Dahvik's cheese has long since disappeared, and he now uses the last of his bread to sop up the last bit of his stew. He seems completely absorbed with his meal. When he finishes, he pushes his bowl away and wipes his hands. "Thank you for the meal," he says to the young cleric. "And the accomodations. I look forward to starting out in the morning." He pauses for a moment before voicing his opinion on the plan. "Ellara's right - we'd get better clues from the boy. But Hannah's situation is more urgent. Arnold is safe, for now. Who knows what might be happening to the girl?" He rises. "Is there anything you need from me before I retire?"
Mara grunts thoughtfully at the others’ thoughts. “I need to go to the Temple of the Earthmother.” She nods to Father Cadfrey, “If it’s all the same I would prefer this money you offer for my room to be given to me.”. Looking at the innkeeper or tavern girl, he says, “I want to buy vegetables, fruit, water, and dried meat for the road. I would like to stay in the stables.” Regardless if Father Cadfrey agrees or not, Mara will leave towards the Temple of Chauntea. “All are welcome there, any of you can join me. Otherwise, until we meet in the first light in the morrow.”
Mara waits for her food and supplies (if Cadfrey agrees) and heads to the temple.
[ OOC: The cost of each room was 7 sp, if you want to pocket it. You can buy food rations at the lady luck itself. Each day worth of food rations costs you 5 sp, and it is basically the same bread, dried fruit, vegetables, cheese, dried sausage bread and water. ]
Mara leaves the Lady Luck and crosses the market squares, headed towards the temple of Chauntea, here called the Harvest House. The market boots are being disassembled as the afternoon starts giving way to the evening. The noise and traffic from the day are starting to subdue. On the streets and in the market square, the only busy people are now those who are wrapping up the day's business and heading back to their homes or to a tavern for a drink and a meal.
Mara would recognize a temple of her faith anywhere, even without looking at the holy symbol painted on top of the main entrance. The walls of the building are covered in green ivy and the entrance is adorned with flowers. Although the building itself is a two story construction, you spot the tip of threes growing from what you assume is an inner courtyard. In the entrance hall of the Harvest House, more plants an flowers are growing from large pots and the air smells of forest. Mara is immediatly greeted by an acolite, a young male halfling, wearing simple robes adorned with the symbols and motives of the Earthmother: "Good evening...oh! My apologies syster, I did not see you where of our faith. Please, be welcome. May the Lady grant you fruitful harvests. What brings you here tonight?"
The Lady Luck starts to get busy as soldiers and some of the merchants come in looking for some of the famous tavern's mead. More and more people join in to each toast to "those who have fallen before us!". It still sure must not be the busiest evening at the tavern and the noise will not annoy you if you plan on retiring early to your rooms.
Mara grunts thoughtfully at the others’ thoughts. “I need to go to the Temple of the Earthmother.” She nods to Father Cadfrey, “If it’s all the same I would prefer this money you offer for my room to be given to me.”. Looking at the innkeeper or tavern girl, he says, “I want to buy vegetables, fruit, water, and dried meat for the road. I would like to stay in the stables.” Regardless if Father Cadfrey agrees or not, Mara will leave towards the Temple of Chauntea. “All are welcome there, any of you can join me. Otherwise, until we meet in the first light in the morrow.”
Mara waits for her food and supplies (if Cadfrey agrees) and heads to the temple.
[ OOC: The cost of each room was 7 sp, if you want to pocket it. You can buy food rations at the lady luck itself. Each day worth of food rations costs you 5 sp, and it is basically the same bread, dried fruit, vegetables, cheese, dried sausage bread and water. ]
Mara leaves the Lady Luck and crosses the market squares, headed towards the temple of Chauntea, here called the Harvest House. The market boots are being disassembled as the afternoon starts giving way to the evening. The noise and traffic from the day are starting to subdue. On the streets and in the market square, the only busy people are now those who are wrapping up the day's business and heading back to their homes or to a tavern for a drink and a meal.
Mara would recognize a temple of her faith anywhere, even without looking at the holy symbol painted on top of the main entrance. The walls of the building are covered in green ivy and the entrance is adorned with flowers. Although the building itself is a two story construction, you spot the tip of threes growing from what you assume is an inner courtyard. In the entrance hall of the Harvest House, more plants an flowers are growing from large pots and the air smells of forest. Mara is immediatly greeted by an acolite, a young male halfling, wearing simple robes adorned with the symbols and motives of the Earthmother: "Good evening...oh! My apologies syster, I did not see you where of our faith. Please, be welcome. May the Lady grant you fruitful harvests. What brings you here tonight?"
Mara
“Thank you, young brother,” Mara says with a tap to her head and chest. “I’ve been away from this a while,” pointing at the buildings and vista of civilization before her. “Do you have a natural place I can rest tonight? I am long on the road and am in need of her.” Mara waits for a moment before adding, a “How fares the temple of late?”
"We always have room to spare for the champions of the Lady of the Harvest. Come, follow me, I believe we have a room this way" The young halfling says as he leads Mara across the entrance room and out in an inner courtyard, lush with plants. A tall pine tree grows from a hole in the pavement in the center of the courtyard. Plants grow in more pots, orderly placed around this open space. An simple wooden altar sits in front of the pine tree. Delicately carved in it is the holy symbol of Chauntea. "The temple is faring well, sister. There is never lack of faithful people in a farming community such as this. Ah, here."
You reach a door, which the halfling opens and leads you in. Inside is a bed, with a small bedside table on the side, a wardrobe and a table. A window opens on the other side of the room, giving view on the lights of the ducal castle. Two big plants grow on each side of it from wooden pots. Along the wall there are shelves; they are empty except for some candles. On the table, there is a basin with some water in it and some linen towels are neatly folded on the side of it. On the bedside table there is a jug of water and a wooden glass and a candle-holder with a new candle nested on it. "Ah...I hope the room is to your liking? I am afraid we don't have much guests here, all the rooms are similar. I sleep in the one next door, if you need amnything doring the night." He goes to the bedside table and lits up the candle, then lits up a coupe of the candles on the shelves. Their soft, warm light envelopes the room in a comforting way. "I believe Priestess Merovyna is in her room. Shall I let her know that you would like to speak to her?"
"We always have room to spare for the champions of the Lady of the Harvest. Come, follow me, I believe we have a room this way" The young halfling says as he leads Mara across the entrance room and out in an inner courtyard, lush with plants. A tall pine tree grows from a hole in the pavement in the center of the courtyard. Plants grow in more pots, orderly placed around this open space. An simple wooden altar sits in front of the pine tree. Delicately carved in it is the holy symbol of Chauntea. "The temple is faring well, sister. There is never lack of faithful people in a farming community such as this. Ah, here."
You reach a door, which the halfling opens and leads you in. Inside is a bed, with a small bedside table on the side, a wardrobe and a table. A window opens on the other side of the room, giving view on the lights of the ducal castle. Two big plants grow on each side of it from wooden pots. Along the wall there are shelves; they are empty except for some candles. On the table, there is a basin with some water in it and some linen towels are neatly folded on the side of it. On the bedside table there is a jug of water and a wooden glass and a candle-holder with a new candle nested on it. "Ah...I hope the room is to your liking? I am afraid we don't have much guests here, all the rooms are similar. I sleep in the one next door, if you need amnything doring the night." He goes to the bedside table and lits up the candle, then lits up a coupe of the candles on the shelves. Their soft, warm light envelopes the room in a comforting way. "I believe Priestess Merovyna is in her room. Shall I let her know that you would like to speak to her?"
Mara
Mara looks over the room and nods. “This will be sufficient. I thank you brother. Yes, I would like to speak with her.”
Once all the introductions and conversation is over Father Cadfrey retires to his room. He makes and entry into his new journal with all days happenings, recording everyone's name and a short description, all for Candlekeep's records. He will end the night as he always does, with prayer then settle down in his bed for some rest.
Meanwhile, back at the Lady Luck, the rogue has retreated to his room. Half an hour later, a grimy old beggar with a twisted lip sits with his tin cup just outside the open doors of the tavern, selling matchsticks. He rocks back and forth, not seeming quite all there. He responds to a copper or a request somewhat randomly. He'll call out "Blessings of Tymora upon thee!", or just as likely give a bit of original poetry in the High Elven style, or a recipe to a home remedy for acne, or an Uthgart battlecry, or a verse or two of a popular drinking song. A bit of silver might get something more, like a bit of dramatic prose or a poetic story [OOC: think Noyes's The Highwayman or Coleridge's Kubla Khan]. Between 'customers', he just sits rocking absently, but he's furtively straining his ears to catch every scrap of gossip, whether or not it seems to be immediately related to the investigation.
Once the patrons leave and the conversation has died, Dahvik willslip around back to the stable, where he'll wash himself and change into the regular clothes he stashed in a safe spot, then make his way back in and up to his room to jot down what he has heard.
Mara looks over the room and nods. “This will be sufficient. I thank you brother. Yes, I would like to speak with her.”
The young halfling bows and leaves you to your room. After a short while, Mara hears a gentle knock at her door. As she opens, Mara finds herself face to face with a tall, slender lady, with long white hair.
"Good evening, child. I am Merovyna." She gently kisses Mara on the cheeks. The priestess looks old, probably in her seventies, but radiates a great strength of spirit. She is wearing a green gown and a symbol of Chauntea is hanging around her neck.
"Welcome to our temple. What brings you to Daggerford? Ah...forgive my manners. Would you like something to eat? You look fresh from the road, my dear."
Mara looks over the room and nods. “This will be sufficient. I thank you brother. Yes, I would like to speak with her.”
The young halfling bows and leaves you to your room. After a short while, Mara hears a gentle knock at her door. As she opens, Mara finds herself face to face with a tall, slender lady, with long white hair.
"Good evening, child. I am Merovyna." She gently kisses Mara on the cheeks. The priestess looks old, probably in her seventies, but radiates a great strength of spirit. She is wearing a green gown and a symbol of Chauntea is hanging around her neck.
"Welcome to our temple. What brings you to Daggerford? Ah...forgive my manners. Would you like something to eat? You look fresh from the road, my dear."
Mara
"Sister," Mara says with a slight nod. "I have food enough and water but thank you." She pulls her trident off and begins to take her things off, moving to the washbin while continuing to talk to Merovyna. "We are to meet Sherlen in the morning. This business in Potter is disturbing to state the obvious. Wholesale and wanton cruelty is anathema to us and having gone through it, I am more resolved than ever to root it out and destroy it. What more can you tell me of these strange blights on the natural cycles of the Mother? I understand you have Arnold here. I would speak with him or at least observe him, though I am sure you have done both. Perhaps you can offer more insight than I could get from him. Can you aid a sister in need?" Mara finishes washing and looksintensely into Merovyna's eyes, neither scared nor deferent to her authority. "We are to investigate in Potter and Gillian's Hill. The more I know, the better we are able to fulfill the Earth Mother's will."
Meanwhile, back at the Lady Luck, the rogue has retreated to his room. Half an hour later, a grimy old beggar with a twisted lip sits with his tin cup just outside the open doors of the tavern, selling matchsticks. He rocks back and forth, not seeming quite all there. He responds to a copper or a request somewhat randomly. He'll call out "Blessings of Tymora upon thee!", or just as likely give a bit of original poetry in the High Elven style, or a recipe to a home remedy for acne, or an Uthgart battlecry, or a verse or two of a popular drinking song. A bit of silver might get something more, like a bit of dramatic prose or a poetic story [OOC: think Noyes's The Highwayman or Coleridge's Kubla Khan]. Between 'customers', he just sits rocking absently, but he's furtively straining his ears to catch every scrap of gossip, whether or not it seems to be immediately related to the investigation.
Once the patrons leave and the conversation has died, Dahvik willslip around back to the stable, where he'll wash himself and change into the regular clothes he stashed in a safe spot, then make his way back in and up to his room to jot down what he has heard.
Roll me a Deception, a Performance and a Perception checks
"Sister," Mara says with a slight nod. "I have food enough and water but thank you." She pulls her trident off and begins to take her things off, moving to the washbin while continuing to talk to Merovyna. "We are to meet Sherlen in the morning. This business in Potter is disturbing to state the obvious. Wholesale and wanton cruelty is anathema to us and having gone through it, I am more resolved than ever to root it out and destroy it. What more can you tell me of these strange blights on the natural cycles of the Mother? I understand you have Arnold here. I would speak with him or at least observe him, though I am sure you have done both. Perhaps you can offer more insight than I could get from him. Can you aid a sister in need?" Mara finishes washing and looksintensely into Merovyna's eyes, neither scared nor deferent to her authority. "We are to investigate in Potter and Gillian's Hill. The more I know, the better we are able to fulfill the Earth Mother's will."
Merovyna nods, and you realize she must be tired. Not from the day, but it seems like the troubles you are speaking of are slowly wearing her down. "I thought that was what brought you to town. Indeed these are troubled times, but I have every confidence we will come through, as we always do, following the teaching of patience and nurturing of the Earthmother. Captain Sherlen and many other members of the City Council have all intention of do everything in our power to fight this affliction, but our resources are being stretched ever more thin. I am sure you also heard of the troubles with the Lizardfolk to the West? Unfortunately that kind of threat warrants immediate attention of the Captain and, I am afraid, good part of our town militia. It is understandable, but this will mean our search efforts will come to an halt. If you are here to help, anything you can do will surely be welcome. I am afraid I don't know much about Gillian's Hill, save that a girl has disappeared and her family is suffering greatly from it. I don't know if Hannah's disappearance is connected to Arnold's tragedy. I don't think it is."
She pauses, and sits down on the bed.
"You are correct, Arnold is here. We have tended to his body, he wasn't really injured when he was found on the road to Daggerford. He is fine now, he is no physical danger anymore. As for the rest...He eats very little, sleeps even less and when he does, he has nightmares. He wakes up screaming and crying...we will do everything we can, with the help of Chauntea, to help him grow out of his great pain, though I cannot say how long it will take.
I can tell you his story, if you like. You will be the judge about whether or not you need to speak to him or not. They came by night. All he remembers is to be awaken by sounds of some commotion from the living room. He said it sounded like his father being attacked by a big dog or a wolf. He remembers his mother hurrying in his bedroom, urging him to get up and to escape from the window. He told us he heard is father screaming let her go! You filthy beasts, let her go!"
While she tells Mara this story, Merovyna is holding in her hand the symbol of Chauntea at from her neck.
"'She' could be Arnold's sister, Avelina, he doesn't know what happened to her, but unfortunately, I cannot imagine a lot of different scenarios for her. Arnold and his mom started to run from the house, she holding his hand as she kept telling him Keep running Arnold, don't turn back!
He then remembers hearing high pitch voices, yelling and cackling behind them. Keep running my son, I will meet you at the road! he remembers hearing. And he kept running. The mom must have staid behind, trying to slow down what was pursuing them. He remember her screams...either Arnold fully believed that he would have meet his family at the road or he was too terrified to turn back and see what was going on, because he just kept running. All night."
Merovyna looks out the window at the lights of the ducal castle. She seems glad to have finished her story, since she lets go of her holy symbol.
"He was found on the Trade Way the day after. He must have collapsed from the strain and the fear. A trader's caravan brought him here. This was three days ago.
The Captain seems to be sure it was a goblin raiding band. They are known to...train wolves to their service"
It is obvious by the way she says "train" that this is not the term she would use to best describe the relationship between goblins and wolves.
"Unfortunately goblins and bandits are not uncommon along the Trade Way, and Potter has next to no defenses. Captain Sherlen immediately sent some scouts to investigate the farm and track down the attackers, but they haven't reported back yet, and she fears the worst. Fortunately no more attacks have been reported in Potter, but whoever had family or friend in Daggerford came here to find refuge and safety."
She sighs, stands up from the bed and looks at Mara.
"Do you still feel you need to talk to Arnold? I would ask you to refrain from doing so, but I know you would be gentle. We told him to try to sleep, though I guess he is still lying awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He thinks he hasn't been brave enough, that he should have protected her mom and sister, that his dad told him he was the young man of the family now...We told him none of this was his fault, and that his dad would have wanted him to survive, but as you can imagine, it will take time for him to see the truth of that, if ever he will."
Dahvik must be more tired than he though he was. The patrons of the tavern seem to be outright offended by his stories. They usually work in a tavern, people find them funny! But from the looks he receives, Dahvik realises he must have misjudged the characters of tonight's clientele, and they seem to find them a tiny bit too bawdy.
Fast of wits, Dahvik is not discouraged and decides to give a try to poetry, clearly more like it for tonight's patrons.
Maybe the ale he drank earlier was stronger than the taste let suggest, or maybe it's just not the his night. Whatever the reason, Dahvik seems to be forgetting one every two lines of the poems and songs he tries. At this point the patrons seem to be very annoyed by his very presence, although nobody is outright aggressive against him. Even the innkeep starts eyeing him with suspicion.
Ashamed with himself, not quite sure what the heck is wrong with him tonight, his mind busy thinking about the next trick up his sleeve, Dahvik cannot really pick up any interesting conversation from the people in the tavern. Only some meaningless chattering about this year's promising weather for the summer, a good recipe for trout and a stupid conversation about whether gnomes were just fat halflings or very thin dwarves.
A good night sleep is probably just the thing for Dahvik tonight.
Rough. No, rough doesn't even begin to describe it. A disaster.
Dahvik splashes his face with water again, having finally gotten that last bit of plaster off his lip. He hasn't had a night that bad in months. Maybe years. Not since...that night he had to stand in for Ander. At least then he had had an excuse. But not tonight. Tonight was just plain wretched. He grabs a towel and starts to pat his face dry but pauses, hunched over the basin on the washstand in his room.
She's still there. Her nameless face is buried in the bundle at the foot of the bed, but still she mocks him. What did you expect?
"I had a bad night," he argues aloud. "It happens. But I'm still Dahvik Aloro. I can still be anybody."
No, you can't. You're somebody now. You can't be just anybody.
Scowling darkly, Dahvik drops his towel beside the basin. "Great. Now I'm arguing with inanimate objects. And I thought the night couldn't get worse." Frustrated and rattled, he throws himself onto the bed. He makes himself as comfortable as he can, shutting his eyes tight against the face that burns in his mind.
Mara listens to the sister's words, ruminating on what she has said. "Thank you for your forthrightness, sister. I have more to ask of you. First, my own holy symbol was taken from me and I need a replacement." Mara's eyes harden for a moment, remembering the circumstances that eventually brought her to Daggerford. "Second, I do want to see Arnold. As you yourself know, words spoken by another have more impact coming from the source rather than the telegram, so to speak. I will be gentle. I would also ask you if you can spare some holy water for the journey ahead - I have a feeling I will be in need of it..."
In her half-undressed form, Mara cuts an imposing figure. Years of work in the fields combined with training has sculpted her figure into a finely honed tool - or weapon - that most would do well to avoid. "I ask that, if you wish to observe, that you do only that."
"You can take mine" Merovyna takes his holy symbol from her neck, walks to Mara and puts it at hers. It is clear from her eyes and posture that she will not take no for an answer. "I will get another later. This one stayed with me for a long time and it always reminded me of the teaching of the Earthmother. I have it since I became part of the City Council. I always thought, despite the politics and nonsense, that my purpose there was to keep the people of Daggerford safe. It's only fitting that it comes with you now, to continue this task."
The symbol is a medallion made of steel. Carved in it, clearly by the hand of a very skilled metal-worker, is a blooming rose in a sunburst wreath of grain. "At the time of my nomination in the city council, the other priests of the temple had it made from the steel head of a plough. May it show you the way, as it did to me."
With a sigh, she continues "Very well. Follow me." and she leads Mara out of her room, up a staircase and along a corridor. Out of some of the doors you pass, you hear the low voices of some priests and acolytes reciting their end-of-day prayers. Otherwise the temple is peaceful and filled with the smell of the numerous plants that are grown in the building. Merovyna stops in front of a door and gently opens it, gesturing Mara to wait outside while she checks on Arnold.
"Arnold, my dear. You are awake? Can't sleep tonight either, can you?" Merovyna is speaking with a low, soft voice, almost as if she was speaking to a scared pet. "Listen, I know it's late, but there is someone here to meet you. She is a mighty paladin of Chauntea, a real-world hero, you see? Would you like to let her in and talk to her for just a minute?"
After a short while, Merovyna goes back to the door and lets Mara in "Come in, child. Arnold, this is Mara."
Sitting up in the bed, is a little boy of no more than eight years of age, with blond hair and green eyes. He is looking at Mara and Merovyna with no clear expression on his face. The room, which is similar to Mara's, are signs of a longer term stay and of the gentle care of the priestesses and priests of the temple: clothes for the next day are neatly folded on a chair by the desk, on which Mara sees books of fairytales and other stories. Another chair is placed next to the bed and some wooden toys and stuffed puppets are placed on the shelves around the room. Candles have been lit on the bedside table and throw their soft light on the face of this boy, a face that has known pain, has cried and that now is too tired and exhausted to grieve anymore.
[OOC: If you want to speak with him, you can write your piece and give me a Persuasion check]
Dahvik Aloro
Dahvik's cheese has long since disappeared, and he now uses the last of his bread to sop up the last bit of his stew. He seems completely absorbed with his meal. When he finishes, he pushes his bowl away and wipes his hands. "Thank you for the meal," he says to the young cleric. "And the accomodations. I look forward to starting out in the morning." He pauses for a moment before voicing his opinion on the plan. "Ellara's right - we'd get better clues from the boy. But Hannah's situation is more urgent. Arnold is safe, for now. Who knows what might be happening to the girl?" He rises. "Is there anything you need from me before I retire?"
Father Cadfrey
"Yes" he says: "My thinking exactly. The girl, Hannah. is still missing and her case has an air of immediacy to it."
He pauses then says
"I think the Captain of the Guard will have some input on what we do as well."
With that Father Cadfrey will get up.
"I need to do some study and pray for the night. I will bid you pleasant dreams till then."
Father Cadfrey will agree to follow through with Mara's request.
[ OOC: The cost of each room was 7 sp, if you want to pocket it. You can buy food rations at the lady luck itself. Each day worth of food rations costs you 5 sp, and it is basically the same bread, dried fruit, vegetables, cheese, dried sausage bread and water. ]
Mara leaves the Lady Luck and crosses the market squares, headed towards the temple of Chauntea, here called the Harvest House. The market boots are being disassembled as the afternoon starts giving way to the evening. The noise and traffic from the day are starting to subdue. On the streets and in the market square, the only busy people are now those who are wrapping up the day's business and heading back to their homes or to a tavern for a drink and a meal.
Mara would recognize a temple of her faith anywhere, even without looking at the holy symbol painted on top of the main entrance. The walls of the building are covered in green ivy and the entrance is adorned with flowers. Although the building itself is a two story construction, you spot the tip of threes growing from what you assume is an inner courtyard. In the entrance hall of the Harvest House, more plants an flowers are growing from large pots and the air smells of forest. Mara is immediatly greeted by an acolite, a young male halfling, wearing simple robes adorned with the symbols and motives of the Earthmother: "Good evening...oh! My apologies syster, I did not see you where of our faith. Please, be welcome. May the Lady grant you fruitful harvests. What brings you here tonight?"
The Lady Luck starts to get busy as soldiers and some of the merchants come in looking for some of the famous tavern's mead. More and more people join in to each toast to "those who have fallen before us!". It still sure must not be the busiest evening at the tavern and the noise will not annoy you if you plan on retiring early to your rooms.
Mara
“Thank you, young brother,” Mara says with a tap to her head and chest. “I’ve been away from this a while,” pointing at the buildings and vista of civilization before her. “Do you have a natural place I can rest tonight? I am long on the road and am in need of her.” Mara waits for a moment before adding, a “How fares the temple of late?”
DM - And In The Darkness, Rot: The Sunless Citadel
DM - Our Little Lives Kept In Equipoise: Curse of Strahd
DM - Misprize Thou Not These Shadows That Belong: The Lost Mines of Phandelver
PC - Azzure - Tyranny of Dragons
"We always have room to spare for the champions of the Lady of the Harvest. Come, follow me, I believe we have a room this way" The young halfling says as he leads Mara across the entrance room and out in an inner courtyard, lush with plants. A tall pine tree grows from a hole in the pavement in the center of the courtyard. Plants grow in more pots, orderly placed around this open space. An simple wooden altar sits in front of the pine tree. Delicately carved in it is the holy symbol of Chauntea. "The temple is faring well, sister. There is never lack of faithful people in a farming community such as this. Ah, here."
You reach a door, which the halfling opens and leads you in. Inside is a bed, with a small bedside table on the side, a wardrobe and a table. A window opens on the other side of the room, giving view on the lights of the ducal castle. Two big plants grow on each side of it from wooden pots. Along the wall there are shelves; they are empty except for some candles. On the table, there is a basin with some water in it and some linen towels are neatly folded on the side of it. On the bedside table there is a jug of water and a wooden glass and a candle-holder with a new candle nested on it. "Ah...I hope the room is to your liking? I am afraid we don't have much guests here, all the rooms are similar. I sleep in the one next door, if you need amnything doring the night." He goes to the bedside table and lits up the candle, then lits up a coupe of the candles on the shelves. Their soft, warm light envelopes the room in a comforting way. "I believe Priestess Merovyna is in her room. Shall I let her know that you would like to speak to her?"
Mara
Mara looks over the room and nods. “This will be sufficient. I thank you brother. Yes, I would like to speak with her.”
DM - And In The Darkness, Rot: The Sunless Citadel
DM - Our Little Lives Kept In Equipoise: Curse of Strahd
DM - Misprize Thou Not These Shadows That Belong: The Lost Mines of Phandelver
PC - Azzure - Tyranny of Dragons
Father Cadfrey
Once all the introductions and conversation is over Father Cadfrey retires to his room. He makes and entry into his new journal with all days happenings, recording everyone's name and a short description, all for Candlekeep's records. He will end the night as he always does, with prayer then settle down in his bed for some rest.
Dahvik Aloro
Meanwhile, back at the Lady Luck, the rogue has retreated to his room. Half an hour later, a grimy old beggar with a twisted lip sits with his tin cup just outside the open doors of the tavern, selling matchsticks. He rocks back and forth, not seeming quite all there. He responds to a copper or a request somewhat randomly. He'll call out "Blessings of Tymora upon thee!", or just as likely give a bit of original poetry in the High Elven style, or a recipe to a home remedy for acne, or an Uthgart battlecry, or a verse or two of a popular drinking song. A bit of silver might get something more, like a bit of dramatic prose or a poetic story [OOC: think Noyes's The Highwayman or Coleridge's Kubla Khan]. Between 'customers', he just sits rocking absently, but he's furtively straining his ears to catch every scrap of gossip, whether or not it seems to be immediately related to the investigation.
Once the patrons leave and the conversation has died, Dahvik willslip around back to the stable, where he'll wash himself and change into the regular clothes he stashed in a safe spot, then make his way back in and up to his room to jot down what he has heard.
Lorian will spend his night by reviewing his spellbook to prepare spells. He’ll converse with Noc a little before going to sleep.
The young halfling bows and leaves you to your room. After a short while, Mara hears a gentle knock at her door. As she opens, Mara finds herself face to face with a tall, slender lady, with long white hair.
"Good evening, child. I am Merovyna." She gently kisses Mara on the cheeks. The priestess looks old, probably in her seventies, but radiates a great strength of spirit. She is wearing a green gown and a symbol of Chauntea is hanging around her neck.
"Welcome to our temple. What brings you to Daggerford? Ah...forgive my manners. Would you like something to eat? You look fresh from the road, my dear."
Mara
"Sister," Mara says with a slight nod. "I have food enough and water but thank you." She pulls her trident off and begins to take her things off, moving to the washbin while continuing to talk to Merovyna. "We are to meet Sherlen in the morning. This business in Potter is disturbing to state the obvious. Wholesale and wanton cruelty is anathema to us and having gone through it, I am more resolved than ever to root it out and destroy it. What more can you tell me of these strange blights on the natural cycles of the Mother? I understand you have Arnold here. I would speak with him or at least observe him, though I am sure you have done both. Perhaps you can offer more insight than I could get from him. Can you aid a sister in need?" Mara finishes washing and looks intensely into Merovyna's eyes, neither scared nor deferent to her authority. "We are to investigate in Potter and Gillian's Hill. The more I know, the better we are able to fulfill the Earth Mother's will."
DM - And In The Darkness, Rot: The Sunless Citadel
DM - Our Little Lives Kept In Equipoise: Curse of Strahd
DM - Misprize Thou Not These Shadows That Belong: The Lost Mines of Phandelver
PC - Azzure - Tyranny of Dragons
Roll me a Deception, a Performance and a Perception checks
Merovyna nods, and you realize she must be tired. Not from the day, but it seems like the troubles you are speaking of are slowly wearing her down. "I thought that was what brought you to town. Indeed these are troubled times, but I have every confidence we will come through, as we always do, following the teaching of patience and nurturing of the Earthmother. Captain Sherlen and many other members of the City Council have all intention of do everything in our power to fight this affliction, but our resources are being stretched ever more thin. I am sure you also heard of the troubles with the Lizardfolk to the West? Unfortunately that kind of threat warrants immediate attention of the Captain and, I am afraid, good part of our town militia. It is understandable, but this will mean our search efforts will come to an halt. If you are here to help, anything you can do will surely be welcome. I am afraid I don't know much about Gillian's Hill, save that a girl has disappeared and her family is suffering greatly from it. I don't know if Hannah's disappearance is connected to Arnold's tragedy. I don't think it is."
She pauses, and sits down on the bed.
"You are correct, Arnold is here. We have tended to his body, he wasn't really injured when he was found on the road to Daggerford. He is fine now, he is no physical danger anymore. As for the rest...He eats very little, sleeps even less and when he does, he has nightmares. He wakes up screaming and crying...we will do everything we can, with the help of Chauntea, to help him grow out of his great pain, though I cannot say how long it will take.
I can tell you his story, if you like. You will be the judge about whether or not you need to speak to him or not. They came by night. All he remembers is to be awaken by sounds of some commotion from the living room. He said it sounded like his father being attacked by a big dog or a wolf. He remembers his mother hurrying in his bedroom, urging him to get up and to escape from the window. He told us he heard is father screaming let her go! You filthy beasts, let her go!"
While she tells Mara this story, Merovyna is holding in her hand the symbol of Chauntea at from her neck.
"'She' could be Arnold's sister, Avelina, he doesn't know what happened to her, but unfortunately, I cannot imagine a lot of different scenarios for her. Arnold and his mom started to run from the house, she holding his hand as she kept telling him Keep running Arnold, don't turn back!
He then remembers hearing high pitch voices, yelling and cackling behind them. Keep running my son, I will meet you at the road! he remembers hearing. And he kept running. The mom must have staid behind, trying to slow down what was pursuing them. He remember her screams...either Arnold fully believed that he would have meet his family at the road or he was too terrified to turn back and see what was going on, because he just kept running. All night."
Merovyna looks out the window at the lights of the ducal castle. She seems glad to have finished her story, since she lets go of her holy symbol.
"He was found on the Trade Way the day after. He must have collapsed from the strain and the fear. A trader's caravan brought him here. This was three days ago.
The Captain seems to be sure it was a goblin raiding band. They are known to...train wolves to their service"
It is obvious by the way she says "train" that this is not the term she would use to best describe the relationship between goblins and wolves.
"Unfortunately goblins and bandits are not uncommon along the Trade Way, and Potter has next to no defenses. Captain Sherlen immediately sent some scouts to investigate the farm and track down the attackers, but they haven't reported back yet, and she fears the worst. Fortunately no more attacks have been reported in Potter, but whoever had family or friend in Daggerford came here to find refuge and safety."
She sighs, stands up from the bed and looks at Mara.
"Do you still feel you need to talk to Arnold? I would ask you to refrain from doing so, but I know you would be gentle. We told him to try to sleep, though I guess he is still lying awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He thinks he hasn't been brave enough, that he should have protected her mom and sister, that his dad told him he was the young man of the family now...We told him none of this was his fault, and that his dad would have wanted him to survive, but as you can imagine, it will take time for him to see the truth of that, if ever he will."
Deception: 7
Performance: 17
Perception: 21
Why do I get the impression this isn't going to go as well as it did in my head?
A 1, a 2, and a 4. Dahvik is no Neville St. Clair, I guess.
Dahvik must be more tired than he though he was. The patrons of the tavern seem to be outright offended by his stories. They usually work in a tavern, people find them funny! But from the looks he receives, Dahvik realises he must have misjudged the characters of tonight's clientele, and they seem to find them a tiny bit too bawdy.
Fast of wits, Dahvik is not discouraged and decides to give a try to poetry, clearly more like it for tonight's patrons.
Maybe the ale he drank earlier was stronger than the taste let suggest, or maybe it's just not the his night. Whatever the reason, Dahvik seems to be forgetting one every two lines of the poems and songs he tries. At this point the patrons seem to be very annoyed by his very presence, although nobody is outright aggressive against him. Even the innkeep starts eyeing him with suspicion.
Ashamed with himself, not quite sure what the heck is wrong with him tonight, his mind busy thinking about the next trick up his sleeve, Dahvik cannot really pick up any interesting conversation from the people in the tavern. Only some meaningless chattering about this year's promising weather for the summer, a good recipe for trout and a stupid conversation about whether gnomes were just fat halflings or very thin dwarves.
A good night sleep is probably just the thing for Dahvik tonight.
Dahvik Aloro
Rough. No, rough doesn't even begin to describe it. A disaster.
Dahvik splashes his face with water again, having finally gotten that last bit of plaster off his lip. He hasn't had a night that bad in months. Maybe years. Not since...that night he had to stand in for Ander. At least then he had had an excuse. But not tonight. Tonight was just plain wretched. He grabs a towel and starts to pat his face dry but pauses, hunched over the basin on the washstand in his room.
She's still there. Her nameless face is buried in the bundle at the foot of the bed, but still she mocks him. What did you expect?
"I had a bad night," he argues aloud. "It happens. But I'm still Dahvik Aloro. I can still be anybody."
No, you can't. You're somebody now. You can't be just anybody.
Scowling darkly, Dahvik drops his towel beside the basin. "Great. Now I'm arguing with inanimate objects. And I thought the night couldn't get worse." Frustrated and rattled, he throws himself onto the bed. He makes himself as comfortable as he can, shutting his eyes tight against the face that burns in his mind.
Mara
Mara listens to the sister's words, ruminating on what she has said. "Thank you for your forthrightness, sister. I have more to ask of you. First, my own holy symbol was taken from me and I need a replacement." Mara's eyes harden for a moment, remembering the circumstances that eventually brought her to Daggerford. "Second, I do want to see Arnold. As you yourself know, words spoken by another have more impact coming from the source rather than the telegram, so to speak. I will be gentle. I would also ask you if you can spare some holy water for the journey ahead - I have a feeling I will be in need of it..."
In her half-undressed form, Mara cuts an imposing figure. Years of work in the fields combined with training has sculpted her figure into a finely honed tool - or weapon - that most would do well to avoid. "I ask that, if you wish to observe, that you do only that."
DM - And In The Darkness, Rot: The Sunless Citadel
DM - Our Little Lives Kept In Equipoise: Curse of Strahd
DM - Misprize Thou Not These Shadows That Belong: The Lost Mines of Phandelver
PC - Azzure - Tyranny of Dragons
"You can take mine" Merovyna takes his holy symbol from her neck, walks to Mara and puts it at hers. It is clear from her eyes and posture that she will not take no for an answer. "I will get another later. This one stayed with me for a long time and it always reminded me of the teaching of the Earthmother. I have it since I became part of the City Council. I always thought, despite the politics and nonsense, that my purpose there was to keep the people of Daggerford safe. It's only fitting that it comes with you now, to continue this task."
The symbol is a medallion made of steel. Carved in it, clearly by the hand of a very skilled metal-worker, is a blooming rose in a sunburst wreath of grain. "At the time of my nomination in the city council, the other priests of the temple had it made from the steel head of a plough. May it show you the way, as it did to me."
With a sigh, she continues "Very well. Follow me." and she leads Mara out of her room, up a staircase and along a corridor. Out of some of the doors you pass, you hear the low voices of some priests and acolytes reciting their end-of-day prayers. Otherwise the temple is peaceful and filled with the smell of the numerous plants that are grown in the building. Merovyna stops in front of a door and gently opens it, gesturing Mara to wait outside while she checks on Arnold.
"Arnold, my dear. You are awake? Can't sleep tonight either, can you?" Merovyna is speaking with a low, soft voice, almost as if she was speaking to a scared pet. "Listen, I know it's late, but there is someone here to meet you. She is a mighty paladin of Chauntea, a real-world hero, you see? Would you like to let her in and talk to her for just a minute?"
After a short while, Merovyna goes back to the door and lets Mara in "Come in, child. Arnold, this is Mara."
Sitting up in the bed, is a little boy of no more than eight years of age, with blond hair and green eyes. He is looking at Mara and Merovyna with no clear expression on his face. The room, which is similar to Mara's, are signs of a longer term stay and of the gentle care of the priestesses and priests of the temple: clothes for the next day are neatly folded on a chair by the desk, on which Mara sees books of fairytales and other stories. Another chair is placed next to the bed and some wooden toys and stuffed puppets are placed on the shelves around the room. Candles have been lit on the bedside table and throw their soft light on the face of this boy, a face that has known pain, has cried and that now is too tired and exhausted to grieve anymore.
[OOC: If you want to speak with him, you can write your piece and give me a Persuasion check]
((Is it still night time or have we started the next day?))