“I am Svfra,” the Gnome replies, feeling small, like her name. “Just Svfra.” She accepts the proffered hand, or at least the few fingers she can fit in her grasp, and gives them a quick firm shake.
Svfra attempts to make up for her small stature and name, with a tall tale. Though the hunters who told it seemed quite serious, indeed.
“So.. ‘ave ye heard ‘bout th’ white moose terrorizin’ th’ woods here’bouts? Not ver’ familiar wit’ surface fauna m’self, bu’ apparently some great horned beast. Huntin’ th’ hunters it is, aye, an’ cunning too!”
"Aye, I heard the tale from another goliath. Ordinarily, I'd say it's an exaggeration but I got the sense from him, it is no ordinary beast. He told me the Speaker is offering a reward. In fact, if we want to stay in a bed tonight, the Speaker's home is our best bet."
“Ye can fill me in on th’ way, if it’s time t’ move, an’ you’ll ‘ave me? Your assassin, ye say? Ye have one, or you’re huntin’ one?” Svfra tries somewhat unsuccessfully to keep a neutral, judgement-free tone, since she still knows so very little about the company she has fallen in with. Still.. travel is good, and doing so alone, ill-advised. She likes the big one’s voice, but is wary.
Svfra gives the eyes right back at Haribo, then casts her gaze higher still, to Vothos.
“He tol’ me ‘bout Kaltro. Jus wan’ t’hear it in yer voice. We can walk while w’talk.”
Taking the hint, the gnome hops down from her stool and prepares to exit the tavern. Donning her winter cap, she tucks her ears under the long flaps and tugs the goggles down over her eyes. Walking outside, she attaches her crampons and is ready to go!
As the party leaves the tavern, they nearly bump into a bundled up halfling child, bearing a lantern still reaching for the door. The child, barely more than it's eyes showing looks up, and up, at the goliath leading the party out the door, and gapes in astonishment for a moment.
"Oh, uh, hello," he says half in awe. "I'm Scoop. My Ma' sent me to bring you to the house. I think that's you. You're the adventurers in the tavern lookin' for work? Please, this way!"
He turns and, assuming the adventurers follow, he leads them along the wharf, generally skipping along cheerfully despite the dark night and cold winds whipping around, in the way only children can. The Speaker's House is a short ways away, just off the main thoroughfare of the small village. "Here we are!" the lad says cheerfully, not fully paying attention to if the heroes follow or not, but walking in the door, dragging his scarf and wiping his nose on his sleeve.
From inside the house, the party hears a halfling woman yell from another room, "Close that door! Who raised you, children!" To which Scoop responds, lightly, "You did, ma!" "And a right mess I made of it," she says good naturedly as she enters the main living room, wiping flour off her hands onto the apron tied across her waist. She pauses for only a moment, seeing the adventurers. "Come in, come in out of the cold. Close that door behind you. This way, I've just finished some cookies."
Nimsy Huddle, the town speaker, tempts you with freshly baked, halfling-shaped cookies. Her house was clearly built for humans, but most of the furniture is sized for halflings, with a few big chairs for visitors of taller stock. Four halfling children scamper from room to room and climb a ladder up to the loft, chasing one another with wooden swords, while a fire crackles in the hearth in Speaker Huddle’s cluttered kitchen.
“Thanks for coming. Our loggers are being terrorized by a white moose,” says Speaker Huddle, “and the beast has eluded the hunters we’ve sent to kill it. We depend on the forest for our survival. I wouldn’t be a very good town speaker if I let a dumb moose get the better of us. Will you help?”
Vothos feeling uncomfortably tall, ducks through the doorways, and takes a seat in one of the larger chairs. He sniffs at the air in delight of the smell of cookies. After a curious glance, he takes a cookie from the table and shoves the whole thing in his mouth. The expression on his face is pure bliss as he chews the strange treat. As he reaches for another, he says to Speaker Huddle, "Thank you for inviting us into your home."
He finishes chewing the second cookie and asks, "What more could you tell us of this white moose? Does anyone have an idea of its location currently?"
Svfra is still something of a stranger to even everyday surface customs, and takes her cues from those around her. Emboldened by the Goliath’s behavior, she grabs a cookie for herself and crams the whole thing into her mouth, in a like manner! She is more or less successful in this endeavor, though a few crumbs inevitably fall, and she finds herself chewing for a very, very long time.
When she is finally finished with the cookie, she chimes in: “It may not be just a ‘dumb’ moose, as ye say. A cunning hunter in its own right, as I hear it.”
Vothos watches the gnome shove the cookie in her mouth and nods in approval.
When Svfra finishes her thought, he interjects, "A hunter? My tribe has dealt with moose for centuries! Territorial, yes. Hunters? Far from it. The goliath I spoke to suspects it is rabid. If that's the case, it will be dead in a matter of weeks. What makes you so sure it is a moose and not something more primal?" he asks turning to the Speaker.
The halfling woman shrugs in response to Vothos' question. "The hunters and trappers who have encountered it," a brief pause here indicates the unspoken words "and survived," "...said there was no indication that 'twas anything other than just a very aggressive and smart moose. It did nothing that 'yer typical moose couldna' do. It didna' speak, it didna' cast spells, it didna' change shape, it jus' attacked them. While it attacked them quite savagely, it didna' attack recklessly or carelessly. I don' think it is rabid, but then, I am no druid or ranger, nor, have I seen it m'self."
"At this point, it needs t' be killed." Here her voice demonstrates a hardness that hasn't been present before. The kind that her children have probably rarely known, and only when they've truly made her mad. "The beast has killed my people. I want its head. I will mount the head on a board and put it in th'Lucky Liar so all will know that they're safe again."
As quick as it came, the anger seems to leave her, and she smiles again, "And, if ye can bring back its body--assuming it's not sick," she says with a nod to Vothos, "then we can have a feast and celebrate with the people. Give them a little warmth in this cursed winter."
"Very well," Vothos gives a nod. His expression begins to change and his eyes flicker with fervor. "What sort of payment can we expect when we bring back this beast's corpse?"
The brief show of anger displayed by their host, is the anger of a parent. The cries of the children in the background as they play swords, are all the more poignant in such context.
”We shall slay this fell beast, aye an’ bring its head back for o’ertop th’ hearth. We will leave b’fore dawn.. or what serves as such, in these dark times.”
"Well," she says with a chuckle, "I was hopin' m'cookies and the goodness of the deed itself being enough. But, I have been authorized to offer 100 gold for the head of the beast."
“I am Svfra,” the Gnome replies, feeling small, like her name. “Just Svfra.” She accepts the proffered hand, or at least the few fingers she can fit in her grasp, and gives them a quick firm shake.
Svfra attempts to make up for her small stature and name, with a tall tale. Though the hunters who told it seemed quite serious, indeed.
“So.. ‘ave ye heard ‘bout th’ white moose terrorizin’ th’ woods here’bouts? Not ver’ familiar wit’ surface fauna m’self, bu’ apparently some great horned beast. Huntin’ th’ hunters it is, aye, an’ cunning too!”
"Aye, I heard the tale from another goliath. Ordinarily, I'd say it's an exaggeration but I got the sense from him, it is no ordinary beast. He told me the Speaker is offering a reward. In fact, if we want to stay in a bed tonight, the Speaker's home is our best bet."
"While that sounds, mhmp, interesting, we should head to Bremen, I believe that's where our assassin is headed."
“Ye can fill me in on th’ way, if it’s time t’ move, an’ you’ll ‘ave me? Your assassin, ye say? Ye have one, or you’re huntin’ one?” Svfra tries somewhat unsuccessfully to keep a neutral, judgement-free tone, since she still knows so very little about the company she has fallen in with. Still.. travel is good, and doing so alone, ill-advised. She likes the big one’s voice, but is wary.
"Bremen it is. I'd still like to talk to this Speaker before we head out of town though. If the price is right, may be worth a short excursion."
Haribo shrugs out a nod, making eyes at the deep gnome
“Don’t ye gi’ me those eyes.”
Svfra gives the eyes right back at Haribo, then casts her gaze higher still, to Vothos.
“He tol’ me ‘bout Kaltro. Jus wan’ t’hear it in yer voice. We can walk while w’talk.”
Taking the hint, the gnome hops down from her stool and prepares to exit the tavern. Donning her winter cap, she tucks her ears under the long flaps and tugs the goggles down over her eyes. Walking outside, she attaches her crampons and is ready to go!
As the party leaves the tavern, they nearly bump into a bundled up halfling child, bearing a lantern still reaching for the door. The child, barely more than it's eyes showing looks up, and up, at the goliath leading the party out the door, and gapes in astonishment for a moment.
"Oh, uh, hello," he says half in awe. "I'm Scoop. My Ma' sent me to bring you to the house. I think that's you. You're the adventurers in the tavern lookin' for work? Please, this way!"
He turns and, assuming the adventurers follow, he leads them along the wharf, generally skipping along cheerfully despite the dark night and cold winds whipping around, in the way only children can. The Speaker's House is a short ways away, just off the main thoroughfare of the small village. "Here we are!" the lad says cheerfully, not fully paying attention to if the heroes follow or not, but walking in the door, dragging his scarf and wiping his nose on his sleeve.
From inside the house, the party hears a halfling woman yell from another room, "Close that door! Who raised you, children!" To which Scoop responds, lightly, "You did, ma!" "And a right mess I made of it," she says good naturedly as she enters the main living room, wiping flour off her hands onto the apron tied across her waist. She pauses for only a moment, seeing the adventurers. "Come in, come in out of the cold. Close that door behind you. This way, I've just finished some cookies."
Nimsy Huddle, the town speaker, tempts you with freshly baked, halfling-shaped cookies. Her house was clearly built for humans, but most of the furniture is sized for halflings, with a few big chairs for visitors of taller stock. Four halfling children scamper from room to room and climb a ladder up to the loft, chasing one another with wooden swords, while a fire crackles in the hearth in Speaker Huddle’s cluttered kitchen.
“Thanks for coming. Our loggers are being terrorized by a white moose,” says Speaker Huddle, “and the beast has eluded the hunters we’ve sent to kill it. We depend on the forest for our survival. I wouldn’t be a very good town speaker if I let a dumb moose get the better of us. Will you help?”
**By the Light of the Sun, you will burn!**
Previously BENEFICENCE
DM: Storm Lord's Wrath || Syr Valor Dayne: Sleeping Gods || tooltips | guides | dice |
Vothos feeling uncomfortably tall, ducks through the doorways, and takes a seat in one of the larger chairs. He sniffs at the air in delight of the smell of cookies. After a curious glance, he takes a cookie from the table and shoves the whole thing in his mouth. The expression on his face is pure bliss as he chews the strange treat. As he reaches for another, he says to Speaker Huddle, "Thank you for inviting us into your home."
He finishes chewing the second cookie and asks, "What more could you tell us of this white moose? Does anyone have an idea of its location currently?"
Svfra is still something of a stranger to even everyday surface customs, and takes her cues from those around her. Emboldened by the Goliath’s behavior, she grabs a cookie for herself and crams the whole thing into her mouth, in a like manner! She is more or less successful in this endeavor, though a few crumbs inevitably fall, and she finds herself chewing for a very, very long time.
When she is finally finished with the cookie, she chimes in: “It may not be just a ‘dumb’ moose, as ye say. A cunning hunter in its own right, as I hear it.”
Vothos watches the gnome shove the cookie in her mouth and nods in approval.
When Svfra finishes her thought, he interjects, "A hunter? My tribe has dealt with moose for centuries! Territorial, yes. Hunters? Far from it. The goliath I spoke to suspects it is rabid. If that's the case, it will be dead in a matter of weeks. What makes you so sure it is a moose and not something more primal?" he asks turning to the Speaker.
The halfling woman shrugs in response to Vothos' question. "The hunters and trappers who have encountered it," a brief pause here indicates the unspoken words "and survived," "...said there was no indication that 'twas anything other than just a very aggressive and smart moose. It did nothing that 'yer typical moose couldna' do. It didna' speak, it didna' cast spells, it didna' change shape, it jus' attacked them. While it attacked them quite savagely, it didna' attack recklessly or carelessly. I don' think it is rabid, but then, I am no druid or ranger, nor, have I seen it m'self."
**By the Light of the Sun, you will burn!**
Previously BENEFICENCE
DM: Storm Lord's Wrath || Syr Valor Dayne: Sleeping Gods || tooltips | guides | dice |
"So you want us to, mhmp, take care of it. Does it have to be put down or if there is an alternate solution can we, mhmp, explore other options?"
He looks at his 'companions' and asks "None of you can speak to animals I assume?"
Vothos shakes his head in response to Haribo's question.
"At this point, it needs t' be killed." Here her voice demonstrates a hardness that hasn't been present before. The kind that her children have probably rarely known, and only when they've truly made her mad. "The beast has killed my people. I want its head. I will mount the head on a board and put it in th'Lucky Liar so all will know that they're safe again."
As quick as it came, the anger seems to leave her, and she smiles again, "And, if ye can bring back its body--assuming it's not sick," she says with a nod to Vothos, "then we can have a feast and celebrate with the people. Give them a little warmth in this cursed winter."
**By the Light of the Sun, you will burn!**
Previously BENEFICENCE
DM: Storm Lord's Wrath || Syr Valor Dayne: Sleeping Gods || tooltips | guides | dice |
"Slaughter, got it" Haribo writes a small note on what looks like a kerchief and tucks it in the bundle of loose documents that comprise his spellbook
"Very well," Vothos gives a nod. His expression begins to change and his eyes flicker with fervor. "What sort of payment can we expect when we bring back this beast's corpse?"
The brief show of anger displayed by their host, is the anger of a parent. The cries of the children in the background as they play swords, are all the more poignant in such context.
”We shall slay this fell beast, aye an’ bring its head back for o’ertop th’ hearth. We will leave b’fore dawn.. or what serves as such, in these dark times.”
"Well," she says with a chuckle, "I was hopin' m'cookies and the goodness of the deed itself being enough. But, I have been authorized to offer 100 gold for the head of the beast."
**By the Light of the Sun, you will burn!**
Previously BENEFICENCE
DM: Storm Lord's Wrath || Syr Valor Dayne: Sleeping Gods || tooltips | guides | dice |