Jorin is overjoyed with his new creation.  He explains the knotwork designs and iconography worked into the axehead.  The swirling knots come together on the axehead, ahead of the blade edge, to from a pattern similar to the one mentioned in post 1724.  He speaks of how his forge father, Cebula, would be proud of his this creation.  He wishes to travel to Mithril Hall to show him on his way back home.

He also thanks his companions profusely for thier aid in the crafting process and vows to Pascal to forge his knife as soon as possible, "I have already drawn up the plans my friend, it will be the finest blade in any kitchen, anywhere in Faerûn."

Drusk: "Clearly Lliira was smiling at your efforts, Jorin. The joy in your face is what the Goddess seeks for all of us.

"Since a celebration is in order, I think we should visit the Stag-Horned Flagon at dusk today. That was the tavern that was under repair when we first arrived in Amphail." (post 1235 link ) "They have been open for almost 10 days now, there should be a good crowd with Simril going on, AND I hear that “Rooster” Cinderelm is performing tonight!... Yeah, I've never heard of him either. But I am told he is an elf bard who normally performs in expensive venues in Waterdeep and the Upper City of Baldur's Gate. Sounds like a rare opportunity for high-class entertainment."

Quillary snorts. “I am not enamored of the elves and their music, no matter how High, nor on what, but I will gladly keep your company, and keep you in drinks. I have no use for this much coin,” she jingles her now full purse. “I should like to spend it on friends, no matter how poor their musical choices.”

Hildigrim spends the next few days practicing magic, training with Volo, training, attuning to his new luck stone, and occasionally mentioning he’s looking forward to returning to Waterdeep. Seems he’s feeling a little homesick.

Now that Jorin has finished the work on his axe, the party is eager to return home to the Road's End. After tonight's revelry, a transport to Waterdeep is leaving the next afternoon. A few extra silver will insure a comfortable ride, instead of another trip with Stinky Peat.

Jorin asks Pascal to wait a few more days for his kitchen knife. That work will require some of the tools he left back in his room in the Road's End, and a visit to one of the larger forges in the city. (After what he accomplished with his battle axe, Jorin is more ambitious about his plans for the design of the knife.)

Despite it being the winter solstice, the winter chill and unearthly fogs have finally retreated from Amphail. As the sun is setting, the party is fully rested and walks to the town center. You pass the two monument statues (one of a horse, and one of Amphail Caradoon), and approach the Stag-Horned Flagon. Despite it being closed for repairs recently, the tavern continues to be one of the town’s focal points for new arrivals. It may be run down (even after repairs) and stink of horse even more than the rest of the town, but it’s homey and they don’t ask a lot of questions. And it helps that the food and drink is relatively cheap.

A new military commander, Calypso, arrived a few days ago, and is working to improve security in the town. Rumor has it that Calypso has been cracking down on rampant violence, even going so far as to present aggressors with bills for funerary expenses. This is confirmed as you see a parchment spiked to the door frame of the tavern. With the end of Howldown, adventurers are to avoid killing townspeople, unless they want to pay heavy fees (for the victim's family and town expenses) and funeral expenses. There are other regulations meant to make the town safer for trade and tourism, but the section mentioning funerary expenses is written larger than the rest.

(There is an entrance fee to the tavern, but we'll take care of that later, since the party has enough gold to not worry about it.)

The tavern is about 80' wide east-west and a bit longer north-south. A bar takes up most of the western wall. The kitchen is in the NW corner. The north wall has stairs going up (off-limits except for the tavern owner and staff) and a stage for entertainment. Two 10' wide fireplaces are on the eastern wall. There are a dozen tables, ranging from small 2-seaters in the SW near the bar, round 4-seaters in the middle of the room, a few 6-seater rectangular tables, and a single fancy 10-person dining table in the NE corner near the stage and fireplace.

There are over a dozen patrons inside the tavern, and others outside waiting for your party to clear the front entrance.

(Where does the everyone want to go in the tavern, and did you want to do anything? Drusk will order the first round of drinks.)

Jorin lets loose a loud laugh at Quillary's sentiments on Elvish music and echos her thoughts on wealth, "Aye, coin is for the spending!  And nothing better to spend it on than feasting with friends."

While in Waterdeep, Jorin made it a point to frequent as many different taverns as coin allowed him, so he didn't bat an eye at the state of this one.  He did raise his eyebrows as he read the notice on the door.

"A written warning not to butcher the locals.  They have seen some rough time indeed to have to post such a warning.  We should keep our weapons close and not get too deep into our cups."

He pauses for a moment, surveying his companions, "Well, " he says with a wry smile, "I reckon we could handle ourselves, deep cups or not..." Then strolls in, posting up at the 6-top.  

Quillary chuckles at Jorin. She finds him an amusingly kindred spirit. She clears the entrance in her new cloak, a dark weave with a barely-there swirling pattern reminiscent of smoke or mist. She sweeps it off with a practiced (if passingly elvish) ease, and points to one of the tables for six. “There, I think, enough for us and any new friends we make. Drusk, I would start with something local, if you insist on carrying the first round.” Her normally haunted look is banished by the evening’s prospects, and the presence of new companions. 

(I am going to try to do this as "theater of the mind" instead of a constantly updating map. But you should at least see a layout of the tavern. The red X's will be patrons, later in the evening.)

Hildigrim reads the notice by the front door more carefully, after hearing Jorin's comment. He suspects it isn't that the townfolk are butchering each other left and right, as much as adventurers going through town acting like they can do anything they want without consequence. There are plenty of murders in Waterdeep, but towns near the wilderness often get "murder hobos" causing trouble.

For the rectangular tables, someone is already sitting at the one closest to the fireplace. The party doesn't want the table closest to the stage, which is also close to the drunken group at the large dining table. The party goes to the middle rectangular table. Two other people were trying to claim it, but they are discouraged by Quillary's glare and Jorin playfully tapping the top of his new battleaxe.

Drusk goes to the bar to get a tray-full of mugs with the local brew. He also hands over a few coins to start a tab, and asks for a server to come to the table to take a dinner order.

 As the party is resting in their chairs, a big burly human staggers to your table, leaning on it with an empty mug in his hands. "You.. yure dem, ain't ya?" He looks like a Gladiator, underdressed for the cold, but sweating and slurring his words. (Must have been drinking hard to be this wasted so early in the evening.)

Jorin sits at the table with one arm casually hung over the chair back, the other in his lap, within quick reach of the leather wrapped grip of his axe, "Aye, may be, in any case you have the look of one who needs a seat, join us, friend, and tell us of who you seek."

The guy sways a bit, but stays on his feet. "Seek? Seat? I just checkin' dat you da people... talked about... You don look tough to me... to scare 'way ghosts..." He is now intently staring at his empty mug, trying to figure out where the beer his hiding.

A dwarf walks up to the gladiator, pulling on his arm. The dwarf is clad in leather, and has smooth hand movements similar to Hildigrim. "Pardon the intrusion. A soldier told us about being the best friend with a group of adventurers that would rid Amphail of all its problems, so we were surprised to see the people he was describing... So you really reclaimed Dynnegall, and cleansed the Tarthwood Forest? Very impressive." The dwarf continues pulling on his friend's arm, who remains occupied at staring into his mug.

Pascal adds, “And we got the best tavern in Waterdeep... or at least we will once the renovations are done. But we still got the best food in Waterdeep!”

“Here, big friend,” Quillary takes her mug and offers it to him, standing then and pouring it into his empty one. “I’ve got the second round!” and she weaves her way to the bar. 

Hildigrim stands on his chair and does a slight bow, causing Volo to extend his wings slightly to keep balance on the halfling’s shoulder. “Hildigrim Goodbody —“ He goes on to introduce his friends, speaking a little more to the dwarf than his inebriated friend. ”Pleased to make your acquaintance. I’m a little surprised to hear our reputations have preceded us.”

Quote from DirtyDogP >>

”Pleased to make your acquaintance. I’m a little surprised to hear our reputations have preceded us.”

"There was a high elf guard, pale and kind of weaselly looking. Said there were secrets that he couldn't tell, and then proceeded to talk our ears off. I don't remember his name..."

His gladiator buddy chirps out: "Blark Burp!"

"It wasn't that name, but almost... Anyways, some townspeople said that there were scary ghosts on the streets last night. This elf guard calmed them down by saying there were adventurers who would get rid of all the ghosts in town... He said that he told them (you?) the ritual to rid Dynnegall of a horde of skulks, and then how to free the druid of Tarthwood from her prison... His guard partner, a big female earth genasi, said his big mouth would get them in trouble again, but he kept talking to anyone who would listen."

At the mention of ghosts, Jorin shoots a sidelong smile to Hildigrim saying, "Hey Hildi, a ghost hunt for you."

He then says to Dwarf, "Is there is any truth to the ghost stories?  I would be keen on a chance to swing my new axe!"

Quote from Guiltysparc >>

He then says to Dwarf, "Is there is any truth to the ghost stories?  I would be keen on a chance to swing my new axe!"

Dwarf: "No idea about the ghost stories. You should ask one of the locals. We arrived this afternoon, and are headed for a monster hunt after the Simril celebrations are over. The scariest thing we've encountered in town is a cold breeze when we walked by the Amphail statue on the way to this tavern. (laughs) Well, enjoy the rest of the evening."

He drags the gladiator over to the square table in the SE corner, where a fighter-type in plate armor is waiting for them.

Quillary returns with four new mugs. “Did I hear that dwarf complaining about a cold breeze? Ghosts are merely those stuck, or staying, between here and there. Nature itself is urging them one way or the other. They just need a push, cold breeze or not.”

She settles lightly on her seat, and hands mugs around. “Are we hunting ghosts then?”

Before the others can respond to Quillary, the din of the tavern dies down as the lights are brought low. A brightly-dressed elf steps out on the small stage (along the north wall) as several magical, dancing lights materialize around him. He takes a long draw of his draught, and addresses the crowd: “Are you ready... are you ready... to CELEBRATE?” He takes a moment and runs his fingers along the strings of his hand-held harp, which has seemingly appeared from out of nowhere. The notes are rich and a hush falls across the room.

(OOC: The notes in the "spoiler" describe previous adventure/modules around the town of Phlan in the Moonsea. I will leave them as-is, instead of adapting them to Amphail. You may find them interesting, but it won't affect this adventure if you skip it.)

Despite the heavy content in the song, Rooster (the bard) manages to keep the tone upbeat and lively and even convinces most of the crowd to sing along at times. When the song winds down, he tells the crowd that he needs a moment to catch his breath.

Drusk signals for the waitress to come over. (Quillary already grabbed 4 mugs for the second round.) Giving the waitress a silver coin, he asks about the rumors of ghosts around the town.

She explains that Ampail has always had ghost stories. In particular, years of a glowing plate-mailed fighter that is standing in alleyways, but vanishes when chased. (Hildigrim finds the details of the ghost's description to be very familiar, from post 1235 almost a ten-day earlier.) And with the season of Howldown, children dress up in sheets and mage apprentices play tricks with their cantrips. But for the past 2 days, there has been more gossip about ghostly encounters. Several of these have turned violent: a terrifying figure appears, large as an ogre, smashing carts, striking people hard enough to break bones, then disappearing into the night air. Most people still treat these as made-up tales to scare the gullible, but enough people are worrying that the waitress expects Calypso to take action soon.

The waitress takes away the empty mugs, and continues serving other tables in the hall. The room is filling up, with two dozen patrons (not including your party) already feasting and enjoying the bardic entertainment.

Quillary, who rolled her eyes at the bard and his performance, leans in. “Were we to search out these ghosts, I should like to start by visiting those injured by this ogre ghost.”

"Aye, talking to those who saw the destruction would be a good start." Jorin turns to the waitress and asks, "What sort of action would Calypso take?"