The sleepy village of Heldren has rarely seen so much excitement or concern. Hunters from the nearby Border Wood speak of unnaturally cold weather at the height of summer that descended on the forest just days ago. Heavy snow followed, and those who returned spoke of an uneasy presence in the woods, as well as new, dangerous predators. No one knows what this event means, but the town's soothsayer, Old Mother Theodora, claims dark times lie ahead.
As if in proof of that dire prophecy, a badly wounded mercenary arrived in town yesterday, claiming to be a bodyguard of Lady Argentea Malassene. He told the village council that the noblewoman's escort came under attack by bandits and strange, wintry creatures near the edge of the Border Wood. He alone escaped, and Lady Argentea was dragged away into the forest. Now the townsfolk cast fearful eyes toward the snowy forest, worried what else might emerge to threaten their peaceful village.
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Shuffling through the door of the tavern, a heavily cloaked and coated humanoid begins stomping his snow-covered boots before proceeding further inside.
Roughly 5' tall; a solid-looking build making the brownish-white foliage spotted garb bulge in arm and leg areas; hooded head bowed slightly as it moves deftly toward the bar.
A heavy flail hangs loosely at its side. A pack is tied securely upon its broad shoulders.
Approaching the bar, the stunt figure announces, Aye, could using sum supplies. You gits some red ale?
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At a table near the fire, a six and a half foot mountain of a man (if mountains could go unshaven for a week, have a sizable gut, and smell of stale sweat and beer) wearing the (unkempt) blonde braids and bushy blonde mustache of an Ulfen sits laughing and drinking with a broad shouldered dwarf. The dwarf shakes his head and chuckles at his friend's tall tales, scratching at his dark whiskers and pulling deeply on a flagon of something.
He is clad in a simple peasant's shirt, well made brown canvas pants, and heavy boots. His hair is pulled back and tied into a simple braid, bound with a carved iron holder. A warhammer of dark steel with a well worn handle rests on the table next to him, and, oddly, its little brother lays upon his forehead in the form of a dark portwine birthmark, the handle at his hairline, the head low over his heavy brow.
As the newcomer tromps in and speaks, something about his mien and his accent makes the dwarf look up for a moment to look him over. Noting nothing particularly suspicious, he turns back to his friend's raucous blather.
Alec sat alone at the bar, quietly drinking his ale. Outside of the numerous weapons on his body, he was fairly plain. His dark hair was pulled back in a short pony tail. He was of average height and weight. Even his pale skin and brown eyes were unremarkable.
He was rather well known through Heldren. Him and his father provided a lot of meat to the butcher and skins to the tanners. That is before his father died a few weeks ago. Since then he's mostly sat at the bar drinking. He rarely talked to anyone and hardly ever caused a disturbance. Most of the town just saw him as a man dealing with his suffering.
He paid no attention when the door would open or patrons would come and go. Occasionally he glanced over his shoulder at the gnoll. It was unusual for a gnoll to wander into town. Or rather, it was unusual for it to be not met with violence. It hadn't hurt anyone, so it was allowed to explore the town, although no one could understand a damn thing it said. Still, it was hard to take your eyes off of the gnoll. Most people hadn't seen one up close, and less lived to tell about it.
As the newest arrival walked up to the bar, Alec gave it a quick look and an even quicker nod. It was strange for a heavy cloak during summer, but no stranger than the gnoll. He raised his glass in salute and resumed his own drinking.
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having arrived just the other day, Fral sat in a dark corner of the bar, where no-one could really notice him. if he stood, he would tower over almost everyone in the bar, his scythe was placed firmly in the floorboards by the table. he had yet to order anything, mostly because he couldn't understand the barmaid.
His attire was ratty and shoddily made, and the chainmail he wore looks like it was made using parts from several different sets. He watched others mill about the tavern and he huffed to himself.
When will meat be here? He thought to himself.
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The big man bellows ...and den Hvergl says :affects a low gravelly voice "Don't for tell me wife, or hy vill get no supper ven I come home tonight!" BAHAHAHAHAHA!
He slaps his dwarf friend on his meaty shoulder hard enough to send beer sloshing from his cup. For his part, the dwarf shakes his head and laughs. He has heard Hvergl's story many times before. He tilts his head back and drains his drink in several large gulps.
I'll get us another round. he says as he rises and walks over to the bar. Another two. Throw some water in them: I don't want to have to lug Karl upstairs again tonight. He leans on the bar, waiting, and looks over to the hooded and scarved stranger.
The red's alright, but try the mead. There's a beekeeper outside of the village who makes it fresh.
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Giovanni stiffens a bit being addressed by a dwarf. He quickly nods back.
Aye, dis gud fer the chill too., the muffled voice responds in rough common.
The cloaked figure peers around the common room. He notices the strange mix of patrons; himself included.
He looks to the dwarf. Pulling down his scarf a bit, showing the lower part of his face to the dwarf.
Giovanni points at each of the patrons he has singled out.
Giovanni wets his finger in a mug meant to be disposed. He traces a word in goblin onto the bar.
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fral stand and goes to the bar, leaving his scythe stuck in the floor by his table. because he is hunched ove, he stands only 5'6", but he is burly and wide. he comes to the bartender and spits out a word that can only be described as throttled. " Meat!" he says, mangling the word with his canine mouth.
I wait for several.... uhhh.... long time!
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Caught unprepared, Rolph visibly recoils upon seeing the sharp teeth, bronze skin, and red eyes of the hobgoblin. The goblin mutters at him in a language he does not understand, but has heard many times, in skirmishes and ambushes in his homeland. The sound of it sends a chill up his spine.
His hands clench, longing to grip his hammer, but it lays on the table a dozen or more feet away, next to Karl. He backs away a step. girding himself for an attack, assessing his enemy.
This goblin is not clad in rags or tatters of armor, or the one-size-fits-all mail the more regimented hobgoblin smiths favor. His weapon is not of rough goblin-make. He is not a hunched, slavering monster. He stands there, in an inn, composed and doing business with humans calm and peacefully. His words do not threaten or intimidate. The goblin points to Rolph and the room's other clearly armed occupants calmly and without aggression.
Taking a deep breath, Rolph composes himself, squaring off in front of the goblin and locking eyes with him. He'll be damned if he'll be the one to bring bloodshed into this place if he can help it. He speaks in low tones.
I'm sorry... friend: I don't speak your language. He extends a broad hand, rough with toil. Rolph. Of the Ironbrows.
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Giovanni glances at the dwarf's outstretched hand.
He doesn't speak goblin? Hmmm....perhaps his clan doesn't have many meeting with my kind.He may be amendable to civilized conversation.
Giovanni straightens to his full height, squaring his broad shoulders and standing at attention. He smartly salutes the dwarf.
I am called Giovanni Cicero BrokenCrown, formally of the Weeping Blood tribe; of Zoarth's castle. I hail from northern Varisia in the Kodar mountains on the border of cursed Irrisen!
The hobgoblin then resumes his stool. He takes a long pull from a mug of Red ale.
My companion and I are on a hunt. We are seeking passage north.
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Giovanni stiffens a bit as the gnoll he noticed upon entering approaches his place at the bar.
Upon hearing the anguish of frustration in the gnoll's voice as it asks for assistance, he nods at the gnoll.
Giovanni then says to Rolph, This gnoll is simply frustrated. Seems he only speaks his tongue.
Giovanni smiles at each of them.
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Giovanni turns back to the gnoll.
Giovanni then turns to the barman.
Excuse me, but I would like to order: Whatever dinner meal that includes plenty of meat that you are serving tonight, along with a flagon of your bee mead?
He looks to Rolf for affirmation.
Three orders, if you please. Have them brought to that table., He points to the gnolls place.
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Rolph forces a smile and looks up at the gnoll.
Bee mead! he repeats, giving a thumbs-up.
He turns to Giovanni. Let me know if you need help. We don't want any trouble.
He slaps a coin on the bar, and tells the barman For the mead. inclining his head toward the larger of the two humanoids. He then takes two flagons from the bar, offers the hobgoblin a small salute with one, and returns to his table.
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fral nods at the hobgoblin ans smiles.
Fral heads back to his Booth and sits next to his scythe. once he gets his meal, he gourges on it without even lifting his hads to grab the meat, instead using one to hold the mead and the other to make sure the table doesn't fall over.
A dwarf, a gnome, and a hobgoblin; oh my Alec thought to himself. I think this ale is making my head fuzzy.
"Barkeep, mead" he said simply. He pulled out a silver coin and slapped it down on bar. He watched the introductions between the odd trio out of the corner of his eye. He may be a little drunk, but he still had enough wits about him to be wary of strangers in town.
As the gnoll sat in the corner devouring its food, Alec realized that he himself had not eaten in a while. He began to stand up and quickly grabbed on to the bar as the ground shook. He sat done almost as quickly and braced himself so he wouldn't fall off of his chair. After a moment of silently whispering to himself, he reached into his coin pouch to see how many coins he had left. Sighing, he order a plate of food and did his best not to fall over.
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Giovanni joins the gnoll at his table.
Not thinking many would dare...
He hungrily eats along side the ravenous gnoll. He takes a swig of the bee meade.
Not too shabby!
Giovanni, between bites, rips, and chews says,
He points to himself, the gnoll, and outside.
He goes back to eating...
”Come Mina, it’ll be fun!” the attractive blonde says, taking pleasure in the more relaxed speech she slips into in places such as these.
With loosely curled honey blond hair cascading down her shoulders and piercing blue eyes, the vivacious young woman would draw attention in most places, but far more so in a sleepy, rough-edged place as Heldren. Despite wearing leather armor (clearly untested and worn over what looked like a silk blouse), the girl had none of the telltale signs of a warrior, but rather the wide eyed energy of a noble enjoying the idea of being somewhere ‘dangerous’. With a somewhat reckless grin and eyes that seemed to almost sparkle like starlight as she steps into the shadow of the tavern, she tugs on the arm of the raven haired beauty of similar age entering reluctantly behind her. A single glace at the pair makes it clear which one is the ‘bad influence’ on the other.
The skittish-looking woman who follows - reluctantly, alternating between gigging and looking scandalized - almost seems to shrink into herself as she is dragged, half-unwilling, into the establishment by her shining associate. She looks to her friend, then inside, then back to her friend, quickly shifting her focus in this fashion several times.
"I suppose it could be fun, but aren't there... rough men in these places?" she says, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. Nevertheless, she lets herself be led - or dragged - through the doorway, one hand firmly in Cordelia's grip, the other trying to control the long red dress that descends to her ankles.
Then she notices that the patrons are not all men, speaking in the usage of "men" standing in for "humanity."
Her face falls as she realizes that she has accidentally stepped into something far more dangerous than intended, and a look of worry strikes her face as she says to her friend, "This isn't a bawdy tavern - it's a... an establishment of... I don't know what!"
Her eyes look wide as she suddenly steps in close to her friend and says, "Cordie, we really shouldn't be in here!"
"No we shouldn't but that's part of the excitement." Cordelia whispers with a giggle, though a close look at her eyes hint that she was discovering the denizens to be a bit beyond what she'd expected. "Oh my gods is that a....gnoll?"
Her eyes go wide as she leads her closest friend to a table just vacated by a pair of elves, at least it was likely to be clean, noting the leering gazes of a few of the tavern's denizens as she passes by, her leather breeches drawing quite a few eyes. Compared to wearing a proper dress like Mina was, it felt almost like wearing nothing. A scandalous thought!
Taking a seat and resting the largish satchel over her shoulder on the floor next to her, Cordelia grins as her companion eyes the rough assortment of characters twice before fussing with her dress to sit folding her hands perfectly in her lap. She was always so proper, but that was part of what made Mina...well, Mina.
"Just think of what they might have to eat here....or drink!" she says flashing another wild grin.
Mina clutches at her friend's arm and says, "I think they might eat people." She looks toward the bar, at the server, as if to reassure herself that if the people working here are human, they probably won't be on board with turning the human patrons into dinner. Probably.
"How can you even think of getting tipsy in a place like this? You'd be kidnapped and... and something horrible!" she whispers.
Taking her friend's tone into account Cordelia becomes just a touch more serious. Theer was no doubt that some of the people here were definitely dangerous, perhaps even deadly, and as thrilling as that was she wasn't nearly as foolish as she often seemed on the surface. Mina was one of the few people who saw that. Both somewhat outcasts for different reasons, while Mina's differences drove her to turn inward, secluding herself from society in a way, Cordelia's pushed her to step outside of it's accepted boundaries. And yet she'd let herself get dragged along, because at the end of the day, she was her best friend.
"Then it's a good thing neither of us is as helpless as we look isn't it?" she whispers back with a conspiratorial wink. "But you're right. I'll be careful I promise, no more than one."
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turning to Giovanni, Fral smiles.
I am Fral! Tribe Call me Bloodfeeder, but Fral no Eat other Gnoll so they attack Fral and chase me way.
Fral chugs a decent amount of the mead down as he listens to Giovanni ask his question.
watching the door, he sees the two woman enter. even as a gnoll he found them to be quite beautiful.
If it was hard to feign disinterest in the hairy patrons, it was impossible to ignore the two beautiful women when they walked in. Alec found that he just couldn't keep his eyes off of them. Quite the contrasting pair, they struck a very interesting scene. No doubt all eyes in the room were on them, he had to make his move, and quick. "Barkeep, send the ladies a bottle of wine on my tab."
Mina tugs at Cordelia's arm and says, "All right, let's sit down at least. But somewhere not too far from the door." As she directs Cordie to a nearby seat the bottle of wine arrives. She looks momentarily puzzled, but upon being told it's from the half-elf, she gives a nervous, slightly worried smile, then after she manages to sit down she gives a questioning sort of wave of greeting to their benefactor.
She leans over to Cordie and whispers,
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Giovanni smiles at his new friend.
He looks at the two women as they go to their seats.
Giovanni doesn't notice the 1/2 elf's gesture toward the women...
Leaning over and grinning, Cordelia responds.
Looking over at the half elf she adds her own wave of greeting.
Seeing his gesture was well received, Alec decided to push his luck. With both hands on the bar, he slowly rose to his feet. The ground swayed some but he managed to hold on and not topple over. With measured grace, he slowly placed one foot in front of the other and gradually made his way over to the table occupied by the ladies. A few feet before arriving at the table he stumbled and dropped to one knee. In an effort to save face, he bowed his head and swept his arms out wide, feigning a formal greeting.
"Greetings my dears. I am Alec, Alec Fuornkiln. Please let me be the first to welcome you to Heldren. Tell me, have you noticed the unusual weather sweeping through? Strange times to be wandering the wilds alone."
"We are... just passing through, taking a trip across the south of Taldor. This village has certainly been... quaint," says Mina.
"I am Mina, and this is my friend Cordie. Our families sometimes travel seasonally and we happened to be on such a journey this year."
A rough looking woman enters the Inn, and looks around, pausing long enough to speak in a voice that can be heard all over the inn, "Long Live Taldor, Where we will always be free.!"
"You look like Adventurous types, I have a mission for all of you," she flashes a Wayfinder so that only the group can see "This is of utmost importance, there is a man recovering from wounds in the House of Healing, make haste to him, the Decemvirate have heard whispers that the winter that is starting to cover the world, is of the Witch Queens making.
She smiles and speaks in a louder voice, "Well I hope that this village can help you gather supplies where ever all of you plan to go, have a Blessed Day!" and with that she walks off not answering any questions and seems to be skipping as if nothing was wrong.
"That was... strange," says Mina. "What do we do, Cordie? If what she said is true, then... if the strange weather means a magical winter is coming, we wouldn't be able to get far before the roads were covered in snow."
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Rolph watches the woman enter, listens to her speak, and watches her stride out again. He looks to his companion under raised brows.
Presently, he shrugs. "I guess I'm the 'adventuring type.'" .
The dwarf sets what's left of his beer in front of the towering Ulfen, stands, retrieves his hammer, and walks out of the inn and over to the house of healing.
Alec dared to rest a hand on an empty chair. As he used it to stabilize himself, he stood up, trying hard not to sway. "Mina, Cordie. A pleasure to meet you both. Strange indeed. That woman appears to be afraid of Taldor. Allow me to offer my services. I am a local guide. There are few that know these woods better than I" he boasted.
"That was... strange," says Mina. "What do we do, Cordie? If what she said is true, then... if the strange weather means a magical winter is coming, we wouldn't be able to get far before the roads were covered in snow."
"Very strange!" Cordelia says staring after the odd woman. "I think she believes what she said though, and she's afraid of something. And you're right, it definitely has something to do with Taldor." she says looking at the half elf sharing their table.
"A witch controlling the weather would be bad. Though what she thinks we could do about it I have no idea."
Looking up at Alec standing expectantly then over at Mina she shrugs. "Well it should be interesting at least to hear his story. It should be exciting."
Mina stands up and says, "Well, maybe we can get some news, then - figure out if we'll have to change our route?" She also seems a bit relieved at having an excuse to leave the dive bar.
"Well then, allow me escort you to our healing house. Right this way ladies." Alec turned back and looked at the bar briefly. As his mead sat alone on the bar, he considered going to get it but decided against it. If any of this talk about magic, weather, or witches turned out to be true, he may need a clear head.
"Why thank you!Fancy finding a gentleman out here Mina?" Cordelia titters resting a hand on the Ranger's arm.
"A surprise, to be sure, but a soothing one," she says as she takes the ranger's other arm.
When you enter the house of healing you see a very beaten man, he is cut up, and has severe frost bite on his nose, fingers and toes.
Cough, sputter, hacking and disturbing noises come from the man
Who are all of you? Are you here to laugh at the misfortune to have been ambushed by the...creatures?
"No sir. I would not dare to laugh at such a mighty warrior as yourself. My name is Alec. And this is Mina, and Cordie. Could you tell us who...or what, did this to you? And is that...frostbite? Where did you come from?"
Walking arm in arm with two women, seeing a hobgoblin and a gnoll in the village, and now a beaten and battered man telling his war story; it was all enough to make Alec forget about his father. Even if it was only for a moment, Alec was grateful for the distraction.
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"We're here to help sir, and to listen"
The dwarf approaches the man and examines his extremities, setting his hammer aside. "I've seen burns like these in the mountains.". He touches the first two fingers of his left hand to the birth mark on his forehead and lays the right on the old man's chest.
"Can you tell us what happened?"
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Giovanni pretends not to notice the gnolls praise of witches....
They follow the others.
Rolph, what is this business?
Entering the healing house, Giovanni defers to the dwarf's experience.
Viewing the dwarf's divine gift, Giovanni smiles to himself.
A really good person to have around while hunting witches!