Grzak has fallen slightly behind and been listening and looking around. Just as he makes out a moving shadow and is about to reach out to warn the party members, a loud muffled tinny voice cries out.
"Sir Paladin Sir, there are bad people following you!"
It is Gabriel's sword yelling loudly from within its sheath.
All heads turn towards the strangely reverberating voice. A couple shadows peek out from behind buildings behind you.
"Quickly, the Inn is right there!" yells Sildar, beginning to run but looking back, waving you forward.
You see a sign for Stonehill Inn just across the square. (or more like the muddy circle that probably passes as the market during the day)
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"To the nine hells with this shit!" Gabriel mutters to himself. with a hiss Gabriel drawa mighty V (yup new nickname) from his scabard. He turns to where the shadowy figures are.
Muttering the spell of guidance
"So help me Torm if anyone of you get between me and a glass of wine, I swear I will send your soul screaming to the great judge Kelemvor! NOW.....GO.....THE......****....AWAY!!"
Wind whistles through the square (large muddy circular area)
"Well lad," Sildar says with grin, "If you're ever interested in a job with more security and great benefits, the Lord's Alliance would be lucky to have you. Now let's get out of this damned wind and I'll talk Toblen into making hot mulled cider, first round on me!"
(OOC: I'm assuming we short rested along the way, as such have attuned to eyes of charming and used arcane recovery. Also, what happened to the supplies we found in the cave?)
Alarion slips the glasses out of his pocket and rests them on his forehead. He returns his wand to his side and continues walking. He resolves to look for a shop which might sell him some herbs and incense. He has been wanting some magical companionship in the form of a familiar. Perhaps one of those intelligent winged cats, the Tressym? One of them would be a fine companion. He realizes he has zoned out for a minute and brings himself back to reality.
(Long rest was had in Cragmaw cave before setting out this morning. Nothing has happened to drain your resources since then other than Sildar's insistence to reach Phandalin before dark. Attunement achieved.)
Whether it was a close call or paranoia is hard to say. Sildar hustles you all into Stonehill Inn.
The hum of conversation dies down as you enter the common room. Heads turns, eyes glance sideways at you, then away again.
A balding head pops up to look over the bar, then a short plump man straightens up with a broad smile. “Sildar, aye, good to see a friendly face! What’ll it be? Oh, and you’ve brought a few friends.” The man’s smile falters when he catches sight of Cringer. He glances back at Sildar, still smiling but now it looks forced and wary.
Old fieldstone rises part way up the walls of this large open room. Other than the foundation, this large log cabin appears to have been recently built, smelling faintly of pine as well as smoke from the fireplace. Half a dozen patrons are sitting around rough wooden tables on handmade benches.
Grzak would have stowed his javelin before crossing the threshold and kept the greataxe in his non-dominant hand in a casual carry disposition. Upon entry, he will overhear the “barkeep” greeting Sildar and wait to see if there will be introductions. Otherwise, he will be scanning the room looking for a table and chairs where he can take a load off. He’s pretty sure he’s developed a couple of blisters while breaking in these new boots.
Grzak would like to find a seat with his back to a wall (windowless) and good sight lines to the front entrance, kitchen entrance and any other noticeable passages of ingress or egress. He will doff his harness of javelins and backpack and set them to one side of his chair and then stand his greataxe, blade down/handle up on the other side. He wants to be ready, in case our shadowy welcoming party decides to join us inside.
Kathrine places a hand on Cringer's shoulder, linking them as they walk into the inn. As she sees the inkkeep's reaction to the goblin she will smile down at Cringer, "We have you my friend, ignore the small-minds of others, your friends are here with you."
"Cringer thank pritty lady." Cringer says as he bobs his head, though continues to look with trepidation to the others around the group.
Sildar has introduced you all, Cringer included, to Tobren, the innkeeper, and when his wife Trilena brings over a couple steaming clay pitchers and mugs for the group (alcoholic or non, your choice), she greets you all kindly. She seems more curious about the presence of a goblin in their midst than anything else, but too circumspect to ask. She has a gentle, patient manner.
Trilena offers to bring a platter of whatever meats, cheeses, breads and pickled vegetables are left, and Sildar says "Put in on my tab my dear, I'll be seeing Elmar Barthan in the morning and will return with a good tip. For that matter, if you have rooms for all of us, put that on my tab as well."
She assures him that all will be taken care of. Seemingly as an afterthought, Sildar asks "Any chance you've seen a wizard by the name of Iarno Albrek in here lately?"
She pauses, purses her lips, then shakes her head. "Perhaps my husband would know, but no, sorry, can't say it rings a bell."
"Ah, well, I might as well fill you in." says Sildar, warming his hands on a mug of hot cider.
"As Gabriel would recall from our earlier journey, before the caravan was waylaid, I was hoping to catch up with Gundren Rockseeker. He's one of the three dwarven brothers who believes that they found the entrance to the Lost Mine of Phandelver. But that's not the only reason I've come to Phandalin." he pauses, and surreptitiously glances around while taking a sip of his drink.
"Iarno Albrek is a fellow member of the Lord's Alliance. He was the one who came to investigate the dwarven brother's claims over a fortnight ago. We haven't heard from him since."
Sildar scowls. "Perhaps met with the same fate I did on the road. But I have to be sure... if there is any chance that he made it here alive."
“Tomorrow morning I’ll check with Elmar Barthen. He runs a local trading post here, and does business with the Lord’s Alliance, so he’ll have some cash on hand for me to recoup with for now.”
Sildar glances around at the other patrons of the Inn, perhaps looking for anyone he recognizes.
At one table, a farmer and a halfling are debating with a stout young man about something.
There are two men sitting closer to the fire, better dressed than most. One of them is reading a paper of some sort, holding a glass of wine that he occasionally sips. The other man has been glancing towards the party.
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Grzak has fallen slightly behind and been listening and looking around. Just as he makes out a moving shadow and is about to reach out to warn the party members, a loud muffled tinny voice cries out.
"Sir Paladin Sir, there are bad people following you!"
It is Gabriel's sword yelling loudly from within its sheath.
All heads turn towards the strangely reverberating voice. A couple shadows peek out from behind buildings behind you.
"Quickly, the Inn is right there!" yells Sildar, beginning to run but looking back, waving you forward.
You see a sign for Stonehill Inn just across the square. (or more like the muddy circle that probably passes as the market during the day)
"To the nine hells with this shit!" Gabriel mutters to himself. with a hiss Gabriel drawa mighty V (yup new nickname) from his scabard. He turns to where the shadowy figures are.
Muttering the spell of guidance
"So help me Torm if anyone of you get between me and a glass of wine, I swear I will send your soul screaming to the great judge Kelemvor! NOW.....GO.....THE......****....AWAY!!"
Intimidation check: 3
Guidance roll:4
Alarion spins (OOC: Was there time on the journey to take a short rest?) and whips out his wand, prepared to defend himself.
(As much as I use intimidate I should have picked it as one of my skills lol)
Dead silence.
The shadows disappear back behind the buildings.
Wind whistles through the square (large muddy circular area)
"Well lad," Sildar says with grin, "If you're ever interested in a job with more security and great benefits, the Lord's Alliance would be lucky to have you. Now let's get out of this damned wind and I'll talk Toblen into making hot mulled cider, first round on me!"
Grzak will add his "voice" to Gabriel's warning in the form of an orcish war roar.
Intimidation: 5
Mana - Verdan Bard - Dragon Heist
”I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.” - Douglas Adams
”I’ve suffered a great many catastrophes in my life. Most of them never happened.” - Mark Twain
(OOC: I'm assuming we short rested along the way, as such have attuned to eyes of charming and used arcane recovery. Also, what happened to the supplies we found in the cave?)
Alarion slips the glasses out of his pocket and rests them on his forehead. He returns his wand to his side and continues walking. He resolves to look for a shop which might sell him some herbs and incense. He has been wanting some magical companionship in the form of a familiar. Perhaps one of those intelligent winged cats, the Tressym? One of them would be a fine companion. He realizes he has zoned out for a minute and brings himself back to reality.
(Long rest was had in Cragmaw cave before setting out this morning. Nothing has happened to drain your resources since then other than Sildar's insistence to reach Phandalin before dark. Attunement achieved.)
Whether it was a close call or paranoia is hard to say. Sildar hustles you all into Stonehill Inn.
The hum of conversation dies down as you enter the common room. Heads turns, eyes glance sideways at you, then away again.
A balding head pops up to look over the bar, then a short plump man straightens up with a broad smile. “Sildar, aye, good to see a friendly face! What’ll it be? Oh, and you’ve brought a few friends.” The man’s smile falters when he catches sight of Cringer. He glances back at Sildar, still smiling but now it looks forced and wary.
Old fieldstone rises part way up the walls of this large open room. Other than the foundation, this large log cabin appears to have been recently built, smelling faintly of pine as well as smoke from the fireplace. Half a dozen patrons are sitting around rough wooden tables on handmade benches.
Sildar walks forward and clasps the man's hand. He introduces you all, including Cringer, to Tolbren Stonehill, the innkeeper.
Sildar sees a woman looking out from the kitchen and calls out "Trilena, a round of your good mulled cider if you please!"
Grzak would have stowed his javelin before crossing the threshold and kept the greataxe in his non-dominant hand in a casual carry disposition. Upon entry, he will overhear the “barkeep” greeting Sildar and wait to see if there will be introductions. Otherwise, he will be scanning the room looking for a table and chairs where he can take a load off. He’s pretty sure he’s developed a couple of blisters while breaking in these new boots.
Mana - Verdan Bard - Dragon Heist
”I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.” - Douglas Adams
”I’ve suffered a great many catastrophes in my life. Most of them never happened.” - Mark Twain
Alarion likewise enters calmly.
Grzak would like to find a seat with his back to a wall (windowless) and good sight lines to the front entrance, kitchen entrance and any other noticeable passages of ingress or egress. He will doff his harness of javelins and backpack and set them to one side of his chair and then stand his greataxe, blade down/handle up on the other side. He wants to be ready, in case our shadowy welcoming party decides to join us inside.
Mana - Verdan Bard - Dragon Heist
”I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.” - Douglas Adams
”I’ve suffered a great many catastrophes in my life. Most of them never happened.” - Mark Twain
Alarion motions to Grzak to relax and sits down, confident he can diffuse any fight through his charms, mundane and magical alike.
Grzak will heave a mighty sigh of relief once the cider is delivered.
Mana - Verdan Bard - Dragon Heist
”I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.” - Douglas Adams
”I’ve suffered a great many catastrophes in my life. Most of them never happened.” - Mark Twain
Kathrine places a hand on Cringer's shoulder, linking them as they walk into the inn. As she sees the inkkeep's reaction to the goblin she will smile down at Cringer, "We have you my friend, ignore the small-minds of others, your friends are here with you."
"Cringer thank pritty lady." Cringer says as he bobs his head, though continues to look with trepidation to the others around the group.
Sildar has introduced you all, Cringer included, to Tobren, the innkeeper, and when his wife Trilena brings over a couple steaming clay pitchers and mugs for the group (alcoholic or non, your choice), she greets you all kindly. She seems more curious about the presence of a goblin in their midst than anything else, but too circumspect to ask. She has a gentle, patient manner.
Trilena offers to bring a platter of whatever meats, cheeses, breads and pickled vegetables are left, and Sildar says "Put in on my tab my dear, I'll be seeing Elmar Barthan in the morning and will return with a good tip. For that matter, if you have rooms for all of us, put that on my tab as well."
She assures him that all will be taken care of. Seemingly as an afterthought, Sildar asks "Any chance you've seen a wizard by the name of Iarno Albrek in here lately?"
She pauses, purses her lips, then shakes her head. "Perhaps my husband would know, but no, sorry, can't say it rings a bell."
"Who is this Iarno Albrek?" Kathrine asks in an off-hand manner, giving Sildar an interested look.
Alarion is also visibly interested in another wizard.
"Ah, well, I might as well fill you in." says Sildar, warming his hands on a mug of hot cider.
"As Gabriel would recall from our earlier journey, before the caravan was waylaid, I was hoping to catch up with Gundren Rockseeker. He's one of the three dwarven brothers who believes that they found the entrance to the Lost Mine of Phandelver. But that's not the only reason I've come to Phandalin." he pauses, and surreptitiously glances around while taking a sip of his drink.
"Iarno Albrek is a fellow member of the Lord's Alliance. He was the one who came to investigate the dwarven brother's claims over a fortnight ago. We haven't heard from him since."
Sildar scowls. "Perhaps met with the same fate I did on the road. But I have to be sure... if there is any chance that he made it here alive."
“Tomorrow morning I’ll check with Elmar Barthen. He runs a local trading post here, and does business with the Lord’s Alliance, so he’ll have some cash on hand for me to recoup with for now.”
Sildar glances around at the other patrons of the Inn, perhaps looking for anyone he recognizes.
At one table, a farmer and a halfling are debating with a stout young man about something.
There are two men sitting closer to the fire, better dressed than most. One of them is reading a paper of some sort, holding a glass of wine that he occasionally sips. The other man has been glancing towards the party.