Mud is nibbling at the last bit of the second cookie, intently listening to everything around him. He looks at Bert a bit as he said the last bit. "I have much practice in doing that. The world's been off balance for a while, it's just now taking more noticeable forms."

After Adabra and Bert's warning. "By the way. Have you seen a dragon pass by this area?"

Mud, very nonchalantly, says. "Yes, it said something along the lines of '"Mine.  All mine.  From the northern treeline to the southern slopes of the snowy mountains.  This territory, its food, and its lesser beings are mine.  Mine to eat.  Mine to tax.  Let any dragon who hears this challenge me or flee.  Let any mortal who hears this cower before their queen.'"

Garrin nods. “Yes, we’re aware of the dragon. Hard not to be at this point.”

Adabra rolls her eyes.  "Is that really what the dragon said?  Gods... to be that big and poweful, yet still be so insecure that you need to fly around bragging about how incredibly fearsome you are...".

As tea service wraps up, she looks to all of you.  "The three of you did us quite a solid.  I'm afraid by the looks on your faces that we didn't have quite the information you were looking for.  I'd like to offer my appreciation beyond just some tea and biscuits.  I had finished brewing up a potion of healing yesterday.  Ordinarily I cannot let them go for less than 50gp, but as a way of saying thanks, if you're interested I could let it go for the cost of materials; 25gp.  Unfortunately, I just have the one ready."

Hearing what Adabra had to say about the Dragon. "Very insightful ma'am. It sounds about right. He flew away... I meant, she... No. IT flew away when I issued a challenge. So, I shall not rest until it has been defeated."

"The first rule of being a living, breathing person is to not go challenging dragons - you'll end up not living or breathing in a hurry. I suggest forgetting about the dragon and going about your business. If you go visit Reidoth, which is a much better idea by the way, can you take him some tea leaves for me? I promised the old man I'd bring some next time I visited..." If the group indicates they'll be visiting the old druid in Thundertree to learn about the Cragmaw goblins, Bert will wrap up some whole leaves in a parcel for them to take to Reidoth.

Gratin takes the leaves. “They wouldn’t even drink tea with us, they won’t do you anything neighborly like that. Sigh. I’ll take it to him.” 

Sensing that he, or his new found friends (Keashirryl and Mud), may have, somehow, offended their hosts, he goes for a cup of tea from Garrin. The Leonin associates tea with this concoction that the Shaman would produce whenever the pride was summoned for war, or other important dates that he cannot recollect. He remembers that the "sacred" concoction was dark as obsidian, thick as mud (no offense to Mud), one could smell it's pungent scent from the other side of the tribe, and it had a horrible taste. No one would dare to question the shaman, so the pride drank as they were told. He slowly takes the tea cup, and inspect it. To his surprise, the liquid is not pitch black nor swirling with oily traces on the top. His feline ears perk up. "Ok..." He smells the liquid, and again, he is surprised by the flagrance of the tea. Before bringing to his mouth, he remembers how the hosts were holding the cup, so he also holds his tea cup with his "pinky" open. He takes a sip, and he actually enjoys the taste! He finishes the tea, and he was about to bring the cup to his temple to complete the ritual, but remembered that they do not do such thing around here.

"Hummm... I must say, I like your tea very much. Very different from what we used to have in our pride. I shall not refuse your tea from now on. Whenever you make it, that it." He gives back the tea cup to Garrin. "I thank you, Master Hafling."

Garrin’s whole demeanor changes. “Now there’s some manners! Welcome, welcome! My name is Garrin. Did I already say that? Bah. Anyway. I’m not as young as I used to be, but I’ve got a few good miles left in these feet. And I’m sure you didn’t realize what you were doing what with the manticore. I… could come help you. If my brother and niece can reach safety. I don’t like to leave them alone for too long.” 

Keashirryl, somewhat owerwhelmed by the many different voices and the closed space, looses track of the conversation for a moment, before snapping back into an alert state.

"Thank you. I must say, we will definitely need that," she nods to Adabra with a smile that is only partially forced, and counts out the required amount of gold coins. "Since some of us are so keen on hunting foes much bigger than themselves." Barely, but she manages to not look at anyone in particular while saying the last words. 

"Speaking of which... who is more likely to need this one?" she holds the potion towards the two she had arrived with.

Then, she turns towards the two gentlemen they met recently. "I must point out that compared to your previous neighbour calling you food, we are considerably more courteous" she mumbles under her nose. 

[It looks like Garrin will be traveling with the others for the next leg of the journey.]  

Adabra fetches the potion of healing for Keashirryl.  Then the halflings make their goodbyes, Adabra launching into a longwinded prohibition against Garrin going out adventuring, though her tone and bodily language suggests she is well aware of the futility of her arguments.

Back to Phandalin, then?

Bert bids a fond farewell to his brother. Despite their lightly adversarial antics, the greying blonde does seem to be worried about his grumpy brother. "Now you don't go getting into any trouble, you hear? But if you do get eaten by the dragon, let me know before hand so I can tell it my tribute's been paid up for a while." He pats the other Halfling man on the back. "Ahhh just kidding. Take care of yourself - you and I both know it's getting more and more dangerous out there. And say hello to Reidoth for me; he'll let me know if you don't. I'll take care of Adabra while you're gone. You know where to find me if you need anything." He gives his brother a hug, then looks to the group of strange adventurers.

"Be careful out there. Garrin's stronger than he looks and knows these forests well; Don't take what he says lightly, even if he is wrong most of the time." After saying his goodbyes, Bert rejoins his niece to complete his tea time ritual.

“Bert. Dearest Bert. I am not going to share any of my treasure when I return.” Garrin puts on a coat and starts walking out the door. “All my love, Adabra! Stay safe, and I’ll be back ‘fore too long! I promise!” 

Mud silently looks on as the halfling joins him and his group, not really sure about what to do or say, so he just sticks to himself and hopes he isn't overly noticed. He gives a small wave to the others as he exits and waits outside against the wall next to the door.

Keashirryl‘s first comment slightly passed over the Leonin’s head, and one can see the confusing expression in his face. “I wonder who is the Devil Lady referring to…” Droknin thinks to himself. When she offers the potion, he quickly looks to the ceiling, in order to avoid her gaze. “I am good. I thank you madam. I think it’s best that you keep it, for I believe you are more proficient with its usage.” He finds that the ceiling is actually not that far from his face.

Leaving the halfling's windmill with few answers but perhaps more leads, the party returns to Phandalin to decide their next course of action.  They return missing a dwarf but having picked up an old halfling in the bargain.

Looking at the town as they approach, one might not suspect all of the dragon commotion this morning had ever occurred.  The shepherds are back in their fields on the outskirts of town, smoke wafts from the ovens at the bakery, and life goes on in the lazy little mountain village.

However, not all is quaint and idyllic here.  As you enter Phandalin, five figures in red cloaks emerge from an alley to block your path.  Three of the men hold light crossbows and wear shortswords on their belts.  Another man has a longsword and shield.  Keashirryl, Droknin and Mud recognize the last of them as the sneaky looking Redbrand with the knives from earlier.  He levels one of those knives at Droknin.  "There he is.  The kitty cat who threatened the captain."  The man grins devilishly.

The man with the longsword steps forward and draws his blade.  "We won't have you meddling in our business.  This town is Redbrand territory.  Turn around and go back the way you came and never return.  Or you will be forcibly removed."

Garrin fumes and says in a low voice: "These brigands deserve to be taught a lesson."

When Droknin hears the human with the knives say. "There he is.  The kitty cat..." He chuckles, and grins. Then he slowly walks forward (to within 10 feet of the Redbrands with crossbows.) "Slobomir isn't it? I thank you for the welcoming party, but I believe that won't be necessary." The Leonin shows his fangs then let out a great roar towards the three holding light crossbows.

Daunting Roar - As a bonus action once per short rest, creatures of your choice within 10 ft. that can hear you must succeed on a Wisdom saving throw (DC13) or become frightened of you until the end of your next turn.

Moments before, Mud announced he needed to check on something in town and would meet up with the others later.  [If he returns soon, we will slide him into the initiative assuming Mud hears the sounds of battle and comes running...]

When Droknin advances on the Redbrands, we enter initiative.  Droknin can still make his roar bonus action, but if the Redbrands initiative is higher they may act first...

INITIATIVE

• Droknin:  13
• Keashirryl:  1
• Garrin:  11
• Redbrands:  21