Darkmoon Vale is a region in northwest Andoran. It's northern border is made up by Droskar's Crag on the northwestern edge, and continues with the Five King's mountain range extending eastword. Just south of these mountain is Darkmoon Wood, which make up the northern part of the Vale. This region thrives on it's supply of lumber, especially of the Darkwood type, and the Lumber Consortium's main camp lies on the southern edge of the Woods. Wolves and werewolves are common in the region of Darkmoon Vale, and dark fey are known to prey on lumberers and residents.
The depressed town of Falcon's Hollow is several miles south of the Woods, settled on the northern bank of the River Foam,which runs from northwest, just south of Droskar's Crag, all the way to the east of the Vale. Here in Falcon's Hollow, the Lumber Consortium owns every residence and building, and the people living in the town pay high taxes to live and do business. The town is run by the cruel Thuldrin Kreed, the gavel (local leader) of the Lumber Consotium, his number one enforcer, Payden "Pay Day" Teedum, and a handful of other thugs. Sheriff Daeldrin Baleson and his group of deputies stand in opposition to Kreed.
Arthell Forest sits on the southwest corner of Darkmoon Vale. The large merchant town of Olfden is just to the east of Arthell Forest, while Piren's Bluff is on it's west. A Pathfinder Society base of operations is run in Olfden by Luna Aldred.
Wolfrun Hills is a distance east of Falcon's Hollow, making up the eastern border of Darkmoon Vale.
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Perched at the edge of civilized lands, the small town of Falcon's Hollow as always had to rely on itself to solve its problems. Meanwhile, the uncaring lumber barons squeeze the commonfold for every last copper, deaf to their pleas. Now the hacking coughs are heard throughout town. Te plague has come to Falcon's Hollow and the town's leaders can't be bothered to stop it.
The plague is has become known as 'blackscour taint'. Lady Cirthana of Iomedae is the only cleric in town who's shown any interest in stopping the plague, and she's been unable to cure the disease. Most townsfolk have looked to the local herbalist Laurel for aid, and it's her shop that the adventurers have been directed to.
Creeping ivy and full window boxes cover the facade of the rugged-looking, two-story shop bearing the faded sign, "Roots and Remedies." A line of twenty-some somber townsfolk - some with pale, wheezing children, others seeming to be precipitously near tears - stretches from the open door.
...
Armoured and his axe and shield strapped to his back, as always, Dirk stands patiently in line, despite what the rest of his new aquaintances are doing. As he feels genuine concern and feels that they hve a right to be seen as much as any, and if this Laurel has the ability to help, then why is he, a perfectly healthy Dwarvish lad, entitled to entry before others.
"Bloody 'ell, there's nae an end in sight to this blasted line. Oh well, nothin' else to do today anyway."
Sitting on the hill across the road from Roots and Remedies, Torillan stares somberly at the assembled line of people.
"Just like back home", he thinks to himself. He watches as others pass by the shop without even a glance at the miserable throng lined up, hoping for a cure to the Taint.
"You'll be next, you miserable bastard.." he mutters under his breath to a Consortium thug hurrying past the shop.
Standing up, he then notices Dirk standing in line. He gathers up his shield and sword, slinging both upon his back. Sighing deeply, he walks over to the line of unfortunates, unsure of how Laurel can help everyone...
Deelin finds himself standing in line behind a patient dwarf and day dreaming about the days events...........
A picture appears in his mind of the taproom of the Sitting Duck, he sees himself down a few pints to wash away the teedium of the days lessons and to get out of the house before his da came home.
Deelin was interested to meet the dwarven traveller who called himself Dirk. For as long as he could remember he had wanted to travel and get away from the oppressive atmosphere of the Hollow. And when this fine fellow mentioned how he'd witnessed the taint it was Deelin that suggested going to Laurels place. He'd dealt with her before, fetching roots, berries and other plants that grow in the wilds in the vale.
Aulistriana, his one true love, always helped him find such things all the while teaching him about nature and these thoughts lead to others as he stares of into the distance in a daze.........
The line moves forward one place and Deelin is shaken awake by the man behind. Bloody lumber son, he hisses at Deelin while stifling a cough, You got no right ta be standin in line with us decent folk, go an see what yer boss can do fer ya. Deelin looks sheepishly around and steps up behind the Dwarf mumbling an apology.
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The first knock came upon Binjion's sturdy oak door nearly a week ago. A worried-sick mother with a pair of children in tow. The mother, simply proclaiming that her children were horribly ill, thrusts her charges into my study without a chance for objection. Upon close examination of the both, it was determined that they both possessed a hacking cough combined with cracked dry lips and a tongues as black as coal.
He handed the oldest a white kerchief and instructed that he cough into it as hard as willingly able. Binjion then removed the cloth from the lad and inspected it carefully. His face instinctively twisted into a look of revolt as he gazes into the cloth. He then takes the mother quietly aside and shows her the small dark droplets of congealed blood he has discovered. "It's in their lungs Ma'am. I'm sorry to say they don't have long. See these spots indicate that whatever illness has them it is slowly eating the lungs." he says morosely, "I'm sorry, there's little to do besides give them lots of rest and pray to what gods you hold dear."
This however, was not the last time that week a terrified mother would arrive on Binjion's doorstep coal tongued children in tow. After the fourth visit in a week Binjion, convinced that a full scale epidemic is looming over Falcon's Hollow, and decides that he needs assistance in pinning down the exact cause of the malady so that a cure may be contrived.
Now, Binjion has gotten to know Laurel the herbalist well over the years. It has been her quality herbal preparations that Binjion has relied on to cure any matter of ailments besieging the people of Falcon's Hollow over the past 20 years and it is to her that he now seeks council.
Arriving at Roots & Remedies and expecting the little yellow front door to be abandoned as always, Binjion is stunned to witness a gigantic line of people stretching back well down the street. It would seem that I am not the only one concerned this day. Perhaps the sickness is already further spread than I imagined, Binjion thinks worriedly to himself as he takes his place in line behind a group of millwrights grumbling about a lumber baron's son somewhere ahead in line.
After her meeting with Sheriff Daeldrin Baleson about the lumber consortium, Dorsera makes her way to “Roots and Remedies”, the shop where Baleson had recommended she start her search.
As she makes her way around the low market she spots the continuously growing line coming from the shop. ”Looks like most of us have already made it here.” Dorsera mumbles. Recognizing a few of the faces she was acquinted with for finding the cure she steps to the side of the line and speaking loudly. ”A few good men and I have been given the mission of finding a cure for this taint. I vow we will return with what you seek. May Milani's grace be with you.” After announcing this to the crowd, Dorsera walks to the front of the line and enters the shop.
Diplomacy
Lacore had parted with his fellow performers in Olfden, travelling north towards Falcon's Hollow. His friends were heading east, but an oppressed town like this was too tempting for the illusionist to pass up. He packed his gear and started the trek towards the Darkmoon Wood.
He'd heard a lot of stories about the local lumber consortium and their leader, Thuldrin Kreed, before even setting foot in the sad town. When he arrived though, the situation was a little bleaker than he had anticipated. Sick people were just wandering around town hopelessly. He knows common folk and he knows you can’t entertain a sick or hungry man. Something substantial had to be done about this “taint” before any fun could be had.
After meeting up with a group of likeminded individuals, he decided to join them in visiting the local herbalist for some information on this disease.
Roots and Remedies, he says, this looks very unpromising.
After watching Dorsera address the crowd, he felt comfortable that they would not prevent the group from entering.
We will not rest until your children are full of life!, he shoots out to the crowd, while briskly tailgating the cleric into the shop.
"No one ever told me the handle required repair," he murmured quietly to himself aloud, alone in the shop with his restoratives and mixtures.
"Frequent or rare traveller alike - not one bother to speak of it to me. How dare they."
In mid-rant, the half-elf's dull gray eyes caught glimpse of a wax-sealed note thrust under the door and pinned by his boot. With his head staring down, coarse black hair falling over his thinning face, Daegan retreated a step and lurched over, extending his boney fingers from around the opposite arm towards the parchment. Squinting at the natural light spilling over him through the sagging glass of a decrepit window pane, Daegan tore at the wax with an expert thumb - a sign of strength from his wiry, withered frame.
The note, appearing at a distance to be written (in a hurry) in Common, was crumpled when the half-elf finished it. With a half-sneer in disbelief, Daegan dashed to his wares and began to mentally inventory his belongings stacked on the shelves. His boney fingers began reaching for bottles, vials, ointments, wax preserves, and all other assorted portions from his stock. Looking over his shoulder, the half-elf secured some note-scribbled papers and dragged them into the pile he had accumulated, the loose sheets scattering like leaves floating in a fall breeze. Daegan himself moved with a fervor, so much so that his wiry frame seemed to blur with the urgency of his speed.
With a loud *KaThunk* Daegan's shop door closed behind him. He was dressed in his artisan's attire, wrapped in a charcoal-gray surcoat. An unappealing and out-of-season scarf had been wrapped around his neck, stuffed into his jacket which gave Daegan the image of a man-sized rooster - the inclusion of a faded fedora hat completing the ensamble. Brandishing a rapier on his left hip, Daegan slung a brown, leather satchel over his shoulder, the contents of which clinked and tinkled from the sudden movement; even the papers crammed inside failed to muffle the rattling overheard.
As Daegan approached the Roots and Remedies, he caught glimpse of the line forming outside the herbalist's door. Wary of catching an airborn contagion, Daegan reached for his scarf with his right hand, thrusting it - and the crumpled note he found - into his face, guarding his breath. As he neared the front of the line, he maintained at modest distance and motioned with his free hand for admittance.
"Clear the way," his voice cracked and boomed, startling a few onlookers... and even himself.
"I am here by request - not out of necessity. Let me pass."
Daegan's voice was stern and authoritative, but devoid of typical social pleasantries - including courtesy. Anyone that could see or hear him knew that he had neither the will nor the strength to back his words; he seems non-confrontational.
As Dorsera, Lacore, and Daegan try to make their way past the line, they're greeted with hostility thos in line. Several of the customers-in-waiting actually move to block to their entry into the shop. "Who the hell are you?" someone yells out. One man in particular, steps away from his sickly child and gets in Dorsera's face and spits out, "I don't know who you are lady, but we were here in line before you. I suggest you wait your turn before you regret it."
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Binjion looks on to the rising commotion and raises his eyebrows as the slightest of smiles purses his lips. The impatience of youth has no limits, he thinks smugly to himself.
"All of the good citizens of Falcon's Hollow deserve to see Laural this day!" he calls back in line towards the bustle near the rear of the line. "Besides I think you will catch far more flies with honey than vinegar. Why not explain to your brethren why it is that you must see the healer before them. Perhaps some will let you pass. Or, you could use the patience the Gods gave you and wait your turn. All will see Laurel before the day is out and all have an important reason to be here. So, my fellow countrymen, shall we here what these eager newcomers have to say?"
"At any rate, I applaud the bravery of my countrymen! It has been said that the sickness spreads the fastest in crowds. Those of us that stand here today shall certainly fall prey to it's dire ills. A short time among many people is no worry, but an afternoon pressed against your countryman is sure to find one ill," adds Binjion in his gravest voice. Bluff Check: (1d20+2=8)
Giving the man and his children a look of compassion, Dorsera speaks unwaveringly. "My compatriots and I have no time for lines, we have been given a task to find you a true cure and not a mask for your symptoms. We were told Laurel may know the best places to find the ingredients. We wish no ill will towards you, we are only here to help." Dorsera places her hand on the man's shoulder "Please sir."
After almost walking into Dorsera, Lacore tries to hide his frustration with the crowd, I can understand your desperation, but Laurel isn't going anywhere. We don't require any healing, so the quicker we can talk to the herbalist, the quicker we can find your cure.
He looks at the mob, waiting for a response.
Deelin shifts uncomfortably then starts speaking uncertainly ...i.....I would be willing to help guide you on your search. Slowly growing in confidence he continues, I have worked for Laurel before and know her regular requirements. Maybe it would be best for all our sakes if Laurel can send these people to find ingredients for a cure.
With that he steps out of line addressing Dorsera, Lacore and Daegan. My name is Deelin and I will help you if I can.
Daegan's eyes cast accusing glances at the growling crowd, his efforts to break through the line and into the house now folly. The accusation befalling Dorsea alerts him to the situation, and Daegan retreats, yielding to her reply. Lacore's presence is a welcomed one -- especially after his declaration of not requiring aid from the herbalist, but having aid for her.
Finding confidence once the crowd settled their voices, and the others had spoken their piece, Daegan adjusted the satchel weighing down on his shoulder, his boney fingers gripping the leather strap tightly, whitening his knuckles. Daegan's other hand came down from holding his scarf to his mouth, revealing the parchment with the broken wax seal.
There was a hint of resentment in his voice as he addressed the crowd once more.
"Miss Laurel has been asking for any aid that can be offered from anyone that might be able to shed light on the sickness plaguing our town. I am answering the Summons."
As his gaze softened, it fell on Dorsea and Lacore (and now Deelin), and examined the line for further confrontation. Daegan arched his back to modify his slouching posture before continuing.
"The longer you delay us, the longer you will be waiting to die. Now, let us pass."
"...Please."
Dirk stood flabberghasted at the gal of these people, but despite it all, they were right.
"Well, Torallin, looks like we'll be first in today," Dirk yells to the small throng of people standing at the front of the line "You lot, at the front, methinks that i should be followin' you into the shop, although it still donnae feel right."
knowing he has no social skills, Dirk tries to get his way to the front of the crowd.
The man confronting Dorsera frown's angrily at the cleric for several moments, then takes a step back. The others blocking entry into the Laurel's shop move out of the way as well, but continue to stare down the line jumpers. A coughing patron leaves just as the adventurers move into the shop, while outside they can here booing and jeering from the waiting patrons. Someone cries out to them, "I hope you trip and fall on something poisonous!"
The smell of burnt earth and spicy incense choke the air of the cramped, mud-tracked shop. Bunches of dried herbs hang from the ceiling, along with dangling pots, presses, alchemical apparatuses, and glassware of more arcane purposes. Pouches of rare plants, jars of colored glass, and all manner of dried, preserved, and jellied animal parts fill high shelves and tables doing double duty as displays and workspaces. In the shop's rear a rail-thin woman with severe-looking spectacles and hair pulled back tightly busies herself between an overpacked rack of herbs, a table covered in stray powders and measuring equipment, and a pot loudly bubbling over with thick gray froth. Over the din of her work and without looking up, the woman impatiently shouts, "And what's your problem?"
"We have no problem Laurel." Dorsera replies quickly. "We were sent to you in regards to the "taint". We have been commissioned to find a cure." Seeing how high strung Laurel is, Dorsera offers her a seat. "Take a short break, you look like you are at wits end."
Dirk stood flabberghasted at the gal of these people, but despite it all, they were right.
"Well, Torallin, looks like we'll be first in today," Dirk yells to the small throng of people standing at the front of the line "You lot, at the front, methinks that i should be followin' you into the shop, although it still donnae feel right."
Torillan smiles. Shaking his head slightly, he says "Aye...but perhaps we should ask nicely....".
Daegan rushes indoors, attempting to escape the sunlight as if he were burning from it. His movement is hurried, but not so impolite to wait for those in his path to move out of the way.
Once inside, he scours for an open surface to display his wares. As he searches, he stumbles upon Laurel's notes and alchemical tools -- and stops long enough to look upon the haggard woman with an inquiring stare.
"You've some interesting materials here in your shop, not to mention formulae that I had no awareness of. ...Is there someplace where I can display my works? To compare notes?"
"...commissioned to find a cure?" Laurel responds half-mockingly. "Well, good luck with that! So, are you here to buy something?" she asks Dorsera.
To Daegan: "I don't need you displaying your wares in my place of business...or are you looking for a job?"
With all the activity in the shop the illusionist doesn't know where to focus his attention. As Daegan displays his works he does a double take, surprised by the man's actions.
Lacore turns to Laurel and quickly interjects, I'm not sure about the rest of the group, but I don't think we are here to buy anything, or waste anyone's time. If you know nothing that can help us then we will let you be, but if you do know of something we can look into, then please enlighten us.
He quickly looks over his shoulder at the crowd outside, measuring their patience and attitude, and then turns back to the herbalist.
Beginning to feel a little frustrated, Dorsera looks at Lacore and mumbles. "Thanks." Turning back to Laurel "I know these a hard times, but we are trying to make it better for all. If you have any information or know of anyone else in the area that might, I beg of you to let us do what was asked of us."
Diplomacy
Mistress Laurel, it is I Deelin, and these good people have been sent to you by Sheriff Daleson in hopes that you may have some kind of remedy or at least some clue as to how we can stop the spread of this disease. Deelin says as he steps before Laurel confident that she will remember the many times he has brought berries and herbs from the forest at her request.
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Binjion enters the small shop making hardly a noise save for the door closing behind him. He waits for the others to finish speaking with arms crossed a look of dour consternation upon his face. He is a bit mystified by the presence of Laurels current guests and is simultaneously uncomfortable from all the people crammed into such a small space.
As the rest finish, Binjion clears his throat to gain laurel's attention. "I beg your pardon Miss, but I bring grave news that cannot wait. I have evidence that the sickness that has begun within Falcon's Hollow proper scant days ago has already spread to the countryside. Just this morn did three mothers bring there young to my door, tongues as black as pitch. From what I've seen it is the very young and very old that are at most danger, yet if we do not take action to keep this malady in check, I fear that it will spread to the healthy and strong of back as well. I shudder to imagine the greater impact if this were to reach the lumber camps..." he continues the color draining from his face. "I for one, will not sit idly by while this disease claims our future. If you have no suggestions, I will bother you no more and move on, but I know you to possess as much knowledge on this subject as I do. In the least I beg for a path on which to begin to quest for a cure."
Laurel speaks out to the group crowding her shop. "I'm already aware of the plague that curses Falcon's Hollow and need not be informed of such. If I had a remedy, the town wouldn't have need to worry about this outbreak, and if you really want to help, then please, go out and find a cure." The herbalist waves off everyone. "If you will, there are those suffering who need treatment, and you holding me and them up."
Almost immediately after dismissing the group, Laurel yells out, "Wait!" She beckons the party back to her. "Wait a minute! Actually, there is something I could use help with." Laurel waits to see if she has everyone's attention. "There's a recipe I've yet to try because I don't have the ingredients. Perhaps you can gather them for me."
Almost immediately after dismissing the group, Laurel yells out, "Wait!" She beckons the party back to her. "Wait a minute! Actually, there is something I could use help with." Laurel waits to see if she has everyone's attention. "There's a recipe I've yet to try because I don't have the ingredients. Perhaps you can gather them for me."
"We are at your service Laurel. Make us a list with possible locations and we will gather them as fast as possible." Dorsera replies to Laurel's request with a smile on her face.
Almost immediately after dismissing the group, Laurel yells out, "Wait!" She beckons the party back to her. "Wait a minute! Actually, there is something I could use help with." Laurel waits to see if she has everyone's attention. "There's a recipe I've yet to try because I don't have the ingredients. Perhaps you can gather them for me."
"Well, I'm in no way an expert at scrounging, but if I can help, I will...My sword is yours", Torillan says, looking at the others around him.
"well I cannae cure diseases, but findin' stuff that might cure disease, that I can do!"
Dirk shifts his weight to his left foot.
"I'm definately your Dwarf then! Where do we go, and when do we set out?"
Eagerness obviouslty showing in Dirks dark eyes, he shuffles from foot to foot, as in anticipation of a heroic quest.
Daegan returns the woman's formula to where he found them, meticulously. He seemed to have a fondness for the methods of organizations of others.
At the request to retrieve ingredients, Daegan began to sift through his satchel with is left hand, glass and metal tinkling from the movement.
Eventually he produced his scrollcase which popped open almost immediately, revealing rolled up sheets of parchment; in the following moments, his ink vial and a pair of quills came fluttering out the satchel as Daegan set about preparing to inscribe the list of materials.
Almost immediately after dismissing the group, Laurel yells out, "Wait!" She beckons the party back to her. "Wait a minute! Actually, there is something I could use help with." Laurel waits to see if she has everyone's attention. "There's a recipe I've yet to try because I don't have the ingredients. Perhaps you can gather them for me.""Well, I'm in no way an expert at scrounging, but if I can help, I will...My sword is yours", Torillan says, looking at the others around him.
Had I a sword I would say the same. In any case, I am also anxious to find these ingredients, he says, after listening to the others speak. A little bushbrushing never hurt anyone! Lacore looks intently at the herbalists face, waiting for the recipe.
"My grandmother's book has a brew in it that says it's good for this kind of thing. A weird concoction that sounds more like hoojoo than real medicine.
"The ingredients are some rare roots and concentrations, most of which I have here, but there's three I don't: elderwood moss, which I've never heard of, but granny says the stuff only grows on the oldest tree in a forest; a specially pickled root called rat's tail, again sounds like hoojoo to me; and seven ironbloom mushrooms, stunty little things that only grow in dark places thick with metal, a favorite among dwarves, or so I hear.
"For the elderwood moss, there's gotta be an oldest tree in the vale. Damned if I know where it is, though.
"The rat's tail and mushrooms are even longer shots. way nort, toward the mountains, people say there used to live a bunch of dwarves. They're not there anymore, but I'd bet their forges are. If you can find ironbloom anywhere around here, that'd be your best bet.
"As for the rat's tail, who knows? Well, actually, Ulizmila, the witch that lives deep in the woods might. She's a crafty, mean thing that knows al sorts of strangeness. She might even have one. I don't know what she might want for it, but I doubt it'd come cheap. My grandmother traded her sight to the old crone for a few pages of what she knew, and that was years and years back, and I don't know a soul who got any nicer as they god older."
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Binjion nods as Laurel speaks, a look of dour consternation upon his face.
"Your grandmother's recipe may be less hoojoo than you think. Although, like you, I have never heard of elderwood moss, I have read that rat's tail root and ironbloom mushrooms were used by dwarven healers to cure black pox, an ancient disease that has not raised it's ugly head in our lifetime," he notes tilting his head just so as if trying to remember something from long ago. "It is said that rat's tail alone is poisonous, but the fragments of dwarven text I have read indicate that when combined with the mushrooms it transforms the poison into a substance that coaxes the body to heal itself," he continues while rubbing his hands of some imaginary grime on the front of his smock. "Perhaps the elderwood moss enhances this effect? I agree with you that it is a scant chance for a cure, but what choice do we really have? If these young folk plan to journey into the wilds, I will accompany them. It will help to have a set of eyes that knows what they're looking for," he finishes with a resigned nod and a grim look.
"It appears we have everything covered. By Milani's grace we were granted such informed and prepared friends." Dorsera comments looking at Daegan quickly scribe the list and listening to Binjion's knowledge of the ingredients and their past use.
"We may need a rough map. Laurel, do you know anyone who may quickly sketch one of the known area?"
"I fear if we take to long, we will lose more lives. We must make haste."
I have travelled the area extensively and should be able to give you a rough map if you have something to sketch it on says Deelin stepping forward.
"If you need help finding those locations, I suggest you visit Milon Rhodam. He's the most experienced woodsman I know. He should be at the Lumber Consortium camp, now."
With a slight bow to Laurel, "Thank you, we shall meet with Milon Rhodam. Do you know where we can find him?"
"If you take the road going north outside the town, then follow it northeast until you get to the edge of the Woods, you'll end up at the lumber camp."
"Thank you, Laurel"
Lacore walks to the shop's door and looks back at the group, Lets not waste anymore of her time. Let's move, he then waits to see if everyone is in agreement.
"Lacore is right, to the lumber camp." Dorsera follows after Lacore until he turns around at the door, she then sidesteps him and exits.
"Aye, let's go...", says Torillan. He proceeds out the door to wait outside for the rest of the group.
Daegan finished writing down what he had learned, and tucked his notes into his satchel. He glanced sharply at everyone who was interested in partaking of the quest, and fussed with the strap over his shoulder while addressing them.
"While many of you don't know me, I am intersted in joining you. I might not be very useful in your endeavors, but what threatens Falcon's Hollow is also a threat to me. While I am healthy, I will provide what aide I can."
"I'd like to trade these for some approrpiate containers to store the ingredients in. These are not rare, nor are they curing... but they might help stifle the symptoms of the illness."
Unfortunately, I haven't seen any of these locations in my wanderings but I too think Milon will have a surer idea. Deelin says as he makes his way out the shop in step with the rest of the group.
"Alrighty, time to head out People!"
Dirk starts moving confidently toward the door of the shop, stopping only inches from the doorway.
"Where are we goin' again, I'm confused...oh well, you guys can lead, I'll just follow!"
Dirk follows the rest of the group out of the shop and onto his first real quest.
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Binjion nods in agreement. "It is true, Sai Rhodam knows the wilds about the hollow like no other. I care deeply for the health and well being of Falcon's Hollow and can not sit idly by whilst it is stripped away. My bones may have seen younger days, but I wish to accompany you if you'll have me. I am a competent healer and a learned scholar. And, alas, if we should perish at our task there is none better in this community to ensure that you reach the Boneyard safely," intones the priest grimly.
"Now if we will be going, I wish to stop at my farmstead to recover my old adventuring gear. It has not been used in many a year, but is well preserved. My stead is just out of town and just so happens to be on the way to the Lumber Camp where Sai Rhodam dwells."
Daegan: Laurel looks at you briefly and takes the containers from you, producing three empty, wide-mouthed glass vials with caps, and handing them to you in return.
...
The road out of Falcon's Hollow takes a sharp turn toward east-northeast, and after the party has gathered whatever belonging they're bringing, it takes a full six hours to reach their destination.
The Lumber Consortium Camp cuts an ugly scar into a dense stand of proud darkwood trees. Five sturdy-looking log houses - seemingly a bunkhouse, meal hall, office, barn, and smithy - stand with numerous wide carts and sleds amid the sawdust-covered clearing.
A band of eight surly loggers meets the party at the edge of the camp. One of them callously demands, "What's your business here?"
"We must speak with Milon Rhodam. We were told he could be found here." Dorsera answers commandingly, knowing these are some of the men the sheriff met with her about.
The walk was a bit harder than the one to the Hollow, but getting out of that dreary town has lifted Lacore's mood. Standing to the side now, Lacore listens to the exchange between Dorsera and the loggers. They had better be a bit friendlier than that, he thinks.
The gruff woodcutter responds Dorsera. "Yeah, okay, you can see him when he leaves. You gotta go, now," he states flatly, pointing the adventurers back toward the road.
Excited about being on his first quest ever, Dirk, in a happy mood, strikes up a tune , his performance is probably not the best the party has ever heard, but what he lacks in skill, Dirk compensates with gusto and enthusiasm.
Not having any trouble with the walking, Dirk walks and sings confidently.
Arriving finally at the Lumber Consortium Camp, Dirk sees the band of surly looking people and stops with the rest of the party.
"Aye, the lass is right, we're here to see a Malon someone-or-rather, eh, im ne'er any good at remembrin' names."
Heraing the response of "you gotta go now" causes Dirk to get a little upset, Dirk get sangry and decides that enough is enough, if these people want to stand in his way, then they are going to learn the hard way that Dirk is not a passive man.
"Now listen here, i am on a mission to save lives, if you wanna get in the way, then so be it, but remember, we dwarves aren't known for our shining personalities, now are you gonna show us to this Malius or whate'er 'is name is or what?"