Sir Aldon, "I wouldn't say that I have business at the forge, not in the same way as you do. I am heading that way because I heard that there were ancient weapons at the forge, just waiting for a hero to come and claim them. So I came. As for a squire, I don't really need one. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."
Rowena seems to smile and go a bit giddy at the mention of ancient weapons, "oh really, I don't much care for or a student of arcane lore or history so I wouldn't know about such but I do enjoy a good weapon!" Hefting her maul up, "this mundane dwarven maul has served me well enough and it does have some sentimental value to me. Still, I suppose if a trove of magical weapons exists down there I could use something more fitting in its place."
She gives a little groan as she thinks about her betrothed, "still I really must find some sign of Humphrey as proof he is dead, hopefully, so he is still my priority... dead or alive... through a side expedition, in addition, is more than acceptable to me."
Then she frowns, "no squire, that is indeed sad news, how is your cooking skills then sir knight?"
Flintshire Hilltopple, As they walk out to meet up with Aldon and Rowena Flint yells at them with a sly grin on his face, "ARE YOU READY TO CRACK SOME SKULLS AND GET SOME TREASURE?"
Rowena turns to strange little Halfling who had just come upon them, "are you volunteering your skull then little fellow? And what do you know of treasure? But most importantly, on a scale of one to ten, how do you rate your cooking skills?"
"I am the Master and Keyholder of Nashbea Tower, my knowledge of the arcane knows no bounds. Be careful with your tongue, Lady Rowena. Not everyone serves you or is intimidated by your harsh words. But if you must know, I am a master of the arcane. My powers of the arcane know no bounds. I also am a great chef. But I will not cook for you, or any of you. I am no KP, I am a servant of the arcane. The most valuable treasure in the multiverse!"
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"...Debts must always be paid, sometimes in more than blood and gold. But this is Ordo Ursa," Ren places his hand on Erakas's chest, right where the Dragonborn's heart is. "Right here. And it always has been and always will be. Don't ever forget that. Because I won't."
Rentaro Caeli- Air Genasi Mystic: Order of the Nomad (Storm King's Thunder) #TeamMod
As the Halfing talks to her, Rowena politely nods her head as she fidgets with her bodice, "yes, yes... I see, how absolutely fascinating." When he finishes she smiles down at him, "you are just so adorable my good fellow but I don't see where this venture calls for a gardener... I am dreadfully sorry, even one as highly skilled as yourself... Hedgemaster of Nashberry Tower you say? Most impressive, but not to worry, I like you... so do feel free to tag along. I have no objections."
Rowena then turns to Ser Aldon and whispers, "whatever is a Nashberry, I am unfamiliar with that fruit... but it does sound delicious?"
"Yes, Ser Aldon we should but I worry that they do not grow in this region. This Flint has a rather mysterious and exotic air about him don't you think? I am determined that once we are done with our business at the Forge to ask my father to offer Flint a position. I would love to secure a place for him at the family estate, we could use a talented gardener who is capable of fashioning hedges and shrubbery into those adorable hedge sculptures, have you seen those? Like living works of art..."
Hearing the dwarf speak to her, Rowena turns from Ser Aldon to the dwarf trying her level best to be polite and not wrinkle up her nose at him, "good for you my dear fellow, then perhaps we should promote you to the front of the line, how does that sound?"
Starting to get a better picture of the situation Rowena politely nods, a little angry with herself for being so hard on the poor dear before, "I see, of course, but I was thinking along the lines of you being skilled with fire that you could be the party's torchbearer and firestarter, a respected and honored position my good fellow and when the fighting comes you can stand behind myself and Ser Aldon playing your pipes to inspire us on to greater glory. Unless you have another suggestion regarding how best utilize your talents especially with what are able to do with fire? After all, if our venture is going to be successful it will I gather come down to us all learning to cooperate. Something I need to improve on. So for what is worth, I apologize for being so short with you before."
Iroona steps out into the morning/afternoon/evening air, and takes a deep breath, stretching prettily. "So, does anyone know how long a walk this is going to be to the Stone Tooth?" She sets off gamely, heading north.
So the little merry band of misfits gather together then and head northward towards The Stone Tooth.
As you travel north from the mining town of Blasingdell, you pass through brooding pine forests and deep vales. From where you stand now, you catch sight of a tall, steep hill that rises to a prominent bare knob of rock — the Stone Tooth. A thin spire of smoke rises from some unseen point high on the hill’s slopes, and you can make out a steep, narrow road or track that runs back and forth across the face of the mountainside.
"Or attack us and end their lives upon our weapons, be wary, stay behind me Lady Iroona I'll protect you if our group is set upon by bandits or beasts" Slate shoots Iroona a smile before looking back to the hill trying to decide on the best path up the hill.
Iroona nods, smiling back openly, there's a lot of this sort of thing in the stories. "Of course, perhaps you and Lady Rowena should lead. But, she shouldn't talk to the people first... yes? Maybe Sir Aldon, you can keep her... company?"
The petite lady stares up at the plume of smoke and groans, "I absolutely without a doubt despise the outdoor... hiking and roughing it. I am inclined to be as hopeful as our dear Lady Iroona if there is some helpful soul about to give directions. Perhaps a quaint secluded mountain inn for romantic travelers looking to get away from it all awaits us. The smoke coming from barbequing split-roast meat... a nice cut of veal perhaps calling to weary travelers such as ourselves. What do think mighty dwarf, master of fire, what secrets does the smoke whisper to you of the fire itself and those who have made it?"
Rowena scowls at Lady Iroona, "and what is that supposed to mean... that I shouldn't talk to people first? I will have you know that I am a talented and natural diplomat, everyone loves me!"
Not much. He looks at the (assumingly not cloudy/raining) sky. manmade. No natural fire sources. Likely wood or something, not oil or wax. Big fire, but not much. Likely a campfire. Nonmagic, Probably.