Erudisia nods along, sagely, as Meredith speaks — coming to life a little more now that they speak of something other than the bard’s overwhelming adoration for the woman she met the night before — though the gods mentioned by name mean little to her, so distant from the Seldarine are they.
“Excellent! Party on!” (And of course, as any would, she means this in the sense of a successful onward travel for their party [of two]).
To Meredith, she mutters under her breath. “I did not realise you and Bell were princesses? How embarrassed should I be, that such apparently common knowledge has passed me by?” She covers her mouth with a hand: (‘Forgive them, my mother was a princess, of course, but her family’s court does not inherit styles without territory along the female line, so I am only the daughter of a princess, but it is a common mistake amongst some we have visited. I hope it does not cause offence for myself to be addressed by the same rank as yourself and Bell.’)
Although the logos of the demigod is vaguely unsettling, so are many of the human gods’ iconography. Certainly the men seem harmless. Erudisia expects to carry on presently unless the others say that this cult is a compelling concern to their own party (of four).
Meredith leans back toward Erudisia with her hand over her mouth and whispers, " We are totally not princesses. But I don't see any reason for them to know that."
“These manlings,” Little One says, aside, to Bell and Erudisia, “are unserious people.”
“Oh…,” the light-haired one answers, “yeah. It’s just that Doresain, like, is the lord of ghouls.”
“So. Cool,” agrees the dark-haired one.
But Meredith’s mention of other possibilities causes a line to form in the dark-haired one’s brow. “Wait… bards?” He looks at the other lad. “I never thought of that. Maybe our calling is a musical one??”
“Woah,” answers the light-haired one. “I'm a bard! But Doresain…” He presents an argument which might be compelling from a certain perspective. If one thinks controlling ghouls is cool, say. Others might not find the argument compelling. Many others. Does Meredith try to persuade them to change course?
Meredith reached into her backpack and pulled out an old miniature tabla drum and handed it over, " This will get you started. Build on percussion first then add other layers later. A strong beat will lead the way."
She turned and quickly undid Bells travelling cloak and loosened the tie at her neck, pulling down sharply on her top, " For distraction purposes'. It did not even occur to Meredith that only a day ago doing so would have left in her in a paroxysm of turbulent emotions....now every part of her mind that would normally dwell on so was filled to the brim with a certain eladrin.
" Honestly.....the whole ghoul thing is not a winner with the ladies. Your much better theming yourself after something robust and masculine and....", she kind of levelled off there having little to no idea what was attractive about that sort of thing....not that there was anything wrong with that.....and there was a certain appeal to a confident woman rocking a suit....".....like a Lion or a Tiger.....or I suppose a Horse! Like some sort of Wild Stallion....perhaps?"
" Trust me, I give you my word as a princess that you follow this Finder Stratocaster.....uh, Wyvernspur and bodacious babes will be flocking to your show.....maybe even joining your band?"
Persuasion ( Advantage from Bells decolletage )- 17
Meredith, with the help of Bell’s neckline, finds a way to make herself heard. Not only that, but she offers advice in such a way that the teenagers cock an ear, give their full attention, and accept the wisdom of her words. They take the tabla and try a few beats on it. They smile brightly at each other. “Triumphant!!,” they agree. “I’m a bard! I’m a Wild Stallion!!” They play the exact same air-lute phrase as before and hoot with the joy of it.
“Well, thank you princesses!,” offers the light-haired one. “We need to be on our way! Even if we’re not going to join the ranks of the Demon Lord of Ghouls, Baldur’s Gate is our… destiny!”
“G’bye, princesses,” shouts the dark-haired teen, hefting the little tabla over his shoulder. The two set off, swinging their arms, with smiles on their faces.
('Granting Meredith inspiration for setting the lads on a more productive life path…)
++++
The rest of the day passes without incident other than a brief rain shower, and that night, you reach the hamlet of Friendly Arm. In its center, crowded around by individual huts and cabins stands the crenelated keep which holds and protects the Friendly Arm Inn. The drawbridge is down, and as you arrive, a postal rider from the south arrives, thundering over the bridge into the stables where he switches to a fresh horse and at a canter leaves again almost immediately, passing you without a word.
Within the walls, you find the inn unchanged from your stay a tenday or so ago. The main building, three-stories with dark braces supporting a plaster exterior; a very low-roofed temple painted yellow; a handful of wood-sided homes; and a stable, with an accompanying horse pond in the courtyard. Coming from within the tavern you hear music and revelry, a lively crowd.
An hour or two later, you have made arrangements for a room for Bell, Meredith and Erudisia, boarding of two horses, a stall for Little One in the stable, four evening meals (including one "double or nothing" meal, and four pints of local ale (including one "double or nothing" pint). You have had a chance to bathe in clean tubs. And you are taking your meal in the inn's tavern: game hens and soup with crusty bread and ale.
As you already know, the matrons of the tavern and inn are very muscular women, three of them: Bernice, Callista, and Dredal. You have heard a rumor that they are in fact golems, their true forms covered by an illusion immune to detection.
The dining area is large, broken into a number of expansions off of what seems to be the original common room. Banners from Balder's gate, Waterdeep, Neverwinter, Yartar, Triboar, and a number of noble houses hang from the rafters. The clientele is different from your prior stay. The dining room is almost completely full with Flaming Fist mercenaries, apparently returning to Baldur’s Gate following a goblin-hunting expedition to the Cloakwood.
As before, music is being played by a quartet of viols -- their leader a handsome elven man with a voice poignant and true -- accompanied by two older musicians, both satyrs -- playing timbrals and frame drums. Several of the Flaming Fist are dancing performatively and drawing laughs and commentary from their cohort.
The evening passes without incident, as does the following day. You find a decent spot off the road to camp the next night, which, too, passes quietly.
Now it is the morning of your final day of travel. You expect to reach Candlekeep by nightfall. As you make your way along this last stretch of the Coast Way, you soon spot a pair of familiar riders moving proudly on the road toward you in the opposite direction. The first is the gnome Magistrate named Fizz, dressed in his official red velvet robe and three-pointed cap with several gold necklaces, riding a large wolf. His guard, bailiff of the landisbrandibodingorbijurg, Brandison of the Brandis, church of Tyr, most just and bright-eyed, is a human paladin in half-plate carrying a teardrop-shaped cavalry shield and broadsword. He rides a giant-sized wolf with big brown eyes and overactive salivary glands.
You notice them before they see you. You could avoid them if you wish…
The return to Candlekeep has been leisurely and warm, even when the weather has been less obliging, and from novice bard to practiced inn-quartet, Erudisia has danced and smiled and endeavoured to turn Meredith’s conversation toward music and arts where possible, rather than her most recent paramour.
So close to Candlekeep it takes her a few moments to recognise the pair ahead of them, engrossed in their own conversation it seems.
“Little One, it may be that the magistrate has realised our little sophistry and his own inexacting questioning since last we saw them. If he addresses this, what do you believe your compelled truthful answer might be?”
To the others she says, “I have only the magic of suggestion, which may not be of any use in the blunt zone of truth, even if Little One permits me to suggest he say one thing or another. Can we in any way other than philosophy protect Little One from the actions of his past life — for I think he holds no criminal responsibility for the actions of one so wholly unconnected with himself by any dimension except time.”
“Sophistry not permanent solution to reality of burden of past actions,” Little One answers, grumbling thoughtfully. “I am remember decision I make to kill halfling and take headband. Was my nature at time. If not wearing headband, would make same decision today. Have headband, now, yes… but if participate in society and follow desire to learn require I pay price… am willing. No one above the law. I grateful Erudisia, you help. But cannot run from past. Will always catch up, I think.”
Meredith came out of her reminiscing for long enough to say, " Bah, do we hold an adult guilty of the crimes of a child? A child does not have to capacity to understand the ramifications of its actions, and before the crown neither did you."
Meredith looked Little One up and down, " But as you say, lets chat to this sanctimonious idiot again.", Meredith was unsure what it was exactly but she was feeling a lot more confident about a lot of things these days.....
Meredith came out of her reminiscing for long enough to say, " Bah, do we hold an adult guilty of the crimes of a child? A child does not have to capacity to understand the ramifications of its actions, and before the crown neither did you."
Meredith looked Little One up and down, " But as you say, lets chat to this sanctimonious idiot again.", Meredith was unsure what it was exactly but she was feeling a lot more confident about a lot of things these days.....
“Meredith," Little One disagrees. "I was not child." His big eyes fall respectfully on the bard as he takes a deep breath, lungs filling like a bull's, before sighing and continuing. "Imagine if other ogre come today and kill halfling on road. Is what he do okay? No. Is guilty. Ogre know is bad. Just doesn't care. Is crime." He turns to face the gnome and the paladin as you approach them.
The magistrate, meanwhile, has now spotted you. He halts his mount and removes from his saddlebag the same flat board as before which he gives a good shake then holds out in front of him. It magically sprouts long table legs which reach all the way to the ground, as you saw it do last time. The gnome now unfurls a scroll upon this table, and searches among its entries as you approach.
“Ladies. Ogre. Greetings. As magistrate of the five and a half meadows and three ponds and associated townships, hamlets, and villages, ET CETERA,” – he again squeaks the words with religious piety, “and in keeping with the duties and responsibilities and honors ET CETERA of the office of magistrate, and in clear sight of this bailiff of the landisbrandibodingorbijurg, Brandison of the Brandis, church of Tyr, most truthful and well-mannered, ET CETERA, and some would say, a mensch in form and heart, I hereby bring this bi-bunal to order.”
Brandison smiles warmly at the compliment but says nothing. The gnome continues, eyes flashing at you.
“It is our purpose to ensure the safety of the road by bringing crimes to justice. Now…,” he searches his scroll. “State your names.”
He compares your names, if you state them, with his scroll.
“Yes… returning from Baldur’s Gate to… Candlekeep? I do hope that your stay in the city, with its crowds and filth and crime, has not resulted in any, shall we say, shadows falling upon your virtuous hearts in the form of malfeasance, or... casino theft..., or other transgressions while you were there? I’m sure not. Now, as a formality, I must obtain your sworn oaths: Have you committed any crimes while traveling the Coast Way since your last oath before this bi-bunal?”
His piercing dark eyes, lightning crackling deep within each pupil, regard each of you as you reply.
" No, no shadow has fallen over my heart only the virtuous and cleansing light of the new day sun.", Meredith announced beamingly.
" I have commited no crimes, only good hearted deeds, since last we met."
Deception/Persuasion- 19
“I see. Fine," the gnome squeaks. "You are free to enjoy the Five and a half Meadows and Three Ponds and associated townships, hamlets, and villages. Consider supporting our local artisans by purchasing hand-crafted Beadwork By Barbura. Next?”
Her Moonshae accent uncommonly strong and cloying, Erudisia leaps on the opportunity, “Bar-bura beadwork? Eh, how you say, iz for ze adornment, oui? Or iz eet pour works of magique? Where find her?”
She looks at the handsome Paladin. “It iz such a shame for a mademoiselle to purchase her own beadz no?”
Her Moonshae accent uncommonly strong and cloying, Erudisia leaps on the opportunity, “Bar-bura beadwork? Eh, how you say, iz for ze adornment, oui? Or iz eet pour works of magique? Where find her?”
“Oh, hoho, no, not magic,” the paladin, Brandison, smiles, his long golden locks settling behind a shoulder. “Excepting the kind of magic anyone can muster. Anyone who puts their heart into their work.”
She looks at the handsome Paladin. “It iz such a shame for a mademoiselle to purchase her own beadz no?”
“That is a conundrum, Milady. But something tells me,” he continues, watching Erudisia closely as he angles his chin and sets a gentle riposte, “Milady will have no trouble finding someone to remedy that situation. Someone in Candlekeep.”
The midday sun, usually a comforting warmth on the open road, felt like a spotlight as Bellstepped forward to speak to the magistrate and Brandison. She dips a knee in a half curtsey as she fumbled for words, the simple task of recalling her journey suddenly fraught with unseen implications. Her hands start twisting the bit of cloth she has clenched in her hands.
The air hums with an unspoken tension, the rustling leaves of the ancient trees seeming to whisper judgments. Each stammering start seemed like a mistake; like a thread unraveling from a carefully woven tapestry, each truth revealing more than she intended.
"... and so, you see, we had an interesting time in the city and met some amazing people as we toured the city and shopped. Plus, we met even more interesting people on the journey back to Candlekeep.... "
What started at a normal pitch wound down to a near whisper as Bellrealized she was babbling instead of 'just the facts'. She stopped herself and stood there squirming; waiting for the judgement of the magistrate.
Erudisia hold her hand to her chest and laughs airily.
“Oh Bell, you do so get carried away when ze mans of such fine, how you say, deportment? Forgive ’er. Shall we be go on? Little One, my arms zey ache.”
Erudisia steps her horse around the wolf, making cooing sounds at the drooling canine, then snaps her fingers and holds out her affects for her friend to take from her, beyond the magistrate.
She moves as if to make on, beginning a conversation, their business with the two concluded. “What beads would suit me, in plum, Little Onr?”
The gnome considers Bell for a long moment. His magically enhanced gaze, she’s certain of it, perks. He knows she’s trying to cover something. But his response is patronizing rather than accusatory.
“Some people think they’ve done something wrong when they’ve squashed a bug. I’ve seen it before. You are free to go. Next!,” he continues, squarely facing Erudisia and Little One.
(Little One CHA save: 3-1=2)
Little One, who had been gathering himself to admit his wrongdoings, is befuddled by Erudisia’s manner.
“Wha?,” he grunts gently. “Why you arms ache, you ok? Beads, wha? In plum?”
The magistrate rolls his eyes but does not interfere. “Nobles,” he complains ruefully to Brandison, who shrugs, smiling. The two take their leave.
The rest of the day passes without incident.
The weather is cloudy and a breeze picks up on your final day of travel to Candlekeep. However, on the Lion’s Way, a rider on horseback gallops toward you. Human, thin with a prominent Adam’s apple, mid-20s, long blonde pony-tail, wearing a grey acolyte’s robe for the temple of Oghma. You recognize him as Yalerion Highscroll, the seeker at Candlekeep who (unknowingly) brought one of the gingwazim tomes you discovered.
When he sees you, he looks over his shoulder then pulls back on the reins, coming to a halt breathless and frightened.
Erudisia nods along, sagely, as Meredith speaks — coming to life a little more now that they speak of something other than the bard’s overwhelming adoration for the woman she met the night before — though the gods mentioned by name mean little to her, so distant from the Seldarine are they.
“Excellent! Party on!” (And of course, as any would, she means this in the sense of a successful onward travel for their party [of two]).
To Meredith, she mutters under her breath. “I did not realise you and Bell were princesses? How embarrassed should I be, that such apparently common knowledge has passed me by?” She covers her mouth with a hand: (‘Forgive them, my mother was a princess, of course, but her family’s court does not inherit styles without territory along the female line, so I am only the daughter of a princess, but it is a common mistake amongst some we have visited. I hope it does not cause offence for myself to be addressed by the same rank as yourself and Bell.’)
Although the logos of the demigod is vaguely unsettling, so are many of the human gods’ iconography. Certainly the men seem harmless. Erudisia expects to carry on presently unless the others say that this cult is a compelling concern to their own party (of four).
Meredith leans back toward Erudisia with her hand over her mouth and whispers, " We are totally not princesses. But I don't see any reason for them to know that."
“These manlings,” Little One says, aside, to Bell and Erudisia, “are unserious people.”
“Oh…,” the light-haired one answers, “yeah. It’s just that Doresain, like, is the lord of ghouls.”
“So. Cool,” agrees the dark-haired one.
But Meredith’s mention of other possibilities causes a line to form in the dark-haired one’s brow. “Wait… bards?” He looks at the other lad. “I never thought of that. Maybe our calling is a musical one??”
“Woah,” answers the light-haired one. “I'm a bard! But Doresain…” He presents an argument which might be compelling from a certain perspective. If one thinks controlling ghouls is cool, say. Others might not find the argument compelling. Many others. Does Meredith try to persuade them to change course?
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Meredith reached into her backpack and pulled out an old miniature tabla drum and handed it over, " This will get you started. Build on percussion first then add other layers later. A strong beat will lead the way."
She turned and quickly undid Bells travelling cloak and loosened the tie at her neck, pulling down sharply on her top, " For distraction purposes'. It did not even occur to Meredith that only a day ago doing so would have left in her in a paroxysm of turbulent emotions....now every part of her mind that would normally dwell on so was filled to the brim with a certain eladrin.
" Honestly.....the whole ghoul thing is not a winner with the ladies. Your much better theming yourself after something robust and masculine and....", she kind of levelled off there having little to no idea what was attractive about that sort of thing....not that there was anything wrong with that.....and there was a certain appeal to a confident woman rocking a suit....".....like a Lion or a Tiger.....or I suppose a Horse! Like some sort of Wild Stallion....perhaps?"
" Trust me, I give you my word as a princess that you follow this Finder Stratocaster.....uh, Wyvernspur and bodacious babes will be flocking to your show.....maybe even joining your band?"
Persuasion ( Advantage from Bells decolletage )- 17
Meredith, with the help of Bell’s neckline, finds a way to make herself heard. Not only that, but she offers advice in such a way that the teenagers cock an ear, give their full attention, and accept the wisdom of her words. They take the tabla and try a few beats on it. They smile brightly at each other. “Triumphant!!,” they agree. “I’m a bard! I’m a Wild Stallion!!” They play the exact same air-lute phrase as before and hoot with the joy of it.
“Well, thank you princesses!,” offers the light-haired one. “We need to be on our way! Even if we’re not going to join the ranks of the Demon Lord of Ghouls, Baldur’s Gate is our… destiny!”
“G’bye, princesses,” shouts the dark-haired teen, hefting the little tabla over his shoulder. The two set off, swinging their arms, with smiles on their faces.
('Granting Meredith inspiration for setting the lads on a more productive life path…)
++++
The rest of the day passes without incident other than a brief rain shower, and that night, you reach the hamlet of Friendly Arm. In its center, crowded around by individual huts and cabins stands the crenelated keep which holds and protects the Friendly Arm Inn. The drawbridge is down, and as you arrive, a postal rider from the south arrives, thundering over the bridge into the stables where he switches to a fresh horse and at a canter leaves again almost immediately, passing you without a word.
Within the walls, you find the inn unchanged from your stay a tenday or so ago. The main building, three-stories with dark braces supporting a plaster exterior; a very low-roofed temple painted yellow; a handful of wood-sided homes; and a stable, with an accompanying horse pond in the courtyard. Coming from within the tavern you hear music and revelry, a lively crowd.
An hour or two later, you have made arrangements for a room for Bell, Meredith and Erudisia, boarding of two horses, a stall for Little One in the stable, four evening meals (including one "double or nothing" meal, and four pints of local ale (including one "double or nothing" pint). You have had a chance to bathe in clean tubs. And you are taking your meal in the inn's tavern: game hens and soup with crusty bread and ale.
As you already know, the matrons of the tavern and inn are very muscular women, three of them: Bernice, Callista, and Dredal. You have heard a rumor that they are in fact golems, their true forms covered by an illusion immune to detection.
The dining area is large, broken into a number of expansions off of what seems to be the original common room. Banners from Balder's gate, Waterdeep, Neverwinter, Yartar, Triboar, and a number of noble houses hang from the rafters. The clientele is different from your prior stay. The dining room is almost completely full with Flaming Fist mercenaries, apparently returning to Baldur’s Gate following a goblin-hunting expedition to the Cloakwood.
As before, music is being played by a quartet of viols -- their leader a handsome elven man with a voice poignant and true -- accompanied by two older musicians, both satyrs -- playing timbrals and frame drums. Several of the Flaming Fist are dancing performatively and drawing laughs and commentary from their cohort.
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
The evening passes without incident, as does the following day. You find a decent spot off the road to camp the next night, which, too, passes quietly.
Now it is the morning of your final day of travel. You expect to reach Candlekeep by nightfall. As you make your way along this last stretch of the Coast Way, you soon spot a pair of familiar riders moving proudly on the road toward you in the opposite direction. The first is the gnome Magistrate named Fizz, dressed in his official red velvet robe and three-pointed cap with several gold necklaces, riding a large wolf. His guard, bailiff of the landisbrandibodingorbijurg, Brandison of the Brandis, church of Tyr, most just and bright-eyed, is a human paladin in half-plate carrying a teardrop-shaped cavalry shield and broadsword. He rides a giant-sized wolf with big brown eyes and overactive salivary glands.
You notice them before they see you. You could avoid them if you wish…
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
The return to Candlekeep has been leisurely and warm, even when the weather has been less obliging, and from novice bard to practiced inn-quartet, Erudisia has danced and smiled and endeavoured to turn Meredith’s conversation toward music and arts where possible, rather than her most recent paramour.
So close to Candlekeep it takes her a few moments to recognise the pair ahead of them, engrossed in their own conversation it seems.
“Little One, it may be that the magistrate has realised our little sophistry and his own inexacting questioning since last we saw them. If he addresses this, what do you believe your compelled truthful answer might be?”
To the others she says, “I have only the magic of suggestion, which may not be of any use in the blunt zone of truth, even if Little One permits me to suggest he say one thing or another. Can we in any way other than philosophy protect Little One from the actions of his past life — for I think he holds no criminal responsibility for the actions of one so wholly unconnected with himself by any dimension except time.”
“Sophistry not permanent solution to reality of burden of past actions,” Little One answers, grumbling thoughtfully. “I am remember decision I make to kill halfling and take headband. Was my nature at time. If not wearing headband, would make same decision today. Have headband, now, yes… but if participate in society and follow desire to learn require I pay price… am willing. No one above the law. I grateful Erudisia, you help. But cannot run from past. Will always catch up, I think.”
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Erudisia bows her head solemnly. “You are sure?”
Though it pains her heart, if it is what Little One wishes to do, then “—Air D will not do other than as you wish, my dear, dear friend.”
Meredith came out of her reminiscing for long enough to say, " Bah, do we hold an adult guilty of the crimes of a child? A child does not have to capacity to understand the ramifications of its actions, and before the crown neither did you."
Meredith looked Little One up and down, " But as you say, lets chat to this sanctimonious idiot again.", Meredith was unsure what it was exactly but she was feeling a lot more confident about a lot of things these days.....
"Thank you, Air D."
“Meredith," Little One disagrees. "I was not child." His big eyes fall respectfully on the bard as he takes a deep breath, lungs filling like a bull's, before sighing and continuing. "Imagine if other ogre come today and kill halfling on road. Is what he do okay? No. Is guilty. Ogre know is bad. Just doesn't care. Is crime." He turns to face the gnome and the paladin as you approach them.
The magistrate, meanwhile, has now spotted you. He halts his mount and removes from his saddlebag the same flat board as before which he gives a good shake then holds out in front of him. It magically sprouts long table legs which reach all the way to the ground, as you saw it do last time. The gnome now unfurls a scroll upon this table, and searches among its entries as you approach.
“Ladies. Ogre. Greetings. As magistrate of the five and a half meadows and three ponds and associated townships, hamlets, and villages, ET CETERA,” – he again squeaks the words with religious piety, “and in keeping with the duties and responsibilities and honors ET CETERA of the office of magistrate, and in clear sight of this bailiff of the landisbrandibodingorbijurg, Brandison of the Brandis, church of Tyr, most truthful and well-mannered, ET CETERA, and some would say, a mensch in form and heart, I hereby bring this bi-bunal to order.”
Brandison smiles warmly at the compliment but says nothing. The gnome continues, eyes flashing at you.
“It is our purpose to ensure the safety of the road by bringing crimes to justice. Now…,” he searches his scroll. “State your names.”
He compares your names, if you state them, with his scroll.
“Yes… returning from Baldur’s Gate to… Candlekeep? I do hope that your stay in the city, with its crowds and filth and crime, has not resulted in any, shall we say, shadows falling upon your virtuous hearts in the form of malfeasance, or... casino theft..., or other transgressions while you were there? I’m sure not. Now, as a formality, I must obtain your sworn oaths: Have you committed any crimes while traveling the Coast Way since your last oath before this bi-bunal?”
His piercing dark eyes, lightning crackling deep within each pupil, regard each of you as you reply.
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
" No, no shadow has fallen over my heart only the virtuous and cleansing light of the new day sun.", Meredith announced beamingly.
" I have commited no crimes, only good hearted deeds, since last we met."
Deception/Persuasion- 19
“I see. Fine," the gnome squeaks. "You are free to enjoy the Five and a half Meadows and Three Ponds and associated townships, hamlets, and villages. Consider supporting our local artisans by purchasing hand-crafted Beadwork By Barbura. Next?”
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Her Moonshae accent uncommonly strong and cloying, Erudisia leaps on the opportunity, “Bar-bura beadwork? Eh, how you say, iz for ze adornment, oui? Or iz eet pour works of magique? Where find her?”
She looks at the handsome Paladin. “It iz such a shame for a mademoiselle to purchase her own beadz no?”
“Oh, hoho, no, not magic,” the paladin, Brandison, smiles, his long golden locks settling behind a shoulder. “Excepting the kind of magic anyone can muster. Anyone who puts their heart into their work.”
“That is a conundrum, Milady. But something tells me,” he continues, watching Erudisia closely as he angles his chin and sets a gentle riposte, “Milady will have no trouble finding someone to remedy that situation. Someone in Candlekeep.”
"Ruff!," his brown-eyed mount adds.
"Ahem," the gnome interjects. "NEXT."
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Erudisia hold her hand to her chest and laughs airily.
“Oh Bell, you do so get carried away when ze mans of such fine, how you say, deportment? Forgive ’er. Shall we be go on? Little One, my arms zey ache.”
Erudisia steps her horse around the wolf, making cooing sounds at the drooling canine, then snaps her fingers and holds out her affects for her friend to take from her, beyond the magistrate.
She moves as if to make on, beginning a conversation, their business with the two concluded. “What beads would suit me, in plum, Little Onr?”
The gnome considers Bell for a long moment. His magically enhanced gaze, she’s certain of it, perks. He knows she’s trying to cover something. But his response is patronizing rather than accusatory.
“Some people think they’ve done something wrong when they’ve squashed a bug. I’ve seen it before. You are free to go. Next!,” he continues, squarely facing Erudisia and Little One.
(Little One CHA save: 3-1=2)
Little One, who had been gathering himself to admit his wrongdoings, is befuddled by Erudisia’s manner.
“Wha?,” he grunts gently. “Why you arms ache, you ok? Beads, wha? In plum?”
The magistrate rolls his eyes but does not interfere. “Nobles,” he complains ruefully to Brandison, who shrugs, smiling. The two take their leave.
The rest of the day passes without incident.
The weather is cloudy and a breeze picks up on your final day of travel to Candlekeep. However, on the Lion’s Way, a rider on horseback gallops toward you. Human, thin with a prominent Adam’s apple, mid-20s, long blonde pony-tail, wearing a grey acolyte’s robe for the temple of Oghma. You recognize him as Yalerion Highscroll, the seeker at Candlekeep who (unknowingly) brought one of the gingwazim tomes you discovered.
When he sees you, he looks over his shoulder then pulls back on the reins, coming to a halt breathless and frightened.
DM for Candlekeep Mysteries // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Eclipse Faraway in Gallows Dancer
Meredith called out, " Yalerion! What happened?"
Erudisia pulls her horse up short. She looks around for any enemies on his tail, or smoke or omen on the horizon. (Perception: 16, if required)