If Inas felt any nervousness upon arriving at Rush Hollow, the ranger did not let on. His gait was relaxed, yet purposeful. It was a grim task when bearing a litter for the fallen.



"I do not hail from this village, but its people are familiar to me," he responds. "It was here where my journey began," he says, indicating the bounty which the village's chieftain promised for Althea's return.



To this, Inas explains that no Temple of Kord will be found in this village; however there is a proper Temple of Melora, where a Kordian shrine may be found.

Inas then suggests the party pay Chieftain Ondor a visit after arranging to Duvall's proper burial.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:57, Wed 21 Aug 2013.

Inas leads the party to the Temple of Melora, which consists of an well-tended brush arbor near the village center. A small fountain in a bed of silver and violet bell-shaped flowers serves as the centerpiece of the shrine. Orderly lines of split rail benches are arranged in a horseshoe formation around the fountain.

Nearby, a young acolyte prunes back a hedgerow which is beginning to encroach upon the open-air shrine. The young woman notices the party's approach, and seems especially concerned by the appearance of a litter. She hastily places her shears back into a wicker basket and advances toward the party.

"What has happened to this man?" she asks, her countenance relaying a genuine concern for the fate of Duvall. The fair-skinned, raven-haired acolyte wears the traditional garb of Melora's acolytes: home-spun dyed green wool robes, tastefully trimmed with silver embroidery.

In reply to DM Storm (msg # 8):

At the mention of a temple to Melora, Eagle cheers up immensely - his diety has been blessing him with increasing powers through his adventures, and he is pleased at the chance to be able to give her his full attention in a proper environment.

When the Acolyte approaches, he makes the sign of Melora and nods his head respectfully. 'Friend, we hail from Stormhaven, and have been on a mission to protect both the city and your village from reptilian raids. Our companion, a priest of Kord, fell during our quest, and we have also recovered the bodies of two sacrificial victims. We want to give them a proper burial.'

Clean, open, well lit; everything Ben detested, all wrapped into one place. Gak!

Still, Ben held his tongue and feigned respect.  For all that Duvall had been a value in their adventures, he had also been a sharp tongues judgmental bastard at times, and while Ben wasn't happy the man had died, he wasn't exactly mourning either.

He knew it was a time to behave though, so he did, keeping in the back, occasionally putting a hand into his satchel to stoke his rubies.

Rath stands to one side, allowing Eagle to take this one.  Rath, like the others, is filthy from swamp travel, and although he realizes that's not a rare thing in Reed Hollow, he doesn't want to add work to the acolyte by messing up the tended shrine with muddy bootprints. He breathes deeply, trying to partake in the sense of peace the place must convey to visitors, but he only feels out of place, and not entirely due to his muck-filled boots.

The acolyte, who eventually introduces herself as Jan-briel, listens to Eagle's tale while examining the deceased. Jan-briel becomes teary when she sees the two slain women: it turns out both are from this very village.

Jan-briel composes herself and confides, "We had feared the worse, but seeing it now with my own eyes..." she pauses a moment while attempting to hold back tears, "none of them deserved this..." she finally says while gently caressing one of the victim's cold hands.

The two female victims are named Ulee and Kera, both around the same age as Jan-briel. The acolyte says she will see to it that their families are notified and funeral arrangements made. Turning her attention to Duvall, "I am sorry you lost one of your own. He must have been quite brave..."

Jan-briel also offers to attend to Duvall's burial, in the traditions of Kord, with which she is passably familiar.

Norion stands in the middle of the nice garden, not his kind of place, but he does like that its orderly.  When the young lady starts tearing up though, he lowers his gaze to the ground, he takes half a step forward, then sets back.

A war goes on in his head, but he finally says, and in a voice of his home, "Mi'lady, ah know it is ov little comfert ta tha' families, but take this an' use it fer them as you mah ta assuage their grief...", he hands over a purse of coins and leaves and waits outside for the others.

[Private to DM Storm: He gives her all his gold. how will he ever get out of debt this way, silly dwarf :-)]

Jan-briel graciously accepts Norion's generous offer, though she seems quite shocked at the gesture, if only for the sheer amount of coin the dwarf readily hands. Though she makes no attempt to count it, the bulging cloth sack serves as enough of an indication as to what a boon the dwarf bestows upon the temple.

"Melora's blessings upon you, kind master," she says while tilting her head deferentially to the dwarf. "May your trek through the wild prove bountiful, indeed." The acolyte's voice is soft and soothing, a reminder of kindness within the world.

Slightly startled first by the Acolyte's obvious grief, and then the gruff dwarf's generosity, Eagle is slightly tongue-tied for a moment, sensing that none of his companions are entirely comfortable in this place of calm. After a moment, he nods to Jan-briel and bids her farewell. 'Thank you for your aid in this matter, we must now seek out the village chieftan, and some rest and recovery. For myself I will return here tomorrow to make my communion with Melora'

Unless anyone else wants to speak to the Acolyte Eagle will look to Inas to lead them to the Chieftan/Inn.

The Illusionist was not as discomforted as some of the others; though mysterious Sehanine was his much beloved patron goddess he was a pious man and respected Melora and Her servants.

That this servant was quite so fair did not huret matters either.

"Thank you for all you have done Sister." Saliq says, smiling and giving a polite dip of his head before the priestess. "It is a blessing to know there is one so kind to see these poor departed to the afterlife."

Throughout the hours traveling to Rush Hollow, bearing the dead, Rath had been also carrying a dull ache of vicarious grief and personal guilt, which showed in his eyes but which did not stop him from vigorously performing the onerous task. He had spoken little during that trip. Now, here in the village and facing the real grief of the acolyte, Rath was emotionally worn, dulled and numb.

He steps out of the shrine, joining Ironaxe, looking miserable. Rath peers up at the sky, seeking any sign of Pelor's light. If he finds it, it does not comfort him. He says to Norion, grunting, "I really want to buy you a drink. And me one too while I'm at it."

The dwarf looks a bit down, but nods to Rath, "I could use a drink, thank you, ah uh..."

He shakes his head, "Tonight, we let old ghosts be gone...fer good"

The companions finish up at the Temple of Melora, where they pay their final respects to Duvall, and continue on their way. Adventuring was a harsh business. Everyone understood the risks, though they mostly tried to not think about them too much: it was just easier that way.

That bit of unpleasant business attended to, the party proceeds through the village to locate Chieftain Ondor. A bounty awaited...and perhaps they might learn more of the flesh-eating demons. After proceeding to the chieftain's sprawling manor, which begins at ground level and proceeds into the crown of an ancient black gum tree, the group learns that Chieftain Ondor is presently at the Toothless Troubadour, along with many of the village's other major players. Apparently, a company of Lord Myron's men arrived a few hours ago, and the Chieftain is holding court with the captain there now.

Lord Myron, one of the heirs of the influential Talas line of nobility, and also subject of Ben's unending suspicion. The party received an icy welcome when they paid the Lord's Keep a visit while en route to the ancient ziggurat, and certainly his standard, a serpent on a field of jet, fueled those suspicions. What might his men be doing here now? One way to find out...

Outside the tavern, several pack mules are lined up near a line of trees, and attended to by two spirited grooms. The animals packs do not appear laden with goods, so perhaps the company has come to acquire provisions?

Inside the tavern, about 30 or so men and women are gathered about on long tables running down the center of a grand hall. Private booths are flung to either wing, some of these are occupied while others are available, should the group wish for some measure of privacy.

Lord Myron's men are readily apparent: 15 men in dyed-black leather jerkins clustered in around a central table. At one side, a dark-haired man with a hawkish nose sits, his polished chain shirt sparkling in the light. The men are enjoying some ale and pickled catfish and seem otherwise unconcerned with the heroes' appearance.

Chieftain Ondor is located not too far from the man-in-chain, Captain Rocco as it turns out, sharing a quiet conversation with a staff-wielding man in dark robes.

A bar-wench carrying four mugs of ale approaches the group at some point, "Have a seat anywhere you like. I'll be with you in two shakes of a tail..." she sasses with a wink. She quickly sashays across the floor, ale in hand, her form tantalizing the senses.

Saliq smiled dazedly at the bar wench, apparently hypnotised by her charms. It was only after she departed that he turned back to others and said very quietly: "I think I have an idea how we can eavesdrop on Myron's men if it comes to it."

Inas nodded at the bar wench and directed the group to a private table in the corner, his favourite spot in this tavern. It offered a good view of the whole room, while receiving little passing traffic from other patrons so gave some measure of privacy.

He took a seat, back against the wall as was his custom. He eyed the soldiers suspiciously. They didn't normally venture out into the little villages, save to bring trouble. Their presence could only be an ill omen. When the wench returned he spoke quietly to her. "When he is free, please tell Chief Ondor that Inas the Woodsman is here. I would speak with him when he is able." He then ordered an ale and a platter of cold cuts, bread and cheese.

When she departed he looked at his companions. Speaking in a low voice, he said, "Are these men known to you? I know little of Haven politics."
This message was last edited by the player at 08:06, Sun 25 Aug 2013.

Leaving the temple to his mistress Eagle is filled with a sense of peace and tranquility. He senses his companions grief, but for his part he knew this was just part of the great circle of Melora's spirit: just like the tree leaves fall, decompose, turn into soil and feed the tree's future leaves, Duvall's passing was just a way-marker on his own journey, and that of Eagle and the others.

However, when they enter the inn, Eagle is returned with a jolt into the sense of intrigue and danger that is part of parcel of being in large groups of armed men in rooms with alcohol. Again his tiredness hits him. Taking a seat he orders just a glass of nettle juice, and zones out as he stares at the inn's fire, oblivious and indifferent to any plotting going on among his friends.

Stepping ever forward, perhaps foot in mouth, Ben opens said mouth wide and speaks to the entire room.

"We come here seeking Chieftain Ondor; we bring news of good tiding, though perhaps not as good as the news he already received when his wife returned to him, no doubt telling him of our valiant and heroic efforts against the lizard men, which saved her from sacrifice most foul."

With a smile interrupted by a deep inhalation, as the run on sentence had been a bit of an effort to him, the little man swings his gaze back and forth amongst the crowd.

OOC see msg 570
This message was last edited by the player at 02:50, Mon 26 Aug 2013.

Rath gives the bar-wench an eye up and down, but it is half-hearted and hardly a proper leer. Thinking he knows what Saliq Musfara has in mind regarding eavesdropping, and knowing the bent of his illusions, Rath leans close and says quietly, but not too quietly, "Careful, wizard. You might send Scristos over the edge."

He joins the others at the table Inas selects, and he drops his weight onto the bench with some relief. He glances over at Lord Myron's men. Rath never shared Ben's suspicions that the Lord was somehow involved in the dark doings in the swamp, and he doesn't pay them much mind now, either. He smirks a little smile, imagining Inas dropping Greenscales' head into the middle of Ondor's table.

When the time comes, Rath orders food, without caring much what it is, and drinks. Something strong for himself, something large for Ironaxe. He glances at Eagle, with some empathy for his weariness, and he does not press the druid to break his silent withdraw.

Then suddenly he looks up at Ben, who has drawn attention from the room. Rath opens his mouth as if to speak, then closes it, smirks, and leans back, arms crossed, to enjoy the show.

The bar-wench glides through the tavern with ease, the frill of her flowing skirt dancing playfully with each step. She exchanges playful banter with any whom would attempt to charm her, yes, even Ben. The girl's name is Rasharron, and she has an inviting manner that may inspire one to imagine what it might be like to share a private moment with her.

Whatever the case, in short order, she returns to the companions' table and sees to each man's desire for drink and sustenance, yet other desires remain withstanding.

Shortly after food and drink arrives, Ben makes his proclamation to the tavern, which now elicits a few interested looks. If the party had received only passing attention prior, all eyes fall upon the companions now. Including those of Chieftain Ondor, who had been chatting with the robed man near the men-at-arms.

Chieftain Ondor excuses himself from his present company an crosses the tavern to meet with the companions. The Chieftain is a squat, barrel-chested man with a moppish dark hair framing a doughy, baby face. He looks nothing like what one might expect of a village chieftain, rather, a shopkeep or perhaps a miller.

Whatever the case may be, he is the leader of this village and though his appearance is anything but commanding, he is husband to many wives, so he must be prosperous indeed!

Ondor calls out, his eyes twinkling with delight, "So, our heroes have arrived!" he says while clapping his hands for emphasis. "A round of drinks for these men, please!" he calls back to a nearby bar-wench.

The portly man slides up next to the heroes' table and exchanges a greeting, "Welcome to Rush Hollow! Dearest Althea has spoken well of you indeed!"

Norion nibbles at his food, drinks heartily for most, but not much for a dwarf, he is quiet tonight, running a hand through his beard, tapping a finger or two on the table, watchful yes, but mostly apart.

Quite pleased by the response, Ben offer his right arm for a manly forearm-shake, his small chest puffed up as much as it could muster.

As the chieftain passes the little man to address his henchmen, Ben takes a moment to give the soldiers of lord snake-eyes a bit of the evil eye before turning and offering his seat to the Chieftain.

A little before the group declared themselves Saliq drew Ben aside and whispered his plan:

"See fair Rasharron? I was thinking it might be a good idea if you use your charms to persuade her to have 'a private moment' outside the inn. I'll slip out a few moments before under the pretext of emptying but breeches and use my magic to take her shape - then I'll come back in and serve drinks to Myron's men. I'll be able to eavesdrop on their conversations without them being the wiser."

Chieftain Ondor accepts Ben's offer and takes a seat at one end of the table; unfortunately for him, with his back to the room, a position which causes him to cast several nervous glances back at the room from time to time.

"Well met indeed!" he offers once introductions are out of the way. "I am most delighted you decided to pay a visit to our humble village, following your expedition into the ziggurat."

Casting another quick glance back over the room, "Did you vanquish the last of the barbaric lizard-men?" he asks, somewhat incisively.

He is aware of only what Althea told him, and her knowledge of the place ends when she was rescued outside the ziggurat.

With no response to his plan Saliq tried to hide his disappointment and focused on the chieftain. Of course being a prince by blood (albeit an exiled one) he felt at no disadvantage talking to the local lordling. Smiling, he addressed the man:

"In truth Chieftain Ondor the lizardmen shall trouble you no more; their evil king has been slain and the hold he had over his followers shattered."

He was reluctant to go further in the non-existent privacy of the tavern.

Rath remains where he sits, leaned back and arms crossed, except when he's lifting a glass to his mouth. The chieftain's nervous glances start making Rath nervous, but the only outward sign of it is a casual smirk to mask his concerns. He keeps an eye on the tavern and it's patrons, pretending to watch the bar-wench make her rounds.