Jheric spends the remainder of the day perusing the stalls and shops. He had no way of telling what he would encounter, but he found it best to prepare for any eventuality. Among his eclectic shopping list, he found chalk, rations for over a week, a length of hempen rope, a flask, a bedroll, a few flasks of oil, and a torches. When all was said and done, he retired to his provided room, laid everything out, and divided it among his backpack, pockets, pouches, and saddlebags. Better the horse than me, I suppose. His owl quirked its head at the odd assortment of traveling gear from the nearby bedpost. You know, you really could stand to carry a bit of weight, too.
In the morning, he meets with the others, mounted and ready to go. His owl stays perched on his shoulder, occasionally peering around for some curiosity of the city, "Best be off quick. Less time on the road is best."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Gwin is uncharacteristically quiet as she meets the others at Evermoor Way. Leaning forward she whispers something in dwarvish to Steveaustin and nudges him on with a cluck-cluck of her tongue. Blowing a wild black tendril out of her eyes she sets her face east and utters a brief, but solemn prayer Mighty Tyr, the Maimed God, the Wounded One, the Even-handed, guide our path, give us eyes that see beyond the flesh, ears that hear the faintest of supplications, hands that are sure, feet that are swift, minds that cannot be turned or manipulated. Your house is built with justice and it is justice we seek for our brothers. Hear us now...
And with that, she falls silent once more, but lips still moving in meditation.
Mola joins up with this new compatriots with Tarnie, and makes introductions, sharing some apples and sugar beets with the other mounts. His conversation is easy and laconic. He doesn't mount Tarnie, only walking beside him in the city. He keeps turning his head back to look at Gwin, Rixton, and Jheric while they walk, and as he does so, he's regularly looking back for any tails they have or interested parties. Perception: 18
The four adventurers (referred to by some as the Crimson Jackals) depart Yartar early on the 16th of Flamerule. The Evermoor Way, heading eastward, is little more than a gravel and dirt wagon trail. There are a few others to be seen on the road that first day. Less than two hours after leaving the city, you catch up to a pair of merchants: a male and female human. Each one sits atop a nearly-empty wagon being pulled by a draft horse. As you pass them, they greet you cordially and wish you good day and ask if you are also bound for Everlund.
Near midday, you encounter a pair of pedestrians, a male half-elf and a male human, who are headed in the opposite direction. Both are carrying longbows and have a considerable number of pelts slung over their shoulders; so, you surmise they are hunters and trappers.
The weather is fair for the entirety of day one, and the first night passes without incident.
Day two of the journey toward Calling Horns offers very little to note: unchanging scenery to the north and south, the threat of thunderstorms, and, as you prepare to set up camp for the night, a dozen or so deer grazing near the roadside.
Day three takes the threat of thunderstorms and turns it into a reality. Despite the warmth of the summer day, your clothes are soaked with rain, and not more than once, Tarnie and the horses are startled by the booming, rolling thunder. Once again, you see no one on the Evermoor Way as you travel, and when the time comes to take shelter among the trees and set up camp for the night, you are grateful for the chance to dry yourselves, to eat, and to sleep.
Day four is one of glorious sunshine, and roughly an hour before sunset you reach Calling Horns, a simple village located in a rather unwelcoming part of the world. The village proper is made up of rows of small log cottages with bark-shingled rooftops. The Calling Horns Inn, a large fieldstone structure with adjoining stables, stands atop a ridge that overlooks the Evermoor Way, surrounded by tall, old trees.
The third day was miserable....Jheric was trained for combat and cityscapes, not survival in the wilderness. There was no tent, his bedroll was soaked before he went to sleep, he didn't risk any of his fiery magic as it was too volatile for mundane uses. The only small - exceptionally small, actually - consolation was being able to cut the earth away with a bit of cantrip work and pile the excavated earth into a mound. The raised earthwork and excavated trenches at least kept the water from pooling on their things, but did nothing for what landed on it.
"That's it. Every coin I make until the day I die that doesn't go into my stomach goes toward things to make fire and shelter appear from thin air."
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Rixtonspends much of the day devising poems about the things he sees. Whenever possible he gives them a salacious bent.
Hunters fair approach on far Pelts and bows slung low Clearly wary the duo are Else their buggering we'll know
He gives passers-by a nod and a grin but otherwise returns to his rhymes before they are even out of earshot.
Day two:
The rogue spends most of his morning examining his thieves tools by holding them to the sky and squinting at them, then picking at the tips with his fingernails. In the afternoon he fashions a crude instrument out of horsehair and his prize axe, plucking at it tunelessly and trying to match the note with his voice.
Day three:
He studies the sky for half the morning, staring straight into the falling rain, occasionally yelling at the clouds as they roil above. The second half of the morning is met with morose silence. In the afternoon he takes to teaching Knickerboxer to march parade-style, meeting with partial success before it is time to camp.
Day four:
Rixtonspends the entire day capturing bugs with the previous day's ration wrap fastened to his quarterstaff. Each bug he catches he examines carefully before letting go, muttering things like "Fascinating" or "That's unexpected" or "Why?". By the end of the day, he is almost surprised they have arrived in Calling Horns.
"Well, Mola, you make contact with Renna and I'll get the horses stabled."
"City seemed empty back there, as we were leaving. Just waking up I suppose. Did anyone see any attention on us?" (Did Mola see any attention with that roll?)
His expression turns quizzical when he sees the hunters with their pelts. "Hope they made use of the rest of those animals. I don't like waste."The quizzicalness is the darkest expression you've seen on Mola's face in a while.
While making camp, he at first seems uncomfortable trying to share space and attention with others. He then shifts into a tiger and bounds off into the fading light, returning by dusk with a good-sized deer in his jaws. He drops it, shifts back to his familiar form, pauses and mutters a bit to himself over the deer, and then sets about cleaning it and preparing it for dinner and roasting, sharing the result with the others. He demurs when the subject of tents comes up, very happy to look into the night sky out in the open.
Day two
Mola tries to ask people where they are from, as he's heard that's what people do. If asked in return, he mentions he grew up by the sea, on and off ships, and that his family was a rowdy bunch. He preferred being alone, and left to wander relatively early.
When they spot the deer, he casts speak with animals and asks them if they've seen anything interesting along the road. He then shifts into a deer himself, and darts along the scrub down the side of the road for a mile or two, taking note of anyone traveling behind them. He does this once a day (once as a tiger the previous day).
Day 3
Mola, used to being out in the elements, luxuriates in the rain for a while. Then he starts to cheat and uses shape water to divert or immediately cast off the water from his person, and Tarnie. When Rixton starts shouting at the rain, he uses the cantrip to gather up some rainfall into floating, moving shapes that pantomime his shouting like hand puppets would. He offers to wick away water to Rixton and the others periodically, and when they make camp, he uses it to wick away the water from their campsite, working with Jheric's earth molding to make a better version of what would have been a soggy, miserable place to sleep.
Day 4
Arriving at Calling Horns, he makes his way openly to the inn, looking around for someone matching the description of Renna, and ordering a beer. He begins dipping his forefinger, should he find her, into the foam and drawing idly on the bar. What he actually draws is upside-down Harper code word, in druidic.
Gwin spends much of the day chatting bemusedly to anyone patient enough to listen, most often her own mount. She stops the hunters as they pass by and purchases a brown bear pelt (6 silver) for sleeping on since she uses her blanket to cover Steveaustin at night. She eats her rations sparingly, foraging as much edible berries and plants as she can (and shares with any who'll accept). Survival: 19
In the evenings she spends time in prayer, walking the perimeter of their campsite with a burning stick of incense.
Day 2
Gwin continues to forage and pass the time in prayer and prattlings. (Prayer and Prattlings is the first single off her new LP) Survival: 6
Day 3
Gwin wraps the pelt around herself as a shield from the rivulets of water pouring down her face and neck. You know what they say? she says to the group, When it rains it roars!!!!
She chooses not to ride Steveaustin on the third day; the thunder startles him periodically and she doesn't want to risk being thrown. She's removed a piece of cloth from her saddlebag and used it to cover her horse's eyes to try and reduce his fear. By the time they reach camp she's weary from trying to keep up with the rest of the group and falls to the ground in exhaustion. She enters into heavy slumber quickly, her mouth agape and a heavy rumblesnore emitting from within her nose. Every so often she can be heard in the darkness choking on the accumulation of rainwater in her mouth, but immediately falls back asleep.
Day 4
Upon arrival at The Calling Horns Inn, she first sees to the care of her horse in the adjoining stables, and then joins her companions inside, eager to see if they can learn anything from the mysterious Renna. Still wearing the Cloak of Elvenkind, she makes sure the Harper's pin is visible on her tunic underneath. She sees Mola has already found a seat and ordered a beverage. She takes the seat next to him and does the same.
The Calling Horns Inn is, in a word, utilitarian. It is marked by simple but sturdy tables and benches, no decor, dim light and simple fare. The inn's only foray into the world of finer things is the rather broad and surprising selection of ales--a selection that is scrawled in charcoal on one of the walls. Moving back and forth between the kitchen and the bar is a harsh-looking human female with leathery skin and a mess of black curls surrounding her face. When she vanishes behind the kitchen door, you can hear her giving curt instructions to whoever has the honor of being the cook. When she stands behind the bar, she gives the impression of eyeing every customer with suspicion. You can't help but think she is both proprietor and bouncer.
A young, bright-eyed and red-headed human female both takes and delivers your order. That her name is Renna is no mystery, for in the span of a few minutes, the tough matriarch of the place has given her orders multiple times. "Rabbit stew's ready, Renna!" and "Is the half-orc's room ready, Ren?" and "Ren, do you need help with that, young'n?"
When Renna stops by your table table a second time, you catch a momentary pause in her quick, fluid movements. She eyes the pattern drawn by Mola and narrows her eyes almost imperceptibly. She glances at Gwin and catches the glint of candlelight that reflects of the dwarf's pin. Renna begins to walk away but suddenly turns and says, "You seem to be no common travelers. Share a bottle of wine with me after the inn closes? The benches near the well?"
You immediately understand her meaning. Between the inn and stables is a well, not far from which is an area with a few tables and benches beneath the sprawling arms of an old oak tree.
In the stables...
Rixton is quickly met by a an energetic but rather unkempt human teen who introduces himself as Shem. The stables are clean and house two other horses, indicating the possibility of other travelers being present at the inn. Shem listens intently to Rixton's orders and talks softly to the horses and to Tarnie as he leads them to their individual stalls. "I'll have Tamalin add the boarding and feed to your bill, sir," he says, apparently referring to the proprietor of the place. "Don't worry a bit, master. I'll take fine care of 'em."
"Ah, thanks. My companions may have already bid their greetings, then," Rixton says. He lounges against one of the stable posts. "Have you ever been to Shieldmeet, Shem?"
Regardless of the boy's answer, Rixtonwill regale the adolescent with their successes at the games and their embarking on a quest together. "We're looking for a pair of brothers that came this way. The Pikes. We fear something terrible has happened to them. Do you recall them coming through town?"
Jheric was not one for "rustic"; he favored metropolitan comforts much more than nature. Sadly, this little town was exactly the latter. The little ray of hope stood in their inn destination, The Calling Horns Inn. The place was dry and warm, the food equally so, and Renna seemed to care little for the needlessly subtle dealings of The Harpers. Finally, he thought, maybe this won't be so bad after all.
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Shem--in response to Rixton--says, "Shieldmeet, no. I've just heard stories of it. I do remember the brothers. Came through Calling Horns two weeks ago. Quiet and unfriendly they were."
Assuming nothing of note happens at the inn, and the small talk Mola makes with Gwin and Jheric doesn't bore them, he'll choose not to mention the Pikes to anyone inside, and toward the end of the night, he'll settle up his tab for his meal (how much?) and saunter outside and look at the tree for a bit. He can't help himself, so he starts climbing the branches, looking around for interesting markings, insects, or trinkets, and also looking for decent vantage points to look around the town in the fading light.
(He doesn't remember that he left Tarnie to wander around, though probably not far, since he knows where the apples and sugar beets come from. If he sees the mule under the tree, he'll try to drop some sugar beets strategically in front of the poor animal, while staying hidden in the branches.)
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Gwin will take her leave from the Inn post-meal to walk about Calling Horns and chat with anyone she crosses paths with. Before leaving the Inn she will ask what time they close and if there is a temple or house of worship in town. (If yes, she will visit it.)
While she strolls about town, she will be on the alert for anything or anyone suspicious.
Jheric leaves his horse and equipment at the inn before setting out on the town. Several places are always sure to see traffic by adventurous travelers. In the few shops he could find, he posed as yet another starry-eyed thrill-seeker. "I'm looking to explore the lands, see what stories I can find. Need to spend these days living life the best you can before age makes the world smaller, right? Any good news of things going on or other like-minded people coming through recently?"
(If you need an Investigation, Insight, or Persuasion check, just let me know)
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Shem--in response to Rixton--says, "Shieldmeet, no. I've just heard stories of it. I do remember the brothers. Came through Calling Horns two weeks ago. Quiet and unfriendly they were."
"Unfriendly? That's curious. They seemed to be well-liked. You might have the clue to there whereabouts, young Shem. You may well be crucial in their rescue. What do you remember about their unfriendliness?"
From their different vantage points, Gwin, Mola, and Jheric quickly realize that Calling Horns isn't much more than an outpost on Evermoor Way. The nearness of the Evermoors--that vast, unsettled area of fog-shrouded hills and cold bogs that are home to hill giants, ettins, ogres, orcs, and trolls--prevents all but the bravest and heartiest from settling in this part of the North.
So, Gwin is met with a shake of the head when she asks for the whereabouts of a temple. "A week's journey to the east...to Everlund" is the reply she receives.
Jheric locates a blacksmith and a carpenter, and the former chuckles softly as he says, "Living the best life you can, eh? Well, I pray the Horns can meet such high standards. Not much news to tell...but a few days back one of the locals spied a hill giant lumbering about...not more than a mile from the village. That's news for ya. Likeminded people? No can't say I've seen any such thing."
Mola catches a fair sunset as the sun vanishes behind the roof of the High Forest to the west. A few ravens pass overhead, and somewhere, not too distant to the north, he can hear the rhythmic croaking of frogs.
Rixton continues his conversation with Shem, who replies, "Rescue? Huh. Didn't know they were in any sort of trouble. I figured they left town, continuing east toward Everlund, just like everyone else who come from the west. Don't have any idea of their whereabouts, sir, but they seemed odd...lifeless, if you know what I mean. No laughing. Very little talking. I don't know, maybe they were just tired from travelin'."
Jheric spends the remainder of the day perusing the stalls and shops. He had no way of telling what he would encounter, but he found it best to prepare for any eventuality. Among his eclectic shopping list, he found chalk, rations for over a week, a length of hempen rope, a flask, a bedroll, a few flasks of oil, and a torches. When all was said and done, he retired to his provided room, laid everything out, and divided it among his backpack, pockets, pouches, and saddlebags. Better the horse than me, I suppose. His owl quirked its head at the odd assortment of traveling gear from the nearby bedpost. You know, you really could stand to carry a bit of weight, too.
In the morning, he meets with the others, mounted and ready to go. His owl stays perched on his shoulder, occasionally peering around for some curiosity of the city, "Best be off quick. Less time on the road is best."
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Gwin is uncharacteristically quiet as she meets the others at Evermoor Way. Leaning forward she whispers something in dwarvish to Steveaustin and nudges him on with a cluck-cluck of her tongue. Blowing a wild black tendril out of her eyes she sets her face east and utters a brief, but solemn prayer Mighty Tyr, the Maimed God, the Wounded One, the Even-handed, guide our path, give us eyes that see beyond the flesh, ears that hear the faintest of supplications, hands that are sure, feet that are swift, minds that cannot be turned or manipulated. Your house is built with justice and it is justice we seek for our brothers. Hear us now...
And with that, she falls silent once more, but lips still moving in meditation.
‘The hardest thing in this world is to live in it.’ - Buffy Summers
Mola joins up with this new compatriots with Tarnie, and makes introductions, sharing some apples and sugar beets with the other mounts. His conversation is easy and laconic. He doesn't mount Tarnie, only walking beside him in the city. He keeps turning his head back to look at Gwin, Rixton, and Jheric while they walk, and as he does so, he's regularly looking back for any tails they have or interested parties. Perception: 18
The four adventurers (referred to by some as the Crimson Jackals) depart Yartar early on the 16th of Flamerule. The Evermoor Way, heading eastward, is little more than a gravel and dirt wagon trail. There are a few others to be seen on the road that first day. Less than two hours after leaving the city, you catch up to a pair of merchants: a male and female human. Each one sits atop a nearly-empty wagon being pulled by a draft horse. As you pass them, they greet you cordially and wish you good day and ask if you are also bound for Everlund.
Near midday, you encounter a pair of pedestrians, a male half-elf and a male human, who are headed in the opposite direction. Both are carrying longbows and have a considerable number of pelts slung over their shoulders; so, you surmise they are hunters and trappers.
The weather is fair for the entirety of day one, and the first night passes without incident.
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Day two of the journey toward Calling Horns offers very little to note: unchanging scenery to the north and south, the threat of thunderstorms, and, as you prepare to set up camp for the night, a dozen or so deer grazing near the roadside.
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Day three takes the threat of thunderstorms and turns it into a reality. Despite the warmth of the summer day, your clothes are soaked with rain, and not more than once, Tarnie and the horses are startled by the booming, rolling thunder. Once again, you see no one on the Evermoor Way as you travel, and when the time comes to take shelter among the trees and set up camp for the night, you are grateful for the chance to dry yourselves, to eat, and to sleep.
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Day four is one of glorious sunshine, and roughly an hour before sunset you reach Calling Horns, a simple village located in a rather unwelcoming part of the world. The village proper is made up of rows of small log cottages with bark-shingled rooftops. The Calling Horns Inn, a large fieldstone structure with adjoining stables, stands atop a ridge that overlooks the Evermoor Way, surrounded by tall, old trees.
The third day was miserable....Jheric was trained for combat and cityscapes, not survival in the wilderness. There was no tent, his bedroll was soaked before he went to sleep, he didn't risk any of his fiery magic as it was too volatile for mundane uses. The only small - exceptionally small, actually - consolation was being able to cut the earth away with a bit of cantrip work and pile the excavated earth into a mound. The raised earthwork and excavated trenches at least kept the water from pooling on their things, but did nothing for what landed on it.
"That's it. Every coin I make until the day I die that doesn't go into my stomach goes toward things to make fire and shelter appear from thin air."
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Day one:
Rixton spends much of the day devising poems about the things he sees. Whenever possible he gives them a salacious bent.
Hunters fair approach on far
Pelts and bows slung low
Clearly wary the duo are
Else their buggering we'll know
He gives passers-by a nod and a grin but otherwise returns to his rhymes before they are even out of earshot.
Day two:
The rogue spends most of his morning examining his thieves tools by holding them to the sky and squinting at them, then picking at the tips with his fingernails. In the afternoon he fashions a crude instrument out of horsehair and his prize axe, plucking at it tunelessly and trying to match the note with his voice.
Day three:
He studies the sky for half the morning, staring straight into the falling rain, occasionally yelling at the clouds as they roil above. The second half of the morning is met with morose silence. In the afternoon he takes to teaching Knickerboxer to march parade-style, meeting with partial success before it is time to camp.
Day four:
Rixton spends the entire day capturing bugs with the previous day's ration wrap fastened to his quarterstaff. Each bug he catches he examines carefully before letting go, muttering things like "Fascinating" or "That's unexpected" or "Why?". By the end of the day, he is almost surprised they have arrived in Calling Horns.
"Well, Mola, you make contact with Renna and I'll get the horses stabled."
Day 1
"City seemed empty back there, as we were leaving. Just waking up I suppose. Did anyone see any attention on us?" (Did Mola see any attention with that roll?)
His expression turns quizzical when he sees the hunters with their pelts. "Hope they made use of the rest of those animals. I don't like waste." The quizzicalness is the darkest expression you've seen on Mola's face in a while.
While making camp, he at first seems uncomfortable trying to share space and attention with others. He then shifts into a tiger and bounds off into the fading light, returning by dusk with a good-sized deer in his jaws. He drops it, shifts back to his familiar form, pauses and mutters a bit to himself over the deer, and then sets about cleaning it and preparing it for dinner and roasting, sharing the result with the others. He demurs when the subject of tents comes up, very happy to look into the night sky out in the open.
Day two
Mola tries to ask people where they are from, as he's heard that's what people do. If asked in return, he mentions he grew up by the sea, on and off ships, and that his family was a rowdy bunch. He preferred being alone, and left to wander relatively early.
When they spot the deer, he casts speak with animals and asks them if they've seen anything interesting along the road. He then shifts into a deer himself, and darts along the scrub down the side of the road for a mile or two, taking note of anyone traveling behind them. He does this once a day (once as a tiger the previous day).
Day 3
Mola, used to being out in the elements, luxuriates in the rain for a while. Then he starts to cheat and uses shape water to divert or immediately cast off the water from his person, and Tarnie. When Rixton starts shouting at the rain, he uses the cantrip to gather up some rainfall into floating, moving shapes that pantomime his shouting like hand puppets would. He offers to wick away water to Rixton and the others periodically, and when they make camp, he uses it to wick away the water from their campsite, working with Jheric's earth molding to make a better version of what would have been a soggy, miserable place to sleep.
Day 4
Arriving at Calling Horns, he makes his way openly to the inn, looking around for someone matching the description of Renna, and ordering a beer. He begins dipping his forefinger, should he find her, into the foam and drawing idly on the bar. What he actually draws is upside-down Harper code word, in druidic.
Day 1
Gwin spends much of the day chatting bemusedly to anyone patient enough to listen, most often her own mount. She stops the hunters as they pass by and purchases a brown bear pelt (6 silver) for sleeping on since she uses her blanket to cover Steveaustin at night. She eats her rations sparingly, foraging as much edible berries and plants as she can (and shares with any who'll accept). Survival: 19
In the evenings she spends time in prayer, walking the perimeter of their campsite with a burning stick of incense.
Day 2
Gwin continues to forage and pass the time in prayer and prattlings. (Prayer and Prattlings is the first single off her new LP)
Survival: 6
Day 3
Gwin wraps the pelt around herself as a shield from the rivulets of water pouring down her face and neck. You know what they say? she says to the group, When it rains it roars!!!!
She chooses not to ride Steveaustin on the third day; the thunder startles him periodically and she doesn't want to risk being thrown. She's removed a piece of cloth from her saddlebag and used it to cover her horse's eyes to try and reduce his fear. By the time they reach camp she's weary from trying to keep up with the rest of the group and falls to the ground in exhaustion. She enters into heavy slumber quickly, her mouth agape and a heavy rumblesnore emitting from within her nose. Every so often she can be heard in the darkness choking on the accumulation of rainwater in her mouth, but immediately falls back asleep.
Day 4
Upon arrival at The Calling Horns Inn, she first sees to the care of her horse in the adjoining stables, and then joins her companions inside, eager to see if they can learn anything from the mysterious Renna. Still wearing the Cloak of Elvenkind, she makes sure the Harper's pin is visible on her tunic underneath. She sees Mola has already found a seat and ordered a beverage. She takes the seat next to him and does the same.
‘The hardest thing in this world is to live in it.’ - Buffy Summers
Inside the Calling Horns Inn...
The Calling Horns Inn is, in a word, utilitarian. It is marked by simple but sturdy tables and benches, no decor, dim light and simple fare. The inn's only foray into the world of finer things is the rather broad and surprising selection of ales--a selection that is scrawled in charcoal on one of the walls. Moving back and forth between the kitchen and the bar is a harsh-looking human female with leathery skin and a mess of black curls surrounding her face. When she vanishes behind the kitchen door, you can hear her giving curt instructions to whoever has the honor of being the cook. When she stands behind the bar, she gives the impression of eyeing every customer with suspicion. You can't help but think she is both proprietor and bouncer.
A young, bright-eyed and red-headed human female both takes and delivers your order. That her name is Renna is no mystery, for in the span of a few minutes, the tough matriarch of the place has given her orders multiple times. "Rabbit stew's ready, Renna!" and "Is the half-orc's room ready, Ren?" and "Ren, do you need help with that, young'n?"
When Renna stops by your table table a second time, you catch a momentary pause in her quick, fluid movements. She eyes the pattern drawn by Mola and narrows her eyes almost imperceptibly. She glances at Gwin and catches the glint of candlelight that reflects of the dwarf's pin. Renna begins to walk away but suddenly turns and says, "You seem to be no common travelers. Share a bottle of wine with me after the inn closes? The benches near the well?"
You immediately understand her meaning. Between the inn and stables is a well, not far from which is an area with a few tables and benches beneath the sprawling arms of an old oak tree.
In the stables...
Rixton is quickly met by a an energetic but rather unkempt human teen who introduces himself as Shem. The stables are clean and house two other horses, indicating the possibility of other travelers being present at the inn. Shem listens intently to Rixton's orders and talks softly to the horses and to Tarnie as he leads them to their individual stalls. "I'll have Tamalin add the boarding and feed to your bill, sir," he says, apparently referring to the proprietor of the place. "Don't worry a bit, master. I'll take fine care of 'em."
Rixton nods. "Very good. Do you know Renna, lad? My traveling companions and I were told to look her up on our way through Calling Horns."
"Renna! Of course!" responds the boy quickly. "She'll be servin' inside the inn, sir." Shem cannot mask his...approval...of the person named Renna.
"Ah, thanks. My companions may have already bid their greetings, then," Rixton says. He lounges against one of the stable posts. "Have you ever been to Shieldmeet, Shem?"
Regardless of the boy's answer, Rixton will regale the adolescent with their successes at the games and their embarking on a quest together. "We're looking for a pair of brothers that came this way. The Pikes. We fear something terrible has happened to them. Do you recall them coming through town?"
Jheric was not one for "rustic"; he favored metropolitan comforts much more than nature. Sadly, this little town was exactly the latter. The little ray of hope stood in their inn destination, The Calling Horns Inn. The place was dry and warm, the food equally so, and Renna seemed to care little for the needlessly subtle dealings of The Harpers. Finally, he thought, maybe this won't be so bad after all.
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Mola nods at the invitation, and enjoys his meal, observing people and chatting with Gwin.
Shem--in response to Rixton--says, "Shieldmeet, no. I've just heard stories of it. I do remember the brothers. Came through Calling Horns two weeks ago. Quiet and unfriendly they were."
Assuming nothing of note happens at the inn, and the small talk Mola makes with Gwin and Jheric doesn't bore them, he'll choose not to mention the Pikes to anyone inside, and toward the end of the night, he'll settle up his tab for his meal (how much?) and saunter outside and look at the tree for a bit. He can't help himself, so he starts climbing the branches, looking around for interesting markings, insects, or trinkets, and also looking for decent vantage points to look around the town in the fading light.
(He doesn't remember that he left Tarnie to wander around, though probably not far, since he knows where the apples and sugar beets come from. If he sees the mule under the tree, he'll try to drop some sugar beets strategically in front of the poor animal, while staying hidden in the branches.)
Gwin will take her leave from the Inn post-meal to walk about Calling Horns and chat with anyone she crosses paths with. Before leaving the Inn she will ask what time they close and if there is a temple or house of worship in town. (If yes, she will visit it.)
While she strolls about town, she will be on the alert for anything or anyone suspicious.
Perception: 18
She'll head back in the direction of the Inn at nightfall.
‘The hardest thing in this world is to live in it.’ - Buffy Summers
Jheric leaves his horse and equipment at the inn before setting out on the town. Several places are always sure to see traffic by adventurous travelers. In the few shops he could find, he posed as yet another starry-eyed thrill-seeker. "I'm looking to explore the lands, see what stories I can find. Need to spend these days living life the best you can before age makes the world smaller, right? Any good news of things going on or other like-minded people coming through recently?"
(If you need an Investigation, Insight, or Persuasion check, just let me know)
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
"Unfriendly? That's curious. They seemed to be well-liked. You might have the clue to there whereabouts, young Shem. You may well be crucial in their rescue. What do you remember about their unfriendliness?"
From their different vantage points, Gwin, Mola, and Jheric quickly realize that Calling Horns isn't much more than an outpost on Evermoor Way. The nearness of the Evermoors--that vast, unsettled area of fog-shrouded hills and cold bogs that are home to hill giants, ettins, ogres, orcs, and trolls--prevents all but the bravest and heartiest from settling in this part of the North.
So, Gwin is met with a shake of the head when she asks for the whereabouts of a temple. "A week's journey to the east...to Everlund" is the reply she receives.
Jheric locates a blacksmith and a carpenter, and the former chuckles softly as he says, "Living the best life you can, eh? Well, I pray the Horns can meet such high standards. Not much news to tell...but a few days back one of the locals spied a hill giant lumbering about...not more than a mile from the village. That's news for ya. Likeminded people? No can't say I've seen any such thing."
Mola catches a fair sunset as the sun vanishes behind the roof of the High Forest to the west. A few ravens pass overhead, and somewhere, not too distant to the north, he can hear the rhythmic croaking of frogs.
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Rixton continues his conversation with Shem, who replies, "Rescue? Huh. Didn't know they were in any sort of trouble. I figured they left town, continuing east toward Everlund, just like everyone else who come from the west. Don't have any idea of their whereabouts, sir, but they seemed odd...lifeless, if you know what I mean. No laughing. Very little talking. I don't know, maybe they were just tired from travelin'."