OOC: suggested soundtrack for this scene is Taverns of Azeroth, by David Arkenstone.

Sir Bedivere Grayson, Baron of Tyntern, has hired you to urgently deliver a missive
to the northernmost outpost of his fief: a solitary stone tower on the top of a rocky peak always burdened by fierce icy winds, called the Tower of Hellwinter, after the ancient name of that small and secluded mountain region. The tower, however, enjoys an excellent view of the borders between Grayson’s Barony and the lands of his treacherous cousin: the Duke Mornay.
Every season’s change, one of the Baron’s loyal knights volunteers to reach Hellwinter and guard the borderlands by himself.
It’s a harsh and lonely task which, unsurprisingly, has gained for the solitary outpost a gloomy fame…
Now, almost three months have passed since Sir Gallaharn Kairn, one of the bravest
Baron’s knights, took on his duty, and he still hasn’t sent any news to Sir Bedivere, as he was supposed to do on a weekly basis. Thus, the Baron has decided
to send a group of Heroes to check whether something bad has happened.


After a two-days journey from Tyntern - baron Grayson’s home - you finally enter at dusk the small village of Gallows End, your last leg before facing the Forest of Bron and, eventually, ascending the mountains in order to reach Hellwinter.
OOC: please reduce your food reserves accordingly
You know that on the last part of your travel you will have to walk along a steep path that leaves the forest to an insidious mule-track.
Gallows End counts a bunch of stone houses scattered on a low hill near the forest’s borders.


This message was last edited by the GM at 04:20, Sun 03 Dec 2017.

Being tired and hungry, Garl starts searching for an inn.  He wants to fill his belly, then rest his ears.  Already he misses those long hours spent in the Duke’s library.

Roland glances around at the village in distaste. Brows furrowing, he adjusts his shield and pack slung over his shoulder, and without a word trudges straight into the village. Like his elven travel companion, he is looking out for a place to spend the night, though with a marked lack of enthusiasm on his face.

The first person he meets in the village, he hails in a measured but clear voice that rings out in the night air. "Hey Boy! A place to rest for travelers?"

You are pointed to the only building in the village that may look like a Inn: above the door there is a wooden board with a prancing gryphon painted on it... many Summers ago.

The rundown appearance of the building does nothing to improve Sir Roland's mood. And as the companions draw nearer, a smell of unwashed bodies and food gone bad wafts through the air to assail their nostrils.

Wrinkling his nose in disgust, he turns his face to one side and spits in disgust. He snarls. "It's a hovel. But I suppose it will have to do for tonight..."

His armor rattling and clanking, the knight approaches the front of the inn, making for what appears to be a door of some kind. Placing his hand on the worn and splintered wooden surface, he pushes on it and enters without waiting for his companions.

Larson followed up at the rear of the group, his huge bearskin clad frame making him look like he actually fitted in here.

Yes this was a hovel but it was still someone's home and the big man noticed the open distain on some of his companions faces and sighed civilised living had made these southerners forget they were all just men and equals in the eyes of the gods.

He adjusted the large warhammer that was strung across his back and followed the rest towards the tavern and welcome warmth and food

Garl follows Sir Roland into the Prancing Gryphon.  He tries hard to conjure the smell of musty old scrolls and fresh ink, and to dispell the stench of mediocre food and peasant sweat.

It doesn’t quite work, but he still looks forward to spending the night indoors.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:19, Sun 03 Dec 2017.

The first thing that welcomes you is a big fireplace warming up a big, common room made in stone, with small windows covered by heavy fabric. The floor is made of compact earth and covered with hay.
There are a handful of customers sitting around crude wooden tables, eating stu and drinking some foaming liquid. They all wear warm clothes, mostly furs.

A young, scarred man approaches you with a broad, broad smile: "Welcome gentlemen to the Gryphon's Nest, the best place to eat of Gallows End!
Tonight we offer a deal: a meal, a Thunderbrew and a bed in the tavern’s common for the night for you will be for just one little Crown. Extra Thunderbrews that you may want, will come just at 5 Schillings.
If you are interested in doing deals with the Emporium, I'm running that as well!"
[Private to Garl Ligoosh: After all the stu doesn't smell too bad... probably they cooked meat before it was rotten, but it smells very raw, with not enough herbs and carrots]
[Private to Sir Roland Halfstaff: After all, the stu doesn't look too bad, but you notice they put quite a few carrots... an old trick to avoid putting good meat instead... but propably so far from the castle is better than you expected]
[Private to Larson fossas: The stu actually looks like an honest dish for simple but straigtforward people]
This message was last edited by the player at 21:20, Sun 03 Dec 2017.

Upon entering the tavern, a pleasant wave of warm air greets Sir Roland and washes over him. He feels it beginning to drive away the chill of the cool night air outside. Perhaps this isn't the hovel it looks like from the outside.

The knight remains standing there near the entrance for some seconds, ignoring the fact that he is keeping the Innkeep waiting. As is his custom, his cold blue eyes calmly survey the inside of the Gryphon's Nest, taking the measure of each individual. Satisfied, he turns and makes his way to an empty table near a corner where he sets down his shield and pack, and proceeds to sit down on the bench. He turns to see if his companions follow him to the table, then to Wyatt who had waited on him patiently, then followed behind as he made his way to the table.

"You the Innkeep?" Seeing the young man nod, Sir Roland continues. "We would like rooms for the night, dinner, and a mug of your Thunderbrew each." Sir Roland eyes Wyatt coldly. "I don't want that cheap soup they are having. I want to see good juicy meat in my stew. Lots of it." The knight reaches into his money pouch and claps three Crowns on the table. "And make it quick. We are hungry."

OOC - deducted 3 crowns from the char sheet.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:23, Tue 05 Dec 2017.

Wyatt swiftly makes the gold disappear from the table: "My dear Sir, you shall be served swiftly, but please note that we don't have rooms here. We have a single common room.
I will personally make sure that in the fireplace there will be enough wood until dawn and that your beds are nice and comfortable.
Please enjoy your Thunderbrews... our speciality!"
In few seconds you all have a foaming flagon in front of you.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:28, Mon 04 Dec 2017.

Garl sits at a rickety table and runs his little finger over the foam of his Thunderbrew, dreaming of poisonous clouds and midnight castings.  He is grateful he hasn’t seen any musicians so far...

Larson looked over at his companion

"Sir Roland the stew here looks to be s fine made if simple afar and the meat used seems to be of good quality. I would say the innkeeper here be an honest man and it would be far to treat him as such" stated the dwarf before turning to the innkeeper.

"I would have your stew, drink and warm sleeping corner for the night" he said with a smile "my friend here is paying" he grinned
This message was last edited by the player at 15:55, Mon 04 Dec 2017.

Eventually, Garl gets bored with touching his Thunderbrew and tries drinking it.  Although it’s not entirely to his taste, he swallows gratefully.

The Thunderbrew reveals to be a spicy, strong ale. While the first sip doesn't taste fantastic, the more you drink, the more you feel a pleasurable warmth spreading in your bodies. The first flagon empties just on time for your stews to come in wooden dishes and with a wooden spoon.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:06, Tue 05 Dec 2017.

Sir Roland glances at Larson but decides that arguing with the dwarf over culinary matters is beneath him. To the knight's mind, it is indeed just a culinary matter - the thought did not occur to him that the Innkeep might be a dishonest man. He says no more on the matter but picks up his flagon and takes a deep long draught of the Thunderbrew. A pink cast comes over his features as he lowers his flagon to peer into it. It is obvious he likes it. Lifting it again, he drains it in a single draught. He looks around the table at the empty flagons of his two companions and calls out to the Innkeep for another round, before tucking in to his bowl of stew with a keen appetite.

As Wyatt comes by with the second round of drinks, Sir Roland looks up at him, his disposition slightly more agreeable and pleasant than before. "Your brew is something Innkeep. What news from the road?"

The innkeeper, with obvious pride, serves you one more round of Thunderbrew. "I'm afraid I don't have great news about the road, dear Sir: a band of cutthroats, led by a dark robed bandit, elected the forest its home."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 02:22, Tue 05 Dec 2017.

The knight raises his brows. "And they have been preying on travelers and locals? How many are they? Anyone knows their hideout?"

"Sorry Sir, that's all I know, as I seldom go out of Gallows End and I can only report about the rumors I hear at the Gyphon's Nest. Perhaps some other customer can tell you more."
The Innkeeper bows and serves one more Thunderbrew to another customer.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:52, Tue 05 Dec 2017.

Garl grins at the mention of the bandits.  At last, he will get an opportunity to try his spells out on live targets!

As the Innkeep moves to another table, there is a moment of silence around the table. Sir Roland looks at his companions thoughtfully. He notes Garl's enthusiastic grin.

"Let's find out more..." Finishing up his bowl of stew, the knight wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, picks up his flagon, and walks over to the next table where there are seated several other patrons. As the men turn to look at him, he remains standing beside the table while he calls out his greeting.

"Good evening to you Gentlemen. Cold night it is. Mind if I join you?"

With a disarming smile, Sir Roland glances around at the faces around the table, and seeing no objection, takes his seat between a rough looking man who looks like a hunter, and an older man with a soot-blackened face and big rough hands gnarled from a lifetime of work at the forge.

"So Gentlemen...what news from the road?"

OOC - So DM...let me know if I need to make any roll check. Sir Roland has the Silvertongued talent.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:21, Tue 05 Dec 2017.

The men looked like huddling between themselves, aparently with no sign of hospitality, before Sir Roland addressed them, but, perhaps due to his broad smile or to the many empty Thunderbrew flagons on the table, they nod cheerfully, welcoming you, and happily share their news.
The old smith informs you that the Forest of Bron is a perilous place, inhabited by ferocious beasts and monsters, but in ancient times it was home to a benign druidical order.
The old hunter instead tells you that this has been the cruellest winter in
decades. The Hellwinter peak is violently shaken by fierce thunders almost every night.

[OOC: the power of Silvertongued Talent... ;) ]
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:43, Tue 05 Dec 2017.

Passing by and asking if you want more Thunderbrews, the Innkeeper informs you: "The last knight to reach for Hellwinter was a sad man named Gallaharn,
well-known and respected by the villagers. Some years ago, Gallaharn’s wife died to an incurable fever. No one in the village has heard of him since he reached the tower at the beginning of winter."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:46, Tue 05 Dec 2017.

His ears prick up at the mention of Sir Gallaharn, and Sir Roland leans forward at the table. He looks at the faces around the table, that of the rough hunter and the old blacksmith, as well as the other men nursing their Thunderbrew.

"Did he come in here...Sir Gallaharn? Did you know him?"

"Of course... all knights on the way to Hellwinter stop at the Gryphon's Nest for a night... and then, occasionally, come back here to buy some food or tools... We are very honoured by their presence in Gallows End."

"So you spoke to him.. Did he say or do anything that you found...out of place?"

"Innkeep, you said Sir Gallaharn arrived at the Tower on winter's onset. And he has not been seen in the months since?"

Sir Roland continues his questions in a matter-of-factly tone. His manner is not impolite, but his interest in the matter is obvious. He tries to find out as much as he can from the villagers and the Innkeep Wyatt about what Sir Gallaharn might have been up to.

Garl finally tries the stew.  It is not as spicy as he would like, but it will suffice.

As he eats, he follows the tale of the sad Sir Gallaharn with great interest, wondering if he still lives.

"He came here only once at the beginning of the year on the way to Hellwinter and everything seemed perfectly right with him... and he never came back until now, which is strange, as the knights of Hellwinter usually come back here from time to time, to buy more food and other tools, for example...
Any more Thunderbrews?"

Sir Roland looks at the Innkeep, shakes his head at the offer for more drink. He stands up from the table, drawing himself up to his full height to address everyone in the Inn. His deep voice is clarion, ringing with confidence and rightful authority as he makes his announcement.

"Villagers and residents of Gallows End. My friends. The Baron of Tyntern, Lord Graystone, has long heard about the dangerous conditions under which you live out your lives. He sent Sir Gallaharn to man the Tower of Hellwinter, as well as to see how he can make this area safer for you and your children..." The knight pauses for a moment. He looks around at the faces before continuing. "...Unfortunately, there had been no news from Sir Gallaharn these past three months. I am here with my companions to find out what happened. And to finish what Sir Gallaharn started..."

"Any news or information you might have on the dangers you face here in Gallows End and it environs, would be helpful to us. As are information on Sir Gallaharn when he first arrived here and engaged with you."

He turns to the hunter, the blacksmith, and the other villagers at the table. "How far is Hellwinter from Gallows End? In this weather?"

In his mind, Sir Roland is already thinking about the journey to the Tower - supplies needed, and perhaps oil-skin protection for the rations, tinderboxes and torches, lanterns, rope maybe... He turns back to his own companions. "We shall rest here tonight. Make for the Tower tomorrow morning. I will procure some needed supplies."

On top of what you heard before, you are also informed that Dark Elves have recently been spotted in the Forest of Bron and that an army of Undead is gathering on the heights north of Hellwinter. They’re searching for something hidden amidst the highest mountains. Maybe they plan to descend on spring to ravage the lands of men.
Perhaps some extra Thunderbrews fuelled some fantasies, perhaps not.

Crossing the Forest of Bron takes three or four days, as daylight is short and the weather doesn't help. Then there is the final climb to Hellwinter, that can take another day.

In Gallows End Emporium you can buy some equipment, although in such a small village you can't ask for too much.

As you said you came to help, three or four people huddle around you, begging insistently.

Garl’s ears perk up at the mention of his forsaken brethren, the dark elves.  Until now, the thought hasn’t occurred to him that while on this adventure, he might find himself ducking spells as well as casting them!  On the other hand, he wonders what magical horrors they might have unearthed.  Rather than frightening him, the thought fills him with wonder and fascination.  He wishes he could suck a dark elf’s brain out, and thereby learn everything he knows.

Dark Elves...Undead... Sir Roland raises his brow. He looks up at Wyatt. "Any map of the area Innkeep?" He turns back to the men who gave the reports of the sightings. "These here are some big-ass reports. Might you men deign to point out on the map for us where you made these sightings?"


The knight performs some quick mental calculations. "A week's supply of rations for each person should be enough. And we will supplement our diet with game from the forest." He glances at Larson, then removes his money pouch and hands it to the dwarf. "Larson. Would you take care of that? Procure the rations, supplies and tools we need?"


"Come. Sit down and talk. One by one. You first." Sir Roland bids the people sit down at the table, then take turns to tell him what they need, one by one.

After ordering ordering another Thunderbrew, Garl stands.

“Sir Roland, I propose a toast!  Here’s to big-ass reports!  May they lead us to the swollen breasts of adventure.”
This message was last edited by the player at 20:33, Wed 06 Dec 2017.

Wyatt brings ONE Thunderbrew for Garl, then replies to Sir Roland, trying to conceal a smile: "Sorry Sir, but maps ae for people that can read... and in Gallows End most people can't read.
Anyway, the road is simple: you north east and you sind the Forest of Bron. Take any path, as they all go from south west to north east, and follow it towards north east. The path may split, but eventually all paths take to the north east side of the Forest of Bron... once you are out of the trees, you can see Hellwinter Peak, as it dominates the landscape. They built the Tower on it because from it you can see all around.
Climbing can be a bit hard, but it is not difficult to find a path.
Straightforward, Sir..."

The other Thunderbrew fuelled villagers that talked to you bout the other threats agree that the undeads are still far away, on the other side of Hellwinter Peak, but they contradict each other when it is time to pinpoint the positions of bandits and Dark Elves. If they really exist, they must move a bit all over the place as they have been spotted in very different locations of the Forest of Bron, which actually makes some sense.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:27, Thu 07 Dec 2017.

The beggars come forward:
One is a former lumberjack that cut his own foot in an incident and is now lame, so he can't roll trunks anymore.
One is a hunter that lost his fingers to frostbite and can't wield his bow anymore.
One is an old widow with no childs nor relatives left.
One is a big man with the brain of a small child.
They all reverted to begging in Gallows End and they live of what the fellow villagers can spare for them. From what you understand, the Innkeeper graciously let them sleep warmly in the common room after closure for charity.
What do they want? Money, or at least food.

Sir Roland frowns in irritation at the pronouncement of the Elf and promptly ignores him. There is a time and a place for celebration. Certainly not when those who need help have just spoken about the greatest threats endangering their lives...

He turns and catching Wyatt's eye nods in thanks for his directions, then returns to the matter at hand. The knight looks at the four beggars thoughtfully. The smell of unwashed bodies and stale food emanating from them assails his face head-on, but elicits nothing more than a slight wrinkling of his nose. These are the poor and destitute who desperately need our protection and help... And we shall give it gladly!

He raises his voice. "Innkeep. I hear you have been allowing these four to sleep here in the common room after hours? I thank you on behalf of Baron Graystone. For taking care of the poor and destitute." He gets up from the table, turns to Wyatt, and gives him a slight bow. He glances around the common room looking at each face in turn and addresses everyone in the tavern.

"These four are your fellow villagers. Your neighbors if you will. The Heavens forbid that while you are granted gracious provisions for your daily lives, you ignore those around you who are poor and desperately in need of help. Your charity, given with a willing and cheerful heart, would be a rightful response to the grace you receive and rely on every day. And would surely bring an abundance of blessings and joy upon you and your household."

The knight allows a brief moment for his words to sink in, then turns to look at the Innkeep. "The big man with a child's mind looks hale and strong. He should be able to help you out with various menial tasks - chopping of firewood, carrying of heavy stuff, fixing of your leaking roof... You mentioned you run the Emporium too? He can help out there as well. He just needs clear instructions. In simple words..."

"As for the lady, she could help with cleaning tasks. Washing plates and mugs, wiping tables, cleaning the windows.. She is probably able to serve customers their orders too. And that leaves you free to just sit at the bar and collect payment..."

"If you would allow them to do these for you, in exchange for two square meals a day, in addition to letting them sleep here in your common room as they already do, you would have the gratefulness of the Baron Graystone..."

The knight's gaze and his voice softens slightly as he makes his plea. "...And mine as well. Would you consider that?"

He turns and looks next at the Blacksmith with his soot-darkened face. "Sir, the man with the broken leg, with a simple crutch he can still get around quite easily. He can help out at your forge, as a blacksmith's assistant if you will - keeping the furnace well supplied with wood, working the bellows, fetching water... And all that for two square meals a day..." He turns back to eye Wyatt. "...And a place to sleep here in the Gryphon's Nest where it's warm..." He turns back to the Blacksmith. "Would you consider that too Sir?"

Sir Roland looks finally at the hunter who had lost his fingers to frostbite. "You may have lost your fingers, but your eyes are just as keen, and you have a loud clear voice and can run like the deer? The Baron has need of a lookout for this village and its surroundings. Especially with dark creatures up and about these days. Your job would be to keep a close and careful lookout for any who approach this village. And when you see dangers approaching, you shall sound the alarm to warn everyone."

"Would you do that for two square meals a day, and a place by the hearth here at night?"

There is a few minutes of silence as Sir Roland, imposing in his bearing and confident in the authority he possesses, looks around the common room at each of the villagers, awaiting their response. He turns to Larson, stretching out his hand. "Six crowns my good man...to buy these four a bath, and a clean change of clothes..."

The knight listens carefully to each man as he speaks and points, even though many of their accounts differ wildly and even contradict each other. He nods gravely at the end, thanking all of them for their help.

"It seems there's a great number of these creatures are about...and we are only three men."

"Do not be anxious friends. We will go into the forests on the morrow. And see what we can do about these craven beings..."

Everybody nods to your requests and you can just hope they will actually follow your suggestions.
It is now time to sleep, but before there is still a bill of 20 Silver Shillings to pay for four Thunderbrews, on top of 6 Gold Crowns for your charity (please decide who has to pay and deduct the coins from your character sheets).
The Innkeeper puts several big logs besides the fireplace, so you will be warm all night despite the freezing cold outside.
If you want, tomorrow morning you can pass by the Emporium before leading to the Forest, as it is now closed for the night.

Sir Roland undertakes to pay for the cost out of his own pocket - total of 8 Crowns. Acting like the boss requires some backing up...which is a big reason why knights and lords and other gentry spend so much to maintain their lifestyles... This seems good and right to the knight.

He ends the matter with the following line. "I'll be calling here again. Soon. Do not disappoint me my friends..." With a final nod and look at everyone the knight calls for the tab and calls it a night.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:56, Thu 07 Dec 2017.

The Innkeeper does his best to make you comfortable and, while the big man with the brain of a child a couple of times cries during the night due to nightmares, you pass the night reasonably well, for being at the last, although tiny bastion of civilization.

[OOC now it's my turn to go to bed as well... good night, gentlemen! ;) ]

In the morning the Innkeeper offers you a portion of hot, sticky porridge for 2 Shillings, harboiled eggs for 1 Shilling each.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:09, Thu 07 Dec 2017.

Garl helps himself to three eggs, knowing that they are one of the best sources of nourishment for the brain.  He passes on the porridge.  As he eats, he keeps a wary eye on his surroundings.  Solitude is an old lover whom he misses desperately.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:45, Thu 07 Dec 2017.

If you want to pop by Gallows End small and and poorly-furnished Emporium (that the Innkeeper will open just for you), you will find this equipment available:

[OOC Don't forget to deduce from your character sheets the money you spend for your breakfast or for your shopping.]

Garl inquires about the violet potion.

"Well... I don't know exactly its effects, but I know for sure that it is MAGIC! Some time ago a very powerful wizard left it to me as a tip, when he went on his way..."

Garl asks permission to attempt to identify the potion (using his magic lore skill).

In reply to Garl Ligoosh (msg # 45):

Of course Wyatt agrees.

OOC: Please roll 2d6 vs. your MAGIC + Magic Lore Special Skill. You pass by rolling under.

21:52, Today: Garl Ligoosh rolled 3 using 2d6.  Magic lore check. 

OOC: it is a Potion of Stamina. It will restore STAMINA to its initial level when drunk. There is enough potion for a single dose.

Garl will purchase 30 iron rations, 30m rope, a bronze mirror and a linchpin.  (I believe this will cost 17 gold and 2 silver.)
This message was last edited by the player at 03:02, Fri 08 Dec 2017.

While Wyatt looked a bit disappointed yesterday night, as his deal making food cheap and ale expensive didn't pay out as he hoped, after this big sale he looks definitely happier, while he pockets your money.

Sir Roland nods in approval at the purchase of Garl and contributes his share of 8 gold. He shows his appreciation at the initiative shown by the Elf by giving one of his very rare smiles. "That sets us up just fine Elf. Good man."

The knight claps the Innkeep on his back, giving the man a good-natured wink. "We will be back soon Innkeep. And hopefully then, we will have more to spend on your expensive meals and cheap ale..."

OOC: looks like you are now ready to leave Gallows End: link to a message in this game
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:15, Sat 09 Dec 2017.

Sir Roland looks at the pile of equipment with a calculative eye. "I will carry half the rations."

"Garl could you pick up the rope, the linchpin, and the mirror?"

"And Larson, the rest of the rations is yours."

Sir Roland glances at each of his companions to see if there are any objections.

“Wait... you want to carry half of MY rations?  I think you make too many assumptions...”
This message was last edited by the player at 07:35, Fri 08 Dec 2017.