Salamir relaxes and waves Persephone over before turning back to the Half Orc with a smile, "Thanks for the advice, we'll certainly take it under consideration".
He waits for Persephone to leave and then follows her outside, a grimace on his face as he battles the smell. "What are the chances those raised voices are something to do with Connie and Ram?", he asks her as they exit.
"Ah, is that so? Fascinating!" For spirits? Could that be in connection with the necromancy she sensed from the stump? She's scribbling notes in her field journal when the temple doors open. Constance blinks after the blacksmith as she strides away, brows raised in admiration of her muscular frame. She eyes the black smoke--certainly not the normal light or yellowish gray--highly doubtful the smith is burning benzene, petroleum, or rubber to produce such a color.
"You know, I do believe the Good Doctor lost a horseshoe during our journey. He'll certainly need it replaced before we leave," she says, tipping her glasses down so as to give Ed and Rammand a significant look over the rim. We should speak with her.
"Agreed, it may smell of rotten egg out here, but inside it smells way too fishy for my liking", Salamir replies to Persephone with a chuckle. "Let's find the others and see what they have found, and maybe go see what important business that blacksmith is up to that couldn't wait".
With that said, he looks about for Connie, Ram and Ed.
The paladin remains standing between Constance, Rammand, and Ed but allows Salamir and Persephone to pass without blocking them.
"Spirits yes," the female paladin nods touching her symbol of the Dawn Father unconscious she's even doing it and moving on back to her post slightly obscured by the temple.
Once the paladin is out of earshot...
"What is going on here," Ed exclaims flabbergasted with a worried flick of their tail.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
Salamir watches the paladin head back to her post before turning to to the others, about to speak when Ed bets him to it.
"That is a very good question. That service was very odd, the locals seem cowed by these paladins. They talk about bringing the Dawn Father's light into the darker places, and yet they claim the issue is only wolves and they have sorted it. They seem very well armed and armoured, and yet they have a blacksmith rushing to produce more weapons", he whispers so as not to be overheard.
"What happened out here? What was that about spirits?".
An unconscious tension held in Constance’s shoulders is released at the arrival of the rest of their party. She wastes no time in updating the two on the child’s ominous Message, the ancient tree and enchanted axe that cut it down, the traces of necromancy, and the mention of warding off spirits.
“Should we warn Wyn and the children of the state of the things? And that their grandmother is in the… 'care' of the High Warden? It seems much has happened since their departure. If extended correspondence is preferable, I could resummon Archimedes to take a letter,” she offers to Ed.
She then taps her chin with a gloved finger, deep in thought. “I suppose the blacksmith is as good a lead as any? That’s certainly not any normal material being burned in there. And if she seems uncooperative,” she looks to Salamir with a quirked brow and the hint of a smirk, “you will simply have to use your roguish wiles to woo the truth out of her.”
A derisive, “Pfffttttt, what wiles,” can be heard from the book holster.
((Does the trail Rammand found from the tree being dragged off lead to the blacksmith’s barn by any chance?))
"Necromancy?", Persephone says about the tree. "My sister's insight would be valuable there. Yes, tell Wynn and the children. There were no children or elders in the church service, which was dour, sullen and authoritarian indeed. Was this the church when they were here? And maybe the children know the story of that tree. Ask when they expect to arrive. If after dark, we should go to meet them. And nap. We're (gestures at herself and Constance) fish out of water without our spells.
Meanwhile, we can talk to the blacksmith while we wait for a reply from Wynn.".
"I think a letter is an excellent idea, but we must be careful lest it make its way into unfriendly hands", Salamir replies. "Let's not spend too much time on it either, it is dragging on interminably but we don't know when the service will finish".
"And Alfie is right, perhaps it would be better for him to bore the information out of the blacksmith", he says with a chuckle, but there is not the usual humour in it. "This place makes me nervous, I half expected them not to let us leave the church. There is an underlying threat here, as well as the mystery. Sef is right, we need to be on our A game".
Constance glances sidelong at the elven rogue as she begins to pen a letter on a blank page of her journal. The lack of humor in his words and open admittance of nervousness pauses the scratch of quill against page.
“Then our immediate plan is to question the blacksmith, retrieve the horses, and find a safe location to sleep?” Constance looks to each of their group for confirmation.
“I realize this is much bigger than we anticipated. And I may not share any faith in the Gods, but what faith I do posses—” she says, blushing from her awkward attempt at reassurance, “—is entirely invested in all of you. We… we will get to the bottom of things.” Never one for overt emotion, Constance turns away to hide the show of it on her face. The sound of writing resumes.
You would’ve had something far more eloquent to say, she thinks with a melancholic smile.
"I can get the horses for us while ypu question the blacksmith, " Ed replies with a nod. "Send the letter but indeed make the information not explicitly clear to anyone outside our circle, " the tabaxi nods in agreement with Salamir. "I can send one message tomorrow but it's limited to just one," they point to a quill like amulet hanging around their neck. "It resets at dawn," they add.
OOC Rammand trail was leading out of town down the road to the Gunnulf farm not towards town and the blacksmith barn FYI
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
"Oh! Enchanted with a spell, then? Sending?" Constance asks as she half-turns to inspect the amulet. She makes a note in her journal that Ed will have use of it again at dawn.
The writing resumes once more as they walk together towards the blacksmith, though the words are all a strange jumble of letters and symbols. Once finished, she rolls the parchment into a tiny scroll and places it into a miniature holster. She then tears off a small piece of parchment and scribbles more, then rolls that up as well and inserts it into an even smaller metal pill vial with a screw cap. "Well... he's not going to be happy about this, but at least we can get an update on the wagon's whereabouts and well being at the same time."
With a snap of her fingers, Archimedes suddenly appears in a swirl of ink perched atop Rammand's head, the grumpy old owl's feathers already ruffled. Constance quickly attaches the holster to his ankle, suffering numerous pecks for being the cause of such indignity, then holds out the pill vial on her palm. The two make eye contact for a long moment, both of their expressions communicating a telepathic argument at the end of which the owl hisses and snatches the vial, swallowing it whole.
There's another snap of gloved fingers and the great horned owl disappears, only to reappear 30 feet up in the air above them. His wings unfold into an elegant glide as the familiar heads off and Constance sighs, the sound slightly strained. She brushes a few downy feathers from Rammand's shoulder.
"You, my dear, are going to have dead mice in your shoes for weeks," the spellbook titters.
((Essentially, Constance has just sent a coded letter with the key contained in that vial. When (if!?! aaaaa) the letter is delivered to Wyn, Archimedes will regurgitate the vial up like an owl pellet and Wyn can use the key inside to read it. The letter contains a quick summary of events and asks that they bypass the town entirely and head directly to the Gunnulf's farm (not sure if that was already the plan, but just in case!)))
((Also, how far away would Archimedes say they are/what's his best estimate of when they'll arrive? Would he have reported anything else of interest that's happened to them or has it been smooth sailing wagoning?))
OOC it's late morning, they won't arrive until nightfall so 50 miles or so? Wagon isn't a speedy thing with it's load of folks and DERBIE.
"Fascinating, " Ed says watching the familiar fly off as they head towards the livery and inn where the tabaxi left the horses.
The party then walks towards the barn finding the steady clang of a hammer on metal as well as the hiss of quenched steel! The smell of the forge quickly overpowers the stench of the braziers.
OOC any final plans before your meeting?
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
Salamir watches Archimedes fly away, relieved that it hadn't been him that it had appeared on this time.
"Perhaps you can help build a rapport with the blacksmith, with your shared interest in creating things", he asks Rammand. "That might help put her at ease so we can get more out of her".
"She did take an interest in myself and Sef in the church, that might be a good place to start beyond that".
As he walks towards the barn, he takes a good look around for any paladins that might be posted close by.
As they leave the main square, Constance stops to also look about, but for the child that sent her the message. Knowing the range of the cantrip means they could be anywhere, but also knowing they'd been watching her, she gives a little wave to unseen eyes then places her gloved hand over her heart. For whatever comfort that might provide them.
"I do hope she's more forthcoming then," the wizard says as she continues on, repeating the incantation for arcane-sight once more.
((Assuming it's been over ten minutes since she last cast it, I'll have Constance cast Detect Magic again before they head into the barn.))
Salamir doesn't see anyone from the clergy around the blacksmith forge. The doors are thrown open and even for the cold fall day the warmth radiates out towards the party into the streets beyond.
Constance notices that on the outside of the barn there's runes. These runes are abjuration as well. It's however only on the doors and windows she can see facing the street.
The clanging of hammer on iron continues as suddenly the party is met with a beautiful older dwarven woman. She's wearing an apron but is covered in the fluff of feathers for fletching arrows.
"Oh, hello," the dark skinned dwarven woman says plucking the feathers off as she smiles brightly.
The half-orc woman is working behind her at the forge hammering out a shield.
Rammand approaches the forge, seemingly ignoring the feather hanging from his beard. “Greetings. My name is Rammand and these are my friends. I apologize if I’m interrupting, but I couldn’t help myself. If I see a forge set ablaze, I must take a look. I’m something of a smith myself.”
A smile is stuck to Rammand’s face, the biggest genuine smile the group has seen since Kit’s death. His eyes fixate on the shield. “Nothing is more satisfying than shaping a hunk of metal into a work of art.”
"Greetings Rammand of house..." the older dwarven woman smirks at him, "I'm Dulana Stoneforge and that's my daughter-in-law Viga Otto," she adds gesturing at the half-orc who finally pauses in her hammering to just long enough to give the party a curt nod before beginning again.
It's a kite shield from the looks of it and she's putting on a crest. It looks like a tree spreading it's branches out towards a disc above with rays of light shining down upon it.
"Please, please come in, come in! All are welcome, " Dulana says plucking even more feathers from her two long braids framing her face. "You are something of a smith you say?" Dulana asks Rammand. "A smith of what, " she adds curiously as she welcomes the party into a small area away from the furious clang of the hammering where they can talk a little easier.
The area is basically the store front where wondrous weapons are displayed from the smallest throwing dart to a greatsword mounted on the wall the hilt depicting twin wolves facing each other but their howling mouths are separated by a large ruby!
“Apologies, Rammand of house Drunksong.” Following the woman, he begins digging into his bag. “Not just a smith, but a bit of an alchemist and a tinkerer as well.”
He produces a light hammer and an odd contraption the group has not seen before. “I’ve made weapons and armor, like this hammer. But this…” Giving everyone a good look at the item, shows two small, curved metal straws connected to a frame. The straws connect in a T, which is attached to an empty vial set in the frame with a rubber bulb at the bottom end. “This device is used for a medical emergency. You load a vial containing whatever medicine, let’s say a bit of a healing potion. Your friend is injured and unconscious. So you pump the bulb, which adds pressurized air into the vial.” He pump the bulb a few times. “You put the tubes in your friend’s nose and flip this valve…” As he follows his instructions, the valve flips and an audible puff of air comes out. “The pressurized air atomizes the potion and shoots it into your friend. Providing instant, but not significant, healing. Now you can get your friend to a healer or at the very least, out of danger.”
Salamir stands back and watches Rammand interact with the older dwarven lady, a very slight smile creasing his face seeing how his friend has lit up talking about his craft.
Whilst Rammand is conversing with the dwarven lady, he takes the time to get a closer look at the weapons on display before realising Rammand will talk about smithing all day if left to it. Clearing his throat audibly, he turns to Rammand, "Perhaps when you have finished demonstrating your device you would so kind as to introduce the rest of us, Rammand of House Drunksong", he says with a smile.
Salamir relaxes and waves Persephone over before turning back to the Half Orc with a smile, "Thanks for the advice, we'll certainly take it under consideration".
He waits for Persephone to leave and then follows her outside, a grimace on his face as he battles the smell. "What are the chances those raised voices are something to do with Connie and Ram?", he asks her as they exit.
As the door closes, Persephone Whispers to Salamir "Better the scent of the incense out here than the scent of authority in there".
Then (normal voice "Is someone arguing? We'd better check it out ".Then whispering "Almost certainly Connie & Ram".
"Ah, is that so? Fascinating!" For spirits? Could that be in connection with the necromancy she sensed from the stump? She's scribbling notes in her field journal when the temple doors open. Constance blinks after the blacksmith as she strides away, brows raised in admiration of her muscular frame. She eyes the black smoke--certainly not the normal light or yellowish gray--highly doubtful the smith is burning benzene, petroleum, or rubber to produce such a color.
"You know, I do believe the Good Doctor lost a horseshoe during our journey. He'll certainly need it replaced before we leave," she says, tipping her glasses down so as to give Ed and Rammand a significant look over the rim. We should speak with her.
"Agreed, it may smell of rotten egg out here, but inside it smells way too fishy for my liking", Salamir replies to Persephone with a chuckle. "Let's find the others and see what they have found, and maybe go see what important business that blacksmith is up to that couldn't wait".
With that said, he looks about for Connie, Ram and Ed.
The paladin remains standing between Constance, Rammand, and Ed but allows Salamir and Persephone to pass without blocking them.
"Spirits yes," the female paladin nods touching her symbol of the Dawn Father unconscious she's even doing it and moving on back to her post slightly obscured by the temple.
Once the paladin is out of earshot...
"What is going on here," Ed exclaims flabbergasted with a worried flick of their tail.
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
Salamir watches the paladin head back to her post before turning to to the others, about to speak when Ed bets him to it.
"That is a very good question. That service was very odd, the locals seem cowed by these paladins. They talk about bringing the Dawn Father's light into the darker places, and yet they claim the issue is only wolves and they have sorted it. They seem very well armed and armoured, and yet they have a blacksmith rushing to produce more weapons", he whispers so as not to be overheard.
"What happened out here? What was that about spirits?".
An unconscious tension held in Constance’s shoulders is released at the arrival of the rest of their party. She wastes no time in updating the two on the child’s ominous Message, the ancient tree and enchanted axe that cut it down, the traces of necromancy, and the mention of warding off spirits.
“Should we warn Wyn and the children of the state of the things? And that their grandmother is in the… 'care' of the High Warden? It seems much has happened since their departure. If extended correspondence is preferable, I could resummon Archimedes to take a letter,” she offers to Ed.
She then taps her chin with a gloved finger, deep in thought. “I suppose the blacksmith is as good a lead as any? That’s certainly not any normal material being burned in there. And if she seems uncooperative,” she looks to Salamir with a quirked brow and the hint of a smirk, “you will simply have to use your roguish wiles to woo the truth out of her.”
A derisive, “Pfffttttt, what wiles,” can be heard from the book holster.
((Does the trail Rammand found from the tree being dragged off lead to the blacksmith’s barn by any chance?))
"Necromancy?", Persephone says about the tree. "My sister's insight would be valuable there. Yes, tell Wynn and the children. There were no children or elders in the church service, which was dour, sullen and authoritarian indeed. Was this the church when they were here? And maybe the children know the story of that tree. Ask when they expect to arrive. If after dark, we should go to meet them. And nap. We're (gestures at herself and Constance) fish out of water without our spells.
Meanwhile, we can talk to the blacksmith while we wait for a reply from Wynn.".
"I think a letter is an excellent idea, but we must be careful lest it make its way into unfriendly hands", Salamir replies. "Let's not spend too much time on it either, it is dragging on interminably but we don't know when the service will finish".
"And Alfie is right, perhaps it would be better for him to bore the information out of the blacksmith", he says with a chuckle, but there is not the usual humour in it. "This place makes me nervous, I half expected them not to let us leave the church. There is an underlying threat here, as well as the mystery. Sef is right, we need to be on our A game".
Constance glances sidelong at the elven rogue as she begins to pen a letter on a blank page of her journal. The lack of humor in his words and open admittance of nervousness pauses the scratch of quill against page.
“Then our immediate plan is to question the blacksmith, retrieve the horses, and find a safe location to sleep?” Constance looks to each of their group for confirmation.
“I realize this is much bigger than we anticipated. And I may not share any faith in the Gods, but what faith I do posses—” she says, blushing from her awkward attempt at reassurance, “—is entirely invested in all of you. We… we will get to the bottom of things.” Never one for overt emotion, Constance turns away to hide the show of it on her face. The sound of writing resumes.
You would’ve had something far more eloquent to say, she thinks with a melancholic smile.
"I can get the horses for us while ypu question the blacksmith, " Ed replies with a nod. "Send the letter but indeed make the information not explicitly clear to anyone outside our circle, " the tabaxi nods in agreement with Salamir. "I can send one message tomorrow but it's limited to just one," they point to a quill like amulet hanging around their neck. "It resets at dawn," they add.
OOC Rammand trail was leading out of town down the road to the Gunnulf farm not towards town and the blacksmith barn FYI
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
"Oh! Enchanted with a spell, then? Sending?" Constance asks as she half-turns to inspect the amulet. She makes a note in her journal that Ed will have use of it again at dawn.
The writing resumes once more as they walk together towards the blacksmith, though the words are all a strange jumble of letters and symbols. Once finished, she rolls the parchment into a tiny scroll and places it into a miniature holster. She then tears off a small piece of parchment and scribbles more, then rolls that up as well and inserts it into an even smaller metal pill vial with a screw cap. "Well... he's not going to be happy about this, but at least we can get an update on the wagon's whereabouts and well being at the same time."
With a snap of her fingers, Archimedes suddenly appears in a swirl of ink perched atop Rammand's head, the grumpy old owl's feathers already ruffled. Constance quickly attaches the holster to his ankle, suffering numerous pecks for being the cause of such indignity, then holds out the pill vial on her palm. The two make eye contact for a long moment, both of their expressions communicating a telepathic argument at the end of which the owl hisses and snatches the vial, swallowing it whole.
There's another snap of gloved fingers and the great horned owl disappears, only to reappear 30 feet up in the air above them. His wings unfold into an elegant glide as the familiar heads off and Constance sighs, the sound slightly strained. She brushes a few downy feathers from Rammand's shoulder.
"You, my dear, are going to have dead mice in your shoes for weeks," the spellbook titters.
((Essentially, Constance has just sent a coded letter with the key contained in that vial. When (if!?! aaaaa) the letter is delivered to Wyn, Archimedes will regurgitate the vial up like an owl pellet and Wyn can use the key inside to read it. The letter contains a quick summary of events and asks that they bypass the town entirely and head directly to the Gunnulf's farm (not sure if that was already the plan, but just in case!)))
((Also, how far away would Archimedes say they are/what's his best estimate of when they'll arrive? Would he have reported anything else of interest that's happened to them or has it been smooth
sailingwagoning?))OOC it's late morning, they won't arrive until nightfall so 50 miles or so? Wagon isn't a speedy thing with it's load of folks and DERBIE.
"Fascinating, " Ed says watching the familiar fly off as they head towards the livery and inn where the tabaxi left the horses.
The party then walks towards the barn finding the steady clang of a hammer on metal as well as the hiss of quenched steel! The smell of the forge quickly overpowers the stench of the braziers.
OOC any final plans before your meeting?
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
Salamir watches Archimedes fly away, relieved that it hadn't been him that it had appeared on this time.
"Perhaps you can help build a rapport with the blacksmith, with your shared interest in creating things", he asks Rammand. "That might help put her at ease so we can get more out of her".
"She did take an interest in myself and Sef in the church, that might be a good place to start beyond that".
As he walks towards the barn, he takes a good look around for any paladins that might be posted close by.
Perception: 15+2=17
As they leave the main square, Constance stops to also look about, but for the child that sent her the message. Knowing the range of the cantrip means they could be anywhere, but also knowing they'd been watching her, she gives a little wave to unseen eyes then places her gloved hand over her heart. For whatever comfort that might provide them.
"I do hope she's more forthcoming then," the wizard says as she continues on, repeating the incantation for arcane-sight once more.
((Assuming it's been over ten minutes since she last cast it, I'll have Constance cast Detect Magic again before they head into the barn.))
Salamir doesn't see anyone from the clergy around the blacksmith forge. The doors are thrown open and even for the cold fall day the warmth radiates out towards the party into the streets beyond.
Constance notices that on the outside of the barn there's runes. These runes are abjuration as well. It's however only on the doors and windows she can see facing the street.
The clanging of hammer on iron continues as suddenly the party is met with a beautiful older dwarven woman. She's wearing an apron but is covered in the fluff of feathers for fletching arrows.
"Oh, hello," the dark skinned dwarven woman says plucking the feathers off as she smiles brightly.
The half-orc woman is working behind her at the forge hammering out a shield.
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
Rammand approaches the forge, seemingly ignoring the feather hanging from his beard. “Greetings. My name is Rammand and these are my friends. I apologize if I’m interrupting, but I couldn’t help myself. If I see a forge set ablaze, I must take a look. I’m something of a smith myself.”
A smile is stuck to Rammand’s face, the biggest genuine smile the group has seen since Kit’s death. His eyes fixate on the shield. “Nothing is more satisfying than shaping a hunk of metal into a work of art.”
"Greetings Rammand of house..." the older dwarven woman smirks at him, "I'm Dulana Stoneforge and that's my daughter-in-law Viga Otto," she adds gesturing at the half-orc who finally pauses in her hammering to just long enough to give the party a curt nod before beginning again.
It's a kite shield from the looks of it and she's putting on a crest. It looks like a tree spreading it's branches out towards a disc above with rays of light shining down upon it.
"Please, please come in, come in! All are welcome, " Dulana says plucking even more feathers from her two long braids framing her face. "You are something of a smith you say?" Dulana asks Rammand. "A smith of what, " she adds curiously as she welcomes the party into a small area away from the furious clang of the hammering where they can talk a little easier.
The area is basically the store front where wondrous weapons are displayed from the smallest throwing dart to a greatsword mounted on the wall the hilt depicting twin wolves facing each other but their howling mouths are separated by a large ruby!
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
“Apologies, Rammand of house Drunksong.” Following the woman, he begins digging into his bag. “Not just a smith, but a bit of an alchemist and a tinkerer as well.”
He produces a light hammer and an odd contraption the group has not seen before. “I’ve made weapons and armor, like this hammer. But this…” Giving everyone a good look at the item, shows two small, curved metal straws connected to a frame. The straws connect in a T, which is attached to an empty vial set in the frame with a rubber bulb at the bottom end. “This device is used for a medical emergency. You load a vial containing whatever medicine, let’s say a bit of a healing potion. Your friend is injured and unconscious. So you pump the bulb, which adds pressurized air into the vial.” He pump the bulb a few times. “You put the tubes in your friend’s nose and flip this valve…” As he follows his instructions, the valve flips and an audible puff of air comes out. “The pressurized air atomizes the potion and shoots it into your friend. Providing instant, but not significant, healing. Now you can get your friend to a healer or at the very least, out of danger.”
Salamir stands back and watches Rammand interact with the older dwarven lady, a very slight smile creasing his face seeing how his friend has lit up talking about his craft.
Whilst Rammand is conversing with the dwarven lady, he takes the time to get a closer look at the weapons on display before realising Rammand will talk about smithing all day if left to it. Clearing his throat audibly, he turns to Rammand, "Perhaps when you have finished demonstrating your device you would so kind as to introduce the rest of us, Rammand of House Drunksong", he says with a smile.