A dark, richly-gleaming backpack led the way as U’lin entered from the kitchen.  ”Thank you, Ara, that ribbon was perf- oh, you’re all down.  Oh,well, nice, of course, just surprising, although it is perhaps a touch later than I realized.  It just wouldn’t have done to provide this without a nice ribbon, and Ara was so helpful to find a good seamstress she knew that had such a lovely colour that she thought would bring out the colour of Moira’s eyes – I should have picked some up at the festival, but nothing seemed to suit, and Ara was quite right, so all worked just as it should have.

“Ahem.”  The firbolg was unarmoured, but carried his weapon with him, and his backpack of adventuring supplies was strapped upon his shoulders.  He stepped forward, passing the new backpack within his hands down to Moira's giving hands.

Closer view confirmed the firbolg's second backpack was a Hin-sized dark leather backpack, oiled against rain, and bound by a very pretty Chateau green ribbon that lightened along one border.  The backpack had some strange arrangements of covers and flaps upon it, but U’lin smiled hopefully as he passed it to Moira.  ”I remembered something that you mentioned around the campfire one night.

“Happy Birthday!

“I… hope this is helpful.  It’s nothing saying that you need it, of course, but it seemed more mete, if you know what I mean.  Certainly not fair to have uneven stations, hmm?” he added, clearly explaining what he meant without explaining anything.

"Oh! Moira, happy birthday! I'm sorry, with all that's been happening it completely slipped my mind what day it even is today." Thente said as he took the parcel from Moira.

"You really didn't need to, but thank you." He couldn't hide his eagerness as he set about opening the parcel. He was focused on the parcel unwrapping when U'lin returned, and with a gift for Moira no less. The firbolg really was a sweet-hearted individual, very in tune with those around him. Far more than Thente ever was. At least one of them had remembered her birthday.

"U'lin! You got out early this morning, did you get a chance to eat?" Thente asked as he pointed his chin to the piled food options on the side of the room.

"Oh thank you Moira!" Claire beamed delightedly, leaning down to give the halfling a big hug. "May the Coinmaiden and Great Mother bless you with a most wonderful birthday! And you really didn't have to go all the way to get us presents, but that's really kind of you."

"And good morning U'lin!" Figured there was no way she could have risen earlier than the firbolg after all. That was a nice bag he'd got for Moira. She made a mental note to look out for something appropriate later on. "Yes, please come have breakfast if you haven't already."

Right out of the fond hug from Claire, which was returned full in kind with as grand a squeeze as Moira's shorter arms could manage, the offered satchel was taken with a coo of surprise and equal delight.  Quickly sat in place atop the Hin's lap so that she could look it over and check the finer details.  "U'lin, this is lovely!  Thank y'so much!"  A good bag was the enduring sort of thing that could potentially become an heirloom; her own well-used satchel had in fact been inherited to begin with, and she knew full well the Firbolg's craftsmanship was beyond reproach.

Of course, a gift was best met with a gift in turn.  Just like Claire and Thente, U'lin too came on the receiving end as Moira hoisted out another parcel for him.  A fair bit heavier from the effort she had to give it and, unlike the other two, noisier?  Where the Humans' presents were silent, his clanked and jostled and frankly sounded... well, broken.  "This is for y'as well, love.  G'wan, open 'em up, th'lot of ya."

---

Thente
As Thente was the first to set into his gift, its contents were revealed to be a pair of items.  A nightcap made of an unusual, smooth-as-water silk that had a silvery sheen to it.  It was very warm and comfortable to the touch, and its tail was so long and padded at the end that, even while being worn, it could very easily be wrapped about the neck like a scarf or rolled up as a pillow beneath the head.  Whenever it was moved about and light shifted across its surface, an otherwise invisible layer of simple arcane symbols subtly woven into the material shone briefly into view.

The second item was a stout, leather-bound book that bore its title printed on the spine thrice over.  Once in the runic script of the Giants, second in modern Dwarven, and finally in Common - "Conversations With Jotun" - as written by the Dwarven scholar, Holmeag Underview.  A skim of its pages revealed it to be a reprinting of a journal; Holmeag had spent decades in the company of Fire Giants and Frost Giants learning what he could of their culture, history, and beliefs straight from the horses' mouth.  All documented with his own speculations on the subject, along with his personal analysis of their ancient language.  Being in such close contact with differing Giants for so long gave him considerable insight into the development of their vernacular, regional and generational slang, and linguistic context many outsiders could never understand otherwise.

"See, I figured y'would get a lot of good use outta somethin' like this'un." Moira explained with a fingertip drummed at the book's edge.  "Th'fella goes into plenty of detail 'bout th'language specific t'how Giant-folk themselves use it.  U'lin and I can help cover plenty in teachin' it, but y'might get more outta this for understandin' it."  A gesture was given for the nightcap.  "And that'un's for sleepin' cozy-like.  Figure with all y'were talkin' on with those odd visions of th'past, it might help; it's got a real mellow enchantment on it what makes sure y'only have good dreams.  Dunno... just figured maybe it could help focus y'dreams on th'good parts, or at least make sure y'had a peaceful night of it."  Ultimately, she could only shrug.  "If nothin' else, it can get pretty cold at night this far north, so it's best t'bundle y'noggin'!  I won't have y'gettin' a flu."

---

Claire
Like Thente's, Claire's parcel contained two items, and one was indeed a book as well!  The first was a delicate hairpin of simple yet gorgeous make; a brace of supple living dark wood bound in ivy, all woven together into a single small accessory.  Its branching portions artfully curled and wrapped around tiny porcelain flowers, which gave the entire hairpin the look of being a naturally growing, blossoming vine.

The book, meanwhile, was bound to be immediately recognizable at a glance.  "Legends of Toril" was a well-known work beloved for generations, though it came in many different forms.  A compilation of stories, fables, hymns, children's tales, songs, poems, legends, and lore from the world over, from nearly every race and culture, translated into Common.  No doubt she'd seen many versions and perhaps owned one in her own youth; lesser varieties had fewer or simply the most popular stories.  But the version Claire received was far and away the most elaborate to be found, as well as the most comprehensive.  The stout leather and copper binding bore the imprinted signet of the Candlekeep archives' distribution, an attached silk bookmark, and its pages easily held hundreds of tales within while most copies usually only held a few dozen.  Among the fine printing were also gorgeously designed illustrations every dozen of pages or so, depicting scenes from classic tales and heroic figures of renown.  As was customary of all printings, however, was that there were a handful of blank pages at the back so that the owner could put their own additions to the collection, that they might someday be fully adopted in later prints or simply make the copy all the more personal.

"See, I actually used t'help move some of these m'self from an Elf trader out east; that's fashioned from th'trees of Cormanthyr by th'Wood Elves what still live there, comin' here by way of Silverymoon.  Y'put it in y'hair and it'll grow like ivy t'bind y'hair up for ya'.  Give one of th'flowers a twist t'turn it back t'normal, and it'll even do y'hair in different styles based on where y'set it." A bit of fashion never went amiss and, with how long and thick her own hair was, Moira knew full well how much Claire might struggle with her own locks sometimes.

"As for th'book, I figured y'might enjoy somethin' simple.  Salve for th'soul, yea?  Stories like these are a lil' piece of home, no matter who or where, and it's fun gettin' t'look into other folks' tales.  It's a big world and one of th'best ways t'explore it, and t'know folk better, is by hearin' th'stories worth sharin'." she offered Claire a gentle squeeze at the arm.  "Or maybe just havin' a bit of memory from older, simpler times, yea?"

---

U'lin
Lo and behold, another book!  Rather different in structure than the leather-bound manuscripts, it was instead a sturdy brass plate with mounted rings at once side, on which were set what looked to be dozens of thin, individual books all collected together into a single omnibus.  Each book was only a few pages long each and were clearly written by different authors, and skimming their contents made it clear some were even writing in response to each other.  An unusual item for an eclectic topic; the overall theme of the collection was that all of the books were individually written by engineers, mages, artisans of Dwarven and Gnomish repute, and even a few amateur hobbyists.  All discussing, debating, analyzing, and frankly gushing about "legendary machines"; a variety of devices, from castles that could be carried in one's pocket and grow upon request, to a full-tier sailing ship that could be folded up into the size of a crate, to some kind of elaborate, multi-terrain war apparatus originally credited to some "Kwalish" fellow, to even the cloud-cutting skyships that had been developed in ancient Nethril yet returned to prominence in Haluraan, far to the south.  Not only did the papers include an abundance of conversation but, as the writers were all impassioned professionals or hobbyists, they also contained various blueprints, formulas, speculative theories, and schematics on all the contained machines.  Some more contentiously argued than others, with revisions and annotations galore (a few of which devolved into petty name calling, but still).

The second and rather noisy item was, in fact, very much broken.  A hinged-and-lidded wooden box of clearly Gnomish make by its style of carving and fine copper fixtures; the lid's interior was decorated with a lovely illustration of a lush forest on the bank of a deep blue river.  When tilted this way or that, a subtle lenticular carving effect made it look like the boughs swayed in the breeze and the water gleamed with daylight.  The box itself, meanwhile, was filled with a messy clatter of metal bits, bobs, springs, gears, and a wide assortment of other pieces that U'lin's knowing eye would recognize as Gnomish craftsmanship, but in no discernible state of being anything other than a busted-up mess.

"Now, I told a fella in th'marketplace 'bout what y'do and he helped point these out t'me.  Th'writin' is a collection of some kinda gazette from Amn, where a whole mess of folk got good and noisy writin' in when some crafter fella printed an editorial... well, y'can read it y'self.  Figured it was th'sorta thing y'could make more sense of, and maybe draw some inspiration from with y'own work.  There's some schematics of skyships in there too - at least th'commonly published ones - and that's gotta be worth somethin' for y'Dream, yea?"  It all barely made sense to her and she had to trust her intuition when it came to whether or not she'd made a good choice in heeding such advice.

"And for this'un... well, apparently it's s'posed t'be a music box, with a lil' mechanical bear what fishes in th'river while th'wheel plays 'A Brown Bear's Wandering'."  A simple, well-known old song about a bear who somberly mused on life while he hunted and how the world would change after he awoke from hibernation after the coming winter.  "'Cept it apparently fell off th'back of th'wagon and got kicked by a horse, so now it's busted t'Avernus and back.  But I said t'myself, Moira, what's th'silly bastard love more than tinkerin' and a challenge?  So... think of it as a puzzle, yea?  We know what it's s'posed t'be, just not how, and I hope y'can have fun with it as a sorta piece of home.  I know well as any it ain't easy bein' so far afield."

---

To specify the raw mechanics, the gifts are various Trinket-tier items that I wanted to make as flavorful and fluffy as I could:

Thente: A slightly magical nightcap that, when worn, gives you pleasant dreams, and a book of "Conversational Giant".  Mostly for flavor and fluff, and to help give more context to Thente picking up a new language as he levels.

Claire: An also slightly magical Elven trinket; "A small enamel flower that, when put in one's hair, animates, tying back the wearer's hair with a living vine with flowers; plucking a single flower from this vine returns it to its inanimate form".  The book is a custom Trinket of my own, but one I figured would reasonably exist in-setting.  I made sure to splurge the necessary GP for the deluxe edition.

U'lin: The book is the "user's manual for an apparatus of Kwalish", which I elaborated on more broadly to include other commonly available but still fantastical magical devices like the Folding Boat and Instant Fortress.  No mechanical bonuses when it comes to crafting, but hopefully good inspiration.  The music box, meanwhile, is a currently broken Tiny-size Clockwork device, as specified by the Rock Gnome's racial "Tinker" trait in the PHB.  It's a music box by description, but what U'lin actually crafts it into can be anything from that list the DM approves of.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:35, Mon 27 Dec 2021.

"Oh, how delightul!  Most interesting!  Moira, you do find the most.. hmm, so why are you not... mm... so where is your partner - ah, two spot-oh, wait!  Yes, thank you very much." The firbolg was so quite impressed in Moira's gifts that it took him (more than) a few moments to re-emerge headspace.

When he did so, however, he shook himself and tapped his forehead.

"But I didn't show you what I did with the bag.  Again, you don't need to use it, but if it helps, then you have it, and that's just good preparation, don't you agree?"

Reaching over, U'lin's long fingers unhooked concealed fasteners within some of the odd pouches, and the covers slid aside to reveal pure mithral!  If the item had been of value before, it was mightily so now!  One of the mithral sides slid down, and part of it flipped around.  Four legs unfolded and unfolded, with U'lin pointing how they could be adjusted for height.  "These were stiffer than I liked, but should also provide better support because of it, so there is a benefit everywhere."

Then, flipping up another panel, and the back of the bag had become a seat with a low backrest.  The first arm folder, providing a hin-sized writing platform.  A couple handle/straps along the side provided footing.

In addition to being a very fine water-proofed satchel, the bag turned into an adjustable height work desk!

"I didn't think it proper if you were doing all manner of negotiation that you wouldn't necessarily have a desk around, or if you were working at nights on the road.  Now you have it at hand?"  he looked tentatively towards Moira to see how his gift was received.

"There's even a recessed spot here along the side to attach a writing kit, and a slide-out symbol of Waukeen - I went for a slide out instead of built in, in case there were different ranks or times you would use silver or gold or wood or metal, for instance."

Thente just stared at the opened parcel as Moira described its contents to him.

For the keen eyed among the group, which usually was all of them, they could see some tears welling in Thente's eyes as he looked at the pair of gifts. He did his best to duck his head down and wipe them away, without being seen, as Moira moved on to explaining the other's gifts to their respective recipients.

"Thank you Moira..." he managed to croak out as he almost caressed the the sleeping cap and then started thumbing through the book of giant language and lore.

With Thente seated and Moira perched on the table's edge as she was, it afforded one of the few opportunities where the two were ever close to eye level with one another.  Especially since his recent growth spurt.  But, as the young man fought his own rising emotions, Moira gave him something else - something that she'd meant to give him the moment he woke up, but had withheld from for the sake of allowing him and Claire their time.

"Of course, love."  Gentle words and an equally gentle embrace; the Hin reached out to take his broad shoulder and pull into a warm hug for a lingering moment.  Their first, she realized in the back of her thoughts.  She didn't want to embarrass the boy though, so she kept her squeeze brief and parted with a fond smile.

Just in time for U'lin to manage his way out of his internal distraction and announce there was more to her gift than she realized.  Moira herself was more pleased that she'd gauged correctly; the Firbolg's immediate diversion with the mechanical mess reminded her of one of her young nephews who just fell into block puzzles the moment he could get his hands on them.  But as U'lin unfolded the various elements of the satchel to prove it a transforming utility, her eyes widened.  First at the revelation of such features, and then in mild inward panic at the realization of just what he'd used to fashion those plates and poles.

It took a beat of silent gawping before the Hin found her words.  "Ah... first of all; thank y'again U'lin, that's wonderfully thoughtful of ya'.  Th'seat alone is a treat."  Frankly, she imagined she'd get more use out of it as part of her cooking equipment, using the satchel to carry her prime ingredients, where its features could give her somewhere stable to sit and offer a work surface to prepare on as well.  "Secondly... d-did someone teach y'how t'make this sorta contraption, or did y'design it all y'self?"  Depending on what his answer was, part of their errands for the day was going to involve her taking him to register with the local branch of the Splendid Order guild and draft a patent document to Candlekeep...

"Oh, no, just something I put together," U'lin, still concerned/anxious, assured her that it was not something that he had taken from another without recognizing them.  "I started thinking about it when we looking at lightening things for the Dream, and that made me think of all the work you do, and the negotiating work.

"I did find a couple things I would change for later designs, but I wanted to see what you found helpful and not - better to tailor a crafting to what's needed in improvement, hmmm?  I originally had spice pouches inside, but then you have your magical pouch, so that didn't seem to make as much sense, so I went more modular design like the Dream, and left areas where you can inserts specialized carrying compartments for inks or spices or ..hmm, I suppose you could put concealed compartments within to prevent against theft, or for important documents.

"I didn't know if it would work for you or not, or how much the work weight requirements -for the paperwork, I mean-, or the conditions, so I went with mithral to reduce the weight without compromising the strength - it should also help hold any enchantment, if you find need to do so.

"I thought it was quite simple to unfold and restore, but I left a parchment in one sleeve at the back of the main compartment, and the parchment outlines the steps both ways.  Oh, and your initials are where you can find them in case it would be stolen.  I did put a maker's mark in there somewhere as well, so no one would think it stolen from the craftsman."

Wonder danced in Claire's eyes as she listened patiently to Moira's explanation of the presents. "This is truly amazing, Moira. And you put so much thought into all these gifts! I'll treasure these very much, I will," the priestess beamed, clutching the finely-wrought edition of the Legends of Toril to her chest. The Legends happened to be especially dear to her. In her inquisitive childhood, she'd read the singular, fragmentary volumes that were easier to come by, and still more were related to her orally by her parents. This was the first time she'd personally possessed a full volume, and such a beautiful one at that.

U'lin's gift elicited equal amazement from Claire. "Why, that's a really great gift too Ulin. And it's so you, isn't it? Truly the Wonderbringer must smile upon you!"

Picking up the rich, dark-hued living wood hairpin, Claire combed a hand through the back of her hair, setting the ornament gently in her platinum-blonde locks. The brace soon began growing, threading tendrils delicately through her hair, pulling a layer of light-catching locks to bring it together in an elegant, luscious half-up do that wouldn't have looked out of place on an aristocrat, yet complemented rather than contrasted her relatively simple dress. A few blue-violet blooms sprouted for an accent of colour, putting the final touch and drawing back strands that revealed ears poking shyly out of wheat-hued tresses. "How's it look?" The judgement of her companions would suffice in place of a mirror.

Right back into his ramble, it seemed.  Moira just chuckled and patted U'lin on the arm in good humor.  "It's grand.  I just wanna get th'chance t'introduce y't'some like-minded folk later today.  Gondites as well, some of 'em." she offered her own grinning reassurances before she set about working to return the satchel to its bag-form, for the sake of figuring out how to do it herself.

Claire's approval warmed her smile even further and, as she tried on the hairpin, Moira gave a pleased nod.  Elven fashions were always a bit much for her own style, but the likes of Claire wore them better.  "Pretty as a picture, and it suits a Chauntean well, I'd think." The Hin eased a cheeky grin Thente's way, "What d'ya think, hmm?" she prompted him outright.  A brief shuffle into her pack produced a handheld steel mirror - the same one they'd seen her use in managing traps - which was offered out for Claire to have a look of her own.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:48, Tue 28 Dec 2021.

Thente accepted Moira's gentle, and quick, hug for what it was. As the tears receded from his eyes he looked to her and smiled. "Thank you again Moira," he said softly as she moved on to looking at the intricate gift U'lin had given her. Of course it wasn't just a backpack from U'lin, he thought to himself. Leaflord, I wonder what he'll want to do to the ash vial I want for the giantess' ashes...

Distracted as he was in thought about the gifts and what U'lin's craftsmanship might mean for the vial he'd wanted to construct with U'lin, he hadn't really noticed the gifts Moira had explained to Claire or U'lin. Until he looked at Claire more directly from Moira's prompting.

When he saw the elven artifact in her hair and how it had clasped her hair and grown blue-violet blooms to contrast her already beautiful hair, Thente's breath caught and he struggled to respond to Moira's cheeky question. Finally he managed to get out something in the sylvan tongue, [Language unknown: "Ie Athoom Anpa astidi stiar p oulerevirdinwhe u heous M ad olwiom ro wer."] Perhaps for the first time in sharing something like this though, Thente didn't blush and look away, but just seemed to be drinking in Claire's face and look with the hair clasp, saving or savoring it for the future.

As the party opened their presents and finished up their breakfast, they get the sense that they are not the only ones in a festive mood. Indeed, as the hour grew late the hall become increasingly packed with other adventuring and mercenary groups - each of whom proceeded to nosily dig into the spread before them.

Outside, the crowd stirs and swells, stalls and stands all coming alive as the Yartar Harvest Festival begins!

OOC: Its currently mid-morning, feel free to split into groups from here, or just finish up/discuss IC where you're going.

EDIT: Putting the lotto results here so there's an IC post tracking them:

Zaiya: free Temple Consultation or Service worth 100gp
Thente: x5 "Extra-Game" Tokens and x5 "Hin Special" Tokens
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:06, Thu 30 Dec 2021.

A rumbling stomp, bit by bit, as from the stairs above descended the tiefling wizard who had been getting yanked from side to side, with nary a moment to breathe.

Until now at least.

Which isn't to say that she didn't still have some bags under her eyes and a lack of spring to her step, but she had taken the nice, warm room and lack of disasters as a chance to recover somewhat from the events of the past days, and seemed a spot better off than she had been.

"Morning everyone"  She mumbled, slumping over at a convienent spot with a sigh.  "How are we all doing today?"

"Ey, there she is!  Happy birthday, Miss Zaiya!" Moira chimed in good humor, even if she was well aware such cheerfulness probably wasn't what a sleep-addled scholar was likely up for at the moment.  Thankfully the Hin's peppy manner came paired with a more concrete boon as she slid over the last of her brown paper-and-twine packages across the table for Zaiya.  "I was afraid y'were gonna snooze away th'whole day.  Wouldn't blame ya, truly, but it'd be a shame t'miss th'festivities kickin' off.  We were just sortin' out birthday gifts and plans for today."

Zaiya
Like the others, Zaiya's present was actually two gifts.  Unlike the others, however, she was the only one not to get a book at all.  Wrapped in the plain brown paper were a pair of thin, finely embossed, lightly woven storage boxes that seemed like they came from a more high-end merchant.  Within the larger of the two boxes was a rather plain-looking hooded cloak woven of some kind of almost silk-like material.  A bit drab at a glance, but obviously of extremely high make and quality.  Zaiya's experience with the arcane would be able to quickly recognize subtle, delicate sigils of Transmutation magic stitched into the lining as more than a mere decorative flourish.

The second smaller box appeared to contain a sheep's wool handkerchief.  Its material was more sturdy but so finely knitted as to be comparable to full linen, and richly colored black with blue accents along its edges that matched Zaiya's usual dress.  Like the cloak, the portion of cloth also had Transmutation sigils worked into its weave.

"Gotta be honest, love; I was pretty stumped tryin' t'figure out what t'get ya'.  I was thinkin' books or mage-craft, but I don't know th'first thing 'bout magics and y'probably read a wider span of books in a year than I've in m'life so far." Moira confessed with a helpless shrug.  Magic was beyond her understanding and mages even further so; she didn't even know where to begin.  "But y'always seem such a fashionable sort, so I figured that'd be a good angle t'try."

Inside the box with the cloak was a handwritten letter of authenticity from one "Maestro Delvi Harrow" of Neverwinter, written in finely scripted and flowery Common detailing the craftsman's gratitude and a rather indulgent description of the cloak's qualities.  In particular, it seemed Maestro Harrow was a mage himself and had personally enchanted both the cloak and kerchief with transformative traits to suit any social situation and fashionable need.  Meanwhile, Moira plucked the handkerchief up and idly folded it about into a tidy little triangle.

"Th'merchant I got that from made quite a show of it.  Seems if y'put th'cloak on and think for a second, it'll change its looks t'pretty much any style of cloak y'want.  Same sorta thing for this.  Y'fold it different ways and give it a tug, and--" Moira folded the small cloth just so and, with a quick snap, it suddenly became a stylish pillbox hat in her hands.  A firm shake returned it to being an unfolded cloth once again; she folded it a different manner and gave it another snap, which instead produced a beret.  Once more and she got an angled garden party hat, and again rendered it as a top hat, and then again to produce a beanie with ear flaps.  "Neat lil' thing.  Real once size fits all kinda trick, even with horns, yea?"  she said as she handed the kerchief back with a grin.

---

Zaiya's gifts are a "Cloak of Many Fashions" Common-tier Magic Item, and a "Folding Hat" Trinket.  They offer no mechanical benefits but a wide array of fashion options for the trendy Tiefling about town.

Cloak of Many Fashions - Xanathar's Guide to Everything:

While wearing this cloak, you can use a Bonus Action to change the style, color, and apparent quality of the garment. The cloak's weight doesn't change. Regardless of its appearance, the cloak can't be anything but a cloak. Although it can duplicate the appearance of other magic cloaks, it doesn't gain their magical properties.

This message was last edited by the player at 08:20, Sun 16 Jan 2022.

"mrrrrrhhh"  Zaiya mumbled as the packages were slid over, she couldn't help but feel like it was just some annoying paperwork or missive that found its way here somehow for some reason and...

Wait, that didn't make sense, she didn't even know she was going here until relatively recently!

Awareness returning as she unwrapped the packages, she found herself staring at the finds...  There was a hat!  And a new cloak!

Magical ones too even!  Ones that wouldn't tear or break or be the wrong place at the wrong time!  The hat even took her horns into account!

"Uhhh...  Well then!  This is a pleasant surprise!"  Zaiya admits after a moment, clutching the cloak close.  "Honestly wasn't expecting something like this, but it's handy!  Thank you!"

"Hope y'like it, love.  Y'deserve a lot more than just that for all th'nonsense y'put up with bein' in our company, no doubt, but it's a start.  I'm sure th'rest agree with me sayin' we're glad t'have y'along."  Moira didn't try to push it any further than that given how Zaiya had shied away from displays of affection prior.  Still, she didn't need to give hugs to let someone know they were appreciated.

With gifts finally managed, the Hin gave a sharp clap and rub of her palms together, clearly eager for the rest of the day to come.  "So!  T'day's a big day.  My birthday and Miss Stoor's too, in a weird sorta sense.  Highharvestide's in full swing with th'biggest variety of merchants from all over y'can hope for, and we've th'city t'explore as we please.  So let's make th'most of it!

There's th'festival grounds themselves, of course.  Plenty t'see and do there.  Not t'mention th'other craftsmen and traders who actually have permanent shops here in Yartar.  I had m'ears open earlier and even heard there's some kinda ritzy rich-folk to-do goin' on at th'bay; a big evenin' cruise where they fancy themselves up and hobnob." No doubt that sort of high-society affair wasn't appealing on its own for their lot, but Moira grinned knowingly with an extra tidbit.  "From th'sound of things, they've got a bunch of magical gear and trinkets up for auction each night.  And a lil'birdy mentioned some of 'em might just be from Giant folk.  I figured we - maybe Miss Zaiya and I, at th'very least - could give it a look and see if there's anythin' worth seein'.  Gettin' tickets for th'cruise is th'hard part, but we can try."  If ever Moira was going to have a chance at making some good connections and selling off oddities from Hyuth's collection, a boat full of rich people with more money than sense the ideal chance.  But there was even the off chance of a chunk of that special metal U'lin and the Giants alike were after might be in the auction lot...

Another thought occurred to the Hin as she gave Thente a glance.  "By th'by, remember those 'rat-like kids' y'mentioned before?  Odds are they're actually Were Rats, so keep y'belongings good and close.  They're not as dangerous as Werewolves or th'like, but still not somethin' y'wanna fuss with." she explained with a shrug.  "Seems there's a bit of a turf war goin' on lately between a local thieves' guild and some upstarts.  Probably the Zhentarim too; they're always lookin' t'sink their hooks in where there's money t'be made.  It's pretty well outta sight 'cause of th'festival, but don't let y'guard down.  Quite a few of th'folk we were givin' charity to on th'way up th'road yesterday were part of th'gangs and guilds.  If any of y'see gangs goin' at it, don't get involved.  Shout for th'guards if y'must, but don't go stickin' y'nose into local affairs."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:37, Wed 19 Jan 2022.

Time passes as the group finishes their breakfast, the gifts shared by Moira a colorful spread on the well-used wooden tables. A few curious passersby steal a glance as they walk past, but most seem more drawn to the noise and bluster outside as the sun rises fully into the sky. Sounds of cheer drift in from the nearby windows, mixed with the occasional shout or jaunty tune.

In fact, as Zaiya comes down and receives her gifts, the music seems to grow louder, the jaunty tune now a full medley of instruments. A few other guests rush to the windows - and from there one can catch a good view of what appears to be a passing parade! A pair of humanoid constructs dressed in flamboyant clothing dance and pirouette past, accompanied by a trio of musicians playing a lute, horn and drums respectively. What looks like a young tiefling woman with bat-like wings circles around the troupe, tossing confetti everywhere while carrying a conical device of sorts in her hand. In between bursts of drumming and cacaphonic playing she yells out in an amplified voice:

"Wonder-Wallace's TRAVELING THEATRE is proud to present: KING LEAR! A tragic comedy in THREE ACTS, accompanied by a FULL BAND and CLOCKWORK WRIGHTS. First Act tonight at FOUNTAIN SQUARE!"

And just as quickly as they appeared, the parade is gone, trailing bits of confetti and the fading toots of a brass horn.

U'lin turned 'round to gaze wide-eyed at the party, his lips forming a silent "O".

"Yea, U'lin, we can go see th'show." Moira couldn't dream of saying otherwise at that face.  "So long as y'promise not t'try tinkerin' with th'stage works in th'middle of it."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:42, Tue 25 Jan 2022.

[From Chapter 4-3: The Golden Goose]

The front desk of the Adventurer's Great Hall barely bats an eye at the party's plus-one- the festive mood and rotating nature of adventure party's leading to a much more flexible notion of room size. Breakfast however, does only have the initial number of chits provided - thankfully, with Ethgar having stormed off on 'clan business' and Zaiya swiftly deported to handle 'arcane weirdness' there is in fact, plenty of extra space for Aziér.

Thus it is the day after, in the nice upper-class suites the party had acquired in the Great Hall, that the four remaining members have gathered with their fifth prospective member. Room service is a simple matter of ringing the little bell-pipe in the corner, a curious mechanism that seems a mix of mechanical and magical, providing the means for the party to order food, drink or even a late-night snack to their doors at any hour. Provided they were willing to fork the coins for such luxurious service, of course.

Aziér fancied himself a mercenary, but, contrary to what some might think, that was not the same thing as an adventurer. The latter bore some moral weight that never seemed to sit quite right with him. He wielded no misconceptions about himself — his reasons were entirely selfish.

After a yesterday of fancy affairs, he wasn't particularly in the mood for fancy eating. He took what he could, and if that meant spending some gold on the services the establishment provided, then so was it. Likewise, his attire had changed from the sleek and stylish doublet to a far more pragmatic leather Breastplate topped by a dark, faintly purple cowl that had seen better days. "You've been at this long? Adventuring, that is. I've heard tell of events taking place around here — catastrophes, disasters, crash landings, ripples in the Weave — but no name for any group on the side of good has surfaced. Provided you carry one, that is. Or is fame and fortune not on the horizon?"

U'lin's armour appeared about him, cladding the blue-skinned demi-giant in thick steel that molded to his form as only personalized crafting could.  He checked to see that the new belt did not interfere in movement or protection, then dismissed the suit again to be more sociable and something less off-putting in public.

"Oh, my goodness no, not for me at the least.  I was merely travelling down south seeking information about a little crafting puzzle I had found.  I had thought the great cities with their knowledge would have all the witherall, and did find something, but then... well... I came upon Moira, Claire, and Thente, -and another, who was called away to task- and travelled with them for safety in numbers.  Then ended up meeting with some folk in Waterdeep, and our travel paths worked together for the next little bit as they were seeking to return a fallen friend, and I was seeking word on my puzzle... well, and then found a second one in Amphail, so really two crafting puzzles.  Then we found a bit more of what was happening, and just helped as it were along the way, and then again, well, and again, and again - there really was quite a bit happening out in the world - much busier than the quiet of the woods, even with gnomish crafters about and underfoot.

"Oh my... I hadn't considered it, but perhaps we are a company of sorts.  I had always thought adventurers were those seeking great wealth and coin, but perhaps most were simply swept up in things upon the doorsteps of life.

"There is great power and meaning in names, so it is not something lightly considered, but should be, I agree.

"How interesting is that."

Fancy parties and elevated affairs had their place, sure.  In general Moira preferred that place was far away from herself.  The more down-to-earth festivities of Amphail and memory of indulging Rosalind's attention bore a fondness the Hin found herself quite missing by comparison.  Honestly, the lesser nobles at least knew how to have fun with their citizens and serve good, hearty food.

When Azie'r would next see Moira, it would have been fair if he mistook her for a whole other person.  Battered, humble travel leathers, simple linens, bare feet bound in walking wraps?  The Hin in her common clothes was a far cry from the lavishly decorated gown she'd been in prior.  Though the stout black choker with Wuakeen's holy symbol mounted at the center was a constant in her appearance that linked the two diametrically opposed versions of Moira together at a common thread.  "Sounds like us, yea.  We've been steppin' in it every day since we started travelin' north from Nightstone weeks prior.  Several times a day, even."

Moira sat back to nurse a tea while U'lin chimed in.  For once she didn't try to interrupt the Firbolg; the sooner Azie'r got used to his loquaciousness, the better.  His summary was a bit sparse on the specifics though, but she couldn't blame him either.  She'd retold the tale a handful of times already and it sounded like lunacy by that point.  "Short of th'matter is that we ain't a proper company.  Just folk of various skills dealin' with what's in front of us.  And what's been in front of us has been a damn whirlwind.  Gobbos, criminal syndicates, Giants at a civil war, barbarian Werewolves at a civil war they wanna aim at th'Giants, Fey nonsense, Wizard nonsense, politickin' nonsense." she threw up a hand over it all.  And that wasn't even the lot of it!

"It ain't glory seekin' what's kept us goin' so much as folk just need help and we're able t'give it.  Right folk, right place, right time, yea?" she tipped her mug gently Azie'r's way.  "What 'bout y'self, friend?  I know we had y'at a bit of a disadvantage on th'boat, but it's best t'hear it from you what you're about."

Like Moira, Claire looked far more at ease, and plebian, out of the Golden Goose. Clad in a crisply laundered, if completely unexceptional, peasant girl's dress and sandals, only her hair remained well done up, courtesy of the living flower pin gifted to her by Moira. It was also evident that she had not wore much, if any make-up at the festivities. Whether it was a deliberate choice or a simple unfamiliarity with 'city ways' was unclear.

"I figure we're the kind of people who get found by fortune and trouble alike, more than we go a-looking for it," Claire interjected, sparing appreciative smiles at her companions. "Moira gives herself too little credit for keeping us together. And fed. Now that's one good reason to stick around us - you'll never go proper hungry." Soon, she began taking a polishing rag to give her new set of armour, beautifully wrought by U'lin, as much loving care as its creator had put into its making. Offering the excellent protection and light weight of mythril, the ornate, form-fitting set of half-plate contrasted somewhat with its owner's otherwise simple manner of dress. She too, stayed silent but for a knowing, bemused smile while U'lin bubbled away as only their stalwart firbolg friend could.

"Yes, do tell us about your travels," deciding her cuirass had received sufficient care, Claire turned her full attention to their newest colleague.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:17, Thu 21 Apr 2022.

"What I'm about . . ." Aziér whispered to himself, his fingers inattentively brushing against the handle of his mug. He hadn't taken too many swigs, as he knew how he handled alcohol. It was quick to muddle his brain and dull his edge. "Well, I hail from the Underdark, as you might have been able to infer. If you haven't been, don't — it's as bad as it sounds. Since surfacing I've made my way through the world as a sellsword . . . sellbow? Larbaeth," he used the Elvish word for it, as it was less discriminatory of choice of weaponry, only to immediately think of a proper synonym. "A mercenary. But don't mistake me for a common thug. I've had the benefit of being selective in my work. As Moira correctly pointed out, my recent endeavors had me undertake missions for the Harpers and the Vaultwardens." He wondered at how they had managed to sniff that out, as he had tried to be secretive about it for his employers' sake. If anything, SEER might have had something to do with it.

"Let me say, you are fortunate you've stumbled upon me," he continued, leaning forward as he decided to forego tiresome humility. "I mean no offense, but you make it sound like you've been wandering around aimlessly, doing whatever's within arm's reach. Reacting as opposed to . . . proacting?" Was that a word? No matter. "If I were a Giant strategist, I could conjure a million distractions to divert you from critical matters."
This message was last edited by the player at 10:13, Thu 21 Apr 2022.