Dragon of Icespire Peak ***CLOSED***

Vaxis will follow closely behind Minsys, just in case the locals don't take kindly to him.

Upon seeing everyone getting ready for the trip to Triboar, Tabesha'l snaps out of her reverie. She looks up towards Vaxis and answers the dragonborn: 

" Why, I do thank thee for thy concern, Friend Vaxis, I am quite alright, I just... have a few things on my mind, yet that is nothing to be worried about. I shall be back shortly."

With that, she quickly goes upstairs and gathers her things, before joining the others on their way out the door. As Big Al bids them farewell, she lightly puts one of her hands on his and smiles warmly: " Threned Erieth, Al Kalazorn. It is good thou art alive, May Fortune Smile On Thee... and on Fair Petunia. Mayhaps we shall all visit thee again one day ? Thy hospitality was truly something we shall cherish on yon dusty roads. Please accept our gratitude. Farewell, now."

She takes one long look at where the charred remains of the orcs have turned to blackened bones and greasy ashes, sighs while throwing a hard stare towards the south-west, then joins the rest of the group.

** Portents for the day are as follow: 12 and 6 . **

Big Al helps Minsys with packing the saddle bags with enough grain to feed the horses for three days. “You’ll have to find them water along the way, I’m afraid. Shouldn’t be too difficult though, they usually just drink from the mud puddles along the way,”

He gives Tabesha’l a humble smile, “Glad to have enjoyed your company, fair elf. Please do say stop and say hello on your way back though, if indeed the Fates lead your path in this direction. Hope ye get some use out of that old dusty spellbook.”

As the party sets off, Big Al watches them as they go until their silhouettes disappear over the first hill a few hundred yards from the farmhouse.

The party’s journey through the hills and grasslands of the Triboar Trail is uneventful. At noon on their third day, they approach a the pleasant hamlet of Triboar. A sturdy palisade wall surrounds the settlement, but the gates are open and a young lad, barely of military age wearing a watchman’s uniform and clutching a spear gives them a careful nod as they approach. Vaxis catches him staring, but nothing more.

The streets are alive with activity. People bustle to and fro, mostly of human descent, but several dwarves and halflings are spotted as well. Connak even thinks he may caught a brief glimpse of the swishing tail of a tiefling child.

About 75 feet inside the portal stands a wooden signboard with a description of the notable businesses in Triboar:

Connak watches the larger town of Triboar, with all the bustling people milling about.  Anyone watching his expression would believe he seems saddened to leave the wilderness to be entering into such a town.  He wanders over to the others, "I did my job getting us here.  Tabesha'l can do her thing and see what the locals know about where the 'X' is on that map.  There's a board over there with the names of various shops and businesses, if you have anything to buy or sell."  Then he falls in behind Vaxis, trying to hide in the dragonborn's shadow.  He clutches his coin purse in one hand, and watches his friends purses intently.

Minsys pats the horses and joins the others.  "We have three horses.  Do we keep em all or sell one or two?  Sellin one would give us enough for supplies."

Tabesha'l joins the conversation, giving Connak a guarded look before saying:

" I daresay I knoweth not of horses, brave Minsys. But one thing we could also decide amongst ourselves is where to find men - guides ! - capable of giving us more information on not only the dangers to be found in yonder orc territories, but also the nature of the mysterious 'X' mark on our newfound map... as well as some other important pieces of lore we could be needing on our endeavours. After all, that was the main purpose of our visit here, and Master Kalazorn did give us some advice on how to find said-guides, did he not ? Oh and... so very sorry to insist  again on this, but I would positively adore  the possibility of having a warm bath, at long last ! This 'Northshield House ' doeth sound like an establishment of some repute, I would be inclined to visit it first..."

Ando holds up the Big Al's letter of introduction. "As for a guide Big Al recommended we hunt out Mordecai Fartheen and check The Talking Troll first. Perhaps I go talk to him and others can arrange for lodging?" Ando pauses and looks to Minsys, "Although he also mentioned that you'd be a good fit there, so maybe the two of us go sell the horses first and then seek him out? Between a ranch and a pony park we should find someone willing to buy them."

Vaxis notices Connak behind him and nods solemnly. He looks to Ando.

"I am having agreement. We should take this map immediately to this Mordecai fellow. I will travel with you. Minsys, you seem adept with the horses, perhaps you and Connak can see to them? Tabesha'l, can you see about lodging? That would also give you the opportunity to bask in the bath for a moment while we conclude our business."

He then looks off to the right, to an entity no one else can see.

"And hush, you have been prattling on all day, I am having headache from you."

Connak takes directions from Vaxis and heads off with Minsys and the horses.

Tanesha'l nods. " Very well, I shall inquire as to our available options for decent or even half-decent lodgings and convene with thee all in the Talking Troll in about two hours time. Praytell, how much funds do we dispose of as a group, so that I can properly budget our stay in yon quaint farmers' town ? And how many nights would we wish to stay ? I don't think we needeth to witness more than one or two settings of the sun to conclude our business, although one must always be prepared for unexpected eventualities."

Tabesha’l makes her way through town towards Northshield House. On her way, the townsfolk take notice of the presence of the elf, since none reside in Triboar. Her regal stature and graceful glide through the city streets seems to silently convey her nobility to those around her, and many are quick to step out of her path, remove their hats or acknowledge her with a sheepish grin and quiet greeting as she passes by. Arriving at her destination, she finds it is a fine local inn — stately, clean, and quiet. A male human is sitting on a stool behind a small desk reading a copy of the town paper, and nearly falls off his perch when he double-takes at the spectacle of the elvish visitor who has just entered his establishment. Three mastiffs are asleep on the floor in the adjacent common room.

Minsys and Connak easily find the Happy Horse Ranch in the southwestern corner of Triboar. They spot numerous horses of similar coloring and build to the three they are guiding along. As they get closer, they see three human males busy with the chores of husbandry: bailing hay, cleaning out enclosures, saddling horses, etc. One of the hands notices their approach as he releases a bale of hay into a large manger. He takes a pause from his duties to come forward and greet Connak and Minsys.

Ando and Vaxis are having some difficulty locating the Talking Troll. The establishment’s entry on the signboard near the city gate had “Under new management” scribbled out next to it. The map showed that the Talking Troll should be located at the northern end of town along the city’s main thoroughfare, but when Ando and Vaxis arrive, they find no marquee or signage with the name “Talking Troll” on it. They see a ramshackle two-story building that looks as though the upper floor had caught fire some time ago. To the south of this building is an obvious mercantile store with many people coming and going out of it. Across the street is another vacant-looking building, the yard a riot of weeds and numerous vermin seen scurrying in and out of broken windows.

Minsys approaches the young man and raises his hand, "Ello, you the horse guy?  Big Al from the skull butter farm send us this way. Said ta come find ya as he got his horses here, these horses.  Gave em to me cause we killed off orcs from his land and saved his cow."  He pauses for the man to take in his words and respond.

Ando looks around. "Appears the Talking Troll has gone through some hard times. I suppose Big Al hasn't visited Triboar in quite some time. It's certainly not that one" pointing to the mercantile store, "so let's try the one with the fire." He strides over to the building with the burned out 2nd floor and walks in, assuming he can find a working door.

A human male of about 35 years offers his hand to Minsys and introduces himself: “Aldo Karnveller...so you know the sheriff, huh? I recognize his brand on their hindquarter there,” says the man as he runs his hand across the letters “BAK” on the horse’s rear flank. “I remember these horses,” he continues, “...the wild bunch, we called them. The stud that sired each of our colts that year was some Maztican exotic breed we got from a tabaxi trader that trying to . Sheriff Kalazorn bought four of them if I’m not mistaken. Do you, uh, work for him or something over at the, uh...skull-butter-farm?”

Ando and Vaxis find the single solid wooden door to the building unlocked. Upon entering the establishment, it does appear to be some sort of drinking hall. The holes in the roof have allowed birds to build nests among the beams, and the floor and tables are speckled with bird droppings. Dirty mugs litter the bar top, some still half-full with ale. In one corner, a human male in what appears to be clergyman’s vestments is sleeping hard, face down on the table in front of him, surrounded by a regiment of empty tankards. 

Minsys takes the man's hand and shakes it firmly.  "No we don't work with him.  I use to do trade for my tribe but they were killed by orcs, now my trade is killing orcs.  Following the trail of some I ran into the groul I'm with now just outside Big Al's farm.  They had burnt part of his fields, destroyed his barn and had him chained up in the basement.  We liberated him, killed the orcs and he gave horses as thanks.  Figured we'd maybe sell one or two depending on price but I'm keeping one for sure "

Tabesha'l walks up to the clerk, puts on her most formal face and asks, a tad haughtily:

" Muan Ariethyl, Ar'daneth. Tabesha'l Pananthyr, from the Pananthyrs of Andhruin. I shall require a hot bath run for my own person, as I need to rest from my recent travels. Have that prepared, wilt thou ? As far as lodgings, I doeth need rooms for myself and four of my retainers. I will need to see said-rooms first, of course."

“Ah, I see,” says Aldo as he begins to more thoroughly appraise the condition of the horses. “Any injuries to these mounts I should know of? I assume they were used primarily for riding as opposed to work...at least that is what they were bred for anyways.” He bends over and lifts the foot of one of the horses to inspect the bottom of the hoof. “So, orcs you say? Well, can’t say I’m surprised. Conyberry is a natural corridor for raid movements between the Sword Mountains and the Neverwinter Wood. We tried to warn the sheriff before he bought the ranch, but he would hear nothing of it. Wanted his place to be undisturbed by the bothers of city life.” He motions with his finger as if drawing mathematical equations in the air. Finally, he announces, “If you’re handing off the bit, bridle and saddlebags I’ll give you 120 gold for two of them. You staying in town long?”

“Of course, mi’lady,” says the gentleman as he looks over Tabesha’l’s shoulder and snaps his fingers in command. A group of four halflings swings into action behind her as they begin preparations for their presumably noble guests. He begins scribbling in a ledger as he mumbles quietly to himself: “...five guest rooms, one private hot bath, dinner and breakfast...” he then lays the quill flat across the book and announces “that will be eleven gold madam. If you and your consorts choose not to dine with us, we will issue you a payment at the rate of five silver pieces per person, per meal upon your departure. Do you have trunks to be brought in from your coach?“ He snaps his fingers again sharply and another halfling materializes at Tabesha’l’s side over-eager to carry her things.

Tabesha'l smiles: "Oh, that is quite alright but I'd still have to ascertain the quality of yon rooms before I take my decision. Also, the other elf in the group is but a wildling, a wretched creature from the forest that I employ as my personal squire... the ruffian can very well sleep in the stables and eat with thy valets, can he not ? But I shall take my bath first and reflect on all this, while thou prepareth my visit of the rooms, yes ?"  

Ando will walk over and shake the clergyman's shoulder. "Excuse me sir, but is this the Talking Troll? We're looking for someone who spends some time here, a Mordecai Fartheen. Do you know him?"