Upon your arrival at the home, Redfang bids you rest and fixes up a quick meal and several mugs of local brew. He pauses a moment and says, "There's something I'd like to give you before we retire for the evening."
He departs to his room and returns a few moments later with a bundle of cloth. He unwraps it to show a long, thick shawl coated on the inside with a cool muslin, while the outside is decorated with a flame-like rune. He offers it to Razorend.
"I'm honored that you accompanied me on a personally difficult journey and am amazed at your ability. Please take this as a token of my gratitude and as a symbol to the town that you are welcome as a friend. I'm assuming the rest of your group is equally talented and I'm certain I can convince the Ealderman to see you in the morning."
Hearth Mantle:
Slot: neck
Hearth mantles are favored by the faithful of Erastil, particularly those among his worshipers who rely upon the hunt for their livelihood. With a hearth mantle, one never has to worry about building a campfire in the wild.
A hearth mantle’s wearer gains a +2 competence bonus on saving throws against fire-based effects; the mantle itself is immune to fire damage. Once per day, the wearer can cause the leather exterior of the mantle to smolder for 1 minute. While smoldering, the hearth mantle sheds light as a torch. If the user takes a full-round action to carefully spread a hearth mantle on the ground with its exterior facing up, a campfire ignites on the mantle’s fire rune. This campfire burns for 8 hours and requires no fuel. Any creature that sleeps within 20 feet of the mantle for the full duration of the campfire recovers a number of hit points equal to twice its character level, as if it had undergone complete bed rest for a full 24 hours. The campfire is automatically extinguished if the hearth mantle is picked up, but can also be extinguished through normal means.
You each receive 650xp for solving the Mystery of Jevik
"Yet we're the ones accused of being suspicious ..." Redfang sighs, moving forward with you all to inspect the blood stains.
In addition to the blood, deep furrows and clawed tracks the size of a large shield mar the ground.
Survival DC11:
Even though the tracks are about 3 days old, these massive furrows are easy to follow. They lead into the orchard behind the farmhouse. (Indicated on the map)
Survival:1d20 + 12 ⇒ (13) + 12 = 25
Redfang grunts, "Tracks lead that way ..." he indicates the northeast toward the orchard, "Three days ago, thing is huge, whatever it is. Not looking good for Jevik."
"Leading you off by my lonesome away from the town where everyone would come to my aid in a moment? No, that wouldn't be the best trap to set. This is at it seems. I am worried about Jevik and needed help that I couldn't source from within Iadenveigh. Seems I was right. Let us pray to Old Deadeye that the irascible farmer is OK."
"I suspected, but since the man cries wolf so much, no one in town would come with me. Outsiders like yourselves, trying to get in good with the town for some reason, and sporting an android trying not to draw attention to himself? Seemed like the perfect chance to kill two birds with one stone."
Redfang watches as Ridic shuffles forward, eagerly anticipating the results of his search, and nocking an arrow in the mean time, his eyes scanning the orchard line.
After a few minutes, Redfang returns with a bow in hand wearing a fine chain mesh shirt, a green cloak and a large well-used battle axe strapped across his back.
"The farm lies on the north edge of town, fits well with the man’s sour nature."
"Jevik," Redfang notes, "Is something of a godless misanthrope who never really got along well with Iadenveigh’s locals, and so never felt comfortable living within the city’s walls. Our hunters generally keep the hinterlands relatively safe,"
Redfang pauses to reflect then continues, "Strange beasts and mutated animals are very much a danger, though."
Sense Motive DC13:
He leaves unspoken that he believes a monster may well have been preying upon Jevik’s farm of late.
Redfang puts down the axe and towels off, sharing with you information on the tasks as he shows you where to bunk and the key features of the hall, a fairly basic long barracks with a bar and a single privy.
"Ya gotta haul up your own water. Recommend you use the water sources to the north and west like the rest of town. Longbitter and Badwater didn't get their names for being refreshing and invigorating places to drink or bathe," he grimaces broadly for effect and you realize he's indicating his strangely discolored teeth.
"The first problem is with Jevik. Jevik’s farm lies on the north edge of town, a location that fits well with the man’s sour nature. Jevik has few friends here in Iadenveigh. His surliness stems from a hard life filled with misfortune, so its hard to blame the man. That said, his complaints about monsters, mutants, bandits, and metal men interfering with his farming are something of a local joke, but these latest complaints to the Deadeye Council seem different to me. More plausible, if only because Jevik seemed unusually sober when he spoke to us 5 days ago."
"For the second problem, you'll need to talk with the Ealdorman, Ivik Gunnett. I can take you for an invite after we check out Jevik's farm or you can head over there yourself if you're itching to know more now."
He looks to say something to Urgeon's vague statement, but changes his mind, "You can stay here, at High Home, with me. But if you want more help than that, especially with your artifact search ... you got to understand, it has always been hard for us to extend trust to outlanders. We are a self-sufficient settlement—we have no need for trade, and can take care of ourselves. It’s the safest option, as I know you understand. It’s difficult to tell who you can rely on, but there are two things you could do to earn the trust of the Deadeye Council, those folks who run this place. First, I need some help in solving a problem with one of our more... colorful residents. Second, there’s an issue with a possible traitor in our midst that I've been struggling with how to handle. It is fortuitous that you are, since outsiders would be particularly well suited to intervene.”
He thumbs his hand over his shoulder, "Either way, you're welcome to throw your stuff inside and take any available bunk. No one else staying here at the moment."
Winded once near the top you find the door to the building open and a red-haired man outside gripping a woodcutter's axe he is about to use to split a log. From the pile next to him, he's been at it a while. He looks at you and smiles grimly, baring bright red crimson teeth ... a startling discrepancy in an otherwise near perfect human specimen.
His eyes are brown and warm, but lined with deep crow’s feet, although he appears to barely be thirty. He’s a gruff, barrel-chested man with shoulder-length red hair, a bushy red beard, and well-muscled arms that end in large, calloused hands.
He stops swinging the axe and lets it fall to his side, his hands clenching unconsciously at the shaft.
"Well met, travelers. What brings you to High Home this day?"
