“A crack-pot?” She considers the expression for a moment. “Oh, yes! But I mean to say, no. You are not a crack-pot to be worried about your friend,” Tia says, smiling at the older man. “Point of Rocks, yes, good,” she then nods. “But, Cornelius, Atreus’s elven village, do you know its name? Or its place? In case we have to look elsewhere for him.”
“I have all I need,” the elf assures Corso, reaching behind her and patting the slim pack she had the foresight to bring with her.
Cornelius does not know the name of the village where Atreus lives. "We talked often, but he never used a name, that I am aware of. Just said 'my village' and the like. Point of Rocks is right along the river, inland from Tanner's Crossing. It's on the opposite (south) bank. It is several miles away, and the country is pretty rough, or so I am told. You may want a guide or something to help you along."
Point of Rocks is a pretty familiar landmark to those who ply the river It is, as the name implies, a massive rock formation that sticks out over the water and can be seen from many miles away. It is said the view from the top is very impressive.
“A guide?” Tia scoffs. “I live here, you forget! No, we will be finding our way to Point of Rocks very well on our own, I think.” She smiles at Cornelius. “Have no fear. When we return, it will be with word of your friend.”
Without any additional preparation the pair of new friends leaves the White Wolf Inn, and head to towards the river. There they find the troop of dwarves working busily on the bridge which will soon span the flow, but for now, like it has been, they must rely on the ferry, Old Tanner himself, to cross.
"Lots of folks crossing this morning," remarks Tanner as he helps you aboard and starts the crank that pulls the raft across despite the heavy current. "And where are you folks off to, then?"
Vinexa entered the inn nervously, she had only recently gotten enough freedom to go about alone in the colony, and found the place interesting. It was made of dead things, like most Alderan structures, but she'd gotten used to it the last few years. There were plenty of people around and more than a few startled looks in her direction. She'd learned just how rare half-elves were since her exile began but nothing had made it stick like living in this place.
Vinexa smiled nervously at those who looked at her and made her way to a small table where there was an empty seat. The only reason she figured it was empty was because there was only room for two people at it and that suited her just fine. When one of the serving girls came by and asked for her order Vinexa said nervously, "I'm not sure what I want," she gave the woman a pleading look as she asked, "what would you suggest?"
The serving girl stops and looks at Vinexa quizzically for a few moments, staring in a not-so-polite way. "Well, do you eat normal food or do you need some special diet because of your...you know?"
Embarrassed as soon as the question leaves her mouth, the dark-haired girl says, "Never mind, I'll just bring some bread and ale. You can start with that." And she hurries away, casting a sidelong glance behind more than is really necessary.
The inn common room is busy, but not really bustling. There are a few empty tables and few seats at the long mahogany bar with a gleaming brass rail. A troop of dwarves, which has obviously been imbibing together for a little too long, slowly winds down in one corner, several of the members passed out in their chairs while the rest chant a song in some strange tongue.
The door seems to swing a little heavier as the next entrant comes into the common room of the inn. Heavy boots plod along, and any who look up to find the source notice a fairly tall human in a near-full enveloping gray cloak, which hides whether or not he's carrying much of anything on him. Except for the sword. Slung diagonally across his back is greatsword comfortably tucked into a worn leather scabbard.
He throws back the hood to reveal a mostly-clean (shaven) face with his black hair pulled back in a pony-tail. He's not the youngest warrior, but he's far from the end of his prime. Most notable, because of how clean he looks many in the tavern who know him understand that he hasn't yet gotten new work after escorting the dwarven bridge company here to Tanner's Crossing.
He comfortably shifts his greatsword off of his back, and onto the nearest unoccupied table. Then out of the hiding of his cloak comes an efficiently packed backpack. He looks up at the nearest barmaid and inquires softly, is Top around?
She gives him a knowing look that says Still looking for work, eh?, without drawing too much attention to him, understanding that he wouldn't prefer this.
Vinexa noticed the woman's reaction to her but ignored it. She'd grown used to being stared at as this woman was and it no longer really bothered her. As the woman asked about dietary needs she was about to respond when the woman took off. Shrugging she'd tell her the answer when she returned.
As Vinexa waited she noticed the dwarves singing drunkenly. She didn't know their words but the tune was not too off key. It was around then that she noticed the tall man enter the place. Her eyes followed him as he moved to a table as she observed him. He was rather handsome, for a human, and certainly muscular enough, but her attention was eventually drawn away as she continued to look around the tavern.
Zamaris walked into the White Wolf tavern, wondering if there were actually any white wolves in this town, and whether the name was a sign of respect for the wolves or perhaps a victory over them in battle.
She was pleased to see a human and also some dwarves, and very surprised to see a green-haired elf. She looked different than her tribe, but most elves did since they did not carry the blood of dragons. She wondered if her tribe were of the woodland sort, perhaps worshipping Aradia through their affinity with plants.
Well, she wasn't here for that, but given time, she would have to talk to her and find out, out of curiosity at least.
The human looks busy talking to the barmaid, so she decides to start with the dwarves. She approaches their table, and says
What song are you singing? May I learn it?
As Vinexa watches, she sees Argen enter the common room. He heads to the bar looking for Top. The human warrior waits at the rail and soon enough Top comes out with a bar-towel over one shoulder. "Aye, lad. What can I do for ye?"
The troop of dwarves, which are all well into their cups, sees Argen and let out a roar of approval. "There's the boyo! Someone buy that man a drink!" and soon enough Argen is swarmed at the bar by a half-dozen liquory dwarves, who insist on buying him drinks and hugging him in big sweaty embraces.
Zamaris enters the public room just as the dwarves start in another chorus of another rowdy drinking song. They soon are putting mugs of ale in the elf's hands as well, treating her as a long-lost member of the tribe, especially since she speaks the language.
From her spot at the table, Vinexa dines on the bread, which is hot and fresh, and her own mug of ale which is refilled as often as she likes.
As Vinexa watches, she sees Argen enter the common room. He heads to the bar looking for Top. The human warrior waits at the rail and soon enough Top comes out with a bar-towel over one shoulder. "Aye, lad. What can I do for ye?"
Hey Top, how are you today? Well, it's been since I brought these dwarves here that I've had any work. I could move onto the next town or back to the port and then the old kingdom, but I'd rather my next extensive travel come with pay. Have you caught wind of anyone moving through that would like protection, and isn't just taking Tanner's little ferry down the river?
He looks at the proprietor expectantly, as if today will be the day.
The troop of dwarves, which are all well into their cups, sees Argen and let out a roar of approval. "There's the boyo! Someone buy that man a drink!" and soon enough Argen is swarmed at the bar by a half-dozen liquory dwarves, who insist on buying him drinks and hugging him in big sweaty embraces.
Argen gets a resigned, slightly embarrassed look, revealing that the dwarf swarm was exactly what he was trying to avoid, knowing what they're like when they're drunk.
No no no, boys. I'd like to stay sober until I secure my next job, at least! Well, okay, maybe just one.
He obliges, hoping it causes them to get it out of their system and move on from him soon so he can focus on prospective leads Top might have, or serendipitous interest from newcomers to the tavern.
Zamaris takes the opportunity to sing with the dwarves, although she passes the ale on to someone else every time it is passed to her, not wanting to impair her observations. She attempts to gather information from them about how they like this new land, where they are staying, and whether more of them are likely to come... all in a jovial, lighthearted way, of course. :)
The bread was actually rather tasty, all things considered, and the ale was alright. She'd never been one for alcoholic beverages so she slowly sipped it. She was surprised to see another elf in the place, surprised and very nervous, and hoped this one didn't know who she was. If she did things could get very messy very fast.
See,you are worthless to them, they hate you, you should bring them all down, said the foul inner voice of her hag side. The loathsome witch kept trying to drive Vinexa further from those who might support her and deeper into despair and hatred.
Vinexa shook her head firmly at the voice and in her mind said, No, you are wrong, my fans care for me.
Your fans lust for you, they don't care for you beyond their carnal desires and you know it.
You're wrong witch, and I'll prove it to you.
Oh, and how will you do that?
Just watch!
Vinexa picked up her bread and ale and then stood. She looked to where where the gathered dwarves were along with the human and elf and walked towards them. Determined and confident at the moment Vinexa reached the group and asked, "Can I join you?"
A tall man with a very rigid posture came through the front door of the White Wolf, his scale armour gleaming in yellows and reds with a rather intimidatingly large blade across his back. His face is unreadable for a moment before removing the hawk-like helmet to reveal a rather young and handsome looking face.
Carefully making his way through the tables, so as not to inadvertently strike people with his sheathed blade, the man arrives at the bar and asks, "Are you the proprietor of this establishment?"
Zamaris sees the green-haired elf approaching, and when she asks if she can join, Zamaris says
Sure! I'm guessing you don't know dwarven, but I can translate for you if anything comes up you don't understand. Here, sit by me. Do you prefer elven or common?
Top nods along with Argen's request. "Think you've missed your call. There were a few interesting groups in here earlier, but they went about their business last night or early this morning. These dwarves were in her last night, but there was more of 'em, if anything...I'll see what I can hear about an let you know." Top turns to the newcomer who is dressed in heavy armor, Argen notices, before he is dragged off to drink with the pungent builders.
One of the dwarves, a hearty fellow named Refkell pulls Argen aside. "Aye, the barkeep has the right o' it, lad. Two o' are number, Thorm and Dusi went missin' overnight. Rumor is they wen't over to the darkside, ye ken. Tha's why were drinkin' tonight, like a wake, ye see?"
Zamaris, watching with a detached eye, the carousing of the dwarves, and she picks up that two of the builders are missing and that these dwarves are a bit upset by their departure, so they are drowning their sorrows. Exactly what happened is unclear, but they reference the "darkside" and the "maker" quite often.
Her study is interrupted as a green-haired elf approaches and the two begin to chat. Zamaris notices something not quite right about Vinexa, but can't exactly put her finger on it.
Vinexa sees and approaches the full-blooded silver elf, anticipating nothing but rejection. She tolerates, barely, the dwarves milling about but sits with Zamaris, surprised to be invited.
Jorah is happy to hear the noise and bustle of the common room of the Inn. Often of late, he has been in solitude and the company is welcome. Standing at the brass rail, he asks the man behind the bar and hears: "Aye, lad. I am Top Cartwright at your service. Welcome to the White Wolf and to Tanner's Crossing. A drink or a bite to eat, son? Or perhaps you need a pillow to rest your head?"
The place seems to be full of dwarves, but a large muscular man stands in their midst, and two striking elven women sit together nearby. The rest of the public room seems to be full of common folk engaged in everday discussion over dinner or a mug of beer.
Jorah's eyes catch on one man in the back corner who sits at the table with a dark cloak thrown over his head obscuring his features.
Top nods along with Argen's request. "Think you've missed your call. There were a few interesting groups in here earlier, but they went about their business last night or early this morning. These dwarves were in her last night, but there was more of 'em, if anything...I'll see what I can hear about an let you know." Top turns to the newcomer who is dressed in heavy armor, Argen notices, before he is dragged off to drink with the pungent builders.
He nods at the barkeep. Appreciate it, Top.
One of the dwarves, a hearty fellow named Refkell pulls Argen aside. "Aye, the barkeep has the right o' it, lad. Two o' are number, Thorm and Dusi went missin' overnight. Rumor is they wen't over to the darkside, ye ken. Tha's why were drinkin' tonight, like a wake, ye see?"
Argen's face falls solemn. No... after all this way you've all come. Where were they last seen? Perhaps they still live! I can go look.
Noticing that the dwarves seem to be missing some of their kin, Zamaris asks
Who has gone missing? And what do you mean by "darkside"?
She assumes that "maker" refers to their deity, and so saves a question about that for later.
____
She translates for Vinexa, explaining that some dwarves have gone missing.
She ignores the nagging feeling of something "not-quite-right" since she can't yet identify a reason for it. Perhaps it is just a personal bias against green hair, after all. She continues to observe.
It was a relief that she wasn't outright rejected by the silver haired elf and took the offered seat saying, "Either language is fine though I'm more comfortable with elven." She continued to eat and sip her ale as Zamaris translated the conversation for her and nodded along as she comprehended the dwarves problem. "It's concerning that their friends would be missing."
Hah! I knew you didn't have it in you, you haven't told her your name yet coward, the evil voice in Vinexa's head hollard at her.
Annoyed Vinexa thought back, I'm getting there hag so be quiet, I'll do things in my own time and not when you want me too.
It was only a slight distraction from what was happening, that quick conversation, and when she began to pay attention again she continued to pay attention to what Zamaris translated for her.
"Some food would be excellent, and I most certainly would like a bed for the evening. What are your rates?"
Jorah's eyes lingered on the elven women for an extra couple seconds. He had never seen such beings before in his life, and they were truly beautiful. Seeing the figure in the dark cloak made his guardsman instincts go to alert. That one may need watching.
Zamaris learns that Dusi and Thorm have gone missing. They were two builders who came with the rest of the troop from Redmont Castle. They do not tell you anything about the darkside, though it is clear it is not a good thing.
Vinexa shares her concern once the dwarvish is translated for her.
Jorah gets some venison stew and a loaf of fresh bread and butter for dinner. The price for a room with meals is 1 gold crown per night, but it includes 3 square meals per day. You can also rent just a bed in the dormitory for 1 silver sail, but meals are extra, about 3sp per meal. He keeps an eye on the stranger in the hood from time to time, but the man doesn't seem to move around or speak to anyone, almost as if he is watching something himself.
Argen commiserates with the other dwarves about their lost companions. "Aye," growls a red-bearded dwarf named Olin. "I ken you should speak with Osur. He is greatly concerned about the mission if dwarves are leaving or going dark. He's at the camp and would take kindly to your appearance, especially if you had a strong crew with ye."
If we can hear, Zamaris volunteers to go along and help.
If not, she asks where Dusi and Thorm were seen last, and if it would be worthwhile to go find them and try to save them.
He knows I work alone. Why does he want me to enlist reinforcements? I sense something is afoot...
Argen focus on Olin, thinking that there's something else that he's not letting on. But, he may be too drunk to fully explain.
Giving his slight lack of funds, Jorah decided to rent a bed in the dorm and pay for this evening's meal. If he was going to find his brother, he was going to have to find work. While eating, a thought occurred to him about the cloaked stranger. Perhaps he has work.
After finishing his food, the guardsman made his way across the tavern. "Excuse me sir, may I have a seat?"
Argen cannot get any more telling information out of Olin or any of the other dwarves at least not readily.
Jorah finishes his meal and then, ignoring the dwarves and their troubles, he goes to sit with the hooded figure, foisting himself on the man who was sitting in solitude the moment before.
Taken aback, the man responds with a bit of stammer. "Of-of-of course. Have a seat if you like, sirrah. Do I know you?" he is barely polite and does not offer his name or hand right away.
After getting information from the dwarves that Osur Stouthammer might have additional information about the disappearance, and where he can be found, she determines to visit the man, not only wanting to solve the mystery of the disappearance, but also wondering about the things that the dwarves were pointedly not saying. She needed more information to add to her journal.
She again translates the conversation for Vinexa, and then adds (still in Elven)
I think that is all we are going to get about the mystery from this lot. I'm really curious about how people could be missing and presumably not dead, but they are still being mourned as though they were. Perhaps a religious thing? Do you think they broke a dwarven taboo? Do you want to come with me to talk to this Osur Stouthammer? I'm Zamaris by the way. I think I forgot to introduce myself earlier. I apologize.
With the information the dwarves had seemingly at an end Vinexa considered whether she wanted to get involved with helping them. She did need the money that would likely come as a reward, though she wasn't about to ask for it, and the chance to be around another elf for a while was alluring. She missed her people, even if she wasn't truly one of them, and knew that it wasn't likely to last once her name was revealed, something that was about to happen as Zamaris introduced herself. Vinexa nodded at Zamaris as she gave her name and spoke in the same language in response.
Argen leans in close to Olin, keeping his sympathetic expression, hoping to make it clear that he's trying to level with him.
Olin, I want to help, but anything you know about the situation can help with that. I got the lot of you this far.
Zamaris smiles and responds to Vinexa.
Nice to meet you, Vinexa. And well spoken. Let's go find out.
In Dwarven she thanks the dwarves for their enjoyable company, and says that she hopes to see them again soon. Then she gets up, waiting for Vinexa to do the same, and heads towards the door.
"Those boyos have gone over the Dark Side, laddie. Not sure that Big Folk unnerstan' 'bout the Dark, but its a feeling that's in all dwarf's. 'Specially builders and such. The Maker has two sides, ya see, an' while most dwarf's is good and build for beauty an' skill, there are some tha' go to t' Dark Side, an' build fer evil. Since we came to this place, Tanner's, the call has been reaching out to all of us."
As he says this a tear rolls down his face and drops off the end of his nose and he snuffles miserably.
Taking his seat Jorah said, "You seem a bit nervous good sir, might one inquire as to the why?"
The man recovers pretty quickly. "Not nervous, you just startled me. I was deep in thought. Now, pray, what can I do for you?"
"I get the feeling you're looking for something....or someone." Jorah glanced at the Dwarves, having overheard some of their conversations inadvertently. Looking back to the man, "I am curious what or who that might be."
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Argen leans back in his chair and sighs.
I see... so what you're saying is that even if I can bring back Dusi and Thorm, there are more of you at risk of turning? Is there a source of this "call", that perhaps I could suppress? Was coming here a mistake?
Vinexa and Zamaris
The pair of elven ladies leave the Inn of the White Wolf and head for the dwarven encampment near the Lune River. They find the dwarves' camp, a small circle of tents with a wooden palisade constructed around it, easy enough.
There is dwarf guard at the entrance to the palisade fence that greets the women gruffly. "Foreman Stouthammer is indisposed to visitors, but I can leave a message if you like." is about the best you can get without more charming efforts.
Argen
Olin relates no more about the strange phenomenon no matter how you ask. He acts as if he's broken taboo by speaking about it at all. The rest of the dwarves stagger or slump out of the tavern leaving a strange silence where there was the noise of revelry before.
Jorah
"Well friend, whoever you may be," says the hooded man with some bitterness in his voice. "Curiosity killed the cat, as they say. And if I am looking for someone here, I don't know what business it is of yours." He seems put-off but as far as you can tell, he is not lying or prevaricating. "But wait," he adds quickly before you can get too offended or leave. "I am always in need of talented people. What talents do you have, besides rudely intruding on those who might prefer solitude?"
While the man does seem to be telling the truth, mostly, it is evident he is also taking your measure.
Argen drops his head into his folded arms on the bartop in frustration for only a very brief moment.
It's still early in the day, I'll go talk to Osur at your camp first, then I'll see about forming a crew...
The warrior slings his gear and greatsword onto his back and casually exits the tavern, heading to the Dwarven encampment....
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Vinexa felt a wash of relief roll through her at Zamaris' reaction to her name. She had feared the other would know of her and her circumstances and treat her like the others. She rose along with Zamaris, waved goodbye to the dwarves, and quickly paid her tab before saying to Zamaris,
When Vinexa and Zamaris reached their destination she let Zamari do her thing and listened what she found out. It was disappointing that they were being turned away but she considered and said to her,
Jorah was taking measure of the man, he reminded the guardsman of a wily woman back in his hometown that could sweet talk almost any man into doing anything she wanted.
"Please forgive the intrusion, my Town Guard instincts sometimes get the better of me. As far as talents, a strong arm and stout heart are what I possess."