Crannoc thinks a moment, then, grabbing a free drinks from Isaac, approaches, handing one to Gawain, then turning to the hunters with a friendly smile.

"I think my friend refers mainly to human banditry in the area," (It does not occur to Crannoc that the word 'human' is not really necessary preceding 'banditry'), "though he can of course elaborate better than I.  Have you seen any evidence of it?  Even if not, perhaps we can exchange tales of our travels.  I am Crannoc Greenthorn, dedicated to Silvanus, who broods over the wilderness.  Our bard here can weave a tragic but true tale of ill-fated love between a bandit captain and an undead vampiric creature.  Or a wondrous but true tale of Sister Springs, and the ancient gold dragon within."

Crannoc continues to watch the hunters' faces for a reaction, as much out of genuine curiosity as much as suspicion.

Gallant looks slightly puzzled at Crannoc response and words, but knowing this misty elf long enough he will pull up a chair and his lute acting as so he is prepared to hear which ever tale that choose. But the moment he gets close he is analyzing each face to see which one of these bandits are really calling the shots.

insight 16

As Crannoc watches, there's a flicker of curiosity in their eyes - and again annoyance - at the mention of the gold dragon. Haiden, the apparent face of this group, makes a show of raising his brows to look impressed. "Ho ho! A gold dragon? I'm afraid we wouldn't have anything that could match that."

"Now this tale of a bandit and and undead creature...Lovers? That sounds interesting." 

He gestures towards his companions again. "We are hunters of exotic creatures, and all of the Sword Coast is our hunting ground. We may have a few stories to trade that could match this vampire of yours."

As Gallant watches them closely, they don't really seem like bandits to him...And this Haiden character definitely seems like their leader.

"We haven't had trouble with bandits since making it this far south, and the roads in the Greenfields have been peaceful." To Crannoc, there's truth to be found in his words. But something is still off, like some critical detail has been left out.

Crannoc remembers the trail of walkers off the main path that he had seen.  The roads in the Greenfields have been peaceful he says...  is there something deeper going on here?  Perhaps it is obvious to everyone other than me.  Nevertheless, he plows ahead.

Crannoc's voice remains enthusiastic and earnest.  "It is true that I am new to city-dweller ways, but this hardly seems a fair exchange of tales, at least not yet, unless you tell us more of these exotic creatures.  I would very much enjoy hearing about them.  The tales we would tell you of a dragon and a vampiric undead creature and her bandit captain consort are true ones, and quite recent.  I never expected to see the like."

He pauses, considering   "In truth, we too have had little trouble with bandits themselves.  A few, we slew to nourish the soil to which all Silvanus' creatures return.  And others we captured to fight for us now.  Did you do the same with bandits you encountered?  And the roads may have been peaceful, but the true beauty of the Greenfields, or anywhere else, is well away from the roads, deep in Silvanus' domain.  Have you found it to be so?  We saw tracks of many staying well off the path on our way in.  Was that you?  Where are all the rest of you?"

Unsure whether it's the drink—Hildr has had a few too many too quickly—or the fatigue of the past few days' miraculous (gold dragon) and terrifying (vampiric creature) experiences, the warrior woman can feel some of her life force draining. [Removal of temp bonus to Hildr's HP max]

Again, you can see annoyance flicker in the man's eyes, as if the questions you're asking are too close to whatever they aren't saying. 

"That's all fair. Just last year we hunted down a dirlagraun that had wandered from the High Forest, stalking the lands around Silverymoon. That beast was...Tricky to ensnare, but an excellently placed arrow from Sara here was more than enough to put it down."

"More recently we dared the Forest of Wyrms." He pauses for a moment and laughs, shaking his head. "That was a stupid folly I'll admit, we thought we might capture ourselves a wyvern. Alas, all we have to show for our efforts is this." He says, retrieving a modestly sized green-tinted scale from a pouch and putting it on the table. 

"Ah well we didn't encounter any bandits." Haiden's tone sharpens almost imperceptibly to Crannoc, and his answers seem shorter. " 'Fraid it's just in our little group."

"If there's some kind of traveling circus in the woods, it ain't us." He adds with a short, somewhat forced laugh. "We haven't gone off into the unknown around here yet, but we intend to. Never know what you might find out there in the wilds."

"I'm an exotic creature," declares Hildr as she spins across the room, arms outstretched in anticipation of Julie Andrews by many millennia. When she nears the table where the hunters are sitting, Hildr stops, teeters, manages to unsheathe her viking sword, and plants it upright in the center of the table, where it quivers like a single-tined tuning fork. "But seriously," she says, plopping down on a stool amid the hunters, "we are lodestones to exotic creatures. If it is exotic creatures you want, then hunt—er, I mean, follow—us!" Hildr squares off with the two halflings, squinting until the two halflings become one. "Do you know what exotic creatures no one in this simulation ever mentions?" She doesn't wait for Sara to answer. "Unicorns, that's what. And do you know why?" The Illuskan belches before continuing, "Because in this simulation, unicorns do not exist." Her forehead meets the table. Snoring, Hildr sleeps.

Crannoc's eyes narrow in... not quite hostility, but puzzlement.  He holds nothing against those who hunt for food, or to rid the wilderness of destructive beasts that are wreaking havoc.  It is all part of Silvanus' cycle of nature, red in tooth and claw.

But Haiden's words, even taken at face value, seem to go beyond that.

"You 'put it down', this dirlagraun of the High Forest... was it wreaking havoc on the area?  Do you seek to slay these exotic beasts you hunt?  To win trophies, perhaps..."  He glances at the green-tinted scale.  "Not for sustenance, nor to eliminate a grave threat?  What nature of exotic beast shed the scale, a wyvern?"  The Forest of Wyrms is a place he has considered visiting, but had never been.  Southeast of his own woodland home in the Misty Forest (and north now).  The High Forest, Crannoc has been to once as a child, north even of the Misty Forest.  A place of wonder.  Truly Silvanus' domain.

Preoccupied by these thoughts, Crannoc is blindsided by Hildr's dramatic entry into the conversation, and his mouth hangs agape.  Unicorns?  Simulation?  Is this what I am like when I drink too much city-ale and my head pounds the next day?

Gawain goes wide-eyed as Hildr drunkenly interrupts the conversation. "Ah ha..." He laughs sheepishly after her performance is done, quickly removing her sword from the table while stealing a glance towards the inn-keepers. He made a mental note to leave them coin to replace the table. "We've had a long few days, I think my friend here decided to alleviate some of that stress...This early in the day."

"Yes you are." The man affirms, raising his brow and laughing at Hildr's declaration.  The other two grin, moving their drinks out of the way as the shieldmaiden crashes down onto the table. Haiden waves away Gawain's explanation. "We've all been there." He says, still chuckling.

"As for the dirlagraun, in this particular case yes. It was making itself a menace. But I won't lie to you, most of the time we hunt for the thrill of it." Towards the second question, he tosses the scale to Crannoc. "A wyvern, knocked it off while trying to kill it. Thing got away though." There's less confidence in his words here - still paying attention to their mannerisms, Crannoc would easily pick up on the lie being told.

"Now. What was this about a vampire, where in the nine hells did you find one of those?"

It takes Crannoc a few more moments to shake off his surprise at Hildr's meteoric entrance and realize that no harm seems to have been done.  He takes a moment to murmur for Silvanus' Guidance (not trying to hide his spellcasting) as he examines the alleged wyvern scale.

Crannoc's Nature plus Guidance:  12 + 3 = 15 (trying to determine if it legitimately seems to be a wyvern scale, and if so, from an adult?)

After a time, he turns back to Haiden.  Crannoc's voice is flat - not hostile, but sounding as if he is discovering an unpleasant truth.  "Hunters for the thrill of it.  Many predators, especially those of warm blood like us, also feel the thrill of the hunt, though few do it for thrill alone.  I have told you the truth about the vampiric horror you ask about, not a true vampire, consort to the bandit captain we slew.  We sought him, not her, unwittingly arousing her wrath upon his death.  I feel uncompelled to tell you more.  You say you will not lie to us, yet you just have.  About your intentions with the wyvern, for certain."

Crannoc stares at Haiden for a long moment, motionless like a hunting animal himself.  Again, not overtly hostile.  Just waiting.  If no response comes, he looks around to his companions, well those who are still awake anyway, to determine whether any of them wish to pursue the conversation further.  In his mind, he thinks:  perhaps we should inform pack leaders Nighthill and Escobert that there are strange hunters who lie about their intentions.  And about the tracks off the path in the surrounding countryside.  I am not sure, but I think in cities, they have names for people who behave like Haiden...

(Try as he might, Crannoc is unable to come up with words such as 'agent' or 'spy' in his head, not being familiar enough with such concepts).

"Liars, did you say?" Hildr's head bobs up. She slurs her words. "Crannoc, are you having trouble with this lot?" Hildr looks puzzled as she scans the surrounding faces for the nature cleric, her sight blurred by double vision. "If so, er...my..." Her head drops back down on the table, but she is no longer snoring.

Crannoc can't identify the creature the scale is from, but he's confident it's almost certainly not off a wyvern.

The man looks taken aback by the sudden swing in conversation, his eyes narrowing at the half-elf. Finally, he merely shrugs. "If that's how you feel, leave us in peace then. You came to disturb us remember." He shoos with his hand, "Away then."

Gallant takes the offer to leave, finding this interaction to be wavering and the tales lacking depth. "Come let us leave this montely brood alone for the day. Maybe we should talk strategy in our room where it is quiet."

Crannoc nods, taking no particular offense at the dismissal, and stands up.

"We came to you to ask if you had heard of bandits in the area and to exchange tales with you in good faith.  Sometimes tales stretch the truth, but I did not expect you to lie to us.  And leave out key truths at other times  That is interesting.  We told you no lies.  I wonder why you are lying to us."

He tosses back the 'wyvern scale' as he speaks to emphasize his point about the obvious lies, then casts Guidance on the face-down Hildr and uses his Mage Hand and his own hands to try to get her roused and moving again.

Once out of earshot of the 'hunters,' Crannoc asks his companions:  "Should we let pack leaders Nighthill and Escobert know that there are interlopers purposefully lying about their intentions here?  Whether or not they have anything to do with the group traveling off the road outside the city?  Or is this something too minor or uncertain to bother pack leaders with until we know more?"

He is genuinely not sure what to do with the rest of the day, though if it is a day off, he would gladly spend it out side the town walls.

Gawain picks himself up from the seat, moving to help Hildr walk straight if it seems like she might fall over upon standing up. "Let's get you goin' buddy."

He follows the others, listening to Crannoc and nodding along. "They seemed friendly enough..." He says, turning to look back at the trio of hunters. "But I trust your judgement, if you think they were lying about something, that's definitely suspicious."

"We might keep an eye on them. If they've slipped out of town by the day's end, we go talk to the governor."

"For the rest of the day I suppose...Do as we please and meet back here by evening?"

"You know we haven't properly explored the town yet. Think I'll go take a look around, might try "enjoying it" as Nighthill suggested." Gawain says, slowly backing his way towards the tavern door. "Unless any of you are tagging along, I'll see you back here around sunset."

Gawain will be spend his day slowly making his way through the town, sometimes stopping to just to take it all in and enjoy the peace. If it looks like there's a shop of some sort: blacksmith, leatherworker, trinket shop, or anything of the sort he'll stop in and browse.

He squashes the part of him that wants to pester the townsfolk for information, instead opting for small talk if the opportunity ever arises. 

When the sun starts to hang low in the sky, he moseys his way back to the Dragon's Roost to meet back up with the others. 

Gallant will leave soon after Gawain, but preferring to do his own thing he will go the opposite direction. Gallant will try to find the highest place in town and climb to the top. There he will sit calmly feeling the wind blow through his hair and begin singing and talking to the wind, hoping it will catch on its currents a message to his mother.

Once the day comes to and end he will mosey back to the tavern relaxed but ready for a party.

Feeling he needs to get out of the "big city" once more, Crannoc finds himself walking towards the gates of Greenest.  The same one he and his companions had entered by earlier in the day.  On the way, he stops at any available shop or stand to buy roughly 1gp worth of fruits, nuts and small morsels of fresh meat before making his way outside the walls.  Relaxing as the trappings of of the town fall away and he returns to Silvanus' domain.

Eschewing roads, Crannoc ambles quietly through the wilderness, roughly towards the area that he had spotted the tracks, keeping an eye out for local fauna.  And cautiously for whoever caused those tracks of course.  Arriving at a suitable spot, he kneels and begins to ritually cast Speak with Animals.  Once done, he begins befriending any nearby birds or mobile mammals and conversing with them.  He shares food from his purchases, as befits the nature of any beast he is addressing.  He obeys the proper respects for each, speaking quickly if to a squirrel or sparrow, but more languidly to a feline or gruffly to an ursine.  As needed, he repeats the ritual and hands out more snacks as recompense, spending as much as a few hours at it.

After pleasantries, his questions are the same.  Have any of the animals seen, heard or scented several humanoids traveling off the usual humanoid paths recently.  Perhaps appearing to be avoiding notice from other humanoids as beasts might.  If so how many, and how long have they been close by?  And were they wearing shiny coats or carrying large shiny claws, or curved wood with sinew to shoot straight sticks with shiny, sharp tips?

Once done (or at least before nightfall regardless), Crannoc wistfully returns to Greenest, to the Dragon's Roost to report his findings to his companions.

"I'll come with!" Iris says, hurrying out the door to follow Gawain into town. 

As she's been for the entire time of her employment with the Silver Veil, she's quiet for most of the excursion. When they pass a blacksmith, she briefly disappears inside to purchase a dagger to replace the one she dropped in the tower. 

Something about the serenity of the town finally gets to her, evoking a feeling of homesickness that she's been able to stave off for a long time. Suddenly, she speaks up to her companion, asking about his own home. (I figured we could do this convo in DM to avoid making the others wait).

When they finally return to the Dragon's Roost, she is among the first (perhaps not faster than Hildr), to get a mug of ale from the innkeeper. Holding it in both hands, she sits back and listens quietly as the others discuss their day or plans going forward.