Meet here.
From Hochoch, the Realstream is quickly crossed at a shallow ford, and you follow a caravan track that winds along the south side of a narrow creek. The plains here are flat and grassy. Occasionally, large cottonwood trees grow along the stream, but in general the plain is unforested.
For several days, you pass through an uninhabited region with no untoward experiences. Finally, staying always to the right of the creek, the track enters a region of prosperous farms surrounded by fields of grain or
pastures for cows and goats.
Early on the fourth afternoon of the trip, a cluster of buildings and trees becomes visible ahead, with the stone walls of a temple beyond—ORLANE. At the outskirts of Orlane, a large grove of elms is visible to the left, while several wooden buildings border the road to the right.
Foot sore and weary the rogue lets a groan escape from his lips as he stops to stretch at the sight of their destination. He shoulders his pack and looked back toward his companions, ”To the temple first?”
The young, one-eyed human female who goes by the name of "Tavern Tale" has been mostly silent since she recently joined your party, but when she's interacted with anyone she seems amiable enough. At night, though, the young woman has curled up alone in a fetal position with only a ragged cloak to keep her warm. From her general lack of belongings, it's a safe bet she's running away from something and didn't have the time to gather enough equipment before escaping to the east. Nonetheless, the girl has not yet let anyone in on her secrets.
As has become her custom, Tavern Tale travels in the midst of the group, her one good blue eye darting about inquisitively to take in her surroundings.
"Looks like a village, and a simple one at that," she comments to no one in particular, before going back to scoping out the settlement's outskirts. "The temple might be the heart of this community," she pipes in after hearing the aptly-named Tall make a suggestion.
The ever cheerful Brenfine, walked along with her friends, the reigns of her mule in one hand, and a knocked arrow in the other. As the traveled she would keep an eye out for familiar herbs and stop and gather anything she thought would aid in her healing arts, or even useful alchemical reagents, storing them on the mule, tied up with string on her pack saddle.
As an orphan, Brenfine found it good to make friends of those around her. As their troupe traveled, she would chat amiably with all her fellow adventures. From the dwarf to the humans and even the orc woman, she would always seek to find common ground for chatter. The young man, still without the carriage of an adult, Sea Ranger, interested her the most. A man of a different divine patron and also a half-breed like herself, she found the most in common with him.
"A town ahead, I hope we have a bed for the night and a warm meal in our future. I should think an inn would be the best place to visit first. A place to lodge our belongings and listen to the town rumors. But the temple would make a very reasonable second place to visit Tallen, excellent suggestion. Anyone else have some other ideas?" Brenfine tries to get the opinions of all her companions heard, no one should be silent in the company of friends.
A dwarf that looks like a gnarled fist with hair stapled to it stomps along with the group. His red hair is cut into a mohawk on top of his head and his beard is braided and comes down to his waist. Clad in scalemail and metal reinforced boots, he reeks of alcohol and his bloodshot eyes glare about. Looking at the town he grunt sin agreement with Brenfine. Aye, get us to the inn and see about a room for the night.
Gothia sits tall and proud upon her warhorse, Barbos. While her armour may be dusty from the day's journey, every night she takes pains to clean and polish the suit of Lamellar Steel.
"What gods do you think they worship here?", she asks in her deep voice with the accent of a Shield Lander still strong.
The scrawny Tavern Tale has positioned herself as far away from the scary paladin on her scary horse as possible. Knowing that she can't avoid the holy warrior forever, TT replies, "Well, I don't know much of anything about the gods. If I had to guess, I'd say a god of the harvest or some sort of divine protector, living as they do in such an isolated place."
Brenfine snickers along with the dwarf's grunt, "I could have guessed your choice by the smell of your breath, my friend" jibes the wiry half-elf, teasing Chestman with a huge smile.
At their knight's question, she ponders before responding. "I should think it might be Saint Cuthbert or even The Archpaladin, both are not uncommon in these parts. However, in small villages such as this, it is quite common for the folk to worship the Old Faith, or perhaps even Pelor or Kord."
OOC: Perhaps I know something more specific rather than idle speculation,
”We should give prayers at the temple first. Then, when we get to the inn we can eat and go to sleep.” Krishka pipes up as she carefully works her way around a muddy puddle in the road. Somehow she manages to do that while her nose is still stuffed in a book, having not looked up even to partake in conversations.
”I don’t care which gods they worship here as long as they have a poultice for my aching feet,” the young rogue muttered under his breath. However, he is swayed by Brenfine’s and the dwarf’s pragmatism conceding, ”Fine, first the inn. Hopefully, a soft bed and a drink or two will help me to forget my aching feet.”
With nary a glance behind Tallen limps his way towards the buildings looking for a sign that would denote an inn.
There are two places to hang your head. One of them is the Golden Grain Inn, and the other is the Inn of the Slumbering Serpent. The Golden Grain Inn is the closest of the two.
Aside from inns, there is a temple you can go to get healed. Called the Temple of Merrika, a temple dedicated to a minor agricultural deity.
OOC: Perhaps I know something more specific rather than idle speculation, K Religion: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14
You can't recall all the details.
Vesica Perception Check: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21
The Golden Grain Inn sounds a lot safer and more wholesome to her ears than the Inn of the Slumbering Serpent, but the young one-eyed bard keeps the thought to herself. Either way, she starts making plans to perhaps entertain the locals and thus earn a free meal and/or room as recompense.
Noticing a young person churning butter nearby, TT calls out in a friendly tone and asks for a moment of their time. She asks which inn they'd recommend and then informs the young person that she'll be telling some heroic tales and fables there that night in the hopes of working up a crowd.
Sea Ranger proves to be a somewhat quiet companion, unless asked about his opinion of the lay of the land, if this or that berry or nut is safe to eat, or what sort of animal track or scat he just knelt down to examine. Then the young man speaks amiably about the subject until he gets the sense that the interest of his audience his waning.
His dark hair is long, and his eyes are a deep blue - not unlike the sea, the place he considers his home. But the half-elven druid has elected to expand his knowledge of the natural world to her rivers, forests and mountains - bringing him here. Though Sea Ranger is perfectly at ease living alone, he also finds there is a certain charm when surrounded by companions - most certainly an aspect of his human heritage and the early life he knew aboard his father's ship, with a fiercely loyal crew always nearby.
"I wouldn't mind a good meal and a soft bed." He admits in response to Tallen's words. The druid's gaze strays toward the sky where his keen eyes easily pick up Scout soaring a hundred feet overhead - his companion's fierce eyes searching for any danger that might threaten the party far below.
Noticing a young person churning butter nearby, TT calls out in a friendly tone and asks for a moment of their time. She asks which inn they'd recommend and then informs the young person that she'll be telling some heroic tales and fables there that night in the hopes of working up a crowd.
Vesica Diplomacy Check: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18
She says, "Hello! I didn't know you were a storyteller."
After hearing the names of both inns, the Golden Grain Inn has a name the feel better to Brenfine's instincts. "I'm thinking the Golden Grain Inn sounds like a better place, or at least has a name that feels more pleasent. Let's make our way over there, yes?" she suggests to the group
”Aye, and closer too,” Tallen readily agreed. With rest so close he made his way toward the Golden Grain Inn, opened the door, and entered. He paused a moment in the doorway, giving eyes a moment to adjust, while he examined the scene before him.
This room seems like a pleasant place, but the people are subdued, generally sitting alone. Those sitting together are not talking and no fires are lit in the fireplaces. Several barrels of light and dark beer are tapped behind the bar.
Good, Tallen concluded giving a slight nod of acceptance. The young man bellied up to the bar, waved for assistance, while asking with a lopsided grin, ”Some beer here… something dark… to match the somber mood of the place.”
The Innkeep nods, and pours a pint of dark beer. "That will be five copper pieces," he says.
The bard smiles at the young villager and approaches her at a trot. "Indeed I am!" she replies. "Tavern Tale the Bard, at your service, milady!" She drops suddenly into a deep curtsy, her right leg swinging out to her side, as do her slender arms. A moment later she's standing at her full height again (though it's not much--TT stands around 5 feet tall), ending her elaborate bow with a flourish of her dainty hands. "Purveyor of short stories, tall tales...and everything in between!"
Glancing over her shoulder to flash a triumphant grin at her companions, TT is a bit surprised to see that most of them have continued marching, heading, it seems, for the inn.
"Ah...looks like I'll be staying at the Golden Grain Inn tonight," the bard informs her fellow teen. "I hope you'll join us this evening for some of my storytelling!"
Following after Tallen, Brenfine hitches her mule then holds open the door for companions "Lets put our feet up for a moment and grab a drink to clear the dust from out throats. Perhaps we can get a sense for the town while we are here. "
Brenfine is stunned by the sombre mood in the tavern. The bustle and chatter that should be ever present in a common room is missing and that doesn't sit well with her. After everyone has entered she heads to the bar. "Good day sir, how are you on this fine day?" she asks wile ordering a drink, hoping to engage the innkeeper in conversation.
Sea Ranger, who had been watching Scout soaring above, catches TT's look toward the retreating backs of their companions. He coughs softly, to catch her attention as she finishes speaking with the young man she'd asked about the inns. "I think they liked the name better than the other one." He adds apologetically to both of them, then he saunters along behind TT as they make their way to the Golden Grain Inn. "I'm looking forward to seeing you perform in a public house," he says. "The bards and minstrels I've heard tend to be somewhat... bawdy, if you know what I mean. Dockside taverns, you know. I suppose you must play to your audience, but I wouldn't mind hearing stories and songs with fewer... ah... suggestive references." The half-elf's ears turn a bit red at the tips as he glances again at the sky.
Once they reach the inn, Sea Ranger orders himself a meal, a glass of wine and space on the floor for the night - if he can afford any of that, for he is mindful of the few coins in his pouch. If necessary, he can sleep outdoors easily enough. The druid also notices the somber mood of the inn, but he doesn't think much of it. Perhaps country folk are simply less boisterous than sailors?
Chestman shrugs, figuring that one inn is as good as another and strides in, heading up to the bar and thumping his hand on it. Dark ale. He slaps down five copper.
Following after Tallen, Brenfine hitches her mule then holds open the door for companions "Lets put our feet up for a moment and grab a drink to clear the dust from out throats. Perhaps we can get a sense for the town while we are here. "
Brenfine is stunned by the sombre mood in the tavern. The bustle and chatter that should be ever present in a common room is missing and that doesn't sit well with her. After everyone has entered she heads to the bar. "Good day sir, how are you on this fine day?" she asks wile ordering a drink, hoping to engage the innkeeper in conversation.
"I have no complaints," says the barkeep. He notices the dwarf demand dark ale. He pours a pint of dark beer and hands it to the dwarf. "Sorry, I don't serve ale. I serve beer."
He turns back to Brenfine. "I run a tight ship here," he says. "So a strange lass, what brings you here?"
Gothia watches the rest of the party head for the tavern, while she slowly gets down from Barbos and heads for the closest stable. She will spend the time removing the war horses' barding, tack and saddle, which she checks over and cleans as she sets it aside. Finally, she looks for feed to give the giant horse before shouldering her saddlebags and heading into the tavern.
Brenfine chats up the innkeeper "I can see that, and a fine place you have here. My companions and I set out from Hochoch seeking adventure. We are wanderers looking to find those in need to help, foes to vanquish or simply new people to meet." she says with a smile. "The common room here is very quiet, so different from the other inns and taverns I've visited before. Has someone passed recently, or perhaps some other dire event? I don't want to offend someone with an uninformed comment, I hope you understand."
Tallen places five coppers on the bar top then lifts his mug to his lips. He gulped down a few swallows of the dark brew while he watches the barkeep and his response to Brenfine’s questions.
Gothia watches the rest of the party head for the tavern, while she slowly gets down from Barbos and heads for the closest stable. She will spend the time removing the war horses' barding, tack and saddle, which she checks over and cleans as she sets it aside. Finally, she looks for feed to give the giant horse before shouldering her saddlebags and heading into the tavern.
There is a stable boy to help you. He's kind of unhappy at the moment. "I can help you with your horse," he says. He looks to be about 15 years of age. He starts helping you take off the barding on your horse. "I'm going to leave this town."
Brenfine chats up the innkeeper "I can see that, and a fine place you have here. My companions and I set out from Hochoch seeking adventure. We are wanderers looking to find those in need to help, foes to vanquish or simply new people to meet." she says with a smile. "The common room here is very quiet, so different from the other inns and taverns I've visited before. Has someone passed recently, or perhaps some other dire event? I don't want to offend someone with an uninformed comment, I hope you understand."
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 2 = 21
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 2 = 20
Tallen places five coppers on the bar top then lifts his mug to his lips. He gulped down a few swallows of the dark brew while he watches the barkeep and his response to Brenfine’s questions.
sense motive aid another DC 10: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 1 = 20
Both of you have the feeling he's hiding something. "Nobody's passed, just that this town has hit on some hard times," he explains. "People's gone missing, and the crocodiles are coming out of the swamp and attacking people."
Krishka closes her book as stops by the temple first, to give a few prayers for the safe journey thus far. Then she goes to the inn and heads for the bar, ”Fresh tea and a room please.” she says politely. She looks around while she waits, curious why the place is so dim and subdued. When her tea arrives she asks about it, ”Things seem dreary today. Is it always like this around here?” her tone curious and polite, but with good clothes and proper speech, she is obviously a noble.
Krishka closes her book as stops by the temple first, to give a few prayers for the safe journey thus far. Then she goes to the inn and heads for the bar, ”Fresh tea and a room please.” she says politely. She looks around while she waits, curious why the place is so dim and subdued. When her tea arrives she asks about it, ”Things seem dreary today. Is it always like this around here?” her tone curious and polite, but with good clothes and proper speech, she is obviously a noble.
The barkeep prepares some fresh tea. "Like I said, the town has fallen on hard times," he explains.
Brenfine is shocked to hear of the troubles facing this town "People missing and crocodiles leaving the swamp! What force could be driving crocodiles out of their home and to attack villagers?" she asks musing out loud "Has something like this every happened here before? Where have the people gone missing?" The priestess is very curious to get any additional information from the innkeeper.
Sea Ranger catches the barman's attention and makes his own order. "Do you have wine for anything less than five copper? If not, I'll take a beer. And some stew, if you have any." The druid thinks on what he has heard, and asks a follow-up question. "Do the crocodiles come into the village itself? Or do they attack those that are alone and outside? And the missing? Are they presumed to be victims of crocodiles, or something else? I don't suppose anyone has seen anything strange?"
He considers what he's told and what he's heard so far, trying to determine if it is unusual in any way, or simply one of the dangers settlers face when staking out homes too close to swampland.
Gothia looks over at the boy and then asks,
"Why do you seek to leave? The place seems quiet and mostly fruitful. Is there something you wish that cannot be found here?"
She leans against the stable door jam, cleaning and oiling some of the tack while speaking to the boy. Her view is split between the inside of the stable and the outer yard of the Inn.
On their way to the Golden Grain, TT tells Sea Ranger, "I'm not the greatest singer, so I mostly just tell stories about brave and clever heroes and the legendary monsters they face. I sometimes tell bawdy tales, but I don't think they'd go over particularly well here, so I'll respect your request and keep my performance family-friendly tonight."
Once inside the inn, the young bard looks around for anything remotely resembling a stage or platform where she might perform a bit later. She orders a plate of simple bread, cheese, and fruit while treating herself to a mug of beer. She sits quietly and looks around the room while eating, trying to figure out who's in charge of the place and, thus, who she needs to ask about telling a few of her tales as entertainment for the evening.
Rampaging crocs? Sounds like an opportunity to get us some croc meat and hide to make boots.
Sea Ranger catches the barman's attention and makes his own order. "Do you have wine for anything less than five copper? If not, I'll take a beer. And some stew, if you have any." The druid thinks on what he has heard, and asks a follow-up question. "Do the crocodiles come into the village itself? Or do they attack those that are alone and outside? And the missing? Are they presumed to be victims of crocodiles, or something else? I don't suppose anyone has seen anything strange?"
He considers what he's told and what he's heard so far, trying to determine if it is unusual in any way, or simply one of the dangers settlers face when staking out homes too close to swampland.
Knowledge (Nature) 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26
"The crocodiles have ventured into the farms," the barkeep says. "But I have not seen them in town, yet. As for the missing, I don't know what happens to them. Their has been tales of them being captured for strange and exotic rituals. Oh, we don't have any wine. Just dark or light beer. I do have a stew cooking though."
The barkeep hands you some hot stew, made from lamb's meat, carrots, barley, and onions.
Gothia looks over at the boy and then asks,
"Why do you seek to leave? The place seems quiet and mostly fruitful. Is there something you wish that cannot be found here?"
She leans against the stable door jam, cleaning and oiling some of the tack while speaking to the boy. Her view is split between the inside of the stable and the outer yard of the Inn.
"There's no future for me here and I have prospects," he says. "Plus someone tried to kidnap my sister."
Sea Ranger smiles at the barkeep. "My thanks, a light beer is just fine. Have you a name we might call you?" He dips his spoon into the stew and brings it to his mouth, then quickly decides he should let it cool for a few minutes. The druid frowns at the dwarf's enthusiasm for slaughtering the local wildlife, even if they were causing trouble. Something about the whole thing rings wrong to him, however.
Picking up on his earlier musings, the druid speaks as he waits. "Crocodiles coming out of the swamp to prey on villagers is... unusual behavior for such animals. Very much so, as a matter of fact. What about these 'strange and exotic rituals' you mentioned? A local cult of some kind? I would think human sacrifice would be banned in towns and villages not under the influence of an evil priest or the like." He takes another careful bite of the stew and finds the taste quite pleasant and nods his approval at the barkeep.
Sea Ranger smiles at the barkeep. "My thanks, a light beer is just fine. Have you a name we might call you?" He dips his spoon into the stew and brings it to his mouth, then quickly decides he should let it cool for a few minutes. The druid frowns at the dwarf's enthusiasm for slaughtering the local wildlife, even if they were causing trouble. Something about the whole thing rings wrong to him, however.
Picking up on his earlier musings, the druid speaks as he waits. "Crocodiles coming out of the swamp to prey on villagers is... unusual behavior for such animals. Very much so, as a matter of fact. What about these 'strange and exotic rituals' you mentioned? A local cult of some kind? I would think human sacrifice would be banned in towns and villages not under the influence of an evil priest or the like." He takes another careful bite of the stew and finds the taste quite pleasant and nods his approval at the barkeep.
"You can call me Bertram Biswell," he says. "Yes, a cult."
Sensing the opportunity to make some coin Tallen asks between sips, ”Goodman Bertram is there a bounty or reward for dealing with these cultists and critters and such?”
The druid allows himself a small smile at Tallen's question. He's come to view the rogue not unlike a raptor, snatching up loose coins with its talons almost instinctively, attracted to the sparkling object. A fitting bit of wordplay indeed, the druid decided soon after meeting the man and learning his name. "Call me Sea Ranger. And odd name, I know - but it is the one I use. Beyond any reward, is there anyone with further information on this cult, Bertram? If they are preying on innocents, they must be stopped. But we'll need to learn a bit more about them."
Tavern Tale looks up from her plate of food briefly when Bertram mentions a cult; then her attention returns to her meal. A moment later though, she chokes on the bread crust she's chewing and has to wash away a coughing fit with a deep swig from her mug of beer. Raising a hand limply toward the others, the young woman gasps, "I'm all right--just a crumb going down the wrong pipe."
She's lying; the mention of a potential cult in the area legitimately spooked Tavern Tale.
Sea Ranger glances back in concern as he hears TT begin to choke...
...then pauses for the barest of moments before turning his attention back to Bertram.
Sensing the opportunity to make some coin Tallen asks between sips, ”Goodman BertramIs there a bounty or reward for dealing with these cultists and critters and such?”
"If there is, I don't know of it," says Bertram. "However, you might want to check with the mayor. Probably he'd know."
He turns to Sea Ranger. "The mayor might know," says Bertram.
”You should stop eating so fast,” the young man thought, but wisely held his tongue, while he gave annoyed shake of his head. Looking back to Bertram, ”Don’t be paying her no never mind. She’s fine….. now where can we find the mayor?”
Something in either the innkeeper's eyes or tone doesn't quite sit right with Tavern Tale, so she remains silent while trying to figure out what set off her inner alarm just then.
Sea Ranger nods in thanks. "We'll do that. Is the mayor difficult to get a hold of? Would he, uh... still be in his office? Or does he have an office? Would we just go up to his house and ask to speak with him?" The druid recalls in the large seaport of Monmurg, the shipwrights and captains would often have to wait a day or two sometimes to see those in power. And the sprawling city of Gradsul... The druid was awestruck and more than a little frightened at the sheer size of the place compared even to Monmurg.
That was where he'd come to his decision to leave the sea for a time and wander the lands - preferably well away from such cities clogged with humanity. He'd made his way into the lands of Geoff, and eventually to Hochoch - but the druid hadn't particularly liked that town either. Though it was smaller even than Monmurg, it had the feel of a military fort rather than a town, and when he'd met those that would become his companions in a fairly quiet tavern, he'd seized gratefully on their plans to leave the place and find suitable adventure elsewhere.
The half-elf slowly returns from his musings to consider Bertram's words again as he finishes his stew. Perhaps in a village like this, one could simply walk up to see the mayor on a whim?
Gothia forgets her cleaning and she takes a step towards the boy.
"Someone has tried to take your sister! Who is this? Why did they want her? I wish to help, but I need to know everything you do!"
"Yes, someone tried to take her," said the stable boy. "A cult, some troglodytes tried to take her. We managed to stop them, but they were stronger. We almost didn't stop them, but my mother managed to cast a spell."
"The Mayor is in his office right now, probably solving a big problem," Bertram said. "His building is in the main square. Of course to see him, you have to get past his secretary."
"By The Archpaladin! Who knows of this? Have you called your militia together? This is terrible...come let us speak to my companions. We must do something to drive these cultists out and destroy any foothold they may have!"
She takes the lad by the arm and the two of them enter the tavern.
"My friends! Evil is afoot within this village! An evil cult of body snatchers and hideous troglodytes infest this fair land."
She stands with the boy, waiting for the others to react to her news.