Trouble seems to find Falcon's Hallow. Usually it is the down and out working for the Lumber Consortium. Can the wizards who have found themselves here change that?
The small village of Falcon’s Hollow is a wild place. Nestled in the shadow of Droskar’s Crag, the people of Falcon’s Hollow are hearty and stern. Theirs is a life of hardships, broken only occasionally by a handful of festivals and the infrequent merchant caravan. They face constant adversity from both the wilderness and the wiles of man. Wolves nip at their heels and cutpurses ply at their pockets. It is a testament to their strength that they even manage to survive at all.
—Pathfinder Chronicles
Perched at the edge of civilized lands, the small town of Falcon’s Hollow has always had to rely on itself to solve its problems. Meanwhile, the uncaring lumber barons squeeze the common folk for every last copper, deaf to their pleas. Now the hacking coughs of the sick are heard throughout town. The plague has come to Falcon’s Hollow and the town’s leaders can’t be bothered to stop it.
Tore sits down in Jak’a’Napes and gets many looks from the humans in the establishment. Jak himself comes up with a mug of ale and a plate of flapjacks. The smell of cinnamon wafts off the flapjacks. As Tore begins to protest Jak says ”One ale and one plate of flapjacks and I’ll run you a tab.” He then stares in Tore’s eyes for a moment and smiles and he makes sure Tore sees his eyes cover the rest of the room.
When Jak returns to the bar a catfolk walks into the inn and up to the bar and orders cream. Jak rolls his eyes as all of the heads in the room turn toward Felos. Jak smiles kindly and says ”Have a seat over there and I will bring you something.” He points to a table with a oread sitting at it looking perplexed at the plate of flapjacks sitting in front of him. Jak then approaches with a plate and a mug. He says loud enough for the whole room to hear, ”One ale and one plate of flapjacks and I’ll run you a tab.” Felos looks in the mug and sees cream in the mug.
A dwarf in robes walks in as Jak is on his way back to the bar. He points to the table with the other two mages and says ”I’ll bring you a drink and something to eat.” The rest of the crowd hardly looks up at the dwarf. Jak brings a mug and a plate of flapjacks over and says, ”One ale and one plate of flapjacks and I’ll run you a tab.”
An elf then enters the bar covered in dust from the road. Jak looks up and smiles and points him to a table with three people already there as if he has seen this story before. He walks over with a mug and a plate and says ”One wine and one plate of flapjacks and I’ll run you a tab.” The local matrons eye him for a moment and then go back to their drinking.
Two humans then walk in, about 20 feet apart. Jack points to the quickly filling table and says ”Have a seat and I’ll be right with you.” He then disappears and reappears with two mugs and two plates of flapjacks. He nods to each and says ”One ale and one plate of flapjacks and I’ll run you a tab.” He then looks around the room and then to the door and nods as if satisfied that all is done. He walks over to the bar and begins to polish it.
A dwarf in robes walks in as Jak is on his way back to the bar. He points to the table with the other two mages and says ”I’ll bring you a drink and something to eat.” The rest of the crowd hardly looks up at the dwarf. Jak brings a mug and a plate of flapjacks over and says, ”One ale and one plate of flapjacks and I’ll run you a tab.
Torgald sat down, heavily. A large book was slung over his back. The book was large. Nearly as large as the dwarf's torso. It's cover was, for the most part, made out of metal causing it to weigh far more than a book of it's size would normally be. Such a weight would help explain the dwarf's rather well-defined muscles. A careful look at the book would show that what appeared to be ornament was actually hand-holds, so that the book could be gripped with two hands, which would turn it into an improvised club.
Looking around the bar, he could not help but wonder what brought these others to such an out of the way place. Were they looking to plunder the ruins of his people? He pushed the thought aside. He had no proof that any had done anything wrong. It was not honorable to rush to judgement.
Felos paws at the flapjacks and gives one a try. Finding the butter on the cakes delicious he consents to eat them while lapping at his mug of acceptable cream.
His table companions are certainly interesting. Felos pokes the shoulder of the rocky individual, surprised to find that it was still pliable—though unusually stiff—flesh. He returns to his mug of cream, his whiskers twitching as he restrains himself from giving the man another poke.
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The dark haired elf sat quietly at the table as he considered the plate in front of him. After raising an eyebrow, he reached out with one of his fingers and poked at the doughy cake occupying the plate. “Surly this is a human creation.” He stated in a curious tone. After considering the beverage that accompanied the cake he grimaced slightly before shrugging it off. “I suppose it could just as easily be a Dwarven creation.” He concluded in a less than favorable tone.
After leaning a well-crafted elven longbow against the table, the elf takes a moment to consider the rest of the patrons in the establishment and their methodology of consuming the flapjacks. After witnessing more than a few people apply a sticky syrup to the cake before eating them, he decides to follow the tradition before attempting his first bit. Once soaked with the rich syrup the elf cuts a small piece of the cake using the edge of his fork and then then proceeds with the sample.
An surprised look forms on the elf’s face as he slowly chews the small piece of flapjack. ”Well now, that was surprisingly much better than I thought it would be.” He states while cutting off a much larger piece of the cake.
"The rocky individual" turns an looks at the cat. His eyes sort the details after just a few minutes, weighing what he sees and some how sure he can ignore the creature. He glances around as each new companion arrives at the table. Each one he looks over and evaluates before taking a different approach to each.
The dwarf with the large book warrants a cautious nod and an adjustment to the placement of the quarterstaff resting at ease by his side.
The elf actually elicits a small under the breathe whistle. That's one I wouldn't expect here
He slowly and methodically scans the room looking over each of the occupants.
He notices several lumber jacks and quickly dismisses many of the occupants. Finally his eyes settle on the book wielding dwarf, once again.
Come far? and are you going further? He casually remarks. Then as an aside to the catfolk...hope your going further with your poking fingers and all.
”Mrrrwr,” Felos replies. ”I came here to find darkwood trees. I’ve always wanted to climb one. But it seems that there’s some kind of sickness here. And there’s a disease, too.”
The second of the humans gives the barkeep a confused look but follows his barked instructions to the nearly full table. When he arrives and finds the motley assortment of people gathered there--none of whom look like they belong in this settlement--he forces a smile and offers, "John Billings Bryant, of the Oregent Billingses," as he sits.
When the barkeep arrives a moment later with ale and flapjacks he protests, "no, I didn't order..." but trails off when the proprietor ignores him and returns to the bar. "I see," he remarks with a bit of a scowl as he turns his attention to what is apparently his breakfast. He apprehensively takes a bite before looking back to the menagerie of fellow outsiders gathered at the table and asking, "so, what brings all of you so far off the beaten path?"
Torgald narrowed his eyes at Tore. "An oread, aye? Well, Son of Stone." Torgald said, feeling that there was some affinity between his people and the scions of the plane of earth "Came far, aye. But won't be goin' much further. Me people once lived in these parts, before disaster and tragedy laid us low. I have come to learn and to preserve what may be found. What brings ye." He then looked around, with a slightly wary eye "All of ye." He added. "To these parts?"
I come to obtain a weapon that does me proud. And to see what I can learn from those who have come before. If we can find anything from them. The oread drawls in a rather bored tone.
Torgald's eyes narrowed abit at the talk of finding a weapon. Had he come to the ruins of his people looking for such? It made sense. And he supposed that he could not fault the man. But was there a specific one that he was looking for? Slowly he said "A worthy goal. What did ye say yer name was, lad?"
I am Tore Galyna. Although there are rumors of ancient strongholds, it isn't one of those I seek. I want a crafted darkwood staff. I have always coveted one and I am told that it is here I may be able to obtain one. the stone one says, then a little quieter so just the dwarf can hear, You have no need to fear my designs for your past glory he says with a well guessed assumption.
”Then we seek the same thing. I want to find a big darkwood tree to climb and sit in its branches, then you want to lop one of them off to make a staff. Perhaps we can work together to find one.”
”After that, we can find some dwarven ruins to loot and pillage and defile in the name of six elven gods,” he adds, carefully not looking at the dwarf, but with his lips twitching in the great effort not to grin.
”Hmph. Humor. Overrated.” The dwarf said, dryly. Turning away from Felos he looked at Tore and said ”I harbor no ill will to those who would use what my kinsmen made. I just ask for respect. Perhaps.” He paused. ”Perhaps we could help each other. Crafting of all kinds is the blessed work of Torag. If I accompany ye on this search, would ye lend a hand on mine?” He had been planning to check the book of grudges for Tore’s name, but he did not see the need to do so just yet.
Also ignoring the dwarf for now, Felos turns to the peculiar not-quite human, and says, ”I’m Felos, of the Macridi Feloses. Of course, there’s only one Felos in Macridi. Well, actually, there are currently NO Feloses in Macridi, because I’m here, but normally I’m of the Macridi Feloses, being the only Felos of Macridi.”
Felos sips his cream and stares unblinking at the dandy.
With short hair the fellow who walks in is rather not all that noticable wearing travel clothing that might fit in at any city and pulls himself up a chair and is surprised when food and drink are brought and nods at the inn keep who gives him a tab. that was a nice start Alphonso thought
Companionship is always welcome, Torgald. Galyna says as he reaches over to pet the cats head...this one should come too, its always nice to have a mascot.
Felos’ good-natured grin freezes in place as the oread commits the unforgivable sin. He doesn’t look at either the dwarf or the oread—in fact, he stares off into space, willing everybody else in the room to fall into a deep pit and die rather than witness his shame. His ears lay back against his head and his tail, previously wrapped around a chair leg, appears over his shoulder, twitching back and forth like an irate cobra. But still he smiles.
”A dwarf and a rock—not the most original of companions, I suppose. Somebody needs to keep you both from being taken down by killer moss.”
Torgald glanced at the feline and then mentally shrugged, returning to his pancakes. ”As I said. Humor is overrated.”
John looks incredulously at the dwarf when he ask what brought everyone to town.
apparently there's an echo in here... I wonder if he was trying to get a rise out of me... he doesn't seem like the humorous type... so, was he being rude on purpose or is he too oblivious to notice I had just asked that... its hard to say one way or another with dwarves...
When the catman addresses him, the mostly-human dandy snaps out of his bemused revery. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Felos of Macridi," he answers, "I'm afraid my own reason for being here is not quite so lofty as climbing a nice tree... I simply needed a change of scenery for a while so I caught a boat up here to spend some time away from Oregent."
He resumes quietly listening to the other conversations until the mood around the table suddenly becomes awkward. Shifting uncomfortably in his seat he tries to redirect the conversation by offering, "I've only just arrived in town, have the rest of you been here long?"
Nods as he gobbles the food and drinks it down and then looks around to see if anyone isnt eating and says with his mouth full miiindd if I hav that in between slurping and munching it looks like he hasn't eaten in days
The elf at the table sits quietly and nods respectfully as each occupant introduces themselves. (Truly an interesting group of individuals). He thinks to himself as he considers the different reasons for each of the tables occupants for being where they are. As the conversation begins to slowly tapper off, with commentary that seems a bit charged, he sits his half empty glass of wine down and begins to introduce himself.
“Well met everyone. I am Alwin Oakenheel and it’s truly a pleaser to meet each and every one of you. It sounds like everyone has such an interesting destiny. Some more simple than others, but interesting none the less. That being said, it sounds like my path isn’t much different in many ways. I have always been a collector of my people’s history. I believe that the relics of our past bookmark a timeline that seems to endure the passage of time. Unfortunately, not everyone in my culture agrees with such ideology. Many believe that such artifacts should be locked up, never to be seen again. This brings me to my current situation. Due to a misunderstanding that happened during an attempt to procure an artifact of historical value, I was forced to relocate. So, it looks like this location is as good as any to reestablish and start over.”
After completing his lengthy introduction, he picks up his half-full glass of win and takes a small sip. “If adventuring is what everyone is looking for, I am game for anything that potentially allows for the reclamation of history and (or) any artifacts of the past.”
Alwin dabs his lips with a dinner towel that had been draped across his lap. “I suppose finding a tree along the way might not be too difficult or distracting, so I am game for that as well.” After finishing his flapjacks, he sits back in his chair and once again begins listening to the others at the table.
”So long as the works of me people are treated with respect, then I’ve nat issue with workin’ alongside ye, elfling.” Torgald said. ”It would be good to walk alongside someone with a proper eye for history.” Then, after sipping his ale, he added ”Not that I’d accuse any here of that, of course.”
When the unidentified human breaks his silence to impose upon the other strangers for their remaining food, John makes the move from tentatively picking at his food to actually eating it. He looks apprehensively, but appraisingly, around the table when the others start talking about adventuring.
I've been seated with mad-men... they've known each other for all of several minutes and they're already talking about having adventures together... I suppose, though, if they all came here with goals in mind that require some kind of adventure it does make sense to band together... laying low until a scandal blows over isn't exactly grounds for an adventure, but this town seems painfully low on quality opportunities for gainful employment while I'm here... perhaps helping to recover some historical artifacts could be a chance to support myself while in exile...
Swallowing his current bite of bland chewy flapjack, the well-dressed man offers, "I've not done any adventuring before, but I do know a bit about caring for the wounded... if you plan to undertake anything dangerous in the pursuit of these artifacts, I could be persuaded to accompany you in exchange for fair compensation."
Tore slides his plate to the hungry man and lets him have it. He retains his drink for now however. When the man begins to slow, What has made you so ravenous? It is like you haven't eaten in weeks. Do tell?
Alphonso grabs the second plate and eats some more with a quick nod and smile saying been down on my luck, hard to make coin at the family job when you can't afford tools and no one needs an apprentice. Name is Berdiz nice to meet you all, thanks for the food.
Down on your luck..Luck has nothing to do with life. Skill does. Tell me what might your skills be and maybe I can find a way to use them and you make a bit as well. the stone sentinel speaks.
Alphonso leans back and says as he pays his stomach I am a jeweller who crafts rings but it's all who you know there along with skill. Alphonso holds out his two hands each with a ring on them which he had made saying further other then this I have a few odds and ends sort of skills.
well maybe not he says with a shrug.
Seems your a bit out of practice.Tore says with a chuckle. Oh well join with this ragged lot and we might all get some practice with something. He says looking around at the now assembling team and mascot.
well a guy could always use a few coins, but besides cheap parlor tricks and such I really hope you aren't bringing me along to have my face wacked by monsters and such because I am not the "getting my face wacked" kind of fellow really Alphonso says in his Nome de plume Berditz.
"Aren't really selling yerself, lad." Torgal said to Alphonso. "If explorin' ruins, and ye want a share, then ye should explain what ye do besides parlor tricks and the honorable craft of ring crafting. I'm sure there's more to ye than that, aye?"
Ooooh! Rings? I love rings! I have one here. It makes pretty red light when you put it in the sunlight.” Felos shows off his garnet ring. ”My teacher let me have it when I finished my spells training, since I couldn’t figure out how to summon a bird friend.”
Light from a nearby lamp filters through his ring, casting a red light onto the table for a brief moment. Felos slaps his hand down on the light, but then it’s gone. He shrugs and goes back to his mug of cream.
The hacking coughs of some of the patrons grow louder as the group of wizards sits and talks. Jak returns to the table and says "If you are looking for adventure the place to start may be by putting a stop to this plague. Laurel at Roots and Remedies is where I would start. If you are leaving that's 1 silver each. If you are staying I'll keep your tab open."
”I said there was a sickness. No offence, but if you’re a plague town, why are there no warnings to stay away? When a catfolk a community gets a spreading disease, it’s cut off until the sickness is gone. It’s sad to lose those people, but better than the whole countryside being infected.”
Alwin leans back in his chair as he considers Jak’s recommendation. “I don’t think it is to fare of a stretch to try and help with the problem. After all, if any of us are planning on sticking around, it would be in our best interest to nip this thing in the bud. For me, I’m up for giving it a shot. That being said, I’m not entirely sure how much help we can be in solving a medical problem such as this.” After sliding his empty plate forward, Alwin turns to jak. “I will be running that tab. For now, I still see opportunity here, even if the town is somewhat sick.”
Jak, is Laurel's shop open now? If so can you give us directions? I suppose we can atleast see what she knows about this before we decide. the stone man asks.
"Berditz" slides a silver out of his pocket bad pays up and says fine fine, for a chance of a few coin and so that I don't get sick I will come along, you've convinced me
John fishes a silver piece out of his pocket and pays the barkeep, explaining, "I'm not one to take on a debt lightly, even if I do intend to stay a while."
Turning back to his new acquaintances, he offers, "I know a little bit about sicknesses and their cures, and I have some interest in stopping a plague, especially one I might already have been exposed to. So, I'll certainly accompany anyone heading to this Laurel's shop."
Jak smiles at the group and says "Laurel is just three doors down the North Road. You can't miss it." while pointing in the direction of the shop. He then comes closer to Alwin and whispers "You misunderstood me. I meant I would run a tab as long as you decided to stay and eat and drink, not as long as you were in town. It happens." and he smiles kindly at Alwin.
Looking a bit surprised, Alwin digs out a silver coin and slides it over to Jak. (I suppose I will adjust to these customs eventually.) After recovering from the misunderstanding, Alwin retrieves an ornately carved longbow that had been leaning against the table beside him. “Well it looks like we have a new destination.” he states in a way that sounds more like a question than a statement. After dabbing his mouth lightly with a small cloth that had been sitting on his lap, he stands and walks over to the establishment's front door.
Casually flipping a silver to Jak, Tore stands up and grabs his gear. He looks quickly over what he has to make sure nothing is left behind.
Alwin glances over at Tore as he prepares to leave “Correct me if I’m wrong but isn’t it customary, in an establishment such as this, to come in and make yourself comfortable, order a meal, eat the meal, and then pay for it before your leave?”
Felos also hands over the silver. "My compliments to your cow," he says as he gathers his stuff and follows the others.
Some customs dictate that and many follow such customs. Tore replies to Alwin. Yes compliments to the cow it has kept the cat well cared for and a happy mascot is a good one.
Alwin looks a bit perplexed for a moment then follows up with a second inquiry. “Then what would be the difference between that custom and running a tab, which you pay before you leave? This whole adjustment to human culture seems a bit daunting.” After slipping his pack over his shoulder he politely opens the door for the rest of the group.
Felos rounds on Tore. ”I am no more a cat than you are a butt-ugly rock, though superficial appearances may hint otherwise.” His tail twitches angrily.
To Alain, he adds, ”In some towns, the owner of a place like this would be able to trust customers not to run off without paying first, so he wouldn’t have to insist on payment during the meal, and would be able to trust that most customers would honestly return another day to pay off a tab. Unfortunately, this doesn’t seem to be that kind of town. Hopefully we can do some good around here and maybe one day it will be.”
John refrains from getting involved with the discussion of human customs and trustworthiness. He does, however, rise and follow the others to the door. "I wonder if we shouldn't find some sort of masks if we're going to pursue this?" he says to nobody in particular, "In the books I've read plague doctors always have some kind of mask."
The group heads out and turns to the left. True to Jak's word just up the street is a building with a long line out the door. Creeping ivy and full window boxes cover the façade of the rugged-looking, two-story shop bearing the faded sign “Roots and Remedies.” A line of twenty-some somber townsfolk—some with pale, wheezing children, others seeming to be precipitously near tears—stretches from the open door.
Alphonso "Berditz" follows along keeping a sharp eye as he does for anything of interest besides where they are going.
”Looks like goin’ in now is a sure way of getting the plague. We should wait until the line is done with before.” The dwarf said, eyeing the line warily.