Vernon is too engrossed by the possibility of finding cheese lore in the journal to notice Figwyn's disappearance. Reaching the end, he says to Zyllith, "Your rendition of our tale adds a wonderful tang to this journal, that should inspire many more entries to come."
"Aye, thank ye, Vernon." Zyllith replied with a happy and graceful bow, "Tha' t'was me intention. I'm grea'tful ye enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed its writtin'."
((Sorry for the delay, I was out of town last week.))
Walking away from the stone hut, with your tales of illustrious deeds left behind in the log book for future travelers to read, you continue along the Long Road through the hilly terrain. The route through the next section traverses between a number of several sharp rock outcrops with odd natural features that suggest leering faces peering down at you as you pass by. You encounter no troubles, though, and by late afternoon, you begin to pas through the outlying farms at the edge of Amphail.
Arisa knows that this village of around 600 people is a main food growing region for supplying Waterdeeep, but it's also known for its outstanding horses —including Amphail grays, glossy black chargers, and Amphail fancys. Due to this, the village often suffers from the stench of horse manure during the warmer months, which you can now begin to smell as you get closer.
Arisa tells the group of the village, and that she has been here before, when as a girl- she visited with her mother, a traveling herbalist. “They have the most beautiful horses here. But you may want some mint or lavender for your nose…” she adds. Pulling out her herbal kit, she passes out sprigs of strong-smelling herbs for the group.
Belkas notices the odor and gladly takes the sprig from Arisa. He has never minded the smell of horses, but this is quite strong.
"I wonder if we have enough for a pack horse. Riding horses would be a faster way to travel, of course, but I asume they are expensive and after all oir shopping in Waterdeep..." Belkas trails off and shrugs.
"Did you get a chance to ride much as a girl, Arisa?" he asks.
"Aye, 'ppreciate it luv." Zyllith nods graciously as she accepts Arisa's offer of sprig. Some time later she'd add to the conversation, "Nae much o' horse rider sadly, should we find ourselves a ship I might be more use then."
“**No. We had a mule when i was a girl, for pulling the wagon. I have ridden before, but I never was skilled at it. I have a natural way with animals, I credit that stubborn mule for helping me with that! But I appreciate beautiful horses, and riding would make us move quicker!”
With the scent under your noses sweetened by Arisa's gift of lavender and mint, you continue your approach into the village of Amphail. The Long Road passes right through the center of the village, which you guess is home to around 500-600 people, not counting the many outlying farms. Judging by the rather upscale architecture that's preset here, especially along the main drag, it has the feel of a small, rustic resort town. Arisa can confirm that there are indeed a number of nobles who like to come here for hunting, riding and reveling the "country charm" of this place. They contrast with the much poorer, "regular folk" that you see as well.
As you enter the main square in the center of the village, you see a few of the main shops and inns: Ulvinhand Smithy, (7 on the map) Blodhlar's Wares, (8) Ammakyl Flowers and Foods, (9) a tavern called The Stag-Horned Flagon (10) and a large inn called the Stone Stallion. (11)
At the edge of the main square is a large statue of black stone, (1) depicting a large gallant war stallion. Looking at the statue, you can see that it was altered at some point, as the horse figure appears to have been castrated. Behind the statue is the town well (2), which in addition to the village water source, appears to be a social gathering spot for the locals. You see a handful of people hanging around and visiting with each other by the well.
Arisa knows that there is a temple to Chanutea and Waukeen here in the village as well, called The Earth and Coin (12).
Belkas stares up at the statue of what even his uneducated eyes know is an impressive example of horseflesh, or a stone recreation of horseflesh to be more precise.
"I wouldn't mind a drink and a warm meal", Bellas says, "and it looks like a nice enough place to spend the night in a real bed. I'm sure our noses will adjust soon enough. Thank you for the herbal protection Arisa."
He is also hoping that the innkeeper or tavern keeper might have news about his old friend Bali Graybelt.
"Arisa, you've been through here before, do you have a preference between the Stag-Horned Flagon or the Stone Stallion? From what I remember, the Stallion is bigger, but The Flagon is run by a retired carnival performer. Might be a little more exciting in there."
“Let’s go to the Flagon. I havent been to either since i was a girl. But a little excitement sounds good after the long journey.”. She smiles, remembering her childhood visits as she looks around the familiar sights (and smells)
Belkas nods and follows Arisa and Ciri's lead, observing people as they walk, mostly because the town is new and interesting, and partially to identify any potential threats. You can never be too sure.
'Are you ready for some food and drink Crowley?' Belkas thinks at the imp. 'If you fly down as a crow, it won't look so odd when I give you food in the tavern.'
Not long after, there is a fluttering of wings and a smug looking crow settles onto Belkas' shoulder and pecks him on the ear.
"Aye, tha' sounds grand!" Zyllith says eagerly, encouraging the others to join in, as she follows Arisa and Ciri in kind, "Bit o' excitement inna local tavern 'tis rioght up me galleon."
Belkas follows Arisa into the tavern. He quickly scans the room for potential threats and alternative exits. When he feels confident that they are safe, or at least as safe as they ever are, he sits down at the table, choosing a chair where he can keep an eye on the door.
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Vernon is too engrossed by the possibility of finding cheese lore in the journal to notice Figwyn's disappearance. Reaching the end, he says to Zyllith, "Your rendition of our tale adds a wonderful tang to this journal, that should inspire many more entries to come."
"Aye, thank ye, Vernon." Zyllith replied with a happy and graceful bow, "Tha' t'was me intention. I'm grea'tful ye enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed its writtin'."
Sylnache Ashrain - 7th Sojourn
((Sorry for the delay, I was out of town last week.))
Walking away from the stone hut, with your tales of illustrious deeds left behind in the log book for future travelers to read, you continue along the Long Road through the hilly terrain. The route through the next section traverses between a number of several sharp rock outcrops with odd natural features that suggest leering faces peering down at you as you pass by. You encounter no troubles, though, and by late afternoon, you begin to pas through the outlying farms at the edge of Amphail.
Arisa knows that this village of around 600 people is a main food growing region for supplying Waterdeeep, but it's also known for its outstanding horses —including Amphail grays, glossy black chargers, and Amphail fancys. Due to this, the village often suffers from the stench of horse manure during the warmer months, which you can now begin to smell as you get closer.
Arisa tells the group of the village, and that she has been here before, when as a girl- she visited with her mother, a traveling herbalist. “They have the most beautiful horses here. But you may want some mint or lavender for your nose…” she adds. Pulling out her herbal kit, she passes out sprigs of strong-smelling herbs for the group.
Belkas notices the odor and gladly takes the sprig from Arisa. He has never minded the smell of horses, but this is quite strong.
"I wonder if we have enough for a pack horse. Riding horses would be a faster way to travel, of course, but I asume they are expensive and after all oir shopping in Waterdeep..." Belkas trails off and shrugs.
"Did you get a chance to ride much as a girl, Arisa?" he asks.
"Aye, 'ppreciate it luv." Zyllith nods graciously as she accepts Arisa's offer of sprig. Some time later she'd add to the conversation, "Nae much o' horse rider sadly, should we find ourselves a ship I might be more use then."
Sylnache Ashrain - 7th Sojourn
“**No. We had a mule when i was a girl, for pulling the wagon. I have ridden before, but I never was skilled at it. I have a natural way with animals, I credit that stubborn mule for helping me with that! But I appreciate beautiful horses, and riding would make us move quicker!”
With the scent under your noses sweetened by Arisa's gift of lavender and mint, you continue your approach into the village of Amphail. The Long Road passes right through the center of the village, which you guess is home to around 500-600 people, not counting the many outlying farms. Judging by the rather upscale architecture that's preset here, especially along the main drag, it has the feel of a small, rustic resort town. Arisa can confirm that there are indeed a number of nobles who like to come here for hunting, riding and reveling the "country charm" of this place. They contrast with the much poorer, "regular folk" that you see as well.
As you enter the main square in the center of the village, you see a few of the main shops and inns: Ulvinhand Smithy, (7 on the map) Blodhlar's Wares, (8) Ammakyl Flowers and Foods, (9) a tavern called The Stag-Horned Flagon (10) and a large inn called the Stone Stallion. (11)
At the edge of the main square is a large statue of black stone, (1) depicting a large gallant war stallion. Looking at the statue, you can see that it was altered at some point, as the horse figure appears to have been castrated. Behind the statue is the town well (2), which in addition to the village water source, appears to be a social gathering spot for the locals. You see a handful of people hanging around and visiting with each other by the well.
Arisa knows that there is a temple to Chanutea and Waukeen here in the village as well, called The Earth and Coin (12).
Belkas stares up at the statue of what even his uneducated eyes know is an impressive example of horseflesh, or a stone recreation of horseflesh to be more precise.
"I wouldn't mind a drink and a warm meal", Bellas says, "and it looks like a nice enough place to spend the night in a real bed. I'm sure our noses will adjust soon enough. Thank you for the herbal protection Arisa."
He is also hoping that the innkeeper or tavern keeper might have news about his old friend Bali Graybelt.
"I'm with you on that!" Ciri says to Belkas.
"Arisa, you've been through here before, do you have a preference between the Stag-Horned Flagon or the Stone Stallion? From what I remember, the Stallion is bigger, but The Flagon is run by a retired carnival performer. Might be a little more exciting in there."
“Let’s go to the Flagon. I havent been to either since i was a girl. But a little excitement sounds good after the long journey.”. She smiles, remembering her childhood visits as she looks around the familiar sights (and smells)
Belkas nods and follows Arisa and Ciri's lead, observing people as they walk, mostly because the town is new and interesting, and partially to identify any potential threats. You can never be too sure.
'Are you ready for some food and drink Crowley?' Belkas thinks at the imp. 'If you fly down as a crow, it won't look so odd when I give you food in the tavern.'
Not long after, there is a fluttering of wings and a smug looking crow settles onto Belkas' shoulder and pecks him on the ear.
"Aye, tha' sounds grand!" Zyllith says eagerly, encouraging the others to join in, as she follows Arisa and Ciri in kind, "Bit o' excitement inna local tavern 'tis rioght up me galleon."
Sylnache Ashrain - 7th Sojourn
Arisa leads the group to The Flagon, memories of her childhood visits flooding her mind. She opens the door and steps inside
Belkas follows Arisa into the tavern. He quickly scans the room for potential threats and alternative exits. When he feels confident that they are safe, or at least as safe as they ever are, he sits down at the table, choosing a chair where he can keep an eye on the door.