Cryovain watches Gudrune's ready retreat. She does not flee. She looks like a small giant, but he sniffs and she smells like a dwarf. She flatters him, but he is no blue dragon. He has been fooled by talkers before.
His voice is the cracking of thin ice over deep, chill water. It is the snap of small bones against sword-like teeth. It is loud, and even from across the field, all can hear it.
"When a creature has the misfortune of crossing my path, I ask myself two questions. Am I hungry now? Will I be hungry later?"
Cryovain takes steps towards Gudrune and his eyes glimmer. "See you, later."
The dragon turns, takes up the spider it has killed, and in a hurricane of wings takes flight towards the mountains.
Combat is/can be finished. There are goblins that have not reached the tree line. There is a spider up the tree that will remain up there until you all leave.
The aasimar has reached Sildar who seems to recognise him.
Capone speaks softly enough that only Gudrune can hear him, in fact the message guarantees just that. "I'm worried about the Aasimar; his mind seems influenced by something else. Where are the other adventurers? They might be working for Glassstaff's wizard ally." Then, audibly, unconstrained by magics, "That was delightful! What a splendid battle! You're a mighty warrior!" something whirs internally and then softly chimes inside of him.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
I'm probably laughing.
It is apparently so hard to program Aberrant Mind and Clockwork Soul spell-swapping into dndbeyond they had to remake the game without it rather than implement it.
Lorken watches the dragon's departure wordlessly, then, with a sigh, he lets his rage subside. Flicking bits of spider gore off his axe, he starts to lope after Alaina.
Jayson continues after the Aasimarian, glancing back to ensure the Dragon didn't want more food. He sighs thankful the beast takes flight and seems to be moving away from the rest of the party.
Jayson will join Alaina, as well hoping to join any conversation with the Aasimarian and Sildar.
Jayson says to Sildar and the Aasimarian, "Whew that was a close call back there. I'm Jayson. My new friends are glad we were able to provide some assistance. Can we help here?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Signature
Levi Flint - DM - Mad Mage; Korvin - DM - Tyranny of Dragons; Player Lucan - The One Breath, Player Gildor Surion - Balder's Gate-Decent;
Jayson and Alaina are the first to the outskirts of Phandalin, as the other adventurers turn to join them. The bodies they will leave for the world or the town laborers to reclaim in their differing ways in their own time.
They reach the reunion of Sildarand the aasimar in time to catch the end of the opening.
"Faith," says Sildar, "Faith Fal'Man, are my eyes deceiving me? You have been gone so long, and why are you alone. Where isMatheris, where are the others of your party? What has happened. Where is Gundren?"
"Gundren," says this Faith. "Alas,Gundren. Alas the Wave Echo Cave and the Doom of the Rockseekers. Let me share this ill news only once.Sister Garaele, let me tell you both, you both deserve to know."
"I owe you my life, ask what you want, and if it gives me a few moments more without the news I fear to hear, then let that be the depth and reach of the cowardice that I enjoy today." Sildar slips a potion vial filled with a red elixir with bubbles of light rising to the surface within it. "I have but one of these, but I think you need it more than I do."
Jayson introduces himself before Faith and the constabulary begin the walk back to the town common. Faith takes his forearm in a firm shake, meeting his eye. "Well metJayson. By the pin you wear we work for a noble order, both. Well met, and thank you for your aid, and the aid of your fellow adventurers. I fear I would be dead if not for your quick spell work.
"Can you aid me? I know not how, but I do not doubt the powers above. For all the evil I have found, perhaps you are the good sent to redress it. Follow me to our ally in the order, and let us see what she and her divine wisdoms might afford us all, and what we must all do next."
Sildar, Faith and most of the Constabulary are returning towards the town common, Iarno's cell, to report on the battle and find out what happened to the adventurers who went to the mine before you had all met.
Is there anything you want to ask before you return to the town common and find out that everything is fine, and nothing has changed, and all is as you left it and definitely no more distractions before the mine??
Gudrune nods at Capone's warnings. "That is unsettling,"she whispers back. "Warn the others, if you can. We will keep watch. Give a sign if we must intervene." She kicks off the ground and drifts away from the bloodstained scene.
She nudges Lorken as she glides past. "Cryovain will return and we will meet him, but not today. It will be a battle long, bitter, and cold... let us prepare for his coming." After a pause... "Would it cheer you up to know he has a mate? Isendraug. Just as nasty. What do you think of that? Lorken, Slayer of Dragons. Sounds pretty good to me.” At the words of Faith, she looks to the Sword Mountains, whispers a prayer of protection for the Rockseekers, her old friends… She will follow the others into town.
The light snow takes longer to slow than to start, but it is reduced to only the errant flake here and there by the time you leave the ruined stone of east Phandalin behind and return to the living, frontier town.
It is not as you left it. You immediately spot the cleric of Tymora tending to an injured woman with a bloody hand and fewer finger than when she woke. The town master is on the Townhall’s steps, talking to several well-armored folk with grimaces on their faith. A drow adventurer stands behind him silently.
Many village folk are picking through broken pieces of wood and glass scattered across the common. The server who brought you food earlier is scrubbing red-brown mud from the street, and her eyes show she has recently cried.
However, most obviously, the cage that held the imprisoned wizard is overturned. It lies broken on the ground. Of the prisoner there is no sign.
Seeing such suffering, Broma immediately begins stabilizing the nearest wounded. Such compounded pain and anguish – one would expect disgust or an emphatic melancholy at sight of such innate suffering. Instead, the scientist feels only joy at the situation at hand. He now has new subjects with which to study, as well as practice his medical prowess. Their emotional state means very little to the eternal march of scientific progress. Turning to the first, a woman with a large gash on her arm, he begins practicing several new sterilization and suture techniques. He will work his way to the others, after he's treated what he can and studied what he cannot. Even the last breaths of a beleaguered soul can bring new information. He can hardly wait.
It will take several days to observe whether the new techniques of sterilisation have a significant effect in reducing infection in comparison to more usual humours based practice, but even with a modest sample size the chance to experiment with even this number of hurt individuals, with usual constitutions, minimal access to other magical healing, and a hopefully low likelihood of further complicating injuries is something to be savoured.
Broma takes his time with the first wounds, refining his protocol and procedure for this cohort. He catalogues the various differences between the races off-handedly. Variation is the norm even between members of the same race, and here in Phandalin the metropolitan settlers are too recently arrived for any unique and recurrent variations to be evident.
For all the lacerations to muscle, he uses deep mattress sutures to oppose the tissue. Fascia he leaves open, debriding where ragged, to allow swelling. He ligates larger vessels. For the skin he experiments with subcuticular sutures with buried knots. He has access only to silk. It will be interesting to see whether this improves the outcomes or will provide a nidus with greater scarring. With only himself around, it will save him scheduling removal of any suture material that lays over the skin.
At this early stage, with the future uncertain, the people know too little to be anything other than grateful. While the others in the party do what they do, Broma works. He is offered a total of fifty gold pieces, at the end of his work, gathered from the assembled townsfolk.
He also learns the name of many of the young people in the town who do not work for the major shops or those on the council. With his keen mind it will be easy to recall their backgrounds and circumstances should it prove relevant over the coming month.
The work keeps him busy as the other adventurers take their own action, and have their own conversations with others, too enthralled to be party to the discussions with the Aasimar and others, unless directly called upon.
Gudrune touches down in the bloody mud. Every pocket of grief, rage, and weariness in the faces of the people stokes her northern thirst for justice.
She watches as the blue-armored Broma begins tending the wounded. Good. The people need it. She watches Jayson following along withSildar and Faith. Good. We need to know what happened to the Rockseekers... She watches the Stonehill server scrubbing the street, townsfolk shoveling debris, wiping the eyes of children. Gudrune needs to know what happened to the Rockseekers... but one thing at a time.
She turns her head and speaks with Capone. "Do what you will, friend. You have my thanks. You are always welcome to ride along." She will give him the opportunity to dismount or remain where he is.
Turning to the others, she gestures towards the Townmaster's Hall. "I will seek what happened here in our absence. Should any of us hear something, let us share it and seek answers together, aye?"
She will march over to Townmaster Wester and the others present. "We have rescued an aasimar named Faith Fal'Man, whom Sildar seems to know and trust. A white dragon appeared and - thankfully - settled for a meal of spiders instead of us, but we must consider what to do about that threat. What happened here? Did the wizard do this?"
Caponequickly establishes telepathic links with his fellow adventurers, his thoughts clear and urgent. "Everyone, listen. Iarno has a wizard ally and he was expecting help. This attack may have been a diversion to free him. Anyone missing now could be the one responsible for this bloodshed. Also, something is wrong with the Aasimar, something under the surface. It could be trauma or madness, but be on alert."
Externally, Capone maintains a calm and helpful demeanor. He leaps free from Gudrune's shoulder and offers kind words to those in pain, his voice a soothing clockwork trill of encouragement. "You're safe now, we'll take care of you," he says, assisting with cleaning up the mess and providing whatever aid he can to the wounded and distressed townsfolk.
It is apparently so hard to program Aberrant Mind and Clockwork Soul spell-swapping into dndbeyond they had to remake the game without it rather than implement it.
Jayson lends a hand to help the wounded and focuses on the more severely injured first. He works with Broma and with differing skill sets tries to work in tandem with Broma to be the most effective and not interfere with Broma's technique, but to enhance their joint healing skills.
Jayson says, "Perhaps I can assist you Broma. My healing skills are a bit different most likely. If we work together to maximize the effectiveness or our two approaches it may speed things up and also spread out or abilities to help more folks."
Jayson will cover his skills and approaches so Broma can determine the best way to integrate them together if possible or to better assist more injured town folk.
Cure wound to assist with the most severely injured.
"Ah Capone....I agree with you..Also, I think Faith has something internal going on. It's too early for me to tell for sure. Something didn't seem right with one of his eyes. We may learn more once we have a chance to investigate more here."
Lorken is last to arrive on the scene, and takes in the scene and the other adventurers hard at work. He hears Capone's voice in his mind, which is a novel experience. Heeding Capone's warning, and curious as well, Lorken seeks out Faith, intending to keep an eye on him and, if possible, draw him into conversation about what happened.
Gudrune touches down in the bloody mud. Every pocket of grief, rage, and weariness in the faces of the people stokes her northern thirst for justice.
She watches as the blue-armored Broma begins tending the wounded. Good. The people need it. She watches Jayson following along withSildar and Faith. Good. We need to know what happened to the Rockseekers... She watches the Stonehill server scrubbing the street, townsfolk shoveling debris, wiping the eyes of children. Gudrune needs to know what happened to the Rockseekers... but one thing at a time.
She turns her head and speaks with Capone. "Do what you will, friend. You have my thanks. You are always welcome to ride along." She will give him the opportunity to dismount or remain where he is.
Turning to the others, she gestures towards the Townmaster's Hall. "I will seek what happened here in our absence. Should any of us hear something, let us share it and seek answers together, aye?"
She will march over to Townmaster Wester and the others present. "We have rescued an aasimar named Faith Fal'Man, whom Sildar seems to know and trust. A white dragon appeared and - thankfully - settled for a meal of spiders instead of us, but we must consider what to do about that threat. What happened here? Did the wizard do this?"
Harbin Wester is a middle-aged human. Smile-lines form creases around his eyes, and his clothes are comfortable, rich and stretched over a belly which few in the frontier town can boast. He gives the impression of man who gives cheer often, but no hint of cheer can be found now. His frowning brow, his downturned face; his expression fights the creases of his life to show his uncommon stress and anxiousness, as various townsfolk and adventurers ask demands of him and advise strategies to him.
'The Stone-Cold Raiders must pay--'
'My man has lost an eye, Harbin! An eye, what will--'
'--circling east, I think. They head towards the mountains. I don't think they'd dare the manor but--'
The Drow man behind him catches Gudrune's eye. He is tall, displaying small signs of advancing age, signs which come late for elf-folk compared to all other races. He wears a pin on his breast, a gauntled first holding a sword by the middle of the blade. He does not hold his hands to his weapons, his arms are loosely by his side, but it is clear that in a moment he could act to protect the beleaguered Harbin.
"Daran Edermath," he says on feeling Gudrune's eyes upon him. "Orchard keeper."
As Gudrune finishes her hurried accounting, there is silence for a moment. Harbin Wester gulps, audibly. You can't recall if you've ever head anyone gulp, audibly, before.
"A white dragon? Here?"
Gudrune explains further, then gains answers to her questions.
Harbin Wester and Daran Edermath, retired adventurer, explain what happened after the battle with the goblins began. Five adventurers, the Stone-cold Raiders, appear to have been bought off by Albrek or his conspirator, the Spider. At the beginning of the chaos, several adventurers ran to join your party with the Raiders and were viciously cut down from behind. The Raiders overpowered the guards, then fought Daran and those fighters who saw what was happening. They slew the guards around Albrek's cage and broke him out.
They took townsfolk for hostages, two young sisters Cathlette and Aida Camber, and in the chaos were able to flee across the Town Green. Daisy the Cow, on the green, was struck by their blade as they passed and in her fear charged the crowd, giving them a clean getaway.
Indeed, Gudrune notices now a black and white cow whining piteously, attended to by several men near the shrine of luck where Faith, Sister Garaele and Sildar are in discussion.
((Gudrune can roll History check for the pin on the orchard keeper’s breast.))
Alaina lowers her bow and starts walking away from the dragon cautiously.
Move + Dash 60' west (down)
Coriana - Company of the Grey Chain
Wagner - Dragon Heist: Bards.
DM - The Old Keep
"Hail, O Wintry Death," Gudrune says with sincere respect. She does not challenge, but neither does she look away. "Woe to those beneath thy shadow."
She does not fly. She does not hurry. She gingerly circles away towards Phandalin, keeping her battleaxe lowered and shield raised. (MOVE: 15ft away)
Gudrune glances over her shoulder at the retreating aasimar, the heroic town guard, the other warriors here...
She gives a respectful nod to Cryovain and will continue to back up, ready to attack if provoked.
Cryovain watches Gudrune's ready retreat. She does not flee. She looks like a small giant, but he sniffs and she smells like a dwarf. She flatters him, but he is no blue dragon. He has been fooled by talkers before.
His voice is the cracking of thin ice over deep, chill water. It is the snap of small bones against sword-like teeth. It is loud, and even from across the field, all can hear it.
"When a creature has the misfortune of crossing my path, I ask myself two questions. Am I hungry now? Will I be hungry later?"
Cryovain takes steps towards Gudrune and his eyes glimmer. "See you, later."
The dragon turns, takes up the spider it has killed, and in a hurricane of wings takes flight towards the mountains.
Combat is/can be finished. There are goblins that have not reached the tree line. There is a spider up the tree that will remain up there until you all leave.
The aasimar has reached Sildar who seems to recognise him.
If you choose to end combat, take 815 xp.
If you choose to end combat, what do you do next?
Alaina will try to approach Sildar and see if she can join in any conversation with the Aasimar.
Coriana - Company of the Grey Chain
Wagner - Dragon Heist: Bards.
DM - The Old Keep
Capone speaks softly enough that only Gudrune can hear him, in fact the message guarantees just that. "I'm worried about the Aasimar; his mind seems influenced by something else. Where are the other adventurers? They might be working for Glassstaff's wizard ally." Then, audibly, unconstrained by magics, "That was delightful! What a splendid battle! You're a mighty warrior!" something whirs internally and then softly chimes inside of him.
I'm probably laughing.
It is apparently so hard to program Aberrant Mind and Clockwork Soul spell-swapping into dndbeyond they had to remake the game without it rather than implement it.
Lorken watches the dragon's departure wordlessly, then, with a sigh, he lets his rage subside. Flicking bits of spider gore off his axe, he starts to lope after Alaina.
Jayson continues after the Aasimarian, glancing back to ensure the Dragon didn't want more food. He sighs thankful the beast takes flight and seems to be moving away from the rest of the party.
Jayson will join Alaina, as well hoping to join any conversation with the Aasimarian and Sildar.
Jayson says to Sildar and the Aasimarian, "Whew that was a close call back there. I'm Jayson. My new friends are glad we were able to provide some assistance. Can we help here?"
Signature
Levi Flint - DM - Mad Mage; Korvin - DM - Tyranny of Dragons; Player Lucan - The One Breath, Player Gildor Surion - Balder's Gate-Decent;
Jayson and Alaina are the first to the outskirts of Phandalin, as the other adventurers turn to join them. The bodies they will leave for the world or the town laborers to reclaim in their differing ways in their own time.
They reach the reunion of Sildar and the aasimar in time to catch the end of the opening.
"Faith," says Sildar, "Faith Fal'Man, are my eyes deceiving me? You have been gone so long, and why are you alone. Where is Matheris, where are the others of your party? What has happened. Where is Gundren?"
"Gundren," says this Faith. "Alas, Gundren. Alas the Wave Echo Cave and the Doom of the Rockseekers. Let me share this ill news only once. Sister Garaele, let me tell you both, you both deserve to know."
"I owe you my life, ask what you want, and if it gives me a few moments more without the news I fear to hear, then let that be the depth and reach of the cowardice that I enjoy today." Sildar slips a potion vial filled with a red elixir with bubbles of light rising to the surface within it. "I have but one of these, but I think you need it more than I do."
Jayson introduces himself before Faith and the constabulary begin the walk back to the town common. Faith takes his forearm in a firm shake, meeting his eye. "Well met Jayson. By the pin you wear we work for a noble order, both. Well met, and thank you for your aid, and the aid of your fellow adventurers. I fear I would be dead if not for your quick spell work.
"Can you aid me? I know not how, but I do not doubt the powers above. For all the evil I have found, perhaps you are the good sent to redress it. Follow me to our ally in the order, and let us see what she and her divine wisdoms might afford us all, and what we must all do next."
[OoC: Yes, but asking him for a blood, tissue, and hair sample seems in poor taste, given his condition. So, later.]
OOC - OMG that's funny. From the looks of Faith's hair, there may be a loose strand on his shoulder.
Jayson says, "I had heard stories of a group of adventurers in the area. I am saddened if you are the only one of them to make it back."
Jayson will assist the group, Faith and Sildar as things move to the Sister Garaele’s chapel to discuss matters in more detail.
Signature
Levi Flint - DM - Mad Mage; Korvin - DM - Tyranny of Dragons; Player Lucan - The One Breath, Player Gildor Surion - Balder's Gate-Decent;
Gudrune nods at Capone's warnings. "That is unsettling," she whispers back. "Warn the others, if you can. We will keep watch. Give a sign if we must intervene." She kicks off the ground and drifts away from the bloodstained scene.
She nudges Lorken as she glides past. "Cryovain will return and we will meet him, but not today. It will be a battle long, bitter, and cold... let us prepare for his coming." After a pause... "Would it cheer you up to know he has a mate? Isendraug. Just as nasty. What do you think of that? Lorken, Slayer of Dragons. Sounds pretty good to me.”
At the words of Faith, she looks to the Sword Mountains, whispers a prayer of protection for the Rockseekers, her old friends…
She will follow the others into town.
The light snow takes longer to slow than to start, but it is reduced to only the errant flake here and there by the time you leave the ruined stone of east Phandalin behind and return to the living, frontier town.
It is not as you left it. You immediately spot the cleric of Tymora tending to an injured woman with a bloody hand and fewer finger than when she woke. The town master is on the Townhall’s steps, talking to several well-armored folk with grimaces on their faith. A drow adventurer stands behind him silently.
Many village folk are picking through broken pieces of wood and glass scattered across the common. The server who brought you food earlier is scrubbing red-brown mud from the street, and her eyes show she has recently cried.
However, most obviously, the cage that held the imprisoned wizard is overturned. It lies broken on the ground. Of the prisoner there is no sign.
Seeing such suffering, Broma immediately begins stabilizing the nearest wounded. Such compounded pain and anguish – one would expect disgust or an emphatic melancholy at sight of such innate suffering. Instead, the scientist feels only joy at the situation at hand. He now has new subjects with which to study, as well as practice his medical prowess. Their emotional state means very little to the eternal march of scientific progress. Turning to the first, a woman with a large gash on her arm, he begins practicing several new sterilization and suture techniques. He will work his way to the others, after he's treated what he can and studied what he cannot. Even the last breaths of a beleaguered soul can bring new information. He can hardly wait.
[Medicine: 15]
It will take several days to observe whether the new techniques of sterilisation have a significant effect in reducing infection in comparison to more usual humours based practice, but even with a modest sample size the chance to experiment with even this number of hurt individuals, with usual constitutions, minimal access to other magical healing, and a hopefully low likelihood of further complicating injuries is something to be savoured.
Broma takes his time with the first wounds, refining his protocol and procedure for this cohort. He catalogues the various differences between the races off-handedly. Variation is the norm even between members of the same race, and here in Phandalin the metropolitan settlers are too recently arrived for any unique and recurrent variations to be evident.
For all the lacerations to muscle, he uses deep mattress sutures to oppose the tissue. Fascia he leaves open, debriding where ragged, to allow swelling. He ligates larger vessels. For the skin he experiments with subcuticular sutures with buried knots. He has access only to silk. It will be interesting to see whether this improves the outcomes or will provide a nidus with greater scarring. With only himself around, it will save him scheduling removal of any suture material that lays over the skin.
At this early stage, with the future uncertain, the people know too little to be anything other than grateful. While the others in the party do what they do, Broma works. He is offered a total of fifty gold pieces, at the end of his work, gathered from the assembled townsfolk.
He also learns the name of many of the young people in the town who do not work for the major shops or those on the council. With his keen mind it will be easy to recall their backgrounds and circumstances should it prove relevant over the coming month.
The work keeps him busy as the other adventurers take their own action, and have their own conversations with others, too enthralled to be party to the discussions with the Aasimar and others, unless directly called upon.
Gudrune touches down in the bloody mud. Every pocket of grief, rage, and weariness in the faces of the people stokes her northern thirst for justice.
She watches as the blue-armored Broma begins tending the wounded. Good. The people need it. She watches Jayson following along with Sildar and Faith. Good. We need to know what happened to the Rockseekers... She watches the Stonehill server scrubbing the street, townsfolk shoveling debris, wiping the eyes of children. Gudrune needs to know what happened to the Rockseekers... but one thing at a time.
She turns her head and speaks with Capone. "Do what you will, friend. You have my thanks. You are always welcome to ride along." She will give him the opportunity to dismount or remain where he is.
Turning to the others, she gestures towards the Townmaster's Hall. "I will seek what happened here in our absence. Should any of us hear something, let us share it and seek answers together, aye?"
She will march over to Townmaster Wester and the others present. "We have rescued an aasimar named Faith Fal'Man, whom Sildar seems to know and trust. A white dragon appeared and - thankfully - settled for a meal of spiders instead of us, but we must consider what to do about that threat. What happened here? Did the wizard do this?"
Capone quickly establishes telepathic links with his fellow adventurers, his thoughts clear and urgent. "Everyone, listen. Iarno has a wizard ally and he was expecting help. This attack may have been a diversion to free him. Anyone missing now could be the one responsible for this bloodshed. Also, something is wrong with the Aasimar, something under the surface. It could be trauma or madness, but be on alert."
Externally, Capone maintains a calm and helpful demeanor. He leaps free from Gudrune's shoulder and offers kind words to those in pain, his voice a soothing clockwork trill of encouragement. "You're safe now, we'll take care of you," he says, assisting with cleaning up the mess and providing whatever aid he can to the wounded and distressed townsfolk.
I'm probably laughing.
It is apparently so hard to program Aberrant Mind and Clockwork Soul spell-swapping into dndbeyond they had to remake the game without it rather than implement it.
Jayson lends a hand to help the wounded and focuses on the more severely injured first. He works with Broma and with differing skill sets tries to work in tandem with Broma to be the most effective and not interfere with Broma's technique, but to enhance their joint healing skills.
Jayson says, "Perhaps I can assist you Broma. My healing skills are a bit different most likely. If we work together to maximize the effectiveness or our two approaches it may speed things up and also spread out or abilities to help more folks."
Jayson will cover his skills and approaches so Broma can determine the best way to integrate them together if possible or to better assist more injured town folk.
Cure wound to assist with the most severely injured.
"Ah Capone....I agree with you..Also, I think Faith has something internal going on. It's too early for me to tell for sure. Something didn't seem right with one of his eyes. We may learn more once we have a chance to investigate more here."
Signature
Levi Flint - DM - Mad Mage; Korvin - DM - Tyranny of Dragons; Player Lucan - The One Breath, Player Gildor Surion - Balder's Gate-Decent;
Alaina inspects the scene by the carriage, looking for clues, tracks, and anything that sticks out.
Perception: 16 (Adv/dis 14)
Survival: 8 (Adv/dis 24)
Investigation: 13 (Adv/dis 7)
Coriana - Company of the Grey Chain
Wagner - Dragon Heist: Bards.
DM - The Old Keep
Lorken is last to arrive on the scene, and takes in the scene and the other adventurers hard at work. He hears Capone's voice in his mind, which is a novel experience. Heeding Capone's warning, and curious as well, Lorken seeks out Faith, intending to keep an eye on him and, if possible, draw him into conversation about what happened.
Harbin Wester is a middle-aged human. Smile-lines form creases around his eyes, and his clothes are comfortable, rich and stretched over a belly which few in the frontier town can boast. He gives the impression of man who gives cheer often, but no hint of cheer can be found now. His frowning brow, his downturned face; his expression fights the creases of his life to show his uncommon stress and anxiousness, as various townsfolk and adventurers ask demands of him and advise strategies to him.
'The Stone-Cold Raiders must pay--'
'My man has lost an eye, Harbin! An eye, what will--'
'--circling east, I think. They head towards the mountains. I don't think they'd dare the manor but--'
The Drow man behind him catches Gudrune's eye. He is tall, displaying small signs of advancing age, signs which come late for elf-folk compared to all other races. He wears a pin on his breast, a gauntled first holding a sword by the middle of the blade. He does not hold his hands to his weapons, his arms are loosely by his side, but it is clear that in a moment he could act to protect the beleaguered Harbin.
"Daran Edermath," he says on feeling Gudrune's eyes upon him. "Orchard keeper."
As Gudrune finishes her hurried accounting, there is silence for a moment. Harbin Wester gulps, audibly. You can't recall if you've ever head anyone gulp, audibly, before.
"A white dragon? Here?"
Gudrune explains further, then gains answers to her questions.
((Gudrune can roll History check for the pin on the orchard keeper’s breast.))