[Mud, since you have advantage on the attack due to the spell, you can apply sneak attack damage as well.]

Quote from Bartjeebus >>

[Mud, since you have advantage on the attack due to the spell, you can apply sneak attack damage as well.]

 [Cool}

4 

The tiny magic stone connects with the monster's shoulder, causing an audible 'thunk' that is heard across the battlefield.

Two enemies have multiplied into six, and the Manitcore finds itself battered from all sides.  Even the food in the tower is now shooting energy beams at it.  It wheels in the air and snarls at the halflings in the tower, "Grrrr... I'll return to eat you another day!"

It then beats its wings furiously, dashing 100ft to the east, off of the battlefield and away.

[Unless someone wishes to try to pursue the creature somehow, combat is over.]

“Don’t you ‘dag nabbit’ me! I got more know how in my little finger than in your whole head!” A voice in the windmill shouts at his compatriot with the sound of a slap fight occurring. 

"Hey! Hey you!! I am not done talking to you!!" Yells Droknin indignantly, but he will not pursue the monster. He will observe the fleeing creature to make sure it will not come back.

Olan is concerned by the unexpected appearance of this monster.  If it has a lair nearby, that is something the people of Phandalin will need to be aware of.  He excuses himself to trail the monster back to its den, promising to catch up with all of you at a later time if he is able.

Soon the heavy door of the tower opens, and an athletic halfling woman of perhaps 25-30 years invites the rest of you inside.  "Come on then.  Wipe your feet.  I appreciate the timely intervention.  I'm not sure how we were going to talk our way out of that one.  The name's Adabra Gwynn.  You met my uncles, Garrin and Bert... sort of." 

The ground floor of the tower has been repurposed into a cozy living space.   The space where the grain wheel once sat has been converted into a semi-circular sitting area.  She welcomes you all to have a seat and asks what has brought you out to her home today?

Bert is sat at a table sipping tea when the adventurers come in. His pale complexion makes the red hand-shaped mark on his cheek really stand out - it looks like he lost the slap battle with his brother. He leans over his shoulder and says to the Halfling man with the staff, "Garrin, be a dear and fetch these lads and lasses some cups (the bad ones; they don't look too hygienic)."

Then he turns his attention back to the group of strangers, "You're just in time for tea and biscuits." He pushes two tins brimming with cookies across the table. "I won't say whose is whose, but I insist you tell us which biscuits are better." He looks to his brother and smugly raises an eyebrow.

Garrin grumbles under his breath, a Halfling with a magnificent set of silvery, curly hair over a face somewhere around active maturity, judging by the wrinkles. 

He returns shortly carrying  individual - and stained-  tea cups. 

The woman realised her mistake as soon as she stepped through the door. The inhabitants were quite welcoming, quite outgoing - conclusively, quite suspicious. The space inside the windmill seemed to suddenly shrink.

"We were told to come here for information" she admits, without sitting down. "The timing was merely an accident. We were looking for an old friend - at least some of us - when we were caught up in whatever is going on in town. Briefly, we are looking for any information about the business Gundren Rockseeker  was - is - involved in."

She stares at the biscuits for a moment, repressing the recently awoken suspicion. There is no way they poisoned the food, right? They were not expecting anyone. Besides, they have no reason to do that. Unable to get rid of the slight bad feeling, she reaches for a teacup, thanking both men. She wraps two hands around the container, still hesitating, breathing in the familiar scent of tea, and tracing a stain with her forefinger.

"Do you get guests often?" she asks, to rid herself of the awkward silence. Furrowing her brows, she adds : "Do the Redbrands give you any trouble?" 

Adabra listens to Keashirryl's different questions.  "I'm not sure what help I can be... I know of the Rockseeker brothers but I'm not well versed in their business.  Word around Phandalin was that they were prospecting in the hills to the east of town.  There was talk about them maybe starting a new mine, or re-opening an old shaft, and the promise of jobs to go along with it, but as far as I know its all just talk.  Why do you ask?  Has something happened?"

"I do get guests on occasion.  Folk from the town come to see me for herbal remedies.  And my uncles here come to visit me every week, like clockwork."  

"The Redbrands..." she spits on her own floor, then scuffs it away with her shoe.  "Real pieces of work, that crew.  They don't come out as far as my windmill to bother me - probably too lazy - but they are a pox on Phandalin.  Just last week, I was in town to provide midwife services.  They had the gall to demand I pay them 25% of my fee as a 'tax.'  Then, when I told them I didn't charge for my services, they turned around and told the new father that they were going to charge him on my behalf!  5gp, that the family surely needed with a new babe in the house.  They're parasites."

"Uhmm... No tea please, thank you." Droknin replies politely to Garrin. He stands in a corner behind Keashirryl, and he just listens to the conversation.

"I appreciate it, but no tea for me, either." Mud did, however, accept a cookie from each tin and tasted them as he sat against a wall.

Garrin looks appalled, and moves to whisper (loudly)  to his brother. ”This bunch musta’ been raised in a barn to turn down tea! Like they ain’t guests in THIS home! What is the world coming to.” He puts down the tea with a clatter and glares over his own cup. 

"Those rumours about the mine have probably been true. Rockseeker hired us to escort his goods, meaning he clearly had a plan. The problem is, Gundren was abducted before he could share the details." she answers, somewhat calmer than before. 

"Speaking of which, does any of you have an idea about the whereabouts of a place called Cragmaw castle?" she looks back and forth between Adabra and her two uncles. "Since you two journey here regularly, I figure you might know the area better than we do."

She is a little startled hearing the opinions of Garrin, which results in a short cough, but she successfully avoids muttering an insult. These people take tea quite seriously, she notes instead to herself. 

Garrin shakes his head. “Naw, naw, no one here knows much about that. You’ll need to head to Thundertree if you want to learn about them.” 

He loudly sips his tea. 

Thundertree. It sounded to Drokin something that Leonins would name a place after, and it picked his interest. “Where is this Thundertree?” He asks the Halfling sipping tea.

Bert gives his brother a knowing looks over the rim of his teacup, but says nothing - he, too, seems distraught at the manners of their guests and their lack of interest in tea.

Regarding Thundertree, he turns to Drokin and explains, "Thundertree was a village on the edge of Neverwinter Wood, but it was destroyed by a volcanic eruption years ago. I think my dear brother is remembering something I had forgotten - our good friend Reidoth lives there still and was complaining about some 'Cragmaw' goblins not long ago. He might be able to tell you more about them and if they have a castle." his face says that the idea of goblins having a castle is laughable.

"Thundertree is straight north of Phandalin and straight east of Neverwinter, right on the edge of the Neverwinter Wood." He takes another sip of tea and looks to his brother and niece.

Adabra listens to the conversation.  "Your friend Reidoth?  You mean that shaggy haired old hermit you boys play dice with?"  She rolls her eyes and then looks at Keashirryl.  "If you head up that way, you're in for a real treat.  Just be sure to keep upwind of the old boy, eh?"

She then turns back to her uncles.  "And just when were you two in Thundertree, then?  I thought you promised to keep your wanderings to a minimum?  The roads ain't safe these days."  She pours herself another spot of tea.  "Orcs... goblins... now bloody manticores.  Everything under the sun it seems is stirred up and looking for trouble."

Bert smiles at his niece's concern. "Trouble can't catch me, Adabra. They don't call me 'Hundredlegs' for nothing." He winks at her, but then says seriously to the group, "She's right though. You folks should be careful; the world's off balance, these days. Wise folk'd keep their heads down right about now."

Garrin tsks at Adabra’s rebuke, and pretends not to hear the rest as he moves his eyes to look off at their guests, and away from their niece.