Brugg squints his eyes in disapproval when he hears his own voice coming out of the kenku, but brushes it off quickly. 

"Not to worry,…erm…I don’t believe I’ve caught yer name. No matter, I wouldn’t ask ya to risks yer neck without fair compensation. You’ll be paid once…or if…you return and confirm that all’s well. I’ll give ya 150 gold coins for the four of you. Or three of you, since the kid seems to want information instead. I’ll what I can do for you if you come back alive."

He stands up and picks up a scroll from a nearby bookshelf. Unfurling it over his desk. You see a small depiction of the Dawn Point and the immediate surrounding area. You conclude that this is a map of the explored region of Tyrannis. [DM will attempt to provide a visual aid in the next few days].

Brugg points at the map with his fat hairy fingers. "Getting there shouldn’t be too long. Maybe 2-3 hours. About 30 minutes outside the gates, you’ll find a water mill. Just follow the river afterward and ya should find the place easily enough."

He then rolls up the scroll and places it back on the shelf. "Oh. Also. There’s two of Bart’s crew that came back to town a few months back. Two halfling brothers. If ya got any questions, ya could ask them. I hear they like to hang out in that other inn. The Hammer and the Anvil."

He then slumps back down in his chair. "Any questions?"

Quote from SavageVince >>

While still waiting for each of your responses, Brugg catches Ember trying to go through the ledgers. He quickly closes the books and slides them out of the child’s reach. However, he does seem intrigued by your proposition.

"Oh? And what kind of information might you be looking for, little lady?", he asks with a corner grin.

 

 Huffing as the interesting number books are put out of reach, Ember shirks off her spellbook and fetches a piece of parchment stuck between the pages. She slides it across the desk, “I want to know if a gnome named Grandp—er… Zulgrim has been through here." It's a drawing--clearly done by a child--of what looks like an old gnome with bushy eyebrows that cover most of his eyes and a beard that nearly touches the ground. The gnome is smoking a long, curved pipe, the tendrils of smoke forming animal shapes. "I asked to see the, um, the manifests at the port but they said no way. And I asked some people around the town but they said, ‘no way, little girl, you stink get outta here!' Or they said I had to give them coin. And one time I did, but he just ran off instead... But maybe you have fingers in lots and lots and lots of pies all over, so you could… find out for me?”

((Sorry! Didn't see the edits til just now! Feel free to keep the current conversation going, but this is how she would've replied!))

Ember's eyes rapidly trace over the map, noting the markers and routes and any points of interest. Leaving the questioning to the others, she drops to her knees on the floor in front of the desk--disappearing from Brugg's view--and takes out a compressed piece of charcoal. Hunched over a blank page in her spellbook, she begins to furiously scrawl on it. 
((She'll use her Keen Mind feat to "accurately recall anything you have seen or heard within the past month" and make her own version of the map if that's okay!))

The massive blonde bearded warrior looks between the other adventurers as they each accept the mission in their own peculiar way, giving the bird-man an odd look as they suddenly speak just as the bugbear whose name he thinks is Brugg, but then he simply shakes his head and returns his attention to the bugbear. The reward for completing the quest would need to be split between them and calculus had never been his strong suit. Maybe if they split the coins in small mounds until they were fairly the same size, he thought, nodding to himself over this practical solution to the team's problem. Thurodim is visibly disappointed as he is told their journey would only last for a few hours when he was hoping to walk days or even weeks through harsh and unexplored terrain on this quest. "Yes, one question, where is this Hammer and Anvil?" He asks as he gets his gear again to leave. As the little girl with the squirrel nest for hair talks about looking for a gnome with a strange name even for a gnome he gives her a curious glance. "I'll help you find Grandperzulgrim." He rumbles with a smile that is intended to be reassuring, patting the girl's head gently to not accidentally squash the squirrel who hid somewhere in there.

Ozyre looks down at the kneeling girl to see what she's doing, then his head pops back up over the desk. He's utterly unperturbed. Seeing the expression on the massive blonde bearded warrior, he whispers up to him, "That's 50 gold each for you and me and the raven." Then, he directs his attention to Brugg. "I second what the big folk here said. We oughtta figure out where we're going before we go there. I think that's probably all."

At the pat to her head, Ember's hair puffs up like a bird's feathers and the scribbling pauses. Face hidden by the mass of hair, it's difficult to tell her reaction, though a quiet sniffle comes out from beneath.

'I'll help you.'

There's a slight warble in the small, "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ," of her response before the map making resumes.

In response to the barbarian’s question, Brugg says:

"The inn’s in the merchant district. Shouldn’t be to hard to find, there’s always a good crowd around it."

He says that last part a bit annoyed, possibly out of jealousy.

"Now, if ya don’t mind. I’ve got work to do…and so do you. Ya can see yerselves out. I wish you good luck out there. I’ll be waiting for yer return."

The eyes of the massive blonde bearded warrior goes briefly wide, clearly impressed with the Wee Folk's quick head. 50 gold sounded quite a lot, much more than he would have expected. His share ususally amounted to much less when others divided the reward but he had a feeling he might have been tricked once or twice. It didn't matter much to him though, as long as he had gold for beer.

Thurodim is about to ask where the merchant district is but decides the bugbear seems busy with his books and papers, he would simply have to find that crowd the bugbear had mentioned. The massive blonde bearded warrior finds himself feeling pity over the bugbear who was caught in here with a lot of books when he could have went out on the quest. Still, someone would need to keep the beer flowing at the inns and taverns. "We'll be back tomorrow to collect our reward." Thurodim rumbles confidently and turns to leave. "Come on adventurers, we have a crowd to find." He adds as he leaves the office to embark on their quest.

Perception to find crowd: 15

The Kenku stands up, nods to the bugbear, then takes a last look at the map, his eyes flicking back and forth between the actual map on the table and the charcoal sketch being prepared by Ember.  He tilts his head back and forth and makes a tittering sound, then lifts his rolling chest and takes it back down the stairs.

[Either now, or if there is some delay before the party leaves, later while they are walking towards the Hammer and Anvil.]

The Kenku walks alongside the others, slowly picking up the pace until he is slightly ahead of them so he can look back them all while speaking, his wheeled chest wobbling and rolling along behind him.  He opens his beak wide and addresses them all directly, for the first time.

After a brief pause with his beak hanging open, "Greetings.  Allow me to introduce myself, friends, allies, traveling companions, merchants, bartenders, tradesmen, or other interested parties not otherwise specified...".  It is the raspy, smoky voice of culture he used while trying to order at the bar.  "My name is... [Sound of Cork Popping]...."  It is not a name, or even a word that comes out, but the sound of a wine bottle being uncorked.  "If that seems unusual, please do not be put off.  It is customary for my people to take such sounds as names, and I have done likewise to honor my cultural heritage.  If intending to address me, the sound of my name is most easily replicated with humanoid lips by taking your thumb..." he holds out his hand, palm down, then curls the fingers into a fist, "... inserting it into your mouth and closing your lips around it..." he moves the thumb so that it is inside his wide open beak, "... and then sliding the thumb along the inside of your cheek, quickly, until it 'pops' back out of your mouth."  He rotates his wrist so the thumb exits his open mouth.  "Go ahead and try it... I will pause for a moment while you practice."

[Whether anyone actually does so or not, he continues after a brief pause...]

"Good!  Now that I have introduced myself, what is your..." he cuts himself off and shuts his mouth, then reopens it again, apparently skipping ahead in a pre-practiced speech.  He continues, "I am scholar, lately of the famous Saint Jaquelle Memorial Library, world's foremost repository of written knowledge of the material, physical, and natural sciences."  You notice that as he speaks, his beak just hangs open.  As time goes on, you become aware of a quiet whirring and clicking that is coming from his throat, as though his vocal cords are working overtime to recreate the sounds coming from his mouth.  "At present, I am either traveling to, or through, the land of Tyrannis, conducting research that I hope will form the basis for a future textbook on new world naturalism.  At a minimum, I expect to return to the library in a few years' time with extensive notes on the land's flora and fauna."

He continues walking, nearly tripping over a raised cobblestone in the street.  He seems to lose his place in his presentation then, looking back and forth at you with his small black eyes, then simply bows and falls back into place alongside you all.

Perception: 14 (15 - 1, rolled in log)

Ozyre happily follows the massive blonde bearded warrior, jumping back down the stairs and through the door. He even follows him outside for a bit. Then he realizes that said warrior is walking in the complete opposite direction of the inn. "Hey, Thurodim? Pretty sure the merchant district is that-a-way." He throws a gnomish thumb over his equally gnomish shoulder. "The sign that says 'Merchant District' and has a big arrow is a bit of a clue."

Thurodim looks down at the Wee Folk and then over at what the little generously tattooed man was indicating. Thurodim could read alright but he was focused on finding that crowd rather than some sign. As he has read the sign he nods to Ozyre and turns to go in the direction of the big arrow. "A very good clue, let's follow it." He says with sincerity, not quite catching what the Wee Folk meant.

As the bird man presents himself, the massive blonde bearded warrior puts down his equally massive maul and listens attentively, fascinated over the bird man's peculiar speech. He then does his best to create the sound of the bird man's name, doing it many times as he stands there in the street, quite ineptly at first, but eventually he at least manages to create some kind of sound when the finger leaves his mouth, sounding more like [meaty finger leaving big mouth and splashing saliva all over the place]. He then smiles down at [Sound of Cork Popping] seeming very pleased with himself before resuming his search for the crowd.

An utterly rapt audience of the kenku's introduction, Ember, hands and face now smudged with charcoal, munches on another handful of scraps she nabbed on her way out of the Wailing Wench. 

She's quiet a moment as it all sinks in, blinking up at the feathered scholar, then bursts from the seams. "I really like your name. [Sound of Cork Popping]! And Grandpa was a scholar too, you know! Some people called him a Sage. He wrote books and now you're writing a book! I've read lots of books you know--over a thousand! So I can read yours too! I bet it will be really, really good." Pleased to know about her new companion, she walks alongside him with extra pep in her already considerably peppy step.

It's after a moment of quiet consideration that she address him once more. "I'm... um. I'm sorry that I lied and said we were adventuring partners. I really don't like lying. I just, um... I didn't want to be kicked out again." With a sullen drop of her shoulders, she kicks a rock out of her path, feeling rather guilt-ridden. It doesn't last long before she perks up again. "But! Since we are adventuring partners now..." she hops along to get in front of the kenku, walking backwards so she can look up at him as she rapid-fires questions, "What's in your pet chest? And how come you're so good at doing other voices? And can you fly with your wings? How do you make your feathers so shiny and pretty? What's your favorite animal?"

Leaving the Wailing Wench, the party makes it way towards the merchant district. While walking, Ozyre manages to stop Thurodim from wandering off and getting completly lost. Following the sign reading "Merchant district", you walk through the streets and up some low-incline cobblestone stairs to a decidedly nicer-looking and more lively part of the town.

Every order street corner, you find merchants selling all kinds of products ranging from shoes, food, sweets, books, clothes, flowers, jewels, weapons and more. There are also several people shopping, a lot of them commoners but every now and then, you see an peculiar-looking individual that stands out from the masses. You infer that they might share your line of work. You walk for about twenty minutes through the labyrinthian streets, it becomes clear that this is one of the larger districts of the town. You eventually reach a plaza with a small park at its center. There are a few benches where citizens are sitting under the shade of trees. At the centre of this park stands a statue made of granite. It depicts a human with hair slicked back into a short ponytail wearing an elegant trench coat. He stands victorious with a sword in his hand raised to the sky and a dragon skull under his boot.

Across from the park, you find a rather large building. From the open windows, you see the soft glow of firelight and hear a mix of jaunty music and undiscernable chatter and laughter. Groups of people stand near the front door, chatting or drinking from a mug of ale. Under the front door hangs a sign depicting an anvil-headed hammer about to strike an actual anvil.

Ozyre is just as captivated by the raven's speech as the other two. His wide-yet-still-small eyes gaze up in pure curiosity. When the bird man falls back in line with the group, the curiosity doesn't cease. "You're a whazzit, aren't you? A keenkyu? Is that the right pronunciation? Sorry if I didn't pronounce that right, I've only ever seen it on paper. I suppose that's not really a problem you have, huh? I read a book about your kind once. Well, just a chapter of it was on that topic. Actually, it was a footnote. But still, very interesting stuff! I know a few people at my own library who'll go ham when they find out I met you."

When the comparably curious Ember starts to rifle off her questions, Ozyre leans over and whispers to her in Gnomish. "[Just so you know, our friend [Sound of Gnome Finger Leaving Gnome Mouth at Velocity] is working with a limited vocabulary, as I understand it. He's so good at doing voices because he doesn't have one. Of his own, I mean. So, y'know, be patient with more complicated questions.]" With this advice given, the gnome whirls around to ask a question of his own to the kenku. "If you don't mind me asking, who's the announcer that you got to say all that? Do you remember when you first met?"

Looking ahead for the first time in a bit, he spots a peculiar sign. "Oh, I bet that's the Hammer and Anvil! Or the, uhm, Hammer-Anvil and Anvil. Let's head over there while we talk."

Understanding brightens Ember's expression. "[Oh. Ooohhh. That's why he--ooohhh! He has to collect the words.]" She rubs at her chin in thought, smearing charcoal down it like a goatee. "[I wonder if his mind-voice is like that too? Or if it has all the words?]" In a flurry of movement, she's shirked out of the straps to her spellbook and is flipping through, looking for a specific spell and no longer paying attention to where she's going. A number of passerbys skirt around her to keep from colliding.

"Aggie, where is it?" she asks of the familiar on her shoulder, keeping one ear out for [Sound of Cork Popping's] answers. The little squirrel chirps then hops down onto the book and starts turning pages with his little paws.

On the way to the crowd at the Hammer and Anvil, Thurodim makes a brief stop at a vendor selling sweets and cookies, getting a small bag which he puts away in his left leather pant pocket after taking a cookie a dropping it down into the right, making the right pocket seemingly come to life with small excited chirps, making the massive blonde bearded warrior chuckle deeply to himself. As the group of intrepid adventurers cotinue to the Hammer and Anvil, Thurodim doesn't seem to take much notice of the talking going on far below him, not trying to be impolite, simply having limited capacity for multi-tasking. As the adventurers finally reach the sign depicting an anvil-headed hammer about to strike an actual anvil, Thurodim stops and looks at it for a moment, wondering who would create an anvil-headed hammer simply to be portrayed at a sign. He shakes his head at the confusing thought, nods to the Wee Folk and steps inside, his eyes scanning the place for two really small people, both looking like the other one. 

Perception: 15

The group enters the establishment and is indeed greeted by a much more significant crowd than at the Wailing Wench. Inside the two-storey building is a large open common room. There are tables on both floors both round and rectangular, much of which are occupied by groups of people. Unlike the Wailing Wench, this places feels warm and cozy, and has a festive atmosphere. At the end of the common room, there is a bar counter with dwarven woman serving ale. However, more surprising is the stage mounted behind and over the counter. There is currently a trio a musician playing an jaunty tune, one with a luth, one with a flute and one with a tambourine.

Another peculiar detail is the fireplace at the center of room, which is reminiscent of a blacksmith's furnace. A chimney goes up to the ceiling to release the smoke produced by the flames. You also smell a nice scent of something roasting on the fire.

Many of the patrons of the Hammer and the Anvil are a ragtag bunch. You see adventurers of all kinds. Some, like you, are scholars or martial types and sometime, something in between. Most common are the humans, a few dwarves, elves, a handful of dragonborns, the odd gnome here and there, etc.

Thurodim, after a quick scan of the room, you do manage to find two halflings that bear a striking resemblance to one another. They are currently in a deadlock in an armwrestling match at a table over on the right side.

As you enter the common room, a human man approaches you. He is fairly young, and his hair is combed to the side and a pair of spectacles rest on the bridge of his nose. He wears a chic pourpoint and a clean appron over it. He bows his head slightly to salute you. "Greetings. Welcome to the Hammer and the Anvil. Ho-", he starts before interrupting himself as he sees the little Ember.

"I'm sorry. Are you aware that this sort of establishment doesn't normally allow children?", he asks Thurodim, as he's the closest thing that resembles a potential father amongst your group. "We wouldn't want to be held responsible if your daughter were to accidentally drink something she's to young to handle."

The moment the man lays eyes on her, Ember waits for them to shift far far away and up to Thurodim’s face before she shifts behind the massive barbarian. With a quick casting, she rearranges her proportions in such a way that she looks much the same, though more mature in the face and clearly one of the wee folk. Suurrellyy just a trick of the eye that she appeared a child before—an easy mistake to make with the race.

“I’m sorry, sir, did you say ‘child’'?” she says, outraged as she steps out from behind Thurodim. “Haven’t you ever seen a halfling before?” It’s not a lie, she thinks to herself, just lots of implications and an honest question!

The massive blonde bearded warrior is about to answer the bespectacled aproned young man when an unknown halfling at his feet pipes up to do it for him. Thurodim looks worried as his eyes quickly searches around for the little redhead orphan adventurer, then looking down at the halfling with a growl. "Where did the little girl go?" He asks demandingly.

(Ember, please make a Stealth check, followed by a Deception check)