As night begins to loom, the sun hanging low in the sky. You all after news of Silas Gribb, your employer and manager of the caravan, was just arrested this morning. You all are good with it questioned and whether by luck or lying you managed to not be implicated. A local Inn owner that you all were to be staying at while in town, by the name Talia Orem, of the Wise Piper Inn heard of your predicament and took pity on you. Offering room and board for a few days to figure something out.
You all sit in the common room, the place relatively empty for the most part a few local regulars sitting and drinking together. A couple other long tables lie empty, A free meal of fresh bread with cheese and honey and a jug of watered down mead sits nearby. The slightly crisp air is kept at bay by a small fire in a fire place.
Feel free to describe your character and what they are doing. Maybe they know each other a little maybe they don’t you can assume you’ve spent a couple days together at least as you travelled from a nearby town to Belhaim.
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Jenise pours herself a glass of mead with a weary sigh. "Ugh, I'm glad that's over. How was I was supposed to know Gribb was smuggling?" The blonde sorceress takes a long drink, then begins filling her plate with cheese and honeyed bread from the platters in the middle of the table. Simple fare, but the bread smells fresh and the innkeeper certainly didn't stint on quantity. "So... anyone have an idea of what we can do next? There has to be some way to make coin in this town." She doesn't look much like the popular notion of a mage, clad in a practical blue and gray outfit of shirt, vest, trousers, and longcoat with a crossbow on her back and a morningstar at her side. Everyone with the caravan has seen Jenise unleash her magic on bandits and wild animals en route to Belhaim, though. There's a reason why the young, slender human woman is working as a caravan guard.
Zuriel, a fair complected dark haired elf, who is known to be somewhat of a forward scout for the caravan, sits quietly in the corner of the room working a large portion of dried bread. Using both hands he frustratingly attempt to break the pastry in half. Alongside a small wooden table, that separates Zuriel from the rest of the room, stands a uniquely curved sword. Its masterly crafted pummel stands out with intricately carved skulls and bones that run the length of its guard and tapers off just before reaching the dark leather case that conceals its ominous looking blade.
With a frustrated grimace, Zuriel curses ever so softly as he finally manages to force the dried bread into two separate pieces. Moments after his success, he grabs a small portion of cheese and places it on one of the halves of bread just before consuming it. He then takes a moment to consider Jenise’s question. “Well it would seem there’s a smuggling opportunity available. Anyone know what Gribb was smuggling?” He asks in a somewhat joking tone. Well, maybe not completely joking. After putting the obvious out there, he glances around the room in an attempt to weigh the group’s willingness to embrace such a notion.
Looking unsatisfied with the quality of the bread, Zuriel reaches down and unfastens the top flap of a back pack that had been laying loosely at his feet. After opening the flap he slides the second half of the bread into the pack and then re-secures it. “I also think they might need a cook here in this establishment as well.” He states in an obviously sarcastic tone.
Faust, a much younger companion than most of the others only about 16, a dark haired and pale human, sits with a black tome some bread, cheese and dried meat. Sporting a black and silver robe, emblazoned with a raven , the symbol of his noble house a cook would be...nice to say the least. He flips a page in his tome, No idea in the slightest what he was smuggling, although it seems we will not be getting paid
"Maybe it' all sum misunderstandin'" August comments in his small-town drawl - mouth still half-full of the mead he's been gulping in. "Mr. Gribb din look like evil man, so maybe 'e just didn't do it?"
Having finished his second jug of mead, the burly Taldan sets the jug on the table and wipes his mouth on his sleeve. Despite his messy eating and drinking, he somehow always manages to stay clean and presentable. No breadcrumbs ever sticking on the corners of the mouth, the long, dark hair always untangled and shiny.
"Oh, don't you mind Mr. Faust and Mr. Zuriel," he says to the innkeeper. "Ah like your food jus' fine. Wouldn't mind another slice of cheese, me." August smiles - and it is a very pleasant smile indeed.
Then, he frowns and rubs his chin and thinks very hard about the situation. "We could go an' ask to talk to Mr. Gribb. If he ain't done what they say he done, we help him out of the jail and then he pays us." August suggests. "Or if 'e was a smuggler, and belongs to jail, maybe the guards could give us our money from Mr. Gribbs belongings."
"Or then we need to look for sum new work."
So many ideas. Maybe another jug of mead would give a few more...
As you sit about the room one of the barmaids comes over to leave more bread growing at the comments about the cook. But as she starts to walk away August’s comments brighten her up again. ”Oh, thank you and sure I can get you some more cheese in a minute. I’ll be back handsome!” and with that she walks back into the kitchen.
I’ll give Tristan some time to hop in as well before anything major happens.
Tristan looks at August with a raised eyebrow and something between an amused smile and a sneer. "'Help' him out of jail?" he asks. "That ought to go swimmingly..."
He didn't really expect that the paladin meant to break a man out of jail, and he wouldn't really have a problem doing something like that, but Silas Gribb didn't strike him as someone worth risking his neck for. He pushed food around his plate while he waited for the others to decide on something. It was obvious to look at him that he had no need of funds, but he also had nowhere to go, and none of these people had managed to make him hate them yet, so...
Zurel chuckles slightly at Tristan's sarcasm. "I say we help Gribb out of his shipment. I have little sympathy for him or anyone else, for that matter, who allows themselves to be caught." After his opinionated statement, Zuriel looks over at August. "Yep, I think Agust is correct. There was definitely no shipment, smuggling, or anything illegal going on." He says in an obvious sarcastic tone.
Jenise nods to Zuriel. She likes the elf, but only trusts him as far as she can see him. "I'm not going to stick my neck out for Gribb. If he's innocent, the town's investigation will find out. If he's not, then he deserves what he gets." The sorceress finishes off a slice of bread. "Either way, it's not my business, except for the fact that I want the pay he owes me. Perhaps the innkeeper will know about some local work we could pick up while we wait."
As you all discuss work and the woes of the fact you now have no source of income, the barmaid returns with the extra cheese and as she sets the small plate down, the rather quiet atmosphere is broken up by a loud rumbling as if thunder seemingly from nowhere has arrived. It goes on for close to 10 seconds ending with a loud crash. Everything in the tavern stops suddenly.
You recognize that this isn’t thunder and sounds more akin to a landslide.
The barmaid stops and immediately turns and looks out one of the windows. “That’s strange, I don’t see any clouds. Where did that thunder come from?” her voice still the welcoming tone, but with a hint of nervousness hidden in it.
Zuriel doesn't flinch at the sound, but does step over to the window and look out. "Na, its not thunder. Probably just someone having gas from the bread and cheese."
After looking out the window for a few moments he continues. "If I had to guess, I would place the sound closer to a landslide than thunder."
"Ah don' think anyone farts that loud." August says, taking Zuriel's comment rather literally.
"Ah was near a landslide in the hillside once. I made a sound jus' like that."
Intrigued by this, the paladin gets up and marches towards the door to take a look outside. Landslide in the middle of a town - that's something.
As you all speak about landslides the barmaid furrows her brow and crosses her arms. [b] “Well I’m not sure how a landslide is gonna happen. There aren’t any mountains nearby…”[b]
As you you meander to the door August you have a better view as you open it. You can see further down the to the southeast a huge plume of dust rising into a clear sky. The stark grey offsetting the pinks and violets that are starting to light up the sky.
well, thats problematic...perhaps we should investigate?
"Darn... There's a lot of dust in the sky." August whistles in awe. Then once more he rubs his chin in thought.
"Yeah, I think Mr. F.aust is right. We should take a look. Are you coming?" He motions the others to follow
Jenise follows her companions out the door, brow furrowed in concern. "Agreed. That doesn't look like a landslide to me, but it sure looks like trouble."
"OR! We could simply shut the door and ignore it." Zuriel states as he walks over and retrieves the curved blade siting beside his table.
"Rat-Balls" He whispers as he sees everyone heading out the door to investigate.
"Its a large booming explosion that could kill everyone! Gee, lets check it out!" Zuriel sighs as he hesitantly follows the rest of the group. "This isn't going to end well." He finalizes as he closes the door behind himself.
"We could," Tristan says to Zuriel, "but then we might miss out on some of the more interesting ways to die, and who wouldn't want to keep their options open?" He makes a rather grandiose shrugging gesture as he asks, then shakes his head as he follows the others to their increasingly imminent demise.
"If it's a threat, I'd rather know what and where it is." Jenise shades her eyes with a hand, trying to make out the source of the dust cloud. "That way I know whether to attack or run away."
"Threats a giant explosion and is over there." Zuriel points at the giant plum of dust raising up into the sky. "And its always run away...Not attack." Aside from all his pessimistic ranting, Zuriel hasn't slowed his pace and is keeping up with the group quite well.
where there's threats, there's work. which means money we all need. Faust comments, looking up and shutting his tome. His tone remains calm and quiet yet firm. walking through things as logically as possible
"Really, Zuriel, where's your sense of adventure?" And why did he sign up as a caravan guard if he doesn't like to fight? "Faust knows what's what. If we can fight off a threat, maybe the town will reward us. And even if they don't, there's usually loot to be had."
"Maybe, Usually. I feel so much better now."
As you all walk out leaving behind the barmaid staring and the regulars as they start to try to make sense you see people doing a very similar thing to you. Some just go about their business, other turn and head the opposite direction while, others seemingly called by curiosity head towards it. As the groups start to get denser and more people are seen you hear a murmur amongst the crowd.
You can overhear a group of men in what look to be lumberjack’s clothing behind you. They say the Witch Tower has fallen. As they say this a woman off to the side chimes in whispering that she heard kobolds were found amongst the rubble.
Eventually as you start to come towards the source of the dust you see an enormous heap of cracked stone and splintered wood from the tower lies in a low mound here, tumbled partially down the hill to the southeast. The mound of rubble forms a natural ramp that leads up to the now-exposed second floor of the tower above. The tower continues upwards or would if not for the collapse. You see two people in front of the crowd in what looks to be deputies from your morning brush with the law. One stands gazing lazily at the pile as he chews on a piece of long grass, while the other paces about back and forth scratching her head.
Zuriel's complaining comes abruptly to a halt when he first catches sight of the tower. Moving forward, he simply keeps quiet and observes his surroundings.
"Oh, I was wrong. It was a falling tower, not a landslide." August remarks, moving closer to the scene. He tries to think if he noticed a tower here earlier, but can't think of it. Maybe he just just didn't pay attention to any towers in town.
He approaches one of the deputies - Alberto was his name? Albin? Albeen? "Hello again, Mister Deputy," he says, voice warm was talking to a close friend. "What happened here? What was this tower?"
You work your way to the front August and you don’t seem to know either for some reason both these two were nowhere seen this morning. The tower is behind a large manor and hugs a hill. Possibly due to it’s tucked back nature you didn’t see it, the entire thing old and abandoned off to the side of the town. One deputy the man, looks over still chewing the long grass.
”Howdy, call me Deputy Hodd.” sighs ”Wheeel seems the tower dun fell down. Not really sure why, we pulled two kobolds out da rubble though. Not sure why they in this old thang, this the Witch Tower. A old relic from the last baron.”
Witch Tower? Ooh, sounds interesting! And kobolds too. Curiouser and curiouser. "Why do you call it the Witch Tower? Was the old baron a mage of some sort?"
"I'm thinking he means watch tower." Zuriel states as he begins visually inspecting the area around the tower. "My money says the kobolds either tunneled in from the hill side, or simply moved in for shelter."
"Can't say I can see anything from here though."
He shakes his head only hearing the young women who pushed to the front, as Zuriel still can’t seem to get a good look from his spot in the crowd.
”Well he wasn’t no mage, but he was said to be possessed by some evil. Some say a witch. And when they razed the castle this here tower is all that stood, supposedly cause she lived there. So witch tower…” he sees Zuriel poking around and the woman says. ”Be careful sonny, we can figure it out. Don’t want ya getting hurt.”
As he says this he points with his head to the now defunct not tower as he finishes. Within a couple moments of speaking and the still lost look on both their faces one of the crowd shouts out.
“See if Old Man Hunclay can figure it out!” quickly followed by a ” I’m not knocking on his door. He’ll get mad and cast some spell.”
As you get closer and look at the tower you see that the front door remains, though ancient and possibly rusted in place. You see only parts of the first and second floor remain. The ground floor seemingly still standing while rubble lies in a heap leading up to floor above you, that seems to still be there despite the fall.
"Great, he actually meant witch tower. This just gets better and better." Zuriel turns and begins walking back. "You heard the man. They can figure it out and they don't wan't us getting HURT. So.... we are done here right? Just because the whole bottom floor is still intact, doesn't mean we have to be the ones to investigate it." Zuriel pauses a moment and then looks back over his shoulder to see if anyone else is coming. "Besides, you heard it yourself. Hunclay will cast fireballs at us if we get involved!"
i am interested in investigating, it could prove useful to my studies... Faust looks in though and it becomes clear he intended to say that in his head
"Ah don't think no harm will come just knocking on someone's door," says August cheerily. "We'll talk to this Mr. Hunclay. Who is he and where can we find him?"
"Interesting," Tristan says. "No, wait—the other thing... tedious." He turns to follow Zuriel. "They don't want our help. Let them worry about it until they realize they're out of their depth and offer reward. Isn't that how these things go?"
August you say this and someone points to the large manor not to far away. “He’s a local wizard, but of an odd duck. Keeps to himself.” The guard next to you says, as you go to walk over you turn a corner and see a smoking dead Kobold on the front steps of the door.
As the two of you start walking you hear the sounds of hooves and see two riders both that look to be wearing finer clothes. An older but still able woman with a young man behind her. They seem to be riding at a gallop, but there is no malice behind their movements.
Zuriel looks over at Tristan. Emmm...I don't know if we should out right leave YET. Perhaps we should simply keep our distance and watch the recklessness unfold. At the vey least, it might be entertaining. Then there is an off chance that something interesting or valuable comes out of that scrap pile."
Zuriel takes a moment to consider what's going on. "If we at least hang on the side-lines and a magic item belonging to that alleged witch shows up, then we have a legitimate claim to it. After all, we are sorta participating, Right?"
Jenise rolls her eyes. "Oh, come on. Aren't you curious at all? It's a mystery!" Really, these people. "I doubt the village would let him live here if he were actually prone to fireballing visitors. Sounds more like the kind of thing people say about any arcane spellcaster."
"Yep, sounds about right." Zuriel folds his arms across his chest and assumes an abstinent posture. "Loose in the noddle spellcaster blowing people up with fireballs sounds like a legitimate thing to me. I'm sure anyone who had the notion of relocating the imbalanced wizard isn't around anymore."
"Curious?" Tristan repeats. "Not particularly... but it would indeed be a shame if one of you were to come upon something valuable and I weren't there to..." he pauses, searching for the correct word, "assist in its recovery."
mages who go around fire balling everyone, don't tend to live long. i can assure you of that Faust chuckles quietly, holding his black book open. writing in it briefly before shutting it.
August follows the guard to the Hunclay's manor, and the dead kobold does take him by surprise. He kneels down, and takes a closer look. Yes, burned to death.
He gets up, sidesteps the dead kobold and approaches the door. August reaches his hand towards the door, knuckles ready to knock. Then he looks back down on the kobold, considers it's cause of death, and withdraws is hand.
Maybe it's better not to push one's luck. Instead of knocking, he hollers with his loudest voice "YOO-HOO, MR. WIZARD!!! ARE YOU HOME?! WE WANT TO TALK ABOUT THE TOWER!"
While waiting for an answer, the paladin follows the galloping riders with his eyes. Seems like it's a busy day in the town.
Yeah it’s on the front step right in front of the door. The door is on the other side facing away and would basically be blocked by the building. That’s why no one has seen the crispy critter yet.
Deputy Hodd watches with you August eyes wide, and as you decide not to knock he nods. “Might be a better idea, don’t wanna end up like dis one.” he kicks the kobold a little for good measure. You yell and no response is heard, Deputy Hodd scratches his head. “Huh that’s odd, wonder where he is?”
The woman astride the horse brings her horse to a slow trot then stop near the group. You hear a murmur, “the baroness, she’s here, oh she looks unhappy.” She clears her throat speaking in a strong but dignified manner. “Can someone tell me what in Pharasma’s name is going on? Why did this tower fall?”
Some kind of earthquake Faust answers directly and quickly