"Ah, you are a Seeker?" the elf nods her understanding to the monk, "It is long since I was in the north lands."

She waits for everybody to settle, then continues, "As I said outside, I am Shandril, priestess of Freya here in Fairhill.  The two men who stood with me outside are Arlen, the local Magistrate, whose house this is, and Baran, leader of the Watch."

"You have, I'm afraid, arrived here in the midst of a crisis.  An artefact has been removed from Freya's Hall, a holy gift from the Goddess Herself, which is responsible for the wealth of the village.  It was there when I led evening devotions yesterday, and was gone this morning."

"Arlen and Baran have offered help in recovering the Crucible, but if your group could see their way to offering assistance... well, extra hands make the task easier, as the saying goes.

Lannet glares at Ozzy, at least taking his eyes off Erista, "Steady now.  I'm just trying to be friendly to a stranger, aren't I?  You should know what these places can be like.  Big folk don't pay much heed to our sort, and it can be hard finding your way round when none of them ever look down to see that your lost."

Erista blinks, and then smiles.  "There, now," she says, putting a hand on Oswald's arm lightly.  "No need to fret - he's just offering help.  Poor thing," she looks back to Lannet sympathetically.  "Least we just have to travel with the stompers - you actually live with them?  We should be asking if there's anything we can do for you," she insists.  "Our Oz makes a lovely stew - it'll take you right back to your father's arms!" she offers.

Ozzy harumphs and folds his arms across his small chest. Still not impressed with his rationale, Ozzy sees him more as a snake-in-the-grass charmer, more than likely wanting to take more than he could offer. Still, Ozzy was sure that Erista had dealt with such kind before in her life, so he politely holds his tounge as she quietly calms his ruffled feathers.

He smiles proudly as she brags about his recipe for stew, although he cannot recall ever having shared it with her. It was actually something he had learned from an aging paladin, but a compliment from a pretty lady was not something ever dismissed, so he nods in complete agreement with her - while still keeping a watchful eye on Lannet.

Lannet turns back to Erista, and the grin is back, "Quite right.  Us halflings should stick together.  The big folk can't be trusted to help us, too busy walking about with their heads in the clouds, so we should help each other."

He takes another step closer, his hands held out to show that they are empty, "So how can Lannet help you?  Do you need to find a tavern?  The Drunken Cockatrice is supposed to be the best, but I like the Cask and Flagon better.  Or are you after something else?  Where are you from anyway?"

"A holy gift from the goddess herself?  Stolen?"  Eilieen blinks in horror.  "Who would dare?  Evidently someone has," she corrects herself, shaking her head in disbelief, and filing away the information regarding the Nameless Monk.  Interesting.

"Of course I would offer my assistance," she continues.  "We are on a journey, but I am certain we can spare a few days...and if not, I will catch up afterward."  The priestess bows her head.  "Are there any particulars we should know?  What is this artifact?"

This, she decides, is a job for Erista and Oswald.  Ferreting out this kind of thief seems right up their alley.

Now, where have those two gotten to?

There are those who say a halfling with empty hands is twice as dangerous as one whose hands are filled, since the one with empty hands is more likely to pick something up.  Of course, Erista doesn't subscribe to such prejudices.  As a halfling herself, she knows there's nothing prejudicial about it.

"I came all the way from Lokshyr, by Mayfurrow," she replies.  "But it's been a mostly nice walking, and the tall folk with us aren't too bad - nobody complains if we ride the wagon, you know?  'Course," she frowns a little, "Did just up and leave us outside a crowd what would've trampled us if we'd tried following, but, you know how it is."  She shrugs.  "Not s'much after anything, I don't think, so much as drawn by curiosity.  What's all the fuss about?"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:42, Tue 06 Mar 2012.

Ozzy interrupts before Lannet can answer, " I heard that something has been stolen - it's important to the whole village, and there seems to be a feeling that they are all doomed if it isn't found." he then turns and looks hard at the other halfling, the look of suspicion on his face undisguised as he awaits an answer to both Erista's question and his own inferral.

"I am certain that nobody from Fairhill would commit this crime.", Shandril states, her voice firm in her conviction.  She continues, addressing Corian and the Nameless Monk too, "The Crucible grants fertility to the fields, and to the people of the village too.  The thief clearly entered the temple under cover of the rain and darkness.  You, as strangers in the village, would almost certainly be under suspicion, if not for the presence of a priestess of Zadastha in your group."

"If you will assist in recovering the Crucible, you would earn the gratitude of everybody in Fairhill."

Corian speaks up then, "Of course we shall assist you.  In return we would ask only directions to a place which we believe to lay near here, and which is of importance to our own quest.  Can you tell us the location of the home of Eralion?  It would doubtless be a ruined structure, perhaps a mansion of some description, deserted for the past fifty years or more."

Shandril's face becomes stern, "Yes, I know of Eralion's keep.  I well remember the man himself.  He was a sorcerer who, though a good man in his younger days, became increasingly cruel and bitter as he grew older.  When he died, of age and ill health, few of the villagers mourned his passing.  Do you intend to disturb his grave, or continue his long forgotten work?"

"Aye, I heard that too.  The Crucible's been taken from the temple." Lannet replies to Ozzy, with not even the slightest hint of guilt on his face, "I reckon it was strangers that took it - nobody in the village would dare touch it.  We all know that it's important for the whole village, see?  Have you seen any strangers about?".

"It's a sort of silver pot, about so big... " he moves his hands in front of him, indicating something about eight inches across and six or so deep.  "Shandril says it makes the fields hereabouts grow, even in a bad year, and she uses it to bless the bride at a wedding too."

"What brings you to Fairhill anyway?"  He steps forward again, and lays a hand on Erista's arm, "Sorry Sweetheart, I never caught your name."

Aramil, meanwhile, keeps a close eye on the trio of halflings...

"I do not know this place as well as you, nor the people, and so I defer to you regarding the Crucible's disappearance," Eilieen returns with another small bow.  "I meant no disrespect to the citizens here.  If not them, though...where would we find this thief?"  Her brow wrinkles.  The world is a large place, and any thief would no doubt be heading off in one of eight points of the compass.

"How large is this Crucible?  How easily carried?" she carefully inquires, not wishing to give offense.  As for Shandril's question, she'll leave that to Corian.  Eilieen, herself, is only along to do whatever good she can along the way and keep the others alive.

" Oswald. Oswald Osbourne, but you can call me Ozzy." Ozzy answers Lannets question, knowing full well it wasn't for him but enjoying it anyway.

Watching the halflings has been very entertaining, the sort Aramil has missed since leaving Reme on this adventure that seems to have too much sadness attached. Suddenly the smile drains from his face as he realises that the two robbers have moved away out of sight of the party. Looking around he tries to spot the duo and get the attention of the other members of the party. Moving towards Ozzy he bends over and quietly says "Not sure about Erista's new friend. Got a funny feeling about him. But we have lost those two idiots that attempted to rob us and I think Colwyn and I better go hunting before they get into trouble."

Moving off leaving Erista in Ozzy's capable hands the Half-elf moves back toward the only other member around and gets his attention. "We seem to be missing the two robbers from the road. I'd suggest that we go looking for them, as they are likely to get into trouble. Also Jack still has Eileen's clock and though she might not mind loosing it, I do. Especially to one of those two."

"Oh, goodness, no." Corian exclaims, sounding quite shocked, "I have no idea where Eralion's grave is.  As for his work...  Also no, I'm afraid that has a bad reputation, even as far away as Reme.  I'm here purely in search of certain treasures he was rumoured to possess."

Shandril considers the sorcerer's words, then, "Very well.  There is, a short distance to the north of Fairhill, a stretch of forest now known to the locals as Grimwood.  That is where Eralion made his home, and it has been a place of ill omen since his death."

Eilieen's question is answered after only the briefest thought, "The Crucible is silver, some six inches deep, and eight in diameter, inscribed inside and out with prayers and blessings.  While it would not be too heavy to carry, I can only hope that the theft took place towards morning, meaning that the thief could not have travelled too far."

Nodding, Colwyn agrees with Aramil's assessment, murmuring, "Yer reckon we should stick tergether, or split up ter look fer the buggers quicker?"  We needs ter find 'em 'fore they gets theyselves in any bother, but stickin' tergether might keep us out o' bother as well."

Meanwhile, in the shelter of the battered farm cart, Lannet's grin gets, if anything, even broader.  "Osbourne is it?  Well now... you wouldn't be related to the Freegate Osbourne's would you?  My cousin, Deara, she lived in Derindin with her Mam and Dad, but she married one of the Freegate Osbournes last year.  It's a small world, and right enough."

Catching Colwyn's comment Aramil thinks a moment and then replies "Normally I'd suggest splitting up, but with the missing treasure from the temple the folk around here are edgy. Best we stick together and hope to find the pair of idiots before they get themselves into trouble. I've mentioned to Ozzy about the pair and I'm sure he'll be looking out for them while keeping the halfling invasion at bay." The half-elf smiles at the last part of the comment and gestures towards Lannet, who seems intent on keeping Erista busy.

Looking around he then continues "Lets concentrate on the edge of town first, not sure those boys will want to be to near the townsfolk at present."

"Tergether it is." Colwyn says, grimly, "Don't reckon it'll take us long ter sniff 'em out.  They's not 'xactly overloaded with brains."

He sets off, with Aramil, to search for Jack and Decklan.  They head back towards where they had entered the village, working on the assumption that the two would-be bandits would want to avoid going further into the village...

Lannet smiles at Ozzy and Erista, both of whom seem to have fallen silent.  "Well, now, isn't this all nice and friendly?"

The nearby crowd has already started to disperse, and not a few of them give the three halflings somewhat suspicious looks as they pass by.  Suddenly Lannet looks concerned, "Don't look now, but Baran's just spotted us.  He's coming this way."

With a clear view of the road which leads back to the Tradeway, Aramil and Colwyn can see no sign of the two fugitives.  The human looks about, "If'n we walk 'roun' the edge o' the village, we might catch sight of 'em.  Left or right?"

There isn't a lot to choose between the two possible directions...

Looking both directions Aramil shrugs at the choice between them. "With not much to go on, I'd suggest ... left maybe. It doesn't seem to be a great difference. Lets just hope its the right way." Aramil answers Colwyn's question. Then with the direction stated the half-elf moves off without waiting for his human companion, though he does turn slightly to check that he is following.

Erista laughs.  "Small, but cozy," she agrees.  "Oh!  Before I get all lost in happier talk, I suppose I'd best remember I am supposed to be looking for a bow for one of our friends.  Who in town has the best bows?" she asks.  "...And by `best', we're meaning `cheapest,'" she clarifies.

"A place of Ill Omen," Eilieen muses.  "Would it not be a fine direction for a thief to escape?  The last place those of the village would search?"

She ponders the situation, pacing back and forth.  "I knew nothing of this crucible before coming here.  Perhaps it is not well-known?  If not, then the thief must at least be from nearby, Shandril.  Or a traveller who simply happened to espy it and decided to steal it...but I suspect you would have gone after any recent travellers immediately, yes?"

That would be the logical thing to do.

"Whomever stole the crucible might know of this Grimwood, and that people avoid it.  Might it be possible the crucible and thief could be found within it?"

It seems...logical to her, but Eilieen would be the first to admit she's not the best investigator.

Before Lannet can answer, he's interrupted.  Baran, apparently, has taken an interest in their discussion.  Big, even for a human, with red hair and moustache, Baran's most noticeable feature, apart from his unsmiling face, is the fact that his right hand is missing.  He towers over the three halflings, clad in studded leather and a green cloak, with the hilt of a large sword projecting above his left shoulder.

He glowers down at the trio, "What's goin' on 'ere then?  I 'ope you an' yer friends aren't up ter somethin', Lannet."  He looks at Ozzy and Erista, "Come ter think on it, I don't think I've see the two of yer round 'ere afore... "

Shandril ponders Eilieen's suggestion, then replies, "We are located close to the Tradeway, as you are doubtless aware, but we have had very few travellers visit the village recently.  It is possible, I suppose, that somebody who was aware of the Crucible came here secretly with the sole intention of stealing it."

"There was a small caravan which left for Bard's Gate, but that was yesterday, before the Crucible was stolen.  I believe Baran plans to send the Watch out, cross country, to intercept them."

The possibility that somebody might be hiding in Grimwood does seem to get her attention though, "Eralion's home still stands in ruins in Grimwood, as far as I know, it might make a suitable hiding place for a thief."

Colwyn and Aramil start circling the village.  Within a few yards, Colwyn is cursing as he steps in a pot-hole filled with water and hidden beneath a layer of moss, and suddenly finds his left leg is soaked, almost to the knee.

"Oh... Tykee's sweet smile!" he says, with considerable sarcasm, "Tha's jus' bloody great!  When we's findin' them two damned fool lollygaggers, they's goin' ter wish we'd jus' killed 'em, there, on the road."

"Do me a favour.  Nex' time we runs inter some bugger on this journey, make sure as I puts some arrows in 'em, jus' ter be sure."
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:12, Fri 16 Mar 2012.

Erista looks up.  And up.  And up a little more.  Once she's finally looking Baran square in the chest, she decides that's going to have to do.  "Ooh," is all that comes out at first.

Then she holds her hand up, and offers, "And it's a pleasure to meet you, sir.  I'd be Erista, come all the way from Lokshyr, which you've like never heard of, but if you ever find yourself there, you tell them I said hello.  There's like to be a pie in it for you," she notes, "And my mum makes the very best pies, if I may say.  Brambleberry, with criss-cross top," she clarifies, with an overtone of genuine pride

Baran looks back down at Erista, but doesn't take the offered hand.  "Travellers is it?"  His frown deepens as he considers the two new halflings in town, then he nods, "Well, if yer just bear in mind that I'm Baran, an' I've got a name in Fairhill fer bein' a miserable bugger, an' I'm also in charge of the Watch, then I'm sure we'll be the best of friends.  Or at least not enemies."

"In the mean time, watch out fer Lannet.  'e's got a name in Fairhill fer bein' in trouble."

Lannet yells out an objection, "Hey!  That's not right.  I was just trying to help them find their way round.  Nothing else.  Ask them... " he points at Erista and Ozzy, "I told them I could give them directions to places."

Ozzy looks at Lannet with a smug smile of 'I knew it all along' taking a precautionary step back from the little man with the bad reputation. He didn't want to be guilty by association after all. Hearing Colwyn cursing up a storm, he does the simple math, tugging on Eristas sleeve for a quick whisper, " Decklan and Jack are M.I.A., if we find them we might find the crucible." he suggests. " Lets go help Colwyn and Aramil find them."

"That is what he said," Erista confirms, although, admittedly, with an audible tinge of doubt as to just how this proves his innocence.  "Thank you, Baran, the Miserable Bugger In Charge of The Watch," she replies, the tone of it surprisingly respectful.

Oswald's whisper gets a quick wave of her arm.  "I know," she says back, in a less-quiet whisper that respects the fact that people are whispering, but doesn't really appear to share their concerns about other people overhearing.  "They waited about five seconds since they thought nobody was looking and then went scarce, but I say let 'em be.  They learned their lesson.  Maybe not quite the one Eilieen was trying to teach, but the one they were going to learn, and may it do them good."  She pauses a moment, frowning.  "They were from around here, weren't they?  Lannet, do you know that Decklan fellow, or his friend Jack?"

Lannet waits for Baran to move away before speaking, "That one doesn't like me.  He doesn't trust our sort at all.  He thinks we're all no-good bleeding scoundrels."

He favours Baran's retreating back with an obscene gesture before returning his attention back to Erista and Ozzy.  "I don't think I... well... there's two or three Jacks in Fairhill.  But I don't think I know a Decklan."  He scratches at his cheek, "No, wait... there was a Decklan who lived here for a couple of months last year.  Some sort of tinker or something.  Or was that Duncan?"

Outside the village, Aramil and a thoroughly miserable Colwyn continue their search for Decklan and Jack.  They make their way along the perimeter, peering between buildings and around clumps of bushes.

And it seems that their search pays off.  There is a flash of white on a fence post, which turns out to be a scrap of fabric caught on a projecting nail.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:08, Mon 19 Mar 2012.