“I gratefully thank You, O Morning Lord, for restoring the light to my eyes, that I may view your radiant splendor.”
Thanks
Thank you for guiding us safely through danger to see another morning.
Thank you for sending me friends that I can share my adventure with.
Thank you for giving me the power to help those friends when they get hurt.
Blessings
I pray for blessings for my allies, who keep me company on the road.
I pray that the red one can find more books. Her knowledge is important.
I pray for Sonny and his family's continued health. That he may continue to protect and support us. And that he might find some soap soon. Stinky.
I pray for guidance for the green one. That he can keep leading us safely. And that he can stop getting shot with arrows. I would miss him a lot if he died.
I pray for Viola, now my friend! I hope she doesn't get hurt again, either.
And I'll also pray for my enemies, who we felled in battle. I hope they can find peace in the land beyond.
Closing
Thank you Lathander, Inspiration’s Dawn, for all you do. For the warmth and light you wash over us. Till the next dawn comes.
The rutted track emerged from a wooded hillside, and the party caught their first glimpse of Phandalin. The town consisted of forty or fifty simple log buildings, some built on old fieldstone foundations. More old ruins- crumbling stone walls covered in ivy and briars- surrounded the newer houses and shops, implying that it had been a much larger town in centuries past. Most of the newer buildings were set on the sides of the cart track, which widened into a muddy main street of sorts as it climbed toward a ruined manor house on a hillside at the east side of town.
As the party approached, they saw children playing on the town green and townsfolk tending to chores or running errands at shops. Many people looked up as they approached, but all returned to their business as the party passed by.
Sildar, now recovered from the wounds sustained at the Cragmaw lair, seemed much more at ease. “My friends,” he said, “let us secure lodgings. I’m told the local inn is very quaint.”
“Oh, yes please!” Rose gasped. “I would do unspeakable things for a bed and a bath.”
“Shouldn't we drop our stuff off first?” Sonny asked. “We've still got a job to do.”
“That's very dutiful of you, Sonny.” Verne replied. “We'll first head to the Lionshield Coster to drop off the spoils from the goblin hoard, then Barthen’s Provisions to complete Gundren’s request, and after that: straight away to the inn.”
“That's good.” Peri sighed. “Sonny could use a wash.”
“Peri!” Viola hissed. “What's the matter with you?”
Sonny gave a small laugh, “Nah, it's alright,” he said. “S'that why y’all have been so weird with me all day? You know you guys can tell me if I stink.”
“Respectfully, my friend,” Verne offered. “We thought it odd you were not already aware.”
“No, I wouldn't have any way of knowing.” Sonny smiled and pointed to his nose. “She's defective- no sense of smell.”
“How did that happen?” Rose asked. “Seasonal allergies, some kind of sickness?”
“Nah, nothing like that.” Sonny replied. “When I was a kid, I was re-shoeing one of our horses and I guess she didn't like the way I approached ‘cause she kicked me clean in the face. Totally smashed my nose. The local clerics were able to fix the structural damage, but it left me with a bum sniffer.”
“You were kicked in the face by a horse…as a child…and you lived?” Viola asked, dumbfounded.
“Yeah, I guess.” Sonny laughed. “Thankfully it didn't leave me too funny looking- just the right amount.”
The others didn't say anything, but stared with newfound respect for (and possibly fear of) the young warrior as they rode toward the Lionshield Coster.
The party rolled up to the trading post, signified by the blue lion emblazoned on the shield-shaped wooden sign that hung above the door. Sonny heeled the horses, then got to work unloading the bulky supplies with Sildar while the others entered the shop.
The interior of the Lionshield Coster was clean, but modest. Wooden shelves and displays lined the walls, each carrying a selection of armor and weapons. Behind the counter was a dark-haired woman in the customary royal blue uniform of Lionshields employees. “Welcome to the Lionshield Coster,” she said, “how can I help you today?”
“We're actually here to return something of yours.” Verne offered.
“Oh?” The woman raised an eyebrow. “Well that's too bad. See, we've got an ‘all sales are final’ policy here. So unless you plan to buy something, you'd best be on your way.”
“Listen here, elf.” The woman growled, folding her hands on the desk. “I've got enough trouble on my hands without some two-copper punks coming in here trying to make some quick coin with a phony return. Now I'll ask you one more time to please leave.”
Thankfully, at that moment, Sonny stepped through the front door of the coster, bearing a crate on each shoulder. Immediately, the woman straightened up, seeing the blue lion crest on the face of the crate. Sonny, meeting the woman's gaze, flashed a clumsy smile and sidled up to the counter.
“Hey there miss,” the young warrior said, oblivious to the previous tension. “My friends and I recovered some of your stuff and we thought we'd return it to ya. Is there anywhere I should drop it off?”
“Oh, right there is just fine.” The woman said, gesturing to a space next to the counter. Sonny obliged, gently setting down his load as Sildar walked in with the rest of the recovered goods.
“So that's what you meant.” The woman said, her face awash with embarrassment. “I'm sorry, folks. We've had so many problems with bandits and troublemakers lately that I've been a bit on edge. I hope you can forgive me.”
“Pay it no mind.” Verne smiled kindly. “Caution is a wise practice when you're in the business of weaponry. My name is Verne, and these are my friends Peri, Rose, Sildar, Sonny and Viola. It is nice to meet you.”
“The name's Linene, and I appreciate that, but still,” she replied. “You've done me a service and I'd like to show you my gratitude.” She reached into a pouch beneath the counter and pulled out fifty gold pieces that she distributed between them.
“You mentioned something about bandits?” Rose asked, pulling her satchel close. “Are they a common nuisance around here?”
“‘Fraid so.” Linene replied grimly. “Especially lately. Phandalin has always been a bit ‘rough and tumble’- comes with the territory of being a frontier town. But lately we've had trouble with a bunch of crooks who call themselves the Redbrands.”
“The Redbrands?” Rose pulled out a journal and began scrawling out notes. “What are they like?”
“They're a bunch of thieves and bullies,” Linene growled, “who like to throw their weight around and hassle the townsfolk. They mostly hang around the Sleeping Giant Taphouse, get drunk and beat up anyone who looks at them funny. You'd best avoid them if you can.”
“We will keep that in mind, thank you,” said Verne.
“While you're here, can I interest you in any weapons or armor?” Linene asked.
“I could use some sturdier armor.” Viola piped up. “Ideally something with better coverage.” The halfling gestured to where she'd been shot earlier.
“Sure thing.” Linene replied. She turned into the back and retrieved a set of studded leathers that she held down for Viola to feel.
“Ooh, that's very nice!” Viola cooed, tapping her finger on one of the studs. “I'll take it.”
“Great! We'll need to size that down for you, but since I owe you a favor I can waive the tailoring fee. Without that, the total will be forty five gold pieces.”
Viola quickly withdrew her hand and stepped back, her face scandalized. “That can't be right,” she gasped. “I said I wanted the armor, not your whole shop!”
“Armor is an investment, ma'am.” Linene replied, a hint of irritation in her voice. “You need to consider the materials, cost of labor to make it, and how valuable it is.”
“Hmm.” Viola stroked her chin in mock contemplation. “Well, now I've considered it, and it's still way too much!”
“Viola…” Verne warned. But the halfling remained obstinate. She folded her arms and locked eyes with the saleswoman, who similarly didn't seem ready to back down. But eventually, Linene sighed and said, “Alright, miss. Tell you what. You've all done me a favor, and I'd like to recognize that. If you want, I'll let you trade in your current armor and knock ten gold pieces off the final price.”
Viola opened her mouth, seemingly to argue further, but a look from Verne made her reconsider. “Fine. Thirty gold pieces it is.”
“I think you mean thirty-five, little lady.” Linene said, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, that's right.” Viola laughed. “How silly of me.”
Linene frowned, but didn't belabor the point any further. “Like I said, we'll need to re-size the armor for you, which should take about two days. So if you'd like, you could put twenty gold down today and pay the rest when it's finished.”
“Sure, sounds great.” Viola grumbled as she fished out her newly acquired gold. “Like slowly ripping off a bandage.”
“Viola, please.” Verne sighed. “If it isn't too much trouble, I would like to partake in this deal as well. As you can see, it would do me some good.” The ranger gestured to the many holes that now dotted his leathers.
“Oh my,” the clerk replied. “Yes, let's get you into something sturdier.”
Verne and Viola each placed twenty gold on the counter, which Linene carefully placed into a pouch. Verne also picked up a bundle of arrows for an additional gold piece. Rose had no need for weapons or armor, and Peri's and Sonny's equipment already met what the store could provide, so they held onto their coin. Then, with their business completed, the party took their leave of the Lionshield Coster.
When they got outside, Sildar said, “Go ahead to Barthen's Provisions. I'll head to the Stonehill Inn and secure us lodging for the night. Meet me there when you're finished.” The party agreed, and Sonny drove the wagon down the road.
Where the Lionshield Coster had been a small, modest trading post, Barthen's Provisions was an expansive emporium of supplies. The building was nearly twice the size of the coster, and the shelves were lined with all manner of adventuring equipment. Backpacks, bedrolls, ropes and rations sat on well-kept displays, clearly labeled and with pops of color to draw the eye.
Sonny drove the wagon to the rear entrance of the shop, where they were greeted by two clerks who introduced themselves as Ander and Thistle. The party went through their own introductions before explaining to the two clerks why they were there. Upon hearing Gundren’s name, the two nodded and said that they'd been expecting the party's arrival. After securing the goods (and profusely apologizing for the white pawprints across the interior of the cart) the party was led inside and introduced to the owner of the shop, mister Elmar Barthen.
“Thank you so very much,” the shopkeeper said, clapping his thin hands together. “It's so nice to have adventurers such as yourselves to help our little community here.”
“Nice enough to get some coin?” Viola asked.
Rose rolled her eyes. “Honestly, woman, do you think of nothing else?” She huffed.
“What, are we supposed to just do everything for free?” Viola growled. “Not that I'd expect you to know, princess, but here in the real world things cost money.”
The two girls glowered at each other, and Elmar nervously raised his hands from the counter. “Now, now, there's no need to argue.” He said, drawing gold from a nearby pouch. “Here are ten gold pieces for each of you, as I discussed with Gundren. Speaking of which, where is that old goat? I was under the impression that he would be coming ahead of you to investigate the excavation site.”
The party looked at each other, and Elmar’s face fell with the uncomfortable silence. “Oh dear,” he muttered. “Has something happened?”
Verne explained all that had occurred with the Cragmaw Hideout and Gundren's kidnapping. Elmar sat back on a stool behind the counter and placed his head in his hands.
“How dreadful,” he cried. “Gundren is an old friend of mine, so please, if you can, get him back safely.”
“Of course.” Sonny replied.
“It's nice to meet friends of his,” Peri said, “he doesn't seem like the type who'd have very many.”
Elmar laughed, “Yes, he does have a bit of a gruff nature to him, doesn't he? But he's a good man beneath that rocky exterior. A good leader, too. Got a lot of us excited when he talked about finding the lost mine in the nearby hills. Last I heard, his brothers, Nundro and Tharden, were camped out over there, prepping the site for excavation. It sure would be something if they found it.”
“Sildar mentioned something about that.” Rose said. “Do you really think that it's the lost mine? People have been looking for it for centuries!”
“What's so special about an old mine?” Peri tilted their head, curiously.
“Are you serious?” Rose asked. “It has one of the most powerful magical artifacts ever created!”
The witch turned to the others, but was met with blank stares.
“The Forge of Spells?” she asked in disbelief.
“None of us know what you're talking about, bookworm, so just explain already.” Viola rolled her eyes.
“Fine then,” Rose huffed. “Five hundred years ago, clans of dwarves and gnomes made an agreement known as The Phandelver's Pact to share a mine in a cavern known as Wave Echo Cave. The cave had a variety of precious minerals and sources of magical power, which attracted spellcasters from across the land who worked together with the dwarves and gnomes to create the Forge of Spells, which could create magical items. Things were running smoothly until an orcish army swept through the north, destroying everything in their path. In the resulting battles, the cavern collapsed, and the location of Wave Echo Cave (and the Forge of Spells) was lost to time.”
“You've an impressive knowledge of history, miss.” Elmar said.
“Oh, I just like to read.” Rose blushed. “Faerun's history is interesting to me. So much more straightforward than the history of the courts back home.”
“Oh? Where is ‘home’ for you?” The shopkeeper asked.
Rose's smile fell and her posture tensed. “Far, far, away from here.”
Sensing that he was approaching sensitive territory, Elmar changed the subject. “While I have you here, is there anything I can interest you in? We've all manner of supplies perfect for brave adventurers such as yourselves.”
“I could do with some more rations,” Verne said. “I fed most of mine to some wolves, and it would be nice to replenish.”
Elmar widened his eyes, but said nothing as he grabbed ten rations and handed them to the elf. The others used the opportunity to replenish their stores as well. When they had concluded their business, Elmar waved them goodbye and thanked them once again for their services. “Oh, and one more thing!” he shouted as they were walking out the door. “Avoid the Redbrands if you can- they've been making all sorts of trouble for the townsfolk.”
The party waved their acknowledgement and continued down the road to the Stonehill Inn.
“These Redbrands sure do seem like trouble.” Peri said. “I hope we don't run into them.”
“Eh, I'm not worried.” Viola replied. “They sound like a bunch of losers who only mess with people weaker than them. Nobody who can actually fight beats on old people.”
“Maybe we should do something about them.” Sonny offered. “If they're really going around hurting people for no reason, I'd feel weird ignoring it.”
“An admirable sentiment,” Verne replied. “But we need not get involved in local squabbles. Little good can come from seeking out trouble.”
“But if we know something bad is happening and we don't help out, doesn't that make us part of the problem?” Sonny asked.
“Not if us interfering makes the problem worse, Sonny.” Rose replied. “If we attack the Redbrands, they might take their frustrations out on the townsfolk, and they'll be worse off than if we'd done nothing.”
“I guess that makes sense.” Sonny frowned. “But I don't like it.”
Rose and Verne looked at each other, unsure of what to say. They soon arrived at the Stonehill Inn, and all thought of justice and retribution was driven from their minds as they were greeted by warmth and the promise of a good night's rest.
The Stonehill Inn was a large, newly built roadhouse of fieldstone and rough-hewn timbers at the center of town. As the party walked through the door, they were greeted by a crackling fire in the hearth, the scent of roasted chicken in the air, and several townsfolk sitting around the room, nursing mugs of ale and cider, all eying the party curiously but not saying a word to them.
Verne approached the bar, behind which were two humans, a man and a woman, who worked dutifully, pouring drinks and cleaning tankards. “Good evening,” Verne began. “If it isn't too much trouble, we would like to reserve some rooms for the night.”
“I take it you must be Verne.” The bar man smiled. “We were told you would be coming.”
Verne raised his brows. “My apologies,” he said, “but in our line of work that can be a troublesome phrase. I pray, please explain yourself.”
“Oh, my apologies,” the man said, flustered. “I just meant that your friend, Mr. Hallwinter, let us know you'd be staying with us this evening. He already reserved your rooms.” The bar man fished five keys out from behind the bar and handed them to Verne.
“Ah, I see,” the elf replied. “And where is Mr. Hallwinter now?”
“Wherever the nearest mug of ale is, my pointy-eared friend.” A voice laughed from nearby.
The party turned to find Sildar, freshly bathed and clothed, walking up to meet them. Though the bruises and cuts still showed prominently on his face, the old veteran looked better than he had in days. “A round of whatever drinks they like, Toblen,” Sildar said, dropping a heavy coin purse on the bar. “They've earned it.”
“You flatter us,” Verne said, “but we can't accept-”
“He doesn't speak for me,” Viola said, hopping up onto a bar stool. “A tankard of the hard stuff, and keep it coming.”
Sildar laughed, and though the rest of the party sighed, they smiled in spite of themselves. It was their first night in a long while that they had the opportunity to relax- they may as well enjoy it.
Toblen (who, as it turned out, was the proprietor of the inn) handed Viola a tankard of ale. The halfling grasped it with both hands and hopped down to the floor, holding what was to her a bucket of alcohol, close to her chest. “Don't take this the wrong way,” she said, intermittently taking sips off her drink, “but I've had nobody to talk to but you four for the last two weeks. So if you'll excuse me, I'm off to mingle.”
“That may be a good idea,” Verne mused. “Perhaps some time apart would be beneficial. It would certainly allow for us to get more information on Cragmaw Castle and the lost mine.”
“I don't know,” Sonny frowned, scanning the room. “We've never been here before. Shouldn't we stick together?”
“At-ease, soldier,” Rose rolled her eyes. “I'll call you if I get a splinter from my bar stool. But until then, just relax.” The witch daintily took a glass of cider and strode off into the bar.
Sonny watched as she walked away, frowning as she sat down to a conversation with an old man by the window.
“Don't worry, friend,” Peri smiled, “if you get scared, I can hold your hand.”
“Thanks, buddy,” Sonny sighed. “I appreciate it.”
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LMoP - Interlude: Arrival (Peri)
16 Tarsakh
Prayer
“I gratefully thank You, O Morning Lord, for restoring the light to my eyes, that I may view your radiant splendor.”
Thanks
Thank you for guiding us safely through danger to see another morning.
Thank you for sending me friends that I can share my adventure with.
Thank you for giving me the power to help those friends when they get hurt.
Blessings
I pray for blessings for my allies, who keep me company on the road.
I pray that the red one can find more books. Her knowledge is important.
I pray for Sonny and his family's continued health. That he may continue to protect and support us. And that he might find some soap soon. Stinky.
I pray for guidance for the green one. That he can keep leading us safely. And that he can stop getting shot with arrows. I would miss him a lot if he died.
I pray for Viola, now my friend! I hope she doesn't get hurt again, either.
And I'll also pray for my enemies, who we felled in battle. I hope they can find peace in the land beyond.
Closing
Thank you Lathander, Inspiration’s Dawn, for all you do. For the warmth and light you wash over us. Till the next dawn comes.
Amen.
LMoP - Interlude: Arrival (Viola)
Viola's To-Do List for Phandalin
Count out my GOLD
Buy some NEW CLOTHES
Buy some tasty FOOD
Buy some SOAP for whoever's stinking up the cart
Chapter 3.1: Into Phandalin
The rutted track emerged from a wooded hillside, and the party caught their first glimpse of Phandalin. The town consisted of forty or fifty simple log buildings, some built on old fieldstone foundations. More old ruins- crumbling stone walls covered in ivy and briars- surrounded the newer houses and shops, implying that it had been a much larger town in centuries past. Most of the newer buildings were set on the sides of the cart track, which widened into a muddy main street of sorts as it climbed toward a ruined manor house on a hillside at the east side of town.
As the party approached, they saw children playing on the town green and townsfolk tending to chores or running errands at shops. Many people looked up as they approached, but all returned to their business as the party passed by.
Sildar, now recovered from the wounds sustained at the Cragmaw lair, seemed much more at ease. “My friends,” he said, “let us secure lodgings. I’m told the local inn is very quaint.”
“Oh, yes please!” Rose gasped. “I would do unspeakable things for a bed and a bath.”
“Shouldn't we drop our stuff off first?” Sonny asked. “We've still got a job to do.”
“That's very dutiful of you, Sonny.” Verne replied. “We'll first head to the Lionshield Coster to drop off the spoils from the goblin hoard, then Barthen’s Provisions to complete Gundren’s request, and after that: straight away to the inn.”
“That's good.” Peri sighed. “Sonny could use a wash.”
“Peri!” Viola hissed. “What's the matter with you?”
Sonny gave a small laugh, “Nah, it's alright,” he said. “S'that why y’all have been so weird with me all day? You know you guys can tell me if I stink.”
“Respectfully, my friend,” Verne offered. “We thought it odd you were not already aware.”
“No, I wouldn't have any way of knowing.” Sonny smiled and pointed to his nose. “She's defective- no sense of smell.”
“How did that happen?” Rose asked. “Seasonal allergies, some kind of sickness?”
“Nah, nothing like that.” Sonny replied. “When I was a kid, I was re-shoeing one of our horses and I guess she didn't like the way I approached ‘cause she kicked me clean in the face. Totally smashed my nose. The local clerics were able to fix the structural damage, but it left me with a bum sniffer.”
“You were kicked in the face by a horse…as a child…and you lived?” Viola asked, dumbfounded.
“Yeah, I guess.” Sonny laughed. “Thankfully it didn't leave me too funny looking- just the right amount.”
The others didn't say anything, but stared with newfound respect for (and possibly fear of) the young warrior as they rode toward the Lionshield Coster.
Chapter 3.2: The Lionshield Coster
The party rolled up to the trading post, signified by the blue lion emblazoned on the shield-shaped wooden sign that hung above the door. Sonny heeled the horses, then got to work unloading the bulky supplies with Sildar while the others entered the shop.
The interior of the Lionshield Coster was clean, but modest. Wooden shelves and displays lined the walls, each carrying a selection of armor and weapons. Behind the counter was a dark-haired woman in the customary royal blue uniform of Lionshields employees. “Welcome to the Lionshield Coster,” she said, “how can I help you today?”
“We're actually here to return something of yours.” Verne offered.
“Oh?” The woman raised an eyebrow. “Well that's too bad. See, we've got an ‘all sales are final’ policy here. So unless you plan to buy something, you'd best be on your way.”
“No, madam,” Verne laughed. “You misunderstand me, I-”
“Listen here, elf.” The woman growled, folding her hands on the desk. “I've got enough trouble on my hands without some two-copper punks coming in here trying to make some quick coin with a phony return. Now I'll ask you one more time to please leave.”
Thankfully, at that moment, Sonny stepped through the front door of the coster, bearing a crate on each shoulder. Immediately, the woman straightened up, seeing the blue lion crest on the face of the crate. Sonny, meeting the woman's gaze, flashed a clumsy smile and sidled up to the counter.
“Hey there miss,” the young warrior said, oblivious to the previous tension. “My friends and I recovered some of your stuff and we thought we'd return it to ya. Is there anywhere I should drop it off?”
“Oh, right there is just fine.” The woman said, gesturing to a space next to the counter. Sonny obliged, gently setting down his load as Sildar walked in with the rest of the recovered goods.
“So that's what you meant.” The woman said, her face awash with embarrassment. “I'm sorry, folks. We've had so many problems with bandits and troublemakers lately that I've been a bit on edge. I hope you can forgive me.”
“Pay it no mind.” Verne smiled kindly. “Caution is a wise practice when you're in the business of weaponry. My name is Verne, and these are my friends Peri, Rose, Sildar, Sonny and Viola. It is nice to meet you.”
“The name's Linene, and I appreciate that, but still,” she replied. “You've done me a service and I'd like to show you my gratitude.” She reached into a pouch beneath the counter and pulled out fifty gold pieces that she distributed between them.
“You mentioned something about bandits?” Rose asked, pulling her satchel close. “Are they a common nuisance around here?”
“‘Fraid so.” Linene replied grimly. “Especially lately. Phandalin has always been a bit ‘rough and tumble’- comes with the territory of being a frontier town. But lately we've had trouble with a bunch of crooks who call themselves the Redbrands.”
“The Redbrands?” Rose pulled out a journal and began scrawling out notes. “What are they like?”
“They're a bunch of thieves and bullies,” Linene growled, “who like to throw their weight around and hassle the townsfolk. They mostly hang around the Sleeping Giant Taphouse, get drunk and beat up anyone who looks at them funny. You'd best avoid them if you can.”
“We will keep that in mind, thank you,” said Verne.
“While you're here, can I interest you in any weapons or armor?” Linene asked.
“I could use some sturdier armor.” Viola piped up. “Ideally something with better coverage.” The halfling gestured to where she'd been shot earlier.
“Sure thing.” Linene replied. She turned into the back and retrieved a set of studded leathers that she held down for Viola to feel.
“Ooh, that's very nice!” Viola cooed, tapping her finger on one of the studs. “I'll take it.”
“Great! We'll need to size that down for you, but since I owe you a favor I can waive the tailoring fee. Without that, the total will be forty five gold pieces.”
Viola quickly withdrew her hand and stepped back, her face scandalized. “That can't be right,” she gasped. “I said I wanted the armor, not your whole shop!”
“Armor is an investment, ma'am.” Linene replied, a hint of irritation in her voice. “You need to consider the materials, cost of labor to make it, and how valuable it is.”
“Hmm.” Viola stroked her chin in mock contemplation. “Well, now I've considered it, and it's still way too much!”
“Viola…” Verne warned. But the halfling remained obstinate. She folded her arms and locked eyes with the saleswoman, who similarly didn't seem ready to back down. But eventually, Linene sighed and said, “Alright, miss. Tell you what. You've all done me a favor, and I'd like to recognize that. If you want, I'll let you trade in your current armor and knock ten gold pieces off the final price.”
Viola opened her mouth, seemingly to argue further, but a look from Verne made her reconsider. “Fine. Thirty gold pieces it is.”
“I think you mean thirty-five, little lady.” Linene said, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, that's right.” Viola laughed. “How silly of me.”
Linene frowned, but didn't belabor the point any further. “Like I said, we'll need to re-size the armor for you, which should take about two days. So if you'd like, you could put twenty gold down today and pay the rest when it's finished.”
“Sure, sounds great.” Viola grumbled as she fished out her newly acquired gold. “Like slowly ripping off a bandage.”
“Viola, please.” Verne sighed. “If it isn't too much trouble, I would like to partake in this deal as well. As you can see, it would do me some good.” The ranger gestured to the many holes that now dotted his leathers.
“Oh my,” the clerk replied. “Yes, let's get you into something sturdier.”
Verne and Viola each placed twenty gold on the counter, which Linene carefully placed into a pouch. Verne also picked up a bundle of arrows for an additional gold piece. Rose had no need for weapons or armor, and Peri's and Sonny's equipment already met what the store could provide, so they held onto their coin. Then, with their business completed, the party took their leave of the Lionshield Coster.
When they got outside, Sildar said, “Go ahead to Barthen's Provisions. I'll head to the Stonehill Inn and secure us lodging for the night. Meet me there when you're finished.” The party agreed, and Sonny drove the wagon down the road.
Chapter 3.3: Barthen's Provisions
Where the Lionshield Coster had been a small, modest trading post, Barthen's Provisions was an expansive emporium of supplies. The building was nearly twice the size of the coster, and the shelves were lined with all manner of adventuring equipment. Backpacks, bedrolls, ropes and rations sat on well-kept displays, clearly labeled and with pops of color to draw the eye.
Sonny drove the wagon to the rear entrance of the shop, where they were greeted by two clerks who introduced themselves as Ander and Thistle. The party went through their own introductions before explaining to the two clerks why they were there. Upon hearing Gundren’s name, the two nodded and said that they'd been expecting the party's arrival. After securing the goods (and profusely apologizing for the white pawprints across the interior of the cart) the party was led inside and introduced to the owner of the shop, mister Elmar Barthen.
“Thank you so very much,” the shopkeeper said, clapping his thin hands together. “It's so nice to have adventurers such as yourselves to help our little community here.”
“Nice enough to get some coin?” Viola asked.
Rose rolled her eyes. “Honestly, woman, do you think of nothing else?” She huffed.
“What, are we supposed to just do everything for free?” Viola growled. “Not that I'd expect you to know, princess, but here in the real world things cost money.”
The two girls glowered at each other, and Elmar nervously raised his hands from the counter. “Now, now, there's no need to argue.” He said, drawing gold from a nearby pouch. “Here are ten gold pieces for each of you, as I discussed with Gundren. Speaking of which, where is that old goat? I was under the impression that he would be coming ahead of you to investigate the excavation site.”
The party looked at each other, and Elmar’s face fell with the uncomfortable silence. “Oh dear,” he muttered. “Has something happened?”
Verne explained all that had occurred with the Cragmaw Hideout and Gundren's kidnapping. Elmar sat back on a stool behind the counter and placed his head in his hands.
“How dreadful,” he cried. “Gundren is an old friend of mine, so please, if you can, get him back safely.”
“Of course.” Sonny replied.
“It's nice to meet friends of his,” Peri said, “he doesn't seem like the type who'd have very many.”
Elmar laughed, “Yes, he does have a bit of a gruff nature to him, doesn't he? But he's a good man beneath that rocky exterior. A good leader, too. Got a lot of us excited when he talked about finding the lost mine in the nearby hills. Last I heard, his brothers, Nundro and Tharden, were camped out over there, prepping the site for excavation. It sure would be something if they found it.”
“Sildar mentioned something about that.” Rose said. “Do you really think that it's the lost mine? People have been looking for it for centuries!”
“What's so special about an old mine?” Peri tilted their head, curiously.
“Are you serious?” Rose asked. “It has one of the most powerful magical artifacts ever created!”
The witch turned to the others, but was met with blank stares.
“The Forge of Spells?” she asked in disbelief.
“None of us know what you're talking about, bookworm, so just explain already.” Viola rolled her eyes.
“Fine then,” Rose huffed. “Five hundred years ago, clans of dwarves and gnomes made an agreement known as The Phandelver's Pact to share a mine in a cavern known as Wave Echo Cave. The cave had a variety of precious minerals and sources of magical power, which attracted spellcasters from across the land who worked together with the dwarves and gnomes to create the Forge of Spells, which could create magical items. Things were running smoothly until an orcish army swept through the north, destroying everything in their path. In the resulting battles, the cavern collapsed, and the location of Wave Echo Cave (and the Forge of Spells) was lost to time.”
“You've an impressive knowledge of history, miss.” Elmar said.
“Oh, I just like to read.” Rose blushed. “Faerun's history is interesting to me. So much more straightforward than the history of the courts back home.”
“Oh? Where is ‘home’ for you?” The shopkeeper asked.
Rose's smile fell and her posture tensed. “Far, far, away from here.”
Sensing that he was approaching sensitive territory, Elmar changed the subject. “While I have you here, is there anything I can interest you in? We've all manner of supplies perfect for brave adventurers such as yourselves.”
“I could do with some more rations,” Verne said. “I fed most of mine to some wolves, and it would be nice to replenish.”
Elmar widened his eyes, but said nothing as he grabbed ten rations and handed them to the elf. The others used the opportunity to replenish their stores as well. When they had concluded their business, Elmar waved them goodbye and thanked them once again for their services. “Oh, and one more thing!” he shouted as they were walking out the door. “Avoid the Redbrands if you can- they've been making all sorts of trouble for the townsfolk.”
The party waved their acknowledgement and continued down the road to the Stonehill Inn.
“These Redbrands sure do seem like trouble.” Peri said. “I hope we don't run into them.”
“Eh, I'm not worried.” Viola replied. “They sound like a bunch of losers who only mess with people weaker than them. Nobody who can actually fight beats on old people.”
“Maybe we should do something about them.” Sonny offered. “If they're really going around hurting people for no reason, I'd feel weird ignoring it.”
“An admirable sentiment,” Verne replied. “But we need not get involved in local squabbles. Little good can come from seeking out trouble.”
“But if we know something bad is happening and we don't help out, doesn't that make us part of the problem?” Sonny asked.
“Not if us interfering makes the problem worse, Sonny.” Rose replied. “If we attack the Redbrands, they might take their frustrations out on the townsfolk, and they'll be worse off than if we'd done nothing.”
“I guess that makes sense.” Sonny frowned. “But I don't like it.”
Rose and Verne looked at each other, unsure of what to say. They soon arrived at the Stonehill Inn, and all thought of justice and retribution was driven from their minds as they were greeted by warmth and the promise of a good night's rest.
Chapter 3.4: The Stonehill Inn
The Stonehill Inn was a large, newly built roadhouse of fieldstone and rough-hewn timbers at the center of town. As the party walked through the door, they were greeted by a crackling fire in the hearth, the scent of roasted chicken in the air, and several townsfolk sitting around the room, nursing mugs of ale and cider, all eying the party curiously but not saying a word to them.
Verne approached the bar, behind which were two humans, a man and a woman, who worked dutifully, pouring drinks and cleaning tankards. “Good evening,” Verne began. “If it isn't too much trouble, we would like to reserve some rooms for the night.”
“I take it you must be Verne.” The bar man smiled. “We were told you would be coming.”
Verne raised his brows. “My apologies,” he said, “but in our line of work that can be a troublesome phrase. I pray, please explain yourself.”
“Oh, my apologies,” the man said, flustered. “I just meant that your friend, Mr. Hallwinter, let us know you'd be staying with us this evening. He already reserved your rooms.” The bar man fished five keys out from behind the bar and handed them to Verne.
“Ah, I see,” the elf replied. “And where is Mr. Hallwinter now?”
“Wherever the nearest mug of ale is, my pointy-eared friend.” A voice laughed from nearby.
The party turned to find Sildar, freshly bathed and clothed, walking up to meet them. Though the bruises and cuts still showed prominently on his face, the old veteran looked better than he had in days. “A round of whatever drinks they like, Toblen,” Sildar said, dropping a heavy coin purse on the bar. “They've earned it.”
“You flatter us,” Verne said, “but we can't accept-”
“He doesn't speak for me,” Viola said, hopping up onto a bar stool. “A tankard of the hard stuff, and keep it coming.”
Sildar laughed, and though the rest of the party sighed, they smiled in spite of themselves. It was their first night in a long while that they had the opportunity to relax- they may as well enjoy it.
Toblen (who, as it turned out, was the proprietor of the inn) handed Viola a tankard of ale. The halfling grasped it with both hands and hopped down to the floor, holding what was to her a bucket of alcohol, close to her chest. “Don't take this the wrong way,” she said, intermittently taking sips off her drink, “but I've had nobody to talk to but you four for the last two weeks. So if you'll excuse me, I'm off to mingle.”
“That may be a good idea,” Verne mused. “Perhaps some time apart would be beneficial. It would certainly allow for us to get more information on Cragmaw Castle and the lost mine.”
“I don't know,” Sonny frowned, scanning the room. “We've never been here before. Shouldn't we stick together?”
“At-ease, soldier,” Rose rolled her eyes. “I'll call you if I get a splinter from my bar stool. But until then, just relax.” The witch daintily took a glass of cider and strode off into the bar.
Sonny watched as she walked away, frowning as she sat down to a conversation with an old man by the window.
“Don't worry, friend,” Peri smiled, “if you get scared, I can hold your hand.”
“Thanks, buddy,” Sonny sighed. “I appreciate it.”