After two days of walking, the storm fades into a memory as the settlement finally comes into view.
Nestled in the rocky foothills of the snow-capped Sword Mountains is the mining town of Phandalin, which consists of forty or fifty simple log buildings. Crumbling stone ruins surround the newer houses and shops, showing how this must have been a much larger town in centuries past.
Phandalin’s residents are quiet, hard-working folk who came from distant cities to eke out a life amid the harsh wilderness. They are farmers, stonecutters, blacksmiths, traders, prospectors, and children. The town has no walls and no garrison, but most of the adults keep weapons within easy reach in case the need for arms should arise.
Visitors are welcome here, particularly if they have coin to spend or news to share. The Stonehill Inn at the center of town offers modest lodging and meals. A couple of doors down from the inn, posted outside the townmaster’s hall, is a job board for adventurers.
Lumbering into The Stonehill Inn was a cowled figure. She looked to be coated in a burgundy red robe and a cowl to match, covering most of her face. She looked to be about 5'3, average weight, her arms heavily bandaged and on her waist was a spellbook and a mysterious green orb. She just sat the fireplace, panting as if she had been traveling for a long while, exhausted and looking to finally catch her breath before partaking in a meal for once in a few days.
The door to the Stonehill Inn slams open with a bit more force than intended. In storms a tall woman, fiery red hair pulled back harshly out of her face and brown eyes set in a glare. There's mud and sand caked up to almost her knees, and she stomps her way over to haggle a room for herself for the night.
Once a room is all squared away, she stops and takes stock of the room. A fireplace, excellent. Warmth. Grumbling to herself, Merah sinks down into another chair by the fireplace and shakes out her long brown coat. It's still hasn't dried completely, two days of walking regardless. She's been feeling like she won't ever get dry again. Damn storm. She pulls her hair out of its tie and runs a hand through the long curls, shaking them out, too.
She notices another person sitting near the fireplace and offers up an almost easy smile. "Sorry. Rough couple days," she apologizes.
Anu would just lift a hand to acknowledge her. "Caught in the storm as well?" Anu would tilt her striking green eyes up to this new woman, eyeing her up-and-down in the chair. As a kind gesture, she'd wiggle her fingers with her hands still raised to cast Prestidigitation to clean her up and dry her off as Anu did to herself when she first entered Phandalin.
"I was shipwrecked myself, wandered to Phandalin from the shore."
A slender youth walks down the stairs wearing breaches and heavy tunic in grey trimmed with purple, boots, and several pouches strapped around his waist. His purple hair was parted on the right, sort of. One might think he was a gnome almost, except for his height...
Now where?- o ya --
He moves over to where Anu and her new companion are sitting.
Thanks for saving me a seat. I've laid everything out to dry, but they might be a little salty until we can get everything cleaned properly. Hi there, I'm Hotheris, have you guys ordered yet? I'm starving...
Merah snorts. “Caught in the storm. Yeah, you could say that.” Her smile does broaden a bit at the magic, and she slumps even further in her chair. Dry hair and clothes were never something to turn down, after all. “Much obliged.”
She looks up at the newcomer, eyebrows shooting up her forehead at his appearance. Purple hair? Flicking a few fingers up in a wave, she says, “Call me Merah. You two know each other?”
Amu just glances to the half-elf, examining him, but then simply taking her orb from her waist and rolling it around her palm for something to fixate on.
"Never seen him before." She answers Merah, staring at her orb.
The proprietor of this modest two-story roadhouse, is a short and friendly human male. He approaches you all and introduces himself, "Welcome! My name is Toblen Stonehill and you've come to the Stonehill Inn. We've six rooms for rent, a bed for the night costs 5 silver pieces and a meal costs 1. If there's anything I can help you all with, please let me know."
Anu would reach into her robe to produce a small coin purse and peers inside... five gold pieces....
After muttering a cuss in draconic, she'd hand over a single gold piece. "I'd like two silver pieces back, Toblen. And what is there to do in this town to earn some coin?" She peers up, rotating her orb.
A nice bed sounds excellent to Merah, and a hot meal wouldn't go awry either, she supposes. Digging around in her pockets, she counts out the proper amount for both a bed and a meal. She hands it over to Stonehill easily enough and flashes him a grin. "Just one night for now, thanks." Then she leans back in her chair and lets herself slump down and relax. Two days of walking from that beach; she's tired.
Toblen chuckled nervously at Anu, "Ah, so you'd like 1 night and 3 meals? Done!" before he handed her 2sp and a room key. He then pivoted quickly to Merah, and handed her a key as well with an appreciative nod, "Thank you much". Toblen then returned his gaze to Anu, but addressed you all openly with a tale, "I see you've come far, but as the Triboar Trail runs East, it passes through the ruins of Conyberry, a town sacked by barbarians years ago. There’s a razed temple south of Conyberry where it’s said the locals hid their treasures that have yet to be reclaimed."
He laughed, waving the legend off as a story for adventurers, returning to the back for the meals promised. There is a moment where you have the room to yourselves.
The door of the inn flings open again. A figure with black leather cloth and black hooded cloak walks into inn. He quickly surveys the room then walks to a table near the fireplace.
He takes off his soaked cloak, showing the face underneath the hood. He appears to be a human if not for his blue pupil less eyes.
He puts the cloak on the edge of the table for it to dry out a bit and orders a cup of ale. While waiting for his drink, he occasionally takes a peek at the people who is also drying themselves.
Toblen returns with several hot meals, his face lighting up with a positive glow at the appearance of another new visitor, "Hello and Welcome to the Stonehill Inn! I'm Toblen Stonehill and-" He quickly makes a note of Hotheris's order and accepts his payment before returning to the man with blue eyes, "We have three rooms for rent, a bed for the night costs 5 silver pieces and a meal costs 1." A final turn and he's once again back to Anu, but addressing openly as before, "If you were to go to Conyberry, there are locals here who are long distant relatives of the citizens there, and they'd pay dearly for the return of those items. Yet, we all here know Conyberry a dangerous place, overflowing with Wererats, and none but the bravest, or mad, venture near."
And nods in thanks for her meal and key and accepts her silver back. Not wasting any time she'd start to dig in; Quick at first but slowly more formal and looks up at Toblen.
"So east along the Triboar trail is the ruined city.. and wererats, hm?" Her eyebrow raised. "That doesn't sound like much of an issue, I'll burn them all and make rat kebabs.." she clutches her orb tightly, no longer playing with it.
Resting her forearms on the table and leaning in, Merah bares her teeth in a wide grin at Anu. "I like the way you think," she says, spearing some of her food with a stronger stab than necessary. "And I could use some gold, if you're willing to share some of those rats. Ain't been able to use my weapons in some time. It'd be fun."
Toblen revels in the thrill of adventure, quickly moving to the back for more food and drink to serve while you talk of slaughtering wererats.
Hotheris can recall some academic knowledge of wererats from his wizard training...
Wererats are cunning lycanthropes with sly, avaricious personalities. They are wiry and twitchy in humanoid form, with thin hair and darting eyes. In their humanoid and hybrid forms, wererats prefer light weapons and use ambush tactics rather than fighting as a pack. Although a wererat can deliver a nasty bite in its rat form, it favors that form for stealthy infiltration and escape rather than combat.
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After two days of walking, the storm fades into a memory as the settlement finally comes into view.
Nestled in the rocky foothills of the snow-capped Sword Mountains is the mining town of Phandalin, which consists of forty or fifty simple log buildings. Crumbling stone ruins surround the newer houses and shops, showing how this must have been a much larger town in centuries past.
Phandalin’s residents are quiet, hard-working folk who came from distant cities to eke out a life amid the harsh wilderness. They are farmers, stonecutters, blacksmiths, traders, prospectors, and children. The town has no walls and no garrison, but most of the adults keep weapons within easy reach in case the need for arms should arise.
Visitors are welcome here, particularly if they have coin to spend or news to share. The Stonehill Inn at the center of town offers modest lodging and meals. A couple of doors down from the inn, posted outside the townmaster’s hall, is a job board for adventurers.
Lumbering into The Stonehill Inn was a cowled figure. She looked to be coated in a burgundy red robe and a cowl to match, covering most of her face. She looked to be about 5'3, average weight, her arms heavily bandaged and on her waist was a spellbook and a mysterious green orb. She just sat the fireplace, panting as if she had been traveling for a long while, exhausted and looking to finally catch her breath before partaking in a meal for once in a few days.
The door to the Stonehill Inn slams open with a bit more force than intended. In storms a tall woman, fiery red hair pulled back harshly out of her face and brown eyes set in a glare. There's mud and sand caked up to almost her knees, and she stomps her way over to haggle a room for herself for the night.
Once a room is all squared away, she stops and takes stock of the room. A fireplace, excellent. Warmth. Grumbling to herself, Merah sinks down into another chair by the fireplace and shakes out her long brown coat. It's still hasn't dried completely, two days of walking regardless. She's been feeling like she won't ever get dry again. Damn storm. She pulls her hair out of its tie and runs a hand through the long curls, shaking them out, too.
She notices another person sitting near the fireplace and offers up an almost easy smile. "Sorry. Rough couple days," she apologizes.
Anu would just lift a hand to acknowledge her. "Caught in the storm as well?" Anu would tilt her striking green eyes up to this new woman, eyeing her up-and-down in the chair. As a kind gesture, she'd wiggle her fingers with her hands still raised to cast Prestidigitation to clean her up and dry her off as Anu did to herself when she first entered Phandalin.
"I was shipwrecked myself, wandered to Phandalin from the shore."
A slender youth walks down the stairs wearing breaches and heavy tunic in grey trimmed with purple, boots, and several pouches strapped around his waist. His purple hair was parted on the right, sort of. One might think he was a gnome almost, except for his height...
Now where?- o ya --
He moves over to where Anu and her new companion are sitting.
Thanks for saving me a seat. I've laid everything out to dry, but they might be a little salty until we can get everything cleaned properly. Hi there, I'm Hotheris, have you guys ordered yet? I'm starving...
Merah snorts. “Caught in the storm. Yeah, you could say that.” Her smile does broaden a bit at the magic, and she slumps even further in her chair. Dry hair and clothes were never something to turn down, after all. “Much obliged.”
She looks up at the newcomer, eyebrows shooting up her forehead at his appearance. Purple hair? Flicking a few fingers up in a wave, she says, “Call me Merah. You two know each other?”
Amu just glances to the half-elf, examining him, but then simply taking her orb from her waist and rolling it around her palm for something to fixate on.
"Never seen him before." She answers Merah, staring at her orb.
Sorry, I thought you were someone else, I guess I'm still a little unsettled from being tossed about in that little storm, don't mind me ....
The proprietor of this modest two-story roadhouse, is a short and friendly human male. He approaches you all and introduces himself, "Welcome! My name is Toblen Stonehill and you've come to the Stonehill Inn. We've six rooms for rent, a bed for the night costs 5 silver pieces and a meal costs 1. If there's anything I can help you all with, please let me know."
Anu would reach into her robe to produce a small coin purse and peers inside... five gold pieces....
After muttering a cuss in draconic, she'd hand over a single gold piece. "I'd like two silver pieces back, Toblen. And what is there to do in this town to earn some coin?" She peers up, rotating her orb.
A nice bed sounds excellent to Merah, and a hot meal wouldn't go awry either, she supposes. Digging around in her pockets, she counts out the proper amount for both a bed and a meal. She hands it over to Stonehill easily enough and flashes him a grin. "Just one night for now, thanks." Then she leans back in her chair and lets herself slump down and relax. Two days of walking from that beach; she's tired.
Toblen chuckled nervously at Anu, "Ah, so you'd like 1 night and 3 meals? Done!" before he handed her 2sp and a room key. He then pivoted quickly to Merah, and handed her a key as well with an appreciative nod, "Thank you much". Toblen then returned his gaze to Anu, but addressed you all openly with a tale, "I see you've come far, but as the Triboar Trail runs East, it passes through the ruins of Conyberry, a town sacked by barbarians years ago. There’s a razed temple south of Conyberry where it’s said the locals hid their treasures that have yet to be reclaimed."
He laughed, waving the legend off as a story for adventurers, returning to the back for the meals promised. There is a moment where you have the room to yourselves.
The door of the inn flings open again. A figure with black leather cloth and black hooded cloak walks into inn. He quickly surveys the room then walks to a table near the fireplace.
He takes off his soaked cloak, showing the face underneath the hood. He appears to be a human if not for his blue pupil less eyes.
He puts the cloak on the edge of the table for it to dry out a bit and orders a cup of ale. While waiting for his drink, he occasionally takes a peek at the people who is also drying themselves.
I'll have the same, please, Mr. Stonehill, a room and 3 round meals...
Hotheris places a gold piece of his own on the table, and dries off the new comer's cloak
Wow, That was quite the storm, wasn't it? I swear I saw waves colliding together out there at sea....
Toblen returns with several hot meals, his face lighting up with a positive glow at the appearance of another new visitor, "Hello and Welcome to the Stonehill Inn! I'm Toblen Stonehill and-" He quickly makes a note of Hotheris's order and accepts his payment before returning to the man with blue eyes, "We have three rooms for rent, a bed for the night costs 5 silver pieces and a meal costs 1." A final turn and he's once again back to Anu, but addressing openly as before, "If you were to go to Conyberry, there are locals here who are long distant relatives of the citizens there, and they'd pay dearly for the return of those items. Yet, we all here know Conyberry a dangerous place, overflowing with Wererats, and none but the bravest, or mad, venture near."
And nods in thanks for her meal and key and accepts her silver back. Not wasting any time she'd start to dig in; Quick at first but slowly more formal and looks up at Toblen.
"So east along the Triboar trail is the ruined city.. and wererats, hm?" Her eyebrow raised. "That doesn't sound like much of an issue, I'll burn them all and make rat kebabs.." she clutches her orb tightly, no longer playing with it.
"Brave, mad... or just powerful."
Ricster quietly looks at the woman who is talking about turning wererats into kebabs. He shakes his head and continues with his drink.
Resting her forearms on the table and leaning in, Merah bares her teeth in a wide grin at Anu. "I like the way you think," she says, spearing some of her food with a stronger stab than necessary. "And I could use some gold, if you're willing to share some of those rats. Ain't been able to use my weapons in some time. It'd be fun."
Stew? Yumm, so rich and flavourful! Hotheris inhales the first and asks Tolben about 2nds...
Wererats? Sounds interesting!
History, to recall what Hotheris knows of wererats 18
Can I have one to study first, before we eat them? I want to know what separates them from other rats...
Toblen revels in the thrill of adventure, quickly moving to the back for more food and drink to serve while you talk of slaughtering wererats.
Hotheris can recall some academic knowledge of wererats from his wizard training...
Wererats are cunning lycanthropes with sly, avaricious personalities. They are wiry and twitchy in humanoid form, with thin hair and darting eyes. In their humanoid and hybrid forms, wererats prefer light weapons and use ambush tactics rather than fighting as a pack. Although a wererat can deliver a nasty bite in its rat form, it favors that form for stealthy infiltration and escape rather than combat.