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I can't help but feel that's partly my fault. I know life got in the way for some of us as well, but still. I abide by the will of the majority.

The mayor is still at his desk as you come back downstairs. He looks up expectantly.

I see. Comes the reply followed by a moment of silence. [/b]I have redirected both Simon and Arthur to your location pending the council's decision. They should get back to me in.. oh.. that was fast. One moment. [/b]
One moment later...
Yes. Ok, evacuation approved to a village north west of the lake you encountered before along the road called Elderbury. Apparently it as already accepted some refugees and the council thinks they would be willing to take on more. Your new mission is to get those people out of there. And the quieter the better. The other teams are on their way to you. Hopefully. Simon still hasn't responded.

I see. comes the hesitant response. What is your recommendation? I will report to the council for an emergency directive.

Senna? Lillibet sounds suprised to be hearing from you so soon. Ok, an update. Well, Simon has yet to report in. I'm starting to get concerned for him as he is usually very reliable.
Arthur is playing a game of cat and mouse with some undead to your west still. He recently reported contact with a an undead mage and a couple enthralled trolls, but he was was well west of you, near the lake.
News from the other sectors is promising. There seems to be mostly a token undead presence in this area and there have been friendly contacts with several Crusader detachments. I hear one sector in the north already has a trade deal in place.
Your tone, however, has me just as concerned as Simon's lack of report. What's going on?

There mayor nods vigorously. We might be able to fit the whole town in here if we used every room, but it would be cramped, for sure.

But yes, please, use one of the meeting rooms upstairs. First door on the right, second floor.

The meeting room is simple with ten chairs around a long table and a chalk board along the far wall. The rest of the second floor seems to be other meeting or storage spaces.

Either way is fine with me.

That's no problem.

Does anyone else have things to say?

The mayor nods with some hesitancy after the spoken Orcish, which he clearly doesn't understand. Umm...There is some stone in the bottom floor here, but the wood is old and strong. This is easily the sturdiest structure in town.

Mayor Silverwroth answers Senna while James gets a map. Dunn's Crick is about a day north. Given the time it would take to get a message here, we could expect them as early as tonight. Maybe tomorrow morning at the latest.
Unless you have some magic reinforcements up your sleeve fighting them in open battle is right out. We're overcrowded with farmers and woods-people, not soldiers. We can button up pretty tight in here, so just hunkering down for a siege and letting them pass us by is an option. We aren't exactly an important strategic objective for anybody. They'll probably try to take a crack at us though on the way.
Running and hiding in the woods would be an option if we had a place to go. The forest's Druid Circle would be relatively safe, but no one knows where that is.
As for leading them away, well you would stand a better chance of that than us. We're simple folk, no guerilla fighters.

James produces the map. It's not a fancy one. It essentially shows Dunn's Creek to the north and the winding road through to Axbite and then south still until it veers eastish toward the lake you spotted where it turns full east around the southern edge of the lake and proceeds on to a town called Fury's Ferry some distance and a few days' travel off. You are in a VERY rural part of Ustalav. A second, larger map puts you in west-central Ustalav in general, right on the outskirts of the famous Crusade. There isn't much precise detail on the maps though. You think that Simple Simon and his band of woodsy folks should be somewhere nearby in these woods. So should Arthur, come to think of it.

The mayor nods at your arrival and tells James, Go ahead, son.

James takes a moment, but reports, Just got a message from a contact of mine. He was "called up" into the crusade about a year ago and got stationed up near Dunn's Crick.
Undead are on the move. Lots of 'em. The scouts might already be around here. We need to bring everyone in and button up while we still can!

I took care of the scouts. Archie replies matter of factly. Archepex's horde, so not to many of the nastier creepers, but he's got numbers, that's for sure. He's been harvestin' the forrest for light troops if the local Druids were to be believed before they disappeared. They'll keep to the road without that forward news, so they'll be comin' right here.

The man doesn't answer, seemingly set on reaching the Mayor as fast as his legs will carry him.

The kids all respond with characteristic wonder at the little lanterns of magic and predictably follow them off, leaving the party free to follow after the clanking Tin Man.

You enter the town hall just as the guard... what was his name... James? is saying We'll be overrun! He notices you instantly and his jaw clicks shut.

Ok, here we go! Time to get this show back on track!

The stubborn lid slowly aids you in gaining the trust of the local children. At the failed displays of strength you slowly start to hear snickers and whispers. Slowly, so slowly, 13 children appear from around you. They are universally dirty. Most are barefoot, but walk like they've never worn shoes. Most are human, but you spot a couple especially small ones that are halflings. Eventually the children gather around the lid and one of you actually gets a grip. The lid rips off the hole. One light spell later (to excited giggles and cheers and ohhhs from the kids) you determine that the water store is very low and dirty. A few quick spells take care of that.

From there you go to the food storage trailing your new entourage behind you. There you find the stores low, but are able to cure whatever rot you find with ease.

As you are making your way back to Mayor Silverwroth, the clank of badly fitting armor sounds from the opposite gate from where you entered and the zealous guard sprints down the main street toward the town hall, a look of dread in his eyes and a paper flapping in his hand.

I'm good. The holidays were crazy for me, but I'm also coming back online. I was actually planning a post for either this evening or tomorrow.

The lid refuses to budge. My word this is heavy... is it stuck somewhere or secured or something??

No worries about Slip. I can write him into the background pretty easily.

And no worries for you either, Lady Sable. I understand busy. It's peak for me here too.

The kids slowly seperate into the brave and the shy. Two boys and a girl, all with a healthy layer of dirt on them, edge into eyesight to get a peek at what's going on.

With no other questions readily apparent, the group makes their way out with all proper pleasantries. Archie strides along beside them, perfectly at ease.
The water cisterns are just where the Mayer had described. Four large, flat stones stand in a diamond in perhaps the single lot in the walls that wasn't taken up by some kind of building. In the center stands a wooden crane with a hook clearly intended to help in lifting the lids.

The mayor thinks for a moment. Very well. I am Greg Silverwroth, by the way. Don't know if Archie mentioned that. Your offers are tempting, but I hope you'll forgive me if I'm a bit shy. I haven't heard of a company called Thresher, and I know most of the companies in a year's radius. That being said, nothing is as it was around here.
Very well. Let's see this magic. Our cleric was "called" to service the crusaders early in the war and our local druid is a rare sight recently, so any help you can give will be thankfully received and paid for as we are able.
Head to the South gate and look for four flat strones. Those are our sistern lids. Archie can show you. Stick with him and nobody will give you any trouble save maybe Alba. That old bat respects nobody under 75, I swear. After that, head to the westernmost building. That's our main storehouse. The more you help, the more you'll be helped, on my word.

It's ok. I understand. Family can do that.

Archie thinks for a moment. I'll let the mayor fill you in there. I'll say tough that the town's stores won't last long with this many people, and with the blight out there messing with the crops, not to mention military vultures from both sides... he pauses again. The future is uncertain.

At three stories plus a steep roof, the government building/mayor's house is the tallest building in town. It's sturdy foundation is cut stone and it's beams are old growth timbers. The second and third floors over hang the floor below, creating a significant overhang above the road through town. The place smells of wood smoke and books, but feels like a guardian watching over all the other smaller buildings.

When you enter the first floor you notice first how bright it is. The walls are lined with many bright lanterns that overcome the wooden wall's efforts to drink in the light. It's mostly empty save for a short stage on the far wall and a desk manned by a middle age human on the right.
He looks up when you come in, his eyes heavy and dark-ringed. They smilw weakly when they land on Archie.
Archie, my friend. Welcome. I was wondering when you'd be back. Who have you dragged in this time? he says. His voice is cheery, but guarded.
Oh, not dragged, Mr. Mayor. These here are trading scouts from a company I... Uhh.. say, I forgot to ask which company you're from!
He turns and looks at you apologetically.

Archie lowers his voice. A little of both, really. The fog and the war scared lots of people. The blight didn't help. They're sleeping five to a room now. All except Crazy Mergil and his circle house. Fool's convinced the house is out for blood.

Archie's prediction of "Dinnertime" for your arrival proves to be spot on. The first evidence you discover of Axbite is not sight or sound, but smell. A woody smoke is first, but almost immediately after is the smell of cooking food. Soon after that you see the blue haze of cook fires drifting like the morning fog through the trees. Then you come to a clearing, but not entirely natural one. Trees have been cleared for close to a hundred yards before their stumps fall away into a more natural grass. In the center of the clearing is a small town, a village really, of maybe a dozen buildings all told. You're not sure because the buildings are surrounded by a newly built palisade and you have to count chimneys. Smoke rises from each of her stacks and lanterns frame the gate that swallows the road.

Welcome to Axebite! Best place to kick up yer heels in about three days travel any direction!

As you get a bit closer a lone patrol man rounds the wooden wall. He wears battered breastplate and carries a long pike. He notices you immediately and rushes to the gate. His armor clanking all the way and telegraphing it's poor fit.
Who goes there! a gruff man's voice demands.

Calm down, James, It's me! Arty! And I've found some friends in the woods. Artie calls, clearly trying to calm the eager guard down.

Ain't nobody friendly anymore! Not around here! James acuses.

So you say, but if anybody's gonna find a friendly, it's me, eh? Archie counters. James pauses, but his eyes, which you can now make out, narrow.

Fine. But straight to the Mayer, ya here! he commands.

That was the plan, James, that was the plan. Artie sighs and waves you through the ajar gate. James' eyes follow you until you pass through, then he clanks away on his circular patrol.

The town seems somehow bigger on the inside. You do indeed count a dozen buildings, only one of three stories, to which Archie is leading you. Other buildings you note immidiately is a blacksmith, a wood worker's or carpenter's hut, an alchemist's shop (with a sign proclaiming that it is also Alma's Ale House), and a single circular building with a man sleeping in its doorway.

The rock responds after a few seconds, Thank you Senna. Be advised that we haven't heard from Simple Simon yet and Arthur has reported contact with undead forces in the area to your west, though nothing significant.

A voice answers after a long moment, Yes, Senna. What is your report?

1d20 ⇒ 14
Archie seems to accept Slip's explanation without missing a beat. Huh. Well, I've heard of prophets and oracles and the like, so I guess you're not that weird. Especially if you have Other Places poking around in your head.

He leads you on (and sometimes drifts behind) at a friendly pace, occasionally wandering off the road to check on something only he perceives as odd. He gives your arrival time to be about "Dinner", so probably around the latest time you're supposed to report back to Lilibet.

Archie's eyes widen in suprise. You've heard of him? I haven't met anyone else who has. Where are youall from that he's earned a name for you as well? But yes, you can tell me all about it as we travel. I was on my way in anyway, so I'll gladly take the company!
He hops up and starts cleaning up lunch.

He's no fan of the Tyrant, I can tell ya that much. Whether that's because he's an actual friend... Archie shrugs.

Archie chuckles at that. I'm flattered. Unusually people say I smell like dung! I'm not sure how true it is as I always smell like me to me.
Anyway.
Axebite will be happy to have ya. Especially if you got crafters. When ya get into town tell the guard that Archie sent ya, then talk to Mayor Silverwroth. He'll be able to point ya to who needs what. If you need something repaired the Gnome couple will do ya fair. Can't pronounce their names. Everyone calls them B and E.
He pauses for a moment, clearly mulling something over. And, as an act of good will, I'll tell ya more about what got these guys.
He motions to the cord of corpses. And then takes a deep breath.
That there is the handiwork of Reombarth. A dragon.

1d20 ⇒ 15
Archie gently holds up a hand to stop you. Wait. Apologies. It has been a difficult day. Please, sit. I believe you.

He nods, I guess that's fair enough. If you've seen a fair bit of crafted goods then there's a good chance we can help each other. Axebite's got plenty of raw stuff, but I bet we could use some help puttin' it together. Ya see, about 6 months ago the Taldans came through here and... *forced cough*... 'receuited' most of our young lads and craftsman for the war. he looks for a moment at Lady Sable. His demeanor shifts. The sun above, piercing the branched canopy in rays of warmth, goes cold. He looks at Yash. His voice cools with the temperature.

But, before I say more, I'm afraid I have to press. A Taldan of some nice upbringing wanders in here with her nose in everything except the food right beside a mercenary savage from a people I KNOW to be on the side of Death Itself and a boy who's more than passing familiar with Shadow. And to top it all of, we have you, Senna. The normal one. Quite the little adventuring group. Or scouting party.
So, tell me. How close have I come? Because either you satisfy me that you're no threat, or you turn back. That towns been hurt enough by 'foraging parties' and 'supply companies' and 'security forces', not to mention the Tyrant's offerings.
1d20 ⇒ 11

His left eyebrow lifts gently. Mutual aid, eh? Mind lettin' me in on a bit more detail? How much aid are we talking?

Archie starts up the conversation as you eat, So, you all said you were looking to trade, mind if I ask what? I might be able to point ya to the right person in town.

Archie looks like he thinks Yash might bite him. Literally.

Archie's meal is delicious, if simple. A thick stew with wild greens and some hard bread with water to wash it down. Archie seems most wary of Yash, once he appears, and subtlety keeps the fire between himself and the half-orc.

I swear I posted a response. Must be forum goblins again...

Archie nods. That it does. It's lean times around here. Even the animals are super skittish and I hear the crops are weak at best. Even the local druid can't reverse it. He glances meaningfully at the stacked bodies as if unwilling to even voice the probable source of the hard times.

Archie doesn't look up from his work. He's done with the rabbit and he's now carving up a beaver just as efficiently. Axbite's the name. Not a terribly large place as permanent folk go, but this time of year's good for caravans. This road here stretches for miles and goes through loads of towns all up and down Ustalav. Caravans are usually thick as thistles along it, as well as bandits of course, but the War has really cut down on all that. If you're looking to trade, plenty of folk would welcome ya.

Lady Sable: At a glance you see signs of violent dismemberment, probably from claws or a powerful bite. These wounds look very similar to the limbs you found earlier. You also see signs of elemental damage, Frostbite from cold damage, some melted skin from acid, a few burns. A few were clearly stabbed or hacked/sliced. They seem stacked in such a way as to conceal their faces.

Speaking of, when Archie looks up at you, his eyes glint. Not shine or twinkle. You wouldn't blame anyone for not noticing the difference, but as a swordswoman who has spent more than a few hours across from polished steel, you know that particular shine that flashes off a blade as it flicks through a ray of sun. And you see it now, just for an instant, in Archie's grey eyes.

Oh I caught me a couple beavers and hares around the lake earlier today. They're not big enough for spit cooking, but a nice stew will do just fine. If one of you younger lads wouldn't mind getting the water out of the dead guy's skins and puttin' it in that pot over there, and if you ladies wouldn't mind getting this fire up and poppin' again, I'll do the dirty work.
He doesn't wait for positive replies. He stands up and goes over to a burlap sack. It produces a mid-sized rabbit, and Archie gets to cleaning it with a wickedly sharp knife. His movements are precise and quick. Skin parts from muscle parts from bone as easily as turning pages in a book.

Archie nods to Senna. Nice to meet you, my dear. As for trading, I don't have much. I'm just a trapper. I'm on my way back to town, if youall wanna follow me, after lunch of course. If not, I understand. Just follow the road away from the lake. Can't miss it.

Glad to have you back!

Archie glances back at the pile of bodies. Oh, ya. Those guys. They met somethin' nasty out here. Killed most of 'em, though I saw a couple sets of tracks leading away so it wasn't a total wipeout. Don't see no monster tracks though so I don't rightly know what did it.

As the party emerges from the woods the old man smiles at each in turn. My name's Archie. You folks ain't from around here? he asks as the coal bed starts to produce tentative little licks of flame. I'm from Axbite over yonder. he waves in the general direction of the road.

Senna: You are able to get a closer look pretty easily. All the shoulders of the bodies have the same crest, black with horizontal silver stripes backgrouding a laughing skull.

Erebus: You get back the feeling of Endless Breadsticks. You may not even be aware that was a food option, but there it is. Warm and inviting and smelling like home and somehow endlessly deep, yet simple.

Senna: You spot a patch half obscured by an arm on the shoulder of one of the corpses, black with silver stripes. You also notice that all the tents still have bedding in them and the bodies are piled in what seems to be the storage tent. This camp site could easily accommodate 20-25 men.
But you see nothing in the man's demeanor that would suggest lies or hidden threats and you're certain the area is clear of hidden foes, unless they were very, very good at it.

The man looks up and meets your eyes. His are a dull grey and kind. His smile radiates warmth like a grandpa's hug. Good afternoon, young man! I was just preparing to cook lunch. Please, tell your friends to join me.
He pokes the fire a few more times and a couple sparks start to leap feebly upwards.

perception, modifiers withheld: 1d20 ⇒ 14

The man either doesn't detect you or doesn't react to you. He leans over the fire and starts trying to encourage it back to life.

The party makes their way around the lake. It's not as fast as the road and you have to pick your path to accommodate the horses, but the worst monster you see is a downright obese squirrel who chitters all kinds of abuse at you as you pass under his domain.
As you approach the vicinity of the smoke, yes it's for sure smoke now, it gets harder to follow. The musk of pine needles mixed with the wood smoke beautifully as the sun approaches noon and the temperature climbs. You track down a moderate camp site, six tents in a circle surrounding a smouldering, still smoking fire pit and spit (empty, unfortunately). The tents are black and heavy supported with fresh cut branches. You see nobody nearby (though you can't see the whole site) and no sentinel challenges you on approach.

To be clear, heading to the road, or along the lake toward the maybe smoke/fog?