Miss Alcott begins rocking more furiously, the floorboards creaking louder. "W...well, maybe, I don't know. Oh dear heavens. It's become quite warm. Quite warm indeed. Now where was I?"

She wipes her forehead with a handkerchief. "Well, maybe I'm remembering wrong. Maybe he just took my lockbox? Yes. Yes. Let me go check if that bolt is still where is should be..." She gets up and makes a show of searching one of the groaning shelves.

"Yes. It's here. What do you know, I was mistaken!"

Changing the subject, "Now, weren't you going to bring some Calimshan silks for me to look at?" she asks hopefully. "I will be retiring for the evening soon. Oh my, where has the time gone!?"

"But Madam, your lock-box is gone!" Morgrim replied, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye before suddenly turning sombre. "How could you possibly bid on my silks when that thief and scoundrel made off with your money? But then of course you would know that, because you have a mind like a steel-trap."

"Do you know what I think, Ms. Alcott?" Mogrim asked after he'd let a few seconds of silence pass for that thought to sink in.

"I think there was no break in yesterday morning, first, because nothing in your shop has been broken, and second, because that lad out there wasn't even in Bryn Shander at the time which I'm sure the Gate guards will corroborate. He's been here less than a day."

"Your shop has been undisturbed. Your lock-box is wherever you leave it every night. And no one, least of all a Reghed outlander, made off with your cloth."

Morgrim paused to clear his throat, but was quick to raise his hand to still any protest before continuing.

"Do you know what else I think, Ms. Alcott? I think you're a good woman with a good heart, and that you were put up to this. And how could a poor merchant such as yourself say no? A terrible winter come early this year. Some thugs up from Luskan hitting up honest people such as yourself for 'protection' money. Yetis at the very gates of Bryn Shander no less! I'll bet its everything you can do just to survive from one cold night to the next! And of course, who would miss one 'glacier savage' if it would appease Auril. He probably had it coming anyway!"

"But not like this, Brinna. Not like this."

Morgim cleared his throat again.

"Sheriff Markham knows there are holes in the story, holes big enough you could push a yeti through. He knows because I just came from the barracks. But he seems like a compassionate man, Brinna. I bet if you came clean, he'd be very understanding. And then we could all go to sleep in our own beds tonight and forget this ever happened."

In reply to Morgrim Ironhammer (msg # 132):

What little color she has remaining in her face is flushed pale as Morgrim casts his accusation at Miss Alcott. The old lady's hands begin to tremble and she says, "Oh dear me, I must sit down..."

The old woman begins to tear up when she is seated, her lower lip trembling while she shifts her jaw uncomfortably.

"It's true," she finally admits lowly. She then claims she only hatched this scheme because she had hoped the sacrifice of a barbarian would appease Auril's wrath and spare the town of a lot of suffering and death come the depths of winter. "She's a harsh mistress. I was just trying to...help..."

Miss Alcott reluctantly agrees to recant her story to Sheriff Markhamm, but needs help making the short walk to the armory. All strength and vigor seem to have left the old woman now, the weight of her actions hanging heavily over her.

The party proceeds to the armory and relates their findings to Sheriff Markhamm, who becomes visibily angry at this whole affair. "If I didn't have enough to worry about already..." he chides irritably.

The sheriff then sends for the barbarian's possessions and orders him freed from bondage!

OOC: Well done!

"I'm sure you were, Brinna," Morgrim says kindly as he offers the old woman his arm. "I'm sure you were."

Allowing Brinna to lean against him on route to the armoury, he gently patted her hand and reminded her that she was doing the right thing.

* * * * *

When all was said and done Morgrim exchanged a respectful nod with the Sheriff and then followed the guardsmen out to the market to make sure the barbarian was cut down where he watched from the edge of the square with an air of quiet satisfaction.

"Well? Who's hungry? I could eat an ox, and I'm sure my poor, dear sister is worried half sick about me by now. Hah!"

OOC: I'm glad that worked. My next play if she stayed stubborn was a bit shakey ;)

Previously, the moment Hengar is freed. The barbarian expresses his gratitude toward Morgrim, Kira, Ellie and Arnan, for having faith in him where no other had. "I know I have already asked much of you honorable people. But, I come to you again, asking for your help..."

Hengar then all bet begs the adventurers to return with him to his tribe's camp, out on the tundra. He had hoped to secure magical help to fight against the Ice Witch, a skill not found among his people, but his trip to Bryn Shander has yielded no fruit. He longs to return to his tribe at once and aid them against the Ice Witch's campaign to destroy his people. He says he has no coin to pay for their services, but, "you would forever be heralded among the long tradition and song of the Tribe of the Elk."

Hengar would like to leave immediately, even though daylight is but a sliver of cerulean on the horizon, but is willing to wait until morning if the party has other business to attend to.

In reply to Morgrim Ironhammer (msg # 134):

"That was well done," Arnan said to Morgrim as they stood in the market square and watched the town guards cut down the barbarian who had been tied to a post. He stood ready to step over and help the man, in case his legs were weak after his ordeal -- he figured that the barbarian would be too proud to ask for aid.

"I could see you leading the old lady down the garden path, but until there at the end I wasn't sure whether she would come right out and admit that her accusations were false. That was a good thing -- I'm not sure whether Markhamm would have done anything if she had stuck to her story. It was easier from his point of view to just leave things as they were, and let Nature finish what She had started."

When Hengar asked for their aid against the Ice Witch, Arnan turned to his companions who were present. "I'll admit that I am inclined to help. Better to stop this Ice Witch now than to risk having her defeat the barbarians, then turn against the other rangers and scouts in this area whom I count as friends, or even the towns hereabouts."

"Plus, being welcome among the Tribe of the Elk would be no small thing for a man such as me."

"I just opened my ears and told a foolish old woman what she wanted to hear," Morgrim said with a wink. "She was quite capable of talking herself in knots all on her own."

"As for you, Mister Aensvaard, as much as I was happy to help I'll not be going anywhere without my sister. I can make no promises in either regard, but I dare say we most assuredly wouldn't leave before the dawn. Let us talk it over."

"How far is it to your tribe's camp?"

Ellie was glad to see that Morgrim got the woman to admit her fault; she had been mulling over possibilities of getting the others to help with breaking him out secretly, but that was a risky path and the path she walked was slippery enough already. When the barbarian was released, it was all Ellie could do to bite her tongue; wanting to suggest that the lady Alcott be put in his place.

But, she had been raised to show more mercy and forgiveness than that. She whispered and unheard prayer for a moment over the stockade, then continued on with the others.

Listening to Hengar's pleads, Ellie chewed her lip beneath he scarf. "Lady Silverstream wanted our help in getting to Kelvin's Cairn, and she was willing to pay, but this does sound ever so much more urgent. I'd be inclined to help the Tribe, but is there any chance at all we could do both?" she asked, her tone line and hopeful.

Hengar quickly throws furs over his naked form to combat the biting cold spasms wracking his considerable frame.

"Thank you for giving it your consideration," he humbly says. Hengar says his tribe's winter camp is 20 miles north of Kelvin's Cairn, and that it should take 2 to 3 days to reach his camp, depending on weather and other hazards along the way.

"I will be staying at the Hooked Knucklehead and you can reach me there, should you decide before morning. If not, I will be at the markey square at dawn. I would be honored to see you and your company there, but if not, may all your nights be warm and your days healthful."

With this, he offers a handshake in parting. The manner of handshake is quite different among his people, but each manages well enough to cause no great amount of social discomfort.

Arnan noted that Hengar did not directly answer whether it would be feasible for the group of adventurers to travel first to Kelvin's Cairn in the company of Mistress Silverstream, and then to proceed onward to the Tribe of the Elk's winter camp.

"Mayhaps Mistress Silverstream would have some thoughts on your question, Ellie," Arnan said after he had shaken hands with Helgar.

"That's one of several good reasons that I can think of for us to head over to Kelvin's Comfort," he said with a smile.

"Here, take this," Morgim says, stooping down to lift up a handful of snow and packing it between his fingers. When he opens his hands again between his fingers is a heap of blood red berries.

He hands them to Hengar.

"They only last a day, but you shouldn't worry for hunger."

Saw this snow ball turned goodberry in another game and it was too good to pass up.

Casting Goodberry.

Ellie stretched out a bit, letting out a sigh as she did. She reached up to straighten her face coverings afterwards, "I could certainly use a hot meal and a soft bed myself. It sounds like no matter what, we'll likely be leaving early in the morning."

"We'll see," Morgrim said noncommittally. "But I can't argue with the first part. Come, lets go join the others."

---> Kelvin's Comfort

Thane had been content with finishing off his platter and his first mug of hot cider while listening to the dwarven ladies speak back and forth, so Dalgura's request caught him off guard.  He swallowed the last of his cider a bit hard and looked a tad uncomfortable.

"Uh, what should I speak about?" he wondered out loud.  He drummed the fingers of his right hand on the table for maybe a five count before making up his mind.

"Okay, I can do that," he said, sticking to the common tongue for the moment.  "Since you dwarves like to hear about people's lineages, I think I'll tell you something about mine.  So, here we go..."  He swallowed hard again and reached reflexively for his now-empty mug and his hand fell short as he realized it was indeed empty.  He stowed the offending hand in his lap for safekeeping.

"I am Thane of the tall and showy Harkensen family line," he began.  His pronunciation seemed fine, for a human, anyway.  "My family line is filled with proud busy men!  We humans don't look backwards so far as dwarves into family lines, so I will speaking of my Grand Pa and my Pa only," he continued, a little nervously.  Perhaps he hadn't spoken Dwarven very recently.

"My Grand Pa was quite big known Sheep Whittler," he began to describe his Grandfather's profession.  "He had most large Sheep Whittling house in all Luskan, and sold many kinds of wool, skins, and clothings made from Sheep Whittling.  His name and treasure was so great he sented my Pa to big school to learn how to draw words and make books.  Grand Pa is now dead, but I have a blanket of Sheep Whittlings with me even to this day, nice blanket and heavy, very good against cold night chillings."

Thane paused and dared to quickly look in the eyes of his dwarven companions to judge whether they were following him or not.  It seemed that they were, judging by the smiles on their faces, which he interpreted as him telling them a good tale of lineage.  Encouraged, he got a little more bold and sped up the pace of his delivery.

"My Pa, back when, he was made of many big brains!  That's why Grand Pa sented him to study.  And study he did, long and chewy he studied.  My Pa works with book, you see.  He works with them so hard that they falls out of their bindings!  Which is okay because Pa also knows how to make words and colory drawings and so he writes the fallen apart books like new and binds them up himself.  Pa gets much treasure from this book working and is able to make and keep a big family.  I am middle-most of nine rocklings, but unlike most of them, Pa said I have few brains and so I do not work with words or books."

Thane pursed his lips and looked both pouty and peevish at this for a second or two, then his neutral mask settled again and he wound up his tale of lineage.

"So this brings talkings to me.  I may have few brains and not be able to work with words and books like Pa or my chipstones, but I am strong and tough like horse or ox.  So I make my treasures by trading my arms for weapons, my skin for armors, and beating up foes of Luskan for my boat boss.  But boat boss sent me here with train of wagons to beat up foes that want to steals wagon treasures, and I get to stays here until train of wagons go back when sun melts snows.  This is okay with me.  Luskan was not always happy place for me to make my treasures anyway."

Thane had an almost happy expression on his face.  He made it through his tale of lineage!  And, he thought to himself, he even managed to throw some embellishments in there to make the tale more interesting for Dalgura and Ladysmith Helda, too.

He leaned forward on the bench and eyed them with anxious curiosity.  "Well, what do you think?  Do I really speak with stones in my mouth?" he asked, reverting to the Common tongue.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:34, Wed 18 Jan 2017.

Morgrim, Ellie, Kira and Arnan enter the now bustling common room of Kelvin's Comfort. Dalgura, Thane and Helda are seated at a table near the hearth, getting along swimminglt. Most of Hugglesward's crew is here as well, the men and women of his company growing more spirited by the second. The dwarven proprietor does his best to keep his customer satisfied, albeit with a touch of vinegar in his tone as he good heartedly chides overly zealous patrons.

In the short span of perhaps 6 hours, the party has warded off a yeti attack, secured the release of the condemned barbarian, and received two separate offers of employment. Well, at least they won't be idle this winter!

At some point during the evening, a few locals approach the adventurers and congratulate them on their role in defeating the yetis at the gate. This naturally leads to the adventurers hearing about similar attacks plagueing Icewind Dale for weeks, since soon after the early winter storm that swept across the region. But this is the first time a monstrous attack has been so close to any of the Ten Towns. Normally yetis do not venture south of Kelvin's Cairn and the wolves and bears of the region stay well clear of Ten Towns and human travelers. Not so lately.

A few late arriving patrons also mention the fact the babarian is no longer chained to the post in the Market Square and this causes a bit of a stir as the locals form wild theories about what it might mean.

Numerous side conversations about all sorts of local gossip permeate the tavern, though these hushed conversations are nearly drowned out by the roar of Hugglesward's company, who are more interested in tying one on than putting their ear to the street to get a sense of the town.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:10, Wed 18 Jan 2017.

Ellie marches right up to Thane and Dalgura, taking a seat at their table without prompt. She looks to the dwarven woman; "Your brother managed to talk the wits and confession out of the stupidest and worst shopkeeper lady in all of Ten Towns. It was really quite inspired, I was going to take a far less subtle approach myself" she said, a bit of admiration in her voice.

"Miss Dovehand is being kind," Morgrim said as he came up behind his sister and placed his hands upon her shoulders. "I don't hardly deserve the credit."

"Keeping out of trouble with your new drinking buddies I hope, Dal?" he said with a wink.

Arnan came into the tavern with Ellie and Morgrim, but saw no need to add any comments to what the two had already related.

He nodded a greeting to those of Hugglesward's people who were sober enough to recognize him, and amused himself by listening to the tales that had grown around the fact that the barbarian was no longer tied to the pole  in Market Square.

Dalgura could barely contain her laughter at the words that were coming out of the human.  She knew that they were Dwarven words but it took her a bit to recognize them.  Thane didn't really have any pebbles in his mouth but she wasn't sure he had the Dwarven vocabulary in his brain either.

She coughed and took a drink while trying to figure out how to answer Thane's question.  "Oh my!  Well you didn't sound like you had TOO many pebbles in your mouth.  That is an interesting lineage you recited.  You might want to double check some of the words though before you repeat it to too many people.  Do you really have a blanket of Sheep Whittlings?  May I see it?  I think that you had rocks on your mind.  Did you mean to say that you were the middle-most of nine rocklings, but unlike most of them, your Pa said said you had few brains and so you do not work with words or books.  It also sounded painful when you mentioned you traded your arms for weapons, your skin for armors and beat up foes of Luskan for your boat boss.  Did you really use your skin for armor?  What kind of healing was used after that do you know?  Did it leave any scars?

Dalgura would have kept up with her line of reasoning (in her mind anyway) but Morgrim showed up and Ellie had sat down.  "Oh my brother can indeed talk!  Sometimes I think he just talks until people give up and submit to his reasoning.  Oh!  Hi Grim!  Barkeep!  A cold mug of foam for my brother please.  The one that you've been chilling!"

Dalgura made room for the others to sit down.  "Me?  Trouble?  Really Morgrim.  You'll give these people a totally inaccurate representation of me."  She grinned while she said it and winked at the group.

Morgrim laughed and then signaled one of the servers for an ale and something hearty before taking the seat next to Dalgura.

"I'm glad you're playing nice," he said.

"But if I can interrupt your moment of levity there's something that bears discussion."

Morgrim proceeded to inform his sister, and any others who happened to be present and listening of Hengar's request. He listened in turn while Helda Silverstream's offer was relayed in turn.

"Well? What do you think, Dal?" he said once everything was explained to everyone's mutual content. "Hengar wants to set out tonight, and Helda wants to set out in five. With the tribe's camp two to three days away with fair weather it doesn't seem likely we can do both."

In reply to Morgrim Ironhammer (msg # 150):

Dal thought for a moment and then closed her eyes as if she was listening to an inner voice.  Finally she opened her eyes, took a bite of her food and then pushed a sandwich over to Morgrim, and smiled.

"Eat brother.  It sounds like you have had quite the adventure also.  Mistress Helda here (nods to Helda) has an opportunity to check out perhaps a new ore.  That would indeed be a good thing to help and be on the discovery of something like that.  Helping out the Tribe of the Elk, however, would help out a whole tribe as well as the town.  If we went on that adventure it would, in one way, also be helping out Helda since it is a known fact that people buy more if they aren't under attack and have to use their coins for repairs etc.  Oh by the way, I need to make a trip to a new shrine and I'd like to talk to the Priestess there.  After you get food and ale in your belly will you join me?  AND did you make arrangement for a place for us to sleep tonight?"

Morgrim happily sunk his teeth into the sandwich while he listened to his sister speak. "O'course I'll come with you, Gura," Morgrim replied between mouthfuls. "And no. I've not been anywhere near an inn."

He continued chewing thoughtfully for a few moments.

"Do you think this is what mother intended for us then? To help the Reghed tribe? I'd thought it would turn out to be something more properly... you know... dwarven."

In reply to Morgrim Ironhammer (msg # 152):

"Since when have we both been THAT proper?  If you want something more proper than go with Helda and look into her black ice.  That would probably involve mines and other typical dwarven things.  On the other hand, a Dwarven DRUID might want to investigate things about Elk and stuff.  MY Goddess will be happy with either because wherever we go there will be healing needed."

"I'm just sayin', Dal!" Morgrim replied, putting up his hands defensively but grinning from ear to ear. "You're the one she chose to confide in! If I had my druthers she'd have sent us some place warmer altogether!"

Ellie tried to follow the back-and-forth of the dwarves for a bit, then gave up understanding the siblings. She instead turned deliberately to her food. Quietly, she began taking bites, bringing the fork up to her scarf when she would bring a gloved hand up to, momentarily, pull the covering down just low enough to slip a bite into her mouth. She would then pull the scarf back up while she chewed, and continued along like this.