"Money is no worth to me,no, no, but ointments, herbs and potions are. I would, yes I would like something with similar properties to, to this, yes"
Toadstool shows her the ointment.
"Would buy materials for one and 2 that are complete. And do we have enough for antitoxin, for, for poison?
OOC - Toads is looking for similar things to the Koegothorns ointment i.e. healing and/or anti poison. He wants materials to make 1 health potion himself, 2 ready health potions and antitoxin if enough is left.
Rothgar listened to the heroes as they told him about their adventures (and misadventures).
"Well, I would have paid good money to see it with my own eyes." He said with a chuckle. "Me wife said that the baron was fit to be tied."
The blacksmith took the chain and hefted it in one meaty hand. He took a moment to inspect the links, and, liking what he found proceeded to help the adventurers out.
"The going rate in Havenford is ten percent commission." He began. He gestured to the chain in question. "You have 100gp worth of silver here ... I can go 90gp."
"It was quite the morning, to be sure. As for the chain, ninety gold seems like a fair price. You do have to make a living, after all. I accept your offer."
In the moments after his whole tirade, you can cut the tension within the room with a knife... and it'd still been soupy. When Ichep had stood up, immediately Balen's attention was on him. 'Did I **** things up?' was the main question on his mind. Anything, just anything, to bring down the tension would be fine. It was that 'Balen himself had been very close to dying' part that caught him off guard. His eyes gave Ichep a very shocked look of genuine concern. 'I did?' No wonder his shoulder had been aching. 'What the **** did I do yesterday?' He cursed out his past self for that. He knew himself too well. 'Balen, you stupid idiot.'
And with that, when the Baron spoke, Balen knew it wasn't going to end well. Though he almost felt pity for the man when he said he lost comrades as well, Balen felt his words were dripping with privilege and that only made him more mad. Condensing. That was the only way he could describe it. 'Are law?' 'Of nobility?' Hah! 'Beyond reproach?!!! Who gave you that title? With this Balen only seethed. He hated the idea that you can just be above someone else with nothing to earn it. That people can just say there of this status an another and somehow that held weight to their words. He believed in nothing. No titles were real to him. Kings, queens, princes, princesses, barons, any noblesse oblige- they were all just people. Nothing more and nothing less. But unfortunately their words held power to those who believed in them. And right now he knew he had ****ed up.
He could feel the spotlight on him as his back grew sweaty and the eyes of his companions seemed to burrowing into him. He had lost them the money and the ability to go into the dungeon. What a way to kill two birds with one stone except you weren't supposed to kill the birds, you fool. His fingernails dug into his skin even more than they already had been.
Then the Baron spoke to him personally. He opened his mouth a bit to explain himself but realized he was being shushed, and despite obliging he found it hard to bite his own tongue. He wanted nothing more than to kill this man. Go feral. Go stupid. Go just absolutely insane. He fantasized it every which way and that. Bite him. Kick him. CHOKE him. STAB him. He wished he could watch him drown.
He did not want to go do silently. They went on murdering yesterday and he felt no guilt about it (partially because of the amnesia) and yet with all eyes on him, he couldn't do it to this guy? So unfair. It was men like this who dove him insane. He knew if he said nothing the Baron would be able to go on power trips like his forever.
And the albino comment made his blood boil. Did they not know what he is? 'Do they- do they actually not know what I am?' It actually made him feel real sheepishly self-conscious for a moment of levity before it went all back to being angry. He was a changeling. And by the seas, he was proud of it! He could be anything and anyone he wanted. And he loved it. He was really ****ing hating this guy.
But the self-preservation instincts kicked in and the 'give me his tongue' threat felt all too real. So he held his mouth shut and took the emotional wounds to his pride. It all seemed a wrap anyways when Yaudara closed the conversation, like wrapped up nicely in a bow in a way he couldn't have. But before they were ejected by the guards, he placed (spilled) all the extra food he took on the table to give it back (defiantly). He didn't want them anymore. He wanted out. So went they were all escorted out and as Yaudara was nice enough to apologize on his behalf, Balen just gave 'why do you work for him' type looks to all the servants as he went on out.
Once finally outside, rather than a bigger insult, instead he said "I wish him a very horrible day." Then it was time to face his companions. He looked at them for about millisecond before he averted his gaze down. Yep nope, he messed up. He could sense it on this faces. He said nothing else as he walked away from them.
He shifted into a persona he had called 'Archie.' It was the only one that he had time to look through in his memory journal before they had went downstairs. 'Archie' was a tall tan elf (It gave him the extra height, but yet he still slouched today) with straight long black hair and green eyes. He was some sort of noble or something. Balen didn't have time to think it through. He took off his rogue cloak, shoved it into his bag, then walked into the market. He decided he needed time to just disappear for a while.
As Balen navigated the bustling marketplace, he found solace in being nondescript. Just another face in the crowd. He needed some time to clear his head.
One benefit of being nondescript ... was being able to hear snatches of conversation. Bits of rumors and town gossip. These were freely circulated around the marketplace and were exchanged just as readily as goods and services were.
Balen learned of a mysterious set of ruins nearby, the Thornwood Abbey. Said to be hidden in the heart of the nearby forest. Also said to contain a long-forgotten treasure of unimaginable wealth and power. The ruins were rumored to be guarded by the spectral apparition of Malvina, a malevolent priestess who once ruled over the abbey with an iron fist. Malvina's curse still lingers there, the rumor's held, trapping any who would dare to seek her hoard.
Balen also learned of some restlessness amongst the local goblin tribes. Usually quite unorganized, they have recently been called under the banner of a creature known as Grimgnaw, who has self styled themselves as the Goblin King. There have been some raids on nearby settlements and trade caravans that have been blamed on this new alliance. After these raids, Grimgnaw the Goblin King has amassed a horde of stolen riches and has been said to be marshaling his main forces in the vicinity of the Shadowfang Caverns.
Toadstool & Rinn Rinn is looking over the selection of gems that Mirabelle has motioned to as the gnome continues to discuss the transaction with Toadstool. He looks over his spellbook, taking a look at the most recent entry as he furrows his brow, noticing a lightness in his coin purse. He sighs a bit to himself but says to Rachael, "Well, it'll be an investment that we can get later then, since we seem to be a bit short. This incantation should be able help us with just about everything that comes our way...just is a bit expensive up front." He says this outloud, albeit quietly, often thinking aloud as he's contemplating a matter.
"Besides," he remarks to his furry familiar, just as Toadstool is finishing selling his gems, "I think we should probably look for someone who has a map of the area around Havenford. This is the frontier, after all, and I don't recall ever seeing a map of it among the collections of the Syndicate."
He finally resigns and says to Mirabelle, "You have a very impressive collection of gems and other mineral components. Perhaps you're a collector of such things? I think I know what I'm looking for now, though I must admit, I think I'm temporarily short on coin. I'm sure I'll be able to get it soon enough, though." The elf is clearly trying to hide the small embarrassment.
Rinn is surprised by the sudden kindness from this orc he's only met yesterday. He smiles though at him and says, with a tiny stammer, "Thank you, my friend. You're too kind to me. I really appreciate it." It definitely ingratiates the high elf wizard to Toadstool, and the elf says, "I'm so glad to have met someone as kind as you in Havenford, and I hope I can serve you and your friends well." Rachael purrs and gives a thankful rub on the orc's leg, she rather enjoying this person despite him being so large that he could easily squish her.
As the gold is finishing being exchanged and items received, Rinn says to Toadstool , "Thank you so much, again. It means a lot." Changing topics, he says, "I think we should look for a cartographer, or at least someone who has maps of the areas around this town. That would be helpful to figure out where we wish to go next." Looking at the gnome merchant, he asks her, "By chance, do you know where we could acquire a good map?"
Toadstool and Rinn Also, as Toadstool had looked over to Rinn, he had noticed that the book that he was looking at was of a very beautiful sort. It's bound in leather that has a rather intricate carving of a forest scene, with trees, vines, flowers, and a doe. The pages are adorned with arcane script (a cypher in the style of Sylvan, Draconic, and Elvish), along with nature-inspired ink drawings. This is certainly someone who is deeply inspired by nature.
Being someone else? It felt new, exciting. Invigorating... cold? Despite giving this persona a face, a backstory, and an identity, he felt empty instead. Hollow. He felt like he almost wanted to cry, but he wasn't going to do that. No. That would be stupid. All eyes on you. In a busy marketplace. No. Balen had looked through the pages in his journal as he moved about to see that he had previously given this identity pages filled with pages of a lengthy backstory (Dang was he like writing a novel or something?). What was he using this face before? He didn't know. He hadn't written it down. 'Smart move.'
He had come to notice that gossip here... spreads fast. Like scary fast. The changeling wondered about his own notoriety. Would be fun to just surprise somebody and just change out of this 'costume,' but, then again, he would just lose what he had been coming here for. And that was the quiet. At least as quiet that a marketplace could be. A loud, nondescript fast-talking scene of bustling everything everywhere all at once, which he did like.
He thought about what he had learned here today. Something 'bout a curse. And goblins. Eh, goblins. They were okay at best. He honestly had nothing against them, just like any other race. He didn't really care. Some of the crew on his ship were goblins, though the majority weren't. Mostly humans, 5 or 6 elves and dwarfs and whatnots, and a lot of live various cargo... like him. He thought about inquiring for more information from some of the shopkeepers or visitors, but didn't really feel like he had a voice today. But, Balen realized, he had to bring something back to the guys if he were to have to get on their good side- well at least as good as he was gonna get. Man he really messed up. He couldn't help but notice his own slouching but did nothing to correct it.
Somewhere along the hustle and bustle he spotted a library-like place by the town square. 'Huh, nice.' Maybe he could go for a quick read. Maybe a book on where in the world he was. At this point he hated Havenford. Yet still he stayed, compelled to to this place for reasons he couldn't understand... was it the guilt for his fellow companions? He didn't want to think about it.
He didn't know if this was the type of place that you would have to knock or could just walk in. So he just went right on in. "Hello?" He asked by the doorway. Ew, this new voice was squeaky. This was the first time he had tested it out. Why did he choose this one? With a quick change of vocal chords, he repeated it again in something better, deeper. "Hello? Anybody here?"
„Acceptable“, Ichep agreed to the trade. The dwarven smith had been delightful acquaintance of the best kind - the brief kind. Once they left the forge, Ichep glanced a bit awkwardly at Yaudara. „So... what do you plan to do with the rest of the day?“ It was still too early to meet with the rest of the party back at the inn. What would a paladin spend his freetime with? Praying? Ichep had no idea. He didn't even know what the paladin was, same as that shapechanger but he found it too rude to ask. „I'm going to search for some sort of the library“, Ichep announced and then did precisely that. It took him some time too since he did not feel like asking strangers for the way. When he finally laid eyes on the Fairweather library near the town quare, he barely noticed a tall elf entering it before him.
Yaudara considered the cleric's question for a few moments. "I think I'll explore Havenford. I'd just arrived when the sinkhole opened up, so I don't really know much about the place, except for the position and attitude of the baron."
After hearing of Ichep's intentions, he responded, "I think I'll leave you to explore the library on your own, friend. I'm...not much of a reader. But I'll look forward to hearing what you discovered there when we reconvene this evening. Good day to you."
With that, the paladin will head off into the town, looking for a market square, or other congregation of people, and listening for stories as he roams.
Upon entering the Fairweather Library, the adventurers were greeted by the scent of old parchment and the sight of towering bookshelves. Dusty tomes and scrolls fill this space, illuminated by beams of sunlight filtering through stained glass windows. A reading nook with plush armchairs beckoned from a crackling fireplace. A desk was nearby, piled high with parchment scrolls.
Behind the desk stood Professor Archibald Fairweather, curator of the library, his keen eyes scanning the room. Dressed in threadbare robes and spectacles, he exuded scholarly authority.
"Hello," He said, peering over his glasses. "What can I help you with this fine morning?"
The paladin spent some time in the market square with the townsfolk. He engaged in conversations far and wide. When he could, he steered the conversation toward the threats to be found outside the relative safety that Havenford provided.
"They say that on moonlit nights, the wailing of tormented spirits can be heard echoing from the ruins of Thornwood Abbey, lamenting their tragic fate at the hands of the malevolent priestess, Malvina. On nights where the moon is full ... that place is terrifying."
The smell of old parchment and the wood of bookshelves was something Balen didn't expect he would find comforting. The library's vastness reminded him of the wooden hull of his ship, and the sunlight beams and stained glass felt like a lullaby drifting him off to the times of moonlit nights of scattered maps, dusty books, and charts of the captain's quarters. But it was the back-and-forth he felt with this new authority figure that made it sink and painted a different picture in his mind, one that really reminded him of the captain's quarters without the cloudy, nostalgic-like trip.
But it was more the surprise of seeing his newfound companions that woke him out of this daze. It was... Ichep, right? He finally was able to get the real name down and added it in his journal while he was in the market instead of going with the much longer moniker he wrote down the day before. Very long names just didn't go well in his head. That's exactly why he couldn't quite place the one from the wizard guy from earlier who, now, had also apparently come to the library.
He also had trouble really remembering if these were the exact people he was thinking of (faces are so hard to distinguish), so tried to avert his gaze away from them. Were they coming to talk to him? No, he was in disguise, remember? 'Right, right,' He thought. He looked at his own hands for a while and wondered how long could he play this out.
Balen approached Professor Fairweather apprehensively, hands wringing in both for show and his own actual nerves. "Hello, good sir. I'm uh- a bit new in town..." He gave this persona a little stutter. "I've- I've been wanting to research this place for such- such a long time. My name is Archie. I'm, uh, a traveling scholar. I've always admired the tales and mystery of towns like this." He did that little nerd thing where he, like, tried to push up his glasses from falling from the rim of his nose, but (oopsie) he didn't have any actual eyewear and almost poked his own eye. He felt a little silly. "I've heard quite a lot of this place since my time here. My, it's such a beautiful frontier country. But, um, do you know anything about the priestess spirit Malvina? Maybe or the ruins beside this town? I've heard there's a curse... and treasure." He wondered where he was going with this persona and if he came off to money-hungry.
"I do-don't really know if I believe all that but I've heard there's more to it than what rumors may say... but no one wants to say more."
"I've also heard..." Wait, he forgot. "...There was goblins..." He fumbled around with his bag before taking out his journal and skimmed through the pages until he got what he came to find. "A goblin king? Grimgnaw?" He spent too much time thinking about those dumb goblins that somehow he actually forgot about them. How does that happen? "I heard they were getting more organized and raiding towns. So sad, those poor goblins. Under a cruel iron fist."
"Do you know anything about these creatures or have any maps that could help me... for me to help them? I- I would like to know more than they are willing to tell me..." He ended this sentence hesitantly, not sure where to go. Who was the 'they' he had mentioned. He didn't know. Maybe they were like his supposed bosses or imaginary higher-ups? But it hoped it gave him enough creditably to go forward. Since breakfast, he was really having an off day.
The air was full of dust and old parchment. Ichep smiled as it reminded him of the dusty tomb/library - it was complicated - where he was raised. He felt so much better surrounded by scroll and books than... people. And so it was fate that some stuttering mess of an elf had to be there the exact same time. Ichep raised both eye brows while the elf spoke. Not only did he speak weirdly and couldn't seem to hold his hands still but he was also tall and that annoyed Ichep. 'Stupid tall elves are everywhere.' He made a mental notes about the rumors. A spirit was very intriguing, but he doubted he would be able to convince the others. 'By the gods, please no goblins.' They couldn't even withstand spiders how would they fare against more intelligent foes?
„You want to... help goblins? Why?“ Ichep asked flatly. Then he turned to the librarian: „Good day, I'm a wandering scholar interested in the study of necromancy. Is there anything relating to the subject in your collection? Any significant occurrences in the region's past may also be of interest. They might be worth investigating. Places remember things after all...“ The tale of this dead priestess might even be enough to satisfy his curiosity for now which maybe meant that it wasn't all bad that the elf was here.
The professor waved a hand to indicate the thousands of books that filled his library.
"Yes, yes." He said. "I have books a'plenty. You are welcome to peruse them at your leisure ... for a small remittance, of course."
"Maps I have as well."
The professor pulled out and carefully unfurled an old, weathered map and placed it upon the sturdy wooden table before the heroes. He traced his fingers with reverence along the faded ink lines and ancient symbols that conveyed a wealth of information.
"I could part with this one for say, twenty-five gold coins."
OOC — The map is good for twenty miles or so in all directions and will eliminate any chance of becoming lost and allow for any survival checks made within that radius to be made with advantage.
Rinn and Rachael had followed Ichep to Archibald Library, having ran into each other on the way. The elf wizard is quite amused by how Ichep regards Rachael, and certainly the small celestial tressym adores the attention.
The experience of entering the library is, like the others, a comforting one, the tomes and scrolls that line the shelves being a welcome sight on the frontier; while he thrived on the road, nothing quite beats a good library.
The talk of Ichep brings him to attention, hearing the mention of a map and something about a Goblin King from the disguised Balen. How Ichep regards the elf makes him think that the cleric must be acquainted, Rinn not noticing hat it's actually Balen in disguise.
As the other two are taking a look at the offered items, Rinn introduces himself.
"My name is Eradin Siannodel, of the Arcane Syndicate," explains the elf, "though, if it's easier, you may call me Rinn. I come here, similar to the other of my elfish kin, for a map of the surrounding area." He reaches into his coin purse and finds that he only has about 13 gold coins left, he sighing a bit as he's just short of being able to get it.
'Nooo.' Balen thought as he realized both the tiefling priest and the elf wizard were coming to ask the same professor the same question. As the two got closer, Balen wanted to tip-toe his way out of there, but he was stuck. Stuck in this dumb body and this dumb stupid moment. "Uh..." Balen felt that his eyes were darting around everywhere but straight at Ichep when he was asked the golbin question. He hated it when he didn't have colorless pupils. He didn't like being so easily readable. "I don't know.... 'Cuz I feel bad for them?"Great, he dropped the accent. It was too annoying of one anyways.
"Looks like we're looking for the same thing." He looked over to Eradin ('oh so that's his name!... still too long though') and then his wallet. He internally snicked at being considered a fellow elf. 'Glad the disguise worked.' A little bit reveling in this deviousness, he reached out to shake Rinn's hand. "It seems I'm short on coin as well." The changeling wished he had a better coin purse to match with the costume, especially now that he instead had to just fumble through his bag to show he got only 8 gold coins, "We can share, perhaps. Each chip in? We're both after the same type of knowledge, aren't we?"
Ichep squinted his eyes and leaned forward, mere inches from the stranger - the disguised Balen - away. „Do I know you?“ Something about him was quite familiar. But when did he meet an elf memorable enough to... OH NO. Not that one. He couldn't be that one, right? „Wait, are you the elf I-“ Ichep looked at him in horror, then he calmed down again. „No, of course not. You would remember me for sure, no doubt about that.“
'Pff comes to buy a map but doesn't have enough money' Ichep thought as he opened his gold pouch, realising he didn't have enough money. 'Uh... Ah, the gods bless Yaudara or Torm or... wait that- Nevermind.' He produced the gold Yaudara had entrusted with him for exactly such a purpose. „Yes, sounds good. I can pay the lion's share.“ Wait, wasn't Torm's sacred animal a lion as well? Did that count as a pun? Hopefully not. Ichep did not make puns. „I suppose you are coming with us then? Otherwise you'll get little use out of your portion of the map.“
Toadstool and Rinn
MIrabelle made a show about fussing over her guests and seated them over by one of her work tables.
"Rubies, you say?" She said. "Yes, yes, I can take these off of your hands."
From one of her numerous workshop drawers, she produced a strange, lensed device and then took a moment to examine the gems.
"Diamonds, yes." She muttered. "I have some diamonds for you as well."
OOC — Selling back 10 of the 25gp gems will net you 225gp (250gp less the 10% exchange rate). After buying a 50gp diamond, you will have 175gp.
"Money is no worth to me,no, no, but ointments, herbs and potions are. I would, yes I would like something with similar properties to, to this, yes"
Toadstool shows her the ointment.
"Would buy materials for one and 2 that are complete. And do we have enough for antitoxin, for, for poison?
OOC - Toads is looking for similar things to the Koegothorns ointment i.e. healing and/or anti poison. He wants materials to make 1 health potion himself, 2 ready health potions and antitoxin if enough is left.
"It was quite the morning, to be sure. As for the chain, ninety gold seems like a fair price. You do have to make a living, after all. I accept your offer."
In the moments after his whole tirade, you can cut the tension within the room with a knife... and it'd still been soupy. When Ichep had stood up, immediately Balen's attention was on him. 'Did I **** things up?' was the main question on his mind. Anything, just anything, to bring down the tension would be fine. It was that 'Balen himself had been very close to dying' part that caught him off guard. His eyes gave Ichep a very shocked look of genuine concern. 'I did?' No wonder his shoulder had been aching. 'What the **** did I do yesterday?' He cursed out his past self for that. He knew himself too well. 'Balen, you stupid idiot.'
And with that, when the Baron spoke, Balen knew it wasn't going to end well. Though he almost felt pity for the man when he said he lost comrades as well, Balen felt his words were dripping with privilege and that only made him more mad. Condensing. That was the only way he could describe it. 'Are law?' 'Of nobility?' Hah! 'Beyond reproach?!!! Who gave you that title? With this Balen only seethed. He hated the idea that you can just be above someone else with nothing to earn it. That people can just say there of this status an another and somehow that held weight to their words. He believed in nothing. No titles were real to him. Kings, queens, princes, princesses, barons, any noblesse oblige- they were all just people. Nothing more and nothing less. But unfortunately their words held power to those who believed in them. And right now he knew he had ****ed up.
He could feel the spotlight on him as his back grew sweaty and the eyes of his companions seemed to burrowing into him. He had lost them the money and the ability to go into the dungeon. What a way to kill two birds with one stone except you weren't supposed to kill the birds, you fool. His fingernails dug into his skin even more than they already had been.
Then the Baron spoke to him personally. He opened his mouth a bit to explain himself but realized he was being shushed, and despite obliging he found it hard to bite his own tongue. He wanted nothing more than to kill this man. Go feral. Go stupid. Go just absolutely insane. He fantasized it every which way and that. Bite him. Kick him. CHOKE him. STAB him. He wished he could watch him drown.
He did not want to go do silently. They went on murdering yesterday and he felt no guilt about it (partially because of the amnesia) and yet with all eyes on him, he couldn't do it to this guy? So unfair. It was men like this who dove him insane. He knew if he said nothing the Baron would be able to go on power trips like his forever.
And the albino comment made his blood boil. Did they not know what he is? 'Do they- do they actually not know what I am?' It actually made him feel real sheepishly self-conscious for a moment of levity before it went all back to being angry. He was a changeling. And by the seas, he was proud of it! He could be anything and anyone he wanted. And he loved it. He was really ****ing hating this guy.
But the self-preservation instincts kicked in and the 'give me his tongue' threat felt all too real. So he held his mouth shut and took the emotional wounds to his pride. It all seemed a wrap anyways when Yaudara closed the conversation, like wrapped up nicely in a bow in a way he couldn't have. But before they were ejected by the guards, he placed (spilled) all the extra food he took on the table to give it back (defiantly). He didn't want them anymore. He wanted out. So went they were all escorted out and as Yaudara was nice enough to apologize on his behalf, Balen just gave 'why do you work for him' type looks to all the servants as he went on out.
Once finally outside, rather than a bigger insult, instead he said "I wish him a very horrible day." Then it was time to face his companions. He looked at them for about millisecond before he averted his gaze down. Yep nope, he messed up. He could sense it on this faces. He said nothing else as he walked away from them.
He shifted into a persona he had called 'Archie.' It was the only one that he had time to look through in his memory journal before they had went downstairs. 'Archie' was a tall tan elf (It gave him the extra height, but yet he still slouched today) with straight long black hair and green eyes. He was some sort of noble or something. Balen didn't have time to think it through. He took off his rogue cloak, shoved it into his bag, then walked into the market. He decided he needed time to just disappear for a while.
<---- me irl slow reader, even slower writer easily jumpy thanks for being patient
DM: Drakkenheim Mind and Matter + Blood Secrets + What's in the Here and Now;
Player: Dragonlance
Balen
As Balen navigated the bustling marketplace, he found solace in being nondescript. Just another face in the crowd. He needed some time to clear his head.
One benefit of being nondescript ... was being able to hear snatches of conversation. Bits of rumors and town gossip. These were freely circulated around the marketplace and were exchanged just as readily as goods and services were.
Balen learned of a mysterious set of ruins nearby, the Thornwood Abbey. Said to be hidden in the heart of the nearby forest. Also said to contain a long-forgotten treasure of unimaginable wealth and power. The ruins were rumored to be guarded by the spectral apparition of Malvina, a malevolent priestess who once ruled over the abbey with an iron fist. Malvina's curse still lingers there, the rumor's held, trapping any who would dare to seek her hoard.
Balen also learned of some restlessness amongst the local goblin tribes. Usually quite unorganized, they have recently been called under the banner of a creature known as Grimgnaw, who has self styled themselves as the Goblin King. There have been some raids on nearby settlements and trade caravans that have been blamed on this new alliance. After these raids, Grimgnaw the Goblin King has amassed a horde of stolen riches and has been said to be marshaling his main forces in the vicinity of the Shadowfang Caverns.
Toadstool & Rinn
Rinn is looking over the selection of gems that Mirabelle has motioned to as the gnome continues to discuss the transaction with Toadstool. He looks over his spellbook, taking a look at the most recent entry as he furrows his brow, noticing a lightness in his coin purse. He sighs a bit to himself but says to Rachael, "Well, it'll be an investment that we can get later then, since we seem to be a bit short. This incantation should be able help us with just about everything that comes our way...just is a bit expensive up front." He says this outloud, albeit quietly, often thinking aloud as he's contemplating a matter.
"Besides," he remarks to his furry familiar, just as Toadstool is finishing selling his gems, "I think we should probably look for someone who has a map of the area around Havenford. This is the frontier, after all, and I don't recall ever seeing a map of it among the collections of the Syndicate."
He finally resigns and says to Mirabelle, "You have a very impressive collection of gems and other mineral components. Perhaps you're a collector of such things? I think I know what I'm looking for now, though I must admit, I think I'm temporarily short on coin. I'm sure I'll be able to get it soon enough, though." The elf is clearly trying to hide the small embarrassment.
Toadstool and Rinn
"I, I will buy you that diamond, yes, I just have enough left for diamond"
Toadstool and Rinn
Rinn is surprised by the sudden kindness from this orc he's only met yesterday. He smiles though at him and says, with a tiny stammer, "Thank you, my friend. You're too kind to me. I really appreciate it." It definitely ingratiates the high elf wizard to Toadstool, and the elf says, "I'm so glad to have met someone as kind as you in Havenford, and I hope I can serve you and your friends well." Rachael purrs and gives a thankful rub on the orc's leg, she rather enjoying this person despite him being so large that he could easily squish her.
As the gold is finishing being exchanged and items received, Rinn says to Toadstool , "Thank you so much, again. It means a lot." Changing topics, he says, "I think we should look for a cartographer, or at least someone who has maps of the areas around this town. That would be helpful to figure out where we wish to go next." Looking at the gnome merchant, he asks her, "By chance, do you know where we could acquire a good map?"
Toadstool and Rinn
Also, as Toadstool had looked over to Rinn, he had noticed that the book that he was looking at was of a very beautiful sort. It's bound in leather that has a rather intricate carving of a forest scene, with trees, vines, flowers, and a doe. The pages are adorned with arcane script (a cypher in the style of Sylvan, Draconic, and Elvish), along with nature-inspired ink drawings. This is certainly someone who is deeply inspired by nature.
Balen
Being someone else? It felt new, exciting. Invigorating... cold? Despite giving this persona a face, a backstory, and an identity, he felt empty instead. Hollow. He felt like he almost wanted to cry, but he wasn't going to do that. No. That would be stupid. All eyes on you. In a busy marketplace. No. Balen had looked through the pages in his journal as he moved about to see that he had previously given this identity pages filled with pages of a lengthy backstory (Dang was he like writing a novel or something?). What was he using this face before? He didn't know. He hadn't written it down. 'Smart move.'
He had come to notice that gossip here... spreads fast. Like scary fast. The changeling wondered about his own notoriety. Would be fun to just surprise somebody and just change out of this 'costume,' but, then again, he would just lose what he had been coming here for. And that was the quiet. At least as quiet that a marketplace could be. A loud, nondescript fast-talking scene of bustling everything everywhere all at once, which he did like.
He thought about what he had learned here today. Something 'bout a curse. And goblins. Eh, goblins. They were okay at best. He honestly had nothing against them, just like any other race. He didn't really care. Some of the crew on his ship were goblins, though the majority weren't. Mostly humans, 5 or 6 elves and dwarfs and whatnots, and a lot of live various cargo... like him. He thought about inquiring for more information from some of the shopkeepers or visitors, but didn't really feel like he had a voice today. But, Balen realized, he had to bring something back to the guys if he were to have to get on their good side- well at least as good as he was gonna get. Man he really messed up. He couldn't help but notice his own slouching but did nothing to correct it.
Somewhere along the hustle and bustle he spotted a library-like place by the town square. 'Huh, nice.' Maybe he could go for a quick read. Maybe a book on where in the world he was. At this point he hated Havenford. Yet still he stayed, compelled to to this place for reasons he couldn't understand... was it the guilt for his fellow companions? He didn't want to think about it.
He didn't know if this was the type of place that you would have to knock or could just walk in. So he just went right on in. "Hello?" He asked by the doorway. Ew, this new voice was squeaky. This was the first time he had tested it out. Why did he choose this one? With a quick change of vocal chords, he repeated it again in something better, deeper. "Hello? Anybody here?"
<---- me irl slow reader, even slower writer easily jumpy thanks for being patient
DM: Drakkenheim Mind and Matter + Blood Secrets + What's in the Here and Now;
Player: Dragonlance
„Acceptable“, Ichep agreed to the trade. The dwarven smith had been delightful acquaintance of the best kind - the brief kind. Once they left the forge, Ichep glanced a bit awkwardly at Yaudara. „So... what do you plan to do with the rest of the day?“ It was still too early to meet with the rest of the party back at the inn. What would a paladin spend his freetime with? Praying? Ichep had no idea. He didn't even know what the paladin was, same as that shapechanger but he found it too rude to ask. „I'm going to search for some sort of the library“, Ichep announced and then did precisely that. It took him some time too since he did not feel like asking strangers for the way. When he finally laid eyes on the Fairweather library near the town quare, he barely noticed a tall elf entering it before him.
Yaudara considered the cleric's question for a few moments. "I think I'll explore Havenford. I'd just arrived when the sinkhole opened up, so I don't really know much about the place, except for the position and attitude of the baron."
After hearing of Ichep's intentions, he responded, "I think I'll leave you to explore the library on your own, friend. I'm...not much of a reader. But I'll look forward to hearing what you discovered there when we reconvene this evening. Good day to you."
With that, the paladin will head off into the town, looking for a market square, or other congregation of people, and listening for stories as he roams.
Balen, Ichep & Rinn
Upon entering the Fairweather Library, the adventurers were greeted by the scent of old parchment and the sight of towering bookshelves. Dusty tomes and scrolls fill this space, illuminated by beams of sunlight filtering through stained glass windows. A reading nook with plush armchairs beckoned from a crackling fireplace. A desk was nearby, piled high with parchment scrolls.
Behind the desk stood Professor Archibald Fairweather, curator of the library, his keen eyes scanning the room. Dressed in threadbare robes and spectacles, he exuded scholarly authority.
"Hello," He said, peering over his glasses. "What can I help you with this fine morning?"
Yaudara
The paladin spent some time in the market square with the townsfolk. He engaged in conversations far and wide. When he could, he steered the conversation toward the threats to be found outside the relative safety that Havenford provided.
"They say that on moonlit nights, the wailing of tormented spirits can be heard echoing from the ruins of Thornwood Abbey, lamenting their tragic fate at the hands of the malevolent priestess, Malvina. On nights where the moon is full ... that place is terrifying."
The smell of old parchment and the wood of bookshelves was something Balen didn't expect he would find comforting. The library's vastness reminded him of the wooden hull of his ship, and the sunlight beams and stained glass felt like a lullaby drifting him off to the times of moonlit nights of scattered maps, dusty books, and charts of the captain's quarters. But it was the back-and-forth he felt with this new authority figure that made it sink and painted a different picture in his mind, one that really reminded him of the captain's quarters without the cloudy, nostalgic-like trip.
But it was more the surprise of seeing his newfound companions that woke him out of this daze. It was... Ichep, right? He finally was able to get the real name down and added it in his journal while he was in the market instead of going with the much longer moniker he wrote down the day before. Very long names just didn't go well in his head. That's exactly why he couldn't quite place the one from the wizard guy from earlier who, now, had also apparently come to the library.
He also had trouble really remembering if these were the exact people he was thinking of (faces are so hard to distinguish), so tried to avert his gaze away from them. Were they coming to talk to him? No, he was in disguise, remember? 'Right, right,' He thought. He looked at his own hands for a while and wondered how long could he play this out.
Balen approached Professor Fairweather apprehensively, hands wringing in both for show and his own actual nerves. "Hello, good sir. I'm uh- a bit new in town..." He gave this persona a little stutter. "I've- I've been wanting to research this place for such- such a long time. My name is Archie. I'm, uh, a traveling scholar. I've always admired the tales and mystery of towns like this." He did that little nerd thing where he, like, tried to push up his glasses from falling from the rim of his nose, but (oopsie) he didn't have any actual eyewear and almost poked his own eye. He felt a little silly. "I've heard quite a lot of this place since my time here. My, it's such a beautiful frontier country. But, um, do you know anything about the priestess spirit Malvina? Maybe or the ruins beside this town? I've heard there's a curse... and treasure." He wondered where he was going with this persona and if he came off to money-hungry.
"I do-don't really know if I believe all that but I've heard there's more to it than what rumors may say... but no one wants to say more."
"I've also heard..." Wait, he forgot. "...There was goblins..." He fumbled around with his bag before taking out his journal and skimmed through the pages until he got what he came to find. "A goblin king? Grimgnaw?" He spent too much time thinking about those dumb goblins that somehow he actually forgot about them. How does that happen? "I heard they were getting more organized and raiding towns. So sad, those poor goblins. Under a cruel iron fist."
"Do you know anything about these creatures or have any maps that could help me... for me to help them? I- I would like to know more than they are willing to tell me..." He ended this sentence hesitantly, not sure where to go. Who was the 'they' he had mentioned. He didn't know. Maybe they were like his supposed bosses or imaginary higher-ups? But it hoped it gave him enough creditably to go forward. Since breakfast, he was really having an off day.
((Persuasion: Check: 12 + 4 =16))
<---- me irl slow reader, even slower writer easily jumpy thanks for being patient
DM: Drakkenheim Mind and Matter + Blood Secrets + What's in the Here and Now;
Player: Dragonlance
The air was full of dust and old parchment. Ichep smiled as it reminded him of the dusty tomb/library - it was complicated - where he was raised. He felt so much better surrounded by scroll and books than... people. And so it was fate that some stuttering mess of an elf had to be there the exact same time. Ichep raised both eye brows while the elf spoke. Not only did he speak weirdly and couldn't seem to hold his hands still but he was also tall and that annoyed Ichep. 'Stupid tall elves are everywhere.' He made a mental notes about the rumors. A spirit was very intriguing, but he doubted he would be able to convince the others. 'By the gods, please no goblins.' They couldn't even withstand spiders how would they fare against more intelligent foes?
„You want to... help goblins? Why?“ Ichep asked flatly. Then he turned to the librarian: „Good day, I'm a wandering scholar interested in the study of necromancy. Is there anything relating to the subject in your collection? Any significant occurrences in the region's past may also be of interest. They might be worth investigating. Places remember things after all...“ The tale of this dead priestess might even be enough to satisfy his curiosity for now which maybe meant that it wasn't all bad that the elf was here.
The professor waved a hand to indicate the thousands of books that filled his library.
"Yes, yes." He said. "I have books a'plenty. You are welcome to peruse them at your leisure ... for a small remittance, of course."
"Maps I have as well."
The professor pulled out and carefully unfurled an old, weathered map and placed it upon the sturdy wooden table before the heroes. He traced his fingers with reverence along the faded ink lines and ancient symbols that conveyed a wealth of information.
"I could part with this one for say, twenty-five gold coins."
OOC — The map is good for twenty miles or so in all directions and will eliminate any chance of becoming lost and allow for any survival checks made within that radius to be made with advantage.
Rinn and Rachael had followed Ichep to Archibald Library, having ran into each other on the way. The elf wizard is quite amused by how Ichep regards Rachael, and certainly the small celestial tressym adores the attention.
The experience of entering the library is, like the others, a comforting one, the tomes and scrolls that line the shelves being a welcome sight on the frontier; while he thrived on the road, nothing quite beats a good library.
The talk of Ichep brings him to attention, hearing the mention of a map and something about a Goblin King from the disguised Balen. How Ichep regards the elf makes him think that the cleric must be acquainted, Rinn not noticing hat it's actually Balen in disguise.
As the other two are taking a look at the offered items, Rinn introduces himself.
"My name is Eradin Siannodel, of the Arcane Syndicate," explains the elf, "though, if it's easier, you may call me Rinn. I come here, similar to the other of my elfish kin, for a map of the surrounding area." He reaches into his coin purse and finds that he only has about 13 gold coins left, he sighing a bit as he's just short of being able to get it.
'Nooo.' Balen thought as he realized both the tiefling priest and the elf wizard were coming to ask the same professor the same question. As the two got closer, Balen wanted to tip-toe his way out of there, but he was stuck. Stuck in this dumb body and this dumb stupid moment. "Uh..." Balen felt that his eyes were darting around everywhere but straight at Ichep when he was asked the golbin question. He hated it when he didn't have colorless pupils. He didn't like being so easily readable. "I don't know.... 'Cuz I feel bad for them?" Great, he dropped the accent. It was too annoying of one anyways.
"Looks like we're looking for the same thing." He looked over to Eradin ('oh so that's his name!... still too long though') and then his wallet. He internally snicked at being considered a fellow elf. 'Glad the disguise worked.' A little bit reveling in this deviousness, he reached out to shake Rinn's hand. "It seems I'm short on coin as well." The changeling wished he had a better coin purse to match with the costume, especially now that he instead had to just fumble through his bag to show he got only 8 gold coins, "We can share, perhaps. Each chip in? We're both after the same type of knowledge, aren't we?"
((OOC: However we want to pay is good with me!))
<---- me irl slow reader, even slower writer easily jumpy thanks for being patient
DM: Drakkenheim Mind and Matter + Blood Secrets + What's in the Here and Now;
Player: Dragonlance
Ichep squinted his eyes and leaned forward, mere inches from the stranger - the disguised Balen - away. „Do I know you?“ Something about him was quite familiar. But when did he meet an elf memorable enough to... OH NO. Not that one. He couldn't be that one, right? „Wait, are you the elf I-“ Ichep looked at him in horror, then he calmed down again. „No, of course not. You would remember me for sure, no doubt about that.“
'Pff comes to buy a map but doesn't have enough money' Ichep thought as he opened his gold pouch, realising he didn't have enough money. 'Uh... Ah, the gods bless Yaudara or Torm or... wait that- Nevermind.' He produced the gold Yaudara had entrusted with him for exactly such a purpose. „Yes, sounds good. I can pay the lion's share.“ Wait, wasn't Torm's sacred animal a lion as well? Did that count as a pun? Hopefully not. Ichep did not make puns. „I suppose you are coming with us then? Otherwise you'll get little use out of your portion of the map.“