Quivering Corruption (DM Lerus)

Zern to Utar: "Indeed. I do not partake in alcoholic imbibements, but will gladly share a story with a fellow half-orc. I was raised by my human mother in Impiltur. It was a though upbringing, being the only child with orcish blood in the neighborhood. The teasing was unbearable at times, and often I wandered if it would have been better to have grown up with my father. I'd learn the ways of orcish war bands, toughen up, and not have to tolerate mean remarks as a child. Tell me, brother, was your experience as a youngling similar?"

Utar also notices that Buhrell Caah has now approached Aleyd, an the two of them are having a conversation not 15 feet away.

Graxx picks a spot near a wall and observes the guests. While he is lost in thought about Chaab, two women approach him: Lady Dala Silmerhelve and her advisor Olisara Lightsong.

Lady Dala to Graxx: "I admire how your group was able to quickly gauge everyone's skills and put together a strategy. If you are as competent as Captain Aleyd Burral insists, I have no doubt we will succeed tomorrow. I do not doubt your expertise, but if you'd allow me a suggestion, warrior Graxx, we do have a small request."

She softly waves toward Olisara, indicating that the elf is expected to deliver the request. She does: "My Lady and I were a bit concerned that both my colleague and I were put on the same team. You surely know by now that both him and I are agents for the Harpers. We would have preferred to have representation in at least two teams. Is that something you can arrange?"

Dornal to Doozey: "Mr. Whitebeard? Just call me Dornal. I look forward to tomorrow's battles." The dwarf then taps his belly and raises his glass as Doozey steps away.

After looking at he halfling some more, Seranolla approaches Doozey once he is alone: "How are you, darling?" she asks in a very grandmotherly way. "Do you know why they call me the Whisperer? It is because I tend to whisper to myself quite a lot. When people see it, they think I am just going senile, but the truth is that I am instead speaking to the plants and the animals around me. If you know how to speak to them, then listen very closely, you know? And sometimes they reply back. There is a lot of wisdom held within all types of leaving beings out there, and they know many secrets. For instance, I know a little bit about almost everyone in this room... Almost. But there are a few guests here that still intrigue me. Two of them, to be exact. Do you mind telling me a bit about them?"

She sits down on a chair, looking a bit tired and whispers to Doozey: "The half-orcish lady... I did not catch her name. Is she part of your adventuring group?"

Neya's last bit of conversation with Zern goes unanswered. Graxx's announcement interupts any reply the half-orc was going to offer, and by the time Neya looks back, Zern has already turned to speak with Utar. Just the kind of slightly awkward social gaffe that happens at parties, it seems...

As people continue enjoying their side conversations and meals, Neya catches their attention with an invitation to strategize. The guests generally agree and begin to look expectantly at Neya, assuming she will offer the first tactical suggestion. 

(OOC: Side conversations are still going on. We can keep them going and strategize at the same time.)

"My story is much the same. Dreaming about being anywhere but where I grew up, although both my parents are half-orc. They met when they ran with the same war band, leaving to raise me. When I was old enough, I left them and ran with a band myself, although it wasn't like the stories I was told. There was no glory, no honour. Burning out villages, only fighting against the weak. I couldn't square the orders of our chief with what I felt was right, so I swapped sides."

Utar sets down his mug and looks around the Tea Kettle with a slightly conspiratorial air.

"If we're to swap stories, we should drink something. Tell me Zern, do you take tea? Because if you do there is no finer place in Phlan. I think they might blend it in house. There is a chamomile that is... Well, it's special. Let's see if we can't get ourselves a pot?"

Utar tries to wave to one of the many busy halfling women bustling throughout the Kettle seeing if he cannot get some tea fire himself and brother orc.

Doozey to Seranolla: For all of Doozey's perceptiveness, the world weary stoutling had to do a double take just to register Seranolla's approach. Then as if fearing a scolding, the back goes ramrod straight as Doozey

tried to put back on an alert airs. Even though by then, which would explain why he'd been so quick to disengage from everyone as soon as possible, the stress of the company had started to get to him.

['How are you, darling?']

Doozey mustered up the will to feign a small smile. But when trying to speak, the words catch in his throat. Confused and no small amounts annoyed, brows furrowed as Doozey can again tried to speak, and managed to eek out an "I'm-..." before the words catch again. With a sigh, he resolves himself to shrug and wait to see what the elderly gnome had for him. Now and then the stoutling found himself are shaking his head to the sides or nodding to her question. However, old habits died hard, and not all lessons are easily forgotten. In the face of elders, a Redfoot always chose to wait a short spell and make sure they said all they needed to say before chomping on a chance to speak. This usually lead to thinking more heavily about the lead in to any inquiry, and answer politely with a measure of a greater wisdom than would otherwise be taken into account.

The stoutling was out of practice though, and so it took him an extra moment more to meet her gaze again once the eyes drifted in deeper thought. "I'm not much one for gossip. But I understand. You wish to assured that those you may find yourself fighting with has the better interest in mind." He said. "As for the half-orcish woman... I didn't rightly catch her name myself during the discussion. But she is not part of our adventuring group. Rather, she seems to be someone they knew before I found myself joining the three in their most recent endeavours, and they seem to trust her well enough. And that has been good enough for me, as I've... lost my touch a bit when it comes to working with larger hunting parties, as it were." He admits somewhat solemnly. "..I... I assume the other one you were curious about is Mr. Senitir?"

Graxx gives a light bow and a smile.

”My Lady... Olisara... I appreciate you coming to me directly.”

Graxx pulls his jacket open with one finger on each hand.

”You may see fancy clothes but underneath this shirt is the chest of a Sky Pony Tribesman.”

Graxx releases his jacket.

”In my tribe when warbands are formed we often place members of the same family together.  They may not always like to be together... Maybe they were hoping to be in another warband with a beautiful shield maiden or maybe with the warband that has the highest chance of combat.  Their wants are taken into account but the success of the battle and the survival of the tribe is what’s most important.”

”In battle... People fight hard for their own lives and for other members of their tribe.  But another level of ferocity and tenacity is unleashed when individuals fight beside they are close to.  If they know that if they don’t give their best their loved ones may die they give all their might into the battle.”

Graxx points to members of CRAP.

”This is the reason why I made sure all members of CRAP stayed together.  This is also the reason I put the Harpers together.  You two know each other’s strengths and weaknesses.  Where one falls short you can provide support.”

Graxx sighs and smiles as he knows it was a long winded answer.

”Does that make sense?  If you still wish to be moved which mission would you rather be on and what are your strengths compared to the other agent?  I cannot make any promises but happy warriors are better warriors.”

Persuasion: 15

Neya was anticipating a reaction such as this and begins to pitch some initial ideas.

"If we want this fey lord to not join forces with the dragon, we should avoid lethal force against them, if at all feasible. If they have a high amount of casualties, they might see the dragon as a means to protect themselves from intruders. Furthermore, we know that the fey can be enticed with gifts. Since we know that, we should also assume that the hobgoblins have thought the same and are sending some token with their emissaries. If it could be intercepted, it could help keep the fey lord neutral, at the very least."

"When it comes to the infiltration, needless to say, finding out the reason behind the Thayan presence is the primary goal. But, there are other objectives, as well. There is a horn in the stronghold that can call the dragon; with something that important, it would be noticed if it went missing. Perhaps, if it was sabotaged in someway to prevent its use, their biggest asset would be inaccessible to them. There are also a number of archers and siege machines as well, preventing their use can go a long way in a full scale attack. Lastly, considering that a group of us are stopping a supply raid, that might mean that whatever ill-gotten goods remaining could be dwindling. If they were to disappear without their notice... Well, the old saying, 'an army marches on its stomach' comes to mind. On paper, all of these are possible, but it may be more than difficult in practice."

"Now, when it concerns the previously mentioned raid prevention, we cannot assume it would be merely a small party. Considering that they've been doing this for some time, they most likely know close attention is being paid. With this in mind, a large number should be expected as backup. Some might try and lure us away, so we need to be mindful of any tactic they may use. Is it know how many carriages or carts that will be area where the ambush would take place?"

"I welcome any question, comments and concerns."

Zern to Utar: "You frame our stories as having a similar theme, but the stark differences in upbringing is quite obvious. You grew up as a warrior, in the presence of both of your parents at least initially. That sounds like the wish I always had but never got. Count yourself lucky." He forces a small smile and steps away: "Enjoy your tea, master tactician."

Regarding the female half-orc, Seranolla responds to Doozey by simply stating: "A pity." Then, once the stoutling mentions Senitir, the gnome woman replies: "No. In reality, the second person I am interested in is... you. Did you say your name was Redfoot? Or did I hear it in the critters' whispers? Anyhow, indulge an old gnome and tell me a bit about your clan, would you?" 

Olisara begins to respond to Graxx's explanation, but is interrupted by Lady Dala: "We respect your expertise and won't challenge your decision any further, warrior Graxx. Thank you for listening to our request. As a show of appreciation, I'll leave you with a piece of advice: do not trust the Zhentarim. They are vile backstabbers seeking only their on ascension. Circumstances dictate we all work together in this mission, but heed my warning." With that, both women step away.

After Neya delivers her strategical points, most guests nod in accordance. A few remain silent or perhaps neutral, but there is no disagreement. Lord Valero praises the monk and her group: "Well said, well planned. These points are all well-taken." A moment later, Dornal Whitebeard answer Neya's only question: "Two wagons. No more, no less."

From then on, the two other teams get their own separate side-meeting and begin discussing their approach. The points brought up by Neya and Graxx are considered closely and they develop an overall approach that follows CRAP's recommendations. They ask a few questions here and there, and the information is flowing more freely on the tavern-floor now. CRAP answers some questions and repeats some points, but other members of the hunting party are actively discussing and participating as well. No new information comes up during this "planning-montage," except that someone suggests keeping open communications between the teams, either through spells or animal messengers or whatever works.

(OOC: I think this is a good time to begin wrapping up the planning session. Feel free to mention anything else you may want to share with the NPC, be it a side conversation or a planning point, but let us begin moving onward.)

"Before you duck out of sharing any more stories Zern, I want to offer two things. One, I envy you. I wish I had come to my faith earlier, I might have followed your path, our stories mirrors of each other. Two, when I left home it broke my parent's hearts. They had no desire for me to live the life they had."

Wiping his eyes on the soft fabric of his robe, Utar nods a goodbye to Zern, "I would want to continue this conversation, but perhaps after our respective missions are complete. Pelor guide you and keep you, brother. I'll ask Torm to do the same."

Regardless of whether he has been able to source any tea, Utar takes himself into a quiet corner and sits, resting his head in his hands.

(OOC Yeah, good to go.)

OOC:  Ready to move on here!

Graxx dwells on the Lady’s words about trust.  He was trying his best to open his trust to Chaab but maybe he was right about the Drow.

Doozey to Senitir: Doozey is visibly taken aback for a moment, but managed a nod after in confirmation prior to raising a quizzical brow. "I suppose that's alright. Though, I hope you can forgive me as well as it is a tough subject to speak of, seeing as -- as far as I'm aware at least -- I am the last of the Redfoots. At least the last of those that broke away from the other clans a full sonnet ago and thensome." He admitted readily enough. Yet when going on to say more, Doozey needed to take a breath.

When he did so, Taters squeezes until head and horn is able to pop out of the pack. From its awkward position there, it looked worriedly up at the stoutling and let out a sympathetic sounding whimper. But either Doozey paid it no mind or was too focused on keeping calm and collected, "I don't know how much you know about the Hin -- or Halflings, as most folk have the tendacy to call us, but it is a rare thing for us to be affected by Wanderlust. And when it hits, it is quite powerful. So, while one or three being hit with this at once in any settlement is hardly batted eye at, an entire clan being affected came as a shock to the greater community; especially considering we were the best hunters, best mastiff breeders, and most comprised the closest thing to an active defense force the settlement." He explained.

"Those closest to us in kin and friendship worried for us. Others... Most others were rather happy to be rid of us, as we tended to be a bit more wild and aggressive than most others. A trait they'd say was past on to us from our an ancestor Zorrik Bloodbeard, a dwarf of some renown in his time. Or so the story goes. Needless to say, tensions reach the point that the Redfoots answered the wanderlust a bit more readily by the end." Doozey said, and its only at that point that he had subconsciously pulled up a chair and plopped downa s gearing up for a long spiel. Cheeks darken at the realization. "I-in any case, to make a long story short. The Redfoots were nomadic. Sometimes we might settle a place for a few months to a year. But, never did we stay for long; such was the power of the compulsion. Not until some creature... finally did us in a good ways to the north.... I and me Brotha Biscuit, a Tundra Mastiff, only survived because I... I disobeyed me Mother and ran off fer a bit. There was this... strange cave I found deep in the woods days prior, you see. I hadn't the courage, believe it or not, to look into it. As the place gave me a funny feeling the first time I visited."

"And then... as if in punishment... I found that courage, and... there was nothing there... and what awaited me before I even.. got back...." He trails off there, staring at the ground with a far off look in his eyes.

(OOC: Good to go as well, unless Grandma has more.)

(Neya's good to go as well)

Zern listens to Utar's last few words in silence. On the one hand, there is an air of disagreement about him. On the other hand, he does not refuse potentially resuming this conversation at a later point in time. Utar is left alone to enjoy his tea. It tastes as delightful as it always had. There simply is no chamomile tea like this anywhere else.

Both Neya and Graxx catch a glimpse of Utar. They all exchange looks and nods confirming that the work for the night is done. There might be a bit more schmoozing to do, but the plans are all laid out.

Meanwhile, Doozey concludes his side conversation with Seranolla (not Senitir). She listens attentively to the tale, only looking away from the stoutling when Taters pops out. She can't resist but pet the horned-bunny and whisper a few incomprehensible words at him. Once Doozey's tale trails off, the old gnome says: "This is not the first time I hear your clan's name, though it has been a very long time. Did you mention they came form the south of the continent? I'd wager they came from elsewhere even before that... Somewhere around these parts, actually. Only the oldest of old folks will recall that name, or those who can speak to that which outlives us all: nature. If you'd like, I can ask the trees once things calm down. See if the plants remember the Redfoot clan." She does not wait for a response: "But first, we have more urgent matters to tend to. My old bones ache and I'm afraid I need to call it a night. Enjoy your evening, Master Redfoot."

Seranolla leaves the Tea Kettle, glancing curiously at Buhrell Caah as she goes. The half-orc woman does not notice it. The rest of the evening goes by rather quickly, filled with small talk and fraternization. At some point, Chaab leaves, as do a few others so they can rest a bit early before the next day's adventures: Brother Keefe, Captain Aleyd, and Villonah (who is still a Black Fist prisoner on paper, so she sort of has to leave with the captain.) Villonah looks relieved that Zern never approached her to ask about the delayed mission.

Eventually, the festivities die down and everyone agrees to meet by the edge of the Quivering Forest, just north of the city, no more than an hour past sunrise. Madame Freona catches CRAP before they can go, offering all four members a packed breakfast for the next morning, including the "beau Doozey, who she hadn't met but is welcome to come and meet her filles anytime."

(OOC: At this point, let me know if there is anything you'd like to do to prepare for the mission either late this night or very early the next morning.)

 (@Lerus: Look... some of us have spellchecks that like to betray us, and some forget to edit a copy pasta, M'kay? XD)

Fortunately, an estatic Doozey can barely muster more than several nods and squeak out "Y-you too, Madam Seranolla." prior to the Gnome's departure. The rest of the evening meeting is largely a blur for the stoutling, as twice now without having had to wrangle even the slimmest of confirmation of being on the right path, he had stumbled into hope. And though he knew the feeling would not last long, for a while he happily basked in it.

Even at his happiest, which for Doozey these days visibly meant little more than a more erect posture and a faint brightness to the general air about him, he didn't miss Villonah's departure under Aleyd's custody. It seemed the opposite of what had been promised, assuming he hadn't misinterpreted things, but... for now, he bid the trio goodbye without complaint; promising himself to think back harder on the deal.

Later with Madame Freona, it's as if Doozy.exe stopped working at the offer until nudged or poke, and even after is a little out of it as the group eventually departed the scene.

(@Lerus: Jokes above aside, Doozey's got no special preparations in mind, so is yet still good to go.)

Letting his tea grow cold Utar sits quietly until getting the nod from the other members of CRAP that is time to leave.

Monosyllabic in his responses in the route back to the temple, he seems glad to crawl into his cot.

Graxx will return the knife he picked up by placing it with the rest of the dirty dishes.

Graxx will spend about 15 minutes in prayer prior to bed praying to Tempus for the opportunity to please him battle while on their mission. 

"Thank you very much for hospitality, Madame. It is very nice to see you are well after all that has transpired." Neya says to Freona with a fond smile. "Let us hope our next meeting is much sooner."

She then returns to the Laughing Goblin for another night's stay.

Madame Freona was very happy to see you all, and she says so. To Neya, she responds: "I hope to see you bientôt as well."

Leaving the Tea Kettle with their to-go bags, CRAPers go back to their respective beds, be them either at the Laughing Goblin or at the House of the Hand. They each have a pleasant and safe night, waking up ready for the day's mission.

The fresh food Madame Freona sent you home with doesn't necessarily keep well like rations would, so you all decide independently that it is best to enjoy it as your breakfast this morning. After some minor preparations, you all meet in front of the House of the Hand and walk together to the northern edge of town, where you can see the treeline that announces the Quivering Forest. The trees rise up before you but look unwell; the shadows seem too deep; the colors too pale; the forest sounds too muffled (nature checks welcomed.) This is very different from what Neya recalls from her last visit to these woods.

CRAP is several minutes early, such that only the nobles (Lord Valero Brokengulf and Lady Dala Silmerhelve), their advisors (Senitir and Olisara Lightsong), and their respective retinues are present. There are dozens of lightly armored soldiers here, some emblazoned with the castle-on-the-mountain emblem of House Brokengulf, and others with the armored-jousting-training-dummy of House Silmerhelve.

Slowly but surely, all other members of the hunting party arrive from within Phlan. The exception is Seranolla the Whisperer, who approaches from within the forest itself. Lord Valero shouts: "You all know your teams and your missions. Stick to the agreed strategies. Dark times have come to the Quivering Forest. May gods and heroes end the corruption on this day!"

He pauses to hear the cheers thrown at him, mostly from the nobles' retinues. He then concludes: "Any questions before we separate into our tactical teams?" 

(OOC: Check our OOC chat for details: everyone gains 1,000 XP for completing this episode's second act. Be sure to hit the "Long Rest" button in your character sheets.)

(@Lerus: I'm assuming Doozey's Natural Explorer applies since the check is related to his favored terrain. If not, knock off the 3 fromt he below roll)

(Also, has it been 2 days IC since the raven was used? It feels as such, since it was used the evening prior Doozey's kidnapping, but I could be wrong.)

Nature: 14.

Both Doozey and Taters cannot help but shudder after staring at the forest for even a few moments; sensing as well as seeing for the first time the 'wrongness' Seranolla warned off last. The former's expression then hardens into one of determination asr Lord Valero's shouted to all. Only for a brief moment did it soften after, having turned and realized for Seranolla had arrived on the scene. Despite temptations to march right on over and question her more about the previous evenings hopeful news, he stayed in place beside the others, and merely nodded in acknowledgement of presence prior to focusing on Lord Valero.

He himself had no questions, and half-expected anything forgotten would no doubt be spoken by either Neya or Utar.