Kess is keeping an eye on the sky and the party's surroundings, not keen on enduring another ambush like the party experienced on the way back to Yartar.
Your eyes and ears don’t detect anything out of the ordinary, or that would appear threatening, but as you travel further on the dirt track, you see the landscape begin to change all around you. The sparse forests and plains have given way to a more open, undulating terrain of small hills, troughs, bogs and rocky crags that makes you realize that you’re close to the namesake of this route, The Evermoors.
Known for the countless trolls that infest its damp, misty marshes, this vast, barren, broken land is home to many dangers and hoardes of menacing creatures that constantly threaten the inhabitants who eek out their livings in this part of The Savage North.
As you walk, you see large patches of heather that cover the dense green tundra with its bright purple flowers, and you feel a noticeable coolness to the air, which has taken on a slightly more damp feel than before. It’s still sunny out, but this is a reminder that you are getting further away from Yartar and the Dessarsin Valley.
Just over three hours from Melton, you crest a small rise and spot the village of Calling Horns. It’s roughly the size of Melton, but without a palisade. A collection of small log cottages surround a large fieldstone structure with adjoining stables that sits on a small tree-lined ridge that overlooks the village.
As you enter, you see that the trail is marked with weathered, painted orc skulls that line the ground, and you see that the large building is the Calling Horns Inn.
Lumen's gait stutters a bit when he sees the skulls, but the stutter fades as he keeps walking, eyes alert but very deliberately makes his self-presentation easygoing and carefree. He's trying to project calm, and show himself to be not a threat to a community that might not see him that way.
"Do we want to stop here? Or does anyone see the Dessarin? We're supposed to follow it south here, where the path evidently forks to the right. We could eat here, and perhaps stay here for the night, though I might camp out again."He looks at the skulls as they pass. "Krackle, you're welcome to join me if you like."
"Well, I can see the memory of the North's past is quite strong here," Kess nervously eyes their surroundings, noting the very obvious orc skulls before turning to regard Lumen; half-orc or not, their musical friend still has orcish blood. If those skulls were any indicator, she was concerned that an icy reception awaited them. "I don't think it terribly wise to keep going. I know we've a bit of urgency, but we'll do nobody any good if we get ourselves ambushed in the middle of the night by bandits or the like."
((DM, what would Kess know of this part of Faerun, aside from common rumor and legend?))
Kess, and anyone who has looked at a map or traveled in The North know that Calling Horns sits at the intersection of The Evermoor Way and Jundar's Pass, which is the trail that leads southeast and cuts back through the western side of the Dessarin Hills. In fact, as you enter the middle of the village, you see the cairn of weathered and lichen-covered orc skulls that marks the intersection. The display of skulls commemorates the slaughter of a ravaging orc horde that occurred here long ago.
Given its proximity to The Evermoors, the numerous small outposts like Calling Horns are often under threat from the dangers that plague the vast moors to the north. Until recently, Calling Horns was just a single trailside inn, but it's clearly been built up during the past few years, which would be evident, since most of the buildings here show minimal signs of wear and weathering.
"Real nice decor they got here,"Chrys says, her voice dripping with obvious sarcasm as she looks at the skulls with a moue of distaste. "Don't worry 'bout them lookin' ta make any more. We'll set 'em straight before they can even try. Still... I'm agreein' with Kess here. We gotta feel out this town an' see how they treat us. It ain't very safe ta be campin' out 'round these parts, either. Everything gets a lil' meaner the further north ya travel, or so I've heard."
She spots the Inn, and begins to march in that direction. "The inn's the best place to see how this town ticks. Let's get ourselves a meal, an' then decide if we're stayin' in or out for the night."
You all make your way over to the large stone building and enter the Calling Horns Inn. Once inside, you can see that it's a rather nice establishment. It's clean, well lit with a variety of lanterns, and the long wooden tables and chairs are in good conditions. A tall, very well-dressed human woman in her late 40s or early 50s with long , wavy strawberry blonde hair stands behind the bar in front of a shelf that has an impressive selection of ales and wines, apparently overseeing a stocky human in his 20s who's actually serving the drinks.
The inn is about half full, and there are maybe 20 people in here enjoying the food, drink and relatively good cheer that's present. By the looks of the patrons, you would surmise that there are mix of locals, simple travelers and a few adventuring types.
As you make your way inside, the woman greets you with a wave and a distinguished smile.
"Greetings, travelers, and welcome to the Calling Horns Inn. How may we serve you? Is it drinks, food, or lodging you require, or all three?"
Kess is DISCRETELY looking over the crowd, trying to see what reaction there may be to Lumen's presence if any at all , while awaiting for Chrys (who has apparently gained a leadership position) to speak for the party.
Krackle's tail would have stopped wagging at the sight of the skulls before he slowly inched closer to Lumen. "maybe those were really bad orcs.... and they are actually really friendly people in this town..." The kobold would say as he glance from the skulls up towards his companions. As they move into town, the kobold would try to hide between Lumen and Chrys... clutching his tail tightly in his hands and stepping quietly as though trying very hard not to bother anyone. Upon entering the tavern he would continue to stand very close to his much taller and stronger companions even though the lady seems nice.
As Kess looks around the room, it seems apparent to her that Lumen's presence has not sparked alarm with any of the patrons or the proprietors. While there is not an abundance of half orcs inhabiting the civilized places of The North, it's not entirely uncommon to encounter one of them in an outpost like this along a relatively well-traveled route like The Evermoor Way. A few heads turn when you walk in, but none that linger too long.
"Well... I suppose those particular orcs probably were terrible, if those skulls are from when I believe them to be from," Kess would place a hand on Krackle's shoulder, hoping to calm him. "Long before the lot of us were born, if I had to guess, a terrible war raged in the North and the Silver Marches over 100 years ago, during the time of Obould Many-Arrows. Mother said that it was a fearful time, even with her affairs in the City of Sails. Thankfully... that was very long ago, and this is now... so don't worry yourself, alright Krackle?"
"Seems we are in the market for all three. I'm Lumen, a bard of some repute, out of Yartar. These are my friends, the," he sighs for just a microsecond, "the Pie Pals. What is your name, and what do you recommend?"
Chrys's eyes light up as she looks over the selection of ale available behind the bar. "Y'all seem like the friendly sort up here. D'ya have rooms available for the likes of us fer the evenin', an' if so, how much would they be runnin' us?" she asks. "Though I wouldn't be averse to the drinks or the food... or the local rumors, either,"she adds with a grin. "We're from outta town, as ya can see, and knowin' what's goin' on around these parts might make our travels a lil' safer, if ya get my drift."
"A bard named Lumen from Yartar," the woman says with a smile in her rich Chondathan accent. "Well met, I say. And to your friends The Pie Pals. By the sound of that, I would guess you are a group of entertainers, but judging by the looks of some of your more heavily armored companions, perhaps that is not entirely accurate."
"My name is Madame Zoar, and this is my establishment. We like to think that we're the friendly types indeed, or at lest the fiercely independent types who know the value of a good meal, a mug full of ale and a safe place to rest for the night. I do have some rooms available. Three or four, I believe. Two shared rooms that sleep eight, while the others sleep four. They're one gold per person each night, half a gold for a good meal, and a wide selection of ales and wines to accompany."
"As for the local rumors... now that's an even more interesting question. There are always things going on in the shadow of The Evermoors, as you probably know, m'lady dwarf. Where is it that you are headed?"
"Well met, Ma'am! M'name's Chrys, and yer right. We're a mercenary company, though Lumen here's gonna be some o' the best entertainment ya'll find in town, if ya care to let him perform for yer crowd. Maybe he could do you a favor, an' you could do us a good turn too, some music an' singin' for a lil' discount on that offer o' yours?" In answer to Zoar's question, she replies "We're just stoppin' by on our way to the village o' Noanar's Hold. I know it gets hairier out in the wilds, the further ya get away from civilization, but we got some business out near the High Forest, so there's no avoidin' it."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Lumen's fingers begin to dance over the strings, teasing out a jovial, happy tune. Walking into towns like this in the north is always a roll of the dice, and he's happy to find out that this one's friendly at the outset. He's intent on giving the patrons here some truly excellent crowdpleasers, if Madame Zoar assents.
"Well, we don't have any other entertainment lined up for this evening, so why not? I think that's a most fine idea. What's a tavern without a bit of music? Please, Lumen, give us a song or two. Let's see what you've got in your melody bag."
Perhaps it's Madame Zoar's motivation that's lifting up his confidence, but Lumen actually plays and sings better than he has in a few days. He soon finds a lage percentage of the patrons clapping to this beats and doing their best so sing along as they quaff down their mugs of ale. Glancing over, you even see the lady Zoar smiling and nodding her head to the joyful rhythm of his music. She obviously approves.
To Chrys, she answers, "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Chrys. You've brought me a fine singer indeed! I don't usually give discounts for song and dance. Usually, I reserve those for folk who can help me in other ways, but perhaps I can make an exception. I do like his style. Haven't heard a crooner quite like him before."
"Nope... sometimes there's no avoiding danger, especially in your line o' work, my dear. You say you're a mercenary company. There's always use for capable folk like you in this part of the world, that is, if you're indeed capable. If you're heading to Noanar's Hold and the High Forest, then I'd say be careful. Danger most certainly abounds in those woods, and around that village. At least, from what I've heard. Running an inn, I hear a lot of news from travelers like you. Let's just say that I'm glad I'm here and not there, even though we're but a wee walk away from The Evermoors."
Kess is keeping an eye on the sky and the party's surroundings, not keen on enduring another ambush like the party experienced on the way back to Yartar.
Lumen also keeps an eye out! Perception: 21
Krackle would help Lumen to look out for danger as well, Scrambling up his back and sitting on his shoulder acting as a second pair of eyes
Your eyes and ears don’t detect anything out of the ordinary, or that would appear threatening, but as you travel further on the dirt track, you see the landscape begin to change all around you. The sparse forests and plains have given way to a more open, undulating terrain of small hills, troughs, bogs and rocky crags that makes you realize that you’re close to the namesake of this route, The Evermoors.
Known for the countless trolls that infest its damp, misty marshes, this vast, barren, broken land is home to many dangers and hoardes of menacing creatures that constantly threaten the inhabitants who eek out their livings in this part of The Savage North.
As you walk, you see large patches of heather that cover the dense green tundra with its bright purple flowers, and you feel a noticeable coolness to the air, which has taken on a slightly more damp feel than before. It’s still sunny out, but this is a reminder that you are getting further away from Yartar and the Dessarsin Valley.
Just over three hours from Melton, you crest a small rise and spot the village of Calling Horns. It’s roughly the size of Melton, but without a palisade. A collection of small log cottages surround a large fieldstone structure with adjoining stables that sits on a small tree-lined ridge that overlooks the village.
As you enter, you see that the trail is marked with weathered, painted orc skulls that line the ground, and you see that the large building is the Calling Horns Inn.
Lumen's gait stutters a bit when he sees the skulls, but the stutter fades as he keeps walking, eyes alert but very deliberately makes his self-presentation easygoing and carefree. He's trying to project calm, and show himself to be not a threat to a community that might not see him that way.
"Do we want to stop here? Or does anyone see the Dessarin? We're supposed to follow it south here, where the path evidently forks to the right. We could eat here, and perhaps stay here for the night, though I might camp out again." He looks at the skulls as they pass. "Krackle, you're welcome to join me if you like."
"Well, I can see the memory of the North's past is quite strong here," Kess nervously eyes their surroundings, noting the very obvious orc skulls before turning to regard Lumen; half-orc or not, their musical friend still has orcish blood. If those skulls were any indicator, she was concerned that an icy reception awaited them. "I don't think it terribly wise to keep going. I know we've a bit of urgency, but we'll do nobody any good if we get ourselves ambushed in the middle of the night by bandits or the like."
((DM, what would Kess know of this part of Faerun, aside from common rumor and legend?))
Kess, and anyone who has looked at a map or traveled in The North know that Calling Horns sits at the intersection of The Evermoor Way and Jundar's Pass, which is the trail that leads southeast and cuts back through the western side of the Dessarin Hills. In fact, as you enter the middle of the village, you see the cairn of weathered and lichen-covered orc skulls that marks the intersection. The display of skulls commemorates the slaughter of a ravaging orc horde that occurred here long ago.
Given its proximity to The Evermoors, the numerous small outposts like Calling Horns are often under threat from the dangers that plague the vast moors to the north. Until recently, Calling Horns was just a single trailside inn, but it's clearly been built up during the past few years, which would be evident, since most of the buildings here show minimal signs of wear and weathering.
"Real nice decor they got here," Chrys says, her voice dripping with obvious sarcasm as she looks at the skulls with a moue of distaste. "Don't worry 'bout them lookin' ta make any more. We'll set 'em straight before they can even try. Still... I'm agreein' with Kess here. We gotta feel out this town an' see how they treat us. It ain't very safe ta be campin' out 'round these parts, either. Everything gets a lil' meaner the further north ya travel, or so I've heard."
She spots the Inn, and begins to march in that direction. "The inn's the best place to see how this town ticks. Let's get ourselves a meal, an' then decide if we're stayin' in or out for the night."
Lumen nods at Chrys' suggestion, and steps forward into the inn with confidence and a smile, hand on his lute.
You all make your way over to the large stone building and enter the Calling Horns Inn. Once inside, you can see that it's a rather nice establishment. It's clean, well lit with a variety of lanterns, and the long wooden tables and chairs are in good conditions. A tall, very well-dressed human woman in her late 40s or early 50s with long , wavy strawberry blonde hair stands behind the bar in front of a shelf that has an impressive selection of ales and wines, apparently overseeing a stocky human in his 20s who's actually serving the drinks.
The inn is about half full, and there are maybe 20 people in here enjoying the food, drink and relatively good cheer that's present. By the looks of the patrons, you would surmise that there are mix of locals, simple travelers and a few adventuring types.
As you make your way inside, the woman greets you with a wave and a distinguished smile.
"Greetings, travelers, and welcome to the Calling Horns Inn. How may we serve you? Is it drinks, food, or lodging you require, or all three?"
Kess is DISCRETELY looking over the crowd, trying to see what reaction there may be to Lumen's presence if any at all , while awaiting for Chrys (who has apparently gained a leadership position) to speak for the party.
Krackle's tail would have stopped wagging at the sight of the skulls before he slowly inched closer to Lumen. "maybe those were really bad orcs.... and they are actually really friendly people in this town..." The kobold would say as he glance from the skulls up towards his companions. As they move into town, the kobold would try to hide between Lumen and Chrys... clutching his tail tightly in his hands and stepping quietly as though trying very hard not to bother anyone. Upon entering the tavern he would continue to stand very close to his much taller and stronger companions even though the lady seems nice.
As Kess looks around the room, it seems apparent to her that Lumen's presence has not sparked alarm with any of the patrons or the proprietors. While there is not an abundance of half orcs inhabiting the civilized places of The North, it's not entirely uncommon to encounter one of them in an outpost like this along a relatively well-traveled route like The Evermoor Way. A few heads turn when you walk in, but none that linger too long.
"Well... I suppose those particular orcs probably were terrible, if those skulls are from when I believe them to be from," Kess would place a hand on Krackle's shoulder, hoping to calm him. "Long before the lot of us were born, if I had to guess, a terrible war raged in the North and the Silver Marches over 100 years ago, during the time of Obould Many-Arrows. Mother said that it was a fearful time, even with her affairs in the City of Sails. Thankfully... that was very long ago, and this is now... so don't worry yourself, alright Krackle?"
"Seems we are in the market for all three. I'm Lumen, a bard of some repute, out of Yartar. These are my friends, the," he sighs for just a microsecond, "the Pie Pals. What is your name, and what do you recommend?"
Chrys's eyes light up as she looks over the selection of ale available behind the bar. "Y'all seem like the friendly sort up here. D'ya have rooms available for the likes of us fer the evenin', an' if so, how much would they be runnin' us?" she asks. "Though I wouldn't be averse to the drinks or the food... or the local rumors, either," she adds with a grin. "We're from outta town, as ya can see, and knowin' what's goin' on around these parts might make our travels a lil' safer, if ya get my drift."
"A bard named Lumen from Yartar," the woman says with a smile in her rich Chondathan accent. "Well met, I say. And to your friends The Pie Pals. By the sound of that, I would guess you are a group of entertainers, but judging by the looks of some of your more heavily armored companions, perhaps that is not entirely accurate."
"My name is Madame Zoar, and this is my establishment. We like to think that we're the friendly types indeed, or at lest the fiercely independent types who know the value of a good meal, a mug full of ale and a safe place to rest for the night. I do have some rooms available. Three or four, I believe. Two shared rooms that sleep eight, while the others sleep four. They're one gold per person each night, half a gold for a good meal, and a wide selection of ales and wines to accompany."
"As for the local rumors... now that's an even more interesting question. There are always things going on in the shadow of The Evermoors, as you probably know, m'lady dwarf. Where is it that you are headed?"
"Well met, Ma'am! M'name's Chrys, and yer right. We're a mercenary company, though Lumen here's gonna be some o' the best entertainment ya'll find in town, if ya care to let him perform for yer crowd. Maybe he could do you a favor, an' you could do us a good turn too, some music an' singin' for a lil' discount on that offer o' yours?" In answer to Zoar's question, she replies "We're just stoppin' by on our way to the village o' Noanar's Hold. I know it gets hairier out in the wilds, the further ya get away from civilization, but we got some business out near the High Forest, so there's no avoidin' it."
Lumen's fingers begin to dance over the strings, teasing out a jovial, happy tune. Walking into towns like this in the north is always a roll of the dice, and he's happy to find out that this one's friendly at the outset. He's intent on giving the patrons here some truly excellent crowdpleasers, if Madame Zoar assents.
Performance: 18
(I'll take it!)
"Well, we don't have any other entertainment lined up for this evening, so why not? I think that's a most fine idea. What's a tavern without a bit of music? Please, Lumen, give us a song or two. Let's see what you've got in your melody bag."
Perhaps it's Madame Zoar's motivation that's lifting up his confidence, but Lumen actually plays and sings better than he has in a few days. He soon finds a lage percentage of the patrons clapping to this beats and doing their best so sing along as they quaff down their mugs of ale. Glancing over, you even see the lady Zoar smiling and nodding her head to the joyful rhythm of his music. She obviously approves.
To Chrys, she answers, "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Chrys. You've brought me a fine singer indeed! I don't usually give discounts for song and dance. Usually, I reserve those for folk who can help me in other ways, but perhaps I can make an exception. I do like his style. Haven't heard a crooner quite like him before."
"Nope... sometimes there's no avoiding danger, especially in your line o' work, my dear. You say you're a mercenary company. There's always use for capable folk like you in this part of the world, that is, if you're indeed capable. If you're heading to Noanar's Hold and the High Forest, then I'd say be careful. Danger most certainly abounds in those woods, and around that village. At least, from what I've heard. Running an inn, I hear a lot of news from travelers like you. Let's just say that I'm glad I'm here and not there, even though we're but a wee walk away from The Evermoors."