After your recent harrowing adventures you finally arrive in the town of Yartar at mid-afternoon.  From what you can see as you approach the town, Yartar is a mid-sized town of about three thousand souls with fairly rudimentary ditch and palisade defences.  The soil hereabouts is suitable for farming but crops are hardly abundant and the land is barely tamed.  Only the position of the town near the ferry crossing where the Evermoor Way crosses the River Dessarin gives the town any real significance.

The path you are on joins up with the road from Mornbryn's Shield before it enters the town from the north through a gate flanked by wooden watchtowers.  A single guard mans the station, a large bell hanging beside him could presumably summon reinforcements, but he gives you little more than a cursory glance and a wave as you enter.

The road passes between closely packed townhouses until it opens into the town square where it forms a large 'T' with the east-west Evermoor Way.  Most of the important civic buildings are here: small temples to Tyr and Waukeen sit side by side to the south; a squat, sprawling two-story building in the north-east proclaims itself The Ferryman's Pull; and a large wooden building to the north-west could easily be the town hall.  Smaller buildings identified by brightly-coloured signs surround the larger structures.

Interestingly, the grass in the south-west corner of the square seems closely packed as though from the passing of many feet.

There are a few people about but they carry on about their business and seem content to let you carry on with yours.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:04, Tue 18 Sept 2007.

Cuaglar walked slightly behind his friends, perfectly willing to let them take the lead.  He had never been in a wholly human city before, and wasn't entirely sure how they would react.  All he could be thankful for, as he looked at the wooden buildings that were as lumps of coal compared to the structures of Silverymoon, was that they hadn't confiscated his sword or his daggers or his bow.

Zyphen, after guiding the group to the town, falls back.  He pulls his his black, silver-embroidered hood low over his face and tries to blend with the group as he walks his horse through the gates.  "I care not where we rest, though I am certain our colorful mark will have an opinion."

Zyphen will leave it to Atalakis or someone else to handle the townsfolk of Yartar and find an inn.  Zyphen does not mind towns, but prefers not to be the center of attention, which his genasi heritage sometimes earns him.  He will do his best to blend so that he is not remembered in particular.

Well, certainly there is a fine, upstanding establishment somewhere around here. We have traveled a long and dangerous path and many of us are weary... A warm bath, a soft feather bed, a hearty meal served by comely tavern wenches, ah, and a minstrel by the fireplace waiting to hear of my latest deeds. These are the things that will fuel us on to greater works of good!

Atalakis will guide the group to a high quality inn.

The young man sits at the rear of the cart in quiet nervousness as the group strolls into the street of Yarter.  He's biting his nails, and quietly watching the surrounding.

"People, Shadow.  People.", he speaks to his backpack.
[Private to DM Fletch: So, I was hoping to find a place to pick up some spells'n'supplies.  Is this place big enough to find such things?  Like wizard's book store or library or somethin'?]

-K

The Ferryman's Pull is almost certainly an inn.  That would make it the only inn you've seen so far, although a town this size probably has others.  It's prime position on the village square makes it the oldest and biggest, but that doesn't necessarily mean it's the best.

[Private to Kanir: You would expect so, but you'll just have to look won't you?  The buildings with the colourful signs are likely to be shops.]

Cuaglar looked at the inn with some measure of distaste, recalling his favourite eating house, the Silver Dragon Feast Hall, back in Silverymoon.
"So.  That's an inn, is it?" He asked tentatively.  "Are we likely to encounter a brawl within?"

"Inns and brawls go together like wind and rain," Zyphen murmurs from beneath his hood, "but that does not mean we would have to participate in them."

Cuaglar seemed to brighten at this news.
"Really?  Excellent!  I don't have to have chairs broken over my back?  Or swing off of chandeliers?  Or fight with broken wine bottles?" He asked, now smiling, pretending to be naive.

"Maybe we should find a lit...t...tle bit cozier one.  Less chance of a brawl, I think.", the young man suggests.

-K

Borovik grinned. "I don't look for brawls, but I don't mind 'em either."

"Still, looking for someplace quieter might be good."

He looked for somebody who seemed friendly enough to make eye contact and said, "Well met! What's the best inn in town?"

Borovik hails a young man who happens to be walking by.  From the apron rolled over one arm and the flour on his face, he looks to be a baker or miller.

"The Ferryman's Pull is a'right.  And right behind ye.  But person'ly I'd be at the Harvest Sheaf.  It's on the Evermoor Way a ways east nearer the edge of town.  The service is better.  And I'd stay away from the Blue Dessarin.  The rivermen stop there and they're a bunch of rogues if e'er I've seen un."

The man gives crude directions by pointing; first down the road to the east and then off to the west.

"But I don't get much time for inns.  I'm off to home and bed, for it's an early start fer me again tomorrow."

Borovik nodded. "Thanks. And while I'm asking questions, where can I get the best bread in town?"

The man smiles, "Tha's easy.  Rurik's bakery.  Take the first right after you leave the square.  It's the third building down on the left.  Tho' you're better off waiting till tomorrow, now.  It'll be fresher and you'll have more to choose than just the townwives' leavings."

He points east once more, back the way he came, gives a quick nod of goodbye and leaves.

Sounds splendid. The recommendations are much appreciated my good man.

To the Harvest Sheaf!

Atalakis will lead the group their, stable his horse if he deems it an acceptable establishment, and will proceed in for a bath and a good meal.

Cuaglar stabled his horse as well, but wasn't so eager to take a bath.  He had trained in steeling himself to cold and heat, as part of his training with his swordsmaster, and had regularly washed his face and hands with snow.  No, now he wanted to put his feet up, and listen to the trivial events humans called 'news'.  Or was it, 'rumors?' Cuaglar just didn't know the right word in Common.

The young man follows the group to Harvest Sheaf.  Along the way, he notes lay of the town, from the center of the town to the east side along the Evermoor way.

He resists the urge to stick his head into every interesting looking storefront, and simply makes a note of them for visiting later.  The supply of the Elven tea he shared with Arn was dwindling and he pays special attention to places who might supply such things.

-K

"So we're going to the Harvest Sheaf then?  If you want a bar fight, the Blue Dessarin sounds like the place to go ..."   Corven sighs and quietly mutters under his breathe, "I've never even been in a bar fight ..."