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It’s a sunny day as the party reaches Birakruut with a gentle breeze in the air. The town is set within the forest with livestock and fields intermixed with the woods. The homes are mostly simple, but as you get to the main square they begin to be pieces of art fixed in and amongst the untamed nature of the Silverwood Forest. The sound of bells rings from a shrine.

Most of the locals, by far predominantly lizardfolk, seem to actively avoid you. Closed shutters. Door creaked open to glance only to shut if noticed. Despite the town’s location at a crossroads, it seems clear most do not warm easily to strangers.

There is a bustle with farmers selling livestock and crops with the bleats of goats and clucking of chickens filling the air. Others offer simple trinkets alongside a small store. Some younger lizardfolk test their skills with the javelin off to the side. Under the shade of a tree stand a lizardman and goliath in robes try to speak with any that pass by, though most shrug them off.

In a prominent place of the square, near an official-looking building, stands a board with various notices on it. Requests for odd-man jobs, help wanted for farmhands, and the like. Among them are some notable ones.

Notable Locations in town

Market Grounds (bartering with local goods of the area)
The Scaly Saloon (a tavern/inn)
G&G’s Goods (general store, has most trade goods)
Madame Lestri’s Emporium (herbalist/potionmaker)
Shrine of Semuanya
Woodcutters Guild
Mayor’s Office
Proudhorn Furs (trapping company)
Yvgrilla’s Cuts (butcher shop)
Patty’s Pastries (bakery)
Stalwart Stallions (stable, place for mounts)
Ironheart Forgers (blacksmith)

"There is unrest in the forest, trouble beneath the trees
'Gainst Duka's desolation, we must make inquiries..."

Lyra Ravenscale is at it again.  The gentle not-singing singing.

Her musing melody hums forth, not from her throat, but rather from a gesture with her free hand, as she casts Minor Illusion in lieu of her own voice, while holding a strangely dark harmonica to her mouth for musical accompaniment.  The inky instrument appearing to stain her lips like black lipstick.

The darkness contrasts with Lyra's dirty blonde hair which cascades, partially braided, past and over her slim shoulders, her half-elven ears poking through prominently.  While studded leather armor fits her slender form snugly, as does the small buckler on her off hand, the black warhammer hanging from her belt looks like far too heavy a weapon for her to lift, let alone wield.

She glances at the notices posted on the job board, then back at the quaint town, quirking a smile at her associates.

"Offing an owlbear or trimming a tree.  How... charmingly rustic the employment options on offer are here.  Now the stolen merchandise job strikes a more familiar chord to a city girl.  As do the goliath and lizardfolk soliciting on the corner there.  What say you all?  Where to start?  One thing for sure, we stand out in this place, like halflings at a hill giant convention.  No hiding in plain sight and losing oneself in the crowd like one can in Junut."

Image (sans dark harmonica, shield and warhammer):

Fenric looked around at the stunning green leaves on the trees and listened as they rustled in the wind. He took in the smell of grass and nature around him, and it reminded him so much of what used to be his home. Even here, he was still looked down upon for being different. "Some things never really change, I suppose," he mutters to himself. Despite all the similarities, so much was still so different. The trees were so much bigger, and spread farther apart. The creatures that he saw were not like those in the woods he was raised.

Though it was more obvious his environment had changed, Fenric himself had changed considerably since he left the grove. He kept his shiny, jet black hair short now, rather than long as he once had. He was quite lean, and stood about five and a half feet tall despite having grown a few inches. The only thing that hadn't changed were the things he kept with him; a quarterstaff gifted to him by Archdruid Armarid and his longbow that he had carved himself when he was younger.

He looked over the jobs on the board, then gave his thoughts to the rest of the party.

"I agree with Lyra, it's probably best to start with the missing merchandise. Should be a relatively quick and easy job while we get acquainted with this town."

At 3' 4" tall with a slender build, Zephyr might be mistaken for a gnome if it weren't for the iridescent dragonfly-like wings that sprout from his back through specially-designed studded leather armor.  He looks younger than he is -- all fairies do -- and the two words that best describe his general appearance are "bright" and "cluttered."   Under his studded leather armor, his clothing is a mix of yellow and bright orange.  His impractical shoes, which curl up at the toe, glitter with a dusting of silver.  In addition to his duffel bag, Zephyr has a variety of pouches, pockets, and cases, and all of them seem to be filled with tools, "components," and various knickknacks.  His hair is dark and messy, his face and hands always seem to be stained black, purple, and pink with soot, sap, or some sort of "extract."  He doesn't look like a wizard, but he carries no obvious weapons other than a couple of daggers at his belt and a case full of darts.

On the final leg of their hike, Zephyr was in a good mood.  He alternated between marching along with the group and flying above or beside them.  His incessant chatter varied between impossibly fantastical stories, inane comments, and detailed explanations (e.g., the 21 uses of elderberries, the distinct properties and "magical resonances" of different types of wood, etc.), all delivered with the same interest and enthusiasm.  The only upside is that once Zephyr gets going on a topic, he usually doesn't stop to check whether anyone is still listening until he finishes his topic!

When the party arrives in Birakuut, Zephyr is thankfully absorbed in something that he was whittling at their last rest.  Otherwise, the distractible fairy would probably already have flown off to quiz the lizardmand and goliath in robes.  He finally realizes that they've arrived and flies up to read the notices on the board that Lyra and Fenric are discussing.  He looks doubtful about Fenric's ability to "convince" an owlbear of anything.  "I read a story once of a Fey Lord and Lady whose carriage was drawn by an owlbear," he says brightly, "but I understood that real owlbears were the result of some mad biomancy experiment.  Aren't they supposed to be aggressive and implacable?"

Zephyr says, "This one might be more interesting," pointing with his rod at the message about Shermanleaf.  "I've spoken to trees before, but it's been a long time since one of them responded!"

Lyra glances back and forth between the elven ranger and the fairy tinkerer with a fond grin, bringing her black harmonica up to her mouth once more.

"Save the owlbear or save the tree?
Or indeed do both?  We'll see..."

Turning and leaving her companions to ponder the decision, she saunters blithely over to the large tree under whose shade the robed lizardfolk and goliath are soliciting passers by.  As she draws near, her demeanor becomes more respectful and she offers the pair a small, sincere bow, along with a polite greeting, in Draconic for the lizardfolk and in Giant for the goliath, before proceeding to address them both in Common.

"Mother always admonished me to be careful when speaking with strangers, especially those in cult-like robes, but she can be a real bore sometimes, you know?  So just what is it that no one here seems to wish to speak with either of you about?  I am called Lyra.  New to Birakruut.  Obviously."

Komus walks slowly, a bit behind the rest of the group, pulling his cloaks hood over his head. He's seemingly always tense, ready to react to anything. He scans the area, before approaching the request board. "Hmm... Perhaps we should confront the bandits. The other requests seem more... involved. The owlbear and the treant also probably have more justified motives." He turns away from the board, scans the area again, and then turns back to the party.

[[ Clever with Lyra's poetry. :) ]]

@Lyra

The lizardfolk and goliath look delightfully pleased, not only by your knowledge of Draconic and Giant, but also to have someone interested in what they say. The goliath takes the lead with a smile on his face and returns a greeting of his own in Giant. "Helsingen, Lyra. Am ha nom MazÎn Samek." he gestures to the lizardfolk, "Han ha nom Bror Olbruk."

[[   Used this for creating the Giant sentences. Given the limited vocab, will likely not do much more there. But was fun to give a go at least once.
Translates to, "Welcome, Lyra. I am Elder Samek. And he is Brother Olbruk."  ]]

He then closes his eyes, touches a hand to an amulet around his neck and chants an arcane word as he touches his robes, lighting them with a radiant glow. Opening them once more he continues in Common, "Your mother does indeed sound quite paranoid. I'm glad you have an adventurous spirit." he chuckles and then goes on, "We seek to offer others a foundation in these trying times." He then sighs with disappointment, "Unfortunately many prefer to be adrift in the storm."

Quote from VitusW >>

[[ Clever with Lyra's poetry. :) ]]

@Lyra

The lizardfolk and goliath look delightfully pleased, not only by your knowledge of Draconic and Giant, but also to have someone interested in what they say. The goliath takes the lead with a smile on his face and returns a greeting of his own in Giant. "Helsingen, Lyra. Am ha nom MazÎn Samek." he gestures to the lizardfolk, "Han ha nom Bror Olbruk."

[[   Used this for creating the Giant sentences. Given the limited vocab, will likely not do much more there. But was fun to give a go at least once.
Translates to, "Welcome, Lyra. I am Elder Samek. And he is Brother Olbruk."  ]]

He then closes his eyes, touches a hand to an amulet around his neck and chants an arcane word as he touches his robes, lighting them with a radiant glow. Opening them once more he continues in Common, "Your mother does indeed sound quite paranoid. I'm glad you have an adventurous spirit." he chuckles and then goes on, "We seek to offer others a foundation in these trying times." He then sighs with disappointment, "Unfortunately many prefer to be adrift in the storm."

"Father, father let's pretend
We are born as innocents
Cast into the storm with apple eyes."

As the chords from her dark harmonica fade, a thought wells up from deep within Lyra's soul.  A thought not her own.  Vast wings brush against the bond of her pact.  She senses perhaps... mild amusement?  Near imperceptibly, Lyra's warm brown irises flash to black, then back again.  A trick of the light?

A FOUNDATION IN TRYING TIMES.  INDEED.  LISTEN WELL, LITTLE ONE.  THIS OUGHT TO BE FASCINATING...

Lyra continues as if nothing happened.  In truth, part of her would prefer if it had not.  She smiles brightly at both of the... priests?  Voice respectful.

"Faith to guide one's path?"  She considers the local shrine.  "Speak we now of great Semuanya, Elder Samek?  Or a deity of your giant-kin?"

Elder Samek listens intently as Lyra speaks. As she mentions Semuanya he smile and shakes his head. Affecting a fatherly tone he responds, "Not Semuanya, little one. Semuanya is only god to lizardfolk. But where Semuanya's patronage is limited, Jaab Razuul's strengthening arms embrace all." He draws his hands to his amulet and displays it to Lyra. Upon it is inscribed the image of a candle flame below a moon. As he shifts it the image changes in the light with the flame of the candle igniting the moon into a sun. "My life was a moon before I was introduced to Jaab Razuul. No more than a pale reflection. But his teaching gave me a candle. And from that candlelight I have turned the moon of my life into a blazing sun."