that!" she smiles.
And then all business, "Will you be paying for them all, sir?" she asks Rowan.
Manelda laughs at Rowan, "Oh, you're a one! Not going to say no to a nice stone, but I think the boss would prefer coins; he's a sour one is ol' Pioter. Don't tell him I said that!" she smiles.
And then all business, "Will you be paying for them all, sir?" she asks Rowan.
"Well I was hoping to convert some first but it looks like that will have to wait until the morning so unless one of you have the coins to oblige the young lady I guess I'll need to see if your boss will accept these as legal tender?" Rowan asks the others whom if they don't respond assume Rowan will check with the owner to see whether he'll accept a gem or two to pay for the rooms for a couple of days.
"I will pay." Akahale counts out the coins. "Additional blankets would be most welcome. I propose to sleep on the floor."
Akahale also proposes to wrap his head in extra blankets to keep out the inevitable noise.
"Father Rowan, would you care to join me on an evening constitutional to look at the town before we join the others for a meal?"
"I will pay." Akahale counts out the coins. "Additional blankets would be most welcome. I propose to sleep on the floor."
Akahale also proposes to wrap his head in extra blankets to keep out the inevitable noise.
"Father Rowan, would you care to join me on an evening constitutional to look at the town before we join the others for a meal?"
"Certainly if nothing else it will prepare us for the evening's repast," Rowan replied.
"It will not sleep," It remarks to nobody in particular.
"Akahale, here is a few coin and a couple more for the good Father, thanks." Grafire toss 5 gold to Akahale.
He then turns to Manny, "Why such a long face Manny? Tis not all bad or at least nothing a tall mug of ale can't fix for ya."
"It will not sleep," It remarks to nobody in particular.
" 'It' also won't be quiet, no matter how often I try to fry,... er,... repair, the vocal manipulation matrix,..." Manny stage whispers, also to no one in particular.
"Akahale, here is a few coin and a couple more for the good Father, thanks." Grafire toss 5 gold to Akahale.
He then turns to Manny, "Why such a long face Manny? Tis not all bad or at least nothing a tall mug of ale can't fix for ya."
Mandrake looks up from the table, where he had been busily contemplating the entropic nature of the universe in its scarred surface. "Hmmm?" He asks cleverly.
"Oh, OH! Ale! Yes! Far too much blood in my alcohol stream! Good for the heart." He declares. Then blinks as he sees Akahale scooping up the gold from Grafire.
"Hm. Drinks, room, Ante up yes? No problem, I've got it right here,..." The addled mage declares, his voice muffled by his beard as he digs through his belt pouches. He eventually emerges with a small bag, and grumbles as he fusses with the knot.
"Ah-hah! Gotit!" Mandrake cries happily, holding the bag up high like a trophy. Whereupon the bag upends itself in his grip, discharging a barrage of small, polished, spherical stones which descend like a rattling waterfall across the tabletop and floor, their clatter clearly carrying even across the bustling hum of the busy Inn. The mage blinks, staring at the bag as it inevitably empties itself.
"Oh, Bother." Mandrake pouts as he looks at his companions around the table. He eyes are large and sad, like a bushy, grey-bearded puppy.
"I seem to have lost my marbles. Excuse me."
With that, the 'Mad Mage' swiftly snatches the few marbles remaining on the tabletop, then slides from his chair to the floor, where he proceeds to crawl on all four, vainly attempting to recapture his escaped collection.
With a rather obvious smirk Grafire keeps an eye out to make sure nobody gives Manny a bad time while he scrambles for his "lost marbles". Grafire says out loud to the rest of the table "With an eccentric mage like this I would bet he can pack a wholop. I just hope he doesn't get too distracted when we need him most."
Then Grafire turns and ask "Were is that pirty server lady? I need an ale after watching that. Oh and a warm meal would do go about now too."
Akahale smiles slightly as Manny's scramble takes him across the floor.
"Sometimes that which is lost cannot be found again." he comments to Rowan. "Not even behind the dank sofas of the mind. I think our mage has found other treasures in his brain that push the practical issues of his life aside. Shall we go?"
He leads the way into the rain-sodden streets of Ashenport. The all-pervading scent of fish fills the air as he looks up and down the village, hoping for something to capture his attention and alert his ever-present investigative sense.
"I believe in instinct."
"Another", he says as he places the mug on the table. Seram silenly scans the room for anyone worthy enough to fight. He finds the task hard though. Between the blasted wizards ramblings, and dropping of marbles. Too his 'comrades' persistant chatter; Makes the mater of picking up anything a challenge.
Akahale smiles slightly as Manny's scramble takes him across the floor.
"Sometimes that which is lost cannot be found again." he comments to Rowan. "Not even behind the dank sofas of the mind. I think our mage has found other treasures in his brain that push the practical issues of his life aside. Shall we go?"
"Certainly" replies Rowan still a little gobsmacked at Manny scrambling to pick up his marbles.
[quote=] He leads the way into the rain-sodden streets of Ashenport. The all-pervading scent of fish fills the air as he looks up and down the village, hoping for something to capture his attention and alert his ever-present investigative sense.
"I believe in instinct."
"I have to admit I had always wondered why I never seemed to linger in fishing communities, well I now remember why," Rowan quipped.
"I just hope thats the worst of it," Rowan shivers in the cold as they look around.
"I have to admit I had always wondered why I never seemed to linger in fishing communities, well I now remember why," Rowan quipped.
"I just hope thats the worst of it," Rowan shivers in the cold as they look around.
Akahale stands in the streaming rain as the gale pounds around them.
"I doubt that Rowan. We were not sent here to sample the healthful air. If it is healthful. I share your sentiments. The smell makes me feel remarkably sick."
It's not really possible for a dragonborn to turn pale, but if he could, the combination of foul weather and the great scent of fish would be making him look decidedly seedy.
"Onwards. Let us seek beyond the smell for evil worthy of our attention. I need to be thoroughly tired, sleeping is going to be difficult. Have you ever occupied a room with Manfred before, Father? I assure you, he and Seram are not restful companions. Grafire I regret has impacted sinuses and snores loudly. It is mercifully devoid of the need for sleep. Truly an excellent companion."
"I have to admit I had always wondered why I never seemed to linger in fishing communities, well I now remember why," Rowan quipped.
"I just hope thats the worst of it," Rowan shivers in the cold as they look around.Akahale stands in the streaming rain as the gale pounds around them.
"I doubt that Rowan. We were not sent here to sample the healthful air. If it is heathful. I share your sentiments. The smell makes me feel remarkably sick."
It's not really possible for a dragonborn to turn pale, but if he could, the combination of foul weather and the great scent of fish would be making him look decidedly seedy.
"Onwards. Let us seek beyond the smell for evil worthy of our attention. I need to be thoroughly tired, sleeping is going to be difficult. Have you ever occupied a room with Manfred before, Father? I assure you, he and Seram are not restful companions. Grafire I regret has impacted sinuses and snores loudly. It is mercifully devoid of the need for sleep. Truly an excellent companion."
"So left, right or straight ahead unless that isn't an alleyway ahead of us containing unknown evil and an overflowing sewer thats if this place has a working sewer system..." Rowan gestures in the directions he was suggesting.
"As a hatchling I loved paddling. We took nets and hunted for shrimp. Cunning adversaries. Perhaps if the weather clears, I might do so again."
Akahale sounds almost wistful.
"Seram, looky over there looks like a band of professional fighters."
But actually Grafire's interest turns toward what appears to be couple of groups of merchants. I wonder what goods they have for sale, or maybe they're here to buy? Grafire mulls through his thick skull. I think I will inquire.
He then gets up and heads over to the nearest group of merchants. "You all look like a fine group of merchants. What, may I ask, are you buying or selling?"
"As a hatchling I loved paddling. We took nets and hunted for shrimp. Cunning adversaries. Perhaps if the weather clears, I might do so again."
Akahale sounds almost wistful.
"I wonder what type of fish they sell, maybe someone there will know of a good place for hunting shrimp?" Rowan suggests wondering what kind of shrimp could be considered that cunning and then shrugs off an image of a giant sized shrimp with several dragonborn hunting it...
Mandrake scoots along the floor, around chairs, under tables, and sometimes between patron's legs as he pursues his errant collection. His efforts are truly astounding for an apparently ancient codger. He is only hampered by his knees constantly treading on his long beard.
...wondering what kind of shrimp could be considered that cunning and then shrugs off an image of a giant sized shrimp with several dragonborn hunting it...
Seram notes that everyone seems to be doing their best to enjoy a drink and food out of the warm weather and that no-one seems either hostile or even doing the least little bit of fiddling with weaponry.
Grafire heads over to the group with the golden leaf tattoo, he addresses the group and a raven-haired woman turns to face him; she would be (by the standards of the mammal races) quite beautiful, indeed stunning were it not for her left eye. It is an ugly white, obscured by a cataract.
"Well, it's not fish." She says simply with an ironic smile by way of reply.
Mandrake chases one recalcitrant marble which seems to be particularly adept at avoiding grasping hands. HE corners it at last, and pounces upon it, only to have it escape at the last second thanks to an errant nudge of the boot it was resting against. Outraged, Manny rises up to berate the person, and hits his head solidly on the bottom of the table he is under, causing it to jump.
Rubbing his sore noggin' and cursing under his breath, the mage makes his way out from under the table and rises to his knees to glare at the owner of the offending boot.
"Watch your feet you great lummox! It's not easy chasing these things down you know! It's not like I can just use magic and gather them all up,... Oh. Or, Actually, I guess I could,.... Oooo,... NUTS!" He cries, spotting the bowl of peanuts on the tabletop. He promptly reaches out and snags a handful. He swiftly shells 3 of them, dropping the meat onto the floor and popping the shells in his mouth.
"Do you believe that some people eat the stuffin's in these things?!?" He asks incredulously. Wide-eyed and smiling through his bristling beard as he crunches happily, the mage's head slowly descends back below the level of the tabletop,...
"Wow, what's a lovely such as your self doing in such a gods forbidding town in such terrible weather as a night like tonight. Some thing worth while must bring you here and I would agree, it is not the fish. Might I buy you a drink?"
Grafire smiles back at her.
"I would like to renew my acquaintance with shrimp," Akahale continues in reminiscent mood, "but perhaps the beach should wait. The grove of trees now, that seems interesting. Shall we walk that way?"
Grafire
The half-elf (for such she is) looks at Grafire in bafflement with her one good eye, "I am here as the emissary for the Goldleaf Trading Consortium, and I do not take well to mockery, 'sir'. I am quite well furnished with drink as well." she adds with an edge to her voice.
Akahale and Rowan
Here in the centre of town, a densely thick copse of trees grows, and all the trees are drooping and weeping in the rain. A full 75 feet across, the grove is far too healthy and far too well tended to be mere chance. Clearly the grove is something the people of Ashenport take very seriously.
Akahale looks suspiciously around, convinced that evil will be hiding behind every tree trunk.
"Why, in a seaside town, should a grove of trees be especially tended, Father? Let us investigate. With proper caution. Anyone in such a grove in such weather may be up to no good." he concludes, apparently unable to distinguish between his own rather odd behaviour and anyone elses.
Nature, Religion and Perception checks on mystery grove: (1d20 7=8, 1d20 11=27, 1d20 7=27)
Akahale wishes he had paid more attention to nature study instead of chasing shrimps.
Akahale thinks it might have some sort of religious significance, but just looking at the trees from outside isn't telling him anything.
Akahale starts to ease his way into the grove, all his senses tingling with the reek of wrongness.
Bored and restless, Seram takes his leave. Perhaps he'll find some fun out in the rain soaked streets.
He lays a gold piece by his mug, as he goes.
Seram
Seram leaves the pub and sees Rowan and Akahale are not in sight.
Akahale
The dragonborn searches around inside the copse, pushing his way through the sodden undergrowth and finds a small sculpture of Melora, now overgrown and defaced with edged weapons.
Not seeing the priest or the warlock, Seram walk the streets. "More of a chance to cut loose without them around anyway"
The dragonborn hisses slightly at the sight of the defaced statue.
"Ahh! Father - look at this and tell me this is the work of the light. We have a clue. Sure evidence of ... something."
Grafire pauses for a second, the smile disappears from his face. "My apologies I meant no offense. Being in the military leaves my manners with something more to be desired. I am curious though, there seem to be quite a few traders here. Is there maybe anything I can keep watch out for in my travels here locally that maybe of use to you?"
It, being expressionless by design, shows no amusement at Grafire's situation.
Roaming the rain soaked streets, a scowl starts to creep the large man's face. During his time walking all he's seen are scrawny, old fishermen. Small children splashing in pools of water. The occasional woman walking the streets.
"Is this really all this town has to offer. Pups and the elderly."