((assuming all that is desired to be purchased has been))

As the caravan starts to roll away, the weaver's face contorts into a scowl of frustration and disappointment. She clenches her fists tightly around the scarves and robes, and her eyes narrow with resentment. With a loud, bitter voice, she shouts after the departing caravan, "You'll regret this! You think you're better than us? Well, you'll see! Those scarves could have kept you warm on your journey, but now you'll freeze in the cold nights! And those robes could have healed your wounds, but now you'll suffer without them!"

Her words carry a venomous tone, filled with anger and resentment towards the travelers. Her eyes dart towards Lady Othmor's wagon, and she sneers, "You with the noble crest, thinking you can just pass by and ignore us! You'll get what's coming to you!" Her vindictive tirade continues as she vents her frustration at being ignored and her envy towards those she perceives as more privileged.

It is not long before they come upon another cluster of small houses. There is more activity around one with a welcome wrap-around porch. On the porch are set several tables with rustic tea sets on them, although most of the people are crowded around a young woman radiating a youthful and vibrant energy that captivates those around her. Her bright blue eyes sparkle with curiosity and playfulness, and her smile is contagious, instantly putting guests at ease. Her golden-blonde hair cascades in loose waves down to her shoulders, framing her face like a golden halo.

She wears a flowing, sea-blue dress adorned with delicate lace trimmings, reminiscent of the calming ocean waves. The dress accentuates her figure, and its light fabric allows her to move gracefully as she mingles with guests. Around her wrist, the host wears a simple silver bracelet and a necklace of seashells and rough pearls adorns her neck. On her feet, she wears comfortable yet elegant flats, allowing her to move effortlessly between the tables and the porch, where she entertains guests with soothing melodies on a small handcrafted harp.

(oops- sorry i had typed that eldon would buy a traveling robe, along with the herbs, but i think i got distracted and didnt post it.   he buys the robe appropriate for the climate)

eldon strides over as the caravan is passing, smiles and listens to the music.  “What is this place?” he asks one of the patrons.

Quote from Tesservett >>

(oops- sorry i had typed that eldon would buy a traveling robe, along with the herbs, but i think i got distracted and didnt post it.   he buys the robe appropriate for the climate)

 subtracted the 8 gold and added to inventory

Provided the old woman still felt the need to curse them even with Eldon offering to take at least some wares off her hands, Narrakas growls and started to turn to go after the elder woman, but stops short to side-eyed Lady Othmor's wagon with a hopeful look. But with all too likely no go ahead to exact punishment for the threat, he'd turn away grumbling and cursing unde-rbreath, but otherwise quickly catching back up to the caravan to keep pace once more.

"Heh! Tenderhand knows how to move at least. Though pales in comparison to honey tongued one." He mused aloud and gesture to the danger as the party continued along their path. At least... so he hoped would be the case. But then he shots Lord Foppington a suspicious look, leery of yet another distraction being eminent.

((... and we're back...))

In response to Eldon's inquiry, a patron turns and says, "Just our community's little secret, best teas and medicinals around, with charming service." This last is said as the patron looks back at the hostess, playfully laughing and singing to her guests.

Narrakas "hmphs", his eyes, and then shook his head with a mildly amused smile on his face. And assuming he had not needed to step up to redirect the other party members towards focusing on their 'job' a second time, he'd just as happily carry on past the merry group without further word of comment or concern. A small shrug of the shoulders would have the "greatclub" of his sitting more comfortably against the shoulder, and easier to bring to bear if the proverbial other shoe drops before they escape the strangely friendly village so close to the deadly swamps. Though a random thought at some point does have him calling back at some point to the carriage driver. "Oi. What do you did with stinky dead other day?"

The driver turns his head toward Narrakas, then silently bows it toward the middle cart. There one can see the body has been tightly bundled in linens and sack cloth, bound with twine. This is presumably to contain the scent of decay. Nevertheless, flies circle in lazy ellipses about the corpse.

A little way off can be heard some other children singing to a familiar tune:

In the water, deep and blue, 
A little octopus, with tentacles so true, 
With eyes so bright, a playful friend, 
But beware, oh, beware, how the story will bend.

Octo, Octo, with arms so fleet, 
In the water, he'll lead you, oh, so sweet, 
To underwater wonders, a magical sight, 
But stay close, dear children, in the light.

He'll beckon you, with a gentle sway, 
To dive and swim, and come and play, 
But in his world, you must take care, 
For the ocean's secrets, he'll lovingly share.

Octo, Octo, with arms so fleet, 
In the water, he'll lead you, oh, so sweet,
To underwater wonders, a magical sight, 
But stay close, dear children, in the light.

So listen well, my little friend, 
Hold a grown-up's hand, don't pretend, 
The ocean's beauty, a joy to see, 
But safety first, so you can be free.

Octo, Octo, with arms so fleet, 
In the water, he'll lead you, oh, so sweet, 
To underwater wonders, a magical sight, 
But stay close, dear children, in the light.

So splash and play, with laughter gleam, 
But remember, my dears, it's not just a dream, 
Octo is fun, but be cautious and wise, 
And cherish the magic, with opened eyes.

Those by the tea house will note that even the hostess has stopped playing, and all the patrons listen in sad silence to the children's song.

((The caravan will roll on shortly, leaving the tea house/apothecary behind  . . .))

Fop will remain with the caravan as is moves on.

Ready to join back up with the caravan. 

As the caravan presses on, the view transitions from the Tea Shoppe and Apothecary to the groupings of small, weather-worn dwellings, their structures reflecting the struggles of their inhabitants. The surroundings take on an air of desolation, as evidenced by several abandoned houses that now stand as mere echoes of past lives.

Amid this backdrop, the caravan eventually reaches a cluster of these modest homes, their worn facades forming a bleak scene. However, within this melancholic tableau, one building stands apart. Its distinctiveness arises not from its grandeur, but rather from its functional purpose. The structure, a blacksmith's shop, draws the eyes of the adventurers, its presence both commanding and unnerving.

Yet, as the caravan passes by, a sense of eeriness envelops the scene. Despite the shop's role as a forge, the once-familiar clang of metal striking metal is absent, replaced by an unsettling silence. The forge's fire, once a beacon of industry, now lies dormant and cold, its embers extinguished. This stark contrast between the shop's expected activity and its current state is a poignant reminder of the changes that have befallen the settlement and the uncertainty that hangs in the air.

As the party draws closer to the blacksmith's shop, their footsteps accompanied by the subdued sounds of the caravan, a haunting wail drifts through the air, originating from one of the nearby houses. The mournful cry echoes with a mix of sorrow and desperation, carrying the weight of a mother's heartbreak.

"Oh, my sweet Lila! Why have you gone?"

The cries of the mother are punctuated by sobs, her voice quivering with anguish as she shares her grief with the world. It's a heartrending scene that grips the adventurers' emotions, urging them to listen further.

Another, child's voice replies "We were playing with the other children near where Caco lives. Lila went down, chasing laughter, and now... now they're nowhere to be found!"

Her voice cracks as she utters these words, and the agony in her voice is unmistakable. The words paint a picture of innocence lost, of a child who had ventured into the realm of play only to be ensnared by an inexplicable absence. The mother's grief is palpable, and the urgency of her plea hangs heavily in the air, a call for help that resonates deep within the hearts of the party members.

Lady Othmor hears the mother's lament, her gaze thoughtful as she absorbs the weight of the despair around her. She scans the surroundings, almost as if seeing the plight of the people for the first time. With a determined look, she calls for the caravan to halt and steps down from her wagon, striding toward the house from which the anguished cries emanated. The door closes behind her, and moments later, she emerges, her face carrying a mixture of concern and purpose.

Turning her attention to the adventurers, she speaks with a voice that conveys both urgency and resolve. "We cannot turn a blind eye to this suffering. Something lurks in these swamps, something that preys upon innocent children, causing them to vanish without a trace. Some call it a scorpion, others an octopus. It matters little, for its malevolent intent remains the same."

Her eyes fix on the group, and she continues, "We have the power to bring an end to this menace, to ensure that no more lives are shattered by its grasp. Will you stand with these villagers? Will you take on this perilous task, not just for their sake, but for the safety of all who pass through these lands?"

"Slay this beast, if you can. Bring back evidence of its demise, something to reassure these people that the threat is vanquished."

Her gaze is imploring, her words sincere, as if the weight of the lives lost weighs heavily on her. "Will you do this? Will you face the darkness that has gripped this village and strike it down, for the sake of their children and the future?"

Eldon looks to the group “I am certain we will help, if we can.   Let’s see what can be done.”. 

Narrakas had as usual tuned out the singing as he much of everything else not obviously rushing for the caravan with hostile intent. But whereas a song had been easy to dismiss from mind or cover up by imaginining one of his own design, the wails of a mother was far less so easy to overcome with will power alone. Not after having been a 'touch' unnerved by the blacksmith's shop some moments before, and visibly so, if the somewhat wide-eyed look and glancing back from the goblin had been any indicator. But with low growl, clenched teeth, and a shake of his head, Narrakas tried to dismiss the unnerving words, only to be but at the call from Lady Othmor.

Agitated and confused, the goblin couldn't help shooting a halfhearted glare as she went off to one of the houses and disappeared from view. "W-wait!" He'd call out, recognizing his mistake in leaving his employer to her own devices out of sight. Fortunately prior to hm mustering up the resolve to take his great club and rush the door, she steps out, startling him midstep, and all but stupifying the goblin with talks of blind eyes and scorpions.

By the time she's done, he'd glance back to the others (well, anyone he could see from his position anyhow) to see if any understood. "Wait? We? Really?" He asks annoyed of Eldon, before turning back to Lady Othmor. "Narrakas... will... supposes he helps... For a bit more coin, since this ask is beyond just watching over caravan."

Lady Othmor's lips curve slightly, a subtle indication of approval at Narrakas' negotiation. She nods, acknowledging his request for additional compensation. "Very well, Narrakas," she replies in her composed manner. "Your skills and services are indeed beyond the usual duties of safeguarding a caravan. You shall have your extra coin as a sign of our agreement."

Her gaze doesn't waver as she continues, her tone steady and purposeful. "And as for your further involvement, I propose that you return anything of value you find in the creature's lair directly to me. This would be a testament to the success of your mission, and in return, I assure you that such items will be fairly appraised and their value added to your reward."

There's a subtle emphasis in her words, suggesting the potential for even greater returns through this partnership. "Consider it a way to ensure that your efforts are duly recognized," she adds. "And should you find this arrangement to your liking, we can certainly discuss future collaborations."

With a gesture of her hand, Lady Othmor points toward a vague trail leading to the south. "The creature's lair lies down that path," she states, her voice carrying a subtle edge of gravity. "It's not much of a path, really, more like a passage worn by the feet of children who ventured too far. Follow it cautiously. It dips and winds amidst the marsh growth, often disappearing from sight in the mists that cloak the mere."

Her gaze sweeps toward the adventurers, conveying a mix of concern and anticipation. "Be wary of your surroundings," she advises, her words measured. "The mere has its own secrets, and the creature you seek may not be the only danger lurking within."

“Ready?  Lives are at stake!” Eldon exclaims, looking to the others

With undisguised avarice as well as renewed faith and respect, Narrakas grinned broadly at the answer from Lady Othmor, and even more enthusiastically stood up straight at the follow up offer. Heck, he'd even gone that extra step further of given a rough approximation of a salute at her final point and says, "Right! We keep eye out for more stink-liking dead heads and big chompers for sure!" He declared. Then seeming to think a touch further on his word, spared Eldon a sidelong glance and adds, "And, uh... maybe save lives... maybe. But we killz beast for sure and bring back head if able."

In looking to the rest of the party, Eldon looks for Thune. The gnome is nowhere to be seen. 

"I am absolutely ready to face this danger!" says Fop.

Navigating the sparse trail to the reported monster's lair proves to be a challenge as the adventurers move further into the mist-shrouded marsh. Narrakas, Lord Foppington, and Eldon must rely on their intuition and keen senses to follow the faint signs of trampled vegetation left by the children who ventured this way. The path is barely discernible, often vanishing amidst the overgrown reeds and fog, requiring them to tread carefully to avoid losing their way.

((Players may suggest any checks they would like to do in exploration mode))

As they move deeper, they pass through areas where the mist thickens, shrouding their vision and creating an eerie atmosphere. Strange, luminescent plants illuminate the surroundings, casting an otherworldly glow on the marsh. Shadows dance in the mist, giving the impression of elusive forms lurking just out of sight.

The adventurers occasionally come across small footprints in the mud, half-covered by growth. These are the remnants of the children's passage, affirming that they are on the right track. The air is damp and cool, carrying with it the faint scent of decay and the distant croak of unseen creatures.

The landscape changes as they progress. The path dips into shallow pools, the water reflecting the ghostly light of the marsh's flora. Occasionally, they encounter gnarled trees rising like sentinels from the water, their branches twisted and dripping with moss. The silence is broken only by the distant call of birds and the soft rustling of reeds. 

As the adventurers continue, the air grows thick with an unsettling aura. The usual sounds of the marsh seem to fade into a hushed stillness, as if the very environment holds its breath in anticipation. Amidst this eerie quiet, they begin to perceive a distant, haunting melody, carried on a subtle, almost imperceptible breeze.

The melody is a discordant tune, a burbling sequence of notes that seem to echo from the depths of a nightmare. It's a sound that sends shivers down the spine and sets their nerves on edge. The tune seems to weave through the mist and reeds like an unseen thread, touching the very core of their fears and desires.

The adventurers might notice that their heartbeats fall into an odd rhythm with the melody, as if the tune itself is trying to seduce them into its macabre dance. Whispers seem to drift on the wind, faint and indistinct, like echoes of forgotten secrets. And with each step closer to the lair, the melody becomes clearer, more insistent, and impossible to ignore.

It's a sound that speaks of promises and peril, of luring enchantment and looming danger. As they near the lair, the tune becomes an almost palpable presence, settling in their minds like a weight. It's a warning, a call, and an invitation, all wrapped into one sinister melody that worms its way into their thoughts and leaves an indelible mark

((All players make a stealth check))