Asariel looks to be enjoying the tune, but the second Kelwin takes his fiddle without even asking, that crosses a line and his face shifts to anger.  The lyrics are fine. A bit of playful banter, Asariel would have done the same. But to take another bards lute without permission is a whole other thing, one that is actually offensive.

[[if this was happening live, Asariel would not have let his fiddle be taken so easily, or would have used Lucky to give disadvantage on the performance. But such is the way of pbp. Also, a fiddle is more like a violin than a lute. I sure hope you weren't strumming it, and singing while playing is not particularly easy]]

The performance ends and Asariel stands ready to attack (verbally, musically and dance based, not literal attacking) Kelwin for his total disrespect to another bards belongings, when the Townmaster appears. His face instantly shifts from rage to respect, whilst he uses his standing position to offer a modest bow before taking his seat again and choosing to just ignore Kelwin instead. "Townmaster, Asariel here at your service. I echo what Arista said, your invitation is most welcome, and dare I say, intriguing. And this seems like a large party already and you say you expected more? That sounds like we will be composing an epic work, a dance to inspire generations."

Kaelen appears to perk up slightly when the Townmaster appears, clearly more interested in the conversation now. He lets the others handle the pleasantries while he awaits further information on their mission.

The moment Townmaster Burgos strides in and snaps at Torban, Kelwin watches with growing amusement. The atmosphere shifts—not tense, but tempered. He takes stock of the woman, noting the solid weight in her stance, the keen strength behind her gaze. A woman used to command, he muses. An’ one not afraid to put folk in their place.

Kelwin offers a bow,  “Ah, Townmaster Burgos, is it? A pleasure, cariad" His grin is warm, but there’s a flicker of something more—respect for the way she carries herself. “Threshold’s got a fine welcome committee, I must say. Free drinks, lively company—an’ a Townmaster who knows how to keep her folk in line. A rare combination.” He gives Torban a sidelong look, his grin sharpening at the edges.

At her mention of missing arrivals, his brow quirks slightly, curiosity piqued. “Aye, we made it through, though I can’t speak for the others meant to join us. Mayhaps they took the scenic route,” he offers, tone light but edged with interest.

“Shall we get down to business then?”, she says, gesturing toward the table. “I suppose I could make an impassioned speech about the glory of expanding the realms of civilization, but I’m sure one of the two esteemed bards in the room will embellish whatever I say into oblivion. The bottom line is the Duke is hiring you as a group to help with his plans to expand the Duchy to the Valdronai pass. He wishes for you initially to travel from here to the pass, about 100 miles away, and report on the condition of the road, or more accurately, the trail. He wants a report on the visual appearance of the Keep, but for this mission, you are not expected to go inside, although you are not barred from entry. You have salvage right to treasure discovered on the mission, and a reward of 600 gold with a sufficient report. A more detailed and _factual_ report (glares at the bards) may result in higher compensation. You will be given 300 gold for supplies, use it wisely. Get word to me or my assistants at the Town Hall before you leave.”

Kaelen nods, turning to a blank page of his tome and pulling out an inkpen to scribble down the mission details in tiny script. "Seems straightforward enough. Though, I wonder why you recruited so many of us if we aren't expected to venture inside yet. It's essentially a scouting mission." He holds his tongue from adding that a few of them don't seem...particularly suited for such work, maintaining a neutral expression.

Insight on Townmaster's reaction/explanation: 14

Kelwin leans back in his chair as Burgos speaks, arms folded, expression resting somewhere between entertained and intrigued. He smirks at the mention of "embellishing into oblivion," shooting Asariel a quick glance as if to say, You hearin’ this? But as she lays out the details, his expression sharpens ever so slightly.

The job itself? Simple enough on the surface—walk a hundred miles, take a peek at an old ruin, don’t die. Easy coin. The wording though, not expected to go inside—not barred either—that’s where it gets interesting. The kind of phrase that leaves just enough room for a but to come crawling in when you least expect it.

Then Kaelen speaks up, methodically scratching down notes in that tome of his. Kel watches with mild fascination, blue eyes flicking between the scribbling and the man himself.

“Ah, Kaelen, mate, I’ve been meanin’ to ask—what is it with that book o’ yours, anyway?” He leans in slightly, propping his chin on one hand. “You scribble in it near every time you open your mouth. Not just the mission details neither. No, no, I've seen ye—always jotting somethin’ down, like you’re cataloguin’ us lot for some grand dissertation. What’s in there then, hmm?” His gaze narrows playfully, voice dropping into a mock-conspiratorial whisper. “Got us all labeled by usefulness, do ye? ‘One bard a delightful addition to any expedition, the other a bloody menace?" He grins wickedly. 

After letting the teasing hang in the air for a moment, Kelwin straightens up, his gaze sweeping the table and with a roguish grin, he claps his hands together and proclaims, “But enough of our friendly squabblin’! Now then, if the Townmaster’s provided us with 300 gold for supplies—how do you all propose we spend it, eh? I say we invest in a proper dose o’ adventure…and perhaps a another ‘round to celebrate our new partnership!”

Asariel pulls a face of "Who me?" in response to embellishing the glory before grinning, his anger at Kelwin not forgotten, but buried deep enough that it's not noticeable to all but the most perceptive. At the implication that the bards are the ones who are most likely to provide exaggerated information he (very over the top and obviously fake) acts insulted. "Based on the stories heard here already, I'm not sure us bards are the only ones prone to tall stories. Though my performances are known to exaggerate a little, that is only to allow the audience to feel the same emotions that would be felt in the true story. In the same way if I told you someone you knew got married, it wouldn't be as powerful a feeling as being at the wedding yourself."

He turns to Kaelen "She said initially so I presume that depending on our findings, the aim is to eventually go further in. Something which would make more sense doing with those who we have traveled with already. I wouldn't want to perform a dance for a the Duke with a troupe I've never met before. I would want to have spent time with them first, learnt their strengths and weaknesses and worked on choreography based on everyone's strengths. And what is life if not a dance."

"With that 300gp, does anyone else think we should avoid traveling on foot. Horseback sounds rather pleasent" 

“To be clear, several smaller parties have vanished along the trail in the past several years. Word on any of them would be one of the things that would increase the value of your report.  Additionally this is basically a test mission. Do well here, and we will expect further exploration into the keep.”

Insight: She’s more worried than she looks, even a little sad. Seems like she’s not holding a lot of information back though.

Asariel speaks a bit softer. "Who was in the party? A lover? A family member? If you give us as much detail as you can on the person you care about I will do everything I can to find you closure" 

Arista sits quietly through the exchange, arms resting across the table, her gaze steady on Townmaster Burgos. The promised coin seems generous for a mere scouting job—likely a sign they expect real danger. Still, if the town isn’t sharing its suspicions, that might just mean the trails hold secrets darker than they care to admit.

She clears her throat, voice calm. “That’s a fair amount of coin for a simple survey. Are we the first you’ve sent, or have there been others who never returned? And what’s the most recent word on the keep itself—last rumor, sighting, any trouble you can share?”

"Having a record to refer back to can aid in future decisions." Kaelen answers Kel simply as he adds the details of the Townmaster's answer. Missing parties, their fates unknown...A shame. He will have to be on the lookout for signs of them, as this may help their group avoid similar situations. "I record relevant events as they happen, free from conjecture and any personal feelings."

The shadar-kai listens to Asariel's explanation with an unchanging expression. "So...ease of coordination. I see." But even the most coordinated team can...He gives a slight frown before returning to normal.

Mathias quietly listens to the townmaster's speech, contemplating the quest before him.  

"The amount of coin is equal to the amount of danger this group faces...Arista is it? The wilds ask no quarter nor give any.  I reckon there are reasons beyond simple negligence the keep was abandoned so long ago, it would be the job of this party to determine what those reasons are so that the Duke can determine if his proposed expansion is worth the effort." the druid says. 

Asariel: The Townmaster’s confused expression is brief but you pick up quickly that the sadness is more due to her dislike of anyone dying on these missions than a specific person she grieves for.

”Closure? My idiot cousin Jerbon went out on the mission before last with my grandfather’s sword, getting that back would be amazing. It’s got a sapphire-eyed wolf on the hilt. My family would make it worth your while if you returned that to us. No obligation, you have the rights to take it as treasure, but I mean it when I say worth your while.”

“The families of the few locals would all agree that respectful burial in the wild would suffice for the bodies, or bones for older expeditions, either dug in or just cairns.”

“The keep has been abandoned for at least 75 years, if not longer, and that was rumored to have been a strange group of cultists of some sort. Regular trade over the pass has not been seen for over 100 years, since the Orc clans had a big mixup. I’m not a chronicler or stories so I don’t have a lot to say about the keep.

The only two documented expeditions were a year ago, about four people total, two locals, including my cousin, and about six months ago, all strangers. Check with my secretary if you want details on what they looked like.”

Arista sets her tankard down, fingers tapping thoughtfully along its rim. “Wild creatures are to be expected,” she begins, her gaze flicking over the group. “Though an actual keep shouldn’t worry about just beasts. Orcs, on the other hand, would have been far more visible if they’d taken the place for themselves—someone around here would’ve heard more than rumors by now.”

She lifts one shoulder in a small shrug. “As for cultists, if they’re still there, they’d need supplies from somewhere. But a place that’s been abandoned that long might hold who knows what remnants of arcane rites, especially if they have been obliterated by their own patron. Best we stay alert for any trace of their handiwork, in case something truly unnatural has been left behind. Between orcs, wild beasts, or any leftover sorcery, I’d say we keep our wits about us the whole way.”

She lets out a quiet sigh and says, “If it comes to retrieving the bodies—or what’s left—I can handle the burial. I’ve a little command over earth and water and can move them at will, so it’s no trouble. And if we come across any heirlooms out there, I’d see them back to their rightful families, though, I can't speak for everyone.”

Kelwin’s ears prick at Arista’s musings, and for a moment, he considers the nobility of it all—returning a lost heirloom, setting things right, restoring what was taken. It’s a fine thought, really. One he can absolutely get behind.

“Aye, Arista, ye’ve got the right of it,” he says, leaning back with an easy grin, fingers tapping idly on the table. “A family heirloom like that—belonged to the Townmaster’s grandfather, no less—it ought to be brought home. Proper thing to do, ain’t it? Settin’ things right, makin’ sure folk get back what’s theirs. It’s what any decent, upstandin’ soul would do.”

Then, he lets the words settle for a beat, rubbing his chin as his gaze flickers toward the Townmaster, curiosity gleaming behind his casual charm.

“Now, see, I can’t help but wonder just how much of a windfall a thing like that might be,” he muses, voice easy, casual. “Not that it matters, o’ course. The right thing’s the right thing. But when someone says worth your while—well, a man’s got to wonder just how much worth we’re talkin’.”

He pauses, considering, as if weighing something unseen. Then, with the same light charm, he lets his gaze flicker toward the Townmaster, “Regardless, we’ll keep an eye out. And should fortune favor us, you’ll have your grandfather’s blade back in hand soon enough.” He taps a finger against the table, eyes bright with amusement. “Might even be a song in it, if the tale’s worth tellin’.”

Kaelen records the Townmaster's request, as well as the mention of cultists and Orcs and the relevant years. He closes his tome and packs it away, giving a solemn nod as he agrees with Arista and Kel.

"Indeed, the dead deserve a proper rest and to have their stories known. We will find and bury who we can and return your heirloom...As for Orcs, I speak their language, so hopefully we can avoid bloodshed if we encounter any. With cultists a peaceful resolution is unlikely...but I have some experience dealing with the remnants their 'worship' can leave behind too." His voice is already a bit hoarse, as if he hasn't spoken this much in ages.

[[I’m waiting a little bit before proceeding. I’m going to post the basic details of the expedition members in the OOC chat under spoiler tags for reference if you talk to the secretary at town hall.]]

“Sounds like one of you has the brass to make me name a price. I’d say we could free up 360 gold to get it back.”

”I think that is all I have to say here, do you have any more questions, or are there any questions I have missed?”

Kelwin leans back in his chair, tapping his fingers idly against the table as he lets the number roll around in his head.

Three hundred and sixty gold. That’d go a long way—settle a few debts, clear the ledger a bit, maybe even leave enough to start fresh somewhere with a purse that doesn’t jingle so hollow.

His grin sharpens, a glimmer of renewed energy sparking in his eyes. “Well now, that’s a tidy sum for a bit of honest work, innit?” he muses, rocking forward with a slap of his hands on the table. “A lost sword, a bit o’ digging for the fallen, a stroll through an old keep—sounds like a good tale in the making, and a profitable one at that.”

Turning to Kaelen, he waves a hand dismissively at the mention of cultists. "Cultists, they be a tricky lot. That kind o’ devotion makes folk forget how to laugh. But we’ll manage." He winks at the burgeoning author before adding,  "Ah, I got nothin’ but friends—good friends, confused friends, aggressive friends, friends who don’t quite know whether to hug me or run me out of town. But friends nonetheless ”

Kaelen's eyebrows raise almost imperceptibly at the word 'friends', surprised Kel would label him and the others as such after meeting mere minutes ago. "Let us not be distracted by thoughts of the reward or our destination. First we must survive the journey. Exposure, starvation, dehydration, illness--we must prepare to combat these as much as any enemy."