Halia watches as both Zephyros and Eldrin exit the exchange then turns to Lyra and asks, "Well, do we have an agreement? Your time and energy in exchange for the spell scroll."
Meira nods as Zephyros decides to just return the amulet to the two dwarves. She watches as the other start to come out and says, "Ok, now are we off to the inn?" But as soon as she's about to go she notices the halfling still hasn't come out. "Hey, what did you guys do with Lyra?"
Lyraturns to see Eldringo and is about to follow him, but then Halia calls out to her about the arrangement. The young cleric hesitates for a second, then asks, "Would I need to do that right away? Or can I just take the scrolls and return them filled some other day? I just don't think we'll have the time right now. But if I end my days with without using all my spells, I could try to inscribe them for you."
She pauses, rubbing her chin.
"That will, of course, take me some time. And maybeEldrinwon't even need your scrolls by then—he's very smart and dedicated to his research, you know? But, oh well, you'll simply have three cure wounds scrolls to use however you like. Just promise me you'll use them well, okay? Don’t go handing curing spells to, you know, bad people!"
If Halia accepts the proposal:
Lyra extends a hand, and Halia assumes she wants to close the deal with a handshake. But then Lyra holds out her pinky finger and says, "Pinky swear! No handing the scrolls to bad people, okay?" She'll then grab the scrolls hastily and, hide them in her backpack.
If Halia doesn't accept the proposal:
"Ohhh. Well, maybe next time! Thank you for your time anyway"
Either way, Lyra gives Halia a quick wave goodbye and runs off to catch up with her friends. She moves so quickly that she nearly stomps on Meirajust as the she is asking about her. "I'm here—sorry! Got a little distracted. So, drink and food, please?"
As you reunite outside the Miner's Exchange, the sun is high in the sky and provides pleasant warmth as you make your way to the Stonehill Inn. However, occasional gusts of cold air flow from the East, pushing ever-increasing cloud cover.
You see Toblin's friendly face as you enter the Inn. "Hello, Masters! Welcome back, welcome back! Please have a seat, and I'll bring you some food. You have perfect timing; we have a wonderful lunch option freshly prepared." His gaze lands on Eldrin, and he adds, "Not to worry, my elven master. I think I've got just the thing for you, too!" He excitedly shuffles off to the kitchen.
A small fire burns in the hearth, giving the room the smell of smoke that mingles with the scent of fresh bread and herb-crusted chicken that wafts out of the kitchen. It is a welcome respite for the group. Only a few townsfolk are scattered about the room, sitting at various tables, eating and chatting.
Lyra, Please give me a persuasion/deception check whichever fits better with your proposal.
She's being honest, for once, so I've chosen Persuasion.
That being said, she rolled a 5+2=7. Then I remembered you gave me a d20 roll (though I cannot remember why). In any case the reroll was a 7+2 total, so... 👎🏻
Halia listens respectfully to your proposal and begins to laugh. It's not a mocking laugh, but one from someone who genuinely thinks you're joking. "That's funny! Good one." Once she realizes you're not, she says flatly, "I don't give items away without compensation." Her smile now gone. As you turn to leave, she adds, "Have a good day!"
Gareth greets the innkeeper with a smile. "Thank you, Master Toblin. A hot meal sounds wonderful right about now."
The ranger chooses a round table with enough space for the whole party to sit. Then he orders a cup of tea while waiting for Toblin to bring their meal. Turning to the rest of his companions, he says, "So we've got a bit more gold in our pockets now and several new jobs on offer from the mayor, not to mention we still need to warn those gnomes. What's everyone thinking for where we should go next? We do need to warn the gnomes, but it sounds like this Big Al fellow is in trouble. I think we should see if he's still alive and help him if we can."
Eldrin enters the inn with the rest of the group, his stride more deliberate than usual, posture straightened as though by sheer force of will, embarrassment still lingering faintly beneath his composed exterior. The warm scent of bread and chicken mingling with the fire’s smoke does much to soften the tension in his shoulders.
At Toblin’s enthusiastic welcome, Eldrin manages the faintest curve of a smile and a small nod of gratitude, his fingers briefly brushing the spine of his spellbook as if for reassurance.
He takes a seat at the table with the others, folding his cloak neatly over his lap, gaze momentarily distant as Gareth speaks.
“Agreed,” he says quietly, "If Big Al is alive, we buy goodwill with the town by saving him, and goodwill opens doors to further information, allies, and supplies. The mayor may not be particularly bold, but his gratitude may yet be useful.”
He leans forward, folding his hands together. “One other thing. Halia Thornton has an interest in Thundertree. Promised coin and a battle axe known by the name of Hew, if we investigate.”
He turns his attention to the others, meeting eyes one by one. “But I’m not the leader here. Just offering the scholar’s perspective."
He lets that sit a moment, grateful, at least for now, to be out of merchant halls and within walls that smell of food.
"Ah, there you are Lyra!" Meira says as the halfling almost runs into her. "Distracted?" she murmurs, then agrees loudly. "Yes! Food and drink!"
She moves with the others to the Stonehill Inn and greets Toblin with a smile. Inside, she finds a seat, asking for a child drink as they wait for food. "Yea, there's a lot of options. It does seem like alerting the gnomes is important. As is checking that ranch invaded by orcs." She glances at Gareth as her words basically echo his suggestion.
"We can tackle those then think about the rest. Though I wonder if some might be along our path anyway." She looks over at Eldrin. "Think Thundertree is quite far off. But maybe after we get this other stuff done."
Gnomengarde Quest. “A clan of reclusive rock gnomes resides in a small network of caves in the mountains to the southeast. The gnomes of Gnomengarde are known for their magical inventions, and they might have something with which to defeat the dragon. Get whatever you can from them. If you bring back something useful and don’t want to keep it for yourselves, Townmaster Harbin Wester will pay you 50 gp for it.”
Butterskull Ranch Quest. “Orcs have attacked Butterskull Ranch, five miles east of Conyberry along the Triboar Trail! Travel there with haste, assess the damage, and help any way you can. Ranch owner Alfonse “Big Al” Kalazorn is a retired sheriff who can reward you for your efforts. If he’s dead, return to Townmaster Harbin Wester with proof of Kalazorn’s demise to receive a reward of 100 gp.”
Loggers’ Camp Quest. “Deep in Neverwinter Wood, along the river that flows west toward Neverwinter, is a logging camp. Every two months, Phandalin delivers fresh supplies to the camp, which is run by the half-brother of Phandalin’s townmaster, Harbin Wester. Barthen, the local provisioner, has prepared a new delivery. He needs someone to bear the supplies safely to the camp. Return to Harbin Wester with a notice of delivery signed by his half-brother, Tibor Wester, to claim your reward of 100 gp.”
Mountain’s Toe Quest. “The Mountain’s Toe Gold Mine lies fifteen miles northeast of Phandalin. The new overseer, Don-Jon Raskin, just made the trip from Neverwinter to Phandalin and needs to be escorted to the mine. There’s no telling what dangers lie between here and there. Once you deliver Raskin safe and sound, return to Townmaster Harbin Wester to collect a reward of 100 gp.”
Thundertree Quest. Halia said, "An associate of mine went to the ruins of Thundertree in the Neverwinter Woods to search for a battleaxe known by the name of Hew. It's said to have magical properties. You'll know it if you find it. I'm interested in that battleaxe. If you find out what happened to my associate, I'll throw in a bonus. His name is Bruno and he's been gone for several days now. The idiot probably just got lost in the woods. Here is the location of Thundertree." Thundertree lies roughly ten miles West of the Loggers' camp.
There is a map of the Sword Coast region in the campaign home page in case you wish to tackle more than one at a time.
Rumors heard:
“Some folk claim to have seen a dragon flying through the high clouds. At that distance, it’s hard to gauge the creature’s size, but some say it’s as big as an elephant and has gleaming white scales.”
“As the Triboar Trail runs east, it passes through the ruins of Conyberry, a town sacked by barbarians years ago. There’s a ruined temple south of Conyberry where it’s said the locals hid their gold.”
As the group sits down to rest and discuss future plans, a barmaid comes out to take drink orders. She's a younger human girl with auburn hair and freckles who wears a yellow sundress under a black apron. She quickly brings out your drink orders and withdraws.
Shortly after, Toblin returns with warm plates of food. He passes out sourdough bread bowls filled with thick broccoli and cheese soup, herb-crusted roast chicken breasts, and a platter of fresh fruits. To Eldrin, he gives you a fresh Waldorf salad, a combination of celery, apples, walnuts, grapes, lettuce, and mayonnaise. While it's clear Toblin is excited for you to try it, the salad's presentation is a bit lacking. Toblin doesn't have a knack for artistic food, and it shows. "There you go, masters. Let me know if there is anything else I can get for you." He stands there a moment longer watching and waiting for Eldrin to try his salad, before growing embarrassed and retreating behind the bar.
Across the room, you overhear bits of a conversation playing out between an older man with dark skin, wearing a large cowboy hat and another younger man wearing farming attire. You hear the farmer say, “Once again, the orcs have come down from the mountains to prey on the lowlands! If Neverwinter doesn’t send help soon, the orcs will overrun Phandalin and destroy everything we’ve worked so hard to rebuild.” The other man begins regaling the younger man with grandiose tales about fighting orcs and slaying hundreds of them, one after another.
Eldrin offers a courteous nod as the barmaid takes their orders and withdraws, then sits with quiet poise as the food arrives. When Toblin places the salad before him, Eldrin regards it as commendable in effort, if imperfect in execution.
“Thank you, Master Toblin,” he says, the tone carefully measured to neither injure nor falsely flatter. Picking up a fork, he takes a bite and gives an appreciative nod. “Crisp. Refreshing. Quite fitting.” His words carry sincerity, and despite the awkwardness of the presentation, the fact that the innkeeper took the time to prepare something tailored to him does not go unnoticed.
The word orcs strikes him as the conversation across the room catches his ear.
Without taking his eyes fully from his companions, he murmurs, “It seems we are not the only ones pondering the threats beyond the hills."
He takes another careful bite of his salad, less for hunger now than for formality’s sake, and then glances to the others.
“Do we investigate this next or keep to our present course? Either way, the world appears determined not to let us dine in peace.”
Zephyros steadily sits down after his companions do.
Massaging his neck and blinking a few times- a clear sigh of exhaustion- he thanks the maid and Toblin for their effort to make Ironheart and his friends comfortable.
"Thank you lass,"Zephyros then shifts his tired gaze to Toblin. "I thank you once again, Mr. Toblin."
After quickly looking all around the room, he rapidly scarfs down his meal.
Wiping his mouth, he motions to Eldrin.
"Aye, the world certainly laughs at the term peace."
"Well..." The soldier briefly yawns, covering his mouth. "If their 'issue' is corelated to our tasks, we can at least see if we can offer our assistance."
Lyra waves happily to Toblin as the party enters the tavern, and she begins to eat and drink as soon as the barmaid brings everything to the table. While the others speak of plans, she listens—sort of. Her attention drifts now and then, though she's still taking note of what's being said.
She glances at Eldrin and wishes she's had been able to convince Halia about the scrolls. Then her gaze shifts to Zephyros, noticing how tired he looks. Her brown eyes land on his trident, and she finds herself wondering what effect the spark had on it. She's curious—so curious—but also knows she probably won't ask about it in a million years.
Drawn back to the conversation, and now nearly finished with her food, she looks at the map and mumbles, "But going to Neverwinter to convince them to send help is going to take forever, right? Look, it's super far. And… do you think they'll even listen to us? It’s not like we're famous or anything."
She points to Gnomegarde. "This is super close to Phandalin." Then she traces the road with her rather small index finger, leading toward Conyberry and Butterskull Ranch. "And, see here. Corny… what was that again? Cornyberry? Ah—Cony. Conyberry! That's right next to the ranch. So why don't we go to Gnomegarde first, then the ranch? And after that, we could decide if we want to check out that temple Halia mentioned—just south of Conyberry—or that thing about the axe, or… something else."
She pauses thoughtfully. "Maybe if we do a bit of all that, then we can think about asking Neverwinter for help?"
Meiralooks over the feast of food, almost not sure what to try first. She knows it's far more than she needs herself. She starts with the soup, eating it slowly and savoring the taste. As she eats, she considers the tasks to choose from. "It does seem like getting to the ranch the orcs attacked may be the one where time might matter. The gnomes could of course be attacked unaware by the dragon. But they might not and are kind of in the opposite direction! Probably should have gone there before coming back here." She gives a bit of a shrug, aware that decision has already been made and cannot be changed now. "That Don-Jon that wants an escort is kind of on the way to the ranch. Though who knows how long that might take if time is of the essence. And Corny..." She looks at Lyra as she had corrected the name. "Um, Conyberry would be up that way too." She falls silent for a moment, giving others a chance to speak. Meanwhile she takes a very small portion of the roast chicken breast and tastes some of that.
The meal you enjoy pleases the senses immensely after a night with the bickering dwarves and eating road rashions for a day. Toblin seems very pleased with Eldrin'sreaction to the food and seems to have a pep in his step because of it.
The conversation between the cowboy and the farmer finishes with the farmer rushing out the door to carryout the days tasks. The cowboy moves to the bar and orders a whiskey on the rocks. Toblin obliges with a comment, "Starting a bit early huh?" The cowboy smiles and laughs, "Starting? I never finished!"
[[OOC: I'll let the conversation between the group continue until a consensus is reached on where to go next. Also, the afternoon is yours! Phandalin awaits you. When lunch is over, you can do as you please around town.]]
Zephyros looks to Lyra and says, "I don't think a trip to Neverwinter is on the agenda anytime soon. Too much to do around here at the moment." Turning to Meira he adds, "I don't think the Gnomes have much to fear from a dragon attack, tucked away in their mountain hideout as they are. You all know my mind. I said it at the job board. These Orcs must be dealt with. It sounds like they are the most pressing issue, even the locals are talking about a possible attack on Phandalin. I suppose we could make time to escort this Don fellow."
Zephyros finishes his food and gets up from the table. Before he walks away, he turns back to Eldrinto say, "I'm in no rush to help Halia recover anything. Thundertree can wait." 'Forever for all I care', he adds to himself in his head. The bull of a man walks over to the bar. Aware he's missed his opportunity to talk to the farmer he decides to talk with the cowboy instead. "Excuse me, sir. I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with that farmer. Trouble with Orcs is it? Might we be able to assist."
The armored warrior leans against the bar to avoid having to hold his own weight up. He stifles a yawn suddenly worried this man would think Zephyros uninterested in what he has to say.
The grey bearded cowboy turns to you after taking a deep pull from his whiskey. "Oh I don't know a single Orc that ever gave me trouble." He stands straight up as he watches you lean against the bar and turns his entire body towards you. With a whiskey in one hand he uses the other to pull his large hat down as he nods at you. "Names Don, Don Jon Raskin, but you can just call me Don. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with this fine afternoon?"
Image of Don in the spoiler:
After introductions, Don tells you his story. How he's waiting for an escort to Mountain's Toe Gold Mine he's been hired to oversee. How his employers have insisted on hiring an escort even though he's sure he can handle himself. He begins telling you about a particularly exciting exploit of his where he singlehandedly took on an army of goblins. "The green little buggers never stood a chance... anyways." He finishes his whiskey and orders another. "Mighty fine trident you got there Zephyros. I don't suppose you and your friends there would be up for a little stroll over to the mine so I can get to work would ya?"
Zephyros looks at Meira, then glances at Gareth, who both suggest holding on to the amulet and saving it from the dwarves.
"Very well," The veteran briefly sighs. "The dwarves may have what dwarves have made, then."
Zephyros also heads out the doorway.
The insightful soldier then looks to the sky and ponders about the transaction, and wonders if he made the right call.
Zephyros tilts his head and nods.
"A good name is to be chosen over great wealth; favor is better than silver and gold."
Subtly smiling, Zephyros turns and patiently awaits his friends.
Halia watches as both Zephyros and Eldrin exit the exchange then turns to Lyra and asks, "Well, do we have an agreement? Your time and energy in exchange for the spell scroll."
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights.
Meira nods as Zephyros decides to just return the amulet to the two dwarves. She watches as the other start to come out and says, "Ok, now are we off to the inn?" But as soon as she's about to go she notices the halfling still hasn't come out. "Hey, what did you guys do with Lyra?"
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
If Halia doesn't accept the proposal:
"Ohhh. Well, maybe next time! Thank you for your time anyway"
Either way, Lyra gives Halia a quick wave goodbye and runs off to catch up with her friends. She moves so quickly that she nearly stomps on Meira just as the she is asking about her. "I'm here—sorry! Got a little distracted. So, drink and food, please?"
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Lyra, Please give me a persuasion/deception check whichever fits better with your proposal.
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights.
Everyone,
As you reunite outside the Miner's Exchange, the sun is high in the sky and provides pleasant warmth as you make your way to the Stonehill Inn. However, occasional gusts of cold air flow from the East, pushing ever-increasing cloud cover.
You see Toblin's friendly face as you enter the Inn. "Hello, Masters! Welcome back, welcome back! Please have a seat, and I'll bring you some food. You have perfect timing; we have a wonderful lunch option freshly prepared." His gaze lands on Eldrin, and he adds, "Not to worry, my elven master. I think I've got just the thing for you, too!" He excitedly shuffles off to the kitchen.
A small fire burns in the hearth, giving the room the smell of smoke that mingles with the scent of fresh bread and herb-crusted chicken that wafts out of the kitchen. It is a welcome respite for the group. Only a few townsfolk are scattered about the room, sitting at various tables, eating and chatting.
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights.
She's being honest, for once, so I've chosen Persuasion.
That being said, she rolled a 5+2=7. Then I remembered you gave me a d20 roll (though I cannot remember why). In any case the reroll was a 7+2 total, so... 👎🏻
(Alas, not a good day for wizards nor clerics)
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Lyra,
Halia listens respectfully to your proposal and begins to laugh. It's not a mocking laugh, but one from someone who genuinely thinks you're joking. "That's funny! Good one." Once she realizes you're not, she says flatly, "I don't give items away without compensation." Her smile now gone. As you turn to leave, she adds, "Have a good day!"
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights.
Gareth greets the innkeeper with a smile. "Thank you, Master Toblin. A hot meal sounds wonderful right about now."
The ranger chooses a round table with enough space for the whole party to sit. Then he orders a cup of tea while waiting for Toblin to bring their meal. Turning to the rest of his companions, he says, "So we've got a bit more gold in our pockets now and several new jobs on offer from the mayor, not to mention we still need to warn those gnomes. What's everyone thinking for where we should go next? We do need to warn the gnomes, but it sounds like this Big Al fellow is in trouble. I think we should see if he's still alive and help him if we can."
Extended Signature
Characters: Bryony Alderleaf (Phandelver and Below) ♦ Vesta Trevelyan (Vecna: Eve of Ruin) ♦ Ada Kendrick (Curse of Strahd) ♦ Gareth Blackwood (Dragon of Icespire Peak) ♦ Karys Velthune (Out of the Abyss) ♦ Surina Xarith (Simple, Heroic Adventure)
DM: Baldur's Gate: Descent Into Avernus
Eldrin enters the inn with the rest of the group, his stride more deliberate than usual, posture straightened as though by sheer force of will, embarrassment still lingering faintly beneath his composed exterior. The warm scent of bread and chicken mingling with the fire’s smoke does much to soften the tension in his shoulders.
At Toblin’s enthusiastic welcome, Eldrin manages the faintest curve of a smile and a small nod of gratitude, his fingers briefly brushing the spine of his spellbook as if for reassurance.
He takes a seat at the table with the others, folding his cloak neatly over his lap, gaze momentarily distant as Gareth speaks.
“Agreed,” he says quietly, "If Big Al is alive, we buy goodwill with the town by saving him, and goodwill opens doors to further information, allies, and supplies. The mayor may not be particularly bold, but his gratitude may yet be useful.”
He leans forward, folding his hands together. “One other thing. Halia Thornton has an interest in Thundertree. Promised coin and a battle axe known by the name of Hew, if we investigate.”
He turns his attention to the others, meeting eyes one by one. “But I’m not the leader here. Just offering the scholar’s perspective."
He lets that sit a moment, grateful, at least for now, to be out of merchant halls and within walls that smell of food.
"Ah, there you are Lyra!" Meira says as the halfling almost runs into her. "Distracted?" she murmurs, then agrees loudly. "Yes! Food and drink!"
She moves with the others to the Stonehill Inn and greets Toblin with a smile. Inside, she finds a seat, asking for a child drink as they wait for food. "Yea, there's a lot of options. It does seem like alerting the gnomes is important. As is checking that ranch invaded by orcs." She glances at Gareth as her words basically echo his suggestion.
"We can tackle those then think about the rest. Though I wonder if some might be along our path anyway." She looks over at Eldrin. "Think Thundertree is quite far off. But maybe after we get this other stuff done."
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
Reposting active quests to refresh the memory:
Gnomengarde Quest. “A clan of reclusive rock gnomes resides in a small network of caves in the mountains to the southeast. The gnomes of Gnomengarde are known for their magical inventions, and they might have something with which to defeat the dragon. Get whatever you can from them. If you bring back something useful and don’t want to keep it for yourselves, Townmaster Harbin Wester will pay you 50 gp for it.”
Butterskull Ranch Quest. “Orcs have attacked Butterskull Ranch, five miles east of Conyberry along the Triboar Trail! Travel there with haste, assess the damage, and help any way you can. Ranch owner Alfonse “Big Al” Kalazorn is a retired sheriff who can reward you for your efforts. If he’s dead, return to Townmaster Harbin Wester with proof of Kalazorn’s demise to receive a reward of 100 gp.”
Loggers’ Camp Quest. “Deep in Neverwinter Wood, along the river that flows west toward Neverwinter, is a logging camp. Every two months, Phandalin delivers fresh supplies to the camp, which is run by the half-brother of Phandalin’s townmaster, Harbin Wester. Barthen, the local provisioner, has prepared a new delivery. He needs someone to bear the supplies safely to the camp. Return to Harbin Wester with a notice of delivery signed by his half-brother, Tibor Wester, to claim your reward of 100 gp.”
Mountain’s Toe Quest. “The Mountain’s Toe Gold Mine lies fifteen miles northeast of Phandalin. The new overseer, Don-Jon Raskin, just made the trip from Neverwinter to Phandalin and needs to be escorted to the mine. There’s no telling what dangers lie between here and there. Once you deliver Raskin safe and sound, return to Townmaster Harbin Wester to collect a reward of 100 gp.”
Thundertree Quest. Halia said, "An associate of mine went to the ruins of Thundertree in the Neverwinter Woods to search for a battleaxe known by the name of Hew. It's said to have magical properties. You'll know it if you find it. I'm interested in that battleaxe. If you find out what happened to my associate, I'll throw in a bonus. His name is Bruno and he's been gone for several days now. The idiot probably just got lost in the woods. Here is the location of Thundertree." Thundertree lies roughly ten miles West of the Loggers' camp.
There is a map of the Sword Coast region in the campaign home page in case you wish to tackle more than one at a time.
Rumors heard:
“Some folk claim to have seen a dragon flying through the high clouds. At that distance, it’s hard to gauge the creature’s size, but some say it’s as big as an elephant and has gleaming white scales.”
“As the Triboar Trail runs east, it passes through the ruins of Conyberry, a town sacked by barbarians years ago. There’s a ruined temple south of Conyberry where it’s said the locals hid their gold.”
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights.
As the group sits down to rest and discuss future plans, a barmaid comes out to take drink orders. She's a younger human girl with auburn hair and freckles who wears a yellow sundress under a black apron. She quickly brings out your drink orders and withdraws.
Shortly after, Toblin returns with warm plates of food. He passes out sourdough bread bowls filled with thick broccoli and cheese soup, herb-crusted roast chicken breasts, and a platter of fresh fruits. To Eldrin, he gives you a fresh Waldorf salad, a combination of celery, apples, walnuts, grapes, lettuce, and mayonnaise. While it's clear Toblin is excited for you to try it, the salad's presentation is a bit lacking. Toblin doesn't have a knack for artistic food, and it shows. "There you go, masters. Let me know if there is anything else I can get for you." He stands there a moment longer watching and waiting for Eldrin to try his salad, before growing embarrassed and retreating behind the bar.
Across the room, you overhear bits of a conversation playing out between an older man with dark skin, wearing a large cowboy hat and another younger man wearing farming attire. You hear the farmer say, “Once again, the orcs have come down from the mountains to prey on the lowlands! If Neverwinter doesn’t send help soon, the orcs will overrun Phandalin and destroy everything we’ve worked so hard to rebuild.” The other man begins regaling the younger man with grandiose tales about fighting orcs and slaying hundreds of them, one after another.
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights.
Eldrin offers a courteous nod as the barmaid takes their orders and withdraws, then sits with quiet poise as the food arrives. When Toblin places the salad before him, Eldrin regards it as commendable in effort, if imperfect in execution.
“Thank you, Master Toblin,” he says, the tone carefully measured to neither injure nor falsely flatter. Picking up a fork, he takes a bite and gives an appreciative nod. “Crisp. Refreshing. Quite fitting.” His words carry sincerity, and despite the awkwardness of the presentation, the fact that the innkeeper took the time to prepare something tailored to him does not go unnoticed.
The word orcs strikes him as the conversation across the room catches his ear.
Without taking his eyes fully from his companions, he murmurs, “It seems we are not the only ones pondering the threats beyond the hills."
He takes another careful bite of his salad, less for hunger now than for formality’s sake, and then glances to the others.
“Do we investigate this next or keep to our present course? Either way, the world appears determined not to let us dine in peace.”
Zephyros steadily sits down after his companions do.
Massaging his neck and blinking a few times- a clear sigh of exhaustion- he thanks the maid and Toblin for their effort to make Ironheart and his friends comfortable.
"Thank you lass," Zephyros then shifts his tired gaze to Toblin. "I thank you once again, Mr. Toblin."
After quickly looking all around the room, he rapidly scarfs down his meal.
Wiping his mouth, he motions to Eldrin.
"Aye, the world certainly laughs at the term peace."
"Well..." The soldier briefly yawns, covering his mouth. "If their 'issue' is corelated to our tasks, we can at least see if we can offer our assistance."
Lyra waves happily to Toblin as the party enters the tavern, and she begins to eat and drink as soon as the barmaid brings everything to the table. While the others speak of plans, she listens—sort of. Her attention drifts now and then, though she's still taking note of what's being said.
She glances at Eldrin and wishes she's had been able to convince Halia about the scrolls. Then her gaze shifts to Zephyros, noticing how tired he looks. Her brown eyes land on his trident, and she finds herself wondering what effect the spark had on it. She's curious—so curious—but also knows she probably won't ask about it in a million years.
Drawn back to the conversation, and now nearly finished with her food, she looks at the map and mumbles, "But going to Neverwinter to convince them to send help is going to take forever, right? Look, it's super far. And… do you think they'll even listen to us? It’s not like we're famous or anything."
She points to Gnomegarde. "This is super close to Phandalin." Then she traces the road with her rather small index finger, leading toward Conyberry and Butterskull Ranch. "And, see here. Corny… what was that again? Cornyberry? Ah—Cony. Conyberry! That's right next to the ranch. So why don't we go to Gnomegarde first, then the ranch? And after that, we could decide if we want to check out that temple Halia mentioned—just south of Conyberry—or that thing about the axe, or… something else."
She pauses thoughtfully. "Maybe if we do a bit of all that, then we can think about asking Neverwinter for help?"
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Meira looks over the feast of food, almost not sure what to try first. She knows it's far more than she needs herself. She starts with the soup, eating it slowly and savoring the taste. As she eats, she considers the tasks to choose from. "It does seem like getting to the ranch the orcs attacked may be the one where time might matter. The gnomes could of course be attacked unaware by the dragon. But they might not and are kind of in the opposite direction! Probably should have gone there before coming back here." She gives a bit of a shrug, aware that decision has already been made and cannot be changed now. "That Don-Jon that wants an escort is kind of on the way to the ranch. Though who knows how long that might take if time is of the essence. And Corny..." She looks at Lyra as she had corrected the name. "Um, Conyberry would be up that way too." She falls silent for a moment, giving others a chance to speak. Meanwhile she takes a very small portion of the roast chicken breast and tastes some of that.
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Liivi Orav, Barbarian || Vanizi, Warlock || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard
Iromae Quinaea, Cleric || Roxana Raincrest, Rogue || Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer
Adventurers,
The meal you enjoy pleases the senses immensely after a night with the bickering dwarves and eating road rashions for a day. Toblin seems very pleased with Eldrin's reaction to the food and seems to have a pep in his step because of it.
The conversation between the cowboy and the farmer finishes with the farmer rushing out the door to carryout the days tasks. The cowboy moves to the bar and orders a whiskey on the rocks. Toblin obliges with a comment, "Starting a bit early huh?" The cowboy smiles and laughs, "Starting? I never finished!"
[[OOC: I'll let the conversation between the group continue until a consensus is reached on where to go next. Also, the afternoon is yours! Phandalin awaits you. When lunch is over, you can do as you please around town.]]
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights.
Zephyros looks to Lyra and says, "I don't think a trip to Neverwinter is on the agenda anytime soon. Too much to do around here at the moment." Turning to Meira he adds, "I don't think the Gnomes have much to fear from a dragon attack, tucked away in their mountain hideout as they are. You all know my mind. I said it at the job board. These Orcs must be dealt with. It sounds like they are the most pressing issue, even the locals are talking about a possible attack on Phandalin. I suppose we could make time to escort this Don fellow."
Zephyros finishes his food and gets up from the table. Before he walks away, he turns back to Eldrin to say, "I'm in no rush to help Halia recover anything. Thundertree can wait." 'Forever for all I care', he adds to himself in his head. The bull of a man walks over to the bar. Aware he's missed his opportunity to talk to the farmer he decides to talk with the cowboy instead. "Excuse me, sir. I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with that farmer. Trouble with Orcs is it? Might we be able to assist."
The armored warrior leans against the bar to avoid having to hold his own weight up. He stifles a yawn suddenly worried this man would think Zephyros uninterested in what he has to say.
Zephyros,
The grey bearded cowboy turns to you after taking a deep pull from his whiskey. "Oh I don't know a single Orc that ever gave me trouble." He stands straight up as he watches you lean against the bar and turns his entire body towards you. With a whiskey in one hand he uses the other to pull his large hat down as he nods at you. "Names Don, Don Jon Raskin, but you can just call me Don. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with this fine afternoon?"
Image of Don in the spoiler:
After introductions, Don tells you his story. How he's waiting for an escort to Mountain's Toe Gold Mine he's been hired to oversee. How his employers have insisted on hiring an escort even though he's sure he can handle himself. He begins telling you about a particularly exciting exploit of his where he singlehandedly took on an army of goblins. "The green little buggers never stood a chance... anyways." He finishes his whiskey and orders another. "Mighty fine trident you got there Zephyros. I don't suppose you and your friends there would be up for a little stroll over to the mine so I can get to work would ya?"
DM for Tyranny of Dragons and Phandelver and Below, two in-person campaigns that meet weekly on Friday and Saturday nights.