"Ya, perhaps another time. " The scarred man remarks, looking at his companions he nods in the direction of away. The group heads towards another homestead. The man looks back to watch as Rusty thumps towards the Inn.
As the three enter the warmth of the Inn, Briar for the first time all faces turn to regard the entrance. At the table of six the conversation continues, all eyes turn to Sildar who hastily looks from accusing eye to expectant face. "Oh woah, now I didn't say I met a Harper, I over heard Halia say it." A roll of eyes, a sigh of resignation, "Sildar why do we even listen?"
Sildar plods on, a glutton for punishment. "No really so she was talking to one of the miners, you know from the dwarf clan. The gold panners. She said there was a Harper about."
Prior to leaving the shrine, Briar takes a moment to ask Linene, "This oracle friend of yours, where does she live? I can check with my companions to see if we can help her out."
At the inn he greats Aelinn. "Seems you found your harper?" he asks quietly, trying to make sense of the conversation he's stumbled in on.
[[ Happy 4th of July, for any fellow Americans here. ]]
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Krikas
Walking with Briar and Rusty towards the inn, Krikas is pleased that his new mechanical friend hadn't spoken to the militia more than he had. "Rusty, you see....some people aren't what they appear to be. Those guards were actually forcing the townsfolk to pay not for protection from evil doers, but for protection from the guards themselves" he says in quite tines so not to be overheard. "I wish things weren't that way tinman, but life rarely is so straight forward." He pats the warforged on the shoulder like he would a living child, not knowing if the machine could even feel his hand or the reassurance it was meant to offer.
Krikas opens the door for his friends and let's the buzz of yhe inn wash over him. Bursting through he loudly states "Time for some music and dance! Rusty, come give me a hand. I'll need a few buckets of varying emptiness." Krikas arranges the buckets in a particular order and proceed to enter into a calypso style rhythm banging on each bucket and producing various melodies with the simple containers.
She moves back to the table to talk to Sildar So my best bet is to talk to Halia or the miners? Have you got any requests for the music?
She grinned and then said to Krikas Do you know the blades dance with drumbeats from the Heartwood? She pulled at her hair clasp and a braid fell down to her waist. Untwisting the twine holding the braid her hair flowed out down to her shins a torrent of Black shining blue in the torchlight. She kicked off her boots and left the throwing daggers with Felmar. Then she commenced a whirled mix of dance, acrobatics and blade work against a hidden enemy, her facial tattoos glowed a rich green. Dip and swirl, leap skywards and bring the two daggers down together into an imaginary enemies back. All done as gracefully as a cat. Acrobatics 24.
She nodded at the barman and asked for dinner for her group. She walked back to the table and pulled her boots back on as Felmar handed her back the knives. Anyone want to dance?
Rusty gladly detaches and shares a couple of buckets with Krikas. When the half-elf wants a third, Rusty removes a third, dumping its contents into a fourth, and hands it over. Once the metal man sees what Rusty is doing, he detaches a fourth, emptying its contents, and takes a position beside the elf. (Performance: 9) The construct follows Krikas's example. It's clear he has never before played a bucket, though he appears to have some experience.
"Oh my dear" Linene exclaims, "I feel you have misunderstood. The Oracle is not my friend. What she is I do not know, an elf, a fey perhaps. She has been in the woods longer than the town that was named for her." Linene smiles, a soft and gentle expression. "She is a force of nature, many say she was the protector of conyberry, others describe her as a horror and a blight. Whatever she is there are always those desperate enough, or trusting, to seek her wisdom."
"A friend of mine, Evellynne was just such a woman, her daughter was ill and Aranya could not help. She went over a week ago and has not returned."
As Krikas sets up a series of buckets a beat fills the room, soon after rusty joins in, the atmosphere of the tavern changes. The daylight fading into early evening. The sky streaked with amber. Townsfolk filter in, soon filling the empty tables. Some of the more boisterous formed a dance circle and begin to sway and move with the music.
As fiddles and lutes were pulled from vestments a lively tune was soon joined. Even the most reserved of the lot found themselves tapping their feet or swaying to the music. Couples joined each other on the floor, tables pulled back to make room. skirts went twirling, as boots stomped in time. At one point it seems half the town has jammed into the great room. The hearth is not the only thing heating the room with so many bodies nearby.
Aelinn smiles like she is having fun, it is far from the truth, but let the militia think so. The more friendly they are with the townsfolk the better. She pulled Calista into a circle dance, Her hair flowed around the two of them as she moves. When finished she said That is a better way of getting to know someone, yes? She delivered Calista into waiting hands as a grand circle dance started.
She moved towards Felmar and whispered to him. There's trouble ,we need to talk in the common room before bed, drink enough to be happy but don't go overboard. She wandered around the rest of her group and whispered the same. Then she asked Krikas if he could play a dwarf drums dance for the dwarves present. Felmar I believe you know this dance! The rest of the table urged him on. As a wood elf she was only 5ft tall, same as Rusty her height not so different from Felmars. She knew this dance well, the dwarves that she'd run with had partied with much gusto, good ale being drunk as the dwarf drums roared.
Felmar heartedly agrees with Aelinn. The group needs to talk and decide how they are going to proceed. Felmar has been uncharacteristically quiet for a while because he’s been trying to sort out everything that’s taken place up til now. The mine, the dragon, the brigands, and Moradin knows what kind of trouble his companions got into while Felmar was busy in the inn! He’s never felt more out of his depth. He’s never considered himself a stupid dwarf, but Felmar is used to dealing with the problem in front of him. The group needs to decide on a course of action so he knows exactly who he needs to swing his hammer at.
Then he hears Aelinn’s invitation and the accompanying music. The sound of the drums sends him back home again. To the home he can no longer go back to. He thinks of the parties his father used to throw. He thinks about the dwarf he’d always wanted to ask to dance like this, but he was too afraid. Now he never will. He tries to shake these thoughts away before he completely spirals. Aelinn didn’t know any of this. How could she? The elf was trying to be kind and include him in the merriment. As much as the music cut at his soul, he recognized the good intention for what it was and didn’t want to hurt the lass’s feelings. So he musters his will, rises, and tries his best to let the music guide his movements.
Performance: Nat 1 (gave myself disadvantage because of everything going on in his mind)
"Ah yes, my apologies." stammers Briar was Linene points out his misunderstanding vis-a-vis oracle and friend. "A lot on my mind getting me mixed up. Certainly something I'll discuss with my companions. And I'm inclined to guess we'll be able to help." He bids her a blessed day as the group heads to the bar.
Briar is put into a good mood with Krikas' makeshift drums. Reminds him of some times with companions back as a soldier. Though not much of a dancer, he tries to have a little rhythm about him as he moves through the crowd.
Taking Aelinn's advice to heart he moseys over the barkeep to order a mug of ale and mingles with the crowd, exchanging smalltalk while keeping close to Aelinn and Felmar. As the dwarf dances he gives encouraging words, trying to help Felmar feel better with his performance.
The mood of the great room was so lively thanks to his performance, Krikas smiles broadly as he watches Aelinn dance and invite others to do so. He chuckles at Felmar's attempt to join in. "Stick to squashing things Felmar!" He shouts over the boisterous patrons.
When Aelinn suggests a dwarven tune he knows the perfect one. "Rusty, give me a whirr-clank, whirr-clank, click, shoosh. Then repeat. Got it?" Krikas instructs the metal man to operate his various appendages and gearing to lay down a rhythm. Krikas then proceeds to use the buckets to play a very bass heavy tune. He proceeds to sing the song of Moradin and his making of the dwarves. Normally a heady tune, Krikas manages to liven it up with his fast pace and backup musician.
((I have interstate family visiting for the next week. Posting may be erratic. Shouldn't be too bad as I'm on leave as well, but thought I'd give a heads up.))
She looks around for the stew that she could smell wafting from the kitchen, her stomach rumbled.
It made her smile to see Briar bouncing along to the music. Poor Felmar seemed to have two left feet her dexterity managing her to just miss being trod on. Dex check 22
She decided to get a feel for the militia seated quietly in the corner tapping their feet. Come! Join us, we've room for two more. She reached towards the two of them and took their hands as another circle dance commenced. She waited for their reply, smiling.
The tavern it self groans beneath the stomping and swaying motion of the townsfolk. Krikas keeps up a beat rousing the bodies, even the most timid or reserved to join in. Toblen and Fallia keep busy all night, ushering drinks and stew to any who ask. You get the sense this is not a normal evening, for the tavern or the town. Throughout the next couple hours the tavern fills then slowly empties as the evening wears on.
Aelinn stepping to the Half-orc and Human male in the far corner, the pair keeping to themselves all evening, she invites them to join the dance. The two turn, fear clear on their faces, they did not see her coming. Embroiled deep in their own conversation. Their clothing is salt encrusted, these men have spent much time near the coast. A days travel to the Sea of Swords, Phandalin is a little out of the way. The Half-orc sputters, the terror of something seen or experienced still written upon his speech and features. "Ah, well, not right now" He looks to his companion for support. The Human simply snatches his hand back, staring at it as if it had been burnt. He looks up, and through the Elf glancing about the room as if seeing ghosts.
Rusty is a real draw for the simple folk. Many of them coming over as the Machine taps a clumsy but enthusiastic rhythm on his bucket. They all have the same questions, where is he from, how was he created, could he do any tricks. Most of them leave quickly after a query or two, nervousness, fear, curiosity, battling within the hearts of each visitor.
Felmars clumsy antics are enough to draw a half dozen Dwarves from the crowd, miners from the look of them they stomp and cheer. The floor boards creak as the raucous dance goes on. As it comes to an end with huge rough laughter Felmar is clapped on the shoulder. "That was fun lad, but maybe you keep off the floor before ya hurt one of the delicate ones" he says with a wink. "We could always use a strong hand out in the field, specially these days. We be missing a few crew, shoulda checked in by now, could use some help in checking on them, come by the Hall if ya interested. Names Dunguun," He finishes with that, as the group of Dwarves start heading for the door.
Groups of patrons sit at tables, cluster around the bar or corners of the room or sway in a dance that flows all evening. More than a few times Briar adds a comment to the converstaion at hand, eliciting surprise or startlement as his appearance was previously unrealized. Gasps, jumps, and "Oh my, we didn't see you there" greet him frequently as he floats about the room. Briar learns a lot about the weather, normally a staple topic, the endless winter has added some gravitas to the folks discussion. The common theory is the Wyrm in the mountains, often added is Harbin Wester seems to be doing nothing about it. A few whispered words are offered about replacing him in the next election but it quickly gets hushed into another subject.
As the tavern clears out, Toblen looks exhausted, his eyes almost pleading for the last to leave. Sildar slides in next to Aelinn, looking serious, earnest in his speech. "This town needs allies they can trust. If you think we can trust you come see me at the Farriers, across from Barthens."
The last of the Folk leave, Toblen bars the door, looking at the five of you tiredly. "If ya goin out, use the back kitchen door, but knowin it will lock behind you." he turns to leave then looks back, "And no propping it open either..."
The Inn is quiet, the rooms on the second floor are occupied, but the inhabitants had closed their doors behind them as they retired. You are alone within the greatroom.
Felmar tries to muster all the cheer he can, but his heart just isn’t in it. Clearly from the reactions of the other patrons his attempt at dance was less than successful. This does little to soothe his dour mood. As the inn empties out, he grabs a stool by the bar. He turns to face his companion, and asks the question that’s been weighing him down all night. “So…what’re we gonna do now?”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Kaelan Thornfell - Wildhunt Shifter Beast Barbarian - Horde of the Dragon Queen
Gustuck "Grumpy Gus" Clayshaper - Deep Gnome Astral Self Monk - Malady of Minarrh
Shelmo Sherrinford - Fairy Inquisitive Rogue - Vae Victus
Rusty handily replaces all of his buckets. He found the evening to be very informative. Never had The Blade suggested he use one of his buckets as a drum. He had played a drum during the show almost nightly, but it had always been a proper instrument that The Blade had. This was one more thing he had learned from his new traveling companions.
In response to Felmar's question, Rusty replies in his usual monotone, "Custom-tom-tom-tom dictates that it is too late of an hour-hour-hour-hour to visit Harbin Wester. We should-should-should-should plan to visit him first thing in the morning-ning-ning-ning." He pauses a second then asks, "Why did-did-did-did we not accompany that man earli-li-li-lier when he offered to take us?"
In response to Felmar, Briar says, "Lots of things going on in this town. I don't like those Redbands. Bad vibes. Though it also seems dragon is commonly thought to be the cause of this winter. And that Harbin doesn't seem to inspire most folks' confidence. Though like Rusty mentioned, might be best seeing him tomorrow."
Turning to Rusty he smiles. The warforged had given quite the performance that night with Krikas. And then, thinking of the scarred man's visage, the smile fades. "He did not seem to have the best intentions towards you. I'm not sure exactly what he had in mind, but it felt like he saw you more as a tool for use than anything kind."
The town 'militia' are the same group as the bandits we met, and there's a lot of them. Aranya believes there to be another base near or in an old Elven hunting lodge in the woods, she said she'd give us directions. They also do not seem to have run off the goblins but are working with them. The local mining dwarves know of a Harper so we need to speak to them, they have dwarves missing as well according to Dunguun. Sildar also wants a word with people he can trust. She sighed as she brushed through her hair and rebraided it. What did you find out from the cleric Briar? Technically we need to speak to Harbin in the morning to get permission to stay, I don't want to be run off by the mercenaries. I think we should stick together tomorrow.
Snow gently falls, obscuring the town beyond as seen through the glazed windows of the warm great room. The fire burns low, embers casting a glow to the polished wood of the bar and rafters, the shadows begin to creep in as the conversation continues. An ominous silence to the world lurks at the edges of your gently lit presence. The night moves on as you discuss your plans, the Inn still, a small rat takes advantage of the deep pools of dark, finding a discarded hunk of dried bread.
Your task was to come to Phandalin, speak with Harbin Wester. Find out why the Iron has not begun to flow. The Dwarves of Clan Oresong should have sent their first and largest delivery of Iron already. The townsfolk, hampered it seems by a handful of challenges, have not lost their spirit, hope for the days ahead still lingers in this town.
Close to but without a firm course of action you throw a pair of logs on the dying embers and head to the common room to sleep. As you rouse in the morning, the sound of a woman gently singing, can be heard through the planks of the floor, the warmth of the kitchen below. The smell of baking bread sends its enticing aroma throughout the Inn.
The great room already has patrons descended from the rented rooms above.
The pair of Humans, large burly men that could be mistaken for brothers, or not, sit alone. The Dwarf is absent from the table. The two eat the stew, a spiced bowl of meat and vegetables with relish. Both eye the hunk of still steaming bread at the table with mild disgust, it is an offence to even be there, yet they leave it alone, untouched.
The Human and Half-orc have resumed their positions at the furthest table. Half eaten libations are pushed to the side as they converse in mostly hushed tones with outburst's of fear or anger. When they do so they stop and look around to see if any one is paying attention.
"The next ship is in two days we have to return" Says the human.
"What if we dont...What if we let it pass." Replies the Half-orc. "You saw what happened, it should have dropped anchor but it cruised right in, did you see that light?"
"If that ship moves on, theZhentswill have our heads, look we need to try, we cant fail or were dead either way." There is an obvious pause, a word unspoken within the Humans sentence, it however has the power to force the Half-orc to relent.
"What if we just leave, head..." Starts the Half-orc, "Head where, there is nowhere they wont find us" finishes the Human.
A smiling woman, genuine not forced emerges from the kitchen. Tossing a slew of bowls with carved wooden spoons down before you, a loaf of bread tucked under her arm. She is about the same age as Toblen, there is a resemblance between the two. Not siblings but rather the shared characteristics of two people spending a long time together. "Mornin" she says before spinning gracefully to return to the kitchen. The door swinging gently allowing the sound of happy song to emerge.
Please provide direction for your days course of action
Eating heartily she says to her colleagues So we go and find Harbin at the manor first thing then see what else has to happen today. Briar are you going to brush away the snow at the shrine to Tymora? You haven't said what she had news about yet, is it anything that needs action today?
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"Ya, perhaps another time. " The scarred man remarks, looking at his companions he nods in the direction of away. The group heads towards another homestead. The man looks back to watch as Rusty thumps towards the Inn.
As the three enter the warmth of the Inn, Briar for the first time all faces turn to regard the entrance. At the table of six the conversation continues, all eyes turn to Sildar who hastily looks from accusing eye to expectant face. "Oh woah, now I didn't say I met a Harper, I over heard Halia say it." A roll of eyes, a sigh of resignation, "Sildar why do we even listen?"
Sildar plods on, a glutton for punishment. "No really so she was talking to one of the miners, you know from the dwarf clan. The gold panners. She said there was a Harper about."
Prior to leaving the shrine, Briar takes a moment to ask Linene, "This oracle friend of yours, where does she live? I can check with my companions to see if we can help her out."
At the inn he greats Aelinn. "Seems you found your harper?" he asks quietly, trying to make sense of the conversation he's stumbled in on.
[[ Happy 4th of July, for any fellow Americans here. ]]
This is a signature. It was a simple signature. But it has been upgraded.
Belolonandalogalo, Sunny | Draíocht, Kholias | Eggo Lass, 100 Dungeons
Talorin Tebedi, Vecna: Eve | Cherry, Stormwreck | Chipper, Strahd
We Are Modron
Get rickrolled here. Awesome music here. Track 48, 5/23/25, Immaculate Mary
Krikas
Walking with Briar and Rusty towards the inn, Krikas is pleased that his new mechanical friend hadn't spoken to the militia more than he had. "Rusty, you see....some people aren't what they appear to be. Those guards were actually forcing the townsfolk to pay not for protection from evil doers, but for protection from the guards themselves" he says in quite tines so not to be overheard. "I wish things weren't that way tinman, but life rarely is so straight forward." He pats the warforged on the shoulder like he would a living child, not knowing if the machine could even feel his hand or the reassurance it was meant to offer.
Krikas opens the door for his friends and let's the buzz of yhe inn wash over him. Bursting through he loudly states "Time for some music and dance! Rusty, come give me a hand. I'll need a few buckets of varying emptiness." Krikas arranges the buckets in a particular order and proceed to enter into a calypso style rhythm banging on each bucket and producing various melodies with the simple containers.
Performance 19
Aelin
She moves back to the table to talk to Sildar So my best bet is to talk to Halia or the miners? Have you got any requests for the music?
She grinned and then said to Krikas Do you know the blades dance with drumbeats from the Heartwood? She pulled at her hair clasp and a braid fell down to her waist. Untwisting the twine holding the braid her hair flowed out down to her shins a torrent of Black shining blue in the torchlight. She kicked off her boots and left the throwing daggers with Felmar. Then she commenced a whirled mix of dance, acrobatics and blade work against a hidden enemy, her facial tattoos glowed a rich green. Dip and swirl, leap skywards and bring the two daggers down together into an imaginary enemies back. All done as gracefully as a cat. Acrobatics 24.
She nodded at the barman and asked for dinner for her group. She walked back to the table and pulled her boots back on as Felmar handed her back the knives. Anyone want to dance?
Rusty gladly detaches and shares a couple of buckets with Krikas. When the half-elf wants a third, Rusty removes a third, dumping its contents into a fourth, and hands it over. Once the metal man sees what Rusty is doing, he detaches a fourth, emptying its contents, and takes a position beside the elf. (Performance: 9) The construct follows Krikas's example. It's clear he has never before played a bucket, though he appears to have some experience.
"Oh my dear" Linene exclaims, "I feel you have misunderstood. The Oracle is not my friend. What she is I do not know, an elf, a fey perhaps. She has been in the woods longer than the town that was named for her." Linene smiles, a soft and gentle expression. "She is a force of nature, many say she was the protector of conyberry, others describe her as a horror and a blight. Whatever she is there are always those desperate enough, or trusting, to seek her wisdom."
"A friend of mine, Evellynne was just such a woman, her daughter was ill and Aranya could not help. She went over a week ago and has not returned."
As Krikas sets up a series of buckets a beat fills the room, soon after rusty joins in, the atmosphere of the tavern changes. The daylight fading into early evening. The sky streaked with amber. Townsfolk filter in, soon filling the empty tables. Some of the more boisterous formed a dance circle and begin to sway and move with the music.
As fiddles and lutes were pulled from vestments a lively tune was soon joined. Even the most reserved of the lot found themselves tapping their feet or swaying to the music. Couples joined each other on the floor, tables pulled back to make room. skirts went twirling, as boots stomped in time. At one point it seems half the town has jammed into the great room. The hearth is not the only thing heating the room with so many bodies nearby.
Aelinn
Aelinn smiles like she is having fun, it is far from the truth, but let the militia think so. The more friendly they are with the townsfolk the better. She pulled Calista into a circle dance, Her hair flowed around the two of them as she moves. When finished she said That is a better way of getting to know someone, yes? She delivered Calista into waiting hands as a grand circle dance started.
She moved towards Felmar and whispered to him. There's trouble ,we need to talk in the common room before bed, drink enough to be happy but don't go overboard. She wandered around the rest of her group and whispered the same. Then she asked Krikas if he could play a dwarf drums dance for the dwarves present. Felmar I believe you know this dance! The rest of the table urged him on. As a wood elf she was only 5ft tall, same as Rusty her height not so different from Felmars. She knew this dance well, the dwarves that she'd run with had partied with much gusto, good ale being drunk as the dwarf drums roared.
Persuasion 17
Felmar heartedly agrees with Aelinn. The group needs to talk and decide how they are going to proceed. Felmar has been uncharacteristically quiet for a while because he’s been trying to sort out everything that’s taken place up til now. The mine, the dragon, the brigands, and Moradin knows what kind of trouble his companions got into while Felmar was busy in the inn! He’s never felt more out of his depth. He’s never considered himself a stupid dwarf, but Felmar is used to dealing with the problem in front of him. The group needs to decide on a course of action so he knows exactly who he needs to swing his hammer at.
Then he hears Aelinn’s invitation and the accompanying music. The sound of the drums sends him back home again. To the home he can no longer go back to. He thinks of the parties his father used to throw. He thinks about the dwarf he’d always wanted to ask to dance like this, but he was too afraid. Now he never will. He tries to shake these thoughts away before he completely spirals. Aelinn didn’t know any of this. How could she? The elf was trying to be kind and include him in the merriment. As much as the music cut at his soul, he recognized the good intention for what it was and didn’t want to hurt the lass’s feelings. So he musters his will, rises, and tries his best to let the music guide his movements.
Performance: Nat 1 (gave myself disadvantage because of everything going on in his mind)
Kaelan Thornfell - Wildhunt Shifter Beast Barbarian - Horde of the Dragon Queen
Gustuck "Grumpy Gus" Clayshaper - Deep Gnome Astral Self Monk - Malady of Minarrh
Shelmo Sherrinford - Fairy Inquisitive Rogue - Vae Victus
Solstice Nightchill - Winter Eladrin Hunter Ranger - The Yawning Portal
Captain Duskstar - Human Hex "Gun" Warlock - Airships and Whiskey
"Ah yes, my apologies." stammers Briar was Linene points out his misunderstanding vis-a-vis oracle and friend. "A lot on my mind getting me mixed up. Certainly something I'll discuss with my companions. And I'm inclined to guess we'll be able to help." He bids her a blessed day as the group heads to the bar.
Briar is put into a good mood with Krikas' makeshift drums. Reminds him of some times with companions back as a soldier. Though not much of a dancer, he tries to have a little rhythm about him as he moves through the crowd.
Taking Aelinn's advice to heart he moseys over the barkeep to order a mug of ale and mingles with the crowd, exchanging smalltalk while keeping close to Aelinn and Felmar. As the dwarf dances he gives encouraging words, trying to help Felmar feel better with his performance.
This is a signature. It was a simple signature. But it has been upgraded.
Belolonandalogalo, Sunny | Draíocht, Kholias | Eggo Lass, 100 Dungeons
Talorin Tebedi, Vecna: Eve | Cherry, Stormwreck | Chipper, Strahd
We Are Modron
Get rickrolled here. Awesome music here. Track 48, 5/23/25, Immaculate Mary
Krikas
The mood of the great room was so lively thanks to his performance, Krikas smiles broadly as he watches Aelinn dance and invite others to do so. He chuckles at Felmar's attempt to join in. "Stick to squashing things Felmar!" He shouts over the boisterous patrons.
When Aelinn suggests a dwarven tune he knows the perfect one. "Rusty, give me a whirr-clank, whirr-clank, click, shoosh. Then repeat. Got it?" Krikas instructs the metal man to operate his various appendages and gearing to lay down a rhythm. Krikas then proceeds to use the buckets to play a very bass heavy tune. He proceeds to sing the song of Moradin and his making of the dwarves. Normally a heady tune, Krikas manages to liven it up with his fast pace and backup musician.
((I have interstate family visiting for the next week. Posting may be erratic. Shouldn't be too bad as I'm on leave as well, but thought I'd give a heads up.))
((Even with a Nat 1, Felmar still dances better than me!))
Kaelan Thornfell - Wildhunt Shifter Beast Barbarian - Horde of the Dragon Queen
Gustuck "Grumpy Gus" Clayshaper - Deep Gnome Astral Self Monk - Malady of Minarrh
Shelmo Sherrinford - Fairy Inquisitive Rogue - Vae Victus
Solstice Nightchill - Winter Eladrin Hunter Ranger - The Yawning Portal
Captain Duskstar - Human Hex "Gun" Warlock - Airships and Whiskey
(OOC Have a good time with your family)
Aelinn
She looks around for the stew that she could smell wafting from the kitchen, her stomach rumbled.
It made her smile to see Briar bouncing along to the music. Poor Felmar seemed to have two left feet her dexterity managing her to just miss being trod on. Dex check 22
She decided to get a feel for the militia seated quietly in the corner tapping their feet. Come! Join us, we've room for two more. She reached towards the two of them and took their hands as another circle dance commenced. She waited for their reply, smiling.
The tavern it self groans beneath the stomping and swaying motion of the townsfolk. Krikas keeps up a beat rousing the bodies, even the most timid or reserved to join in. Toblen and Fallia keep busy all night, ushering drinks and stew to any who ask. You get the sense this is not a normal evening, for the tavern or the town. Throughout the next couple hours the tavern fills then slowly empties as the evening wears on.
Aelinn stepping to the Half-orc and Human male in the far corner, the pair keeping to themselves all evening, she invites them to join the dance. The two turn, fear clear on their faces, they did not see her coming. Embroiled deep in their own conversation. Their clothing is salt encrusted, these men have spent much time near the coast. A days travel to the Sea of Swords, Phandalin is a little out of the way. The Half-orc sputters, the terror of something seen or experienced still written upon his speech and features. "Ah, well, not right now" He looks to his companion for support. The Human simply snatches his hand back, staring at it as if it had been burnt. He looks up, and through the Elf glancing about the room as if seeing ghosts.
Rusty is a real draw for the simple folk. Many of them coming over as the Machine taps a clumsy but enthusiastic rhythm on his bucket. They all have the same questions, where is he from, how was he created, could he do any tricks. Most of them leave quickly after a query or two, nervousness, fear, curiosity, battling within the hearts of each visitor.
Felmars clumsy antics are enough to draw a half dozen Dwarves from the crowd, miners from the look of them they stomp and cheer. The floor boards creak as the raucous dance goes on. As it comes to an end with huge rough laughter Felmar is clapped on the shoulder. "That was fun lad, but maybe you keep off the floor before ya hurt one of the delicate ones" he says with a wink. "We could always use a strong hand out in the field, specially these days. We be missing a few crew, shoulda checked in by now, could use some help in checking on them, come by the Hall if ya interested. Names Dunguun," He finishes with that, as the group of Dwarves start heading for the door.
Groups of patrons sit at tables, cluster around the bar or corners of the room or sway in a dance that flows all evening. More than a few times Briar adds a comment to the converstaion at hand, eliciting surprise or startlement as his appearance was previously unrealized. Gasps, jumps, and "Oh my, we didn't see you there" greet him frequently as he floats about the room. Briar learns a lot about the weather, normally a staple topic, the endless winter has added some gravitas to the folks discussion. The common theory is the Wyrm in the mountains, often added is Harbin Wester seems to be doing nothing about it. A few whispered words are offered about replacing him in the next election but it quickly gets hushed into another subject.
As the tavern clears out, Toblen looks exhausted, his eyes almost pleading for the last to leave. Sildar slides in next to Aelinn, looking serious, earnest in his speech. "This town needs allies they can trust. If you think we can trust you come see me at the Farriers, across from Barthens."
The last of the Folk leave, Toblen bars the door, looking at the five of you tiredly. "If ya goin out, use the back kitchen door, but knowin it will lock behind you." he turns to leave then looks back, "And no propping it open either..."
The Inn is quiet, the rooms on the second floor are occupied, but the inhabitants had closed their doors behind them as they retired. You are alone within the greatroom.
Felmar tries to muster all the cheer he can, but his heart just isn’t in it. Clearly from the reactions of the other patrons his attempt at dance was less than successful. This does little to soothe his dour mood. As the inn empties out, he grabs a stool by the bar. He turns to face his companion, and asks the question that’s been weighing him down all night. “So…what’re we gonna do now?”
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Rusty handily replaces all of his buckets. He found the evening to be very informative. Never had The Blade suggested he use one of his buckets as a drum. He had played a drum during the show almost nightly, but it had always been a proper instrument that The Blade had. This was one more thing he had learned from his new traveling companions.
In response to Felmar's question, Rusty replies in his usual monotone, "Custom-tom-tom-tom dictates that it is too late of an hour-hour-hour-hour to visit Harbin Wester. We should-should-should-should plan to visit him first thing in the morning-ning-ning-ning." He pauses a second then asks, "Why did-did-did-did we not accompany that man earli-li-li-lier when he offered to take us?"
In response to Felmar, Briar says, "Lots of things going on in this town. I don't like those Redbands. Bad vibes. Though it also seems dragon is commonly thought to be the cause of this winter. And that Harbin doesn't seem to inspire most folks' confidence. Though like Rusty mentioned, might be best seeing him tomorrow."
Turning to Rusty he smiles. The warforged had given quite the performance that night with Krikas. And then, thinking of the scarred man's visage, the smile fades. "He did not seem to have the best intentions towards you. I'm not sure exactly what he had in mind, but it felt like he saw you more as a tool for use than anything kind."
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Aelinn
The town 'militia' are the same group as the bandits we met, and there's a lot of them. Aranya believes there to be another base near or in an old Elven hunting lodge in the woods, she said she'd give us directions. They also do not seem to have run off the goblins but are working with them. The local mining dwarves know of a Harper so we need to speak to them, they have dwarves missing as well according to Dunguun. Sildar also wants a word with people he can trust. She sighed as she brushed through her hair and rebraided it. What did you find out from the cleric Briar? Technically we need to speak to Harbin in the morning to get permission to stay, I don't want to be run off by the mercenaries. I think we should stick together tomorrow.
Snow gently falls, obscuring the town beyond as seen through the glazed windows of the warm great room. The fire burns low, embers casting a glow to the polished wood of the bar and rafters, the shadows begin to creep in as the conversation continues. An ominous silence to the world lurks at the edges of your gently lit presence. The night moves on as you discuss your plans, the Inn still, a small rat takes advantage of the deep pools of dark, finding a discarded hunk of dried bread.
Your task was to come to Phandalin, speak with Harbin Wester. Find out why the Iron has not begun to flow. The Dwarves of Clan Oresong should have sent their first and largest delivery of Iron already. The townsfolk, hampered it seems by a handful of challenges, have not lost their spirit, hope for the days ahead still lingers in this town.
Close to but without a firm course of action you throw a pair of logs on the dying embers and head to the common room to sleep. As you rouse in the morning, the sound of a woman gently singing, can be heard through the planks of the floor, the warmth of the kitchen below. The smell of baking bread sends its enticing aroma throughout the Inn.
The great room already has patrons descended from the rented rooms above.
The pair of Humans, large burly men that could be mistaken for brothers, or not, sit alone. The Dwarf is absent from the table. The two eat the stew, a spiced bowl of meat and vegetables with relish. Both eye the hunk of still steaming bread at the table with mild disgust, it is an offence to even be there, yet they leave it alone, untouched.
The Human and Half-orc have resumed their positions at the furthest table. Half eaten libations are pushed to the side as they converse in mostly hushed tones with outburst's of fear or anger. When they do so they stop and look around to see if any one is paying attention.
"The next ship is in two days we have to return" Says the human.
"What if we dont...What if we let it pass." Replies the Half-orc. "You saw what happened, it should have dropped anchor but it cruised right in, did you see that light?"
"If that ship moves on, theZhentswill have our heads, look we need to try, we cant fail or were dead either way." There is an obvious pause, a word unspoken within the Humans sentence, it however has the power to force the Half-orc to relent.
"What if we just leave, head..." Starts the Half-orc, "Head where, there is nowhere they wont find us" finishes the Human.
A smiling woman, genuine not forced emerges from the kitchen. Tossing a slew of bowls with carved wooden spoons down before you, a loaf of bread tucked under her arm. She is about the same age as Toblen, there is a resemblance between the two. Not siblings but rather the shared characteristics of two people spending a long time together. "Mornin" she says before spinning gracefully to return to the kitchen. The door swinging gently allowing the sound of happy song to emerge.
Please provide direction for your days course of action
Aelinn
Eating heartily she says to her colleagues So we go and find Harbin at the manor first thing then see what else has to happen today. Briar are you going to brush away the snow at the shrine to Tymora? You haven't said what she had news about yet, is it anything that needs action today?