Will looks slightly nervous but you sense it is because of what has happened rather than any circumstances, if the taxes are truly missing and need to be replaced a lot of people will be suffering over winter and one of the first things they'll do is put off any smithing that needs to be done...so he's likely to be going hungry.
Fergus tries to reassure Will with a pat on the shoulder
"We'll do our best to get the gold back. Sir Beorn made it clear that the taxes were due, one way or another. If ya hear any of the other villagers mention anything that might help us, please seek us out before we leave."
Turning his attention back to his new comrades
"You folks find anything? Should we regroup inside?"
Back in the inn things are beginning to wind down and rooms are readied for everyone as the villagers head back to their own dwellings.
Almeric drinks the cider and eats the beef, reflecting on the beginning of his new life back in Albion. His new retinue were even better than he could have imagined. Each of them knows their job and can perform them excellently. He had no need to fuss over them like a mother hen, or check up on them at all, confident that they would report back everything he needed to know. Almeric allowed himself to be isolated and unguaded in the hall, giving any nefarious villagers the opportunity to take advantage of the situation. This honey trap had been very successful in the past, albeit risky, but Americ was not as drunk as he appeared. PERCEPTION = 6
Cainneach takes in some of the random comments from the crowd, although a lot of it's a jumble and he struggles to focus. After a minute or so, he turns to Famh and whispers, "I'm not sure if you're picking up the same things as I, but it seems these people are truly afraid of this Jack, whatever he may be. It sounds like there's an iron fence bordering the dell, but that Jack can travel outside of the dell in the form of a dire wolf. Some old man named Rath saw it, but he's since passed on. Maybe Fergus and Almeric might find that useful, along with the information you've got."Cainneach gestures over to where Fergus is huddled with Ori and Thatch.
"Maybe he's only half Fey if he can pass the fence, dire wolf or no.," Famh whispers back. The full-blooded Old Ones aren't supposed to be able to pass cold iron ... I'd guess that's why Saint Ambrosius made it so, or whoever did make it. You're right, though, Fergus would no doubt appreciate this word. I'll go tell him." She clearly senses Cainneach's discomfort in crowds, and doesn't want to trouble him by pointing it out. After a moiment, she walks over to Fergus and repeats all that she and Cainneach have picked up
Back in the inn things are beginning to wind down and rooms are readied for everyone as the villagers head back to their own dwellings.
Almeric drinks the cider and eats the beef, reflecting on the beginning of his new life back in Albion. His new retinue were even better than he could have imagined. Each of them knows their job and can perform them excellently. He had no need to fuss over them like a mother hen, or check up on them at all, confident that they would report back everything he needed to know. Almeric allowed himself to be isolated and unguaded in the hall, giving any nefarious villagers the opportunity to take advantage of the situation. This honey trap had been very successful in the past, albeit risky, but Americ was not as drunk as he appeared. PERCEPTION = 6
Almeric sits alone as Cainneach and Famh converse and Ori keeps a well matured eye out, there is still beef aplenty though it is no longer hot and a keg is left tapped on the bar as the innkeep retires for the night leaving the retinue alone.
None of the villagers seem to give their unusual visitors much thought their minds occupied with what troubles may lie ahead. The companions do note in their terrible descriptions of the Dell and its inhabitant an odd kind of fondness for their local monster....even if none seem to agree on what exactly it is...
"Maybe he's only half Fey if he can pass the fence, dire wolf or no.," Famh whispers back. The full-blooded Old Ones aren't supposed to be able to pass cold iron ... I'd guess that's why Saint Ambrosius made it so, or whoever did make it. You're right, though, Fergus would no doubt appreciate this word. I'll go tell him." She clearly senses Cainneach's discomfort in crowds, and doesn't want to trouble him by pointing it out. After a moiment, she walks over to Fergus and repeats all that she and Cainneach have picked up
Before Famh departs, Cainneach gently grabs her arm and whispers, "You know much that I do not. Dru wasn't open with what she knew of the Old Ones and the Aos Si ... I think she was trying to protect me, but it seems now that I'd be safer learning as much as I can. I pray thee tell me more, Famh, when we have the chance. And thank you." He nods toward Fergus across the room and manages a small smile before letting go of her arm.
After Famh heads toward the party's earnest scribe, Cainneach makes payment for the two of them to the innkeeper as best as he can figure it, then rises from his seat and makes his way out of the inn. "Some night air to clear my head before I turn in. I've half a mind to make camp, but I imagine Almeric wouldn't be too pleased if he thinks I've wandered off."Cainneach wanders aimlessly through the various paths of the village until he quickly finds himself confronted with open fields and the road outward. With a sigh, he crosses his arms and stares up at the clouds passing across the moon and stars, wondering what lies ahead. Eventually, he shakes his head, doubtful of where his path may lead, and returns to the inn and his room, where he lays down for the night.
Ori has always had a way a working a crowd, chit chatting and getting laughs out of folks. So much so he could focus on something else entirely and keep up with the conversations like he actively listening. Though truth be told he he didn't retain hardly any of the conversations or story's he heard, or told for that matter. It was an old trick he had learned before his new way of life. But here he was still working the crowd as always, somethings truly never change.
As Ori is making the rounds between tables with the most drinks flowing, he watched his new ring leader, this Sir Almeric. Almeric seemed decent enough, so did the rest of the tossed together group they had going, though it looks like he prefers drinking alone. Also looks like he's had one or two more then he needed for the night. He also made a point to watch Famh and Cainneach conversing in the corner, clearly not big on crowds. They seemed to get closer as time goes on and good for them, everyone needs someone to trust and talk to. It had been years since he had that. "Well ladies and gents, I think that's curtain call I hear. I bid you farewell and safe travels. Til the morrow." Ori looked forward to a proper bed, and it might be the last decent sleep he has for sometime and he plans to enjoy it.
Fergus tries to reassure Will with a pat on the shoulder
"We'll do our best to get the gold back. Sir Beorn made it clear that the taxes were due, one way or another. If ya hear any of the other villagers mention anything that might help us, please seek us out before we leave."
Turning his attention back to his new comrades
"You folks find anything? Should we regroup inside?"
Thatch looks back at Fergus and shakes his head at the question “Nothing, sir. Saddlebags were torn open, just as they said, but no other sign or clues. Precious little to help us track the man’s trail either. Good thing we know he went to the Dell” He looks back at Will “The old girl is favoring her back leg, something to keep an eye on.” He moves with Fergus and Tana back to the inn when they are ready to share the report with the others.
"This was a smash and dash. We would have to be extraordinarily lucky for them to have left any significant clues behind to their identity. Good call to check though. With the trail gone cold I agree, we are very fortunate to know the location of the crime. We should check in with the others before we turn in. How about you Tana? Will she be OK?" Fergus refers to the horse.
Fergus tries to reassure Will with a pat on the shoulder
"We'll do our best to get the gold back. Sir Beorn made it clear that the taxes were due, one way or another. If ya hear any of the other villagers mention anything that might help us, please seek us out before we leave."
Turning his attention back to his new comrades
"You folks find anything? Should we regroup inside?"
Thatch looks back at Fergus and shakes his head at the question “Nothing, sir. Saddlebags were torn open, just as they said, but no other sign or clues. Precious little to help us track the man’s trail either. Good thing we know he went to the Dell” He looks back at Will “The old girl is favoring her back leg, something to keep an eye on.” He moves with Fergus and Tana back to the inn when they are ready to share the report with the others.
Will nods agreement and heads off to his own home.
"This was a smash and dash. We would have to be extraordinarily lucky for them to have left any significant clues behind to their identity. Good call to check though. With the trail gone cold I agree, we are very fortunate to know the location of the crime. We should check in with the others before we turn in. How about you Tana? Will she be OK?" Fergus refers to the horse.
Thatch, Fergus and Tana return to the inn ( Tana can fill folks in on her findings as she wishes).
Seperate rooms have been prepared for Sir Almeric along with Famh and Tana, the rest of you have cots in a communal room.
You all awake the next morning somewhat well rest and are able to have some discussion before planning your departure....
Fergus sits with his trusty book open and goes over his notes with the group.
"So, we have report of two dark bearded assailants fleeing the scene with what appeared to be the tax collection. No clues from the locals or on the gear of the taxman's horse to indicate who the assailants were. Last known location of the taxman and the sword is likely to be in nearby hollow, Hob's Dell. This is the territory of a mystical and dangerous individual called 'Gardner Jack', specifics vary."
Closing the book he pauses for others to add anything he missed.
At breakfast, Almeric will encourage each person to share their own experiences of the evening. Almeric listens carefully, nodding thoughtfully until everyone has spoken.
"Excellent work everyone. The Tax Revenue is gone, but Harold and the Sword are yet to be found. We will proceed to Hobbs Dell without delay to investigate. There may well be a supernatural presence there so we must be cautious, especially Tana and... Fahm. The information we have gained has indeed been useful. Fergus, please settle the bill with the Inn Keep and pass the reward to him to share among the farmers (Amount TBC). On the way back I will collect Harold's mare, she should be ready to walk by then, eh Thatch? Ori, I'd like to discuss tactics with you on the road. Cairnnach, lead on if you please."
Almeric moves over to Fahm before they all move off. "Fahm, you remind me of someone I once met in Crescentium. They were young and gifted too. I miss them a great deal. Please forgive my impertinence for not using your name correctly." With a slight flush to his cheeks, Almeric moves off without waiting for an answer.
Tana pipes up from when where she stands in wait, still turning over the information she had received from the night before.
"Be wary of the rough path as we go, especially if any of you travel on hoof." She notes, gaze flickering over toward Almeric briefly. "And keep on the lookout for... metal trees up into the hill."
Fergus sits with his trusty book open and goes over his notes with the group.
"So, we have report of two dark bearded assailants fleeing the scene with what appeared to be the tax collection. No clues from the locals or on the gear of the taxman's horse to indicate who the assailants were. Last known location of the taxman and the sword is likely to be in nearby hollow, Hob's Dell. This is the territory of a mystical and dangerous individual called 'Gardner Jack', specifics vary."
Closing the book he pauses for others to add anything he missed.
Still laying in bed Ori is tossing a hand axe in the air and catching it, smooth like a one handed juggle. "Aye, let's see. So two people with beards riding horses, that could be anybody, plus all one would have to do is shave to no longer fit that description." Ori gets a little smirk on his face, "come to think of it Fergus, didn't you and Almeric come riding into town not too long ago?" He catches the axe and sits up on his cot, "Those 2 and that money are most likely out of our grasp at this point. And the coins aren't traceable so we could only hope they kept the sword to be able to identify them, though it appears not. I'm sure we will end up looking for the dead tax man, but it's the coins that would have saved everyone here."
Down at breakfast Ori again flinched at hearing his name and tactics, hoping Sir Almeric means that he has tactics to share with Ori. Ori always was a one man show, not sure how he could contribute on the tactical front.
Tana pipes up from when where she stands in wait, still turning over the information she had received from the night before.
"Be wary of the rough path as we go, especially if any of you travel on hoof." She notes, gaze flickering over toward Almeric briefly. "And keep on the lookout for... metal trees up into the hill."
"Wait, did you actually SPEAK with the horse!? I didn't know that was possible, well that opens up a bit potential information. Did it confirm who it's rider was? Did it mention other horses with riders? Did the horses come before or after losing the rider? Do horses always talk in cryptic manners?"
Fergus sits with his trusty book open and goes over his notes with the group.
"So, we have report of two dark bearded assailants fleeing the scene with what appeared to be the tax collection. No clues from the locals or on the gear of the taxman's horse to indicate who the assailants were. Last known location of the taxman and the sword is likely to be in nearby hollow, Hob's Dell. This is the territory of a mystical and dangerous individual called 'Gardner Jack', specifics vary."
Closing the book he pauses for others to add anything he missed.
"Specifics vary ... that's a rather glib way of referring to someone who may be able to shapeshift into a dire wolf and circumvent the usual protections against the Old Ones ... It's all right, I think this Fergus is sharp enough,"Cainneach thinks to himself. He enjoyed the debriefing over breakfast, particularly the recounting by Tana of her learnings from the horse. What good fortune to be in the company of such interesting and talented people! Thatch gave a good account of himself, as usual, and Famh seemed to be growing in confidence. Cainneach kept quiet for the most part, only speaking up to affirm what others relayed, and doing so in a way that made clear to the party that he could read lips. After hearing the request from Almeric to lead the way, Cainneach gives Famh a smile and encouraging pat on the back, and a nod to Thatch and Tana. He adjusts his new scabbards, leather and as cheaply made as possible without being unreliable. The shortsword hangs from his belt and the longsword on his back, and Cainneach is still wondering when he'll finally get used to lugging these fine weapons around. Finally, he shoulders his pack, picks up his quarterstaff, and marches off up the road toward Hob's Dell. He'll put a little bit of distance between himself and the party before slowing his pace.
One of the village boys takes you north a little way into the hills and points you on your way before scurrying back towards Norham.
Following the signs he described to you, you pass a lightning-split oak and wend your way beside a gurgling brook, and in about an hour you reach Hob’s Dell. Ranging a little ahead Cainneach comes across no dangers or difficulties.
A sea of freezing fog hangs here, filling the air with a damp animal reek. You find a fence of iron railings higher than your heads, sturdy despite its rust. Following this a little way, you see a few gaps where the railings are broken or rusted away, though none large enough for a man to squeeze through.
Soon you arrive at the gate in this fence. Close by you notice a possible clue to the tax collector’s fate: a bloodied tatter of cloth hangs from one of the fence’s sharp spikes. The gate is fastened shut with a heavy chain on which hangs a large black stylized fish. Beyond the railings you see only the impenetrable blanket of the mist....
Fergus give Ori a dark look for a moment at the suggestion that Sir Almeric could be one of the thieves but it quickly passes.
His eyebrows raise at Tana's update. She had clearly connected with the horse but it still surprised him on how much information she was able to obtain. He was there! Making a mental note he is even more impressed.
Nodding to Sir Almeric he pays the Inn Keeper as instructed and pulls out his walking stick for the next leg of the journey.
One of the village boys takes you north a little way into the hills and points you on your way before scurrying back towards Norham.
Following the signs he described to you, you pass a lightning-split oak and wend your way beside a gurgling brook, and in about an hour you reach Hob’s Dell. Ranging a little ahead Cainneach comes across no dangers or difficulties.
A sea of freezing fog hangs here, filling the air with a damp animal reek. You find a fence of iron railings higher than your heads, sturdy despite its rust. Following this a little way, you see a few gaps where the railings are broken or rusted away, though none large enough for a man to squeeze through.
Soon you arrive at the gate in this fence. Close by you notice a possible clue to the tax collector’s fate: a bloodied tatter of cloth hangs from one of the fence’s sharp spikes. The gate is fastened shut with a heavy chain on which hangs a large black stylized fish. Beyond the railings you see only the impenetrable blanket of the mist....
Though unsettled by the mist, his curiosity gets the better of him as he examines the fish. He looks it over for clues of an owner and a way to unlock. Investigation: 9
Almeric stands by the imposing iron gates, secured by the heavy chain and looks at the large black fish. He carefully surveys the long fence and dense fog. Almeric has a sudden flashback and remembers his Occult Knowledge classes at Fortress Corvenna in Braeburg. A Squire-at-Arms in the Knights Capellar, being warned of Master Simon of such things. Religion = 6 Doh!
"Iron trees, impenetrable fog, bloody cloth! This must be Hobb's Dell! It appears Harold jumped the fence to avoid the brigands. Take care not to damage the fence, gate or chain, as is may be holding the fog and Gardener Jack in place? We will climb the fence in pairs, watching our comrades from all sides. I will lead, as it is my job. Once I safe over then the rest can follow" Almeric slings his shield on his back, freeing both hands and prepares to climb the fence carefully. Athletics = 7 Oops! It's not that difficult right?!?!
Once on the other side, Almeric stands firm at the edge of the fog, hefts his shield into position, draws his sword and stands ready to defend anyone climbing the fence.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Thatch moves behind Cainneach as they travel, close enough to watch and learn and provide help if necessary and far enough back to not get in his way as Cainneach scouts ahead. When they arrive at the Dell, Thatch approaches the gate and peers into the thickening fog without success. As the others investigate the fish symbol, he pulls out two thin pieces of metal from his pouch and starts to work the lock, stopping only when Sir Almeric asks them to avoid disturbing the gate before something could escape. Placing his tools back, he scans the fence and tries to work his small body through one of the gaps in the fence. If that fails, he hoists himself up and over, following Sir Almeric as he climbs.
Though unsettled by the mist, his curiosity gets the better of him as he examines the fish. He looks it over for clues of an owner and a way to unlock. Investigation: 9
The 'fish' is about two foot long and is a blackened colour faint engravings can be made out through the tarnish but Fergus cant read them. As he runs his finger over them some of the black tarnish flakes off revealing the silvery metal beneath.
The chain is solid iron and looped through the gates, there is no lock upon it and it would need to be broken open forcefully or sawn through in order to remove it.
Almeric stands by the imposing iron gates, secured by the heavy chain and looks at the large black fish. He carefully surveys the long fence and dense fog. Almeric has a sudden flashback and remembers his Occult Knowledge classes at Fortress Corvenna in Braeburg. A Squire-at-Arms in the Knights Capellar, being warned of Master Simon of such things. Religion = 6 Doh!
"Iron trees, impenetrable fog, bloody cloth! This must be Hobb's Dell! It appears Harold jumped the fence to avoid the brigands. Take care not to damage the fence, gate or chain, as is may be holding the fog and Gardener Jack in place? We will climb the fence in pairs, watching our comrades from all sides. I will lead, as it is my job. Once I safe over then the rest can follow" Almeric slings his shield on his back, freeing both hands and prepares to climb the fence carefully. Athletics = 7 Oops! It's not that difficult right?!?!
Once on the other side, Almeric stands firm at the edge of the fog, hefts his shield into position, draws his sword and stands ready to defend anyone climbing the fence.
Almeric gets hung up momentarily on the sharp points of the iron fence but manages to free himself and drop down inside a little awkwardly but unscathed.
Looking out into the fog it is impossible to see more than 30' ahead, and even 10' out only vague shapes can be seen.
Thatch moves behind Cainneach as they travel, close enough to watch and learn and provide help if necessary and far enough back to not get in his way as Cainneach scouts ahead. When they arrive at the Dell, Thatch approaches the gate and peers into the thickening fog without success. He scans the fence and tries to work his small body through one of the gaps in the fence. If that fails, he hoists himself up and over, following Sir Almeric as he climbs.
Acrobatics to squeeze through an opening: 17.
Athletics to climb: 3.
Thatch manages to squeeze himself between the railings but is fairly sure that none of the others are going to fit through and they will need to climb over.
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Back in the inn things are beginning to wind down and rooms are readied for everyone as the villagers head back to their own dwellings.
Fergus tries to reassure Will with a pat on the shoulder
"We'll do our best to get the gold back. Sir Beorn made it clear that the taxes were due, one way or another. If ya hear any of the other villagers mention anything that might help us, please seek us out before we leave."
Turning his attention back to his new comrades
"You folks find anything? Should we regroup inside?"
Almeric drinks the cider and eats the beef, reflecting on the beginning of his new life back in Albion. His new retinue were even better than he could have imagined. Each of them knows their job and can perform them excellently. He had no need to fuss over them like a mother hen, or check up on them at all, confident that they would report back everything he needed to know. Almeric allowed himself to be isolated and unguaded in the hall, giving any nefarious villagers the opportunity to take advantage of the situation. This honey trap had been very successful in the past, albeit risky, but Americ was not as drunk as he appeared. PERCEPTION = 6
"Maybe he's only half Fey if he can pass the fence, dire wolf or no.," Famh whispers back. The full-blooded Old Ones aren't supposed to be able to pass cold iron ... I'd guess that's why Saint Ambrosius made it so, or whoever did make it. You're right, though, Fergus would no doubt appreciate this word. I'll go tell him." She clearly senses Cainneach's discomfort in crowds, and doesn't want to trouble him by pointing it out. After a moiment, she walks over to Fergus and repeats all that she and Cainneach have picked up
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Almeric sits alone as Cainneach and Famh converse and Ori keeps a well matured eye out, there is still beef aplenty though it is no longer hot and a keg is left tapped on the bar as the innkeep retires for the night leaving the retinue alone.
None of the villagers seem to give their unusual visitors much thought their minds occupied with what troubles may lie ahead. The companions do note in their terrible descriptions of the Dell and its inhabitant an odd kind of fondness for their local monster....even if none seem to agree on what exactly it is...
Before Famh departs, Cainneach gently grabs her arm and whispers, "You know much that I do not. Dru wasn't open with what she knew of the Old Ones and the Aos Si ... I think she was trying to protect me, but it seems now that I'd be safer learning as much as I can. I pray thee tell me more, Famh, when we have the chance. And thank you." He nods toward Fergus across the room and manages a small smile before letting go of her arm.
After Famh heads toward the party's earnest scribe, Cainneach makes payment for the two of them to the innkeeper as best as he can figure it, then rises from his seat and makes his way out of the inn. "Some night air to clear my head before I turn in. I've half a mind to make camp, but I imagine Almeric wouldn't be too pleased if he thinks I've wandered off." Cainneach wanders aimlessly through the various paths of the village until he quickly finds himself confronted with open fields and the road outward. With a sigh, he crosses his arms and stares up at the clouds passing across the moon and stars, wondering what lies ahead. Eventually, he shakes his head, doubtful of where his path may lead, and returns to the inn and his room, where he lays down for the night.
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Ori has always had a way a working a crowd, chit chatting and getting laughs out of folks. So much so he could focus on something else entirely and keep up with the conversations like he actively listening. Though truth be told he he didn't retain hardly any of the conversations or story's he heard, or told for that matter. It was an old trick he had learned before his new way of life. But here he was still working the crowd as always, somethings truly never change.
As Ori is making the rounds between tables with the most drinks flowing, he watched his new ring leader, this Sir Almeric. Almeric seemed decent enough, so did the rest of the tossed together group they had going, though it looks like he prefers drinking alone. Also looks like he's had one or two more then he needed for the night. He also made a point to watch Famh and Cainneach conversing in the corner, clearly not big on crowds. They seemed to get closer as time goes on and good for them, everyone needs someone to trust and talk to. It had been years since he had that. "Well ladies and gents, I think that's curtain call I hear. I bid you farewell and safe travels. Til the morrow." Ori looked forward to a proper bed, and it might be the last decent sleep he has for sometime and he plans to enjoy it.
Thatch looks back at Fergus and shakes his head at the question “Nothing, sir. Saddlebags were torn open, just as they said, but no other sign or clues. Precious little to help us track the man’s trail either. Good thing we know he went to the Dell” He looks back at Will “The old girl is favoring her back leg, something to keep an eye on.” He moves with Fergus and Tana back to the inn when they are ready to share the report with the others.
"This was a smash and dash. We would have to be extraordinarily lucky for them to have left any significant clues behind to their identity. Good call to check though. With the trail gone cold I agree, we are very fortunate to know the location of the crime. We should check in with the others before we turn in. How about you Tana? Will she be OK?" Fergus refers to the horse.
Will nods agreement and heads off to his own home.
Thatch, Fergus and Tana return to the inn ( Tana can fill folks in on her findings as she wishes).
Seperate rooms have been prepared for Sir Almeric along with Famh and Tana, the rest of you have cots in a communal room.
You all awake the next morning somewhat well rest and are able to have some discussion before planning your departure....
Fergus sits with his trusty book open and goes over his notes with the group.
"So, we have report of two dark bearded assailants fleeing the scene with what appeared to be the tax collection. No clues from the locals or on the gear of the taxman's horse to indicate who the assailants were. Last known location of the taxman and the sword is likely to be in nearby hollow, Hob's Dell. This is the territory of a mystical and dangerous individual called 'Gardner Jack', specifics vary."
Closing the book he pauses for others to add anything he missed.
At breakfast, Almeric will encourage each person to share their own experiences of the evening. Almeric listens carefully, nodding thoughtfully until everyone has spoken.
"Excellent work everyone. The Tax Revenue is gone, but Harold and the Sword are yet to be found. We will proceed to Hobbs Dell without delay to investigate. There may well be a supernatural presence there so we must be cautious, especially Tana and... Fahm. The information we have gained has indeed been useful. Fergus, please settle the bill with the Inn Keep and pass the reward to him to share among the farmers (Amount TBC). On the way back I will collect Harold's mare, she should be ready to walk by then, eh Thatch? Ori, I'd like to discuss tactics with you on the road. Cairnnach, lead on if you please."
Almeric moves over to Fahm before they all move off. "Fahm, you remind me of someone I once met in Crescentium. They were young and gifted too. I miss them a great deal. Please forgive my impertinence for not using your name correctly." With a slight flush to his cheeks, Almeric moves off without waiting for an answer.
Tana pipes up from when where she stands in wait, still turning over the information she had received from the night before.
"Be wary of the rough path as we go, especially if any of you travel on hoof." She notes, gaze flickering over toward Almeric briefly. "And keep on the lookout for... metal trees up into the hill."
Noire Havensong | Harengon Archfey Warlock 6/Lore Bard 4 | Westmarch - Guild of the Phoenix (Discord)
Tanatari Crelieu | Kalashtar Druid 2 | Damian_May's Sleeping Gods
Jynx Starrkeep | Changling GOO Warlock 2 | Astien's Tyranny of Dragons
DM | Eberron Eternal (Discord)
Still laying in bed Ori is tossing a hand axe in the air and catching it, smooth like a one handed juggle. "Aye, let's see. So two people with beards riding horses, that could be anybody, plus all one would have to do is shave to no longer fit that description." Ori gets a little smirk on his face, "come to think of it Fergus, didn't you and Almeric come riding into town not too long ago?" He catches the axe and sits up on his cot, "Those 2 and that money are most likely out of our grasp at this point. And the coins aren't traceable so we could only hope they kept the sword to be able to identify them, though it appears not. I'm sure we will end up looking for the dead tax man, but it's the coins that would have saved everyone here."
Down at breakfast Ori again flinched at hearing his name and tactics, hoping Sir Almeric means that he has tactics to share with Ori. Ori always was a one man show, not sure how he could contribute on the tactical front.
"Wait, did you actually SPEAK with the horse!? I didn't know that was possible, well that opens up a bit potential information. Did it confirm who it's rider was? Did it mention other horses with riders? Did the horses come before or after losing the rider? Do horses always talk in cryptic manners?"
"Specifics vary ... that's a rather glib way of referring to someone who may be able to shapeshift into a dire wolf and circumvent the usual protections against the Old Ones ... It's all right, I think this Fergus is sharp enough," Cainneach thinks to himself. He enjoyed the debriefing over breakfast, particularly the recounting by Tana of her learnings from the horse. What good fortune to be in the company of such interesting and talented people! Thatch gave a good account of himself, as usual, and Famh seemed to be growing in confidence. Cainneach kept quiet for the most part, only speaking up to affirm what others relayed, and doing so in a way that made clear to the party that he could read lips. After hearing the request from Almeric to lead the way, Cainneach gives Famh a smile and encouraging pat on the back, and a nod to Thatch and Tana. He adjusts his new scabbards, leather and as cheaply made as possible without being unreliable. The shortsword hangs from his belt and the longsword on his back, and Cainneach is still wondering when he'll finally get used to lugging these fine weapons around. Finally, he shoulders his pack, picks up his quarterstaff, and marches off up the road toward Hob's Dell. He'll put a little bit of distance between himself and the party before slowing his pace.
Passive WIS (Perception) 20
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One of the village boys takes you north a little way into the hills and points you on your way before scurrying back towards Norham.
Following the signs he described to you, you pass a lightning-split oak and wend your way beside a gurgling brook, and in about an hour you reach Hob’s Dell. Ranging a little ahead Cainneach comes across no dangers or difficulties.
A sea of freezing fog hangs here, filling the air with a damp animal reek. You find a fence of iron railings higher than your heads, sturdy despite its rust. Following this a little way, you see a few gaps where the railings are broken or rusted away, though none large enough for a man to squeeze through.
Soon you arrive at the gate in this fence. Close by you notice a possible clue to the tax collector’s fate: a bloodied tatter of cloth hangs from one of the fence’s sharp spikes. The gate is fastened shut with a heavy chain on which hangs a large black stylized fish. Beyond the railings you see only the impenetrable blanket of the mist....
Fergus give Ori a dark look for a moment at the suggestion that Sir Almeric could be one of the thieves but it quickly passes.
His eyebrows raise at Tana's update. She had clearly connected with the horse but it still surprised him on how much information she was able to obtain. He was there! Making a mental note he is even more impressed.
Nodding to Sir Almeric he pays the Inn Keeper as instructed and pulls out his walking stick for the next leg of the journey.
Though unsettled by the mist, his curiosity gets the better of him as he examines the fish. He looks it over for clues of an owner and a way to unlock.
Investigation: 9
Almeric stands by the imposing iron gates, secured by the heavy chain and looks at the large black fish. He carefully surveys the long fence and dense fog. Almeric has a sudden flashback and remembers his Occult Knowledge classes at Fortress Corvenna in Braeburg. A Squire-at-Arms in the Knights Capellar, being warned of Master Simon of such things. Religion = 6 Doh!
"Iron trees, impenetrable fog, bloody cloth! This must be Hobb's Dell! It appears Harold jumped the fence to avoid the brigands. Take care not to damage the fence, gate or chain, as is may be holding the fog and Gardener Jack in place? We will climb the fence in pairs, watching our comrades from all sides. I will lead, as it is my job. Once I safe over then the rest can follow" Almeric slings his shield on his back, freeing both hands and prepares to climb the fence carefully. Athletics = 7 Oops! It's not that difficult right?!?!
Once on the other side, Almeric stands firm at the edge of the fog, hefts his shield into position, draws his sword and stands ready to defend anyone climbing the fence.
Thatch moves behind Cainneach as they travel, close enough to watch and learn and provide help if necessary and far enough back to not get in his way as Cainneach scouts ahead. When they arrive at the Dell, Thatch approaches the gate and peers into the thickening fog without success. As the others investigate the fish symbol, he pulls out two thin pieces of metal from his pouch and starts to work the lock, stopping only when Sir Almeric asks them to avoid disturbing the gate before something could escape. Placing his tools back, he scans the fence and tries to work his small body through one of the gaps in the fence. If that fails, he hoists himself up and over, following Sir Almeric as he climbs.
Acrobatics to squeeze through an opening: 18.
Athletics to climb: 13.
.
The 'fish' is about two foot long and is a blackened colour faint engravings can be made out through the tarnish but Fergus cant read them. As he runs his finger over them some of the black tarnish flakes off revealing the silvery metal beneath.
The chain is solid iron and looped through the gates, there is no lock upon it and it would need to be broken open forcefully or sawn through in order to remove it.
Almeric gets hung up momentarily on the sharp points of the iron fence but manages to free himself and drop down inside a little awkwardly but unscathed.
Looking out into the fog it is impossible to see more than 30' ahead, and even 10' out only vague shapes can be seen.
Thatch manages to squeeze himself between the railings but is fairly sure that none of the others are going to fit through and they will need to climb over.