Thanks! I'll take any excuse to fire off a bolt of, well, fire. Yeah, 30' and 70 degrees up, it was pretty close and almost right above our heads.
[OOG] Sorry, my bad. Read that as 70' for some reason.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Altani takes the arrow out of her backpack and steps forward.
"Here it is. Between us we believe it to have been made for a short bow, the fletching being of chicken feather and the shalf crafted from birch wood. Can you tell us anythung else or even who would use such arrows to hunt?"
Pente takes the broken arrow from you hand, turning it over and examining it closely for some time before the experienced bowyer looks up and remarks,
"You've a keen eye, centaur. Yes, it is all of those things. I can tell you that it's also not one of my arrows. I prefer to use cedar, favouring its strength over the easier to find but weaker birch in these parts. I also prefer to use goose feathers over chicken feathers, as they provide better water resistence in my opinion.
As for who would make such arrows... well, there are plenty of poorer folk in these parts who would rather use cheaper substitutes than pay for my craftsmanship. Alas, without more information, I couldn't really hazard a guess as to who might have made this particular arrow."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
"Well, that's certainly the most horrible thing I've seen for some time. You know that there are children who live here, right?"
Mazin will look up, suddenly realizing carrying a dead and dismembered body around town is probably not the best idea. "Ahh, yea. Good point. I will drop this off with the guards." He'll go and drop off the body with the guards and heads back.
As for who would make such arrows... well, there are plenty of poorer folk in these parts who would rather use cheaper substitutes than pay for my craftsmanship. Alas, without more information, I couldn't really hazard a guess as to who might have made this particular arrow."
Mazin will say "What other information do you need? Dewi saw them from a distance, if that helps. What was it, some cloaked individuals, smaller then her. They had a bunch of hounds with them. Does that sound like people around here that would make there own arrows like these?"
Mazin will look up, suddenly realizing carrying a dead and dismembered body around town is probably not the best idea. "Ahh, yea. Good point. I will drop this off with the guards." He'll go and drop off the body with the guards and heads back.
Mazin will say "What other information do you need? Dewi saw them from a distance, if that helps. What was it, some cloaked individuals, smaller then her. They had a bunch of hounds with them. Does that sound like people around here that would make there own arrows like these?"
Dropping the dismembered and mutilated body off with the unlucky guardsman who seems to be in charge of burning the dead orcs from last night's attack, Mazin is met with an enquiring eye and grimace as the sweaty man with the bloodstained hands says, "Gee, thanks. Must have missed this one in my sweep of the town. Just what I needed... another dead orc." The grumbling fellow adds the grisly corpse to the pyre that he's building.
Returning to Pente's home and place of business, Mazin is at first greeted with a look of mild annoyance by the older woman, but that look turns into an expression of mild curiosity as the barbarian keeps speaking,
"Look, big fella. I don't know what you want me to say. Arrows can sometimes be distinctive things, true, but it's not like there aren't a dozen people in these parts who make their own. And before you ask, we don't put our names on them, neither. As I said...
What's that you said? Small folk you say, wearing hooded cloaks and running hounds? Well now, that does sound like it could be a few people I know of. A few nogoodniks that have poorer sense and too tight pockets on them to come to old Pente for stock."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
What's that you said? Small folk you say, wearing hooded cloaks and running hounds? Well now, that does sound like it could be a few people I know of. A few nogoodniks that have poorer sense and too tight pockets on them to come to old Pente for stock."
Dewis eyes narrowed and she stared at the fletcher, " Their names? Is there exchange needed for your words?"
Dewi was getting frustrated, she wanted to bring the womans killers to justice but everything done within walls took so long.......
”Yes it is said they are small in stature. Do you know any others among the poorer folks in the area who have skills as a fletcher?”
Turning back to speak to you, but only after giving Kestrell a smile that says the old woman was pleased to be of assistance, Pente *thumps* one calloused fist on her table and says triumphantly,
"Ha! Yup, that sounds like Mother's waste of space sons, alright. Small in stature and smaller still in decency or common sense. Though there's almost more of them than even those nasty hounds they breed. Most of that lot work over at the peat fields East of town and I seem to recall Mother's place being not too far from there either. Hope that helps!
Be careful if you're planning to visit that bunch though. Drunk or sober, Mother's tough as old wyvern leather and those boys of hers are a surly lot. And those hounds are a menace to boot. I ain't got nothing against halflings in general mind, but those are some mean little sons of *****es. Best watch your fingers and purses when talking with those little folk.
Now what do you say you buy some of Pente's fine arrows instead of just talking the morning away, ehh?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Altani smiles, "Thank you very much Pente. I had full faith in your knowledge of these lands that you would know such culprits. I understand that they sound like a devious lot, however we suspect them of murdering locals. Would you imagine they would stoop to such? And this Mother you mention, how many sons does she have?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Yevna Galanodel - Wood Elf | Level 8 | Druid/Circle of Spores 6 - Ranger 2 - Ravnica Nyx - Satyr | Level 9 | Rouge/Swashbuckler 5 - Bard/Collage of Lore 4 - Lost Mine of Phandelver/Storm King's Thunder
Altani smiles, "Thank you very much Pente. I had full faith in your knowledge of these lands that you would know such culprits. I understand that they sound like a devious lot, however we suspect them of murdering locals. Would you imagine they would stoop to such? And this Mother you mention, how many sons does she have?"
The Bowyer's demeanor changes noticeably at the mention of murder, her smile dissapearing completely as she says,
"Murder, ehh. So you think Mother's boys might be behind the those recent lizardfolk killings? Huh... I'd just assumed it was those orcs, or worse yet, those cold-blooded yuan-ti.
I wouldn't put much past those little thugs or their mother come to think of it. Peat workers are a rough breed in general, and that bunch are rougher than most despite their size. Murdering townsfolk though... well, I guess... I mean, I just don't know. But they certainly make and use arrows like that one you're holding. And they match the description you mentioned, seeing as they're about that size and they all get about in black hooded, weather proof cloaks.
Heard they train their dogs for more than just hunting as well - word is they run some kind of fighting pit out at their place. Senseless and cruel sport in my opinion and not my kind of thing at all. It's illegal in Cragside where I'm from.
How many of them are there? They all work various shifts at the fields, so you never usually see them all about town at the same time, but I reckon there must be 6 or 7 of them. I only know one by name - Balcor. That red-haired little thug tried to intimidate me once into giving him a discount on my wares. Ha! Like that would ever bloody happen."
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
"Thank you Pente, you've been very helpful! We will come back when we need arrows for sure. I bet you have plenty of business after last night!"
Kestrell turns to the rest of the group. "Let's go! We better hurry if we want to go out to the peat bogs and get back before the show tonight."
Regaining something of her former demeanor, the hard-faced half-elf smiles at Kestrell, before saying as the group turns to leave,
"You're welcome, sugar. Business is good and all, especially with everyone all nervous about orcs and such. But you feel free to return anytime you like, honey. I don't normally give discounts, but Pente might just make an exception in your case.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Sorry, yes. She would head to the inn and get changed into her common clothes.
Once out the inn, she will to see if she can find a place (alleyway or something similar) that seems hidden...
Perception: 13
As Sylmeris approaches the Marsh Oak Inn, she sees the red-haired gnome toss a handful of flyers in the face of the moonelf warrior standing before the door, before the strange little performer capers and rolls off down the road to accost other townsfolk with his invitation. The armed and armoured woman merely glowers at the departing gnome before heading back inside alongside apron-clad Innkeeper, Myren. The only person inside who pays Sylmeris any attention is the innkeeper's teenage daughter Barella who smiles and murmers "Good morning" but otherwise lets the elven rogue go about her business.
Getting changed quickly, you easily finding a quiet, out of the way place alongside the Inn, near the establishment's bins and compost garden, from which to observe the town square and nearby streets. The smell of the nearby waste is only mildly off-putting, while the blue sky above grows slightly greyer as more and more clouds begin to appear, perhaps brought in by the growing breeze. Sylmeris emerges from the inn too late to witness Kestrell's magical display but does arrive in time to see the fletcher offer the spell caster a chair.
[OOC] What is Sylmeris looking for?
Once she finds the safety of privacy, with a graceful spin, and a grin of delight, Sylmeris would shapechange into that of an average-looking human man with similar build, a little shorter (so their clothes aren't misfitting) and go to look at this Circus Gaga!
Making loud noises of disgust at the smell as she makes her way back into the street, but now visibly excited, she trots on over to the directions the gnome said with eyes longing to filled with wondrous colours and sparkling delights of the circus.
Altani turns to Dewi, her expression one of understanding and kindness.
"If I get your plan, we could approach them about entering you into there fighting pit. It would allow us to get close and maybe take them unaware. But i would be worried with how many of these dogs they would be able to set against you. After all, they are clearly made for murder."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Yevna Galanodel - Wood Elf | Level 8 | Druid/Circle of Spores 6 - Ranger 2 - Ravnica Nyx - Satyr | Level 9 | Rouge/Swashbuckler 5 - Bard/Collage of Lore 4 - Lost Mine of Phandelver/Storm King's Thunder
Altani turns to Dewi, her expression one of understanding and kindness.
"If I get your plan, we could approach them about entering you into there fighting pit. It would allow us to get close and maybe take them unaware. But i would be worried with how many of these dogs they would be able to set against you. After all, they are clearly made for murder."
"Let's not over complicate things. We just want to discuss a few things with them, maybe ask them about the orc attack, maybe accuse them of murder...If things go sideways, well, we fought pretty good together last night. I bet we can do it again."
Kestrell looks around, "Hey, where did Sylmerillian go?"
Dewi shrugged, " Some of the dogs I could turn, others might be too damaged to understand....they are tiny people. Mazin could just throw them all a long way away.", she gave a lopsided grin at the mental image.
"Well then, if we are ready lets go pay Mother and Sons a visit. It would not surprise me at all of they are in cahoots with the orc's and yanti. It seems mighty coincidental that they have suddenly become so bold as to start murdering people around town. Either that or they have seen an opportunity and hope that the orc's will get the blame."
The centaur looks around, staring at each of them. "Are we ready?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Yevna Galanodel - Wood Elf | Level 8 | Druid/Circle of Spores 6 - Ranger 2 - Ravnica Nyx - Satyr | Level 9 | Rouge/Swashbuckler 5 - Bard/Collage of Lore 4 - Lost Mine of Phandelver/Storm King's Thunder
[OOG] Sorry, my bad. Read that as 70' for some reason.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
Pente takes the broken arrow from you hand, turning it over and examining it closely for some time before the experienced bowyer looks up and remarks,
"You've a keen eye, centaur. Yes, it is all of those things. I can tell you that it's also not one of my arrows. I prefer to use cedar, favouring its strength over the easier to find but weaker birch in these parts. I also prefer to use goose feathers over chicken feathers, as they provide better water resistence in my opinion.
As for who would make such arrows... well, there are plenty of poorer folk in these parts who would rather use cheaper substitutes than pay for my craftsmanship. Alas, without more information, I couldn't really hazard a guess as to who might have made this particular arrow."
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
Mazin will look up, suddenly realizing carrying a dead and dismembered body around town is probably not the best idea. "Ahh, yea. Good point. I will drop this off with the guards." He'll go and drop off the body with the guards and heads back.
Mazin will say "What other information do you need? Dewi saw them from a distance, if that helps. What was it, some cloaked individuals, smaller then her. They had a bunch of hounds with them. Does that sound like people around here that would make there own arrows like these?"
Altani nodes at Mazins words.
”Yes it is said they are small in stature. Do you know any others among the poorer folks in the area who have skills as a fletcher?”
Yevna Galanodel - Wood Elf | Level 8 | Druid/Circle of Spores 6 - Ranger 2 - Ravnica
Nyx - Satyr | Level 9 | Rouge/Swashbuckler 5 - Bard/Collage of Lore 4 - Lost Mine of Phandelver/Storm King's Thunder
Dropping the dismembered and mutilated body off with the unlucky guardsman who seems to be in charge of burning the dead orcs from last night's attack, Mazin is met with an enquiring eye and grimace as the sweaty man with the bloodstained hands says, "Gee, thanks. Must have missed this one in my sweep of the town. Just what I needed... another dead orc." The grumbling fellow adds the grisly corpse to the pyre that he's building.
---------------------------------------------------------
Returning to Pente's home and place of business, Mazin is at first greeted with a look of mild annoyance by the older woman, but that look turns into an expression of mild curiosity as the barbarian keeps speaking,
"Look, big fella. I don't know what you want me to say. Arrows can sometimes be distinctive things, true, but it's not like there aren't a dozen people in these parts who make their own. And before you ask, we don't put our names on them, neither. As I said...
What's that you said? Small folk you say, wearing hooded cloaks and running hounds? Well now, that does sound like it could be a few people I know of. A few nogoodniks that have poorer sense and too tight pockets on them to come to old Pente for stock."
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
Dewis eyes narrowed and she stared at the fletcher, " Their names? Is there exchange needed for your words?"
Dewi was getting frustrated, she wanted to bring the womans killers to justice but everything done within walls took so long.......
Turning back to speak to you, but only after giving Kestrell a smile that says the old woman was pleased to be of assistance, Pente *thumps* one calloused fist on her table and says triumphantly,
"Ha! Yup, that sounds like Mother's waste of space sons, alright. Small in stature and smaller still in decency or common sense. Though there's almost more of them than even those nasty hounds they breed. Most of that lot work over at the peat fields East of town and I seem to recall Mother's place being not too far from there either. Hope that helps!
Be careful if you're planning to visit that bunch though. Drunk or sober, Mother's tough as old wyvern leather and those boys of hers are a surly lot. And those hounds are a menace to boot. I ain't got nothing against halflings in general mind, but those are some mean little sons of *****es. Best watch your fingers and purses when talking with those little folk.
Now what do you say you buy some of Pente's fine arrows instead of just talking the morning away, ehh?"
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
Altani smiles, "Thank you very much Pente. I had full faith in your knowledge of these lands that you would know such culprits. I understand that they sound like a devious lot, however we suspect them of murdering locals. Would you imagine they would stoop to such? And this Mother you mention, how many sons does she have?"
Yevna Galanodel - Wood Elf | Level 8 | Druid/Circle of Spores 6 - Ranger 2 - Ravnica
Nyx - Satyr | Level 9 | Rouge/Swashbuckler 5 - Bard/Collage of Lore 4 - Lost Mine of Phandelver/Storm King's Thunder
Dewi looked to the East eager to end this....
"Thank you Pente, you've been very helpful! We will come back when we need arrows for sure. I bet you have plenty of business after last night!"
Kestrell turns to the rest of the group. "Let's go! We better hurry if we want to go out to the peat bogs and get back before the show tonight."
The Bowyer's demeanor changes noticeably at the mention of murder, her smile dissapearing completely as she says,
"Murder, ehh. So you think Mother's boys might be behind the those recent lizardfolk killings? Huh... I'd just assumed it was those orcs, or worse yet, those cold-blooded yuan-ti.
I wouldn't put much past those little thugs or their mother come to think of it. Peat workers are a rough breed in general, and that bunch are rougher than most despite their size. Murdering townsfolk though... well, I guess... I mean, I just don't know. But they certainly make and use arrows like that one you're holding. And they match the description you mentioned, seeing as they're about that size and they all get about in black hooded, weather proof cloaks.
Heard they train their dogs for more than just hunting as well - word is they run some kind of fighting pit out at their place. Senseless and cruel sport in my opinion and not my kind of thing at all. It's illegal in Cragside where I'm from.
How many of them are there? They all work various shifts at the fields, so you never usually see them all about town at the same time, but I reckon there must be 6 or 7 of them. I only know one by name - Balcor. That red-haired little thug tried to intimidate me once into giving him a discount on my wares. Ha! Like that would ever bloody happen."
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
Regaining something of her former demeanor, the hard-faced half-elf smiles at Kestrell, before saying as the group turns to leave,
"You're welcome, sugar. Business is good and all, especially with everyone all nervous about orcs and such. But you feel free to return anytime you like, honey. I don't normally give discounts, but Pente might just make an exception in your case.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
" A fighting pit? Where animals are forced to fight for two-leg amusement?", Dewis eyes turned positively murderous for a second.
She turned towards Mazin, " Perhaps you should enter your wolf into this torture pit?"
Once she finds the safety of privacy, with a graceful spin, and a grin of delight, Sylmeris would shapechange into that of an average-looking human man with similar build, a little shorter (so their clothes aren't misfitting) and go to look at this Circus Gaga!
Making loud noises of disgust at the smell as she makes her way back into the street, but now visibly excited, she trots on over to the directions the gnome said with eyes longing to filled with wondrous colours and sparkling delights of the circus.
Altani turns to Dewi, her expression one of understanding and kindness.
"If I get your plan, we could approach them about entering you into there fighting pit. It would allow us to get close and maybe take them unaware. But i would be worried with how many of these dogs they would be able to set against you. After all, they are clearly made for murder."
Yevna Galanodel - Wood Elf | Level 8 | Druid/Circle of Spores 6 - Ranger 2 - Ravnica
Nyx - Satyr | Level 9 | Rouge/Swashbuckler 5 - Bard/Collage of Lore 4 - Lost Mine of Phandelver/Storm King's Thunder
"Let's not over complicate things. We just want to discuss a few things with them, maybe ask them about the orc attack, maybe accuse them of murder...If things go sideways, well, we fought pretty good together last night. I bet we can do it again."
Kestrell looks around, "Hey, where did Sylmerillian go?"
Dewi shrugged, " Some of the dogs I could turn, others might be too damaged to understand....they are tiny people. Mazin could just throw them all a long way away.", she gave a lopsided grin at the mental image.
"Well then, if we are ready lets go pay Mother and Sons a visit. It would not surprise me at all of they are in cahoots with the orc's and yanti. It seems mighty coincidental that they have suddenly become so bold as to start murdering people around town. Either that or they have seen an opportunity and hope that the orc's will get the blame."
The centaur looks around, staring at each of them. "Are we ready?"
Yevna Galanodel - Wood Elf | Level 8 | Druid/Circle of Spores 6 - Ranger 2 - Ravnica
Nyx - Satyr | Level 9 | Rouge/Swashbuckler 5 - Bard/Collage of Lore 4 - Lost Mine of Phandelver/Storm King's Thunder
Dewi nodded.
"Ready."