The morning opens on Tuvig. A snowy village north of the Southern Shield (Lugsaas Chain) on the southern shores of the Utaak Stream. A large village made of stone huts and buildings. Nearly every structure has a forge of variable size attached. The muffled clang of hammering metal can be heard from dawn to dusk most days but not this day. On the eve of the local fire festival hammers are still and their weilders sleep. The festival itself will begin at dusk but preparations have been made of weeks in anticipation. Every room in Tuvig's two taverns are let not to mention every spare room in town being occupied! All citizens and their visitors alike have waited all year for this event and so few bring this varied settlement of smiths and their descendants together than the annual fire festival!
We discover our party in varying states of undress and waking up for the day ahead. They're cozy on a large room with two sets of bunks and one large bed. It's the best room at Tonee's Hearth, the tavern and inn, they found a room the night before after a week's trek on the snow from Ishe. It's an unusual morning. The sun doesn't come out until afternoon and it hangs in the brilliant blue skies for a short few hours before setting again during the winter months. The party can hear muffled voices below on the tavern of patrons and workers alike beginning their day. It's up to them to figure out what's ahead before the ceremony starts at sunset. They got in late the night before but sleeping in a heated room was a luxury in comparison to sleeping rough the last week. They can linger in their beds or go downstairs. The appointment that Thrash made with Jadviga Aldersen is later that afternoon. The smith had been corresponding with traders in Luskan to sell her wares and Thrash had been impressed by them. Seeking out the smith he learned that she never sent her weapons to anyone. They were to be collected by the one weilding them or not sold at all.
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Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
I pop out of bed Sleeping without boots on feels amazing No knots in the back A relatively warm floor And a warm bustle arising from below in the tavern.
‘Merry morning to one and all’. I shout to my companions with an abundance of good cheer…. ‘ What a great sleep! I haven’t felt this good in weeks! Let’s get moving! Oh Thrash - I guess it’s my turn for the big bed tomorrow. I’ll just use my own pillow if you don’t mind - no offense….’ I arch an eyebrow at his pillow. Now that sleepiny arrangements are settled - let’s go downstairs!
I hastily throw on my leather armour and strap Elegy by my side. ‘ I wonder what is for breakfast? A fire festival has to be quite a sight! Let’s go talk to the locals. We also need to find out who has been corresponding to the bosses in Luskan.
Thrash would let our a low hiss-like growl as one eye slowly opened. The hulking lizardfolk hated the cold. Even with his magical ring that helped to ward off the freezing temperatures outside... it was still far from warm enough for his liking. He remained under his warm blankets, unmoving at first. It wasn't until Longtoe mentioned taking his bed that he finally set up, slowly turning to look at the halfling. "We'll see about that... Maybe if you impress me today we'll discuss it. As for now though, the only way you are sleeping in that bed is if I decide to get hungry in the middle of the night and you end up in my stomach." Thrash would give a small raspy grunt followed by a small grin that revealed numerous razor sharp teeth. He would then grab his drool soaked pillow and throw it towards the halfling before slowly making his way to his feet. The bed creaks loudly as the weight of the colossal creature leaves its frame. "I'm ready to for something to eat as well... I just hope they have enough.." He would reply as he begins to grab his gear. After collecting his greatsword and backpack from beside the bed, he would extinguish the flame within the lantern on the nearby nightstand. Once the last wisps of smoke had dissipated, he would hook the lantern to his belt before moving slowly towards the door. His heavy tail would scrap across the wooden floor as he groggily made his way across the room. Once he arrived at the door he would wait for the rest of the crew gather their equipment and prepare to leave. "We have some time to kill before I'm due to pick up my purchase... I'm sure we can spend some time at the festival until then."
Drakar awakes to the sound of his new companions preparing for the day. He springs out of bed landing lightly on his feet. After a bit mumbling and waving of his hands he casts Prestidigitation several times to tidy himself up.
When his Fine Clothes are clean and pressed, only then does the red Dragonborn acknowledge his surroundings. “A fine day to spread the legend of Drakar,” he says stretching.
Grabbing his Bag of Holding and slinging his custom bagpipes under his arm, he heads for the door. “I’m surprised you waited,” he says to Thrash. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you awake this long without filling your face,” he teases.
Tashia gives a lazy stretch and contemplates quite seriously whether she would prefer to enjoy the comforts of a warm bed or a warm meal. Eventually, she decides on the latter and heads downstairs to join her companions.
"Anything good," she asks the others as she signals the barmaid for an ale.
"Not sure what's planned for the day but, if I could have some time, I'd love to check out the local smithies."
"Good one Drakar... One more word and you'll be eating your bagpipes... The legend of Drakar... a dragonborn that played a tune every time he broke wind." The lizardfolk would grumble with a toothy grin.
As the last of his team filed through the door, Thrash would scan the room to ensure nothing was left behind before making his way downstairs. The stairs would creak under his weight, and his tail would thump loudly as it slammed into every step. After making his way to his companions table, he would sit down hard as the wooden chair nearly buckles under his weight. "I want some meat... and lots of it." The lizardfolk would grunt as he pulled a gold coin from his belt and placed it on the table. "Two ales and a cider for me as well..." he would add before placing down 2 more gold coins.
When Tashia mentioned checking out the Smiths, Thrash would lock eyes with the half-orc. "I think most of them are closed for the festival right now. I'm sure we can stop at all the shops and stalls you want today... I think many of the craftsmen will be trying to show off their goods."
Brighton asks for a small plate, mostly meat. Do they have any mead? He stares curiously around Tonee’s Hearth, looking for the eponymous Tonee… or any other outlanders or curiosities on this fine morning.
Longtoe has little use for games of strength. He looks towards the bar. Perhaps a chat with the nearby bartender?
He turns to Drakar. Hard to believe the Dragonborn just finished the long trek beside him. He looks like he just stepped out of a castle!
Drakar, a rather tall and lanky Dragonborn, laughs dramatically, “Tashia my dear your jokes are getting better.” Placing hands on hips he continues, “For we all know that Drakar does not arm wrestle, HE PIPES!” And with that he inflates his bagpipe and plays a quick tune. Thankfully short, but enough to rouse anyone still sleeping in the building.
An older air genasi woman appears clad in a flour covered apron with a platter of meats, breads, and cheeses. She's luminous with white hair in a perpetual breeze and soft baby blue skin. You met her son the evening before. He was on the late shift and between talking to a pretty gray dwarven woman absolute nonsense he gave Thrash the keys to the room which Trash was gifted by P&G for the duration of the festival which takes place over three nights.
"Sorry for the delay, " the air genasi begins her introductions. She speaks with a heavily accent that isn't quite Tuvig unlike her son whose tone has the gruf lilt as other locals you've encountered so far. "Kitchen is closed. We're busy for the festival tonight but this is what I can muster, " she adds setting the small shield size tray of slightly upgraded rations. The breads however are freshly baked. "Ale," she asks looking around. "Coffee, " she adds gesturing again around at the party. "I'm Quinn Tonee by the way. This is my tavern and I appreciate your business, " she explains lingering for questions amd/or concerns.
Brighton casually looking around (passive perception, roll perception to notice anything else) the late morning crowd is spare. A few finely dressed trades, fur clad hunters, and plainly dressed locals are all enjoying a similar ad-hoc breakfast.
"Yes, of course. I can bring a pony keg and a pot of coffee. Your room and board have been taken care of, " Quinn says gesturing at Thrash's gold and shaking her head. "Tip the staff, " she says winking at the lizardfolk! "Ah...the best smith," she pauses with a smirk. "You're new so I will try not to be entirely biased but my daughter and her wife's forge are not very far from the tavern," she begins smiling brightly. "Aldersen forge has anything you'd want and my Gwyn is probably the best enchanter in the village or...excusing a mother's admiration of course with a thousand miles," she adds. "She...she takes after her father," she then explains slightly somber, "he...he was the first enchanter to settle down in Tuvig years and years ago, " she adds with a sigh. "Anything else? Master Polux was particularly generous but with the festival I'm sorry I couldn't do more this morning for you all. Room is nice yes?" Quinn asks looking around at the party.
"Yes. Very nice. Even if we weren't just off the open road. Your daughter and her wife, eh? Mom had nothing to do with dad's forge. I'd love to see how something like that runs. Any chance they'd let an old bellows girl visit sometime while we're here?"
"I changed my mind, A pint of hit coffee sounds good this morning... I'll take the ale later tonight." He would reply with a nod. "And keep the gold, consider it a tip" He would then reach into his pouch and pull out three more gold coins. "Here... add this to it. Split it with your staff and enjoy the festival." The lizardfolk would the grab a large fist full of both meat and cheese before tossing it into his mouth. A few crumbs fall on to the table but surprisingly little manages to escape his toothy maw.
"Think there'll be any competitions? I could use a good workout," Tashia asks through a mouthful of sausage.
"What about you Drak, planning on trying to perform for a bit of coin? Longtoe, I guess you'll be looking for your cousin. What about you, Boss, any particular plans? I mean, aside from the obvious."
‘It is a pleasure to meet you, Quinn. My name is Brighton. Have you any chance heard of my cousin Hamill? I would very much like to see how he is doing - we grew up together. Last I heard he was headed towards Tuvig…’
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The morning opens on Tuvig. A snowy village north of the Southern Shield (Lugsaas Chain) on the southern shores of the Utaak Stream. A large village made of stone huts and buildings. Nearly every structure has a forge of variable size attached. The muffled clang of hammering metal can be heard from dawn to dusk most days but not this day. On the eve of the local fire festival hammers are still and their weilders sleep. The festival itself will begin at dusk but preparations have been made of weeks in anticipation. Every room in Tuvig's two taverns are let not to mention every spare room in town being occupied! All citizens and their visitors alike have waited all year for this event and so few bring this varied settlement of smiths and their descendants together than the annual fire festival!
We discover our party in varying states of undress and waking up for the day ahead. They're cozy on a large room with two sets of bunks and one large bed. It's the best room at Tonee's Hearth, the tavern and inn, they found a room the night before after a week's trek on the snow from Ishe. It's an unusual morning. The sun doesn't come out until afternoon and it hangs in the brilliant blue skies for a short few hours before setting again during the winter months. The party can hear muffled voices below on the tavern of patrons and workers alike beginning their day. It's up to them to figure out what's ahead before the ceremony starts at sunset. They got in late the night before but sleeping in a heated room was a luxury in comparison to sleeping rough the last week. They can linger in their beds or go downstairs. The appointment that Thrash made with Jadviga Aldersen is later that afternoon. The smith had been corresponding with traders in Luskan to sell her wares and Thrash had been impressed by them. Seeking out the smith he learned that she never sent her weapons to anyone. They were to be collected by the one weilding them or not sold at all.
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
I pop out of bed Sleeping without boots on feels amazing No knots in the back A relatively warm floor And a warm bustle arising from below in the tavern.
‘Merry morning to one and all’. I shout to my companions with an abundance of good cheer…. ‘ What a great sleep! I haven’t felt this good in weeks! Let’s get moving! Oh Thrash - I guess it’s my turn for the big bed tomorrow. I’ll just use my own pillow if you don’t mind - no offense….’ I arch an eyebrow at his pillow. Now that sleepiny arrangements are settled - let’s go downstairs!
I hastily throw on my leather armour and strap Elegy by my side. ‘ I wonder what is for breakfast? A fire festival has to be quite a sight! Let’s go talk to the locals. We also need to find out who has been corresponding to the bosses in Luskan.
‘Who is ready?’ I look around the room.
Thrash would let our a low hiss-like growl as one eye slowly opened. The hulking lizardfolk hated the cold. Even with his magical ring that helped to ward off the freezing temperatures outside... it was still far from warm enough for his liking. He remained under his warm blankets, unmoving at first. It wasn't until Longtoe mentioned taking his bed that he finally set up, slowly turning to look at the halfling. "We'll see about that... Maybe if you impress me today we'll discuss it. As for now though, the only way you are sleeping in that bed is if I decide to get hungry in the middle of the night and you end up in my stomach." Thrash would give a small raspy grunt followed by a small grin that revealed numerous razor sharp teeth. He would then grab his drool soaked pillow and throw it towards the halfling before slowly making his way to his feet. The bed creaks loudly as the weight of the colossal creature leaves its frame. "I'm ready to for something to eat as well... I just hope they have enough.." He would reply as he begins to grab his gear. After collecting his greatsword and backpack from beside the bed, he would extinguish the flame within the lantern on the nearby nightstand. Once the last wisps of smoke had dissipated, he would hook the lantern to his belt before moving slowly towards the door. His heavy tail would scrap across the wooden floor as he groggily made his way across the room. Once he arrived at the door he would wait for the rest of the crew gather their equipment and prepare to leave. "We have some time to kill before I'm due to pick up my purchase... I'm sure we can spend some time at the festival until then."
Dexterity check (22)
Pillow throw attack? 11
I look at Thrash. ‘These guys keep sleeping. Maybe just the two of us should go downstairs?’
(Waiting for my initiative turn)
Drakar awakes to the sound of his new companions preparing for the day. He springs out of bed landing lightly on his feet. After a bit mumbling and waving of his hands he casts Prestidigitation several times to tidy himself up.
When his Fine Clothes are clean and pressed, only then does the red Dragonborn acknowledge his surroundings. “A fine day to spread the legend of Drakar,” he says stretching.
Grabbing his Bag of Holding and slinging his custom bagpipes under his arm, he heads for the door. “I’m surprised you waited,” he says to Thrash. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you awake this long without filling your face,” he teases.
Tashia gives a lazy stretch and contemplates quite seriously whether she would prefer to enjoy the comforts of a warm bed or a warm meal. Eventually, she decides on the latter and heads downstairs to join her companions.
"Anything good," she asks the others as she signals the barmaid for an ale.
"Not sure what's planned for the day but, if I could have some time, I'd love to check out the local smithies."
"Good one Drakar... One more word and you'll be eating your bagpipes... The legend of Drakar... a dragonborn that played a tune every time he broke wind." The lizardfolk would grumble with a toothy grin.
As the last of his team filed through the door, Thrash would scan the room to ensure nothing was left behind before making his way downstairs. The stairs would creak under his weight, and his tail would thump loudly as it slammed into every step. After making his way to his companions table, he would sit down hard as the wooden chair nearly buckles under his weight. "I want some meat... and lots of it." The lizardfolk would grunt as he pulled a gold coin from his belt and placed it on the table. "Two ales and a cider for me as well..." he would add before placing down 2 more gold coins.
When Tashia mentioned checking out the Smiths, Thrash would lock eyes with the half-orc. "I think most of them are closed for the festival right now. I'm sure we can stop at all the shops and stalls you want today... I think many of the craftsmen will be trying to show off their goods."
"Pity. The real art isn't in the objects, it's in the making. Maybe we'll have some time tomorrow?"
She looks at the Lizardfolk hopefully.
"Hey Drak, wanna arm wrestle while we wait for food?"
Brighton asks for a small plate, mostly meat. Do they have any mead? He stares curiously around Tonee’s Hearth, looking for the eponymous Tonee… or any other outlanders or curiosities on this fine morning.
Longtoe has little use for games of strength. He looks towards the bar. Perhaps a chat with the nearby bartender?
He turns to Drakar. Hard to believe the Dragonborn just finished the long trek beside him. He looks like he just stepped out of a castle!
Drakar, a rather tall and lanky Dragonborn, laughs dramatically, “Tashia my dear your jokes are getting better.” Placing hands on hips he continues, “For we all know that Drakar does not arm wrestle, HE PIPES!” And with that he inflates his bagpipe and plays a quick tune. Thankfully short, but enough to rouse anyone still sleeping in the building.
An older air genasi woman appears clad in a flour covered apron with a platter of meats, breads, and cheeses. She's luminous with white hair in a perpetual breeze and soft baby blue skin. You met her son the evening before. He was on the late shift and between talking to a pretty gray dwarven woman absolute nonsense he gave Thrash the keys to the room which Trash was gifted by P&G for the duration of the festival which takes place over three nights.
"Sorry for the delay, " the air genasi begins her introductions. She speaks with a heavily accent that isn't quite Tuvig unlike her son whose tone has the gruf lilt as other locals you've encountered so far. "Kitchen is closed. We're busy for the festival tonight but this is what I can muster, " she adds setting the small shield size tray of slightly upgraded rations. The breads however are freshly baked. "Ale," she asks looking around. "Coffee, " she adds gesturing again around at the party. "I'm Quinn Tonee by the way. This is my tavern and I appreciate your business, " she explains lingering for questions amd/or concerns.
Brighton casually looking around (passive perception, roll perception to notice anything else) the late morning crowd is spare. A few finely dressed trades, fur clad hunters, and plainly dressed locals are all enjoying a similar ad-hoc breakfast.
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
"Both, please. If it's not too much trouble."
"I know you're busy but, if I can bother you a bit, whodoya figure is the best smith in town?"
"Yes, of course. I can bring a pony keg and a pot of coffee. Your room and board have been taken care of, " Quinn says gesturing at Thrash's gold and shaking her head. "Tip the staff, " she says winking at the lizardfolk! "Ah...the best smith," she pauses with a smirk. "You're new so I will try not to be entirely biased but my daughter and her wife's forge are not very far from the tavern," she begins smiling brightly. "Aldersen forge has anything you'd want and my Gwyn is probably the best enchanter in the village or...excusing a mother's admiration of course with a thousand miles," she adds. "She...she takes after her father," she then explains slightly somber, "he...he was the first enchanter to settle down in Tuvig years and years ago, " she adds with a sigh. "Anything else? Master Polux was particularly generous but with the festival I'm sorry I couldn't do more this morning for you all. Room is nice yes?" Quinn asks looking around at the party.
Sometimes a Nat 1 tells a better story than a Nat 20 ever could.
"Yes. Very nice. Even if we weren't just off the open road. Your daughter and her wife, eh? Mom had nothing to do with dad's forge. I'd love to see how something like that runs. Any chance they'd let an old bellows girl visit sometime while we're here?"
"I changed my mind, A pint of hit coffee sounds good this morning... I'll take the ale later tonight." He would reply with a nod. "And keep the gold, consider it a tip" He would then reach into his pouch and pull out three more gold coins. "Here... add this to it. Split it with your staff and enjoy the festival." The lizardfolk would the grab a large fist full of both meat and cheese before tossing it into his mouth. A few crumbs fall on to the table but surprisingly little manages to escape his toothy maw.
"Think there'll be any competitions? I could use a good workout," Tashia asks through a mouthful of sausage.
"What about you Drak, planning on trying to perform for a bit of coin? Longtoe, I guess you'll be looking for your cousin. What about you, Boss, any particular plans? I mean, aside from the obvious."
‘It is a pleasure to meet you, Quinn. My name is Brighton. Have you any chance heard of my cousin Hamill? I would very much like to see how he is doing - we grew up together. Last I heard he was headed towards Tuvig…’