Age of Ashes (Team Alseta)

Game Master Delta Arena

Zeldones drinks deeply, starting with water and then moving back to The Wizard's Grace if it looks like the other volunteer heroes are going. Before that, though, he approaches Ellaeaanda and offers her a cup of water, his expression serious. "Nice shooting with that first mephit. I don't think my spell would have dispersed it if you hadn't weakened it first." He rubs the back of his neck, dislodging caked-on ash. "Resa, too. And the others. After tonight, I feel better about handling whatever the Council decides to throw us at."

“Thank you,” Ellaeaanda gratefully accepts the cup of water from Zeldones, thirstily emptying it without ceremony. “You are a cool breeze on a summer day, like your magic against the mephits. Timely and apt were your spells. Have you studied long?”

When Ardoinel describes his reason for being here, she nods and unsteadily rises to her feet, using the young magus for support. Though still tired and suffering from smoke inhalation, there is a dedicated resolve in her movements. “Fate has bound us all. A greater blaze beckons. Come.” Now that the fires have been extinguished, she leads the others into the western corridor and points out a set of bare sooty footprints. “The tale begins here. The mephits are but a prologue.”

Her amethyst eyes glaze over as she seems to enter a trance.

Use Pursue a Lead to begin an investigation into the sooty footprint.
Perception: 1d20 + 8 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 8 + 1 = 28
I’m hoping to find any other tracks and identify the type of creature that left the footprint. Should I roll a knowledge check? Maybe Society if it’s a humanoid? Actually, go ahead and roll for me if one is needed.

Resa was sweating and sticky from the smoke, but used the offered water to quench her thirst, glad she was able to finally save someone, or rather something that was not herself. She would take a moment to put some water around her neck and face, but the bright red of her cheeks from Zeldones praise was clear. She even managed a weak embarrassed " Thank you, it was nothing really, just the right thing."

She followed the group, but she would look at the places where the mephits fell and the scorch marks from the the flames, and scratch at her horns, hidden by her bandana. It always bothered her horns when fire was used to harm people, but this was different. The itching got worse when Ellaeaanda points out footprints, meaning this was not an act of random chance but a set fire. She could practically feel herself being blamed, the old memories of crimes she never did still blamed on her for her simple birth.

"Maybe it is just someone who ran through the fire? Maybe they need help?" Even her words felt strange and hollow, clearly knowing but not wishing to face the truth.

"Um."

Behind the group of adventurers stands Netkin, an embarrassed smile on his face, ostensibly holding a healer's toolkit. "Anyone wounded here? I've got a few things for burns..." He suddenly cranes his neck and stands on his toes. His gaze has fallen to the footprint in the soot. "What's that? Did someone just get in?"

After taking several minutes to rest and get some water, Cerrus rejoins the group that he met at The Wizard's Grace earlier today. "That was a good bit of teamwork, wasn't it? Zeldones might just be right; maybe we are well-suited to a task from the Call."

Upon hearing Ardoinel describe his dreams, Cerrus pulls out his tome and writes in the margins of the first page he opens, thinking to himself "I must remember to ask about this later.".

Cerrus follows the group to the footprint that Ellaeaanda noticed. "Hmm, this could just be from someone running away from the fire. But, it could be from someone starting the fire. Curious, indeed." Cerrus then rifles through his tome and studies the footprint, hoping that his tome has a clue and that the town's efforts to save the building haven't washed away important details of the footprint.

Cerrus hears Netkin behind. "Oh yes, I could use some bandages in a few places. But, after I look at these clues first, please."

Cerrus would use Esoteric Lore to Recall Knowledge on the footprint. GM: I'm assuming you'll roll this. Bonus is +8 with tome.

"I think you're right, Cerrus," Ardoinel says with a nod. "Scamps don't just appear on Golarion by themselves. Someone had to summon them."

At Netkin's question he shrugs a bit.

"I don't know if I'd *COUGH!* call smoke inhalation a 'wound,' but if you have something to soothe that I'll happily take it."

The magus nods. "The water helped, but I'm not feeling well at all."

Ellaeaanda The footprints are made of remnants of soil and mud, in the shape of bare feet. They are partially covered by the layer of soot and ashes left over from the fire, making it clear that they are from before the fire started.

There is a single set of footprints comming and going to a place by the doors of the hall. There, where the trail stops before going back, are another two pairs, made of scorch marks on the floor, standing in front of it.

You identify the two pairs as those matching the feet from the Mephits. The other pair, the one forming the trail, belongs to a single Halfling individual, with a footprint larger than Netkin's, discarding him as a suspect.

This halfling individual is the subject of your lead.

Cerrus It is obvious from your studies that this individual must have summon the Mephits and convinced them to do their bidding. To do that they must have been highly adept with magic or have used a parchement or tome that would have given them access to that knowledge.

***

As Netkin tends to everyone's wounds, Greta appears at the end of the hallway. She calls out for the other councilmembers upon seeing you, and approaches.

"There you are. I hope everyone is alright. I wanted to thank you all for dealing with those imp creatures." She doesn't recognize them as fire mephits.

The other four councilors approach, along with the goblin woman who was presenting her case.

"This was certainly no accident, but noone seems to know who was responsible for it," continues Greta, "we need to get to the bottom of this. But for that, we need heroes. I know you have saved us once already, but would you answer the call on behalf of Breachill?"

Zeldones mops sweat from his forehead, the still-hot walls undoing most of the good done by the water. "Netkin, do you know any other halflings in Breachill? Or any gnomes who prefer to go barefoot?"

Coming out of her trance, Ellaeaanda responds to Netkin in a dreamy, faraway voice. “If you have treated all others, your balm would be welcome here.”

She tilts her head to one side, looking past both Resa and Netkin, though her next words answer both of their queries, as well as the comment by Cerrus, regarding the footprint. “This is the wind of fate itself, not a mere leaf caught in its passing. What storm it heralds, only an oracle can say.” Her gaze pierces Ardoinel for a moment before continuing in the same misty voice. This time a keen elven intellect shines through her poetic recitation of the evidence.

“Ashes above, not below, so these prints predate the fire. To and fro they lead, like a wave depositing driftwood—two fiery burning logs, that magically appear.” The elf gestures vaguely towards the two pairs of scorched footprints that mark the mephits’ entrance. “Feet bare like yours,” it isn’t entirely clear who she’s referring to, but it appears to be Netkin, “but larger. The wind we seek is a halfling.”

When the councilors and goblin lady arrive, Ellaeaanda answers obliquely. “My quest and your need are two sides of one coin. You mentioned the citadel—” her gaze pierces through Warbal “—what did you see? This arson was meant to thwart your plea and stifle the Call.”

"Oh, those are not mine," Netkin exclaims, a little too quickly. "I was inside the entire time." He suddenly seems very scared, and even paler than usual. He almost visibly shrinks. "You guys know it can't be me, right?" he lets out a small, nervous laughter.

"Netkin, do you know any other halflings in Breachill? Or any gnomes who prefer to go barefoot?"

Netkin seems taken aback by the question, but quickly his expression shifts from surprise to obvious relief.

"Oh, eh, not really... Well, there's my grandma, of course, but she can hardly walk without her contraption now, and..." Another nervous laughter. "Sorry. It's just, she's very, very old, I really can't think of her starting a fire in the town hall... Let me think while I take care of those burns."

Lore (Breachhill): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13 Checking if he knows other halflings or gnomes or small-Sized humanoids that could fit the description in town.

The halfling is delicately dressing the wounds of the party members when they're approached by Greta. I'll just take 10, that's 16

"Um," Netkin hesitates. Clearly this was what he was there for, but was there any chance they might suspect him? Of all the years he had to answer the call, he had to pick the one where a pyromaniac halfling would start an arson...

If he had known, he would at least have left his reagents for bombs and alchemist's fire at home. Now there was SUSPICIOUS written all over his face. In bold letters. Underlined. Twice.

"Yes?" he answers anxiously. At least, if they really believed him innocent by some miracle, he could try to clear his name and catch the real culprit...

Cerrus relays his findings to the group. "It certainly seems to me that the ... owner of these footprints was involved in the fire. I believe they summoned the fire creatures through some magical means. I think finding this person is our first priority."

As Greta and the rest of the council approach, Cerrus grimaces and remembers nearly yelling at Quentino. Cerrus nods at Greta. "I can't speak for everyone, but I will answer the Call if given. I agree with Ellaeaanda. The fire was likely intended to stop today's proceedings."

Resa keeps quiet on her own ideas on what is happening and by who, because she was the outsider, and was not being blamed. That spoke volumes of these people being more welcome than others she encountered, but still her trust was not completely there yet. They could turn on her yet.

She does offer an opinion on who she thinks the footprints are belonging to though, because Netkin does seem worried about it. " I believe it is someone upset with the council. Unless you seem to be hiding things, you are not the guilty party according to our friends."

As for the answer of going into the call, she had nothing else. Reas had traveled far to find a place that would accept her, but still, was she ready? By herself no, but perhaps with these people she could make it. " I perhaps could? I.. I am not the richest person, so if there is much cost I can not say I can help. But I think it would be nice to... nice to work together to solve this fire. There is no reason some one should die in a fire we can prevent."

As Netkin tends to everyone's wounds, Greta appears at the end of the hallway. She calls out for the other councilmembers upon seeing you, and approaches.

"There you are. I hope everyone is alright. I wanted to thank you all for dealing with those imp creatures." She doesn't recognize them as fire mephits.

The other four councilors approach, along with the goblin woman who was presenting her case.

"This was certainly no accident, but noone seems to know who was responsible for it," continues Greta, "we need to get to the bottom of this. But for that, we need heroes. I know you have saved us once already, but would you answer the call on behalf of Breachill?"

"No devils here," Ardoinel replies. "These were elementals, scamps. They're friendlier than imps, but they also enjoy mischief and their idea of fun isn't limited by mortal notions of safety or good taste."

And they're cute as heck! :P

He listens as Greta makes the Call official, then draws his clan dagger and holds it out in front of him, colors shifting across the rough opal set in the pommel.

"I swear, on my honor as a son of the Oreflame clan, with Forge-Father and Mage-Mother both as my witnesses, that I will answer this Call for Heroes and stand with Breachill against any and all who threaten her. So let it be."

He sheathes the dagger and bows to the Town Council.

"Ardoinel Oreflame, at your service."

She tilts her head to one side, looking past both Resa and Netkin, though her next words answer both of their queries, as well as the comment by Cerrus, regarding the footprint. “This is the wind of fate itself, not a mere leaf caught in its passing. What storm it heralds, only an oracle can say.” Her gaze pierces Ardoinel for a moment before continuing in the same misty voice. This time a keen elven intellect shines through her poetic recitation of the evidence.

Ardoinel frowns.

"At this point, your guess is as good as mine," he replies grimly. "Let's exhaust our mundane options for investigation before trying to invoke the supernatural."

Missed the GM post because it came out a few minutes before mine.

Zeldones smiles at Greta's request. "Speaking only for myself, of course I will." Hopefully this will be quick and easy, so I can go find my mom and the grandparents. Wonder if they'll recognize me? It's been a while. The young magus is briefly lost in a daydream, but the burn in his throat and the taste of ashes in his mouth soon brings him back to reality.

“Oh no, do you really think this is related? Are my Bumblebrashers at risk of being burnt alive? In that case you must head there, you must save my Bumblebrashers.”

Greta nods, “I agree with Warbal Bumblebrasher. If this is related, the Bumblebrashers might be in immediate danger, if it is not already too late. Thank you, Ardoinel Oreflame, and thank you to all. We are grateful to you for taking on the call. As for the formalities, the council will pay ten gold pieces to each of you for contacting the Bumblebrashers, and ten more for bringing the culprit to justice, preferably alive for interrogation. Feel free to take a couple of hours to gather whatever you might need before heading towards the citadel. I will have someone bring you three minor healing potions to the town’s gates.”

***

I'll just take 10, that's 16

Netkin, do you have the Assurance feat with medicine in order to take 10? And are you trained in medice? I don’t see either on your character profile, but I could be missing something. If I am missing something.

Missed the GM post because it came out a few minutes before mine.

Yes, I noticed your post after I first posted it, I was actually still editing the post so it worked out for the best.

“Danger abounds already before your call,” Ellaeaanda responds to Greta, her words reinforced by the halfling tending to their wounds. “Netkin is strong, but he should not be so burdened with our lives. I share his knowledge, but not his tools. Can you provide also a healer’s kit, so that he does not fight death alone?”
If Diplomacy is needed, please roll it for me (+0 modifier).

As a stranger to town, the elf already carries everything she needs, so rather than waiting for a couple hours, she starts following the halfling’s tracks—that is, the arsonist halfling, not Netkin. Or his grandmother. Though, to be fair, that point remains to be seen.
Survival: 1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 6 + 1 = 18

Zeldones murmurs to the elf, "I have the gold to get one, if they won't."

“Oh no, do you really think this is related? Are my Bumblebrashers at risk of being burnt alive? In that case you must head there, you must save my Bumblebrashers.”

Greta nods, “I agree with Warbal Bumblebrasher. If this is related, the Bumblebrashers might be in immediate danger, if it is not already too late. Thank you, Ardoinel Oreflame, and thank you to all. We are grateful to you for taking on the call. As for the formalities, the council will pay ten gold pieces to each of you for contacting the Bumblebrashers, and ten more for bringing the culprit to justice, preferably alive for interrogation. Feel free to take a couple of hours to gather whatever you might need before heading towards the citadel. I will have someone bring you three minor healing potions to the town’s gates.”

"Tell us more about the Bumblebrashers," Ardoinel asks. "Given you share the name of the tribe and the way you speak of them as 'yours' I'd assume you're part of their leadership or related to them, and yet you said before the chaos broke out that you haven't heard from them in about a month? I don't doubt your honesty, of course. It's just that I'm new to Breachill, and would like to know more about what we're helping with and about my potential new neighbors."

Councilor Trini is glad to provide Ellaeaanda with a healer's toolkit. She makes sure to hand it over before the current conversation ends. Feel free to just add it to your inventory.

Ellaeaanda You notice that the tracks seem to leave the hall by Monument Circle and across the bridge, heading towards the north of the city. That is the general direction one would take to go to Hellknight Hill.

***

"Of course, let me properly introduce myself." She shakes her head and regains her composture. I am Warbal, and, although I am not part of the Bumblebrashers' leadership, I do act as their ambassador. It is a great honor for me to serve my fellow citizens of Breachill as the town’s official representative to the Bumblebrashers. I communicate with the Bumblebrashers, convey the town’s concerns and interests to them, and advocate on the tribe’s behalf. It is a duty I take very seriously—they are my people, after all.'

'As for who we are, we are a tribe of goblins who have lived peacefully in Citadel Altaerein, the former Hellking keep on the hill, for years. Typically I meet with Helba, the tribe’s chieftain, on the road outside the keep every two weeks. We discuss news, and I convey the town’s interests and hear any concerns that the tribe might wish me to bring before the council. It is a relationship of the utmost importance to our tribe, and Helba is normally punctual. But she has missed our previous two meetings, and I have seen plumes of smoke coming from the top of the citadel. The smoke is a chalky red in color—the tribe’s traditional color of distress. So I fear that the Bumblebrashers are in danger, or that something dire might have already befallen them. It has sickened me with worry."

" Do you often met once a week or once a day? Why has noone else went to check on them yet?" Resa queries out, not really sure what all is needed to help a goblin tribe. Growing up, she had worked alongside others of the goblinkind, stuck in situations similar to hers and found them to always be very resourceful and smart. She was not sure what exactly they would encounter that goblins could not solve that they could, but she felt after all this was part of the call, and so she would give it her best shot.

"I do not have many skills everyone, I can hide pretty well. Does anyone think that can be useful here?" She offers to the group, not really sure what they needed from her, but trying her best to help.

Crafting: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17 Retconning the 'taking ten' to dress wounds... Do I need to make one check for everyone, or several?

Netkin glances at Ellaeaanda. Plumes of smoke coming out of the castle.. Could it be what she had seen in her vision?

"Why hasn't anyone reacted before?" he asks, rather bluntly, and his cheeks flush a little. "I mean, if it seemed so obvious that there was a... problem?"

"I do not have many skills everyone, I can hide pretty well. Does anyone think that can be useful here?"

"When facing danger? Always!" the halfling chimes in with fake cheer.

"What Netkin said, any band of adventurers needs a good scout," Ardoinel adds.

"Hammer and Tongs, this girl has *no* self-confidence!" he thinks ti himself.

After quickly confirming that the tracks do indeed head in the direction of the castle, Ellaeaanda marks their location across the bridge and returns to the group. With Trini’s gift of a healing kit, the elf tends to her injuries and those of her companions while the discussion continues.

Rolls for Medicine - Treat Wounds
Ellaeaanda: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25hp healed: 2d8 ⇒ (8, 2) = 10
Netkin: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19hp healed: 2d8 ⇒ (3, 3) = 6
Ardoinel: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18hp healed: 2d8 ⇒ (3, 3) = 6
Resa: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10
Zeldones: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20hp healed: 2d8 ⇒ (4, 2) = 6
Cerrus: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22hp healed: 2d8 ⇒ (7, 3) = 10
Assuming the DC is 15, that's success for everyone but Resa, so Netkin's roll can be for her.

“How far does the sun journey ere we reach this citadel? The wind we seek does not rest, so we should leave soon.”

Netkin--it's one check per person, and unless you have the Battle Medicine skill feat, it's ten minutes per check. Unless you have the Ward Medic skill feat, you can only treat one person at a time. Each success heals 2d8 HP, a critical success heals 4d8 HP, and a critical failure inflicts 1d8 HP.

"How often has your chief missed meetings before this?" Zeldones glances around at the councilors. Hmmm...two missed meetings puts the first one after the previous Call for Heroes...I'll bet I know why they waited, distress signal or no.

After quickly confirming that the tracks do indeed head in the direction of the castle, Ellaeaanda marks their location across the bridge and returns to the group. With Trini’s gift of a healing kit, the elf tends to her injuries and those of her companions while the discussion continues.

“How far does the sun journey ere we reach this citadel? The wind we seek does not rest, so we should leave soon.”

Ardoinel nods.

"Aye, there'll be time to ask about details once we confirm the fate of the Bumblebrashers. The sooner we get there, the less likely that fate turns out to be dark."

Resa, you take Healing: 2d8 ⇒ (1, 5) = 6 from Netkin's Treat Wounds check.

"She has missed a meeting or two in the past, but never two in a row. And the signals only began after the second missed meeting. I have been waiting for the call since, as I don't know who else could help my Bumblebrashers."

"As for how long it should take, The citadel is about six hours walk from the city. If you leave now, you might make it by nightfall. The road there is safe, but we don't know what you might find in the citadel itself," adds Greta.

Netkin looks increasingly fidgety. "Well, obviously we don't know. I don't think anyone's been there in a while! I certainly haven't..."

Resa suddenly feels a sharp pain where the mephit hurt her. "Oops - sorry! Sorry... Bit nervous there."

Resa hisses slightly at the pain as Netkin patches her up, but she has no ill words for him, just a kind "Thank you" as she goes back to listening to the group plan. The simple fact remains that she was not exactly sure what all was needed, but she wanted to help as best she could. The healing seemed to close the wound for the creatures bite, but the smoke still made her cough every so often.

She also notable said nothing about needing time or equipment to go deal with this. She came only with what she had on, nothing more and nothing less, well, expect her parentage, but that was amother say to this before them.

While the conversation carried on, Cerrus paged through his tome looking for a map of Citadel Altaerein or the surrounding area.

RK w/ Diverse Lore: 1d20 + 7 - 2 ⇒ (5) + 7 - 2 = 10

Cerrus speaks to the group. "It sounds like we are all agreed to investigate what's happened to the Bramblebrashers. Since it has been many days since Warbal has been in contact with the goblin tribe, I suggest we leave as soon as possible, camp near the citadel, and start our investigation in the morning. Does anyone need to purchase supplies?"

Zeldones hefts his pack. "I have all I need here. One more night on the road won't kill me. I hope."

Ellaeaanda nods. “Time is a river. I shall find sustenance along the way.” With that, the elf takes the lead and resumes following the unknown halfling’s trail, pausing only to refill her waterskin at Monument Circle, and to purchase some rations at a store along their way.

Purchased a week’s worth of rations for 4 sp. Added to my profile.
She’ll keep following the trail for as long as she can. If she loses it, she’ll just continue along the path to Hellknight Hill. Presumably someone will give the party 3 minor healing potions as they pass through the gate. I suggest spreading them out amongst those who don’t have a healer’s kit.

Resa hurries to follow behind Ellaeaanda, not wishing to be left out, and curious about the purchases the woman makes. Given she seemed more knowledgeable about these distances, Resa will make the same purchases, reducing her money down to 6 sp. But there was the chance of more gold to be found along the way, so she felt better for it.

" If it is a river, is it fast or slow? We need to hurry or else others will beat us there, and we will not get paid."

"Resa, I don't think there's any other volunteers," Ardoinel comments as he follows the two. "Cerrus or Netkin may know more, but my impression was the Call is a service to the community, not a competition."

"Safe travels, and good luck, heroes," says Greta.

"And thank you for risking your lives for my Bumblebrashers, " adds Warbal.

***

Would anyone else like to buy anything before leaving Breachill?

The guard at the entrance of the city has, in fact, received a note from the the council to hand over to you 3 Minor Healing Potions. He hands them over to the party as you're passing the North gate.

Netkin is at loss for what exactly to bring on an adventuring trip, but he does try to look around town to see if he can find a map of Breachhill's surroundings. Not sure how much that would cost? If he doesn't find one, he buys a compass.

He doesn't forget to go see his grandma one last time before leaving.

While the conversation carried on, Cerrus paged through his tome looking for a map of Citadel Altaerein or the surrounding area.

[dice=RK w/ Diverse Lore]1d20+7-2

@GM: Did Cerrus learn anything with that roll?

Also, I'm pretty sure with all the healing that's been done, everyone should be at full health.

Ellaeaanda responds to Resa’s idle query in her typical distracted manner. “A river is never fast nor slow; it arrives precisely when it must.” She continues past the city guard as if he wasn’t there, leaving it for others to accept the healing potions.

Ellaeaanda responds to Resa’s idle query in her typical distracted manner. “A river is never fast nor slow; it arrives precisely when it must.” She continues past the city guard as if he wasn’t there, leaving it for others to accept the healing potions.

"So they're like wizards, then?" Ardoinel comments before giving an embarrassed chuckle. "Sorry, that's an old joke."

He accepts the potions Ellaeaanda doesn't.

"Who wants one?" he asks, letting anyone in the party who does catch up with him to take it.

Cerrus pipes up. "I'd take a potion as I don't have the ability to heal myself."

Ardoinel lets Cerrus catch up and hands one of the potions off to him.

Zeldones holds up a hand. "I'll take the last one, if no one minds." In answer to Resa and Ardoinel, he shakes his head. "We don't have to worry about competition at this point, just survival. And making sure the Bumblebrasher goblins are safe, of course."

Netkin Gradma wishes you good luck and kisses your forhead before you leave. She seems confident that you can make it through the trials ahead, but she also seems nervous. Of what? you cannot tell.

Cerrus My bad, I had missed that you have dubious knowledge. You find a map that shows the keep. It consists of a central structure protected with tall battlements flanked by two wings. According to the information in your tome there is also an underground complex underneath the citadel. There is a single entrance to the citadel, at the front of the central structure and it is riddled with traps.

***

I'll wait for Resa before proceeding in case they want to buy anything before leaving town.

She just bought rations so nothing else would be needed/affordable to her yet.

Resa nods as the others tell her about the rivers moving how they should, and that this was more about community service than anyone rushing to get beat for money. She seems to relax a bit hearing that, a small weight lifted as she could think more about what she needed to do to help the group. She had good scouting skills, but if the way there was not dangerous, she would hang around everyone until closer.

" So have many of you done this before? The biggest adventure I had was traveling here. I know we all saw each other before the meeting, but what exactly brought everyone here? I came for a better life."

She seems interested in those she had not spoken to previously, but was making some attempts as conversation as they walked along the trails.

Before leaving town, Cerrus shows the map of the citadel to the group. Pointing to the map, he says "See here, there is a single entrance which is full of traps so we must be careful when we get there. Two wings are on each side of the central area. And there is a series of rooms underground." He hands his tome over to let the others examine the map. "Keep in mind that that's probably an old map so we are very likely to have old information. Plus, who knows what the Bumblebrashers have changed since taking residence."

On the journey, Cerrus takes a bit of time to talk to each party member. First answering Resa's question. "I have had similar tasks in my journeys away from Breachill, but this is the time first I have answered the Call for Heroes."

Cerrus also finds a moment to speak to Ardoinel in relative privacy. "I don't mean to be rude, but I have noticed you seem prone to coughing fits. Are those common, or mainly brought on by smoke? I ask only to see if I can help your symptoms."

Cerrus pulls Netkin aside at one point. "Don't let the connection between your ancestry and the perpetrator's discourage you. From my perspective, you have already proven your worth during the fire at town hall and are a valuable member of this new group."

Cerrus also speaks to Ellaeaanda privately. "You seem to have a keen eye for small details and searching for clues. I feel that that ability will come in handy as we attempt to piece together what happened at the citadel."

Finally, Cerrus chats with Zeldones. "Yes, you are correct. One of our main priorities is the safety of the Goblin tribe. And hopefully, we find clues about why someone set flame to the town hall. We may find a connection between these two events."

"Sorry, that's an old joke."

Hey, we're not old! :P

Netkin trudges along quietly, seemingly lost in thought. His cotton hat now matches with long, white gloves that fit underneath his sleeves, which, he explains, are here to prevent burns and rashes "because his skin is quite sensitive to the sun". Given how pale - and freckled - he is, his concern is easy to understand.

Between the cotton hat nearly pulled over his eyes and the comically huge backpack he's carrying, he would really make for quite a funny sight if he wasn't so somberly silent, as compared to the much chipper personality he displayed that morning.

He couldn't stop thinking about his last exchange with his grandma. How frail she had seen, even when resting on her walker, and how worried, despite his assurances that he had already talked to Mrs Harper next door who had promised she would pop in every day (easier now that the kids were all grown up and gone, of course), and that she would spread the word at the knitting club to Mrs Jerth and Havenstock, who were pushing sixty but were still spry on their feet, and sweet as they come.

Grandma Bigpot had only shaken her head. "It's you who need reassurance, my boy. I can tell," she had said gently, patting his cheek with one knotty hand. Her fingers were hard; she couldn't extend them so well anymore, and in spite of her soft gesture, they felt like talons. She had quickly let her hand drop to her side, and Netkin had wondered if she felt embarrassed by this unusually spontaneous display of affection - or by the fact that she could no longer cup his cheek and console him the way she had done when he was little. She had lowered her gaze, and shaken her head a second time. "I'll be just fine. You go, and come back when you're ready. Just help me to the couch."

He hadn't really known what to expect - tears? sorrow? joy? a hug? But after he had helped Grandma sit down and brought her blanket to carefully place on her lap and over her legs (she had circulation problems now, and got cold easily), he had felt surprisingly... Empty. Stunned, perhaps, that they should part so simply, when he had imagined telling her I'm scared, and her replying I love you.

The last thing she had told him, when he was already at the door, was "Remember to eat your meat on the road."

It would have to do.

Resa's question brings Netkin out of his daydreaming a little. "I don't think I've ever done this before," he shakes his head. "Well, I've never done this before. I just had to find a way to make ends meet, you know? Not a lot of jobs for a little guy tinkering with vials... Especially when no one in town trusted me with them."

" "Don't let the connection between your ancestry and the perpetrator's discourage you. From my perspective, you have already proven your worth during the fire at town hall and are a valuable member of this new group."

"Oh," maybe it's only the exertion, but Netkin suddenly seems a little bit more rosy-cheeked. "Why, thank you!... I'll make sure to remember that. And, er, you too," he adds hurriedly - and immediately winces.

Added a compass to the inventory

At Cerrus’s comment, Ellaeaanda simply shrugs while staring off into the distance. “I simply see what the blind cannot. Like the ash in his lungs.” She glances obliquely in Ardoinel’s direction. Keen eyes indeed—the puffs of ash have not gone unnoticed.

" So have many of you done this before? The biggest adventure I had was traveling here. I know we all saw each other before the meeting, but what exactly brought everyone here? I came for a better life."

Her response to Resa doesn’t actually answer the half-elf’s question, since the full elf has already made it clear that a vision of the citadel drew her here, but addresses another point entirely. “Your life will not be better. But it will be different.”

As you talk, time seems to go by faster. You seem to be the only ones on the trail, and it feels like only four hours pass before the first glances at the citadel, rather than the six hours Greta mentioned. The citadel is an imposing structure that looms above the hilltop. It is still intimidating despite the crumbling stone and the verdant nature that is slowly reclaiming the site. Plums of red smoke are clearly visible rising from the roof of the keep's central tower.

It is about five in the afternoon when you reach the site, and you can see that the gate-like doors in the center of the keep hang ajar.

How would you like to proceed?

***

I've placed an arrow on the map to indicate from which direction you are approaching.

Netkin stops dead in his tracks. "Did something get out?" He stammers, shooting very anxious looks around him.

Perception (spot possible enemies): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25

Cerrus compares the map of the citadel from his tome to the structure in front of him. "'A central structure with two wings.' That part seems accurate enough."

Cerrus scans the area for movement, tracks, signs of life, etc.

Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6

We obviously can't see into the structure. But can we make out the (what I assume is) collapsed wall on the northern side?