"You know, the guard I spoke to said the same thing about the other villagers who were captured," Daffafle scratches her chin. "Yes, we should talk to the others to hear their stories. Hopefully they are willing to get to the bottom of this mystery as well."
“Hm. Will you be returning to your Hold then?” Bart says to Khazan
"Aye .." responds the dwarf in between one bite of pork knuckle and one of stuffed mushrooms. He swallows, takes a big gulp of dwarven ale and burps loudly.
"... well. Maybe later. There are more important things tae do right now. We have tae find that bandit and introduce her neck tae me axe."
He takes another bite of pork.
"What about ye? Going back tae where yer from?"
“Not sure. I think I’ve learned I can’t do this kind of work solo. I need... not just money, I need a lot of money.”
Khazan's finishes his meal, clean his mouth on one of his sleeves and lets out a massive belch. "I've no idea what're talking about. But. If we ever pass near my hold, I'll try tae hook ye up with a bank. They might help with yer ..eh, monetary deficiency."
“Oh no! Ha! I just realized that probably sounded like I needed a loan or something. No, what I need is a patron. I work in a library, and that library lost its funding, you see. There’s no direct monetary profit in investing in a library, so we need someone unusual. A philanthropist of some kind. I thought I might... draw attention to the library if I was able to do something outrageous enough, like fight crime bosses or monsters or something... sounds sorta stupid, now.”
As the night stretches with bellies full of food and the occasional drink, the party feels the weight of fatigue the intensity of the day left them. Eventually finding their separate beds in the inn, given priority due to their commendable actions. The rooms are simple, but grant comfy beds and fur rugs.
In Wulcrath and Khazan's room lies a rug of the hide of a black wolf and a fire already going with a scenic painting above the mantelpiece. An impressive sized bath to even fit the dragonborn.
Daffafleand Bart's is opposite with the cowhide rug in front of its fire, in the corner of the room is vase holding a large-leaf plant. The underside of the leaves glow ever slightly as an off-yellow. Their bath is made of a metal that's slightly warm.
Aazel's room is down the hall. While bare of furnishings and lacking a fireplace, it holds a large comfy bed and window. A shelf above the bed holds some books, the bedside table holds a lit lamp. A large cast iron bath is filled with steaming water, misty with scented salts that quickly remind of grassy fields. A quick inspection would reveal the bath has been enchanted to keep water hot and clean.
Daffafle would wake to the feeling of a thump on her chest. She would open her eyes to see Lucky peering at her before taking off. Around her is cave entrance once more, where she originally fell; still lacking colour, wind or anything, just like before. Her clothes on her return to be warm with a sickening amount of blood.
The halfling would look up to see Lucky land on the hand of her patron; the Raven Queen. The goddess sits upon a regal throne of a dark metal, carved of intricate patterns. The queen's attention is on the raven, but it is clear who she refers when she speaks. Her mouth barely moving, but her voice coming from all around, Death is clear, death is honest. She looks up to Daffafle, I hear your words; you fear the pact. But I may only repeat my words; clarity, honesty. I am only this. Now, heed my words: There are those who believe they can blur death's clarity without proper authority. Knowledge of necromancy has seeped into the village. Callings, not too long ago. If it is found, we can eradicate that knowledge and death can be true once more...
When Daffafle wakes up, she find a large black feather on her.
The party's sleep is warm and wholesome. Morning comes, calm with mist woven over the village and its fields. The inn is quietly active workers and guests getting ready for another day full of opportunities...
Picking up the feather, Daffafle instinctively checks her shirt, exhaling when she finds it’s not full of blood. She reminds herself she’s in the inn, then glances at the feather once more. “Necromancers,” she mutters.
Aazel wakes refreshed from a warm bath and a good nights sleep. He heads back to the common room and thanks the barkeep for the use of the facilities. He then takes a seat and keeps an eye out for Daffafle. It would be interesting to see what the halfling planned to do now. He also needed to figure out what he was going to do with these bandits on the loose taking people.
Wulcrath awakens from his sleep and goes about readying himself for the day ahead, relishing a few quiet moments in the bath before hopping out, getting himself dressed and heading downstairs and taking a seat near Aazel, finding him to be the most familiar person in the room at first glance.
He slides into a seat and finds himself a bit puzzled as to how to start a conversation or as to the groups intentions in detail, although he thinks he may have an idea...
As you go downstairs, the smell of cooked breakfast hits you and the morning sun pours through the windows. The grumpy landlord has been placed with a smiling round woman with tied loose bun and a chiming laugh.
The common room is no where near as busy as last night. The is the odd prisoner you recognise slumped over a meal, but most are chirpy guests.
Aazel, Wulcrathand Khazanon a central long table all to themselves. A wave good morning to them from the barkeep is followed by the appearance of a sharp half-elf man ready to serve...
“She wants me to help introduce some necromancers to the death they try to defy. They’re apparently living in this very town.”
Daffafle will head downstairs as well, and seeing the other three familiar faces, will join their table.
“Good morning, folks,” the halfling says as she sits, then lowers her voice, “Odd request; how would you all like to hunt down some necromancers in this village?” Lucky caws loudly, fluttering it’s wings.
"Six eggs, four sausages, two jugs of whatever juice ye have ,lots of bread ..and for my companions here .." Khazan lists his order to the half-elf when Daffafle joins the table.
“Err...not quite,” she glances at Lucky. “Only that they’re in the village, and they started the dark art fairly recently. I’m not sure if they’re doing it in secret, or if this has become part of the town’s culture.”
"But we do have a paladin on our side," Daffafle nods towards Aazel with a smile. "Certainly you and your holy order can detect the presence of the undead?"
"While technically, yes, I can at times sense the undead, It is a gift given by my studies, I still need to be fairly close to them. I am not going to stand in the middle of the village and just point them out. I think we may need to do a little footwork first. And necromancers, they deal with the undead but are not undead themselves. I may find something, but have the necromancer standing right on my shoulder unaware."Aazel turns to order some breakfast. "Just some simple porridge and juice if you don't mind."
"You know, the guard I spoke to said the same thing about the other villagers who were captured," Daffafle scratches her chin. "Yes, we should talk to the others to hear their stories. Hopefully they are willing to get to the bottom of this mystery as well."
“Not sure. I think I’ve learned I can’t do this kind of work solo. I need... not just money, I need a lot of money.”
Paladin - warforged - orange
Khazan's finishes his meal, clean his mouth on one of his sleeves and lets out a massive belch.
"I've no idea what're talking about. But. If we ever pass near my hold, I'll try tae hook ye up with a bank. They might help with yer ..eh, monetary deficiency."
“Oh no! Ha! I just realized that probably sounded like I needed a loan or something. No, what I need is a patron. I work in a library, and that library lost its funding, you see. There’s no direct monetary profit in investing in a library, so we need someone unusual. A philanthropist of some kind. I thought I might... draw attention to the library if I was able to do something outrageous enough, like fight crime bosses or monsters or something... sounds sorta stupid, now.”
Paladin - warforged - orange
As the night stretches with bellies full of food and the occasional drink, the party feels the weight of fatigue the intensity of the day left them. Eventually finding their separate beds in the inn, given priority due to their commendable actions. The rooms are simple, but grant comfy beds and fur rugs.
In Wulcrath and Khazan's room lies a rug of the hide of a black wolf and a fire already going with a scenic painting above the mantelpiece. An impressive sized bath to even fit the dragonborn.
Daffafle and Bart's is opposite with the cowhide rug in front of its fire, in the corner of the room is vase holding a large-leaf plant. The underside of the leaves glow ever slightly as an off-yellow. Their bath is made of a metal that's slightly warm.
Aazel's room is down the hall. While bare of furnishings and lacking a fireplace, it holds a large comfy bed and window. A shelf above the bed holds some books, the bedside table holds a lit lamp. A large cast iron bath is filled with steaming water, misty with scented salts that quickly remind of grassy fields. A quick inspection would reveal the bath has been enchanted to keep water hot and clean.
Black-feathered nest (Daffafle's dream): ((OOC knowledge only!))
Daffafle would wake to the feeling of a thump on her chest. She would open her eyes to see Lucky peering at her before taking off. Around her is cave entrance once more, where she originally fell; still lacking colour, wind or anything, just like before. Her clothes on her return to be warm with a sickening amount of blood.
The halfling would look up to see Lucky land on the hand of her patron; the Raven Queen. The goddess sits upon a regal throne of a dark metal, carved of intricate patterns. The queen's attention is on the raven, but it is clear who she refers when she speaks. Her mouth barely moving, but her voice coming from all around, Death is clear, death is honest. She looks up to Daffafle, I hear your words; you fear the pact. But I may only repeat my words; clarity, honesty. I am only this. Now, heed my words: There are those who believe they can blur death's clarity without proper authority. Knowledge of necromancy has seeped into the village. Callings, not too long ago. If it is found, we can eradicate that knowledge and death can be true once more...
When Daffafle wakes up, she find a large black feather on her.
The party's sleep is warm and wholesome. Morning comes, calm with mist woven over the village and its fields. The inn is quietly active workers and guests getting ready for another day full of opportunities...
Picking up the feather, Daffafle instinctively checks her shirt, exhaling when she finds it’s not full of blood. She reminds herself she’s in the inn, then glances at the feather once more. “Necromancers,” she mutters.
Bart takes a leaf from the glowing plant in the room for examination and a souvenir.
Paladin - warforged - orange
“Bart, just how do you feel about killing the undead?” the halfling says, eyeing Lucky. “Asking for a friend.”
“Like many things, I’ve never done it, but I’m always up for trying new things... I think I won’t like the answer, but: why do you ask?”
Bart looks at where Daffafle is staring, and his expression drops, becoming a glare at the bird. “Oh it’s like that.”
Paladin - warforged - orange
Aazel wakes refreshed from a warm bath and a good nights sleep. He heads back to the common room and thanks the barkeep for the use of the facilities. He then takes a seat and keeps an eye out for Daffafle. It would be interesting to see what the halfling planned to do now. He also needed to figure out what he was going to do with these bandits on the loose taking people.
Wulcrath awakens from his sleep and goes about readying himself for the day ahead, relishing a few quiet moments in the bath before hopping out, getting himself dressed and heading downstairs and taking a seat near Aazel, finding him to be the most familiar person in the room at first glance.
He slides into a seat and finds himself a bit puzzled as to how to start a conversation or as to the groups intentions in detail, although he thinks he may have an idea...
Khazan wakes up and heads downstair, after taking a bath.
He notices the others sitting all at the same table and joins them.
As you go downstairs, the smell of cooked breakfast hits you and the morning sun pours through the windows. The grumpy landlord has been placed with a smiling round woman with tied loose bun and a chiming laugh.
The common room is no where near as busy as last night. The is the odd prisoner you recognise slumped over a meal, but most are chirpy guests.
Aazel, Wulcrath and Khazan on a central long table all to themselves. A wave good morning to them from the barkeep is followed by the appearance of a sharp half-elf man ready to serve...
“She wants me to help introduce some necromancers to the death they try to defy. They’re apparently living in this very town.”
Daffafle will head downstairs as well, and seeing the other three familiar faces, will join their table.
“Good morning, folks,” the halfling says as she sits, then lowers her voice, “Odd request; how would you all like to hunt down some necromancers in this village?” Lucky caws loudly, fluttering it’s wings.
"Six eggs, four sausages, two jugs of whatever juice ye have ,lots of bread ..and for my companions here .." Khazan lists his order to the half-elf when Daffafle joins the table.
"Good morning shorty"
"Sounds dangeours. I'm in. But why are we whispering?"
"Because we don't want to warn said necromancers if they are among us," she replies, ignoring the height reference.
“Quick question: did your bird tell you how to find them?” Bart says sitting down.
Paladin - warforged - orange
“Err...not quite,” she glances at Lucky. “Only that they’re in the village, and they started the dark art fairly recently. I’m not sure if they’re doing it in secret, or if this has become part of the town’s culture.”
"But we do have a paladin on our side," Daffafle nods towards Aazel with a smile. "Certainly you and your holy order can detect the presence of the undead?"
"While technically, yes, I can at times sense the undead, It is a gift given by my studies, I still need to be fairly close to them. I am not going to stand in the middle of the village and just point them out. I think we may need to do a little footwork first. And necromancers, they deal with the undead but are not undead themselves. I may find something, but have the necromancer standing right on my shoulder unaware." Aazel turns to order some breakfast. "Just some simple porridge and juice if you don't mind."