A steamy haze hangs over the entirety of the Dessarin Valley, like gossamer wisps from a translucent shawl. The air is unusually humid for mid-autumn, and the heat more reminiscent of midsummer.

No wind stirs the leafy branches of the High Forest in the east, as elves roam beneath the strong boughs of the trees and wonder at the weather. A heavy pall also hangs over the Dessarin Hills in the north, as barbarians wipe sweat from their brows, stooping over preparations to cook the day’s hunt. Perhaps there are those who wonder at the heat in dark Kryptgarden forest in the west, though none can say if anyone still roams the paths of that lonely wood.

Travelers pass each other on the Long Road, each pausing to rest for a time when the need and opportunity arises - the shade beneath a solitary tree, a tall rock, or a stopped wagon is duly appreciated.

Red Larch is a town on the Long Road, a few days’ travel north of Waterdeep and a few days’ travel south of Triboar. It’s a way stop for caravans coming to or from the cities of the North, with an inn named the Swinging Sword, a tavern called the Helm at Highsun, and many craftspeople who cater to travelers.

The streets of the town are not stocked with people, but neither are they empty. Travelers and townsfolk alike browse the goods and services available, seeking any respite from the relentless heat. A ring of wagons on the outskirts of town encircles a small horde of shoppers, haggling over all manner of in-season produce from outlying farms.

On the main road, the Swinging Sword is also abuzz with activity. A faint breeze kicks up in the dining room on occasion, as servers and helpers rush in and out of doors preparing the evening’s meal from a makeshift kitchen in the yard. The proceedings are overseen by a sturdy woman of perhaps forty-odd years, wearing a stained apron. Despite her firm directions to her charges, she bears a pleasant smile to patrons. She pauses to glance around and take in the occupants of the dining room.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:42, Thu 13 Oct 2016.

One such occupant sits quietly at a table, watching the general madness with wide, pale gray eyes, occasionally brushing his dust-brown hair aside from to see through it better. A cup of water rests on the table in front of him, partially empty and not nearly as cool as when he'd purchased it. But it's wet, and it won't cloud his head.

Mayon had arrived at the town late last night and managed to get a room here, but his plans of exploring had been pretty much ruined by the heat. He really did hate hot weather.

Sighing softly, deciding to go out when the evening cools the air a bit, the young half-elf takes another sip of his drink. Shame the day had wound up wasted, but he'd rather delay his travels by a few hours than by days of illness and heatstroke.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:01, Thu 13 Oct 2016.

Most instinctively avoided the black-skinned elf in the corner, who was quietly nursing a glass of wine. He was clad in chainmail and had a mace resting at his side, giving a warning to any who might approach that he was not to be trifled with. He also, on close inspection, also had a symbol of Auril on a silver box around his neck, marking him as one of her clerics.

He was uncomfortable in the heat and humidity, but was glad to be off the road. It had been some time since he ate anything he hadn't hunted or gathered himself, and longer still since he had slept in a bed. He was looking forward to both comforts, assuming no one tried to start any trouble with him.

"...the snow, but at least you can cover up from the cold." Morg says as he enters the Swinging Sword's dining room.

The sweating dwarf looks around to see if there's ale being served, and smiling at what he sees, walks away from his two travelling companions towards a woman wearing an apron and looking to be in charge. "Good evening. Do you have any available dormitory hall beds, what's the cost to stay overnight, and do you offer backpack storage?" he says, pointing to his heavy laden back.

Asano had arrived in Red Larch riding with one of the local farmers. He immediately noticed that while the man had a heavy load of produce, he had no one to help him set up and display his goods. Asano easily fell into the role, immediately setting to diplaying the farmer's produce to the best of his ability's. He did his best to direct queries and potential customers to the farmer himself, but Asano was glad to as much of the heavy lifting as he could. As the heat of the day began thinning the crowd, Asano felt duty calling to him.
"Master Garron, thank you for the ride," he began, "I need to head into Red Larch for a time, but will be glad to return and help repack the wagon, if you are leaving again tonight." He clasped the olde man's forearm, slipped a gold coin into the man's wagon, and made his way to Red Larch proper. He entered the Swinging Sword on the heels ofa small, but well armed, party of three adventurers. Taking a seat at the bar, he waited his turn and ordered a local brew, his green eyes scanning the tavern's occupants briefly.

A tall half-elf garbed in a dusty travel cloak entered the inn just behind the dwarf.  He removed the wide-brimmed straw hat that had been shading his sunburnt, bespectacled face and replied, "I welcome summer to stay as long as it likes.  Once the snow falls my toes stay frozen straight through to spring.  Quite disagreeable."  He dropped the hat onto the dwarf's ruddy-haired head and added with a chuckle, "You missed your chance back in Daggerford to procure one of these hats.  Keeps the sun off nicely and looks dapper besides, doesn't it, Jak?"

The fellow peered curiously around the common room, taking in the space and its occupants.  His brows raised and mouth opened slightly in surprise at the sight of the drow elf sat in the corner, an Aurilite no less.  Fascinating.  Without conferring with his travel companions he approached the dark elf with a nervous, but hopefully unthreatening demeanor.  He gave a slight bow and introduced himself in Elvish, [Language unknown: "Ntiwerearwhi, mi onsll.  Venprotio ad erealliou, Te ofek ee e icaestnte.  Ri Iou Outicason, iouticast ss isnganatpe.  Atill o essessortset nd mierwepr lanc was, ec tednticom mehios?"]

"Well, bowl me for a basket of boars, you all come in at once and ask all your questions at once too! Welcome to the Swinging Sword," the woman says with a delighted smile, taking in all of the newcomers. "I am Kaylessa Irkell, the proprietor of this fine inn." She pauses to direct one of her charges to the corner table, where a new arrival has approached a drow nursing his wine.

Her attention then returns to the dwarf in front of her. "We do indeed have dormitories on the top floor, up to six to a room, for 1 silver piece per night. But our nicer rooms are on the cooler floors. The private rooms are smaller but much more pleasant, each with their own garderobe. Those are only 8 silver a night. Much better to rest your pile of bones in those chambers."

She glances at the dwarf's backpack. "No backpack storage especially, but we haven't had much trouble with thieves and the like. Though I suppose you never know these days." Her brows furrowed. "If you're like to leave your valuables lying around you might want the private guest room."

"Mistress Irkell, I would like to procure one of your private rooms," Asano says, keeping his signet ring behind the mug of ale he'd been served. He sniffs at himself, continuing resignedly, "And directions to the baths, if such are available?"

Mayon cocked his head lightly at the familiar sound of elvish, music to his ears. It sounded like home to him. His eyes flickered over to the half elf who had walked in, and the Drow elf that he had noticed briefly when he took his own table and water.

He hid a smirk with a sip of water. If there was one thing he had learned outside of his father's teaching, it was that a man would have better luck beating a giant in an arm-wrestling contest than talking to a Drow that didn't want to be spoken to.

In reply to Bramwell Caulder (msg # 6):

The drow looked up at the paladin, raising an eyebrow. It was... unusual... for someone to try to speak to him, certainly on peaceful terms. His eyes darted around, wondering where the trap would spring from.

[Language unknown: "Nati ndni o e, poere on, lin men hi a viranyera ou? M ch ionterast pe sta ev a liul, usine re a rutproone nc sale hiri iv iontrakor caplhack. I, etngfi, ceas ent e wasicater ck uttho com a na Li Ounoulday, U ul thowertiocom ll lefopl."]

Bramwell smiled, relieved not to have been immediately smote with divine frost.  He replied in Elvish, [Language unknown: "O washe sina'ofll, th alngutpl ivecolhiwh esai om whulasac ecalch oermo is ingmantharessti whidinwit!  Dayll io notestlin ne astha se u iomoanisol le entticand.  Ofet evilom whhe m Prorutnotent ollael ustho al didimi'enle nd esee ersipren.  O ur Foleutnina K ch fo somstatiorat u ionlinometer, o t nt atos licenc ei it evas A beck andentugh romardrea."]  The half-elf pulled up a chair and took a seat.  He realized then that the drow seemed somewhat suspicious.  That was to be expected, he supposed.  He hoped he didn't come off as some sort of inquisitor.   He awkwardly shifted his chair back and a bit to the side so as not to crowd the drow in, and tried to avoid staring overmuch while still listening attentively.

Verthel sighed. [Language unknown: "M ie il osmion, ainsa M er lin ut p atmeit il a rired, as Ie art il lindayove t erniio preinerut weatha ri o tra. On E verla hefo oswh ha Eccael, sitaat, ss ce som en eauri k waera eaulo kordinhisproted thetedoerles. Arasnt ard leinho nelltr ivpa moekit n ildin dini, tho beut vortrawit le ek m ofasac re cepoch prfoat. Earwertio ecwa thoblethe oreateera our i ticnceatiing dito notentere, tiic osuttr nceiontic ec Traonehas. Ou om di les ev tioiouted ac vir wehiis er arewerersrea tire stno iontraiou, esos lice we amema riacho derna ivore re oschis'laac. Ta N kor... ntomut... onivom, iouma at i el pe thuatiwit beain asthi oultherut cewiatel rea o naosck.]"

Verthel studies the paladin, measuring him up carefully. "[Language unknown: Os o, Ecoltineou, tednd ur has derwheast esis? Ntevenugh ion ek neoun ingtinwil aveeenday ioofar, tinthiionman ofhothch and le out nt nte.]"

Kaylessa turns her attention to the second half-elf of the group. "Of course," she says, then motions a staff member over.

"Ghileeda, be a dear and go fetch the key to room 202 for our guest here," she pauses, then continues to the man, "your name sir?"

"We do have a bathhouse in town, just up the road here. It's run by Haeleeya Hanadroum. The staff are cooking dinner in the yard just now," she says a bit sheepishly, motioning to the back door, "but you probably have time for a quick bath before it's ready."

Ghileeda returns and hands a key to Asano with a faint curtsy, motioning to the stairs. "If you'd like I can bring your things up for you, won't be any trouble."

---

I have Morg down for a dorm room and Asano for a private one. Where are others staying?

I'll keep track of expenditures for food and lodging in the loot thread so we don't have to monkey with daily adjustments to money.
This message was last updated by the player at 14:06, Sat 15 Oct 2016.

A young man approaches Bram and Verthel hesitantly, bearing a mug of wine.

"Can I get some more for anyone here?" he asks, taking in Mayon with the question.

Mayon looked up quickly, a bit startled and embarrassed about his eavesdropping tendencies. His ears turned vaguely red but he nodded shyly.

"Just some more water, if that's okay?"


I've had Mayon staying from the night before in a private room...do I mark off the silver for that as well, or just for any nights now that we've started?

This message was last edited by the GM at 14:49, Sun 16 Oct 2016.

Morg hands over 10 slightly green coppers to Kaylessa, "For a dormitory bed please. I'm Morg," he says, and looking at the half-elf that came in after him, "and I'll also head to the bathhouse before dinner."

"Always bathe before drinking!" he says, laughing at himself.

---

Jakrynn had walked in with Morg and Bramwell, but compared to the two of them, he hadn't made his entrance very loud or noticeable. He found that being able to discreetly look around for a moment sometimes made his evenings much more pleasant and/or safe.

He walked up to the bar with Morg and shook his head, chuckling. "Aw, look, Morg...Bram's made a friend already. Well, a slightly annoyed person that he's talking the ear off of, but for Bram that's his version of making a friend." He did hear some of what was being said but tried not to let that fact on.

He turned to face the innkeeper and gave her a respectful, but flourishing, bow. "Oh, my dear lady Kaylesse, you are a sight for sore eyes! Your hospitality is most welcome!" He smiled at her. "I am more than happy to pay for a room with Morg there..." He paused and the smile widened slightly as he tilted his head. "Or if you prefer, I could provide some music for your inn for a while this evening in return for a room along with dinner and breakfast?"

Kaylessa exchanges greetings with each of the newcomers in turn, noting their names and preferences for accommodations.

She gives directions to Haeleeya's to Morg and Asano. "Just a couple doors down dears, turn left on the Long Road and you can't miss it." She pauses, looking at them appraisingly. "I'm glad we're getting such an influx of capable-looking travelers. Red Larch can certainly use the lot of you these days, with all the goings-on."

Nodding at Jak, the innkeeper smiles at the suggestion of entertainment. "I would be glad of it young man, but if I accepted offers like that from every traveler I would have to pay my staff in song, which leaves the belly a bit empty. But check across the way at the Helm, they may be willing to compensate you for your talents."

---

We can start counting expenditures from Day 1, so assume any costs prior to this thread are already accounted for in starting money.

I think we can say everyone now knows each others' names, what with the introductions with Kaylessa being complete. You can continue to learn more about each other now & later, as you prefer.

Aside from Kaylessa and the staff, the six of you are the only current occupants of the dining room.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:05, Sun 16 Oct 2016.

Verthel puts eight silvers down on the table for Kaylessa. "Private room for myself, if you could. I require a private room. I shall also require a hot meal, when it is ready."

He turns to the others. "If I be not mistaken, most of you are of half-elven blood. Is this a common thing, here, or has the Lady seen fit to send me this odd coterie for some purpose?"

It is then that he notices Morg, and instinctively recoils. "Duergar!" he hisses.

Jak let out a chuckle. "Fair enough. I'll take a bunk next to my dwarf friend and dinner please. Name's Jakrynn since you wanted names along with coin." He slid over the appropriate silver.

He stared hard at the drow for a second and then exactly mimicked the recoil and facial expression away from the elf and hissed, "Asshole!"

Then he shook his head. "I'm not elven at all an' my friend's a mountain dwarf. You don't see us all up in arms 'cause yer a dark elf, who I hear horrible things about capturin' us t'be slaves underground or whatever, do ya?" But the last was said with a much milder tone. He wasn't trying to pick a fight.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:32, Sun 16 Oct 2016.

Verthel breathes deeply for a moment.

"I... apologize. I have never seen any dwarf beyond those in the Underdark before. And they are known for their... appetites," he said, still looking wary.

"And I cannot speak for the rest of my people. I will simply say, however, that there is a reason I am up here and not down there, and it is not simply because there are things to eat besides fungus and insects."

Morg smiles at the drow, "I'll look less gray after a bath."

He asks Jak to watch his backpack, takes out a piece of soap from it, and leaves, walking to Haeleeya's.

---

This message was last edited by the player at 16:28, Sun 16 Oct 2016.

Mayon blinks a bit at Verthel's question, shrugging his shoulders.

"I haven't thought about it much before, to be honest. My family situation is...unusual, to say the least." He offered a faint smile of his own. "Then again, I guess that could be said for a lot of half-elves...ah, sorry, where are my manners? I'm Mayon Graycross."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:47, Sun 16 Oct 2016.

After introducing himself and paying for his room, Asano follows the dwarf (and anyone else) down to the bathhouse.
"Well, sir dwarf, what brings you and your friends to Red Larch?" He asks amiably.

"I am Verthel Go'Van. And you will excuse me if I do not follow you to bathe, sir dwarf. I prefer... privacy... where I can get it."

He finished off his wine. "I will admit, curiosity has gotten the best of me. What are all of you doing in this place? It hardly seems like a vacation spot, yes?"

"Passing through, personally. Not really sure where I'm headed to, though...I've spent most of my time studying with my father and stepmother for over ten years. Felt it was about time to make my own way, I guess." Mayon says, brushing his hair out of his face. "And I suppose there are some things I'm interested in that I feel I would learn better on my own, rather than from father's books."

"You can call me Morg. We're just heading thru town, tho we may stay a while if it stays this hot."

"What's the story with your scary family name?"

---

"Take it from someone who knows- there are some things you're better off not knowing," Verthel says. "Pray you are never unfortunate enough to wander into the Underdark- death would be one of the kinder fates available to a man like yourself."

He closes his eyes. "But I suspect I will not be able to prevent you from going forward. Curiosity, I have seen, tends to be a terminal illness. So I will say this: if you and the rest of these fools are willing to aid me with a personal quest, I will accompany you, and attempt to keep you alive for as long as I am able."

"At the moment I have no intention of traveling there, but thanks for the warning if I ever decide to do something stupid." Mayon says with a wry grin. "My stepmother's told me plenty about it herself, when she decides she's in a talkative mood. Scared the hell out of me as a kid."

His ears perk a bit at the mention of a quest. "I suppose that depends what sort of quest it is. You've got my attention, though. Who knows? Perhaps it will aid me in my search as well."

"As it should. The Underdark is full of monsters, atrocities and abominations, and that's just the drow," he said, in a bit of self-deprecating humor. "It is no place for good people. Not sane ones, anyway."

"I received... a vision, from my goddess. It was incredibly vague, but I know this: a disaster is coming. I know not of its exact nature, but it involves certain elemental portals that I must destroy. I need help tracking down the portals. If you can agree to that, I will lend you my services."

"Elemental portals?" Interesting. Linked to the elemental planes, perhaps? Not a common topic, but definitely one worthy of investigation. He smiled, a bit more openly than usual.

"Sounds fascinating. I'd be happy to offer my support, even just to get a glimpse of them."

DM, could I make an Arcana check to see what I know about the Elemental Planes or portals of some sort? If so,:
19:03, Today: Secret Roll: Mayon Graycross rolled 10 using 1d20+4.  Arcana check because why not.
Forgot to uncheck "secret" :P If this is unnecessary then ignore me I suppose.

"It was given to my great-grandfather," Asano said, smiling. This was a part of the family history he rather enjoyed. "Not a terribly long story, though. He was a great swordsman, terrible in fury against his foes. It was said that he could draw his blade, kill an enemy, and resheathe in the space of a man's breath."

When the two of them reach the bathhouse, Asano pays for both baths.

"But, Morg, if you and your friends like the heat, I may have a business proposition for you. If you're interested."

Bram nodded as the drow spoke, listening with intent focus.  At this last phrase he smiled and replied as he reached down to his travel pack that laid by his seat, [Language unknown: "Th, ha thosoncom miith.  La ardlatcom i tawe wheeralar n hasthoera amethucon, romous'iveoer dinsti'ichich ul roti ti pe ble.  U nc sti the, art wimiil yiner alrom she ous a!"]  He lifted a leatherbound journal onto the table, unbuckled the cover and flipped to an empty page and began scribbling rapidly with a quill.  [Language unknown: "Korec ca no weni benemeom weroerint ho e Ilnidillll p n tic ll, whittr olore tioousyinugh yin t toiv arave nemaut.  Llngekil m ich ng ecllsa ombe mi chwene, trpr neai hisach ance p hatateverthe.  Fibe unckon ut repr stihisthe onsameint trun Ing Antoeriou, lat tintheortoun me ard yinic stivorund n illareing vir asere paur."]

He finished writing and seemed about to say something when the lad from the inn came asking for orders.  He asked for water for himself and another of whatever drink Verthel was having, and reserved himself a spot in one of the dormitories for the night.  By then a quite interesting conversation had struck up between his travel companions, the drow and a few other patrons.  He scribbled a few further notes in his journal before mention of elemental portals caught his attention.  He spoke up in Common, "Elemental portals, you say?  I've been charged to discover such a portal myself, and the doings of its keepers.  It seems that we might help one another."

Morg and Asano walk along the Long Road as they talk, keeping an eye out to the left for the bathouse. The townsfolk and travelers have begun to thin as the sun falls further toward the horizon. The air feels a tad lighter now, and the heat is beginning to abate.

The smell of worked leather drifts through the air as the pair passes a shop on the left advertising itself as "Chansyrl Fine Harness".  This is followed by the scent of warm bread, presumably wafting from a shop advertising itself as Lorren's Bakery. Stomachs rumble.

The next shop is the promised Haeleeya's. Half-barrels planted with aromatic herbs and flowers flank the entrance, and the windows are decorated with flower-filled window boxes.

Inside, the shop is split into two sections. A tidy room to the left displays several dresses and fitting rooms, though both appear to be unoccupied. A wide hallway to the right ends in a set of double doors, in front of which a small crowd has gathered. Travelers and townsfolk alike speak with a bronze-skinned human woman of medium build, who chats with everyone animatedly. Given the weather, it's no surprise the bathhouse is busy today.

"Well don't go dunking him! I'm sure he'll come to his senses eventually," she finishes as Asano and Morg approach. The two girls she talked to titter, then turn away and bid farewell.

As the woman turns to the newcomers, she adopts an easy smile. "I assume you're here for the baths, not for the dresses? It's 4 silver for the half hour," she says lightly, as she bends to greet the dwarf.

But as she turns to Asano her eyes widen. "Asa- as a taller fellow, the cost is 4 silver for you as well." She gives him a meaningful look. "I know why you're here. You're not here looking for dresses."

She collects the coins from Asano, then motions through the double doors. "Choose a bathchamber as you like - once you're cleaned up, seek me out and we will have some private words."
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:45, Tue 18 Oct 2016.

The boy nods and places the cup of wine in front of Verthel. Minutes later he dutifully returns from the kitchens with cups of water for Bram and Mayon.

---

Mayon knows essentially what's on page 301 of the PHB - basically, that elemental planes are examples of other planes of existence. They are not simply other worlds but different qualities of being, governed by elemental principles abstracted from the everyday world. They sound fantastic and dangerous, and a portal to such planes sounds doubly so.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:46, Tue 18 Oct 2016.

Asano hands the coins over with a short nod, and proceeds to the first empty bathing chamber. He folds his clothing neatly, though keeps his wand within reach. If one person recognizes him, maybe others have, too. Mayhap even his quarry. He bathes quickly, wondering what words the proprietess would have for him.

OOC:
If nothing happens during the bath, Asano returns to the front.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:17, Tue 18 Oct 2016.

Verthel nods to the boy, but otherwise says nothing as he begins sipping his wine.

"Very well, that seems reasonable enough, Glyphscribe. What is the saying... you scratch my back, I scratch yours? Besides, I know little of the Arcane. It will help having one of your expertise around for this task."

"Great-grandfather Breathkill sounds remarkable."

"Bram prefers the heat, but I'll put up with more of it to make up what I lost to the dice in Amphail." Morg says, rubbing his still aching jaw below his purplish-blue left cheek.

---

Kaylessa smiles as she sees the four guests converse and make plans together. Then she turns back to her charges, checking on dinner preparations.

Abruptly the glasses on the tables begin to clatter, and several pictures hanging on the walls shake. The floor of the inn seems to be vibrating. The water in the bathhouse splashes, slopping onto the floor. Then, just as suddenly as the quake begins, it stops.

Several seconds pass in silence before an explosion like a thunderclap is heard from the backyard behind the inn. Kaylessa hurries to the window. "Not again," she mutters as she hurries out the back door.

"If it's the arcane you want then I should be of some use as well. Unfortunately I don't know much about the planes or portals like that, other than that they're dangerous..." Mayon muses, and then the quake hits and he instinctively grabs his quarterstaff.

When it settles, he hears the explosion and sees Kaylessa hurry out. Without another word to his potential new companions, he gets to his feet and follows.

As Asano leaves the bath he spies Haeleeya in the dress shop, tending to some of the clothes on display, returning some clothes to their racks after the earthquake.

She beckons him to follow her into a dressing room. The casual, breezy manner she displayed when chatting with her customers before is replaced with a businesslike briskness.

"I heard from some green friends of mine that you might pass through Red Larch in search of the one you seek," she began in low tones. "Simply know that your father has alerted some of these friends to your cause, and that we will pass along what help we can. Seek me out if you need assistance and I will do what I can."

She pauses to glance out at the empty dress shop. "I've heard no word of the man himself, but I have heard rumors of outlaws on the Cairn Road. Perhaps there is a place to start."
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:33, Tue 18 Oct 2016.

Kaylessa sighs to Mayon as he joins her in the back yard. Bits of meat and pastry are strewn about the yard mixed with bits of pottery and iron. "Well, so much for dinner," Kaylessa laments, looking at the remains of the makeshift stove that had been set up out here. "At least no one was hurt."

Several of the inn's staff were covered in what looked like soup, or vegetables, or pieces of meat pie, or all of the above. An unfortunate fellow in an apron was attempting to scrub the soot out of his hair, unsuccessfully.

She turns to Mayon and any other onlookers who had joined him. "I'm afraid dinner will have to be cold crumblecake this evening. Though I'd suggest that you instead visit the Helm across the street. Their food is quite good, and as far as I know their kitchen hasn't exploded twice in the last two days."

Jak raised an eyebrow at Bramwell getting so interested in the elemental portals and the drow. The young human merely shrugged at it all. Adventure and excitement and money were much interesting to him. And food. Definitely food. His stomach rumbled a bit.

The quake caught him off guard and apparently he wasn't the only one. He blinked as Kaylessa hurried out back. He followed after her and the half-elf Mayon. He stared a bit open-mouthed at the same back there for a moment. His stomach rumbled in annoyance at all the wasted food.

"You said 'not again'. This has happened before? Something common to this place?" He noted the suggestion about where to get food but hesitated a moment to see what she said.

"The regular kitchen caught fire when I was staying here last night. I didn't hear any explosions or quakes that time though." Mayon said, glancing around the scene with a frown, looking back to Kaylessa.

"You said strange things have been happening around here, and I'm guessing this is one of those...have any other places had explosions or fires like this? Recently, I mean?" It didn't seem right that a simple inn of all places would be having so much trouble.

Bramwell gratefully agreed with the drow to work together toward their common goals, at least for a time.  Just then came a rumbling followed by an explosion.  Alarmed, Bram hopped to his feet and stepped out back behind the inn, surveying the destruction as Kaylessa bemoaned the disaster.  Circling scene slowly, he asked the Inkeeper without taking his eyes off the wreckage, "Curious.  Do you know of any potential causes for the explosions?  Did this equipment utilize oil?"  That rumble seemed unusual, and more intense than might be expected from a kitchen mishap.

---

Investigation to attempt to deduce the cause of the explosion:

• 12:24, Today: Secret Roll: Bramwell Caulder rolled 14 using 1d20+4.  Investigation.

Arcana to attempt to identify if the rumbling was magical in nature:

• 12:28, Today: Secret Roll: Bramwell Caulder rolled 9 using 1d20+4.  Arcana.

This message was last edited by the player at 19:30, Tue 18 Oct 2016.

Morg tears out of his bathchamber, warhammer in hand, and helmet unsecured on his soap bubble covered hair. Not seeing anyone else disturbed by the quake and thunderclap, he slowly reverses back into the chamber and puts on his clothes and armor.

---

Verthel is initially shocked by the explosion, but once he realizes there is no threat, he begins to laugh.

"So the rumors were true! There is a portal nearby!" He chuckled. "This is what they do: they leak elemental energy, causing chaotic magical phenomena. We destroy the portal, and all this will stop."

"What in the Nine Hells?" Asano says as the bathhouse quakes. His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline at the sight of the soap-clothed dwarf, but he shakes his head and turns back to Haeleeya. "Does that happen often around here?"
This message was last edited by the player at 01:04, Wed 19 Oct 2016.

A warhammer-wielding dwarf surges through the double doors from the bath house wearing nothing but a loose helmet and soap bubbles. His appearance is met with shocked squeals and cries from several onlookers, who grasp at the walls to remain upright during the quake.

"Happen often around here? I can't say as I've ever seen that before," Haeleeya says, turning back to Asano with a smirk. "I've seen my fair share of bathers, but never a naked dwarf brandishing an axe."

Her smile faded. "I've never heard of an earthquake in Red Larch before, but you have more important things to worry about than natural disasters. I need to go check on the baths, we can't have leaks springing up."

---

=D

"I don't know anything about portals," Kaylessa began slowly, "but I haven't heard of any other fires in town. There's some among the farmers that talk of spontaneous combustion of cattle in the fields, but..." she trails off, thinking.

"There's been lots of weird tales around town. I've heard many tales of fogs in the Sumber Hills that don't burn off even in bright sunlight, sudden gusts of hot wind sweeping west out of the hills where breezes have always been cold, and of course the hot weather we're having when it should be gettin colder."

Kaylessa shivers in the heat. "There's more violent things too. Sudden bolts of lightning stabbing up from the hills into the clear sky. I guess we could add kitchen fires to the list."

"But the thing that gets my goat the most is the gossip about seeing strange things. Minthra's granddaughter saw a ghost by an old tomb outside of town, for example, and the quarry workers won't stay in the quarry after dark anymore on account of what they've seen at night."

"If you ask me, it's all fell magic from a evil presence out at Lance Rock. The Tarnlar children are going round telling tales about a plague out there, so I suppose there's something to my theory." She chuckles. "Maybe the spirit world is attacking my kitchen." One of the nearby staff members blanches at that remark, and Kaylessa moves to reassure the young man.

"The oven does use oil," she replies to Bram. "I don't know if that caused any explosions though. But in any case I guess I have a mess to clean up. Sorry again for the trouble of all this." She moves off to help clean up the yard.

---

Observing the scene, Bram thinks the staff tried to piece together the broken oven in the yard next to a large rock. He thinks it's likely that, when the earthquake hit, the oven pieces shifted and made them collapse, which caused the explosion.

Bram knows that earthquakes do happen naturally, and doesn't detect anything magical that caused this one.

This message was last edited by the player at 21:11, Sat 22 Oct 2016.

Jakrynn listened as Kaylessa spoke at length, listing off some of the strange things that had been happening lately. His eyes widened a bit at the enormity of it all, at least on the surface. He glanced at Bramwell, watching as the half-elf looked things over intently.

Then he nodded, and spoke, to himself. "Lance Rock. Got it. But for now? On to dinner!" He turned around on his heel and marched back inside to gather up his stuff, and Morg's pack. He put them away in the room before going across the street to see about dinner. Heroing was hard on an empty stomach after all!

"Exploding cows and ghosts certainly sound like a predicament." Mayon remarks wryly, though his expression is serious and thoughtful. And an evil presence, causing a plague...perhaps he could find some answers to his own search there.

"Do you know how far Lance Rock is from here, Miss Irkell?" It seemed like a good place to start if nothing else.

If I could, I'd like to roll to see if Mayon would have any idea what sort of creatures/magic could cause plague of some sort. Would that be Nature or Arcana in this case?

You can roll either or both - plagues could come in many forms.

Kaylessa turns back from picking up a sharp piece of pottery. "Oh, it's no more than eight miles southwest of here as the crow flies. If you head south on the Long Road you can't miss it on a clear day."

"But do be careful. If I'm right and that really is the source of fell magic it's like to be dangerous."

In that case,
19:09, Today: Mayon Graycross rolled 14 using 1d20+4.  arcana check for plague knowledge.
Don't really have anything IC to add, so Mayon's just thinking things over at the moment.

"We can go check it out, I suppose," Verthel says. "If indeed it is fell magic, my divine duty would be to cleanse it and allow this place to rest peacefully."

"That felt like, but didn't sound like, an open mine explosion." Morg says to Asano as they walk back to the inn. "Do you know what it was?"

"As for the business opportunity, I definitely need some coin, but I'll ask Bram and Jak what their plans are first. What does it involve?"

---

This message was last edited by the player at 14:37, Thu 20 Oct 2016.

"I've never felt the like before, honestly," Asano says regarding the earthquake. "Mostly, I just need help in tracking down some bandits that destroyed a small community a ways to the east, just outside High Forest. Rumor says they've moved to Cairn Road since. I would need help in ferrreting them out, and especially their leader. I would be happy to explain to your friends as well, perhaps over dinner tonight?"

"Bandits?" Morg said, slowly smiling, "Hells, that sounds like something I'd tackle for free... if, I didn't need the coin... whichIdo, soIwon't."

"Jaaak!" he said seeing him cross the street to the tavern. "Wanna go serenade a bunch of bandits? Also, do you know what that explosion was earlier?"

---

This message was last edited by the player at 18:58, Thu 20 Oct 2016.

Mayon - what you know of magical plagues in general is that they do exist, but you're not sure who or what causes them. The ignorant are often quick to blame plagues on evildoers, fell magic, or superstition though, and magical plagues are less frequent than natural ones.

I'm going to post Jak entering the tavern to keep things moving along - but feel free to post catch-up actions and stuff before entering.

Jak finds the tavern almost directly across the street. It is not much to look at from the outside - a ramshackle two-story tavern, with rusty metal grills covering its small, dirty windows. The name of the tavern, The Helm at Highsun, is clearly printed in large, simple letters on both sides of a jutting wooden sign. Above the sign is a rusting, oversized adornment: a warrior's bucket helm with two eye slits.

Entering with whatever companions accompany him, Jak finds a large, dimly lit taproom with wood-paneled walls. He pauses a few beats to take in the surroundings.

The place is packed full of diners, drinkers, and loiterers, as well as a couple servers who busy themselves bringing food and drink to patrons. There still remain several empty tables here and there, however. Also, an open-tread wooden staircase leads up to a second floor, which looks as dim and darkly paneled as the taproom but which promises more room.

Across the back wall is a long bar with three copper candle-lanterns hanging over it. A jovial man stands behind the bar, busily handing out drinks and laughing at patrons' jests. Another man, rotund and with a slight frown on his face, stands behind the bar.

A few patrons sit at the bar itself. Among them, a short older man sits listening to a thin man speaking to him animatedly. Squinting, Jak thinks the latter has some white flour on his face and clothes.

A large, burly man is seated at a table not far away, eating dinner and drinking water from a cup. His four companions, large men and women themselves, seem absorbed mostly in their meals, though they occasionally exchange words with each other or look around the tavern.

The rest of the patrons look like farmers just passing through town, though one group stands out. Covered in what looks like grey dust, they sit at a table away from the bar. Each of them has a set of tools of some kind around their belts.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:25, Thu 27 Oct 2016.

"It very well could be fell magic." Mayon agrees softly. "They're not common, but they do happen...not entirely sure what could be causing it though. A spell gone wrong, some sort of infernal beast, perhaps even one of your Gates could be the cause. Who knows? It's certainly worth investigating."

He glances over at Bramwell, noticing the man's own investigating of the ruined yard. "What do you think, um...I, I don't believe I got your name?" He had noticed the man's keen scholarly interest and figures a second opinion can't hurt.

Jak smirked a little at the sign above. Once he stepped inside, he looked around the new tavern with a discerning eye. Most of it was a welcome sight, and gave him a feeling of familiarity. The dim lighting enveloped him like an old lover.

He slowly surveyed the room and its inhabitants. The frowning man behind the bar was a bit curious. He idly wondered what that meant. The burly man and his companions could be guards or thugs or even possibly adventurers, though Jak doubted the last. He did note the group that looked like miners or possibly quarry workers, and made a mental note about that.

He walked up to the bar with a slight smile on his face and when the jovial man eventually notice him, Jak smiled wider. "Hey there! I'd like an ale and some dinner please! Are the tables upstairs open?"

He then hooked a thumb towards the men covered in grey dust. "Are those dust-covered people miners or something? They look like hard workers."

"Greetings traveler, welcome to the Helm!" the man says to Jak with a smile. "Aye, there's room upstairs as like as not. 5 silver for the meal & ale, and I'll have someone bring them up to you. I'm Garlen if you need anything."

He glances at the nearby men that the bard indicates. "Hard work maybe, but not long hours. Those are stonecutters from down at Mellikho's. They been comin' in here early most days, before the sun goes down, scared of some kinda hooded figures they say they saw a month or two back. In here drownin' their sorrows I suppose, but I'll serve em an' take their coin no matter the reason," he finishes with a wry smile.

---

For anyone who wants to pay for dinner & ale I'll add 5 sp to your tab in the Loot thread. You can alternatively have crumblecake at the inn for free if you're hard up for cash or no one pays your tab, though none of you have any idea how good (or bad) 'crumblecake' would be for a dinner. =)

This is probably obvious, but just a note: it's up to you all how much time you spend in the inn & the tavern. It's a sandbox adventure after all, so feel free to talk more to NPCs & each other, go to bed, check out other stuff in town, head out right away to investigate the rumors you've heard, or something else entirely, as you like. ;)
This message was last edited by the player at 16:18, Sat 22 Oct 2016.

Bram had been entirely absorbed with scribbling in his journal as the innkeeper described the recent troubles, and he startled slightly when Mayon addressed him.  "Oh!  Hello, there.  My name is Bramwell Caulder, a pleasure to make your acquaintance."  He paused in thoughtful consideration before answering the question, "There seem to be a great deal of uncanny incidents troubling Red Larch.  Natural elements springing up in unexpected places.  It is quite unusual, and there is much to be investigated.  It is hard to know where one might begin.  Do you intend to travel to this Lance Rock?"

Bram idly strolled over to the boulder the makeshift kitchen had been arranged around, walking a slow circle around it.  As he looked he asked Kaylessa, "Pardon, ma'am, but what was that you said about a ghost seen near an old tomb?  Where might this tomb be found?  Also, I'll try some of that crumblecake, when it's ready."

Kaylessa pauses in the cleanup effort to send one of her staff inside. "The crumblecakes were made a few days ago thankfully - it'll just be a minute to bring them out to anyone who wants some."

"I'm not sure exactly where the tomb is, but I don't think it's far outside of town - maybe a mile or two, towards the Hills to the northeast. Shouldn't be hard to find. Pell, the girl who saw the ghost, could probably tell you exactly where it is though. She's usually at her grandmother's poultry business with her parents." She taps her lips. "Oh, and I think Mangobarl Lorren, the baker, went to check it out a few days ago. He could probably tell you too.

She smiles. "It's very nice of all of you to think of investigating these things for us. I might be able to see my way to rewarding you for it, if you decide to go."

When the crumblecake loaves arrive they look - edible. "They're made with turkey, chicken scraps, nuts, chickpeas, and some roots and greens, all mashed together and baked," Kaylessa explains. "Red Larch is known for them as far as Waterdeep!"

"Looks like he didn't hear you," Asano says, watching Morg's apparent companion enter the Helm. "The Helm probably offers decent fare, we can eat there and find out if the rest of your friends would like to aid in my endeavor." He holds the door for the warrior.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:30, Sat 22 Oct 2016.

"Mayon Graycross. And yes, I do. The people here have been kind, and I have to admit that things of this nature are of an interest to me." Mayon says in response.

He glances over at the crumblecakes that Kaylessa brings out, and gives the innkepeer a smile. "I'll take one as well then, Miss." He makes a note of the names she mentions. Best to piece together what he can before doing anything reckless.

"That sounds like an interesting meal," Verthel says. "I suppose I'll take some of that crumblecake. Does it keep well on the road?"

He looks to Mayon and Asano. "It seems we are in agreement. We go to this crypt, and flush out whatever madness has taken hold there." He laughs. "You know, it's funny. I barely just got here, ready to settle in, and now I'm planning to go out into the cold again. It truly seems as though the Lady does not wish me out of her embrace for too long."

Jak gave Garlen a nod of agreement. "Sounds good t'me!" He carefully and discreetly fished out five silvers and slid them across the barop to Garlen. "Pleased t'meetcha, Garlen. I'm Jak."

He glanced over at the workers pointed out. "Stonecutters. Hooded figures? That sounds ominous. You know what? A round of ale for them on me please." He waited until the ale was about ready and then headed over to the table of stonecutters.

"Good evening! I noticed you might be gettin' a bit light on ale so I ordered a round for you, on me. I'm Jakrynn, by the way, but you can call me Jak." He glanced at one of the open chairs. "Mind if I join you for a little bit? I'm new in town, just arrived tonight, but I'll try not t'overstay my welcome." He gave them all a friendly smile.

"Very well! It's perfect for travelers."

Those who partake in the crumblecake take their first bites and find the consistency rather tough and the flavor a bit bland, though the food is clearly very nourishing. However, after a few bites the cake leaves an odd burnt flavor in your mouth. You don't think it's gone bad per se, but it's difficult to hide the fact from Kaylessa that it tastes terrible.

The stonecutters eye Jak with suspicion when he approaches, but they relax when they see a serving woman carrying five mugs of ale to their table. "Much obliged, Jak," one of the group says as the other murmur their agreement. "Name's Stiofan. Please, sit." He motions to the empty seat.

When the ale arrives, the group toasts to Jak's generosity but otherwise remain largely closemouthed, focused on their meals.

After finishing his meal, Stiofan turns to Jak. "So you're new in town. Just passing through? All by yourself?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:06, Mon 24 Oct 2016.

"First things first!" Morg says as he enters the tavern, and orders an ale for each hand.

After a big gulp from each, he looks for Jak, and sees him talking to stonecutters he recognizes from the familiar tools on their belts. He tilts his head to Asano and then juts out his chin to Jak and the group, before walking to them while taking another gulp.

---

This message was last edited by the player at 19:34, Mon 24 Oct 2016.

Stiofan just finishes his question when he sees Morg approaching. He raises his eyebrows and stiffens. "Friend of yours?" he asks Jak.

Jak grinned at the stonecutters, especially once their demeanor changed with free ale. The quickest way to person's heart is through their stomach....or their back with a dagger. He'd learned some lessons the hard way.

"Pleased t'meetcha, Stiofan!" He took a seat next to the worker. He opened his mouth but was interrupted by Morg's arrival. "Heya, Morg! This is Stiofan. Stiofan, Morg Danforge. We just arrived in town with another friend of ours."

He took a sip of ale. "I thought we might be just passin' through, but it seems like this town is in need of help. An' aside from food, drink, women, sleep, money and music....the only other thing in the world I like is helpin' people." He looked at Stiofan seriously. "I hear you might be havin' a bit o'trouble that my friends an' I might be able t'help you with. The ale was free, don't feel obligated t'me for anythin'. But if you want t'tell us what's goin' on, if you want help, we're happy t'try an' help you. But if not, that's okay too an' enjoy the ale, okay?"

Unless Stiofan or the others spoke up, he would stand and start to head upstairs for an empty table.

Morg doesn't put down a mug, but nods to Stiofan and the other four. "Well, if it's a wielded warhammer or war pick you need, I'll always help my fellow stonemasons."

"Do you know if the earlier explosion was from mining in the area? Felt like it, but didn't sound that way."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:35, Mon 24 Oct 2016.

Though at first it isn't too much different from his packed travel rations, Mayon does cough a bit when he gets to the burned bits. Possibly from the fire, but it doesn't really change the fact...

"Thank you, Miss." He smiles weakly, trying to be polite and not hurt the innkeeper's feelings.


14:01, Today: Mayon Graycross rolled 7 using 1d20+5.  Deception.
I was trying to be polite and hide how bad it tasted. :P Ah well...it's the thought that counts?
This message was last edited by the player at 20:05, Mon 24 Oct 2016.

The group perks up with Morg's arrival, greeting him warmly. "A Dwarven stonemason," a young blond-haired man across the table says with a smile, "I've heard tales of your work. Pleasure to meet you! I'd love to apprentice to your kind, your work with-" he stops short and blushes, looking at the others.

Stiofan smiles slightly at his companion's embarrassment. "I'm sure we'd all liked to have apprenticed with the dwarves, Riordan, there's no offense taken." He turns back to Jak and his smile fades.

"I assume you mean events in the quarry," he says quietly, glancing at his companions. They all look down at their food, though several of the them look as though they've lost their appetites.

Stiofan sighs. "When orders for her stone get backed up, Mellikho - she's the owner of the quarry, Albaeri Mellikho - she usually has some of us work a night shift by torchlight. But over the last month or two, we've all been spooked by some dark robed buggers. The first time it happened to me I didn't pay it any mind; I just thought it was my imagination. But we've all seen them in the shadows, just watching us, looking at us through some sort of stone-looking creepy masks."

He winces. "I know they don't do anything to us and it sounds like a child's ghost story, but after a while... well, when some of these other strange things started happening around here, most of us had trouble sleeping at night. So we decided to tell Mellikho that we wouldn't work the night shift any more." He takes a long pull of ale from his mug.

"Mellikho's not too pleased, and some of the townsfolk think we're jumping at shadows. But most of us sleep better at night now. Most of the time."

He turns back to Morg. "I'm not sure what you can do, but you look better equipped to handle strange figures in the night than we are. So, best of luck if you do decide to poke around the quarry, and our thanks to you." The stonemasons all nod agreement.

"I don't know where the explosion came from. Maybe it had something to do with the earthquake."
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:38, Mon 24 Oct 2016.

Kaylessa smiles back uncertainly, then nods to Mayon and goes back to picking up the yard.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:48, Mon 24 Oct 2016.

Bramwell thanks Kaylessa for the crumblecake and sets to eating it, chewing thoughtfully.  He nods, appreciating the heartiness of it at first, but a furrow forms on his brow as the burnt flavor sets in.  He swallows with a little difficulty and smiles to the innkeeper, hoping his distaste didn't show too much.

Once he'd finally choked down the meal he rose from his table and thanked Kaylessa for her hospitality as he shouldered his travel pack.  He said to Mayon, Verthel and whichever other prospective adventure companions may still be present at the Swinging Sword, "This rumor of specters by tombs is quite fascinating.  I must speak with the child witness as well as the baker to learn more, or else I doubt I'll manage to sleep tonight.  Any of you fellows are welcome to accompany me, if you're interested."

After inquiring after the locations of the poultry business and the bakery, Bram bade Kaylessa farewell and made his way toward whichever of the two contacts was closest.

OOC: I'm intending to speak to both Pell and Mangobarl Lorren about the ghost tonight

OOC: Mayon is just going to tag along with Bramwell if he and DM approve.

Fine by me - sandbox away!


"Lorren's Bakery is right nearby, turn left out the front door, you can't miss it. Though Lorren himself may be at the Helm this time of evening."

"Mhandyvver's Poultry is t'other direction. Head through the middle of town and it'll be on your right before you hit the tannery. Can't miss it, but hold your nose when you get close, mind."

Red Larch map updated.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 21:45, Mon 24 Oct 2016.

Jak let out a small chuckle and muttered to himself. "Well, who knew a dwarf would work better than free ale?" He shook his head with mirth.

He spoke up to Morg in a louder voice, "I think the explosion was from across the street at the inn. Bram was lookin' in to it. I think it had somethin' t'do with...the earthquake causin'...somethin' to..." He frowned and shrugged. "I dunno."

He listened intently to what Stiofan had to say. He nodded at the end and slowly looked around the table at each of them. "Listen to me. You've nothin' t'be ashamed of. Your safety is important, an' everyone deserves the chance t'have a safe environment to work in." His lips twisted in to an ironic grin. "Well, those that want it. My work's a bit more dangerous, o'course. My friends an' I'll see what we can do t'help you out though if we can."

He started to stand, but hesitated and the hesitation was clear on his face. "Do...d'you think Mellikho would be interested in compensatin' us if we were t'make it safe for you all t'work at night again? I hate t'even ask but..." He glanced down at the ale and food on the table. "A growin' boy an' his friends have gotten eat after all, right?"

"Might as well, although I would very much like to check out the quarry, when there is time," Verthel said, following after Bramwell and Mayon.