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The West Restin river winds across Lendore Isle towards the Aerdi Sea. The Long Road runs beside it, ending at Restenford, the largest town in the southern portion of Lendore Isle.
The Dweomer Forest sits to your left, oak, beech, elm and ash dense and uninviting—except for the unnaturally neat and clear paths that dot the forest's edges, leading into the dark woods.
Hills dot the landscape, towering hundreds of feet above the plain. The largest is Bone Hill, Southwest of the town of Restenford, and the reason you've made this journey to the very edge of the Spindrift chain.
Strolling along the road into town, Damian scouts the sides of the road as the party moves
Silvio takes a deep breath as Restenford comes into view, and he smiles.
"Take that in, friends. That is the smell of hospitality! It is good to be back... That is, I believe I have been here before... Or was that Rustford... no matter! Come, let's hurry now that rest is in sight!"
We need to find work
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You're journey this isolated community isn't without cause. You've each heard some rumors about the place that led you to think that this is the sort of place a travelling adventurer can earn some coin.
You've heard rumors about a ruined keep at the top of Bone Hill, where treasure can be found.
In a tavern on the mainland, you were told that the lord of this town is a simpering fool, whose court magician is the true power in the area.
Rumor has it there is a temple deep in the Dweomer Forest. Priests there worship chance itself, and may reward those brave enough to play their luck.
You've heard there are bandits in the area, particularly on Lark Hill, where they hide from the lazy and weak militia that guards the area.
You've heard that Bone Hill gets its name for the undead who walk upon it at night.
A band of evil gnomes live in the Dweomer Forest, with a taste for human flesh!
A trader reported he was attacked by orcs when crossing the bridge over the Restin River.
well, my friends, let's get some refreshments at the tavern and start out in the morning. Maybe we can find out who's in charge around here and what's going on there. Worse case we can go poke around the big Bone Hill and see what pops up, I hear it's always good for creatures....
Silvio shrugs, "Personally I think it would be best to venture into the forest first. Don't you remember that barkeep mentioning that there was a temple hidden out there, dedicated to the worship of chance itself! I for one, would love to roll the dice there, as they say."
I hear this place has a real bandit problem
Pointing to the ground where the creature is burrowing, Damian drops his pack and bow and unsheathes his axes.
prepare for combat comrades!
I cast color spray at the insect, casting time of one. I need a spell saving throw.
"I think it likes you!" Silvio teases his friend as he steps up and hurls his javelin at the creature.
I believe this creature was only a babe
Hooking his axe back on his back, Damian approaches the creature and takes a closer look
hmmm, if it came from this direction, maybe we should follow the trail?
looks like this is the only creature nearby, shall we continue on?
"Well hello there, my fecund fellow. Do you have a moment to chat? Good. Good. I imagine you noticed my friends and I were nearly eaten by that large bug. Are those bugs common to these parts? Is there anything a wiley rabbit like you could advise us so we don't fall prey? For that matter, are there any other large predators we should watch for?"
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The rabbit twitches its ears, ready to flee.
"Ah, a civilized sort." It says in response. "Those things aren't too common, I don't think, but they don't trifle much with my kind. Too small. You're much more to their liking."
[b]"As to the predators, the most dangerous are of your kind, from what I've seen."[b]
With that, the rabbit dashes off to the safety of the forest.
"So the rabbit tells me--don't give me that look! I've told you before. The blessings of The Great Mother include an understanding of some of her most prolific children. Anyway, he said the bug thing isn't too common, while "our kind" are the most dangerous around here. Sadly he ran off before I could clarify if he meant a danger to us, hinting at bandits, or a danger to him which would just mean small game hunters. In either case let's hurry on into town and not linger here."
"Although first, let me take a look at that scratch, Damian."
The healer gently cleans away the dirt and dried blood from the wound.
"Hmm, this is rather deep. Best to let mother handle this one. Mother, who is all around us, let your child feel your burying embrace. " he plays as the ranger's injuries rapidly heal.
thanks for the info and healing, I'm still unfamiliar with this area. Shall we continue? Damian says as they prepare to move on
"Yes, onward!" he says, eager to greet the locals.
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The town of Restenford lay about 11 miles away, but luckily, the rest of the journey sees no further attacks.
The town is nothing special—some thirty-odd buildings clustered around the Restin river, and surrounded by a patchwork of farms of dubious quality. The town doesn't bustle so much as burble—small pockets of activity along the main thoroughfare, and a bit more along the waterways, as fishermen ply their trade.
A stone keep rises above the town itself, on a rocky hill. On the outskirts of town, a guardpost consisting of little more than a wooden shack is manned by two men in boiled leather armor, carrying spears. Walrus can smell the liquor on them from even from fifteen feet away.
"Oi, you don't look like traders" one of the men calls. "State your business."
We are mercenaries looking for work
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The two guards share a glance.
"Is that right?" the first says.
"Well, our hamlet is ably f$%$^$&! defended," the second says, stamping the butt of his spear into the earth, "so you may find you've wasted your damned time, but welcome to Restenford!" He tips a ragged salute and staggers back to the guard post, his companion close behind.
"We also bring the good news! Tell me, my good man, when was the last time you sowed your seed?" he says as he throws his arm around the drunk guard affectionately.
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"You offering?" The man guffaws. "You here, that, Elwood, I says "You offering" to the poncey one!"
Having gotten his laughter under control,he says "The when and where of my ashes gettin' hauled ain't none of your affair, but I'll allow that there's places as can see to that, of course. The spirit of commerce is alive in Restenford."
"Ashes hauled? Oh my." Silvio takes a step back and looks the man up and down, "Yes, I can see why you would choose such a colorful phrase. I imagine ash about sums up the potency of your seed. I had meant somewhere more fruitful, but--" he sighs with disappointment, "that seems beyond your reach at the moment. So, yes, I would offer my services to instruct you in the art of fatherhood. Seek me later at the inn. But, by Mother, do bathe first."
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The man looks quizzically at Silvio.
The man seems to have lost himself in Silvio's words, but he nods unsteadily.
"At Falco's, then?"
Shaking his head, the other guard, who seems marginally more sober, urges his friend on to the guardpost.
Past the guard shack, the dirt path broadens somewhat, meeting a crossroad. Several buildings cluster around the intersection, including a building bearing a wordless sign displaying a drawing of arrows , a general store , a mason's workshop , and a clothing store . Down one of the roads, you see a rickety bridge across the Resten. Further down the main road you see a bowyer's shop and a carpenter's shop .
Lets go to the West Wind and see what we can learn.
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A helpful citizen provides directions to the towns three inns.
The sky darkens to dusk as you tramp down the dusty road toward the Tavern of the West Wind . Passing by a store advertising preserved foods , they find the tavern. A reasonably large, two-story building, and nicely kept.
Inside, half a dozen patrons sit at tables or the bar, while a man behind the bar idly reads from a book. A cat sleeps on the bar beside, while a raven preens from a perch near the door.
As you enter, the barman looks up, gives a nod, and returns to his book.
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kitty
Silvio smiles fondly at his friend's attention drawn to the cat.
He approaches the bar, "Well hello, my good man. What a peaceful public house you have here! A round of ales for my road-weary friends here, if you please. What can you tell us of Restenford?"
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The man nods, and places the book down.
"Welcome to the Tavern of the West Wind, sir. Name's Haki. Restenford's a nice enough place, I suppose. Most folk here make their living fishing or farming, or selling to the miners. Tradeships stop here on occasion, for provisions, or to pick up tin and iron."
He pours four ales and places them before you.
"Not much to look at, I'll admit. If there's something you're looking for, though, we might could have it, and I'd be happy to provide directions. That's five coppers each for the ales."
Accepting the ale with a nod, Damian let's the others do the talking and keeps an eye on the door in his typical paranoid way. Looking uncomfortable inside, as usual
Walrus pets the kitty