The conversation draws to a close. The Green Apple Inn is just down the road, recogniseable by the green paint decorating the facade and the numerous real apple trees surrounding.
The conversation draws to a close. The Green Apple Inn is just down the road, recogniseable by the green paint decorating the facade and the numerous real apple trees surrounding.
Ergrin tries to catch up with Mijanor and falls into step behind his more noble cousin on his way to the inn.
Vykos bids Bors farewell and dismounts from Reaper, leading him by the reins through the town to the Inn. Once there, he ties Reaper up and heads inside to the bar.
"Good day there barkeep. I wish to enquire about lodging and stabling for myself and my companions." He waves at the others as they come trudging through the door. "I don't know how long we'll be staying, but I do know that some of them will be more than interested in the ale that you have on offer." He turns and gives a weird smile and wink at the dwarves.
He looks around the room at the place. "A very homey establishment you have here. I believe we will be after 3-4 rooms. I myself will want one as will Alexi." He indicates Alexi. "My Dwarven compatriots may require seperate lodging, or they may share. I will let them decide. I'm sure that they will also require sustenance after our journey and so a menu of your food would be good as well." He turns to the other again. "Anything I've missed?"
The female dwarf standing behind the counter takes in Vykos' words before speaking.
"Aye lad, cha have the look o advenchurs about cha. I be knowin' cher ways better than churselves, I be 'spectin'. Have a seat o'er there," she points to a cozy booth in the corner, "and sommun' will be o'er with chur food. Roast chicken tonight, best thing we can do in these times. Wha'cha be drinkin'?" She smiles as she pulls out a large ledger, opening to the final few pages of the book. You note that it has been some months since there has been a guest. "Any name'll do, long as the face to match don't change."
The Green Apple is a tidy affair. Built of sturdy oak, the building appears to be about a century old, though the foundations suggest it has had predecessors. Outside is a hitching-post. Your mounts are the only animals using it.
The decor inside is functional but friendly; the hardwood floors are well-worn by heavy boots and sconces on the walls show ages of soot. Stairs on the north wall behind the bar lead up to the rooms. Heavy red curtains are open, along with the glass-paned windows, to provide a draft. The shade of the trees also provides some protection from the heat, but the interior is still warm.
The main room has four booths along the west wall. Along the east is a small stage, currently empty, and ten smaller tables. Aside from a serving boy and Tharrma there are only two other patrons: a young human in a uniform, and a grizzled old man with a dog sleeping at his feet. These men are seated at the open tables.
"Aye lad, cha have the look o advenchurs about cha. I be knowin' cher ways better than churselves, I be 'spectin'. Have a seat o'er there," she points to a cozy booth in the corner, "and sommun' will be o'er with chur food. Roast chicken tonight, best thing we can do in these times. Wha'cha be drinkin'?" She smiles as she pulls out a large ledger, opening to the final few pages of the book. You note that it has been some months since there has been a guest. "Any name'll do, long as the face to match don't change."
"Ah, lassy, chur a welcome sight if there ever was one! Mijanor of the clan Firehammer bringin the word o' Torag to the lands. May ye always find 'is blessins upon chur 'ouse. I'll be 'avin the best dwarven drink ye 'ave and twice the normal servin of chur roast chicken as I've built up an appetite from the dusty road and scorchin sun." He pulls himself up a sturdy stool to the bar so they don't have far to go. After seating himself with a few grunts of effort he asks, "What be causin ye worry that chur callin these hard times?"
Mijanor:
Tharrma gives you broad dwarven grin as you introduce yourself. You note that the bar is built to accomodate the height of a dwarf, and the stools to accomodate the girth. She's a pretty enough lass, a bit old for you perhaps, but she has a pleasant smile and a motherly face.
"Firehammer clan, eh? I be of the Ironclad meself. If cha be bringin' tha blessin's of Torag himself than cha be doubly welcome in these parts. Aside from this blasted heat killin' tha crops and tha beasties, we got these blasted hobbos ambushin' travellers of all sorts. We've no had word from outside for some weeks. Speaker Wiston's gettin' desperate. Even considered negotiatin' wit'em."
"Ergrin the Stonefist," says Ergrin introducing himself quietly. "Negotiating? With hobgoblins?"
Ergrin: "Tharrma Ironclad. Seems that centuries of mixing with tha humans doesn't give 'em any sense. Course cha might be able ta change his mind. He lives down the street."
She speaks curtly, looking at Mijanor frequently. After finishing, she pauses as if she wants to say more but does not continue.
If the "young human in uniform" is wearing a soldier's/guardsman's uniform, Alexei will offer to buy him a drink. If he's a mailman or livery boy or something, Alexei instead looks for a more promising dive -- maybe a more rowdy tavern frequented by soldiers. He wants a place with noise, gambling, and a chance to gather rumors and/or recruit a battle sorcerer. Pre-rolled check, depending on qhich applies:
Diplomacy to talk to young man, or Knowledge (local) to find rowdier tavern: Yet another low roll; 5+7=12.
Ergrin: "Tharrma Ironclad. Seems that centuries of mixing with tha humans doesn't give 'em any sense. Course cha might be able ta change his mind. He lives down the street."
She speaks curtly, looking at Mijanor frequently. After finishing, she pauses as if she wants to say more but does not continue.
Shaking his head in disbelief, "NEGOTIATIN WITH GOBBO'S! Human's always be seemin to want to take a simple matter and tangle it all up just ta be getting themselves killed in the end. The only thing gobbo's understand is a good solid blow ta the head. Or maybe that's what this Wiston needs to be knockin some sense into 'im." He grips his hammer on his belt. "I'll not be talkin to 'im on an empty stomach though and diregardin chur hospitality o'er it." He hefts his tankard taking a long draw from it and continues chatting with Tharrma. He will eventually ask her to show him one of her rooms so she has a chance to speak away from the common room.
Mijanor: Tharrma will be happy to show you to a room once all of your comrades have arrived and signed in as guests (those staying in the Inn). She arches an eyebrow, however, as if reading into your words.
Alexei: The young man does indeed appear to be a soldier. You are guessing the uniform, which matches that of Bors, is of the more experienced town guard and not the militia. He is wearing a longsword and a small wooden shield rests against the table leg.
He looks up as you approach, with a mouthful of chicken. He quickly takes in your uniform and jumps out of his seat, practically knocking it over in the process. He offers a salute (palm open with back of hand to forehead). He seems to be waiting for you to speak.
Doffing his hat with a flourish, Alexei returns the salute. "As you were! At ease, soldier. Or is it against regulations for an officer new in town to buy a fellow soldier a drink?"
What a suprise! Yet another natural 1!
Mijanor: Tharrma will be happy to show you to a room once all of your comrades have arrived and signed in as guests (those staying in the Inn). She arches an eyebrow, however, as if reading into your words.
As she arches her eyebrow at him Mijanor turns red, "I dinna mean.........I was thinkin ye wanted too......." He finds that he can't look her in the face and than even turns redder realizing where he's looking instead of her eyes. He quickly picks up his mug and takes a big draw from it and continues to examine the mug afterwards.
The guard seems to take note of the half-orc and halfling moving off into the woods.
"Not that I doubt yer abilities, but the woods are might bit dangerous lately, what with the hobbos and all. By your looks, and animal friends, ya wouldn't happen to be those of the Old Ways? Cause we have a grove across the bank, ya can probably camp out there with yer...umm...pets."
"Friend Augrok, the man has a point. Comfortable as we may be in the natural setting of the woods, if we're outnumbered tonight, we'll be in trouble. Perhaps it would be wiser to stay in their druid's grove yonder."
Mijanor: Tharrma will be happy to show you to a room once all of your comrades have arrived and signed in as guests (those staying in the Inn). She arches an eyebrow, however, as if reading into your words.As she arches her eyebrow at him Mijanor turns red, "I dinna mean.........I was thinkin ye wanted too......." He finds that he can't look her in the face and than even turns redder realizing where he's looking instead of her eyes. He quickly picks up his mug and takes a big draw from it and continues to examine the mug afterwards.
Ergrin listens and watches the discussion between Mijanor and Tharrma with little interest until realizing the implication of Mijanor's embarrassment.
He suddenly finds a buzzing fly to be of great interest and tries to catch it with his stubby fingers. Whistling nonchalantly and blushing furiously, he wanders off in pursuit of the fly. He accidentally elbows Mijanor in the back pushing him towards Tharrma as he leaves.
"Friend Augrok, the man has a point. Comfortable as we may be in the natural setting of the woods, if we're outnumbered tonight, we'll be in trouble. Perhaps it would be wiser to stay in their druid's grove yonder."
Pausing at the guard's explanation, Augrok is surprised to hear that they have a druid's grove, and returns to the soldier, looking at him evenly "You have a druid?"
Augrok: "We do an awful lot of logging and farming in these parts, wouldn't be right if'n the druids didn't give their blessing. If ya cross the ferry - there's a one silver piece charge per person or beast - ya can find Avarthel amongst the standing stones. He's a good fellow. Healed my little girl some years back."
In the middle of your conversations, the door to the Inn opens. The first entrant is a capable-looking swordswoman wearing the blue and green uniform of the town guard. After quickly scanning the room, noting Alexei, she stands to the side. Next is an older man, balding and about fifty years of age. He carries a cane and wears a large ceremonial amulet. He addresses the entire common room.
"Sorry to trouble you, Tharrma. Travelers, I'd like a few minutes of your time. My name is Norro Wiston, and I'm the Town Speaker for Macridi. This is our guard captain, Soranna. I'll get right to the point: We're in a lot of trouble, and you are going to help us out."
Vykos looks up from leaning against the wall and stares a little too long at the Speaker, before talking. "Greetings. I am Vykos Androsanya and these are my companions Alexi, Mijanor and Ergrin." He indicates each in turn. "If your trouble was a band of Hobgoblin Bandits then it is no more. They attacked us on the road and after a hard fought battle my companions dealt with them." He barely even glanced at Captain Sorrana when she was introduced.
"This is more than a band. Our entire town is under attack. Hobgoblin raiders have been harrying our lands for several weeks now. They've attacked and killed people in the outlying homesteads, and they've been waylaying travelers along the Dawn Way."
Captain Soranna inerjects.
"We've had some trouble with them before - what you would expect, a quick raid on homesteads on the West side of the river, usually not that bad - but this is different. It looks like a large, aggressive tribe has moved down out of the mountains. Frankly, I fear they might be numerous enough to sack the town. Once they strangle our supplies."
"Beyond the threat to our homes, the road is our lifeblood. If the hobgoblins make the Dawn Way impassable to the west, trade won't come this way and we'll be ruined. Not only do we need to repel the raiders from our town, but we've got to keep the road open. I have word that the Merchants have dispatched you to receive this assignment, so I expect your full cooperation."
"It appears that we will be travelling West then. We will spend the night here and provision in the morning. Is there anything else that you can tell us that may help our cause?"
"That would be fine. The town can offer support in a few ways.
Firstly is information. We suspect the hobgoblins number between fifty and one hundred strong. They move around in small warbands of about twenty. They also use fearful monsters and evil magic against us - we lost a dozen guardsmen trying to locate the hobgoblin lair.
Secondly, I am good friends with Avarthel. He is of the Old Ways and I can arrange for him to provide healing for you at one half the normal price.
Thirdly, I understand that you may be looking for aid from my men. I can dispatch a guard for you; if you like Bors can be put under your command.
Finally, as per the standard arrangement with the Merchants, the direct cost of your services is to be paid directly from the town coffers. If you succeed in driving off the hobgoblins the town is to pay you five-hundred gold pieces each."
Augrok: "We do an awful lot of logging and farming in these parts, wouldn't be right if'n the druids didn't give their blessing. If ya cross the ferry - there's a one silver piece charge per person or beast - ya can find Avarthel amongst the standing stones. He's a good fellow. Healed my little girl some years back."
Nodding in satisfaction, Augrok had not expected to have a druid in residence in this town. The even look on his face split into a broad grin before nudging Ur to follow him. "I will pay my respects." With those words, he simply followed his nose to the scent of water, walking through the city streets with Ur not a step behind. Once he reached the ferry, he took a look at the river, and the land beyond before paying two silver.
Before he stepped onto the ferry, he gave a look over his shoulder to Kin Lur, wondering if he and Fourthea were going to come along as well.
Thirdly, I understand that you may be looking for aid from my men. I can dispatch a guard for you; if you like Bors can be put under your command.
"Bors seems like a good man, one I'd be proud to serve with, but we also have solid men in my dwarven friends here. What we need is an arcanist trained in the war college; a battle-sorcerer, if you will. If we're to bring warfare against an army of hobgoblins -- who will almost certainly have war-sorcerers of their own -- then we need one as well. As a veteran, Captain Soranna, you are of course aware that any force with arcane battle-magic will always overcome any force without."
"Aside from that... some new mounts would be appreciated."
Diplomacy: 11+7=18. Wow! It actually rolled above 6! I don't believe it! Must be the name change. :)
Before he stepped onto the ferry, he gave a look over his shoulder to Kin Lur, wondering if he and Fourthea were going to come along as well.
Kin Lur follows the druid and his companion to the ferry. As he rides down the road, he scans the area for anything interesting or out of place.
Kin Lur: You scan the area. More noticeable details are first.
To your right is the large toll house, which matches the original architecture of the ruined stone bridge. It is quite large, and in the short time you are there you see about half a dozen guards and militia coming in and out. The doors are heavy oak reinforced with steel. Behind the building is a stone stair leading down a ten foot bank to a wooden pier where several small rowboats are docked.
The river itself is over five-hundred feet wide. The current is quite strong, and you note the guide-ropes are several inches thick. The ferry is operated by two large draft horses attached to a capstan. On your left about three quarters of the way across is a small island dotted with trees. Across the bank are three large buildings.
You can barely make out a clearing in the forest across the river. Several large stones stand above the treeline.
Augrok and Kin Lur: A middle-aged human with darkly tanned skin introduces himself as Drathgar, proudly announcing to you that he is the great-grandnephew of Drellin himself. He charges you the standard fare, and you note a penchant for referring to you both as "dirtfooters".
In the process of trying to stop himself Mijanor finds he has placed his hands inapproriately with Ergrin's help. Quickly flinching back and giving Ergrin a scowl, "I thought you monk types were supposed to be gracefu....." It suddenly dons on him that it was no accident and he quickly turns back to Tharmma, "Me apologies. I 'ave been direspectin churself and chur house....." The sudden interruption by Speaker Wiston is a welcome respite from the hole Mijanor has somehow found himself in with Tharrma. He is content to listen, recover himself, and let the others do the speaking.
" If you succeed in driving off the hobgoblins the town is to pay you five-hundred gold pieces each."
Ergrin does some quick mental calculations and has some unmonkish thoughts about bathtubs full of beer and chubby dwarven triplets.
"Aside from that... some new mounts would be appreciated."
"And ...," Ergrin mumbles uncomfortably, "And ... a map of this here township and hereby surrounding regions under protection lands and such ..." He trails off uncertainly.
By the river:
As we proceed down to the ferry, Kin Lur will share his observations with Augrok.
He'll pay particular attention to the island as they cross since he should be able to take closer looks at other interesting things later, but this will be his best chance at looking at the island.
Feel free to roll any necessary Perception or Knowledge rolls, good DM.
Ergrin: Soranna informs you that you can purchase a map from Jarret's Sundries.
Alexei: Horses can be rented or purchased from Delora's Livery Stable across the river.
Kin Lur:
Their appears to be nothing special about the small island. You suspect that if the water level was higher it would be mostly under water. The only animal life on the small island is a large flock of small birds.
Alexei grinds his teeth, struggling to restrain his temper. Granted, he knew his efforts at diplomacy would fail, but still. These people somehow expected him, with a small, untrained group, to fight off an army on their behalf, and they didn't even have the decency to provide mounts? I'm a soldier, he thinks, not a merchant. Where am I supposed to get enough money to buy five or so horses? And his request for a sorcerer -- met not with a polite apology, but totally and pointedly ignored. These people don't deserve saving -- let the goblins have them! But a soldier's life is fighting, so Alexei steels himself to the fact that the town has to be saved.
But for the first time, Alexei begins thinking about life after soldiering. If somehow he and his companions live through this and save the town, his thoughts begin flirting with the idea of killing the Speaker in a duel and taking over the town himself.
Bluff check to hide rage at Speaker = 19+7 = 26. Alexei's years of gambling have paid off; his poker face is good enough to fool almost anyone regarding the turn his thoughts have taken.
"Ahem. My apologies. I did not mean to neglect your request, merely to imply where you could procure a mount. Allow me to make it up to you. First, I believe Delora has a fine warhorse for which she has no buyers. I would be happy to pay for the horse for you. I will make the arrangements, and you may take the horse this afternoon.
And out of respect to the League and your compatriots, I will arrange a special exemption for you."
As a list is more functional, Wiston sums up the following:
These casters have specific inventory. Also, the town legend is updated.
Alexei is taken aback at the Speaker's ability to make a DC 26 Sense Motive check without batting an eyelash -- with that kind of skill, he hardly needs us, he thinks. Still, the offer of equippage is an excellent sign that these people aren't just sending the group in as "gobbo-fodder."
On the ferry:
Vyko pushes off from the wall and walks over to where Alexi and Norro are talking. He lays a hand on Alexi's shoulder and says to him, "why don't you head over to the stable and see to getting your mount. I can hammer out the details with the Speaker and then we can meet back here to go shopping for supplies. The dwarves," he nods his head in their direction "appear to be busy for the moment, so this is as good a time as any for you to take care of your business."
Alexei sees that he's being dismissed, and assumes Vykos has important things to discuss -- why else would they be protecting him? Still, he's unwilling to abandon his only lead in town. Jerking his head at the solder whose dinner he'd interrupted, Alexei says, "Attention! An escort to the stables, if you will."
Ergrin wanders off without saying anything, leaves the inn, and starts looking around for "Jarret's Sundries"
He asks any friendly looking passersby for directions and then says "Nice town you have here, isn't it?" and waits for their responses. He says little and just nods and listens to whatever they say.
After finishing off his ale and food, Mijanor shakes the embarrassment off now finding himself with Tharrma pretty much to himself, "If ye not be mindin showin me a room I be also interested in what else ye be 'avin to say about this towns current problems"
Alexei:
The young soldier snaps to attention, giving Soranna a sideways glance which she does not return. He leaves the food remaining on his plate and gathers his small pack and shield.
Ergrin:
The first person you encounter is a very young girl - at least at first you think so, until you realize she is actually a halfling lass. She is talkative, but says she is in a hurry to fetch something from the warehouse. She leads you down the road and points out Jarett's to your left.
Mijanor:
Tharrma leads you upstairs once you have signed in, chatting amicably all the way. "Well, tha town is on hard times all 'round. With tha drought we can barely farm, and loggin' is hard work in this heat. The river be flowin' low as well, which means we need ta use the roads. But then there's tha hobbos, cha know, who seem ta be takin' advantage of us. I 'spect they are feelin' tha heat as well. But cha arrived in good time, I be happy ta provide cha with rooms here for as long as cha need. At normal price, of course - I've got ta make a livin'."
All: The Green Apple charges 5sp a day. Those intending to stay at the grove will have to work out their own deal.
Alexei nods to the Speaker, bows and salutes Soranna with full military punctilio, and walks out into the evening, glad to be rid of the two, and looking forward to speaking with the young soldier.
"You can see how it is, Corporal," Alexei whispers, head down and barely moving his lips. "The hobgoblins mass while the townspeople dicker over the price of horseflesh. You and I are going to make a difference, though, and maybe save this place after all. Do you know a tavern where soldiers meet? Nothing polite; I mean a real fighting-man's hangout, with gambling and whiskey? If so, there are some people we need to meet."
Alexei adjusts his hat at a rakish angle and makes sure his weapons are loose in their scabbards. There might be a long night ahead, and he has a lot to do before he picks up a new horse in the morning.
The young man seems appreciative of your attention. {Sense Motive rolled} He bears some of the hesitation of Bors, but seems to be trying to overcome his fear of your profession.
"Well, the Apple used to get pretty busy at night. But most of us are busy with the raids and all. The only other place in town is across the Green from here. The Old Bridge. But Kellin runs the place to cater to rich merchants, I don't like him much."
He explains that the Green is the name for the large space in the centre of town.
These casters have specific inventory.
"Good Speaker. My friend has just lost his mount in an attack while on the road and I pray that you not be offended by his shortness. As you know, a Cavalryman's mount is like a mamber of his family."
"Pray tell is there anything else that you could tell me that may be of help in our mission? Any places in the area that could be used by the Hobgoblins as a base perhaps?"
"Also, is accommodationa and food included in your generous stipend concerning our purchases in the town?"
DM:
Ergin enters Jarret's and greets anyone he sees with a friendly smile. He will again comment "Nice town you have here" and then nod or listen to anything people say about it. If he doesn't get any interesting information, he'll get down to business and ask about a map of the area.
Vykos:
Ergrin: The shop has no customers this early in the day. Jarett Nurth is a large, friendly man. He wears the white typical of a respected merchant and follower of the Prophecies. He respects your quiet nature, responding to questions rather than prodding you. He is happy to provide a map of the town (5sp), the immediate area (2gp), or the entire Vale (10gp). Maps are available on paper (+0gp), cloth (+1gp), or leather (+5gp).
"Regretably, I cannot make deals with every merchant in town. Nor can the town afford to pay for everything you may need.
The hobgoblins seem to be concentrated in the Witchwood to the west. You can enter the wood by following the Dawn Way, or you could take the Witch Trail north through the swamp. Captain Soranna suspects their forces may be using Vraath Keep as a base, but it's supposed to be haunted so nobody is willing to investigate.
If you're going to be wandering around in the Witchwood, I would advise you to seek out Jorr Natherson. You can't find someone who knows the woods better. His cabin is out of the way, but it could be worth the walk. If you take the Witch Trail, go left at the first big trail crossing; Jorr's cabin is about seven miles in. Or, if you're on the Dawn Way, take a right on a trail about nine miles from the forest edge. Jorr's cabin is near the Blackwater."
Alexei spends the afternoon taking stock of the town's situation, making Knowledge (Warfare) checks like a madman and commenting with things like, "There, over by that storefront. You could block off the street with caltrops, and one guy with a longbow could prevent an army from getting into town that way. If you had the caltrops in a sack on the roof, the bowman could just drop the sack when enemies are spotted, before nocking his weapon," and "Can this stream from the pond be dammed quickly? If so, you could flood this part of town, making things difficult for attackers stuck in the mud." In short, I want to leave this guy with as many tactical suggestions as humanly possible. The hobgoblins aren't stupid, and I'm assuming they'll attack the town when we're off dealing with a token force somewhere else.