When the tree is finished with its tale, which culminates in a grand finale that coaxes quite the response from the children, it sits back and lets some of the kids climb up into its branches. Many of them laugh and giggle, while some of the pretend to be heroes themselves, proclaiming words of glory as they perch themselves proudly up in the tree's limbs.
When he notices you all watching him, the tree lets out a jolly chuckle and says, "Aren't children wonderful? So much life and energy, with the innocence still intact."
"Aye, tha's true rioght." Zyllith commented in kind, "Would tha' we could stay an' play along as well. But we'll need ta' head ta' this Northfurrow's End if we wanna like ta' complete our task."
“Thank you for the tale, What is your name? I am Arisa, Cleric of Mystra. We have an errand to finish, but I’m quite happy to be back in this magical place”. Arisa says, with a smile.
Belkas says, "They are wonderful, and it is heartening to see how happy, free, and loved they are here. It is not the same everywhere. We just came from Nightstone, where the townsfolk had been captured by goblins after giants attacked the town. We were able to save most of them, and then not far from here we came across orcs taking young halflings captives. These are troubled times."
The tree answers. "Well met, Arisa, cleric of Mystra. I am called Lifferlas. Be back, you say? You have visited Goldenfields before?"
"'Troubled times indeed. That is woeful news to hear of giants and goblins attacking and taking young folk captive. Danger is always a slight breeze away, it seems, but we ever remain vigilant here in case those breezes waft to close to our walls."
"There is a saying where I grew up: 'If you stand near a good tree, you will find yourself in good shelter.' I think the children of Goldenfields are well sheltered here." Belkas gestures at the happy children chasing each other and shrieking in delight. "Perhaps you can help us, though. We are looking for Miros Xerbrim; we bring him sad tidings from Nightstone, as well as a family pet."
“I was here once, when I was young. My mother was an herbalist, she came here to trade, and I was here with her. Yes- we are here to return this one”. She affectionately pets the cat.
Answering Belkas, the tree says, "A fine saying indeed, and an apt one to speak in the company of a tree if you're trying to earn its good graces. All children should be well sheltered, but not all children are fortunate enough to life inside the walls of Goldenfields. Many must life under the constant threat of dangers on the outside."
"As for your friend, I know of him. You will find him at Northfurrow's End, in the north side of town."
For reference on the map below, you are currently in the main circle of town, near the grove of trees at the south side. Just past the grove to the right, sits the largest and most elaborate building in Goldenfields, which is the abbey. Harvesthome, as Arias remembers it's called, is a centuries-old stone edifice whose outer walls have statues of Chauntea at every corner, her hands raised to the sky as though casting a spell to summon rain. Well-tended hedges surround the foundation, and a sun-shaped window of stained glass is set above the entrance and the steps leading up to it.
Northfurrow's End lies the other side of the three rows of houses, along the north side of town.
"Sounds like I was rioght 'bout Northfurrow's End, tis tha' place ta' go next fer our task, aye?" Zyllith turned to her companions, confirming her suspicions, "Jus' a brisk walk left ta' find this Miros now."
Arissa says “yes- let’s finish our quest. Bowing to the tree, she says “thank you, we hope to return to visit more later. I would love to hear more of your tales.”
Lifferlas bids you farewell, at least for now, and then the six of you make your way around the town circle, past the rows of houses. Standing north of the town is a three-story stone edifice with arched windows that offer a view of the surrounding gardens. Life-size statues of rearing horses flank the double doors that lead into the inn. Above these doors hangs a wooden sign that proclaims the name of this grand establishment, Northfurrow’s End, in fancy lettering. West of the main building is a stable house that can hold and feed up to fifty horses.
Belkas stares up at the statues of the horses and the enormous hotel. "Nice place. I wonder if they will let us in there in our dusty and blooded clothing and mud covered boots."
Vernon snaps out of his internal pondering at the mention of cheese. "Cheese? Oh, yes, I hope they do. You can't really be a respectable establishment without offering cheese."
Walking past the life-size statues of rearing horses that flank the entrance to the inn, you push open the large wooden double doors that lead to the common room and enter the inn known as Northfurrow's End. Inside you see a few patrons spread out among the tables, many of who appear to be farmers resting with a drink after a long day in the fields, while a rosy cheeked halfling plays a cheerful tune on his lute, while throwing back swigs of ale from his mug in between tunes, sometime while he's in the middle of a song.
You also see a young dark skinned Turami woman with a tight gray-streaked bun sitting alone by an untouched plate of food. She is poring over several open books on the table, her spectacles perched on the end of her nose.
Behind the counter, you see a large barrel-chested man with thick, white hair covering his arms, face and head. When he sees you come in, he shouts in a warm, hearty voice, "Welcome to Northfurrow's End! What'll it be for you folks?"
“Thank you for the welcome- something for dinner and a flagon of ale, for me, good sir, and a bit of meat for this cat, please” Arisa finds a table out of the way with enough room for the group and sets down her heavy pack. She looks discretely but curiously at the scholarly woman, to see if she can tell what types of things the woman is studying.
Zyllith takes in the entire room with a big smile on her face, making a note of the many interesting people sitting about the tavern. Striding up to the large hairy man by the bar she cheerfully begins to order, "'ello Mate! Might fine place ye' got 'ere. I can already see this is home ta' grand entertainment. An' surely grand drinks ta' go along with tha'. What'd be tha' favorite local ale ye' got back there? Would love a mug o' tha' best local flavor."
"Food and ale sounds good to me as well." Belkas nods at the man and then goes to the table, choosing a chair with his back to a wall that let's him watch the other customers and see anyone who might approach them.
"Crowley. Why don't you go invisibly and see what that woman is reading."
Belkas closes his eyes so he can see what Crowley is seeing.
The fur-faced innkeeper respond in a the same jovial manner as he did when you walked in. "It is indeed!! I run a top notch establishment, best in the region! And of course, you do, what adventurer doesn't want a hearty dinner and a few flagons of ale after a few days spent out in the dusty wilds!"
"Make yourselves at home, and we'll get a round on yer table just as quick as can be! Goldengulp is the local favorite, 'tis a fine golden ale that no-one around her can resist! And since you're new customers, the first flagon is on the house for all of you!"
He quickly pours six mugs and has one of his servers bring them out, a young woman with a thin physique, a bright smile and a neat but loose flop of dark curls on top of her head. The large, varnished clay mugs have sheaves of golden wheat painted on their sides, and they're filled with a wonderfully hoppy golden ale.
"What brings you to Goldenfields, fine folk, and what did you see along the way?" the innkeeper asks.
Belkas
Crowley approaches the woman and sees that she is reading a variety of books that appear to be of arcane and historical subjects. The one she's currently reading tells of the history of Chauntea, who is believed to be one of the eldest gods in all of Faerûn, and considered the physical embodiment of the world of Toril. Chanuntea born when Toril was seated by the primeval battles between Shar and Selûne.
Chauntea begged for light and warmth so that she could create life on the new world, but Shar opposed this vehemently. The subsequent war between the sisters created new deities – war, murder, and destruction among them. When Selûne lit one of the nearby heavenly bodies on fire to provide the light and warmth needed, Shar became enraged, trying to extinguish light everywhere. Selûne tore the energy from her own body and flung it at Shar, where it joined with Shar's energy and passed from both of them, thus creating the goddess of magic, Mystryl. The birth of Mystryl not only brought a truce to Selûne and Shar, but created the Weave.
When the tree is finished with its tale, which culminates in a grand finale that coaxes quite the response from the children, it sits back and lets some of the kids climb up into its branches. Many of them laugh and giggle, while some of the pretend to be heroes themselves, proclaiming words of glory as they perch themselves proudly up in the tree's limbs.
When he notices you all watching him, the tree lets out a jolly chuckle and says, "Aren't children wonderful? So much life and energy, with the innocence still intact."
"Aye, tha's true rioght." Zyllith commented in kind, "Would tha' we could stay an' play along as well. But we'll need ta' head ta' this Northfurrow's End if we wanna like ta' complete our task."
Sylnache Ashrain - 7th Sojourn
“Thank you for the tale, What is your name? I am Arisa, Cleric of Mystra. We have an errand to finish, but I’m quite happy to be back in this magical place”. Arisa says, with a smile.
Belkas says, "They are wonderful, and it is heartening to see how happy, free, and loved they are here. It is not the same everywhere. We just came from Nightstone, where the townsfolk had been captured by goblins after giants attacked the town. We were able to save most of them, and then not far from here we came across orcs taking young halflings captives. These are troubled times."
The tree answers. "Well met, Arisa, cleric of Mystra. I am called Lifferlas. Be back, you say? You have visited Goldenfields before?"
"'Troubled times indeed. That is woeful news to hear of giants and goblins attacking and taking young folk captive. Danger is always a slight breeze away, it seems, but we ever remain vigilant here in case those breezes waft to close to our walls."
"There is a saying where I grew up: 'If you stand near a good tree, you will find yourself in good shelter.' I think the children of Goldenfields are well sheltered here." Belkas gestures at the happy children chasing each other and shrieking in delight. "Perhaps you can help us, though. We are looking for Miros Xerbrim; we bring him sad tidings from Nightstone, as well as a family pet."
“I was here once, when I was young. My mother was an herbalist, she came here to trade, and I was here with her. Yes- we are here to return this one”. She affectionately pets the cat.
Answering Belkas, the tree says, "A fine saying indeed, and an apt one to speak in the company of a tree if you're trying to earn its good graces. All children should be well sheltered, but not all children are fortunate enough to life inside the walls of Goldenfields. Many must life under the constant threat of dangers on the outside."
"As for your friend, I know of him. You will find him at Northfurrow's End, in the north side of town."
For reference on the map below, you are currently in the main circle of town, near the grove of trees at the south side. Just past the grove to the right, sits the largest and most elaborate building in Goldenfields, which is the abbey. Harvesthome, as Arias remembers it's called, is a centuries-old stone edifice whose outer walls have statues of Chauntea at every corner, her hands raised to the sky as though casting a spell to summon rain. Well-tended hedges surround the foundation, and a sun-shaped window of stained glass is set above the entrance and the steps leading up to it.
Northfurrow's End lies the other side of the three rows of houses, along the north side of town.
Map of Goldenfields
"Sounds like I was rioght 'bout Northfurrow's End, tis tha' place ta' go next fer our task, aye?" Zyllith turned to her companions, confirming her suspicions, "Jus' a brisk walk left ta' find this Miros now."
Sylnache Ashrain - 7th Sojourn
Arissa says “yes- let’s finish our quest. Bowing to the tree, she says “thank you, we hope to return to visit more later. I would love to hear more of your tales.”
"We will be off then. Thank you for your help and your wonderful story. May your roots grow deep and your branches stay supple."
Belkas waves at the tree and the children.
Lifferlas bids you farewell, at least for now, and then the six of you make your way around the town circle, past the rows of houses. Standing north of the town is a three-story stone edifice with arched windows that offer a view of the surrounding gardens. Life-size statues of rearing horses flank the double doors that lead into the inn. Above these doors hangs a wooden sign that proclaims the name of this grand establishment, Northfurrow’s End, in fancy lettering. West of the main building is a stable house that can hold and feed up to fifty horses.
Arisa leads the group into the inn. “I suppose this is a good place to inquire about our quest…. They probably have cheese!” She smiles.
Belkas stares up at the statues of the horses and the enormous hotel. "Nice place. I wonder if they will let us in there in our dusty and blooded clothing and mud covered boots."
Vernon snaps out of his internal pondering at the mention of cheese. "Cheese? Oh, yes, I hope they do. You can't really be a respectable establishment without offering cheese."
Walking past the life-size statues of rearing horses that flank the entrance to the inn, you push open the large wooden double doors that lead to the common room and enter the inn known as Northfurrow's End. Inside you see a few patrons spread out among the tables, many of who appear to be farmers resting with a drink after a long day in the fields, while a rosy cheeked halfling plays a cheerful tune on his lute, while throwing back swigs of ale from his mug in between tunes, sometime while he's in the middle of a song.
You also see a young dark skinned Turami woman with a tight gray-streaked bun sitting alone by an untouched plate of food. She is poring over several open books on the table, her spectacles perched on the end of her nose.
Behind the counter, you see a large barrel-chested man with thick, white hair covering his arms, face and head. When he sees you come in, he shouts in a warm, hearty voice, "Welcome to Northfurrow's End! What'll it be for you folks?"
“Thank you for the welcome- something for dinner and a flagon of ale, for me, good sir, and a bit of meat for this cat, please” Arisa finds a table out of the way with enough room for the group and sets down her heavy pack. She looks discretely but curiously at the scholarly woman, to see if she can tell what types of things the woman is studying.
Zyllith takes in the entire room with a big smile on her face, making a note of the many interesting people sitting about the tavern. Striding up to the large hairy man by the bar she cheerfully begins to order, "'ello Mate! Might fine place ye' got 'ere. I can already see this is home ta' grand entertainment. An' surely grand drinks ta' go along with tha'. What'd be tha' favorite local ale ye' got back there? Would love a mug o' tha' best local flavor."
Sylnache Ashrain - 7th Sojourn
"Food and ale sounds good to me as well." Belkas nods at the man and then goes to the table, choosing a chair with his back to a wall that let's him watch the other customers and see anyone who might approach them.
"Crowley. Why don't you go invisibly and see what that woman is reading."
Belkas closes his eyes so he can see what Crowley is seeing.
The fur-faced innkeeper respond in a the same jovial manner as he did when you walked in. "It is indeed!! I run a top notch establishment, best in the region! And of course, you do, what adventurer doesn't want a hearty dinner and a few flagons of ale after a few days spent out in the dusty wilds!"
"Make yourselves at home, and we'll get a round on yer table just as quick as can be! Goldengulp is the local favorite, 'tis a fine golden ale that no-one around her can resist! And since you're new customers, the first flagon is on the house for all of you!"
He quickly pours six mugs and has one of his servers bring them out, a young woman with a thin physique, a bright smile and a neat but loose flop of dark curls on top of her head. The large, varnished clay mugs have sheaves of golden wheat painted on their sides, and they're filled with a wonderfully hoppy golden ale.
"What brings you to Goldenfields, fine folk, and what did you see along the way?" the innkeeper asks.
Belkas
Crowley approaches the woman and sees that she is reading a variety of books that appear to be of arcane and historical subjects. The one she's currently reading tells of the history of Chauntea, who is believed to be one of the eldest gods in all of Faerûn, and considered the physical embodiment of the world of Toril. Chanuntea born when Toril was seated by the primeval battles between Shar and Selûne.
Chauntea begged for light and warmth so that she could create life on the new world, but Shar opposed this vehemently. The subsequent war between the sisters created new deities – war, murder, and destruction among them. When Selûne lit one of the nearby heavenly bodies on fire to provide the light and warmth needed, Shar became enraged, trying to extinguish light everywhere. Selûne tore the energy from her own body and flung it at Shar, where it joined with Shar's energy and passed from both of them, thus creating the goddess of magic, Mystryl. The birth of Mystryl not only brought a truce to Selûne and Shar, but created the Weave.