He took a mental note to try avoid leaving negotiations to Thurodim. The man was too abrasive on his manners and sometimes that could be enough to make new enemies. Mala corrected the half-orc with while Faera questioned if they should help the robbed. Part of the elf wished to say yes. He would very much like to have a chance to beat those judgmental thieves. But he knew better than to act on such wishes. Any pursuit was certain to cost time and any time wasted could mean the end of a life. They had a killer to catch.
Ilithir remained silent on road. Shield on arm, attention on his sheathed blade. Fortunately no warnings, no attacks. Arriving in Soft Rest he could not help but consider if the talk about the deaths numbering over twenty were not true. The air was heavy with fear and tension.
“Before we compromise with renting rooms, shouldn’t we check with the mayor?” He asked the others, trying to remember all of the questions he had make to Landgrave about the incident. Now that he thought about it, the silver haired found it rather strange that they found more information about the attacks on a tavern that in mayor’s letter. “He may have some accommodations for us, and it may be more convenient to stand closer to him.”
"The Mayor? Ha," the half-elf lets out a hoarse, humourless laugh. "Good luck with that. You'd be lucky to see him even in the morning, he hasn't seen anyone in a week. Locked himself in his house, the coward. But you're welcome to try. It's the one next to the Temple. Curfew's at sundown though, so don't stay out too late. Who knows what's out there." He grimaces a little, his face reflecting his thoughts. "I'll get those drinks."
Sunset is in about two hours, so given the small size of the town you shouldn't have any worries about getting to the Mayor's house and back, if you intend to obey the curfew.
Thurodim, no one seems to be paying the group any undue attention. With a little observation you can start to guess at who are locals, caught up in their own thoughts and quiet conversations, and fellow travellers, more relaxed but put off by the atmosphere and not wanting to break the quiet.
Ghurr
"You want 'em all?" the man says, raising an eyebrow. "You're welcome to 'em if you can afford it, they won't keep till tomorrow. Don't know what you'll do with 'em all, but then maybe a big lad like you needs to eat a lot, what do I know. Pies are a Moon each, pastries are 5 Crowns." He does a quick tally of his remaining produce. "Looks like about 10 pies, maybe 15 pastries. Call it one and a half Stars? I hope you've got a bag or somethin', I'm not selling the boxes.
And yeah, people are scared witless. You've not heard of the deaths here? Something's been killing folk north of town, woodsmen, farm hands. This is a small town, it's hit hard. It's only got worse since Blackbarrel hid hisself away - the leader sets the tone, yeah? Last few days most have stayed home, or in the Watchman - safety in numbers see? Even the few who kept working are knocking off early. But I'm a born business, me! No evil monster's going to see me off!"
"We should go and see Blackbarrel after drinks then."Thurodim says with a nod to Ilithir. "Maybe he wants us to stay there to protect him."The massive half-orc chuckles, finding it strange with a leader that wasn't prepared to lead his people, especially in challenging times such as these. At sea there would surely have been a mutiny by now.
Faera listens to the half-elf and ponders the idea of staying with the mayor that Ilithir brings up. She isn't sure about that, but keeps her opinion to herself. She thanks the man for the directions and as he heads off to get their drinks, "Yes, we should definitely give the mayor a visit this evening before sunset. I wonder how forthcoming he will be when it's obvious the opinion of him is pretty dismal."
Thurodim shrugs. "I think he would like the problem to go away, he should at least point us in the right direction."He says to Faera, then looking at Mala for her thoughts.
Mala shrugs at Faera's comment, "The mayor may just not have the ability or resources to do anything. He sent to Fort Imma for help though. These people are just upset and it's easy to pick on the mayor. Anyhow, we can just down those drinks really quick when they get here and get over there."
The man laughs good-naturedly at Ghurr's assessment. "Y'know what, I think you're right. But look, here you are buying 'em, so I guess it paid off. One star is it? Alright, you've got a deal!"
Ghurr is welcome to take as many pies and pastries as he can carry. The pies are round and full, about 4 inches across, the top edge pinched together almost creating a crown-like look. The pastries are little semi-circles, also about 4 inches across, bearing cut-out pastry symbols of either an apple or a pear.
"Like claws, so I heard. Ripped apart, poor souls. Temple cemetery'll be getting a good few more residents." He shakes his head. "I knew most of 'em too, at least to say hello to. It's a small town, if you stayed here a week you'd probably have met everyone there is. If only Tarwen were still here." He looks towards the statue on which Oliver is perched. "She'd soon sort this mess out."
He packs his now empty boxes onto his small cart, folds up his table and hangs it on a couple of hooks on the side. "Well, pleasure doing business with you boss. I don't think I'll bother coming out tomorrow, it's just not worth it right now. In fact, I might just get myself to Imma, or Whitebridge, try to get myself set up before Sunstir. I'm not scared of no monster!" he assures you. "But you've got to go where the business is, and it ain't here." And he trundles off.
Back in the tavern, the half-elf comes back to the table with a tray full of ale. Ghurr not being there, and a number not being specified, he has only brought 4. "Enjoy," he grumbles half-heartedly.
Thurodim quickly gulps down most of his ale before looking around the tap room. "Where did Ghurr go?" He rumbles, glancing around at the others at the table.
Faera doesn't really respond to Mala and Thurodim on the mayor, just lets the comments hang in the air and she drinks from her mug of ale. Her stomach rumbles and she finds herself wishing for more time so they could eat before heading to the mayor's home, but she knows they need to move.
At Thurodim's question on Ghurr, she says casually, "Oh, he is chatting with one of the merchants out in the square. Seems to be buying some pies. Ha, I think that is why my stomach is rumbling! Oliver is keeping an eye on him."
"Oliver? Your bird? You have trained him well then. Mr. Bleeches wouldn't stand watch for long, would go look for cheese." Thurodim says with an embarrased smile, scratching his head, then finishing up his ale. He chuckles as Faera mentions her stomach rumbling. "Wait til I get hungry, then you will hear rumble." He says with a grin. "Perhaps Ghurr will share his pies, he seems kind." He adds after moment.
Ghurr nods at the merchant as he leaves, repeating what he has learned to himself - claws ripping people apart and seems to be all north of the village.
He then looks over his pies and pastries. Ghurr looks around then back to the statue with Faera’s owl on top. He waves to it.
”Need help carry pies.”
He then test stacks several of the pies, carefully not to crush them. If no help comes he just starts ferrying as many as he can carry without crushing them to the tavern, laying them out before his companions, then going back to get the rest.
Faera smiles as Thurodim compares her familiar with the little mouse he carries around. "Well, they aren't exactly apples and oranges."
Before she gets a chance to go into any sort of explanation, she gets the message from Oliver and a big smile crosses her face, "Ooh pies! Come on, Ghurr needs help carrying them!" and she runs out of the tavern, salivating, thinking about the pies..
"No, you are right, they are animals, not fruits." Thurodim chuckles at Faera's joke. "Why carry, why not just eat?"The massive half-orc says as he stands up and follows Faera outside.
Blaming the mayor for not stopping the attacks, Ilithir thought while sipping his ale. It was common enough of an occurrence. Most people wanted a distraction for the fear. Blaming someone, demanding from someone, was an easy answer and that without considering the possibility that, very much Landgrave, Blackbarrel had politic opposition. Easiest way to demoralize someone in power is to blame him for a problem unsolved.
“He is the very definition of a gentle giant.” The elf answered Thurodim comment about Ghurr.“We can take the chance to help the big guy and ask a thing or two of the merchant.” He finished rising from his seat and following Faera, although in a far more composed manner, walking instead of running and with no clear interest on the pies.
Having information to compare to whatever the mayor would tell them could always be useful. There was always the chance Blackbarrel was behind the whole situation, either through free will or forced by magic. The thought made Ilithir question if the Lieutenant had finished checking Corporal Singer for any enchantment spell. Something tells this one mission is just the start. And only the Seldarine knew if that was good. It could mean more coin, but it could also mean antagonizing truly powerful figures.
Faera happily takes a couple of pies from Ghurr. "Great job, big guy. That's very helpful information. These look delicious as well, shall we eat some here? I'd like to get to the Mayor's as soon as possible. Or did we want to pile these up somewhere? Sheesh you sure got a lot!" Her eyes are wide as she looks at all the delicious choices in front of her, stomach growling again.
When the ale arrives, Mala grabs one and downs it quickly, much as Thurodim had. When Faera mentions Ghurr needs help with some pies, she watches her, then Thurodim, then Ilithir headed outside. She was still sitting at the table, considering the two remaining ales sitting on the table. Unsure if she was supposed to watch them or not, she finally rises from her seat and slowly makes her way across the room to head outside with the others.
She seems to have arrived after Ghurr had already ladened the others with the baked goods. "How did you end up with so much, Ghurr!" she says with a smile. "Are we on our way to the mayor now?"
Coming after Faera, Thurodim nods and grunts in concurrance, holding out his arms for Ghurr to laden him down with pies and pastries, opening his mouth for Ghurr to drop in a pastry there too. "Should we bring these to the mayor or eat them first?" He asks as he has gobbled down the pastry, looking between Faera and Ghurr.
Ghurr is happy to see his companions enjoying the pies.
"Pie maker had many left. No one in market. Not good. And Ghurr hungry. So think help pie maker, get good food, and maybe more information than mayor will say." Ghurr says.
He looks around the quiet streets.
"We could eat on way," Ghurr says, offering Thurodim another pastry. "Can't be far."
Ghurr looks at the statue in the center of the square more closely, wondering if it's of the person Tarwen the pie merchant mentioned. He looks for a plaque as well.
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He took a mental note to try avoid leaving negotiations to Thurodim. The man was too abrasive on his manners and sometimes that could be enough to make new enemies. Mala corrected the half-orc with while Faera questioned if they should help the robbed. Part of the elf wished to say yes. He would very much like to have a chance to beat those judgmental thieves. But he knew better than to act on such wishes. Any pursuit was certain to cost time and any time wasted could mean the end of a life. They had a killer to catch.
Ilithir remained silent on road. Shield on arm, attention on his sheathed blade. Fortunately no warnings, no attacks. Arriving in Soft Rest he could not help but consider if the talk about the deaths numbering over twenty were not true. The air was heavy with fear and tension.
“Before we compromise with renting rooms, shouldn’t we check with the mayor?” He asked the others, trying to remember all of the questions he had make to Landgrave about the incident. Now that he thought about it, the silver haired found it rather strange that they found more information about the attacks on a tavern that in mayor’s letter. “He may have some accommodations for us, and it may be more convenient to stand closer to him.”
"The Mayor? Ha," the half-elf lets out a hoarse, humourless laugh. "Good luck with that. You'd be lucky to see him even in the morning, he hasn't seen anyone in a week. Locked himself in his house, the coward. But you're welcome to try. It's the one next to the Temple. Curfew's at sundown though, so don't stay out too late. Who knows what's out there." He grimaces a little, his face reflecting his thoughts. "I'll get those drinks."
Sunset is in about two hours, so given the small size of the town you shouldn't have any worries about getting to the Mayor's house and back, if you intend to obey the curfew.
Thurodim, no one seems to be paying the group any undue attention. With a little observation you can start to guess at who are locals, caught up in their own thoughts and quiet conversations, and fellow travellers, more relaxed but put off by the atmosphere and not wanting to break the quiet.
Ghurr
"You want 'em all?" the man says, raising an eyebrow. "You're welcome to 'em if you can afford it, they won't keep till tomorrow. Don't know what you'll do with 'em all, but then maybe a big lad like you needs to eat a lot, what do I know. Pies are a Moon each, pastries are 5 Crowns." He does a quick tally of his remaining produce. "Looks like about 10 pies, maybe 15 pastries. Call it one and a half Stars? I hope you've got a bag or somethin', I'm not selling the boxes.
And yeah, people are scared witless. You've not heard of the deaths here? Something's been killing folk north of town, woodsmen, farm hands. This is a small town, it's hit hard. It's only got worse since Blackbarrel hid hisself away - the leader sets the tone, yeah? Last few days most have stayed home, or in the Watchman - safety in numbers see? Even the few who kept working are knocking off early. But I'm a born business, me! No evil monster's going to see me off!"
DM - Storm King's Thunder
DM - Torosevia (WIP homebrew world)
Kelytha Meliamne - Matti Silverstorm - Silver - Star-Setting-In-The-East - Tor Baltos
"We should go and see Blackbarrel after drinks then." Thurodim says with a nod to Ilithir. "Maybe he wants us to stay there to protect him." The massive half-orc chuckles, finding it strange with a leader that wasn't prepared to lead his people, especially in challenging times such as these. At sea there would surely have been a mutiny by now.
Faera listens to the half-elf and ponders the idea of staying with the mayor that Ilithir brings up. She isn't sure about that, but keeps her opinion to herself. She thanks the man for the directions and as he heads off to get their drinks, "Yes, we should definitely give the mayor a visit this evening before sunset. I wonder how forthcoming he will be when it's obvious the opinion of him is pretty dismal."
Thurodim shrugs. "I think he would like the problem to go away, he should at least point us in the right direction." He says to Faera, then looking at Mala for her thoughts.
Ghurr frowns
"But if not buy then you have throw away because not keep," Ghurr says. "Think you make too many."
He then looks to the north of the town.
"Like animal kills? Teeth? Claws?" Ghurr asks. "Or like weapon - blades? Or maybe magic?"
(Moon = silver? Crown = copper? Stars = gold?)
If the above conversion is correct, Ghurr offers a gold piece for the lot.
Mala shrugs at Faera's comment, "The mayor may just not have the ability or resources to do anything. He sent to Fort Imma for help though. These people are just upset and it's easy to pick on the mayor. Anyhow, we can just down those drinks really quick when they get here and get over there."
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard || Iromae Quinaea, Cleric
Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer || Bronnryn Hethgar, Cleric
That is correct, here's the link to the WA page again.
The man laughs good-naturedly at Ghurr's assessment. "Y'know what, I think you're right. But look, here you are buying 'em, so I guess it paid off. One star is it? Alright, you've got a deal!"
Ghurr is welcome to take as many pies and pastries as he can carry. The pies are round and full, about 4 inches across, the top edge pinched together almost creating a crown-like look. The pastries are little semi-circles, also about 4 inches across, bearing cut-out pastry symbols of either an apple or a pear.
"Like claws, so I heard. Ripped apart, poor souls. Temple cemetery'll be getting a good few more residents." He shakes his head. "I knew most of 'em too, at least to say hello to. It's a small town, if you stayed here a week you'd probably have met everyone there is. If only Tarwen were still here." He looks towards the statue on which Oliver is perched. "She'd soon sort this mess out."
He packs his now empty boxes onto his small cart, folds up his table and hangs it on a couple of hooks on the side. "Well, pleasure doing business with you boss. I don't think I'll bother coming out tomorrow, it's just not worth it right now. In fact, I might just get myself to Imma, or Whitebridge, try to get myself set up before Sunstir. I'm not scared of no monster!" he assures you. "But you've got to go where the business is, and it ain't here." And he trundles off.
Back in the tavern, the half-elf comes back to the table with a tray full of ale. Ghurr not being there, and a number not being specified, he has only brought 4. "Enjoy," he grumbles half-heartedly.
DM - Storm King's Thunder
DM - Torosevia (WIP homebrew world)
Kelytha Meliamne - Matti Silverstorm - Silver - Star-Setting-In-The-East - Tor Baltos
Thurodim quickly gulps down most of his ale before looking around the tap room. "Where did Ghurr go?" He rumbles, glancing around at the others at the table.
Faera doesn't really respond to Mala and Thurodim on the mayor, just lets the comments hang in the air and she drinks from her mug of ale. Her stomach rumbles and she finds herself wishing for more time so they could eat before heading to the mayor's home, but she knows they need to move.
At Thurodim's question on Ghurr, she says casually, "Oh, he is chatting with one of the merchants out in the square. Seems to be buying some pies. Ha, I think that is why my stomach is rumbling! Oliver is keeping an eye on him."
"Oliver? Your bird? You have trained him well then. Mr. Bleeches wouldn't stand watch for long, would go look for cheese." Thurodim says with an embarrased smile, scratching his head, then finishing up his ale. He chuckles as Faera mentions her stomach rumbling. "Wait til I get hungry, then you will hear rumble." He says with a grin. "Perhaps Ghurr will share his pies, he seems kind." He adds after moment.
Ghurr nods at the merchant as he leaves, repeating what he has learned to himself - claws ripping people apart and seems to be all north of the village.
He then looks over his pies and pastries. Ghurr looks around then back to the statue with Faera’s owl on top. He waves to it.
”Need help carry pies.”
He then test stacks several of the pies, carefully not to crush them. If no help comes he just starts ferrying as many as he can carry without crushing them to the tavern, laying them out before his companions, then going back to get the rest.
Faera smiles as Thurodim compares her familiar with the little mouse he carries around. "Well, they aren't exactly apples and oranges."
Before she gets a chance to go into any sort of explanation, she gets the message from Oliver and a big smile crosses her face, "Ooh pies! Come on, Ghurr needs help carrying them!" and she runs out of the tavern, salivating, thinking about the pies..
"No, you are right, they are animals, not fruits." Thurodim chuckles at Faera's joke.
"Why carry, why not just eat?" The massive half-orc says as he stands up and follows Faera outside.
Blaming the mayor for not stopping the attacks, Ilithir thought while sipping his ale. It was common enough of an occurrence. Most people wanted a distraction for the fear. Blaming someone, demanding from someone, was an easy answer and that without considering the possibility that, very much Landgrave, Blackbarrel had politic opposition. Easiest way to demoralize someone in power is to blame him for a problem unsolved.
“He is the very definition of a gentle giant.” The elf answered Thurodim comment about Ghurr. “We can take the chance to help the big guy and ask a thing or two of the merchant.” He finished rising from his seat and following Faera, although in a far more composed manner, walking instead of running and with no clear interest on the pies.
Having information to compare to whatever the mayor would tell them could always be useful. There was always the chance Blackbarrel was behind the whole situation, either through free will or forced by magic. The thought made Ilithir question if the Lieutenant had finished checking Corporal Singer for any enchantment spell. Something tells this one mission is just the start. And only the Seldarine knew if that was good. It could mean more coin, but it could also mean antagonizing truly powerful figures.
Ghurr smiles at the arrival of the others and lades them down with pies and pastries.
”Think maybe merchants be more honest so talk them. Say killings mostly north of village and look like death caused by claws.”
Faera happily takes a couple of pies from Ghurr. "Great job, big guy. That's very helpful information. These look delicious as well, shall we eat some here? I'd like to get to the Mayor's as soon as possible. Or did we want to pile these up somewhere? Sheesh you sure got a lot!" Her eyes are wide as she looks at all the delicious choices in front of her, stomach growling again.
When the ale arrives, Mala grabs one and downs it quickly, much as Thurodim had. When Faera mentions Ghurr needs help with some pies, she watches her, then Thurodim, then Ilithir headed outside. She was still sitting at the table, considering the two remaining ales sitting on the table. Unsure if she was supposed to watch them or not, she finally rises from her seat and slowly makes her way across the room to head outside with the others.
She seems to have arrived after Ghurr had already ladened the others with the baked goods. "How did you end up with so much, Ghurr!" she says with a smile. "Are we on our way to the mayor now?"
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard || Iromae Quinaea, Cleric
Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer || Bronnryn Hethgar, Cleric
Coming after Faera, Thurodim nods and grunts in concurrance, holding out his arms for Ghurr to laden him down with pies and pastries, opening his mouth for Ghurr to drop in a pastry there too. "Should we bring these to the mayor or eat them first?" He asks as he has gobbled down the pastry, looking between Faera and Ghurr.
Ghurr is happy to see his companions enjoying the pies.
"Pie maker had many left. No one in market. Not good. And Ghurr hungry. So think help pie maker, get good food, and maybe more information than mayor will say." Ghurr says.
He looks around the quiet streets.
"We could eat on way," Ghurr says, offering Thurodim another pastry. "Can't be far."
Ghurr looks at the statue in the center of the square more closely, wondering if it's of the person Tarwen the pie merchant mentioned. He looks for a plaque as well.