Lucky slept better then he has slept in weeks. Waking early as he usually does he goes down to the kitchen and eats what was left out. He will then proceed to use the tools in the kitchen to make camp rations for the party. (Hardtack)
He will hand them out before going down for breakfast.
Here ye all go? Should keep for a long time. Don't taste great though especially when I cook right Zanoth. (I think Lucky dies all the cooking for the two when on the road)
After the Mayor arrives.
Sounds like a great plan. This old grump ferlick or what ever, sounds like a real pain and might not be helpful if we go to the doffer later in the day
At Lucky's remark, Mayor Bercha just snorts, then heads over to the bar and talks with Eeneri in hushed tones. Mills examines the sketch of the amulet's pendant and does some hard thinking trying to jog his memory for any bits of old lore he may have encountered in lectures while training with the Order of the Wild as an initiate. Unfortunately nothing comes to mind. Drax takes a look at the sketch as well, because something about it tickles his memory, but other than some nagging thought that it's important, and familiar, he can't remember much.
After trudging through the muddy snow more than halfway across town to the south, the group comes to a halt in front Feorac's two story, red brick and dark stained wood residence. They didn't have to look far for the house's owner, because sitting on the covered porch of the place, rocking in a stout oaken rocking chair, and puffing heavily away on a tobacco pipe was a monstrously big man wearing the traditional sheep's wool and leather garments of an old family Highlander. Feorac's chest was as broad as Zanoth's if not slightly bigger, his blond hair was trimmed jaggedly and scattered in every direction about his head somewhat like the quills of a porcupine. His grey eyes glowered down, fearless, at everyone in the group, resting for a long stern moment on the company's dragon-scaled member. "You'll be the mayor's pets then I guess? Not sure what good it'll do you looking around the house. Like I already told Bercha, they didn't touch anything else. They knew what they wanted. They knew where it was, and they knew exactly how to get me out of the house to get it." Being tactical of mind Zanoth notes that Feorac is wearing well maintained ringmail, and has a wickedly hooked pike within easy reach. Of course combat should be absolutely unneeded, but Zanoth had been in plenty of situations where combat wasn't supposed to happen, and it still did. He kept his hand tight gripped on his own spear, just in case. Luckily Mills stepped up to smooth things over. Seems like these Order of the Wild Rangers were good at more than just stalking prey in the wildernesses.
"Pets? Don't you mean pests?" Mills winked at the old Highlander, and actually got a little smirk out of him. "Yeah, we won't take much of your time. Just want to make sure the Mayor and whoever else he had here didn't miss something obvious, which seems entirely likely." That time Feorac actually chuckled.
"You're right there! Well, come on in then. Light knows you can't do any harm just taking a look around." The strapping Highlander got up from his rocking chair and opened his front door waving everybody to come in. As they did he finally noticed Lucky amongst them and said, "If anything goes missing, little man, yours are going to be the first pockets I check. Got it?" Lucky smiled and nodded, laughing inside, knowing that whenever he pilfered something he almost immediately stuck it into Zanoth's pack anyway.
Once inside Feorac took the group upstairs to a small study. Inside were a wide, well constructed, cedar desk and chair set. The desktop had keepsakes and other baubles scattered about it. Two sets of bookshelves flanked it, and there was also one comfy chair with a small end table next to it, on top of which was a brass reading lamp. "Amulet was in that small desktop chest, there." Feorac said, pointing at a small wood and iron chest, resting near one corner of the desk. "Still can't figure why they bothered with unlocking the chest? Why not just take the whole thing and break it open later. Like I said though, whoever it was didn't touch anything else, far as I can tell. Came in, unlocked the chest, took the amulet, and then left the chest sitting open on the desk. Almost like they wanted me to know it was gone?" Feorac headed toward the door after giving his explanation. As he passed out the threshold of the study, he said, "You lot take your time. As you say, no counting what Bercha and his cronies may have missed. When you're done, I'll be downstairs on the porch, enjoying the morning, and another pipe of Rydwyrna's finest tobacco."
For tries to catch Feorac’s attention before he leaves “Sir if I may ask you a quick question…Was it widely known to the people of the town you had this bauble locked up in this very chest?”
Mills will examine the rest of the house, looking for heraldry etc to signify who Feorac's enemies might be, as well as anything interesting about the man himself. Lineage, or other battle won treasures of his family.
Being stopped by Goraqull and Zanoth's questions, Feorac rubs forefinger and thumb along the blonde stubble of his chin, buried in thought for a moment. "I'd say just about every permanent resident of Hyssop Ridge knew about my ancestor's amulet. It's been a symbolic heirloom of our clan throughout the generations. Honestly, I never even really considered it valuable in the regular sense. The stones on it aren't rare, and arcanists could only ever find moderate illusion magic clinging to it, which they though might just be a trick, so that it would radiate as magical, but not really be magical in nature. Apparently that's something charlatans will do to pass of mundane objects as magical. Interestingly enough, I had just opened the chest the day before it was stolen and saw it in there. Seems as I get older I grow a bit more nostalgic around holidays and feast days. Since Winter's Feast was upon us, I took the necklace out and held it in my hand for a bit, whilst I thought about the hard fought battles the Dagrest clan had to endure so I could find myself here as I am. As to opening the chest, far as I or anyone else that looked could tell, the person either had a key, or was an expert locksmith, because there were no signs that it was forced. That about answer all your questions?" Feorac lingers in the doorway for another moment, to make sure there are no more questions.
Mills' search of the rest of the house reveals that the tartan of Clan Dagrest is a criss-cross of hunter green and midnight blue. An old two-handed sword the clans refer to as a claymore was prominently hung on a wall, next to a steel-bossed wooden shield that had seen plenty of action, and a sash of the clan's tartan draped across them. Other than that, the house is rather austerely furnished with simple, rustic, yet well-crafted, wooden furnishings throughout. Mills does take special note of the fact that Feorac has both a Dire Wolf pelt rug and a White Bear pelt rug. Such animals are not easily killed, and speak to the toughness of either him or his forefathers. It appears that Dagrest clan is a smaller clan without much in the way of political clout, but they are proud, tough, and have continued to thrive in this harsh frontier for centuries.
In a bid to see if there is any lingering taint of evil on the chest, Zanoth uses his Divine Sense while examining it, but finds no trace of any lingering evil. Truly, the theft of Feorac's family heirloom is a mystery most strange.
Giving up on the lock Lucky will start to look around the house for any other clues. Quickly forgetting why he was looking around. He starts checking for valuables anything that would be worth comming back for. He has a good igress and egress plan figured out when he remembers why he is here.
Mills meets up with the others, with a frown on his face. "Nothing. A lasting Clan with no particular ambitions or power. It doesn't make a whole lot o' sense. Maybe that's why they told Lucky not to bother searching last night?"
“Aye Mills, don’t think there is much more we can gather from here, maybe the Graveyard has something of interest.
But first lets drop by the stores & temple. Given it looks like there are undead involved, we might be able to obtain wares to help us. Silvered weapons, Holy water, maybe if we are lucky even some better weapons or armour, although this small town’s provisions will be limited”.
Lucky gets right down on the floor and looks around from the lowest perspective. At first he doesn't see anything but some really worn and rough old hardwood floors. Then, something catches his eyes. Everywhere that Drax has walked, he's left tiny little scratches from the claws on his feet. That's not particularly interesting, except for the fact that Lucky sees very similar claw marks on parts of the floor where he knows Drax hasn't walked!
Drax stop moving. Your scaring up the floor. That's just rude man. You left little marks everywhere. Wait a second.... you haven't been over here yet right.
Lucky gestures an area away from Drax.
Guys I think I got something. Either Mr Grumpy has a pet with claws or someone with similar feet to our lizard friend has been in this house recently.
If Lucky can, he will stay down on all fours and follow the marks like a blood hound on a scent.
Gor raises an eye brow and think to himself that maybe there’s more to the halfling than meets the eye. “Drax do as Lucky says….please….don’t move a moment. Lucky do the marks lead anywhere suspicious in the house?”
Taking a good look at the overall movement of the extremely small, but still discernible, now that Lucky had pointed them out, claw marks in Feorac's rustic wooden floors, Gor, whose time in the wild has given him some good experience with understanding tracks and movements, realizes a few things. First, the perpetrators were dragonborn, kobolds, or lizardfolk. The claw marks of the three are similar enough that there's no way to know for sure. Second, there was definitely more than one of them. Three, they came in, went directly to Feorac's study, more than one of them stood outside the door looking down the stairs as lookouts, and then they all exited the exact same way they had come in.
Mills nods. "Time to check with the locals to see if they know of any tribes of reptilian types in the region... Unless we happen to have one closer at hand." Mills gives a pointed look and a raised eyebrow to Drax.
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Paladin - warforged - orange
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Lucky slept better then he has slept in weeks. Waking early as he usually does he goes down to the kitchen and eats what was left out. He will then proceed to use the tools in the kitchen to make camp rations for the party. (Hardtack)
He will hand them out before going down for breakfast.
Here ye all go? Should keep for a long time. Don't taste great though especially when I cook right Zanoth. (I think Lucky dies all the cooking for the two when on the road)
After the Mayor arrives.
Sounds like a great plan. This old grump ferlick or what ever, sounds like a real pain and might not be helpful if we go to the doffer later in the day
At Lucky's remark, Mayor Bercha just snorts, then heads over to the bar and talks with Eeneri in hushed tones. Mills examines the sketch of the amulet's pendant and does some hard thinking trying to jog his memory for any bits of old lore he may have encountered in lectures while training with the Order of the Wild as an initiate. Unfortunately nothing comes to mind. Drax takes a look at the sketch as well, because something about it tickles his memory, but other than some nagging thought that it's important, and familiar, he can't remember much.
After trudging through the muddy snow more than halfway across town to the south, the group comes to a halt in front Feorac's two story, red brick and dark stained wood residence. They didn't have to look far for the house's owner, because sitting on the covered porch of the place, rocking in a stout oaken rocking chair, and puffing heavily away on a tobacco pipe was a monstrously big man wearing the traditional sheep's wool and leather garments of an old family Highlander. Feorac's chest was as broad as Zanoth's if not slightly bigger, his blond hair was trimmed jaggedly and scattered in every direction about his head somewhat like the quills of a porcupine. His grey eyes glowered down, fearless, at everyone in the group, resting for a long stern moment on the company's dragon-scaled member. "You'll be the mayor's pets then I guess? Not sure what good it'll do you looking around the house. Like I already told Bercha, they didn't touch anything else. They knew what they wanted. They knew where it was, and they knew exactly how to get me out of the house to get it." Being tactical of mind Zanoth notes that Feorac is wearing well maintained ringmail, and has a wickedly hooked pike within easy reach. Of course combat should be absolutely unneeded, but Zanoth had been in plenty of situations where combat wasn't supposed to happen, and it still did. He kept his hand tight gripped on his own spear, just in case. Luckily Mills stepped up to smooth things over. Seems like these Order of the Wild Rangers were good at more than just stalking prey in the wildernesses.
"Pets? Don't you mean pests?" Mills winked at the old Highlander, and actually got a little smirk out of him. "Yeah, we won't take much of your time. Just want to make sure the Mayor and whoever else he had here didn't miss something obvious, which seems entirely likely." That time Feorac actually chuckled.
"You're right there! Well, come on in then. Light knows you can't do any harm just taking a look around." The strapping Highlander got up from his rocking chair and opened his front door waving everybody to come in. As they did he finally noticed Lucky amongst them and said, "If anything goes missing, little man, yours are going to be the first pockets I check. Got it?" Lucky smiled and nodded, laughing inside, knowing that whenever he pilfered something he almost immediately stuck it into Zanoth's pack anyway.
Once inside Feorac took the group upstairs to a small study. Inside were a wide, well constructed, cedar desk and chair set. The desktop had keepsakes and other baubles scattered about it. Two sets of bookshelves flanked it, and there was also one comfy chair with a small end table next to it, on top of which was a brass reading lamp. "Amulet was in that small desktop chest, there." Feorac said, pointing at a small wood and iron chest, resting near one corner of the desk. "Still can't figure why they bothered with unlocking the chest? Why not just take the whole thing and break it open later. Like I said though, whoever it was didn't touch anything else, far as I can tell. Came in, unlocked the chest, took the amulet, and then left the chest sitting open on the desk. Almost like they wanted me to know it was gone?" Feorac headed toward the door after giving his explanation. As he passed out the threshold of the study, he said, "You lot take your time. As you say, no counting what Bercha and his cronies may have missed. When you're done, I'll be downstairs on the porch, enjoying the morning, and another pipe of Rydwyrna's finest tobacco."
For tries to catch Feorac’s attention before he leaves “Sir if I may ask you a quick question…Was it widely known to the people of the town you had this bauble locked up in this very chest?”
While they are questioning Feorac, Lucky will inspect the box, checking the lock to see if it was forced picked or magically opened.
Lock investigation: 15
Mills will examine the rest of the house, looking for heraldry etc to signify who Feorac's enemies might be, as well as anything interesting about the man himself. Lineage, or other battle won treasures of his family.
Paladin - warforged - orange
<Zanoth will use aDivine Sense near the chest to see if anything shows up.>
Being stopped by Goraqull and Zanoth's questions, Feorac rubs forefinger and thumb along the blonde stubble of his chin, buried in thought for a moment. "I'd say just about every permanent resident of Hyssop Ridge knew about my ancestor's amulet. It's been a symbolic heirloom of our clan throughout the generations. Honestly, I never even really considered it valuable in the regular sense. The stones on it aren't rare, and arcanists could only ever find moderate illusion magic clinging to it, which they though might just be a trick, so that it would radiate as magical, but not really be magical in nature. Apparently that's something charlatans will do to pass of mundane objects as magical. Interestingly enough, I had just opened the chest the day before it was stolen and saw it in there. Seems as I get older I grow a bit more nostalgic around holidays and feast days. Since Winter's Feast was upon us, I took the necklace out and held it in my hand for a bit, whilst I thought about the hard fought battles the Dagrest clan had to endure so I could find myself here as I am. As to opening the chest, far as I or anyone else that looked could tell, the person either had a key, or was an expert locksmith, because there were no signs that it was forced. That about answer all your questions?" Feorac lingers in the doorway for another moment, to make sure there are no more questions.
Mills' search of the rest of the house reveals that the tartan of Clan Dagrest is a criss-cross of hunter green and midnight blue. An old two-handed sword the clans refer to as a claymore was prominently hung on a wall, next to a steel-bossed wooden shield that had seen plenty of action, and a sash of the clan's tartan draped across them. Other than that, the house is rather austerely furnished with simple, rustic, yet well-crafted, wooden furnishings throughout. Mills does take special note of the fact that Feorac has both a Dire Wolf pelt rug and a White Bear pelt rug. Such animals are not easily killed, and speak to the toughness of either him or his forefathers. It appears that Dagrest clan is a smaller clan without much in the way of political clout, but they are proud, tough, and have continued to thrive in this harsh frontier for centuries.
In a bid to see if there is any lingering taint of evil on the chest, Zanoth uses his Divine Sense while examining it, but finds no trace of any lingering evil. Truly, the theft of Feorac's family heirloom is a mystery most strange.
Giving up on the lock Lucky will start to look around the house for any other clues. Quickly forgetting why he was looking around. He starts checking for valuables anything that would be worth comming back for. He has a good igress and egress plan figured out when he remembers why he is here.
Lucky will get on the floor and look around.
Perception 16
Mills meets up with the others, with a frown on his face. "Nothing. A lasting Clan with no particular ambitions or power. It doesn't make a whole lot o' sense. Maybe that's why they told Lucky not to bother searching last night?"
Paladin - warforged - orange
Lucky gets right down on the floor and looks around from the lowest perspective. At first he doesn't see anything but some really worn and rough old hardwood floors. Then, something catches his eyes. Everywhere that Drax has walked, he's left tiny little scratches from the claws on his feet. That's not particularly interesting, except for the fact that Lucky sees very similar claw marks on parts of the floor where he knows Drax hasn't walked!
Drax stop moving. Your scaring up the floor. That's just rude man. You left little marks everywhere. Wait a second.... you haven't been over here yet right.
Lucky gestures an area away from Drax.
Guys I think I got something. Either Mr Grumpy has a pet with claws or someone with similar feet to our lizard friend has been in this house recently.
If Lucky can, he will stay down on all fours and follow the marks like a blood hound on a scent.
Gor raises an eye brow and think to himself that maybe there’s more to the halfling than meets the eye. “Drax do as Lucky says….please….don’t move a moment. Lucky do the marks lead anywhere suspicious in the house?”
Mills will take a bit to examine what Lucky is trailing, before moving up behind him to try to keep an eye on the wider picture, as needed.
Paladin - warforged - orange
Anybody who wants to try and get a better picture of the claw marks and their meanings will need to roll an Investigation check.
After a few minutes of going in circles.
"Guys I can't tell the difference between marks. Anyone else want to take a crack?"
Gor bends over to look at the floor. He does not get down onto the floor as that would be beneath his standard. (Investigation 22 in game log)
Taking a good look at the overall movement of the extremely small, but still discernible, now that Lucky had pointed them out, claw marks in Feorac's rustic wooden floors, Gor, whose time in the wild has given him some good experience with understanding tracks and movements, realizes a few things. First, the perpetrators were dragonborn, kobolds, or lizardfolk. The claw marks of the three are similar enough that there's no way to know for sure. Second, there was definitely more than one of them. Three, they came in, went directly to Feorac's study, more than one of them stood outside the door looking down the stairs as lookouts, and then they all exited the exact same way they had come in.
Any sign of a direction of travel?
Mills nods. "Time to check with the locals to see if they know of any tribes of reptilian types in the region... Unless we happen to have one closer at hand." Mills gives a pointed look and a raised eyebrow to Drax.
Paladin - warforged - orange