"Couple'a nights back," the kennel keeper replies with a thick puff of smoke. "An' as fer who took 'em, I got me guesses: bandits, goblins, or orcs most likely. Yer welcome t' have a look 'round out back if'n ye think ye can pick up any signs, kin see th' place they broke through th' fence, ain't got it fixed yet. Tha's what I been keepin' me time with, ain't too much likin' the idea o' holes in me fence."
Anybody been hangin round suspiciously that you noticed? Gunnar and I will take a look-see starting with that hole in the fence and see if we can pick any signs.
Perception Check: around the hole in the fence.
(This being a perception check, I'll let the DM roll for me.)
The young man accepts his host's offering graciously and tamps down the pipeweed with a certain lack of experience. He's made of stern stuff, so the first exposure to smoking goes better than it might. It certainly is a relaxing pastime with it's precise rituals of measuring, stuffing, tamping, lighting, and puffing. "My thanks good Sir", ect, ect. He'll make a point of finding out the brand so he can return the favor later. He follows his new companion out back with interest. He absentmindedly pets any dog that approaches him, but his attention is on the hole. He first examines it to try to determine what dealt the damage (natural or manufactured, slashing or bludgening, crude implements or sharpened steel, ect). Loki sniffs around curiously as well (The ferret has scent, though he's limited to empathic communication for now.) The Soulspark runs interference if any of the dogs start showing undue interest in playing with my familiar. Once he's done with the fence, he checks the ground for prints, tracks, or drag marks to get an idea what came through, how tall it was and how heavy. He's fairly oblivious and not the sharpest spoon in the drawer, but he's methodical and thorough. This could take a while if he isn't interrupted. (take 20 if possible, familiar attempts aid another, the alertness feat boosts his negative perception back up to +1.
Orent's quick once-over doesn't pick up much. It's a hole in the fence about four feet square in size, the wood snapped by force from the outside. What caused it and the like, though, he can't pick up from a single look.
After his quick look at the fence yielded nothing, Orent decides to take a more thorough search of the area around the hole in the fence. He searches both on the inside of the fence and on the outside of the fence.
Odette wanders around the town, taking in the sights and finding out if anything has changed since her last visit. Pierson tags along dutifully a pace behind her and garners his fair share of looks from passersby both frightened and curious.
After wandering until early afternoon, she makes her way back to the Inn to take lunch. Once more she orders simple stew, making sure that it has large chunks of meat for Pierson. She wonders if the others she met will be back. She was intrigued by the talks they were having about banding together to check out the flyer from the wall.
Orent and Gunnar
Further investigation bears fruit. The past few days have obscured even the most obvious tracks, and neither of you are a ranger by any means; but the fence's sturdy construction reveals much about the break-in. It was done using blunt tools, likely made of stone, and repeated force... or simply a large group of attackers. A tuft of thick, black fur is wedged in the wood planks, as if something lost a patch trying to squeeze through the opening. Perhaps your elf companion might be able to identify the animal it belonged to?
------
Sindri
After quite some time of waiting, you are at last intruded upon in your silent vigil. A young girl who looks to be in her early twenties, only about five feet and a shave tall and bundled up in a heavy parka that looks far too big for her but very warm, enters the building and gives a slight gasp when she sees you. She quickly recovers her composure with a slight giggle, however, and brushes back her hood.
There are three rather striking things about the young woman at first glance. The first is that her cheeks and the space just under her eyes are decorated in intricate tattoos that seem to shift in color depending on the angle you view them at. The second is that her eyes look to be the same color, shifting as well depending on how the light strikes them. The third is that though she looks quite young, her hair is stark white. Her ears have a slight curve and come to points, marking her as a half-elf... you think.
"Good morn to you stranger," she says with a lilting laugh after a few moments of observing you in silence. "Welcome to my shrine. I am called Nerele. What brings you to my lady's abode?"
Orent examines the fur wedged into the fence closely trying to determine which direction the creature that left the fur was going when it was caught by the fence. He says to Gunnar, "Wonder if this fur be from the dogs that were snatched, or creatures that snatched 'em? Perhaps one of our new friends from the inn, may be able to identify this fur? I'll talk to Orran and inquire 'bout the reward he is offerin."
Orent returns to Orran's office. "Orran, my recent acquaintances and I perhaps can assist you in solvin' this dastardly deed. But as most have rolled into town lookin' for work they'll be askin' straight away how much coin is involved. What are ya offerin?"
"I see a tuft of fur is wedged in the hole. Were any of your hounds black? How much do you reckin these breeding hounds be worth to the thief or thieves?"
The fur is rough, somewhat crusted with ice and a scaly grey substance, and coarse. It doesn't seem like it would belong to one of Orran's dogs, as he takes excellent care of their feeding and grooming, but it can't hurt to ask.
"Aye, I no expect anyone t' go out in th' wilds on my account and no be paid fer it," the breeder responds to Orent's inquiry calmly and with an understanding nod. "I be offering 500 gold pieces fer each dog ye bring back t' me alive, an' 200 fer each ye find dead or wounded too far ter be profitable, an' bring me back th' news."
Should that offer suit Orent's expecations and he continues, the breeder nods slightly. "A few be black coats or have black in 'em. I'll have a look at this fur ye found. As fer thieves... these be good breedin' hounds and good workin' hounds, they be well worth the cost. I'd wager upwards o' one-fifty, two hundred gold t' th' right buyer. Maybe more if'n they be interested in startin' their own breedin'."
If the pair lead him back to the fence to show him what they found, Orran kneels down - groaning slightly and clutching his wounded knee as he does - then studies the object carefully. He rises after a few moments, making a grumbling noise deep in his throat. "No be any of mine. Tha's bad fur, animal ain't been gettin' a good diet an' no been bein' cared for proper. Livin' off th' hunt, I'd wager. Feral dog, or wolf. Maybe worg."
"That be a mighty generous offer Orran. I can't speak fer the group but I'd be shocked if they turn down this job. Let me show ya the fur we found snagged 'round the hole and see if it looks familiar."
Orent leads Orran back to where the fur was spotted. He puffs on the pipe Orran offered him earlier as Orran examines the fur. After, Orran offers his theory about the source of the fur, Orent says, "We've taken nuff of your time. Let us leave ya to your work and I'll let the rest of the group know what we found and what ya offerin. One of em is an elven ranger so we may be back soon searchin for more clues."
Orent tamps out the remaining pipeweed and returns the pipe to Orran. He then leaves the kennel and returns to the inn to look for the remainder of the party.
Upon entering the inn, he spies Odette sitting at a table and sits down beside her being sure to place Odette between he and Pierson.
"Oy, Odette. Have ya seen the others from this mornin lately? There may be a job for us. And it should bring in some good coin too."
After quite some time of waiting, you are at last intruded upon in your silent vigil. A young girl who looks to be in her early twenties, only about five feet and a shave tall and bundled up in a heavy parka that looks far too big for her but very warm, enters the building and gives a slight gasp when she sees you. She quickly recovers her composure with a slight giggle, however, and brushes back her hood.There are three rather striking things about the young woman at first glance. The first is that her cheeks and the space just under her eyes are decorated in intricate tattoos that seem to shift in color depending on the angle you view them at. The second is that her eyes look to be the same color, shifting as well depending on how the light strikes them. The third is that though she looks quite young, her hair is stark white. Her ears have a slight curve and come to points, marking her as a half-elf... you think.
"Good morn to you stranger," she says with a lilting laugh after a few moments of observing you in silence. "Welcome to my shrine. I am called Nerele. What brings you to my lady's abode?"
Good morning, Mistress. I am Sindri. Pardon my intrusion in this place, but I could't pass up meet'n you. I, too have been called by the gods to service, though it was the call of Shelyn I heard.
It is my habit to visit the shrines I pass and talk to the keeprs in each. Do your duties allow time for such?
Odette looks at the Dwarf in surprise as he sits down. I have to get used to people wanting to talk to me, she thinks to herself.
"I... Orent right? I haven't seen any of the others come back here yet, although I was out looking around for a while so it's possible they returned while I was gone."
She does perk up a bit when she mentions the job. "A job would be most welcome, as I am almost out of the coin left behind by my father and still need to buy some supplies to take back home. What kind of job is it?"
"It be that job posted on the board that we saw earlier. Seems some ne'er do wells stole 6 prized breeding hounds from the kennel, and the owner - Orran Grimknuckle, he be wanting someone to track 'em down and bring 'em back. He's offerin a good price too. 500 gold pieces for each dog brought back alive and 200 pieces iffen they're dead or badly wounded.
Gunnar and I did a look see round the place. All we found was some fur stuck in the broken fence. Orran figures it was some starvin creature like a worg or somethin but didn't know fer sure. Couldn't tell much more seein as neither Gunnar nor I are any kind of ranger or something. This be a job you'd be interested in?"
Sindri
Nerele smiles brightly and nods. "My time of prayer is at an end, and I have made my rounds... you may stay in this place as long as you need, friend Sindri. You and your lady's are my guests this day."
She circles the room, lighting the candles and braziers with a flick of her hands and a few muttered words in a language you don't understand but is probably elven. By the time she finishes the room is significantly brighter and more comfortably warm. She then takes a seat in front of the altar, happily lowering herself to her knees and resting in a kneeling position on the floor. She motions for you to take a seat as well, and simply smiles, leaving you to open the discussion.
------
Gunnar
With Orent gone to fetch Odette, Orran has returned back to his seat inside the kennel office. He takes a moment to clean the pipe he lent to Orent, then returns it reverently to its drawer. He welcomes the sorcerer to a seat in the office while he waits; alternatively, if he goes out into the yard the dogs will attempt to approach and sniff at him and most will let him pet them, but for the most part they are well-behaved.
Pardon me if I speak akwardly- I'm not used to the presence of beautiful women.
I know little of the duties of someone such as yourself- how to minister to a community. All that Shelyn has asked of me has been of another nature. What you do may be a higher calling. How do you deal with the spiritual needs of others?
Odette perks up a little at Orent's words. "Tracking you say. I'd be saying that I am interested in such a job, especially given how much it is to be paying."
She quickly downs the last of her meal and stands, the Polar Bear cub at her side licking his bowl as he too gets to his feet. "Lead on," she says motioning to the door.
Orent turns and heads for the door and leads Odette and Pierson back to Orran's kennel. As they walk, He asks Odette, "Is that Polar bear cub friendly 'round other animals? I don't think Orran will be too happy if it riles up all of his dogs."
Once they arrive, Orent leads Odette around the outside of the fence line to the hole in the fence to allow her to look for clues.
Odette gives Orent a strange look at his question but replies simply, "if they do not attack him, then he will not harm them."
Once at the scene, she stops to take in the area first, then moves in to slowly search for any clues as to who may have done the deed and what direction they took.
Alerted by a the sudden interest felt by his familiar, Gunnar stops wrestling with the dogs long enough to see who's here. When he spies Odette, the lanky sorcerer pushes himself to his feet and calls a cheerful greeting. "Hail and welcome, Odette, Orent." He brushes at his clothes to dislodge the worst of the fur he's picked up playing with the hounds. With a self-depreciating eyeroll, he stops that futile endevour and with a subtle gesture and a word or two casts a cantrip instead....which promptly fails. The corner of his mouth turns up in equal parts grin and grimace. Still absentmindedly trying to brush himself off, he leaves Orent to show her the clue while he informs Orran that another prospective merc has arrived and they may learn more shortly.
Sindri
Nerele at first looks confused at the question. After a short bit she smiles though and gives a small shrug. "Starsong has given me a gift, a talent that I can make use of. Times come where others have need of this talent - when wounds strike them or sickness claims them. I provide relief and succor where I can. In exchange I am supplied with the physical needs... food, warmth, shelter." She pauses, gesturing at the building around you. "What is needed to survive. Still I wander and search and explore, learning of the land about and seeking what there still is to be found, but always have this place to return to and these people waiting for me." She smiles and cants her head slightly to the side. "Curious. What has your lady asked of you, so different from my own?"
---
Orent, Odette, Gunnar
Orran rumbles slightly as he hefts himself back to his feet and follows the group out back after Odette arrives. Unlike before, the myriad dogs don't simply respond with curiosity to the presence of the little bear - many are actually somewhat hostile, snapping and growling until Orran drives them around the corner to the far end of the yard. The old ranger remains there, just out of sight and still in earshot, keeping the dogs out of the way of the trio of adventurers.
Like before, there's little to see: some time has passed, and fresh snow has covered or obscured most of the tracks. Odette however can pick up that there were several presences all packed into a relatively small area - too small to be anything relatively human-sized. You're either dealing with halfling and/or gnomish bandits, or goblins or kobolds. The break in the wall was likely caused by repeated hammering with stone weapons - crude clubs and spears, no doubt, all blunt and no blade.
Odette
Odette gets a better look at the remains of the fur wedged in the fence. It is indeed worg fur, having the familiar greasy texture and deep black shade of the feral beasts.
Odette scowls at the dogs as they growl at Pierson, but Orran shoos them away and she is mollified with his efforts.
She takes alook at the area and because of the time since the theft it takes her longer than normal to pick up the tracks. After nodding, she takes a closer look at the fur from the fence before turningt o the others.
"The tracks are small and there are many of them, so whoever took this was stealthy and worked in numbers to quickly break the barrier with what looks like crude weapons. It could be Halflings, Gnomes or Kobolds, but unlikely given that I also identified this," she holds up the fur, "as Worg fur. That means the most likely culprit is Goblins. I'm not familiar with this area, so does anyone know of any Goblin camps around here?"
I suppose I have been asked much the same, save that rather than sending tasks to me, my Lady has shown me evil and given me the will to oppose it. Never have been called to a single place, but instead to have a friend and to follow where he leads. I know little of returning, only travel. No place has ever called for my return.
May I ask what other lands and people you have known?
"Aye - I been spending most of my time in the mines so I haven't come across any goblin camps." Orent calls out."Orran, do ya know of any goblin camps 'round here?"
"Not to take more of your stock Orren, but could one of your dogs here follow the trail and lead us to his packmates? A huntin' hound would be real handy right now. If nothin else, sound carries a long way out here. We can take a guess and try having the dogs howl when we might be close. If'n the goblins haven't muzzled them, we'll hear the reply. Leastways that's the best I can come up with at the moment."