Nothing springs to mind immediately but she does know that folk often like to give beings they fear friendly sounding nicknames or descriptions to keep them on good terms or just to allay their fears a little, such as The Good Folk or Hidden Folk or Goodfellow etc.
The air is smoky from the fire in the middle of the building. A cow has been slaughtered and is slowly roasting over the hearth. There are several people here, and among them you quickly pick out the men you saw outside.
“ Begging your Lordships pardon but we have little in the way of hospitality to offer at this time,” declares one, stepping up to you. “These are lean times and we are honest working folk. Toil is the most respected virtue in Norham. Perhaps Gullys Inn, further east would be more fitting a resting place.” Everyone in the room has fallen silent. They watch you with sullen expressions, the tension in the room is palpable.
Almeric drew himself up to his full height, removing his Nasal Helm with a broad smile on his face.
"Good people of Norham. I am Sir Almeric Dayne, a duly appointed officer to Sir Beorn of Gorham and acting on his recognisance. These fellows are my retinue on the official business of Baron Aldred. We are looking for Harold the Tax Collector and needs find him as a matter of urgency. Information suggests he rode near to a place called Hob's Dell? Any news, rumour, or gossip could be useful and will be rewarded if valuable to me." Almeric indicates Fergus "Speak with my Clerk to claim a reward." PERSUASION = 23
Almeric makes his way to the Bar Keep, with his confidence gait and broad smile. "I require bed and board for myself and my retinue if you please. I will pay in gold for this service, and do not claim the right of hospitality. Speak with my Clerk, who will pay you what is owed."
The man breaks into a broad smile at Almerics words and nods vigorously indicating a place by the fire.
" Some beef and beer for our esteemed guests, who will be gracing our presence with their charm and gold."
" My name is Hyple, Good Sir and I am very pleased to be of service."
" Now....you mentioned old Harald. Its a funny thing that..."
" “The tax collector rode through Norham just before dawn a few days’ ago, as though Old Nick himself were right behind. Only a short time later, two men on frothing horses came pounding through. They must soon have caught up with the first man."
" Some time later, the tax collector’s horse came limping back into the village.”
A man who introduces himself as Will, the local smith, ambles over with a mug of ale in his hand and takes up the story: “I caught the poor beast’s reins myself. It was stumbling about and rolling its eyes—shivering like it’d been ridden hard all night. Its saddlebags had been slit with a knife, cleaned out but for a few copper pieces.”
“The other two men rode back just after that,” says Hyple. “They paid none of us any heed, just bantered with one another in the nervous manner of men who’ve done an evil deed. They glanced at the horse as they rode by, and one of them grinned at the other and patted his saddlebag, but they didn’t stop.”
A solidly built older woman began passing out heaped wooden platters of sliced beef and wooden cups of beer to the retinue, giving sly winks to Tana and Famh as she slipped a couple of extra slices onto their platters.
Listening to the conversation, Famh leans over and whispers to Cainneach. "Sounds like mere mortal bandits so far, though I wonder how that prize sword could have fit in the thief's saddlebag. And I'd think the landlord would have noticed such a thing if he'd worn it openly. I'm still not sure the dell isn't Fey ground, though. You remember how in the old stories back home, the Old Ones were always given some petting nickname like 'Shepherd Jack' to try and keep them mollycoddled? And why should Harald's horse be shivering when it came back if it was only mortal bandits?"
Thatch shares a knowing glance with Cainneah and nods “Aye, we will look after each other.” He moves toward the front of the group as they travel the muddy track toward Norham and helps to scout ahead where he can. As they arrive in the village and enter the low building, Thatch moves into a dark corner, easily getting out of sight and mind of the crowd. He steps forward to get a plate of the sliced beef and beer and then steps back. With nothing to add to the conversation, he eats silently and listens to the crowd intently for other clues or details to the tale from the townsfolk. Perception: 16.
Fergus grumbles to himself at the lack of horses, only in that he had finally gotten used to riding long distance. He quickly produces a quarterstaff, worn and etched from battles past. As he starts to trek and use it as a walking stick, it is clear this was a weapon that had a previous owner and was nothing but a sturdy stick in Fergus' eyes. He studies the countryside as they travel though not with wonder but caution and that peevishness that townies have for the great outdoors.
Entering the building, Fegus looks around the room meeting the eyes of any who would stare back. The hardships of life echo in the connections made as Sir Almeric honeyed them with his words. He chooses to sit near the closest thing to a cook and share some of his rations for the meal, believing in the spirit of hospitality to share what one had. Slipping out his book he starts to jot down the details provided by the locals.
"Can you describe these men?" Fergus asks with suspicion on his mind (Insight 21 on the story from Hyple and Will). It seems unlikely that the brigands would leave behind a valuable sword and this vague tale could easily be a cover for the local if they were behind the robbery.
As the companions trudge along the track leading into Norham, Famh pulls the hood of her traveling cloak up to obscure her features. She didn't want to look like she was trying to hide her face, so she stopped short of completely concealing it; but if they were already nervous about Fey creatures here she did NOT think they'd react well if they realized there was a half-Fey in the heavily armed group now marching into town. And though she had her suspicions that some of her new traveling companions were more kin to her in that regard than she'd thought, her features seemed to be the most blatantly strange. At least, she didn't see any stone scars on any of the other's arms or faces ... though she supposed they might have concealed theirs even better than she had. Some pollen from the Queen Anne's lace flower and a little goose grease could do wonders for a girl ... She shook her head and drew herself back to the present, falling back to walk a pace or so behind Cainneach. "I don't think they like fey folk here.," she whispers to him. "I'd best be your apprentice or someaught like that ... folk might be less likely to pay much notice to me, think?"
Cainneach takes turns with Thatch scouting the road ahead on the way to Norham. Thus far, the travel has been relatively quiet, although the road is in bad shape. The two turn up little more than ruts to avoid and some especially large puddles. It's clear that some in the party may not be accustomed to journeying through such muck, but between Cainneach's escape through Ereworn and time in the forest, and Famh's upbringing in the moors of Thuland, at least the two of them aren't too put out by the conditions. Cainneach is amused by her ceaseless collecting, but admires it nonetheless. Old habits die hard and one never knows when Famh's preparation could save their lives.
Cainneach whispers back to Famh, "It couldn't hurt ... I'll play at whatever role you like. As I said, I'll do whatever's in my power to keep you from coming to harm, especially at the hands of those who don't respect or appreciate the fey. In the meantime, keep your head down, as you've been doing, and I'll keep a sharp eye out for any potential trouble."
Upon entering Norham, Cainneach will do just that, attempting to assess the situation for anything unusual or threatening. However, his experience in villages like these is limited, and his skills are of greater use in the wilds.
Listening to the conversation, Famh leans over and whispers to Cainneach. "Sounds like mere mortal bandits so far, though I wonder how that prize sword could have fit in the thief's saddlebag. And I'd think the landlord would have noticed such a thing if he'd worn it openly. I'm still not sure the dell isn't Fey ground, though. You remember how in the old stories back home, the Old Ones were always given some petting nickname like 'Shepherd Jack' to try and keep them mollycoddled? And why should Harald's horse be shivering when it came back if it was only mortal bandits?"
In the tavern, Cainneach is, as usual, somewhat overwhelmed by the number of people and the close quarters. He will rely on his trained powers of observation to take in his surroundings while listening to the exchange between Almeric, Hyple, and Will. Cainneach will wave away the meat and ale and look for something vegetarian. If he's unable to find anything, he'll eat rations from his pack. Cainneach notes Thatch slipping away from the group and smiles to himself, contemplating attempting the same, but knowing he'd likely be unable to match his friend's skill.
"I think you're right in that there is something missing from their story, whether they know it or not. And I agree that it's likely there's something more to the dell. That's the sort of good advice that Almeric will certainly find useful, although you may have better luck relaying it to Fergus at the moment. An odd fellow, but he's certainly attentive and diligent with his notebook,"Cainneach responds to Famh.
Cainneach's own questions about the story, reinforced by Famh's, get him to thinking more about the conversation as well. He watches the two men carefully after the end of their tale, attempting to make out any further things they are saying (Cainneach can read lips via the Observant feat).
Listening to the conversation, Famh leans over and whispers to Cainneach. "Sounds like mere mortal bandits so far, though I wonder how that prize sword could have fit in the thief's saddlebag. And I'd think the landlord would have noticed such a thing if he'd worn it openly. I'm still not sure the dell isn't Fey ground, though. You remember how in the old stories back home, the Old Ones were always given some petting nickname like 'Shepherd Jack' to try and keep them mollycoddled? And why should Harald's horse be shivering when it came back if it was only mortal bandits?"
Thatch shares a knowing glance with Cainneah and nods “Aye, we will look after each other.” He moves toward the front of the group as they travel the muddy track toward Norham and helps to scout ahead where he can. As they arrive in the village and enter the low building, Thatch moves into a dark corner, easily getting out of sight and mind of the crowd. He steps forward to get a plate of the sliced beef and beer and then steps back. With nothing to add to the conversation, he eats silently and listens to the crowd intently for other clues or details to the tale from the townsfolk. Perception: 16.
Thatch-
" He's another one gone to Hobs Dell."
" If'n them thugs didnae get him then Ol' Jack would've."
" Not that I'm gonna miss a tax collector...thats the truth."
Fergus grumbles to himself at the lack of horses, only in that he had finally gotten used to riding long distance. He quickly produces a quarterstaff, worn and etched from battles past. As he starts to trek and use it as a walking stick, it is clear this was a weapon that had a previous owner and was nothing but a sturdy stick in Fergus' eyes. He studies the countryside as they travel though not with wonder but caution and that peevishness that townies have for the great outdoors.
Entering the building, Fegus looks around the room meeting the eyes of any who would stare back. The hardships of life echo in the connections made as Sir Almeric honeyed them with his words. He chooses to sit near the closest thing to a cook and share some of his rations for the meal, believing in the spirit of hospitality to share what one had. Slipping out his book he starts to jot down the details provided by the locals.
"Can you describe these men?" Fergus asks with suspicion on his mind (Insight 21 on the story from Hyple and Will). It seems unlikely that the brigands would leave behind a valuable sword and this vague tale could easily be a cover for the local if they were behind the robbery.
Fergus-
It seems to you that Hyple and Will, at least, seem to believe what they are saying and are relaying it as best they recall.
Will scrunches up his forehead, " They were wearing roughspun travellers hooded cloaks....but seemed armoured beneath it from the way they sat their horses. Bearded....men...dark hair..."
Cainneach takes turns with Thatch scouting the road ahead on the way to Norham. Thus far, the travel has been relatively quiet, although the road is in bad shape. The two turn up little more than ruts to avoid and some especially large puddles. It's clear that some in the party may not be accustomed to journeying through such muck, but between Cainneach's escape through Ereworn and time in the forest, and Famh's upbringing in the moors of Thuland, at least the two of them aren't too put out by the conditions. Cainneach is amused by her ceaseless collecting, but admires it nonetheless. Old habits die hard and one never knows when Famh's preparation could save their lives.
Cainneach whispers back to Famh, "It couldn't hurt ... I'll play at whatever role you like. As I said, I'll do whatever's in my power to keep you from coming to harm, especially at the hands of those who don't respect or appreciate the fey. In the meantime, keep your head down, as you've been doing, and I'll keep a sharp eye out for any potential trouble."
Upon entering Norham, Cainneach will do just that, attempting to assess the situation for anything unusual or threatening. However, his experience in villages like these is limited, and his skills are of greater use in the wilds.
Listening to the conversation, Famh leans over and whispers to Cainneach. "Sounds like mere mortal bandits so far, though I wonder how that prize sword could have fit in the thief's saddlebag. And I'd think the landlord would have noticed such a thing if he'd worn it openly. I'm still not sure the dell isn't Fey ground, though. You remember how in the old stories back home, the Old Ones were always given some petting nickname like 'Shepherd Jack' to try and keep them mollycoddled? And why should Harald's horse be shivering when it came back if it was only mortal bandits?"
In the tavern, Cainneach is, as usual, somewhat overwhelmed by the number of people and the close quarters. He will rely on his trained powers of observation to take in his surroundings while listening to the exchange between Almeric, Hyple, and Will. Cainneach will wave away the meat and ale and look for something vegetarian. If he's unable to find anything, he'll eat rations from his pack. Cainneach notes Thatch slipping away from the group and smiles to himself, contemplating attempting the same, but knowing he'd likely be unable to match his friend's skill.
"I think you're right in that there is something missing from their story, whether they know it or not. And I agree that it's likely there's something more to the dell. That's the sort of good advice that Almeric will certainly find useful, although you may have better luck relaying it to Fergus at the moment. An odd fellow, but he's certainly attentive and diligent with his notebook,"Cainneach responds to Famh.
Cainneach's own questions about the story, reinforced by Famh's, get him to thinking more about the conversation as well. He watches the two men carefully after the end of their tale, attempting to make out any further things they are saying (Cainneach can read lips via the Observant feat).
Cainneachs initial passes of the village reveal little and he is unable to make out much of what Will and Hyple are saying afterward due to both mens expansive facial hair and their habit of looking down as they spoke.
He does however overhear a few things among the crowd:
" He's another one gone to Hobs Dell."
" If'n them thugs didnae get him then Ol' Jack would've."
" Not that I'm gonna miss a tax collector...thats the truth."
" Who'd be such a fool to pass the iron fence?"
" The fence? Nay, Jack can range beyond it in the form of a great grizzled wolf....Old Rath saw him out of the mist right fore he passed."
"Well mates, this seems like an closed investigation indeed. You know maybe we could find some clues to what happened to the tax man if we saw his horse, where is the mare being kept. I assume with the details about the horse's state that you must have caught it. Perhaps our animal expert could take a look." Ori nods to Thatch, hoping his old stable hand days may come in handy. Leaning close to him he whispers "see if you get the same story and descriptions while your away from here." Sitting straight again he says louder, "So the tax man went which way again and which direction did our suspects come and go from?"
Fergus scribbles down the description of the two suspects, disgruntled at the vagueness and low probability of catching them. Thanking the cook, he puts away his book and joins Thatch and Ori off to the side, picking them up a fresh ale on route.
As he hands them the drinks he comments "Good questions Ori. Though I fear chasing down two horsemen on foot with at least a day's head start may be a lost cause. They could have all the coin spent while we chase around looking for dark bearded men. That said, if Mole's Jack picked them up we may be able to kill two birds with one stone."
Leaning on a nearby wall
"Think we should track down the sword? Finding the site of the robbery might provide us more clues on the thieves."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Thatch picks up on the conversation among the locals and circles around the room making small talk and taking advantage of their rustic hospitality to get some more information, asking each group a few questions. Persuasion: 14.
.“Hob’s Dell? What's that, is that nearby here?”
“Old Jack? Who is he?”
“Any other strange happenings around town lately?”
He finishes his circle near Ori and Fergus and nods at their suggestions. “Aye, I would be happy to look at the horse, maybe it has a tell or sign that Cainneach and I can use to track it and find out exactly where this happened. Can’t believe brigands would leave a sword behind. Must be more to the story.”
"Well mates, this seems like an closed investigation indeed. You know maybe we could find some clues to what happened to the tax man if we saw his horse, where is the mare being kept. I assume with the details about the horse's state that you must have caught it. Perhaps our animal expert could take a look." Ori nods to Thatch, hoping his old stable hand days may come in handy. Leaning close to him he whispers "see if you get the same story and descriptions while your away from here." Sitting straight again he says louder, "So the tax man went which way again and which direction did our suspects come and go from?"
Will offers to show them to the stable where Haralds mare is being kept.
“There can be no doubt he strayed near Hob’s Dell. Either the two men overtook him and butchered him there, or he hid from them in the Dell and Gardener Jack got him. He’ll not be seen in this world again.”
Fergus scribbles down the description of the two suspects, disgruntled at the vagueness and low probability of catching them. Thanking the cook, he puts away his book and joins Thatch and Ori off to the side, picking them up a fresh ale on route.
As he hands them the drinks he comments "Good questions Ori. Though I fear chasing down two horsemen on foot with at least a day's head start may be a lost cause. They could have all the coin spent while we chase around looking for dark bearded men. That said, if Mole's Jack picked them up we may be able to kill two birds with one stone."
Leaning on a nearby wall
"Think we should track down the sword? Finding the site of the robbery might provide us more clues on the thieves."
Thatch picks up on the conversation among the locals and circles around the room making small talk and taking advantage of their rustic hospitality to get some more information, asking each group a few questions. Persuasion: 11.
.“Hob’s Dell? What's that, is that nearby here?”
“Old Jack? Who is he?”
“Any other strange happenings around town lately?”
He finishes his circle near Ori and Fergus and nods at their suggestions. “Aye, I would be happy to look at the horse, maybe it has a tell or sign that Cainneach and I can use to track it and find out exactly where this happened. Can’t believe brigands would leave a sword behind. Must be more to the story.”
The answers to questions come in dribs and drabs between various villagers with, your fairly sure, quite some embellishments along the way.
" Hob’s Dell is a hollow up in low hills north of Norham Wood."
" It is enclosed by a fence of sharp iron palings that Saint Ambrosius is said to have put up one Twelfth Night long ago, to keep the evil of the hollow forever trapped inside."
"That place is permanently shrouded in fog, so that beyond the black railings of the fence one can usually see only a blanket of whiteness. Even on the hottest days of summer the fog maintains its grip on the place—it rolls back from the fence, but is never gone entirely. On such days, the tangled ‘garden’ within the hollow lies revealed: a clammy, weed-choked place where wisps of sickly white mist move through the long grass like snakes."
" My grandfather caught sight of gardener Jack roaming the moors about the Dell in his youth, turned his hair white as snow it did!"
" Aye, me gran says he’s a wizened dwarf with a giant’s head grinning like a madman!"
" Nay, Old Tibbas Great Aunt said he's a ragged wolf-jawed serpent who'll snap you up soon as look at you."
" He's a great ogre of a thing rattling along the fence that he's bound within, decorated with the skulls of his victims"
" He wanders the hills in the guise of a man in white robes, and lures travellers into the mists of the Dell."
Cainneach takes in some of the random comments from the crowd, although a lot of it's a jumble and he struggles to focus. After a minute or so, he turns to Famh and whispers, "I'm not sure if you're picking up the same things as I, but it seems these people are truly afraid of this Jack, whatever he may be. It sounds like there's an iron fence bordering the dell, but that Jack can travel outside of the dell in the form of a dire wolf. Some old man named Rath saw it, but he's since passed on. Maybe Fergus and Almeric might find that useful, along with the information you've got."Cainneach gestures over to where Fergus is huddled with Ori and Thatch.
Tana perks up notably when a horse is mentioned, leaning over toward Will with a curious gaze. She tampers down the interest in her voice when addressing him.
"Being able to see the mare would be of great use to us if she indeed knows of the Harald's journey." Her eyes meet Thatch's from across the way, her voice entering his mind as she does. 'If I could just get a moment with the mare, that could be all we need.'
Her gaze flickers away briefly as the voices of others pipe up with whisperings of Jack, inclining her head subtly in mild interest as a wolven form is brought up before returning her attention to the matter at hand – her sharpened gaze darting between Will and Thatch.
Fergus glances at his fellow adventurers, surprised that the horse could be seen as such a valuable witness. What secrets could they discover from hoof and mane? Or perhaps clues from the literal horse's mouth? Curious to see them in action and hopeful that he could spot something from the saddle to help the investigation he asks
"We should delay no longer then, Will, please lead the way."
Fergus glances at his fellow adventurers, surprised that the horse could be seen as such a valuable witness. What secrets could they discover from hoof and mane? Or perhaps clues from the literal horse's mouth? Curious to see them in action and hopeful that he could spot something from the saddle to help the investigation he asks
"We should delay no longer then, Will, please lead the way."
Will shrugs and leads Thatch, Tana and Fergus to the stable where a single palfrey stands looking at the visitors with interest.
Will shrugs and leads Thatch, Tana and Fergus to the stable where a single palfrey stands looking at the visitors with interest.
Tana brightens at the sight of the horse, approaching with a cautious hand outstretched.
'Hello there, dear mare. We come upon hearing of your most recent journey.'Tucking a strand of white hair back with her free hand, Tana continues her advance with a soft smile – typically only reserved for creatures of such nature. Internally she hopes her silent advance does not strike Will, or even Fergus, as too strange.
'You are said to have returned alone, panicked, and with no rider in sight.'Her internal voice remains calm and careful, tempered down to something soft and soothing so as to appear more approachable to those not typically heard by the common folk or of more wild origins.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
As Tana moves to calm the horse, hand outstretched, Thatch inspects the animal's tack and other gear, looking for any clue or sign the others may have missed. He also checks the animals shoes to determine if there is any unique marking or distinguishing feature that they could use to track the tax collector’s route in the muddy trail. “It looks like you have taken good care of her, that is a kindness.”Thatch remarks to Will.
Fergus leans against a nearby stall observing the two work. It was fascinating watching Tana connect with the horse wordlessly, her presence seemed to sooth the beast as a bond formed in front of his eyes. It was alien for him to see two beings connect without agenda. Sure, they were here to find information on the tax man but he had no doubt that Tana would be doing the same thing had they just met this horse for no reason. He dared not talk and even tried to hold his breath to not disturb them. As he feels waves of awe and jealousy sting his eyes with tears, he turns his attention to Thatch.
Not sure what Thatch could be looking for, Fergus can not help but admire the focus and determination as he turns over the gear. Inspired, he examines from a short distance away, taking all the bits in rather than focus on one. Like the jobs back in Clyster, sometimes you needed to take a step back to see the whole picture...
Will shrugs and leads Thatch, Tana and Fergus to the stable where a single palfrey stands looking at the visitors with interest.
Tana brightens at the sight of the horse, approaching with a cautious hand outstretched.
'Hello there, dear mare. We come upon hearing of your most recent journey.'Tucking a strand of white hair back with her free hand, Tana continues her advance with a soft smile – typically only reserved for creatures of such nature. Internally she hopes her silent advance does not strike Will, or even Fergus, as too strange.
'You are said to have returned alone, panicked, and with no rider in sight.'Her internal voice remains calm and careful, tempered down to something soft and soothing so as to appear more approachable to those not typically heard by the common folk or of more wild origins.
'Might you know of your rider's fate?'
" Oh....you can speak? I don't think I've met a rider that can speak before."
" My rider? Um...we were here then on the easy walk, then there were two other mares...but I didn't know them...but when I smelled them rider kicked me and we went onto the rough walk and up into the hills, but then I stumbled....I don't usually run...and almost never on the rough walk....so my rider fell off near the metal trees and then he left me alone.
The two mares found me , and took the weight from my back and struck me really hard so I ran again....and then I came here.
My rider...I don't know? I could not see or smell him once he went into the mist.
As Tana moves to calm the horse, hand outstretched, Thatch inspects the animal's tack and other gear, looking for any clue or sign the others may have missed. He also checks the animals shoes to determine if there is any unique marking or distinguishing feature that they could use to track the tax collector’s route in the muddy trail. “It looks like you have taken good care of her, that is a kindness.”Thatch remarks to Will.
Investigation: 17.
Perception: 24.
.
Will looks pleased and seems to note Thatchs familiarity with the animal and tack.
- there are no distinguishing marks on the shoes he does not recognise the smiths mark so it is likely the horse was shod further east.
- the saddlebags are empty...one of the buckles is broken and the strap stretched so whoever opened it recently was none to gentle.
- The hoes is favouring one leg very slightly, but it seems minor and almost healed.
Fergus leans against a nearby stall observing the two work. It was fascinating watching Tana connect with the horse wordlessly, her presence seemed to sooth the beast as a bond formed in front of his eyes. It was alien for him to see two beings connect without agenda. Sure, they were here to find information on the tax man but he had no doubt that Tana would be doing the same thing had they just met this horse for no reason. He dared not talk and even tried to hold his breath to not disturb them. As he feels waves of awe and jealousy sting his eyes with tears, he turns his attention to Thatch.
Not sure what Thatch could be looking for, Fergus can not help but admire the focus and determination as he turns over the gear. Inspired, he examines from a short distance away, taking all the bits in rather than focus on one. Like the jobs back in Clyster, sometimes you needed to take a step back to see the whole picture...
Investigation: 18
Will looks slightly nervous but you sense it is because of what has happened rather than any circumstances, if the taxes are truly missing and need to be replaced a lot of people will be suffering over winter and one of the first things they'll do is put off any smithing that needs to be done...so he's likely to be going hungry.
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Famh:-
Nothing springs to mind immediately but she does know that folk often like to give beings they fear friendly sounding nicknames or descriptions to keep them on good terms or just to allay their fears a little, such as The Good Folk or Hidden Folk or Goodfellow etc.
Almeric drew himself up to his full height, removing his Nasal Helm with a broad smile on his face.
"Good people of Norham. I am Sir Almeric Dayne, a duly appointed officer to Sir Beorn of Gorham and acting on his recognisance. These fellows are my retinue on the official business of Baron Aldred. We are looking for Harold the Tax Collector and needs find him as a matter of urgency. Information suggests he rode near to a place called Hob's Dell? Any news, rumour, or gossip could be useful and will be rewarded if valuable to me." Almeric indicates Fergus "Speak with my Clerk to claim a reward." PERSUASION = 23
Almeric makes his way to the Bar Keep, with his confidence gait and broad smile. "I require bed and board for myself and my retinue if you please. I will pay in gold for this service, and do not claim the right of hospitality. Speak with my Clerk, who will pay you what is owed."
The man breaks into a broad smile at Almerics words and nods vigorously indicating a place by the fire.
" Some beef and beer for our esteemed guests, who will be gracing our presence with their charm and gold."
" My name is Hyple, Good Sir and I am very pleased to be of service."
" Now....you mentioned old Harald. Its a funny thing that..."
" “The tax collector rode through Norham just before dawn a few days’ ago, as though Old Nick himself were right behind. Only a short time later, two men on frothing horses came pounding through. They must soon have caught up with the first man."
" Some time later, the tax collector’s horse came limping back into the village.”
A man who introduces himself as Will, the local smith, ambles over with a mug of ale in his hand and takes up the story: “I caught the poor beast’s reins myself. It was stumbling about and rolling its eyes—shivering like it’d been ridden hard all night. Its saddlebags had been slit with a knife, cleaned out but for a few copper pieces.”
“The other two men rode back just after that,” says Hyple. “They paid none of us any heed, just bantered with one another in the nervous manner of men who’ve done an evil deed. They glanced at the horse as they rode by, and one of them grinned at the other and patted his saddlebag, but they didn’t stop.”
A solidly built older woman began passing out heaped wooden platters of sliced beef and wooden cups of beer to the retinue, giving sly winks to Tana and Famh as she slipped a couple of extra slices onto their platters.
Listening to the conversation, Famh leans over and whispers to Cainneach. "Sounds like mere mortal bandits so far, though I wonder how that prize sword could have fit in the thief's saddlebag. And I'd think the landlord would have noticed such a thing if he'd worn it openly. I'm still not sure the dell isn't Fey ground, though. You remember how in the old stories back home, the Old Ones were always given some petting nickname like 'Shepherd Jack' to try and keep them mollycoddled? And why should Harald's horse be shivering when it came back if it was only mortal bandits?"
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Thatch shares a knowing glance with Cainneah and nods “Aye, we will look after each other.” He moves toward the front of the group as they travel the muddy track toward Norham and helps to scout ahead where he can. As they arrive in the village and enter the low building, Thatch moves into a dark corner, easily getting out of sight and mind of the crowd. He steps forward to get a plate of the sliced beef and beer and then steps back. With nothing to add to the conversation, he eats silently and listens to the crowd intently for other clues or details to the tale from the townsfolk. Perception: 16.
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Fergus grumbles to himself at the lack of horses, only in that he had finally gotten used to riding long distance. He quickly produces a quarterstaff, worn and etched from battles past. As he starts to trek and use it as a walking stick, it is clear this was a weapon that had a previous owner and was nothing but a sturdy stick in Fergus' eyes. He studies the countryside as they travel though not with wonder but caution and that peevishness that townies have for the great outdoors.
Entering the building, Fegus looks around the room meeting the eyes of any who would stare back. The hardships of life echo in the connections made as Sir Almeric honeyed them with his words. He chooses to sit near the closest thing to a cook and share some of his rations for the meal, believing in the spirit of hospitality to share what one had. Slipping out his book he starts to jot down the details provided by the locals.
"Can you describe these men?" Fergus asks with suspicion on his mind (Insight 21 on the story from Hyple and Will). It seems unlikely that the brigands would leave behind a valuable sword and this vague tale could easily be a cover for the local if they were behind the robbery.
Cainneach takes turns with Thatch scouting the road ahead on the way to Norham. Thus far, the travel has been relatively quiet, although the road is in bad shape. The two turn up little more than ruts to avoid and some especially large puddles. It's clear that some in the party may not be accustomed to journeying through such muck, but between Cainneach's escape through Ereworn and time in the forest, and Famh's upbringing in the moors of Thuland, at least the two of them aren't too put out by the conditions. Cainneach is amused by her ceaseless collecting, but admires it nonetheless. Old habits die hard and one never knows when Famh's preparation could save their lives.
Cainneach whispers back to Famh, "It couldn't hurt ... I'll play at whatever role you like. As I said, I'll do whatever's in my power to keep you from coming to harm, especially at the hands of those who don't respect or appreciate the fey. In the meantime, keep your head down, as you've been doing, and I'll keep a sharp eye out for any potential trouble."
Upon entering Norham, Cainneach will do just that, attempting to assess the situation for anything unusual or threatening. However, his experience in villages like these is limited, and his skills are of greater use in the wilds.
Perception 11
In the tavern, Cainneach is, as usual, somewhat overwhelmed by the number of people and the close quarters. He will rely on his trained powers of observation to take in his surroundings while listening to the exchange between Almeric, Hyple, and Will. Cainneach will wave away the meat and ale and look for something vegetarian. If he's unable to find anything, he'll eat rations from his pack. Cainneach notes Thatch slipping away from the group and smiles to himself, contemplating attempting the same, but knowing he'd likely be unable to match his friend's skill.
Passive WIS (Perception) 20
"I think you're right in that there is something missing from their story, whether they know it or not. And I agree that it's likely there's something more to the dell. That's the sort of good advice that Almeric will certainly find useful, although you may have better luck relaying it to Fergus at the moment. An odd fellow, but he's certainly attentive and diligent with his notebook," Cainneach responds to Famh.
Cainneach's own questions about the story, reinforced by Famh's, get him to thinking more about the conversation as well. He watches the two men carefully after the end of their tale, attempting to make out any further things they are saying (Cainneach can read lips via the Observant feat).
Insight 4
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Thatch-
" He's another one gone to Hobs Dell."
" If'n them thugs didnae get him then Ol' Jack would've."
" Not that I'm gonna miss a tax collector...thats the truth."
Fergus-
It seems to you that Hyple and Will, at least, seem to believe what they are saying and are relaying it as best they recall.
Will scrunches up his forehead, " They were wearing roughspun travellers hooded cloaks....but seemed armoured beneath it from the way they sat their horses. Bearded....men...dark hair..."
Cainneachs initial passes of the village reveal little and he is unable to make out much of what Will and Hyple are saying afterward due to both mens expansive facial hair and their habit of looking down as they spoke.
He does however overhear a few things among the crowd:
" He's another one gone to Hobs Dell."
" If'n them thugs didnae get him then Ol' Jack would've."
" Not that I'm gonna miss a tax collector...thats the truth."
" Who'd be such a fool to pass the iron fence?"
" The fence? Nay, Jack can range beyond it in the form of a great grizzled wolf....Old Rath saw him out of the mist right fore he passed."
"Well mates, this seems like an closed investigation indeed. You know maybe we could find some clues to what happened to the tax man if we saw his horse, where is the mare being kept. I assume with the details about the horse's state that you must have caught it. Perhaps our animal expert could take a look." Ori nods to Thatch, hoping his old stable hand days may come in handy. Leaning close to him he whispers "see if you get the same story and descriptions while your away from here." Sitting straight again he says louder, "So the tax man went which way again and which direction did our suspects come and go from?"
Fergus scribbles down the description of the two suspects, disgruntled at the vagueness and low probability of catching them. Thanking the cook, he puts away his book and joins Thatch and Ori off to the side, picking them up a fresh ale on route.
As he hands them the drinks he comments "Good questions Ori. Though I fear chasing down two horsemen on foot with at least a day's head start may be a lost cause. They could have all the coin spent while we chase around looking for dark bearded men. That said, if Mole's Jack picked them up we may be able to kill two birds with one stone."
Leaning on a nearby wall
"Think we should track down the sword? Finding the site of the robbery might provide us more clues on the thieves."
Thatch picks up on the conversation among the locals and circles around the room making small talk and taking advantage of their rustic hospitality to get some more information, asking each group a few questions. Persuasion: 14.
.“Hob’s Dell? What's that, is that nearby here?”
“Old Jack? Who is he?”
“Any other strange happenings around town lately?”
He finishes his circle near Ori and Fergus and nods at their suggestions. “Aye, I would be happy to look at the horse, maybe it has a tell or sign that Cainneach and I can use to track it and find out exactly where this happened. Can’t believe brigands would leave a sword behind. Must be more to the story.”
Will offers to show them to the stable where Haralds mare is being kept.
“There can be no doubt he strayed near Hob’s Dell. Either the two men overtook him and butchered him there, or he hid from them in the Dell and Gardener Jack got him. He’ll not be seen in this world again.”
The answers to questions come in dribs and drabs between various villagers with, your fairly sure, quite some embellishments along the way.
" Hob’s Dell is a hollow up in low hills north of Norham Wood."
" It is enclosed by a fence of sharp iron palings that Saint Ambrosius is said to have put up one Twelfth Night long ago, to keep the evil of the hollow forever trapped inside."
"That place is permanently shrouded in fog, so that beyond the black railings of the fence one can usually see only a blanket of whiteness. Even on the hottest days of summer the fog maintains its grip on the place—it rolls back from the fence, but is never gone entirely. On such days, the tangled ‘garden’ within the hollow lies revealed: a clammy, weed-choked place where wisps of sickly white mist move through the long grass like snakes."
" My grandfather caught sight of gardener Jack roaming the moors about the Dell in his youth, turned his hair white as snow it did!"
" Aye, me gran says he’s a wizened dwarf with a giant’s head grinning like a madman!"
" Nay, Old Tibbas Great Aunt said he's a ragged wolf-jawed serpent who'll snap you up soon as look at you."
" He's a great ogre of a thing rattling along the fence that he's bound within, decorated with the skulls of his victims"
" He wanders the hills in the guise of a man in white robes, and lures travellers into the mists of the Dell."
Cainneach takes in some of the random comments from the crowd, although a lot of it's a jumble and he struggles to focus. After a minute or so, he turns to Famh and whispers, "I'm not sure if you're picking up the same things as I, but it seems these people are truly afraid of this Jack, whatever he may be. It sounds like there's an iron fence bordering the dell, but that Jack can travel outside of the dell in the form of a dire wolf. Some old man named Rath saw it, but he's since passed on. Maybe Fergus and Almeric might find that useful, along with the information you've got." Cainneach gestures over to where Fergus is huddled with Ori and Thatch.
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Tana perks up notably when a horse is mentioned, leaning over toward Will with a curious gaze. She tampers down the interest in her voice when addressing him.
"Being able to see the mare would be of great use to us if she indeed knows of the Harald's journey." Her eyes meet Thatch's from across the way, her voice entering his mind as she does. 'If I could just get a moment with the mare, that could be all we need.'
Her gaze flickers away briefly as the voices of others pipe up with whisperings of Jack, inclining her head subtly in mild interest as a wolven form is brought up before returning her attention to the matter at hand – her sharpened gaze darting between Will and Thatch.
Noire Havensong | Harengon Archfey Warlock 6/Lore Bard 4 | Westmarch - Guild of the Phoenix (Discord)
Tanatari Crelieu | Kalashtar Druid 2 | Damian_May's Sleeping Gods
Jynx Starrkeep | Changling GOO Warlock 2 | Astien's Tyranny of Dragons
DM | Eberron Eternal (Discord)
Fergus glances at his fellow adventurers, surprised that the horse could be seen as such a valuable witness. What secrets could they discover from hoof and mane? Or perhaps clues from the literal horse's mouth? Curious to see them in action and hopeful that he could spot something from the saddle to help the investigation he asks
"We should delay no longer then, Will, please lead the way."
Will shrugs and leads Thatch, Tana and Fergus to the stable where a single palfrey stands looking at the visitors with interest.
Tana brightens at the sight of the horse, approaching with a cautious hand outstretched.
'Hello there, dear mare. We come upon hearing of your most recent journey.' Tucking a strand of white hair back with her free hand, Tana continues her advance with a soft smile – typically only reserved for creatures of such nature. Internally she hopes her silent advance does not strike Will, or even Fergus, as too strange.
'You are said to have returned alone, panicked, and with no rider in sight.' Her internal voice remains calm and careful, tempered down to something soft and soothing so as to appear more approachable to those not typically heard by the common folk or of more wild origins.
'Might you know of your rider's fate?'
Noire Havensong | Harengon Archfey Warlock 6/Lore Bard 4 | Westmarch - Guild of the Phoenix (Discord)
Tanatari Crelieu | Kalashtar Druid 2 | Damian_May's Sleeping Gods
Jynx Starrkeep | Changling GOO Warlock 2 | Astien's Tyranny of Dragons
DM | Eberron Eternal (Discord)
As Tana moves to calm the horse, hand outstretched, Thatch inspects the animal's tack and other gear, looking for any clue or sign the others may have missed. He also checks the animals shoes to determine if there is any unique marking or distinguishing feature that they could use to track the tax collector’s route in the muddy trail. “It looks like you have taken good care of her, that is a kindness.” Thatch remarks to Will.
Investigation: 1.
Perception: 17.
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Fergus leans against a nearby stall observing the two work. It was fascinating watching Tana connect with the horse wordlessly, her presence seemed to sooth the beast as a bond formed in front of his eyes. It was alien for him to see two beings connect without agenda. Sure, they were here to find information on the tax man but he had no doubt that Tana would be doing the same thing had they just met this horse for no reason. He dared not talk and even tried to hold his breath to not disturb them. As he feels waves of awe and jealousy sting his eyes with tears, he turns his attention to Thatch.
Not sure what Thatch could be looking for, Fergus can not help but admire the focus and determination as he turns over the gear. Inspired, he examines from a short distance away, taking all the bits in rather than focus on one. Like the jobs back in Clyster, sometimes you needed to take a step back to see the whole picture...
Investigation: 18
" Oh....you can speak? I don't think I've met a rider that can speak before."
" My rider? Um...we were here then on the easy walk, then there were two other mares...but I didn't know them...but when I smelled them rider kicked me and we went onto the rough walk and up into the hills, but then I stumbled....I don't usually run...and almost never on the rough walk....so my rider fell off near the metal trees and then he left me alone.
The two mares found me , and took the weight from my back and struck me really hard so I ran again....and then I came here.
My rider...I don't know? I could not see or smell him once he went into the mist.
Will looks pleased and seems to note Thatchs familiarity with the animal and tack.
- there are no distinguishing marks on the shoes he does not recognise the smiths mark so it is likely the horse was shod further east.
- the saddlebags are empty...one of the buckles is broken and the strap stretched so whoever opened it recently was none to gentle.
- The hoes is favouring one leg very slightly, but it seems minor and almost healed.
Will looks slightly nervous but you sense it is because of what has happened rather than any circumstances, if the taxes are truly missing and need to be replaced a lot of people will be suffering over winter and one of the first things they'll do is put off any smithing that needs to be done...so he's likely to be going hungry.