In the small village of Oakhurst, once every midsummer, a goblin tribe sells a single piece of magical fruit to the highest bidder. The fruit, apparently an apple of perfect hue, heals those who suffer from any disease or other ailment.

A party of adventurers set out a month ago to delve into the Sunless Citadel; the nearby ruins the goblin tribe infested. They were never seen again. Two human members of that ill-fated party were brother and sister, Talgen Hucrele and Sharwyn Hucrele. They were part of an important local merchant family.

Kerowyn Hucrele, the matriarch of the family, offers salvage rights to you and your team if you can find and return with the two lost members of her family- or at least return the gold signet rings worn by the missing brother and sister. She also offers a reward of 125 gp per signet ring, per party member. If the Hucreles are returned in good condition, she offers to double the reward.

Each of you saw the posting in the Yawning Portal during your travels through Waterdeep. Something about that particular job posting caught your attention. You are all currently on the road to Oakhurst as part of a merchant caravan heading that direction. It's currently summertime, and the hills are lush with growth. Through small talk and idle conversation during the uneventful journey in the summer heat, each of you determine that all of you are responding to the same job offer.

Everyone introduce themselves to the group.

“Hi! I am Burntends! You can call me Burny. I am out exploring the world with my cousin. He’s a bit jelly of my good looks!” 

He points at Raulolthim… the kobold made of jelly…

”Let’s get this job done and start making bank and making friends!”

“Hey I am Leon I am just here to make some money and not exactly the friendly type but I hope we get along”.

The young half-orc hasn't spoken a word since the caravan departed Waterdeep.  He has worn his leather armor constantly, despite the fact that it seems ill-fitting and slightly too large.  The hems of clothing visible at the edges of the armor seem worn and frayed.

He walks not too close to the others but stays close enough to listen.  Hearing the others introduce themselves, he says simply, "My name is Dorgarag."

“Don’t worry too much over my appearance. ‘Twas merely a mistaken happenstance that I’m sure will be corrected forthwith.”

”In the meantime, I daresay I can still swing a sword with the rest of you rabble. My superior eyesight and draconic might shall surely be helpful in scouting ahead.”

Dorgarag, who has been eyeing the plasmoid since the caravan set out, seems surprised to hear the creature speak.  He moves closer.

"A mistake?" he asks.  "Corrected?"

"Magic did this to you?  Were you cursed?  What were you before?"

“Slow down that may be sensitive to say to him or a rough topic”

Leon says in a tired voice

"A jelly kobold? That must be so strange, having a mutable form!"

Exteri grins cheerfully at all of you, wearing the guise of a moderately attractive human man. His hair and traveling cloak are lightly coated in road dust and the only visible ornamentation to his outfit are yellow daisies embroidered around his shirt collar - garish enough to pull attention away from his face.

"I'm Exteri - just a boring human from a village no one has ever heard of. I'm so glad that y'all are on the job as well - money and friends both sound delightful."

Exteri carries a crossbow, but it does not look well used, nor does he move with the necessary coordination to be a gifted bowman.

“So, other than the gold… is anyone else really interested in this magic fruit? I would love to make a pie. Or maybe some jam or jelly?”

He grins as he never gets tired of making fun of his jelly cousin.

“That did peak my interest but the money is all I need”

Leon says while drinking water

“I do hope we get there soon. Driver! Driver! Are we there yet? Cant you go any faster? Trees and rocks. Trees and rocks. I have seen those and your horses’ bums plenty! I got big things to do. I am on a quest you know!”

If it wasn't for the strange circlet on his head and the raven sat on his shoulder Sylar would easily pass as no more than a commoner but there is clearly a little more to him than that.
The circlet, a thin metal band engraved with intricate runes comes to a triangle on his forehead, an eye engraved within and he regularly seems to converse with the raven before it flies off and returns periodically.

Up till now Sylar has mostly kept to himself but seems amused by the conversation and begins to engage with his travelling companions turning to the Kobold with a warm smile and mild chuckle.

"I'm sure we will arrive exactly when the driver intends us to arrive"

“Hmmmprhh. Well, that doesn’t make this any less boring! Anyone want to play a game? Maybe limbo? See my cousin can make himself into a cool limbo bar watch!”

“I am good I don’t really play games as it really is just a waste of time and energy”

The dwarven driver lazily looks back at Burntends and points to a village slowly coming into view among the rolling hills. “There ya go, buddy," he says. “Oakhurst.”

The caravan pulls into town and you all get a good view of the village's layout.

The merchants that have business in Oakhurst separate from the rest of the caravan. The driver drops you off and silently waves at you as he follows the caravan north.

You stand at the well in the center of town. Where would you like to go first?

Burntends will politely ask the first passerby “Where do y’all keep the magic fruits?”

Note: He has heard that country folk talk that way.

A young gnomish girl in a purple country dress with a face full of freckles turns to Burntends. She gives him a questioning look as she processes his question. "You mean the fruit the goblins sell?" Her face scrunches up in what appears to be deep thought. "Ain't seen them since last summer, but they're due to come by with a new one in the next few weeks. You should talk to Mrs. Hucrele, she's the one that usually buys it from the gobs."

"Thank you dear, sounds like just the person we're looking for. Where might we find the good lady?"

Dorgarag tries to remember whether he's read anything about the Ashen Fields.

Check History: 15

Exteri looks at the Healing Centre of Pelor and a flicker of dread crosses his face for a moment.

"Reminds me of home," he says, voice light. "Although some of the folk are smaller," he adds, with a wink at the gnomish girl.

His eyes land on the blacksmith's forge.

"Why don't we split up to get information and then meet at the inn?" he asks the party. "'I can head to the forge to ask about our missing persons - if anyone saw the adventurers before they set out, it will be the local blacksmith."