The isolated mountain village of Drefeld. Rumors have made it even as far as the Sword Coast of a mysterious string of deaths of both animal and townsfolk, with the human kingdom of Valgrand seemingly unable or unwilling to investigate thoroughly. On the road to Drefeld Village, a single cart driven by a human man. His horses pull the cart along the relatively rough road, and this is where you find yourselves; Grell the dragonborn, Kalgren the Half-Elf, Vigil the Tiefling, and Zack the Human. It is about midday, the weather is clear, and the grasslands on either side of the road are rolling, peaceful, and clear. 

Up ahead, the mountains loom. At least one of the peaks seems to pierce the clouds, and a cozy looking forest nestling down their slopes and into the valley ahead. It won't be too terribly along before the group would enter the forest, but for now... All is quiet.

Zack looks out at the peaceful surrounds & closes his eyes to breath in the country air. He brushes something off his dark grey long coat, and inspects the light grey trim & collar to make sure there are no creases. He turns his attention to the others in the cart. An interesting group to say the least, he thinks to himself. 
Finally he breaks his silence, “Good day all. How have your travels fared to this point? I suspect you travel to Drefeld in response to rumours of mystery and intrigue? In honesty, I hope to take up the case. Zack Finn, investigator,” and he holds out his hand for anyone who will take it. 

Sitting silently for the majority of the trip, a large and muscularly built Gold Dragonborn sits nearer the end of the cart, his weight clearly having some effect as the cart sinks slightly at this end. Grell hails from a distant place, but travels in search of those in need, feeding a deep insatiable thirst to do good in the world. This has brought him to where he is today; on his way to Drefeld, after hearing of strange occurrences and disappearances. Sounded like help was needed to Grell.

Stirring from a not-quite-slumber, Grell looks at the human as he begins speaking. Not usually one for company, Grell is happy for the interaction, leaning his bulky frame forward to gently clasp Zack's outstretched hand. "Grell" the Dragonborn merely says, with a hint of a kind smile. 

Leaning back, Grell mimics the human's deep breath and takes a moment to look around the countryside. To his side sits his mighty dragon-headed maul, which Grell places a hand upon and leans as he looks out to take in the scenery. "In Grell's travels, rumours like these are often more than rumours..." Grells says with a deep rumbling tone, still facing the countryside, but clearly directed to Zack. "... let us hope that nothing is wrong, and we can just enjoy this place..." he smirks, unconvinced even himself.

Shifting in his seat (causing the cart to rock under his great weight), Grell's simple road-weary clothes, shin-length woolen brown trousers and loose flowing white shirt, show no sign of armour or protection, but then again, Grell doesn't seem the type to care...

Up until this point, the black leather-wearing individual had been casually napping at the front of the cart. The traits of a tiefling are unmistakable. Long ram-like horns running to the back of his head, scarlet-toned skin and a tail coming from his backside. His hair was ebony-colored and his left cheek bore a large battle scar. Around his neck hung various trinkets and amulets with esoteric markings.

Roused from his sleep by the sound of conversation, he slowly opened his eyes to look at the people he was traveling with. At first glance, they didn’t seem like bad people. But the tiefling wasn’t much of a conversationalist. He tried to go back to sleep, when the dragonborn mentioned rumors. That piqued his attention. Were they all going to investigate as well? 

He scoffed. "You might be right and nothing’s wrong. But I wouldn’t bet too much coin on it. People don’t just start dying for no reason." The tiefling began stretching and straigthening his back. After a moment of silence, he realized he had failed to introduce himself. "Oh...Name’s Vigil, by the way."

The figure at the back of the cart opened an eye as the others spoke up. He was a tall fellow but a bit thin, or at least that is how he appeared to be sitting across from the broad-shouldered dragonborn. He had a black goatee and hair neatly combed back revealing pointed but regular sized ears, the only clear indicator of his half-elf lineage. He wore a worn leather cuirass but no cloak, something he began to regret by this point. The rest of his attire was unremarkable, regular clothes for a regular day.

'People die everyday.' The man said in a flat tone as he turned to the others on the cart. He had his arms crossed in front of him, both for warmth and to appear unassuming but from this angle there were two other things about his person that drew the attention. The first was a small pendant in the shape of the sun hanging underneath his beard, half visible through the black hair. The second was the eyepatch covering his left eye. At first glance the man looked like a pirate that had been lost on land. He seized the others up for a moment

'Tiefling, that's going to stick out like a sore thumb. The dragonborn looks like he can deck me with one punch. And there's mister hotshot investigator. You never tell people that, puts them on edge.'

He mustered up a smile. 'Kalgren.' He said. 'And as long as we're sharing: I'm here because,' he pointed his right index finger towards the sky, 'the boss wants me here.'

Nodding to both the tiefling and the half-elf as they introduce themselves, Grell thinks "hmm, a most interesting group all going to the same place, for almost the same reason" Grell ponders to himself. "Perhaps there is an alliance waiting to happen". 

Leaning back and stretching into the sky, Grell lets out a yawn that's half yawn and half growl, like a lion stretching in the sun. "We must be close" he says to no one in particular, looking over the drivers head into the distance. At that moment Grell's stomach growls, almost as loud as his yawn, and he clutches a hand to his torso. "Please let us be close, Grell has not eaten in hours...".

Trying to distract himself from his evident desperate hunger, the big Dragonborn turns to the half-elf across from him. "You have a commander in the sky...?" Grell seemed confused, on the cusp of understanding rather than being dimwitted.

Kalgren tapped the little sun pendant underneath his beard. 'Amaunator.' He said as the disk lighted up under the effect of a Light spell. 'The Keeper of the Eternal Sun, the Light of Law, the Yellow God. Sky Daddy if you're into that.' He grinned. 'Praise the sun and all that.' The light began to hurt his eyes so Kalgren cancelled the spell and the little sun faded back to normal.

'So a human, a dragonborn, a tiefling and a half-elf drive into town. Sounds like the start of a bad joke.' Kalgren leaned out the cart a bit to see if the town was getting close. 'Might as well be: Drefeld is so remote, Valgrand doesn't even bother checking in on it.'

The Dragonborn grunts and nods, realisation wafting over his face as Kalgren explains his God, his eyes glancing away slightly as the Light shines.

As the Light fades and Kalgren changes the subject, Grell follows the half-elf's gaze over the driver once more. "Grell knows little of Valgrand, only that this Drefled place sounded in need. And Grell goes where there are those that need help" he says, a hint of some self-pride seeping into his words as he speaks.

"I'm sure people die everyday, but I'm sure that rumours would not have been started in Drefeld because of some everyday deaths." Zack says to no one in particular. Looking ahead of the cart he notes, "Though I'm sure that soon enough we will be able to find out for ourselves, the true nature of why we are here... even if we do resemble the start of a bad joke as you say."

The display of magic from Kalgren surprises Vigil for a moment. The light is bright and makes The tiefling squint his eyes. As it fades, he can’t help but snicker.

"Interesting. A man of faith." He grins at the corner of his mouth. "Well, to each their own. But I’d rather have faith in the steel at my side than some uncaring patron. Makes for a more reliable ally in my opinion."

The party soon enters the forest. It seems quaint. Birds chirping, deer occasionally poking their heads up over the underbrush before darting away. The driver of the cart looks over his shoulder with a dry smile. He turns his eyes back to the road.

"Drefeld is also quite the diverse place, so it is a wonder why it ain't bein' helped much. Goliaths and humans founded the joint, and I hear a tieflin's the priest."

He chuckles. "We'll be there soon, gentlemen. Your fee was already paid, so don't go expectin' me to take your coin."

"Diversity is the spice of life," Zack shrugs, "And there ain't anything wrong with a tiefling being a priest. Everyone's gotta believe in something. Our tiefling comrade, Vigil, there believes in his own steel, Kalgren here follows Amaunator, while I prefer my books and knowledge."

'The local holy head honcho looks like a devil.' Kalgren chuckled to himself. 'Sounds about right.'

He glanced at their own tiefling present. 'No offense... Vigil, was it?'

Kalgren turned his eyes back to their surroundings. 'Can't wait 'til we arrive.' He mumbled with a bored expression on his face. 'I'm not much of a nature boy, give me the city life any time.'

He planned on closing his eye again for the remainder of the road but there was something the driver had mentioned that he felt he needed to address: 'So who is paying for our transport?'

The Gold Dragonborn leans back, looking up into the forest canopy; the leaves rustling, the sounds of nature all about. Grell was fond of the outdoors, having been raised in not much more than a tribal village in the mountains. He has also travelled a lot since leaving his home, and more nights under the stars and in forests than not. Still, after this journey, he was looking forward to something to eat and drink at the local inn.

As the Half-Elf picks up on something the driver says, Grell gets interested, leaning his attention to the driver's response...

Zack, being the curious man that he is, wonders what the chuckle was for, more so than who's paid the bill. He watches the driver closely to figure out if he's on the level, or hiding something (Insight: 6).

As attention shifts intently to the conversation, regardless if merely a nonchalant comment, Grell's scales prickle. He lifts his head slightly, scanning the immediate area of the forest, looking deeper into the trees, and along the path the cart follows. Traveling often, the Dragonborn had learned to always keep an eye open to trouble. And, after all, they were heading to a place that was full of it...

Perception: 18

Seemingly like all the other passengers, Vigil grew suspicious of the driver’s comment. What was so funny about it? There was something off about this whole story and everyone seemed to have gathered this much.

"That’s mighty kind of this patron to pay the expenses of 4 complete strangers. We ought to thank him once we arrive in town. Who might this generous benefactor be, driver?

"Some wannabe wizard, Wulfa. Think he runs the inn." The driver says, shrugging. He believes he is telling the truth, or so Zack can gather.

Grell, on the other hand, looks around the forest and sees...

Two deer dart across the road. The driver halts his horses and leads to the cart jostling a bit. "Ack, stupid deer. Why are you dartin' cross the road for...?" He grumbles.

With the stop in the road though, Grell and Zack are both able to see something that doesn't look normal. A couple of the trees nearby have small discolorations on the bark. Grell only notices since he was actively surveying the area, and Zack happened to be looking in that direction, from which the deer came.

“Hold” Grell says simply, yet confidently. He catches Zack’s eye looking at the same thing, and gives him a nod. With this Grell vaults out of the cart, landing with a thud in the track below. He reaches back in to gather his maul, lifting the heavy weapon out and holding in hand as he stroll towards the discoloured tree.

”Grell does not know what this is, but Grell has a bad feeling...”

'Why are we stopping?' Kalgren asked as he watched Grell jump out of the cart. He let his eyes follow the dragonborn but also reached for his crossbow, just to be safe.