The village of Birnasi was an unusual one, built on the ruins of the elven clanhold of the Birch Tanasi.  Some nine hundred and sixty years ago, a human woman named Jerica Ograbeish (legend spoke of her killing three ogres singlehandedly, undoubtedly one of those stories which became more dramatic in the re-tellings) had loved an elf of the Birch Tanasi.  When orcs had laid waste to the clanhold, Jerica had led an army of mercenaries to fight the orcs.  Today, the village stood as a rather unusual place set about a park of carefully tended birch trees, though the stumps of damaged birch remained as a reminder of the past--a community made up almost entirely of half-elves, most of them wrong-side, living in a peculiar blend of elven and human ways.  There had been talk of a sword competition in honor of Tuoro being organized in Birnasi.

Birnasi was the last village in a string of villages and hamlets before the caravan route turned into the foothills, a half-way point between the extent of the far-flung ends of the mines and the port city of Barrowmar.  The village had been formed by the road splitting around the park, curving to create a large oval area as the road came back together to continue on toward the foothills.  On the northern arc was a large inn.  The inn, and all of the houses, were cheerfully whitewashed and adorned with brightly painted red shutters.

  The cloaked figure stopped at a vantage point and looked over the village until he spotted the inn at the north side with its red painted shutters. Jex pulled back his hood and took in a deep breath, let it out, and smiled. It was good to be back near some semblance of elvish culture, even if a human influence could still be felt. Leave it to the half-breeds to find a way to keep the two in harmony, he thought with a mix of fierce pride and mild disdain. Necessity is motivation. His green eyes and upswept ears were enough to bespeak his heritage, just as the orange stitching on his quiver and the auburn fletching of its arrows revealed his clan.

  Jex'Kannon slid the hood back over his head and meandered towards the inn. He took in the whitewashed buildings and cheerful colors hoping his stomach wasn't growling loud enough to attract unwanted attention. Rations did the trick but couldn't compare to even the barest cupboard of an inn's kitchen, and he'd looked forward to getting here from the moment he'd decided to make the trip.

  Perhaps it's a day of luck and they've stashed some good wine, he wondered. Perhaps they've even got a game going with an empty chair...
This message was last edited by the player at 16:13, Thu 12 Dec 2019.

A Half-Elven village... such a thing is quaint enough to even draw in the most odd of ducks.  While others may be trying to avoid the eyes of others, Jensen holds no such illusion.   He's used to being the center of attention... disdain, whatever.   Whether it be his odd clothes, manners, or just being a half blade-ear, all of it had long since clad him with carrying either the 'Odd' ball, or the scarlet letter.   Whichever it was very much depends on the beholder (or beerholder, provided the Inn).

The man sauntered easily along the main road to town, lute strapped on his back, and blade sheathed at his side.   He quipped, mostly to himself, "And now t'see if that Competition truly will happen.   Maybe you'll get that muse back yet, Ol' Son..."   His deep voice echoed quietly in the empty air, although the self-reflective comment draws another smirk out of the half breed.

It surely looked to be a good few weeks.   If nothing else, he could scrape travelling money together from the Inn, and shove off to the next destination.    Provided he could keep his intake from cutting too deeply into the profits.  Singing always was thirsty work.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 10:42, Thu 12 Dec 2019.

For one Annya na'Veila, said village and inn were a waypoint betwixt the sacred grove where she'd previously sojourned, and the one to which she was en route.

Birnasi was a most unique settlement.. one she would have wished to visit, even had it not lay directly within her path of travel.     Its legacy was one of tragedy, redemption, and love.    The latter, where it occurred between elf and human, was a delicate thing --  perched precariously as it was on the border of two very different worlds.   Yet this love had endured, giving birth to something profound.

At a table along the inn's eastern wall, she sat and sipped reflectively at a glass of wine --  an oaked white that she found to be a particularly good vintage.   And, of Autumn's sept as she was, she did have a bit of know where it came to wine.

Gazing out the window next her, she observed the distant approach of a pair of travelers.  On roughly similar timing, from different directions.   She smiled slightly.  Were intersections in nature and life not often so-?     She too was in the path...merely having arrived earlier.  Something spoke to her that she was where she should be.

A human likely would have written it off as the wine.    But an elvish priestess did not.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:02, Thu 12 Dec 2019.

She was grateful for Captain Myferd for dropping her of so close to the Inn. This was after all a port of call for the Waverunner, but carrying her on his horse as he attended to an errand for Duccay Ulrich was kind of him. It meant she would not have to march the whole way to the inn from the Waverunner on her own two legs, and a child being dropped off near an inn was commonplace enough to not be marked for comment. There had been a tug towards this establishment     , even before she had mounted up, like a magnet to a filing.

Was she the magnet, or the filing?

No matter.

It was a cool night, with a bit more of the bight of late autumn’s chill in the air this eve, and the idea of finding warmth   by a fire, and perchance a bit of wine was pleasing enough. It was information she truly needed, and the only gossipmonger she knew of might not be in the inn this night, but he was the best bet for work to be found in these parts, and if she was going to be saving  silver, then she’d need work.

Only a dozen good strides now, give or take.

She was coming at the inn from the rear, not from the road, although she had gotten a look at it well enough from practically atop the saddlebow. There was a line of yellow slipper orchids, enough to think them planted there, paraded all along the circuit, and she’d not be surprised to find them beyond too. Here and there a bit of dogwood, and azah’amin — with thorns as big as boot knives — could be found here and there standing among the Birch, which was a good sign.

She opened the door to the stables and soon enough was walking down a well-lit, if currently empty passage that took her straight into the common room.
She took a quick glance about before entering, old habits die hard, and seeing nothing that should stay her tread, she entered.

Thanks to her size, and the steadiness of her movements, some wouldn’t even notice her presence. She didn’t want to be noticed, not yet at least.

Zaryk waved good-bye to the farmer that he had travelled with from the last village. He had been tempted to take up the offer to stay at the farm and save the coin, but he wanted to experience Birnasi, the village of half-elves! ~The inn will be best place to really experience this place.~

It was only four weeks ago that he said good-bye to his father at the harbour in Barrowmar. He had wanted to help to unload the cargo, but his father had told him that was not his job anymore, at least not for now.

Zaryk had spent some time in the port city, taking in the sights and sounds and smells. He had heard of Birnasi from a vendor selling meat pies, a village of half-elves built on the ruins of an old Tanasi town. It sounded too intriguing to miss.

As he walked through the town, toward the inn, Zaryk couldn't help but smile, the village looked so cheerful!

Pushing his hair off his face and behind his ears, he stepped into the common room. ~A warm meal and hopefully a soft bed...I hope my purse is not too light.~

Garrick crested the low ridge and grunted at the sight of the village.  Another stop along the way and perhaps a place where he could find some more meaningless middling work...if he didn't piss off his employers or get run out of town because he got ornery with the local constables and didn't do enough to toss him in a cell but enough to persuade him to leave before they did.

Ever closer, slowly but surely he came, and his eyes searched for signs of any of the thrice-damned maggot eating bastards having watched the town from a healthy distance.  He didn't spot anything out of note yet but it was just a matter of time he told himself.  He made it all the way up to the inn before someone thought he was a child looking to get in.  Turning his head to the 'concerned' and 'helpful' individual disabused them quite quickly of the idea.  The fact that they didn't seem to be what they thought gave them a long pause and as he didn't wait for the person to say anything before entering he didn't hear what was said to him.

Seeing all the half-elves his sighed at all the rabbit breeders and slipped between their clumsy selves as he made his way to a table and chair or booth at the edge of the common room for him to sit down and nurse his tired feet.  If nothing else the place was starting to fill up so he kept his ears attentive and his eyes perceptive...

As it happened, small detail frequently was not lost upon Annya.   Small people, either.  She noted the entrance of the gnomes --  both similarly care worn in appearance.  While they did not seem to have come in together, they did look to have hard times in common.

Larger detail -- and people -- were not lost on her, either.    The tall, dark haired man might have been one of the half-human locals.    She would have thought so, had he not been wearing the distinctive auburn of her folk.   Right-side Neroli, then.   Really, he could pass for pure blood elf, save the height.

The gnomish woman looked not to have been eating well, lately.   Perhaps, she would offer to buy her a meal, if it seemed she did not have her own means.

As folk entered the inn, they were greeted by a man who, typically, bore all the evidences of a half-elven heritage; not so typically, he stood well over six feet in height. The well-polished bar had seven stools, and about the room were fifteen round tables, seven of them with six seats and eight with four seats.

Two of the larger tables were occupied by human men, one who was a little better dressed than the others, while the remaining men at the table wore the look of fairly typical sell-swords, though they had somewhat decently removed their armor and arms, presumably stowed already in the rooms they were taking for the night, but the scars and boisterous talk was enough to announce their occupation.  The fact that several mugs of ale had been emptied by many no doubt contributed to the volume.

Other tables were at least partially occupied by folk who looked like they were undoubtedly local, but here for the companionship, the ale, and the ham-and-bean soup.  From these tables could be heard the occasional snippet of conversation "Collin will never make it past first round" "I heard Waniela is coming to judge" "...bust--need more competition".

"I tell you, it's wolves," said one woman, her hair done in the style which seemed to be common amongst the older women of the village, a braid wrapping around the head like a veritable crown, leaving her own half-elven heritage clearly on display.

"No, wolves leave bits behind.  There's no sign of the sheep that've been taken--no blood, no wool, nothing," said a man at the table with her.  "It's ghosts."

"You've had too much ale, Thom," she said.  "It's a wolf, and that's that."

"People say they seen the ghosts of those kids what fell down the mine fifty years ago."

"Ghosts don't eat sheep, Thom."

Jensen would be the type to pull up at the door when the most interesting conversation slid above all else.   He's just got that talent.   That ken is just well within his wheelhouse.   One may even call his karma just outside the lines of terrible, pulling which-a-way and that... just because reality truly is a ship at storm for one such as he.

Probably why he's wearing the calmest of smirks.

Not being one to see himself out of any conversation, he slides by, and offers his own commentary after giving a nod to the Innkeep.   Jensen comments behind a grin, "Ghosts at it again, eh?   We have it on the goodest of authority that Ghosts go a'chew on stuff other than th'meat, Mate.  Best you worry, should find a sheep all lyin' akimber w'out a mark on 'er, but... up an' disappeart ain't no ghost's style."

He moves the hand holding the lute strap on his shoulder to indicate his travelling credentials, before cementing the comment, "Been round the way twice 'r more, sound more like you got someone makin' scarper with y'sheep.   Keep a weather eye open for the stickiest of hands, our thoughts say..."

At which point he gives them a small wave and heads for an open table.   The halfbreed sits down on a chair, with one leg folded under... If only to make a better base for when he inevitably is asked to play.   However, this is the rarified air that he loves best.    All that's left is to arrange the pay scale with the keep.   Like most things, Haggling could be thirsty work.

"Welcome to Finian's Inn," said the barkeep, though the way he said it made it almost sound as though he were calling the place "The End", though careful ears could pick out the correct name.  "What you having to drink?"

By now, the room was starting to be permeated by the aroma of the hearty ham-and-bean soup bring prepared in the kitchen.

"Adelina done told me," said the man who'd been speaking of ghosts, "what she seen some inky black gobbos skulking about.  Ain't had gobbos in these parts for years, and not any what looks as funny as that."

  The elven archer strolled through the ornate double doors to the inn and pulled back his hood, hearing the familiar sound of the dreaded rattlesnake. The tall man with elf blood who greeted him didn't notice, instead smiling and politely urging Jex to take a seat and consider a hot meal. I'm gonna find that damn snake...

  Jex'Kannon thanked the man and made his way to a table unfortunately close to the middle of the room, but with an empty chair amidst the locals in animated discussion. He swallowed his disappointment there were no games, at least on the main floor, and sat down in time to hear his table compatriots speak of ghosts and missing sheep. A bard opined it was skullduggery before sitting himself down to play the lute. "Aye, I'm inclined to agree with the storyteller." Jex said, hoping not to be impolite.

  He was finally able to order some early dinner and a glass of wine. The inn grew busier with the end of the day drawing near, the locals and a few travelers like himself steadily filling the tables. Jex was ready to hear the evening's entertainment by the time his ham and bean soup and a second glass of wine were set down before him.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:40, Sat 14 Dec 2019.

Odette had  been quietly , but steadily making for a corner table with only two men were currently seated, when the  fine hairs on her kneck began to prickle. Eyes were upon her, but checking to see who’s they were would probably attract more attention than she cared for.  It wasn’t surprising that someone would notice her, or mayhap they spied the Warhammer strapped to the pack on her person and wondered why a lass had it.

“Excuse me lass.”

Hammerfall.

Not the eyes, but all the same more attention than Odette wanted at the moment. Fortunately at that moment a nearby table began speaking of ghosts and wolves and sheep, so the distraction might draw attention away from her and the woman addressing her.

“Yes, is something wrong?”
The speaker had the look of an inn maid, or perchance a bar maid, it was hard to say which, clearly half-Elvin, and equally clearly heading towards a different table with a tray of soup .

“That’s Avar’s table, he’s expecting company. He won’t refuse you, but with the folks that’ll be coming it will make things awkward, particularly when your own folks join you.”

 “My thanks.” Odette offered the maid, naturally quite lovely in her garb and air and speaking,    a slight bow before shifting direction away from the hopeful respite, and briefly catching the gaze of the eyes that had caused her neck hairs   to stir.  From her current vantage Odette couldn’t tell if those eyes, and their owner’s attention had slipped to one of the conversation in the room. Part of her, a sizeable part, had hoped they had. Still she couldn’t count on the bard, or the fighting elf to keep that attention for long, and the breach of decorum  that Odette would make if she had made eye-contact and not approached the table. Obviously asking the she elf is she desired anything was out of the question, even if she wasn’t nobility,  still there were forms. Even if said elf didn’t follow them, or even if there was only mere curiousity at play.

Life was sometimes complicated.

At least Odette could approach from the wall’s side.

[Language unknown: Wil ntta ceis ven ain fi fi un to ichlatpro estinewas san itusss, fistr Fi st?]
This message was last edited by the player at 18:39, Sat 14 Dec 2019.

Zaryk maneuvered his way around the tables, chairs, and people, nodding to any who caught eye. He claimed the stool at the bar next to the wall. Shrugging off his pack and bow, he carefully places the pack between the bar and his stool and covers it with his cloak, and then stands his bow against the wall.

"A cup of wine, and a bowl of whatever it is that smells so good."

He sits with his back to the wall and relishes his first sip of wine, before letting his gaze wander about the room. The tables of boisterous humans stuck out immediately from the many people dressed in farming garb.

He notices a man with a lute, perhaps there would be a performance.

One group of locals having an animated conversation were sitting with...an elf? And from the colour of his tunic, apparently a Neroli elf! He would introduce himself, after his meal.

Then he spies another elf, this one female and silver-haired...speaking to a child!

The inn's clientele was nothing at all what Zaryk had been expecting...[Language unknown: "Thiourtedort itul anytin-wheous,"] he says to himself, and then he is interrupted by the arrival of a bowl of delicious smelling soup that steals his attention for the moment.

Annya's attention was momentarily swapped from people watching to gossip gathering. She had overheard the dialog concerning ghosts, gobbos, and young ones half a century gone.   And, her coin was on the so-named 'gobbos' -- she supposed that meant goblins -- rather than restless wraiths or wolves.  It did make more sense...so far as the rustling of ruminants was concerned.

Her thoughts regarding the topic were then suspended, once she noted the petite hammer-bearer making her way over. After apparently having been asked to re-situate. After being hailed in clear Neroli dialect, she smiled.

[Language unknown: "Astin oun pl us es enstmo ncwa butus atewheday enove kormenherundain. Ndtr, astintons ta.  Fo eauvorhat Iosaei.   Nt adng on os whiameent?  O, k ecame o fi fo ncpl le ai di o?" ]

A young elven maid who appeared just old enough that she might be considered woman rather than girl, her face showing clear familial ties to the bartender, circulated the room, delivering glasses of wine and mugs of ale, along with the wooden tray holding a bowl of day-old bread containing the ham-and-bean soup that filled the room with its aroma--a presentation which was human in style.

Bringing a mug of ale to Jensen's table, she said, "My da wishes to know if you've a talent with the lute you're carrying, and if you'd be playing.  If you'd be playing, he'd be obliged if you go to the end of the bar."

In reply to Annya na'Veila (msg # 15):


Suaviloquencely delivered, and pleasurable in their content, truly the Smith must be smiling on her for chance to put Odette so close to one of such a character.   Perchance she had earned a brief interval of repose given the past. Perchance here, truly here, Odette could start anew, with a clean slate, and slowly burning away ancient memories that still haunted her nocturnal reveries.

[Language unknown: “Ll airoie, Anriwa, I o Icckin, eithi   K sonallven ni om neossi tomana omelck ennger  alltiners nti Oreessleshatdin. Tr terersera serifo ic onone somat o m whi a korio naha. E A ur , T sawas korantion thuwilsom hothu ee osen rutvirrat.”]

Odette was quite pleased with not looking over long at the she elf’s hands while speaking.  While the elves of Doriathriana, were good folk in all her dealings with them, old habits would be a long time in dying. Still, she hadn’t made eye contact again, and Odette wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. Maybe    it wasn’t. Maybe  Annya wouldn’t notice. Maybe starting over was going to be as hard as she had thought aboard ship.

Maybe… too many maybes.

Odette was thankfully distracted from her woolgathering by the presence of another member of the Inn and soup and a mug of ale    was speedily obtained & coin promptly exchanged, since Odette always desired to keep her accounts balanced. Speaking with the head of the establishment could wait till later, and she could find out if he was amenable to her sleeping in the stables. She hoped so, sleeping with a gag in her mouth wasn’t exactly comfortable.

[Language unknown: "Ate celin, Thithashe.   Sanfo ca ti sewamo pro haoutrlo e a ou anyil notnteour, manti."]

The lack of eye contact was noted.   As well as the color of the eyes.   Elvish folk sometimes had eyes of amber.  But, she'd never seen such a true and pure gold in anyone's eyes, before.    She was reassured when Odette ordered a meal, and had the means for it.    She looked very much as though she could use it, and Annya was glad she'd not arrived in a brand new place without some coin in her purse.

[Language unknown: "I are us asaios ai salo comartpre usday pl, ck iv ectblewil thiai essom."]   She gestured briefly, without pointing directly in a rude manner.  She arched (arched more, that was to say) a pale brow, [Language unknown:  "Re omevenast essionous ng ca re ervor larortwhe us forencugh.    Sta o ectorttho, cente derrathouday he ear ndnt ss iswe m asati."]

It was gentle invitation for Odette to tell of her experiences, if she desired to. Or speak of any outstanding need she might presently have.   Without probing or pushing, which Annya would not do.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:15, Sat 21 Dec 2019.

Jensen obviously engaged a bit of charm for being thusly entreated.   The man cut a odd sort, considering his accent stayed rough as they come, but his courtly manner changed the timber of the conversation.    He replied, "Well, y'see... This one here, she play herself, an We can but ask nicely, Love.   Sure'n I kin coax a song or ten out o'her given time and proper greasin' of the throat.   An' if'n yer Pa offerin' the best seat in the place, how could our reputation survive refusin?  The Propri'tor gits th'first request, mind ya.   Although, we wouldn't mind one from th'prettiest in the place, neither."

The way he smiled indicated he was being flattering... but, the one currently going by John bowed in agreement, and readjusted himself to the end of the bar, after he corralled his drink.   The bard resumed the one leg folded sit, this time with the lute positioned properly for playing.   He took a swing off the mug, and sighed contentedly with that old warmth associated to alcohol.

He asked the barkeep slightly overloud, "Suren y'got a request for us, fore we get a'rovin?"  A old trick to snag some of the attention around the inn.  He does sing for his coin.

"Ah, and sure you'd know the Saga of Arginjy?" replied the bartender.  "That can do for a start."

  The inn was almost full with the setting sun and they were quite a mix of interesting people from different cultures. No ablachi, he thought with a note of disappointment. I'd love to finally meet an ablach in the flesh. There were two Neroli finding respite here as well, and one was speaking to a child that had caught his attention when she'd first entered. A scar ran down the girls face and his elven eyes caught a finger half missing from her tiny hand. Jex was going to turn away to avoid being intrusive when he was surprised to see her warhammer and the mature eyes of a gnome looking at the elf woman she was speaking with.

  Jex'Kannon watched the two Neroli with their subtle gestures and mannerisms going mostly unnoticed by non-elves, and he found himself thinking of home for the first time in...he didn't know how long it had been. When he was there he'd seen a troubadour playing that used her heel to keep rhythm with the music instead of her toes. This lifted the whole leg instead of the foot, and consequently had the audience caught up with her in the magic of the tune she played. Tonight's minstrel had his own technique, one leg tucked up under and the other used for support. It was working, and Jex was happy to hear good entertainment while enjoying his soup.

  He finished his meal with one ear to the bard and the other to the folks at his table debating ghosts and goblins, and missing sheep...

Zaryk was throughly enjoying breaking off the edge of his "bowl" to dip into the hot soup when he felt a familiar tug at his leg. He pushed his stool back a little from the bar, and turned slightly, allowing the small orange tabby to jump onto his lap. He gave her a quick rub under the chin before turning back to his meal.

[Language unknown: "Undic et toion Neicth! K leck oun m pafidi, inasti weic icano. Str ithvorcom at na ho one ica ntivenhat romeil ica. Tinwerand fo Urehisles and a alleesck k erall! Beive nce pl ch nc k t mofierad."]

He fishes into his soup and pulls out a piece of meat which the cat sniffs, then tentatively licks, and then ignores and goes back to grooming.

[Language unknown: "Beare elwhonek. Na u, Il ivatlo antwhithu nd atesonith ulll ort at lin hiie thiun haekne."]

Finishing his meal, Zaryk signalled to the bartender for another cup of wine. With a sigh of contentment, he turns to put his back against the wall. He sees the bard is now perched at the opposite end of the bar and appears ready to perform.

[Language unknown: "Ceout t pl iontrahis, Onmaun, tin llas Ca fitr rineilho eeeene wi nc elonisckti the."]

When the Elvish maid came around he spoke up in the common Calandian tongue, “Cannae get some stew and what passes for ale around these parts?”  It wasn’t insulting or demanding but tired and callous as he tossed back his hood so that his face could be more easily seen and there be no question about if he was a child or not. Despite his still appearing young it sounded like he’d had a rough life and niceties weren’t a thing he bothered with anymore.

Odette probably burned through a tenday’s worth of willpower not sighing after the first bight of food. She had been dragonning her coins for a hand before the voyage, and often missing meals aboard, as there was that bit of the shivers that had been spreading, and preventing it from keeping the whole crew down had taken work. There had been sleep missing too, although Odette wasn’t too sure how much she’d missed that. The absence from the galley though, that had already caused her to lose pounds she didn’t have to miss, was an entirely different matter.

5 Griel down, 8 left to go.

After that she’d be silverless. She had the assorted coppers left in her coinpurse, but relying on them was like depending on rain in a desert. Perchance even worse.



The male gnome was noted, as well as the barely discernable signs of his militant training, and the hints of a taciturn demeanor — she had been searching for marshal minded men, as her full plans would eventually  require them. Of course the first possible candidate would naturally appear when she had not the currency, or the current wherewithal to recruit him.

And yet… and yet… a plan was beginning to take shape.

Time to be brutally honest.

The spoon stopped midway to Odette’s mouth on the third bight, and then promptly set down. Odette’s eyes made one more tour of the room at large before turning to her elven companion. Well, first to her hands, then to her face, , although they didn’t stay there long, as they seemed to slide right off that to a place right over the lovely elf’s shoulder.

[Language unknown: “Prosanble es vir ce an ureinging ulove unut essorevir, n Ousthooer pre m Ore in esriai inebe ersestlar. Ll resth ll eraencuretio poeefi avell wasoutrut… mi p ofent niwas un inwh na pratpa, ainntiomesan outee urpe fi waany, outen uthe earesssomntinte urepreilliou linntiany.  E a of ur illlarwil ll k ughndewas utpaul sewaro cepl earle ecloro, hoseusbeme ter ad moalngenom ne chic lat.]

At this Odette’s sight scampered over the bar and the elves there, resting on the lute player a bit longer, before flitting over the room once more.

honesty, honesty, say on.

[Language unknown: “I’ad ofceca m and linaio no ic  Herwhipro hoen wema t etpe ad pe ntihisven ntme shetheive a elheet ie n ckta is Vororeous Sachtisa meos t Cesan, hi hiwing ncess ereationeeau es cheind uneing e paniol tiurni. A ek iv k tapl'nccenc thunc ntedi, olpe a wasnc pl at is lllo laelan m omnde eshiat plut, tina sta fibe p ughiveoul ie etsta. As vir urven te, o trant trlari conla, a nc e setek er n erswernti'eresom traantwerhastin entck se witoulion. Of olday ame on ofove ngrut oul ilrees omebleaveard.”]

With that Odette returned to her meal  and ate a couple swallows in a most perfunctory manner to them, as though her mind was anywhere but present.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:21, Sat 21 Dec 2019.

Jensen nodded to the Innkeep.   He closed his eyes a moment to remember the story, then drummed out a momentary beat with his fingers on the lute.   The bard started in on the melody after locking the measure into his own mind.    He intoned to the room, allowing the moment to get set for the song, "Not a moment 'afore two score and three hundred ago... A Legend was born, one of us.  Bred half into other cultures, an not long on 'eroism this one.   Arginjy he hailed by an long.   Weren't but humble folk, an a Counselor beside.   But, the Gods smile and caper about, castin' trial afore many t'see just how hot that crucible be..."

At which point, the Bard started singing in earnest, his baritone voice seemingly scaring off shadows as he rolls the thunder into the room...



[OOC: Going to split the story into three pieces... Give people time to post inbetween... that way I'm not stealing the show.]

[Language unknown: "Staouless enect na saseanst ut nt ionine, poll entte.  Wasto ichineoer llha siulon la.  K etti prle ons mo art.  Urre icil whi ilck thuna Onecte Ichlesillenc latereive la riekthng isbe polepl arhoer paard." ]

Her eyes too then went to the minstrel, as he began to pronounce. And then to sing-  of this apparently intrepid hero, Arginjy - whose tale began with infidelity and ostracization, and wound into selfless service. In a war that he had not the skill at arms to fight in the conventional way.

A counselor, the minstrel had proclaimed him as.    Elvish sagas and songs not infrequently praised counselors, wise elders, peace makers, and gentle but courageous spirits.  It was less common - from what she'd heard during her travels - for human scribed lyric to do so.     And though this singer appeared to be perhaps half elvish, his style alike his timbre were presentedly human.

It was different than the songs of home; but she'd learned to appreciate as well as value difference.

[Language unknown: "Ec art e erinsano wasarente,"] she remarked to Odette, in a soft tone, between a change of verse.  [Language unknown: "Innd day stidaydin ch wavir Oneineday, inethoous?"    ]

The elven (or perhaps the elves in the room would see those tell-tale signs that spoke of an admixture of human heritage) maid brought Garrick the ale and a wooden platter upon which sat the bread bowl filled with ham-and-bean soup.

About the room, others were waving their tankards, wanting both more ale and to hear the bard's song.

"Appreciated." was the only word he gave but he did nod in seeming thanks, or maybe it was dismissing.  He then got to work on eating the soup and breadbowl as he drank the ale.  The faster it was in his stomach the more time he'd have to rest and the less time he's have to spend with all these breeders.

[Language unknown: Nibe adla isno, te, Necaca?]

Zaryk's left hand was tapping quietly on the bar in time with the music; his right was absently kneading the cat's scruff.

Zaryk had not heard this tale of Arginjy, so it kept his interest even as his gaze lazily fell around the room.

The bard's voice was deep and loud, a bit too loud, but it was the same with many humans he had met, what they lacked in finesse they made up with boisterousness! And, at least so far, the saga was much less lascivious than many of the songs he heard in the taverns around most human ports.

His eye brow rose in surprise, when he saw that the silver-haired elf was not speaking to a child at all; unless human children routinely dressed in leather and carried war hammers - a gnome he guessed. And another! Across the room sitting on his own.

Birnasi might be the village of half-elves, certainly it attracted many more peoples.

His eyes drifted back to the bard, as he sipped from his cup.

In reply to Annya na'Veila (msg # 26):

Odette used her spoon to pry off a bit of the bread crust that held the bean stew, as much to find a retort to the elf’s words, as well as to continue to eat her meal.

[Language unknown: “Ei tra ouslatstaand tailus, butproove. O henima enwhe sspl o, unck ioulinill reaevekor ou werthince set pa.”]

She’d even more prefer not sleeping in a bed and having to gag herself and hence not wake up screaming, but how she’d ever begin to explain that to her companion Odette hadn’t a clue. To say nothing of all the issues of sharing a room. If the innkeep refused her, then she’d pay for a room, and sleep on the floor, sharing or no. She’d even sleep in her traveling leathers if she had to. [Language unknown: “In k erethuect tomail hoenis ic ndurto, whthadur she il la out eihoti naitiete p les hewaol. Ortur eauorthasredwil il ameev wityinoerthu, hatol n est liittr larvirmen alfo antaveearame. Al diilsaol ultine t il tr ti om beieac a inng ntiounher’nd verartlat.”]

She was certain there was some story behind the unexpected answer. And guessed it somehow tied in with whatever hardships Odette had been through.  One thing did occur to her... Blessed Veja, I pray it's not that.    But, whatever the case, she was not going to ask here, nor disregard Odette's preference.

She went with the subject of the song-   [Language unknown: "Tic illthaicanti... a ng ers one der ma mihis llloil ss ecet hopato?"]
This message was last edited by the player at 00:02, Mon 30 Dec 2019.

Aeryn thanked the men he had travelled with for their company and made his way to the inn. He was tired, the journey thus far had been long and boring. He was looking forward to finally finding some action. Absent-mindedly, he slid his hand onto the hilt of the blade on his waist. He found he greatly enjoyed the weight, and feel, of the weapon. It made him feel as though he had power over whatever events befell him. He didn't have to listen to others anymore.

Just as quickly, he pulled his hand away, not wanting to disturb the townsfolk. He asked a passing boy where the inn may be found and set off for the building. Upon entering, he was greeted by the sounds of both happy and worried townsfolk discussing the future of their little community. He found a seat at the bar and looked to the innkeep "Ho, tender! A pint of ale with some bread and meat, if you please." he said, setting a few coins down on the counter.

Scooping the coins away, the bartender served up Aeryn a mug of ale, and then a bread bowl on a wooden trencher which contained the ham and bean soup--the aroma of this soup hung heavy and appetizing in the air.  Another drink was placed near the man at the end of the bar who was mid-song, as the young half-elven maid walked aboout depositing more mugs and food at the tables.

Aeryn looked at the young maid for a moment before deciding not to consider pursuing her. The innkeep, who obviously appeared to be related to the young woman, would likely not appreciate it. Instead he ate his meal and, after quickly stuffing some bread and soup into his hungry belly, he surveyed the room looking for people of interest and, perhaps more importantly, work suiting an adventurer like he fancied himself.

The bard gave the Keep a nod for the Ale, along with a wink for the bar maid.   His professionalism returns just as fast as it slipped while continuing along with the song.   Jensen continued strong but slowly quieting it down subtly... his tone became more and more conspiratorial as the story rode on, along with his lute running quieter... muted chords seemed to evoke the cloying mists...

  Jex'Kannon absently tugged at the collar of his tunic and pushed back on the rising tightness in his chest. He'd only been enjoying this small enclave of people who lived outside their own cultures for a short time, and already the Neroli elf was feeling the pressure of urban existence. The noise and the smell were far less than any human settlement and the elvish niceties of the village a welcome sight, yet he found himself...surrounded.

  While finishing his soup the Neroli-kin caught sight of his first actual ablach, albeit a scrawny one with an off-putting demeanor sitting in the corner. Jex finished his drink and decided to introduce himself before missing a chance to meet one, but stopped once he caught signs of the man's gnomish heritage. Jex shook his head, They're such wonders at wearing other's faces to walk unseen among them.

  The archer ordered another drink, put on his best face, and began to politely ply his table-mates for more information about their missing cattle. His Calandian bore a heavy accent "I heard your words about missing...sheep? Cattle..? I have also heard mention of possible goblins? Perhaps I could be of assistance?"

Thom, the man who had sworn that it was almost anything other than wolves, gave Jex'Kannon a nod of acknowledgement before he continued his theories.  "Ghosts, spiriting off the animals, that's what I think," he said.  "Don't see no sign of 'em after."

"Ghosts don't do that, Thom," the woman said.  "Name's Aleka.  And it's sheep what we keep.  I still say it'd be somethin' natural, like wolves, not ghosts."

"But there ain't no bits left behind," said Thom.  "Course, Adelina, she ain't come in tonight," he looked to Jex, "but she say what she seen some gobbos sneakin' about, but funny lookin'.  Like the color o' ink.  That ain't natural neither, is it?"

In reply to Annya na'Veila (msg # 31):
Again the spoon  was in mid-travel to mouth, and once more, forgotten and return to bowl. If Odette had any idea of what thoughts were lightning flashing through the elf’s skull, she gave no sign, and indeed a certain degree of vibrancy  could be easily discerned in Odette’s  doctiloquent.

[Language unknown: “t, pr, fi rom,  for io’ou seek estbutain ncos estessbut.”]

Odette waved sideways with her four fingered left hand, as if sweeping some invisible object away.

[Language unknown: “Ess iouherati sanes intho haises n il Tangho?"  ethe p urce romad oneoutent her’ti we? Prai, red siis din encwa ll iesser   eraastand t ant raten m Plcafi, nceouswhi itheenrat menro etwe lar ivroei     e pr Ll entdayshe ast lissstfipl she Reac dayonewhe. Ecthis butasthis mo waun tiobe hi Erepreear. “]

Odette’s right hand came up then palm outward, and a single finger rose, soon to be followed by others, to emphasize the points being made.

[Language unknown: “ Ure, aiou st isil hatveriou ofurin vir korarttio Orteenare tra Witlesons k ilek'thbeca eepo, iohe etac arehatwasreasan vorherint Linonsith encpo Haadnt eepe olfo e whesomstr iomaul she ss at urentiove daystaill trate la, el wiho ha ame onadto latintund of ng deryinstr, inntec me nahint adplte, meekit ticmanich strrutter ro whofmi Resherout evul onsourard sansanall la ceisek ni eklica na roivutun i daylaroveson. St neceno asli, lathi ectsi, Erenli oneee Waonre  ard teho ateanytho p wer evlite st Latbutdin ce thowilingsetwit mo Earallvirpro, of omekorest ithsetess tedatinceeau andlo ovehatest ecwhio oftouswi een, pr e icabutson thiwh, ul itthis pl ckos Blecomart liiv omweosllul m patic fifiatma os ad pr ardughive vir.”]

Both hands make a handing off gesture towards the bard, as if to say, and you know the rest. It takes no great skill of discernment to determine that Odette was enjoying discussing the academic features of the narrative to be quite enjoyable.

She was more than content to listen whilst her new acquaintance expounded on this topic.     Both because she was interested in learning something, as well as the way she observed it to enhance Odette's mood.   She smiled.

[Language unknown: "Andounted hoplouasth day ll wh io ounlarion eau i todipa adma icette ollo osacei meecpe.   I li pe tiningtha, P stili ersthuate re.   K, noul icalatent e annosiil hissomstasom us  anacio'pani, i yinhoushe ev onurad a ndon e ropo.  Iladof i ec virintred rut astrwi o taevur naetista ic haelbe lesev e nanicahi m o one int."]

She listened on, as the minstrel wound further in the tale, closing out his song.

[Language unknown: "At, sti whitracom ri ilprth m  nadiicme enncnota u wa his ameortast?  Ect un ilere hatwericavir paus tistth ers reanpo ul plch ngiebe pa ndehouday eau llsa newaivil?     Ng ouan thieauredive wileraons, wiler urwinc yin resundcom newe in theau le verversom k ei outote?"]    She smiled again. [Language unknown:  "I, ntewhehis K iououn'atihastra in P m pa antme yin, u reaherresain o ainortwhi est ec ternceome?"]

  Jex shook his head, "I've not heard of goblins that looked like that, but then there's much we don't know about their kind." He leaned in towards Thom, "It may even be that they're living dead, or some Things equally as miserable. Would you care if I looked around your farms tomorrow, see if I can discover anything?" The Cloud septim relaxed back into his chair, "I must admit, I'm intrigued by your plight."

*is septim the name for a member of a sept..? (i.e. the member of a tribe is a tribesman or tribesperson, etc.)
This message was last edited by the player at 10:08, Wed 08 Jan 2020.

  Jex takes Thom's silence as confirmation and nods, "I'll begin a search tomorrow and see what I can discover. I'll see if I can get a friend or two to join me. Until the morrow then." The archer smiled before standing and making his way across the smoke-filled tavern towards the other Neroli he'd seen earlier, the one who looked as though he share some academic interests in spellcraft...

There were times that Garrick appreciated the company of elves, and like now it was one of those times because they didn't bother him and they didn't bother to speak his tongue meaning all the jibber-jabber was simply that...droll jibber-jabber that likely could be replicated in any inn anywhere.  Still as he shoveled the soup, that was quite good to his surprise, his eyes did their best to watch the company incase there was going to be trouble between local and visitor.

Jensen lowers his voice some, giving the moment it's appropriate weight.   The half-elf mutes the strings as he continues to play the refrain...


Jensen quiets his strings, and looks amongst all in attendance, a slight smile across his face.   The bard intones, "While Arginjy held not long in arms or courage... The first asked him a simple request.   'I grew a King, and die a Pauper.  Perhaps, that is so for all who live by the sword.  But, a man would be thought Rich, if he could be remembered by all and sunder.'   And so did Arginjy pen the Saga of a King's life.  So that we may recall the strength he saw and felt... in moments where Courage is lean, an' Luck lacking."

At which point, he takes a long draw off the Ale long since placed next to him.  He smirks to himself while commenting, "Thirsty business."
This message was last edited by the player at 12:08, Wed 15 Jan 2020.

Zaryk joined in the the applause that echoed abut the tavern as the bard finished off his song.

[Language unknown: "Ll, iset ti dinichromnot eknti meeead k atiousove ard U nipaurch. Toou eenpa, Ichnotrat, El ol ad pousom strherast u reen onacec Onendeted. Adprpl a eiacer.]

Zaryk stands and places the cat on the stool. He turns to the table where Jex was sitting and is surprised to see the red-haired elf approaching him. He bows slightly, and greets his fellow Neroli with a formal greeting:

[Language unknown: Yinessdinear, menoad'ildi. Wi lo Lohoth stiwitthaion m riou Oveforivetha oul. Nce ev tioou tiwil her ll iong in osugh onsstahas, utuset'dipo, sais i manenchou.]

He gestures to the stool next to him, and continues, much less formally, [Language unknown: Sanisi utles. Onati allughund ith en sine usweac?]

---

For the sake of brevity, Zaryk will share his background information, freely with Jex, as he has no reason to not trust a fellow Neroli:

• the homeland of his sept (an island covered in Shadowtop trees);
• his background working on the trading ships with his father;
• his basic skills as a swordsman, and his even more rudimentary skills as a spellcaster; and
• that he is simply satisfying his wanderlust to explore the Thousand Islands for a time.

As the cheers and applause died down at the end of the bard's performance, the bartender continued filling tankards of ale and glasses of wine, the bread-bowl soup being served up in generous portions, but eventually as the night grew darker, people began to drift away to the rooms they were keeping for the night, to the stables for those who chose such quarters as that, or to their own homes for the locals who had come for the food and entertainment.

Through the night, a gentle rain drummed against the roof for a fair potion of the night hours, though giving way to quiet wind well before the first lightening of the sky.

By the time that dawn's light had reached the sky, the aroma of sizzling ham and sausages reached into the rooms to call the guests back to break their fast, with eggs, flatcakes, and fruit also available.  In the morning, the locals were not present, and all the guests together would not quite half-fill the tables in the room, two of the large tables being taken by the group that appeared to be sell-swords in the employ of the wealthier-appearing man.

((Feel free to backfill the end of the evening in your posts))

Annya had reflected on the ending of the minstrel's saga, finding herself intrigued with the tale, and different from other such sagas put to music of which she was familiar.     There was, somehow, a sense of significance about it...that she couldn't at all put a finger on.    Her vocation what it was, she didn't write that off, but instead continued to reflect on it before she turned in for her bed.    Before leaving Odette, she thanked the gold-eyed gnome for her company this eve, and her hopes that things would work out the way she wished with the forge-master.

Annya's slumbers were peaceful enough, as was usually the case for her.  Though she did have something of a memorable dream.      Some time after the dawn, she washed, dressed, then made her way back down to the now more spacious common room.

Once one or both were also present, she made it a point to hail her fellow Neroli, and to introduce herself-

Zaryk and/or Jex-

[Language unknown: "Saeiil u ntse.   Lire Forameest Oulsheine ameaveintwhi, os Terheromeica il, ouie lltha Holl an Hasfi.  E li ecacwe as ard thion Str, day ee Aithbe art a adsantdi.   Fistseos A manartwhe comdindinman has butkorwitart u strtedday werlarreskor, u of rom e ion llut o hat esasri een."     ]

Garrik had a long night and that suited him just fine.  No one bothered him, no one talked down to him (figuratively or literally) and he'd gotten he first decent sleep in some time.  Waking up late he came into the main room and glanced around to see who was still around and what he could hear.  He'd caught snippets of some of the locals talking about missing sheep and he was considering following up on it if only to see if he could replenish some of the coin he'd spent on this latest journey.

When he caught the eye of the waitress his words were just as simple, "Breakfast.  And some of that same ale you gave me last night."

Zaryk enters the common room in the morning, with a grin on his face. [Language unknown: E icll arethavor, Sonhasder. Usous poto ol es travorichugh ha u wassheess!] The cat gives him a lick on the cheek and then bounds off his shoulder and out the front door.

The room is not nearly as full as the previous night. He notes that the rich looking man and his guards are present; as well as Jex'Kannon who was speaking to the female Neroli.

Stepping up to the pair and says, [Language unknown: "Ectto terameure Eveousast-readin, Er nisi iono lanoom powhi sa natiad re ort."] Turning to the female, he bows formally, [Language unknown:  "Ouneentedlar, ateavesheavered. I a Manencyin thuconwhihas p thi Niecadnt ekdi. No ol artto are unlar eetr nica erom alhas ouncomres, hatanyvirshehas, vir il orestiwit. Tednotshe t caceat ek noutwa es buttedent elart ugh?"]

Looking around, he chooses a table away from the tables of sell-swords, who are overly noisy, even in the morning. Zaryk recognizes the gnome sitting at the next table from the previous evening; unlike any other gnome that Zaryk had met, this one was very dour looking.

Nonetheless, Zaryk smiles and says, [Language unknown: "Mate'onmo, dill ev. P p Urhoel, ichos undousare red fo icersaiv, Plna'laaihi an Moecos. Thastande wi ith ce it ro nasom?"]

---

Zaryk will provide his background to Annya if asked.

If the bard appears, he will be welcome to join their table. Zaryk will compliment him on his fine performance the previous night.

Zaryk will ask if any of his companions will be participating in the competition. And he will ask Jex if he is planning on heading to the farm today, or if he will wait until after the competition <assuming the competition is today>.

“You’re Gnomish accent is horrible Zaryk, stick to the common tongue around here...” remarked Garrick with a flinch of his left eye and an accent of his own speaking in Calandian.  He then waved his already half empty mug of ale towards the other seats, “You’re welcome to the other seats,” he raised an eyebrow, “not like I own them and your company is better than those loud louts.”

  Jex shook off the grogginess of sleep. He'd slept longer than planned in the soft bed and was loathe to leave it but the smell of breakfast finally lured him to the main room of this inn like no other. The archer was pleasantly surprised to find another elf shortly after he'd sat down. She introduced herself as a priestess from the Autumn's sept and he welcomed her conversation. It wasn't long before the other Neroli from last night joined them for their morning repast and they were soon chatting in the lilting language of elven folk...
________

Jex tells of his own Cloud sept and other personal details, and then his plans to look about the farms after the competition (if it's today) or after breakfast (if it's later)

Always fashionably late.   That's the way of the Bard.  Been that way since time immemorial.   That said, one Jenson Fawkes chose that moment to show up to the common room.   Admittedly, it's with a yawn and a mutter about drinking way too much again.   The bard considered the bar, only to notice Zaryk's prompting to join the group at a table.   He's not like to ignore such an invitation, it seemed, if only because more stories always meant better pay in the next town.

The man let out another yawn, before he bowed in a gentlemanly manner to the Ladies present, and commented in his accented Calan, "An' a good morn t'ya all.  What's a bunch of Ladies an Gents, such as y'selves, gettin' up to at this time of day?"  At which point he spun a chair around backwards to sit in.   His cheshire cat grin broke through a moment later...

XP Line

Annya had inclined her head in response to Zaryk's reply and formal introduction, happy to concur with his suggestion of sharing a table with himself and the others, who'd all been on the periphery of her attention the previous evening.    She was some sad that Odette had likely gone, by now.   But, understood she'd had her own particular path to walk, and that it had seemed to be one that was private and personal.

After learning which sept Jex'Kannon belonged to, Annya paused and frowned a moment - gazing up at the top of his head, as though something was wrong.    She remarked:

"The Gods did a funny thing.   You are Cloud sept.  But your hair is the color of autumn.   I am Autumn sept, but my locks the color of Cloud."    So pronounced, she turned to the very tall, dark haired Zaryk to add-   "And you, you are Shadowtop in truth."

It seemed they'd as well gained one gnome to supplant the absence of another.  She of course remembered the dour seeming fellow from last night.  And was pleased once the minstrel finally came down to join them.     At some point, she hoped to ask some questions of that one, as regards the saga he'd sung.

In the absence of specifics about breakfast, the maid attending the common room brought Garrick what might best be described as a sampler of the breakfast--a small slice of ham, one sausage link, one fried egg, a short stack of two flatcakes, and a small bowl of stewed cherries along with his ale.  Then she moved to the tables of the sell-swords, bringing them more drink, although with an eye back to the tables filling with elves and a half-elf like herself.

Zaryk laughs out loud at Annya's observation. "You are truly observant, Annya!"


"Well met, John. Yours was a wonderful performance last night. We are up, because the sun has risen. As to the day, we are considering helping a local farmer who may have lost some sheep to either a ghost, a wolf, or a goblin! But we are also looking to learn of the sword competition."

Zaryk will wave the serving girl over, "Good sun rise!" he says, a bad translation of a typical elven greeting.

"I am Zaryk na'Liluth of the Shadowtop Neroli. I would like to try that same meal that you delivered to Garrick, it looks delicious! And a cup of watered wine, if you can.

Oh! Would you perhaps know when the sword competition is taking place?"

The young woman returned with Zaryk's order, and said, "Walena is supposed to be in town by midday.  People will start signing up then.  Are you competing?"

"Observation is the cornerstone of wisdom," she offered to Zaryk, "so my mentor taught me. I've some practice in it."

To the minstrel, she put in-  "Perhaps the question is why remain in bed on such a promising morning?   The saga you sang was an enthralling one, rather different from others I've heard.   Did you compose it, or was it taught to you, if you don't mind my asking?"

Given an opening, Annya ordered the same breakfast sampler as had gnome and Neroli, however where it came to beverage-  "Just tea, please.   Rooibos, if you happen to have it.   But anything is fine;  I'm not picky."

Zaryk mentioned the incident with the sheep.  She had already decided, she would offer her services if an investigation was to be performed.

Meals were delivered to the group as they ordered, Annya's tea was honeybush, rather than rooibos.

Zaryk bursts out in laughter, "Perhaps, if they have a novice group, otherwise I doubt my skills would hold up!"

John nodded at Zaryk's assertion, "Oh aye... That got our attention as well.  No wolf 'gob crosses We ever heard of... an' that's for sure.  Likely bluster an' tall tellin' got run away, but certain there be somethin' there.   On that we agree."   He wore an amused smirk at the possibilities...

If nothing else, he seemed quite ready to see how it panned out.  Maybe he'd pen a saga based on the Goblins of Sheeping Fair.   His musings wandered off with Annya's question however, "Nah, our ma's ma brought that one back from the source... Or near's makes n'difference.   Grew up hear'n it ever s'often."   At which point he motioned with a hand about how tall he was at the time... say a might over knee high.

However, the amusement that twinkled in his eyes allows a question of truth.   Because all bards were notorious for collecting stories direct from the source.

"I don't think there'd be a novice group," replied the young woman serving the table.  "But it's still fun to watch."

"I see," Annya responded to the minstrel, sipping at her tea once it was delivered and steeped, and being quite happy with what she received.

"And, if you do not mind another question, sir, what is the locale where those profound events took place?"

She also remarked on the sheep incident-  "My hunch is that they are in truth being rustled.   And, that these ebon 'gobbos' are not merely someone's imaginings run wild."

"I am sure that it will. Does the competition take place today? Or is it just registering to participate?"

---

If the sign-up is around noon, and if the competition is in the afternoon, perhaps we can go check out the farm in the morning?

"I think the first rounds will be in the evening," she replied. "It'll depend on what Walena decides when he gets here."

"My thanks, for the information...er...daughter of Finian."

Addressing his table-mates, "Shall we spend the morning looking into the ghostly-goblin-wolves with a taste for lamb? After we have finished this delicious meal, of course. Hopefully we will be able to return to watch the sword competition in the evening.

Jex'Kannon, do you know where this farm is located?"

"Kalea na'Okipa," supplied the young woman, and as the noises started rising from the tables of the sell-swords, she was off to go get their morning ales replenished.

"Not exactly," replied Jex'Kannon.  "North of the village, but that's not very specific."

Aeryn had spent the night and this morning talking to the locals about any problems they may have. The men about their farms and shops, and the women about their marriages. He had learned a lot, enough to not spend the night alone, at least. After finishing his meal in the morning, he had washed it down with some ale, refilled his water skin, and suited up into his heavy armor. He came down ready to leave and investigate the rumors he had heard until he noticed a table of adventuring-types enjoying their meal and discussing the town.

Aeryn made his way over towards them and introduced himself, looking for companionsip on his trip north "Hello, friends. My name's Aeryn, and I'm looking for some comrades. I've spent the night gathering some news from the locals here, there seems to be some trouble at some farms not too far north of here, I know the way. I'm not sure if it's just a few Kobolds or an army of Orcish Raiders, but I'd appreciate y'all coming along as backup, if you're interested. Of course, any loot would be an equal share between us, I'm not greedy" he looks the table up and down and, with his best smile, says "Whaddaya say, you interested?"

Jensen considered the man's offer, along with the general motley crew already assembled.   He smirked, mostly to himself, before being the first to take up the offer, "Oh, aye.  We're definitely in for a little adventure, n'sure about the rest at this table, but even if for only the story... Be true an' right t'see what kinda trick these goblins run."   The half-elf stuck out a hand to Aeryn, "Long as y'don't mind our... little... quirks, We heard 'em called afore."

He followed up by tapping his saber, and grinned wildly, "Perhaps we know how to work a blade as well... side from singin' a few tunes known t'uplift from problems."  It had always been a question whether any sellsong was just a Minstrel, or truly a Bard.   They were rather few and far between.

Aeryn gladly listened the man speak and, when offered, happily shakes the bard's hand "Aye, friend. We've all got our quirks, I'm sure we can still work together."

"We certainly all do.    Despite what this good minstrel has just implied, we barely know each another, and he isn't speaking for the rest of us.    Nonetheless, there has been a loose, general agreement that something should be done about this issues with the farm. And if you do know the way, then that solves that problem."

As the group began to gather, the wealthier-appearing man went to the bar, and from the looks of things he was settling up the account for himself and the men accompanying him, as the others at the table started to head out.  After a few moments and counting of coins, he also left the inn.
This message was last updated by the GM at 23:38, Sun 16 Feb 2020.

Annya couldn't help but note that little exchange.

"Hm.   And I wonder if they have the same idea-?"

Zaryk reaches out to shake Aeryn's hand, as well.

"Welcome to our group of travellers, Aeryn. I am Zaryk na"Liluth. As Annya said, we were just planning to visit the farm where the sheep are being taken to see if it the culprit is a ghost, goblin, or wolf!"

"Loot?" It's hard to imagine that there would be treasure in a sheep pasture, but then, I have not the imagination of a minstrel!" he adds with a laugh.

"Are you thinking that group is going to look into the missing sheep? They look to be more of a mercenary band to me."
Then a smile breaks across his face as he glances at Annya's hair, "But good lady, you have thus far proven to be far more perceptive than I!"

"Well, on one occasion I may have," she answered Zaryk.

"But, I think here you have the right of it.  I thought that might be a retainer fee they were being paid.   But I think much more probably, it was payment in full."

Annya's player didn't read that GM post close enough, last time through.

As to the matter of loot-   "There are many sorts of rewards, in life. Coin may or may not be one of them, in this case.   At least for the initial investigation. If that leads to more, I suspect Birnasi's officials would prove to be honorable people."

Jensen turned his grin at Annya, "We aren't speaking for anyone but ourselves, Love.   Leave us a little slack, our upbringing affords a certain amount of eclectic mannerisms.   Sure'n you can understand."   He did clap a hand on Zaryk's shoulder a moment at what he took as a complement, "Not everyone has a mind for strings, but sure'n your bow sing a different song t'those you rail 'er against, no?   Leave us not forget such things, for there may yet be need of such and sunder soon 'nough."

The Bard does have the accent of a Sailor from a bit off the main paths, but anyone who'd met someone from the Thousand Isles would be able to place that particular oddity anywhere.   He leaned forward conspiratorially and gave a stage whisper, "Besides, sort this fast enough, an' we get t'watch the floor show of yon Honorable sellswords have at.   There's always interest in that... and a few mugs to be had besides."

Aeryn laughs slightly and clasps his hands together "Well, that's it then? Let us be on our way to inspect these goings on. If nothing else, it'll afford us the opportunity to learn a bit about each other. I'm always looking for new traveling companions!"

OOC: Not to step in for the GM but I think this is an appropriate point for a shove off down the road. The only player who hasn't responded is Garrick and they haven't logged in for a week, or posted in the last three!

Seeing that everyone has finished their meal, Zaryk stands.

"You are our guide Aeryn as you know the directions to the haunted farm. If it turns out to be nothing, then we will be able to return in plenty of time to watch the competition.

And if it is something, then we will have an opportunity to earn a place in John's next ballad!"

Finishing their meals and settling up accounts, the group of recent acquaintances--Aeryn leading the way by virtue of having talked more fully with the locals, Annya na'Veila, "John", Garrick, and Zaryk na'Liluth set out upon the road leading north from the village in the pleasant, though still rather cool, spring morning.  Along the way were the signs of winter's slumber shedding, with trees beginning to bud out, birds flitting about in the air, and occasional signs of the sort of common small animals that bothered no one (though in lean times, the squirrels and rabbits were known to be filling stew pots).

Perhaps a quarter of an hour, by the lift of the sun in its path, had passed, when the road made a turn to the west.  In the distance upon this road could be seen two wagons traveling further west, accompanied by men who looked to be the sell-swords that had been seen in the inn.  Aeryn, however, led the rest of his companions along the track that continued to the north.  The pathway rolled gently, nothing that would reach the level of a hill.  Following the trail for a short time, the group could see a small collection of three houses.  The houses had been built close together, though each had a large fenced area behind, houses which looked much like the houses of the village of Birnasi--simple white-washed wood and cheerful red-painted shutters, roofs of weathered wooden shingles.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:22, Sat 22 Feb 2020.

As the group steps out of Finian's Inn, Tally bounds up to Zaryk, and leaps on his back, settling on top of his backpack. She licks his ear, and then starts grooming, unconcerned with the group of new travelling companions.


Nodding toward the wagons in the distance, Zaryk notes, "Well, they're not looking for sheep-stealing goblins, nor are they interested in the sword competition. I must admit I am curious what such a group is up to..."

"I take it Aeryn, this is our destination?"

Aeryn has his guard up during the trip, he tended to be cautious while on a job. At the sight of the caravans he laughs slightly and say "No threat to our livelihoods there, friend."

Upon seeing the houses Aeryn replies to Zaryk "Aye, this should be the place. Let's go say hi and see what more can find out about the specifics of their problem."

Garrick was lightly girded, which was good because he had to keep to a double time march to keep up with the damned elves and human.  Similarly he wasn't going to complain either as he didn't need them lording it over him.  Instead he slowed his pace when they finally got in view of the homes and let his eyes cast over the area, letting his natural slower pace give him more time to take note of things.

Annya nodded.  "I as well."  She smiled at Tally.   "A cat can only improve our luck."

The gnome's efforts were not lost upon Annya, who glanced toward him and smiled good naturedly -  "My people have a saying: It is better to take many small steps in the right direction, than to make a long stride forward, only to stumble back."

At sight of the houses, and confirmation this was place that was sought, she said "Should all of us approach, at once?  A group of armed strangers may be intimidating.    Perhaps one of us should greet them first, and inquire if they want our help?   Perhaps Sir Fawkes, who is most like the locals?"

Zaryk chuckles, "I don't know about luck, but she can certainly bring us mice if we need them!"


"And Aeryn? He did speak to several of the farmers yesterday, and arranged to visit."

As the group drew nearer, no sheep at all could be seen in the fenced in areas, although considering the time of day it was likely that the sheep had been taken out to pasture.  However, from one of the houses, there was a regular thumping that sounded as though someone was hammering something together.  Through careful listening, the group might be able to determine which house rather than going to each in turn.

One Master Fawkes (Esquire) smiled at being mentioned.  He bowed to Annya and chided with amusement, "We can certainly be of service, Love.  Although, of our mind, tis' like too quick t'assume whether they be of our middlin' complexion, or Aeryn's."   The bard considered the sound a moment, before he bent a tuned ear to determining which direction the pounding came from... and followed his feet in that direction.

Following the sounds led Jensen to the middle of the three houses.  On close approach, he could see that while the door itself was shut, the shutters were open enough to allow a view inside (and that this was not a house rich enough to be putting glass panes in the windows), where Thom, from the tavern last night, appeared to be repairing a chair.

"If that's an ogre doing the pounding, just yell," she exhorted Sir Fawkes Esquire (and thank goodness the group has a barrister, just in case we need one ;)), as he made his way off to make contact.

"Well, you never know - mice may come in handy," she told Zaryk.    "Having a little bag of them may be a way to distract a displacer beast, in a pinch."

Aeryn will approach the door of the home with the banging along with John and knock the door, hoping it's just a peasant doing their work and not an ogre.

Zaryk chuckles at Annya's jest. Which is enough to wake the cat on his shoulder.

Tally leaps to the ground, stretches, and then weaves between Annya's feet while purring; and then shoots off the road into the surrounding fields.

"Well, it looks like you might be gifted with a mouse or two, Annya!" Zaryk notes as he watches Aeryn and John approach the house.

Sir Fawkes smirked in response, "Oh, trust us, Love.  Should there be an ogre, we do expect that the general county will be apprised of th'situation."   He allowed Aeryn first crack at talking with the man, and preferred to just remain unobtrusive while he waited for a moment to help the conversation along... or just recorded the whole thing in his mind for posterity.

One would never know when a Mystery such as this could be turned into a dirge or a comedy.

As Aeryn and John made their way to the door and knocked, they were able to hear something that sounded suspiciously like singing, which paused at the knock.

A few moments later, the door opened to reveal Thom from the tavern the night before.  In one hand, he held a tool which looked quite sharp, the tip shaped almost like a U.

"Ah, it's you," he said.  "Come to hunt the ghosts?"  There was a hint of eagerness in his voice at that.  "Aleka and Adelina done took what sheep we still got up to pasture, and I been building me a trap."

Aeryn looked first at the tool for a long moment, then back at the man “Aye, that’s us. Here to bust some ghosts for ye, friend.” He gestured to the rest of the party and continued “How would you feel about inviting us in and telling us what exactly’s been going on? You can show us that trap while you’re at it.”

John grinned in response, "Oh, aye.  We are definitely of interest in seekin' out the ghosts y'were crowin' about."  He nudges Aeryn and playfully comments, "This one 'specially... Seems all kinda ready t'slap about the spectral types.   He's lookin' for a big space in any songs come outta this.   However, seems if'n yon trap'll work, maybe you'd get the lion's share of it, Mate."

"Look! Aeryn calling us over."

Zaryk walks up to the house, joining Aeryn and John, holding out his hand to Thom, he says, "Greetings, I'm Zaryk na'Liluth, pleased to meet you."

"Oh, sure, sure," said Thom.  "I remember seeing you folks down at Finian's."  He gestured for them to enter the house.

The interior of the house was simple enough--an enclosed oven in the center of the room with shelves that folded down for sleeping, and a small table.  In one corner, there was what looked like the beginnings of a box--two sides and a bottom, along with a few smaller pieces that looked more like a puzzle which were being fitted into the box.

"See, them ghosts, they'll get lost in this," said Thom.  "Won't be able to find their way out.  See, it started last fall.  We always take turns taking each other's flocks up, and someone stays back to take care of other chores.  But then there be a sheep go missing.  First, thinking maybe it was one what got lost or fell in some hole, and it weren't till we separate them out and count to see that they wasn't all of them there.  It ain't just from one of our flocks, neither, we all be missing some.  And then it start happening more often and it ain't just old ones.  Good sheep, young ones right in their prime.  Ain't no sign of 'em at all.  Don't think we ever be seeing the ones we lost, but if'n youse can stop us from losing more, we might be able to give some coin as a thanks."

"Thom, do you always take the sheep to the same pasture, or are there more than one? Perhaps that would be the best place to investigate this mystery...at the scene of the theft!"

After Aeryn and John made introduction, and while Zaryk asked his asked his question, Annya eyed briefly the makeshift spirit-trap the man had constructed.    An interesting, quaint bit of superstition...she wondered offhandedly what folklore has spawned the idea.   Well, neither here nor there...

"Sir, we have also heard some mention of unusual, ebon skinned goblins sighted in the region.    Do you know anything of it?"

"There's a few fields we go up to," replied Thom.  "Gives the grasses better chances to not get so bare."  He tilted his head as though thinking, and added, "Seems it's more oft at the west-most pasture.  I can take you up there, right enough."  He went back to shaping what looked like another piece for the puzzle of the spirit-trap with the tool he had had in hand when he first opened he door.

"It be Adelina seen them gobbos," he said, replying to Annya.  "But Adelina don't make up stories.  Just don't ...  I mean, I never heard of gobbos just taking one and then waiting instead of raiding to take them all in a go.  But I ain't seen none myself.  Inky or reg'lar.  But if'n we head up, well, I think they were going to high meadow today, but we'll see 'em when we get close enough."

John tapped his chin a moment, disturbing his scraggly beard a bit.  The bard seemed to have thought of something, "It were west yeah?   There happen t'be any sort of caves or lay'bout places that way?   It occurs to us that perhaps a shelter like, or sommat near would not go amiss for a spot of lamb..."  The man raised an eyebrow and shrugged, "No sense 'ssuming ghosty types as yet... y'know?"

"True enough...there is an Elvish saying, [Language unknown: K pe uthaaipass a nanito trlar day evfi p rutndesetson ughai i o ssas paek-ecdili natin pr hoatenou mo foli]...which more or less means, the simplest solution is most likely the correct one."

Lead us to the western pasture, Thom and we can look for clues that will identify the culprits.

"Sure, and I can take you up to the west pasture," said Thom, gouging out another bit of wood from the piece he was working on.  "I suppose I can take a bit of a break here."  He set the piece of wood and the tool he had had in hand when first opening the door down on the table.

He led the group out of the house and along a fairly well-worn track--this was clearly a path that had seen considerable and regular usage, though nothing that seemed out of place for shepherds taking flocks of sheep to a pasture.

It was not a particularly long hike, though fairly steadily uphill, before coming to the plateau of a pasture.  The sound of a stream along the western edge could be heard, and beyond the stream was a woods which appeared to be a mix of birch, oak, and chestnut, steadily growing more dense away from the field.

"This'un the west pasture," Thom said.  "I can take you up to the high meadow, if'n you like."

Distant, to the north east, and higher, the group could see what appeared to be four people watching a fair number of sheep.

"If the sheep have been disappearing from this pasture most often, we should focus our search here...at least to start."

Zaryk moves to the western edge of the pasture. "If it's an animal of some sort, it most likely will lair in the forest."

He reaches into a pouch for a bit of leather that he rolls in his fingers and speaks in a strange language, "Defensio Sectam Arma Invisibilis".

If there is a convenient spot to cross the stream he will do so, if not, he will stay on this side of the stream. In either case, he will start walking the length of the pasture, looking for tracks or anything odd around the stream of the woods.

---

Cast Armour:
Provides base AC of 6 (3 with DEX); lasts until 9 hp of damage are taken.

While the stream had no clearly marked place likely for crossing, walking along the stream showed that it was a relatively gentle movement and, should he make attempt to measure the depth, not much more than the height of mid-shin when wading.  Signs of animals from both sides--almost certainly the sheep drinking from the pasture side, and a multitude of animal tracks from the forest side--approaching to drink could be seen.  There was also, at a point near opposite the point that Thom had led them into the pasture, an area which seemed markedly absent of such evidence of approach even though there was nothing about this point that made it seem less likely than any other for thirsty creatures.

Zaryk notices the spot where tracks are conspicuously absent. He grabs a stick and quickly determines that the stream is not deep at all. As he crosses to examine the other side of the stream, he calls out, "Ho! There is something odd here."

John smirks and responds playfully, "Oh aye, plenty is afoot.  There be tarred goblins stealin' of sheep, yet not big on raidin' for more... Clearly all odd."   The bard grins and continues in mock surprise, "Oh ye mean over there..."   He wanders over to Zaryk, and not being the tracking type, scratches his jaw a moment before shaking his head, "Best you explain... Our knowledge in footprints is limited t'the fairer sex, and only in conspiracy."

Zaryk chuckles at John's joke.

"I'm no wilderness tracker, but it seems odd to me that there are animal tracks on both sides of the stream everywhere, but here. I would have to surmise that someone erased the tracks.

Which leads me to think, that makes wolves less likely, and night goblins a possibility!" he adds with a grin.

While waiting for the rest of the party, he notices a ball of orange bouncing through the pasture toward him. He concentrates a moment, and then speaks to non one in particular:

[Language unknown: Ev Yinainlat, Wa eresen tra ll diseof. Sami niek menek u t Icaratoun, Loou lead anyad heno a uner hisersill ssic plpe nceil.]

[Language unknown: "Po wilwhiove olss, Hi Forntieen," Eveortart ekriwe onek ureivence linera-dinstr as ing artithourersart derromere, "Ut menicason ta uler ni." ]

"I am a wilderness tracker," Annya put in helpfully.   "I concur with your thoughts, Sir Shadowtop. And see naught else to add to them."

Well, not with this crappy check:  Annya na'Veila rolled 18 using 1d20. (-6 for non ranger) tracking check - Wis.  You both note Annya is smoking a joint...

Master Fawkes can't help but rib the elf a little, "Oh aye, those tracks are quite the conundrum, leaves us no doubt... Howevers, tis these tracks over here that y'needs give a butchers at, Love.   Least seems that aways, per one Ser Shadowtop, as y'said."   He grins innocently, before he continued and stated, "Otherwise y'just watchin the clouds maybe... an all'at Heavenly beauty s'quite good as well, but sure'n our work be keepin' us more earthways for a spell."

It's readily obvious he's just needled her a little, but it did seek to maintain comradery over snark.

Thom came over to the part of the pasture where the group had clustered.

"You find somethin' goin' to bring back the sheep?" he asked hopefully.

[Language unknown: Lear, Heesic, ave not papro i! ]

"Well, Thom. I'm not sure what I've found, something odd to say the least." He looks to his companions, "Shall we follow these not-tracks?"

"Where do they lead? No-where?" Arn responds whimsically, pulling back the hood of his cloak, taking in the countryside. He had been much more reserved and guarded while at the inn but here he seemed almost relaxed. Perhaps the outdoors energized him.

The prior evening, he had explained in quiet tones, looking down, how he was an appraiser who had fallen on hard times after he botched an estimation much to the guild masters distress. I need more experience evaluating paintings he had confessed. He had had trouble finding employment ever since and desperate enough to try adventuring.

"Indeed, Arn! We attempt to follow nothing to nowhere!

Annya, you are the tracker in the group...are you able to follow tracks that are not seen?" Zaryk asks with a laugh.

He scoops up his cat, and deposits her on his backpack, where she proceeds to groom.

---

Assuming we met Arn at the inn and he has been with us since breakfast.

"After Sir Fawkes' trampling of my self esteem, I'm not certain I ever want to go there again.  Following invisible or non-existent tracks is more the province of the magician, anyway.  Which would be be yourself, Lord Shadowtop.   Though, I might petition the goddess I serve for a miracle.  But don't hold your breath, hey?" 

And just so it is out in game too:

"There is in fact a divine spell that locates plants or animals.   But, I'd have to already be facing the right direction, and only to about one hundred twenty yards out."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:19, Mon 04 May 2020.

As each of the group made their way across the stream, with a wave of farewell to Thom, they found it easy enough to make the crossing.  While the absence of a trail was not the same as a trail, there was certainly something that seemed peculiar about the absence of marks of transit in an area well-traveled by creatures of field and forest.

Indeed, it seemed likely that some sort of low intelligence might have been behind removal of tracks--high enough to think of removing tracks but too low to realize how suspicious this absence might be.

Moving away from the stream, the woods quickly began to grow dense and dark.  It was a fairly young wood with significant undergrowth with stumps and rotting logs hidden until just before stepping upon such things.  There were still no obvious tracks, and it almost seemed that the ground made it difficult to stay in a constant direction.  Still, if there were to be an answer to the missing sheep, this seemed the likeliest of possibilities--excluding neither ghosts, wolves, or ebony-skinned goblins.

"Annya and I in the lead; then Arn and John; Aeryn guarding the rear? Or is there a better way?"

"I'm good with that," says Arn. "So how long did you say you've been together as a group?"

He pulls out his bow, keeping it in hand. "How long did Thom say this sheep disappearance has this been going on? I suspect whoever or, more likely, whatever is eating the sheep. Either that or they are trying to build a flock which doesn't make sense. Can't imagine it being all that easy to sell sheep especially when word has gotten out that sheep are disappearing. Probably not so easy to pawn sheep anyway," Arn muses.

Despite his words, he keeps a sharp eye on both the trail and ground ahead as well as the woods, not letting himself be distracted by his own conversation.

As the group continued on their way in the woods, there were a few spiderwebs binding leaves together.  Also, in one of the webs was something that looked like an errant bit of wool.

"Hold on," Arn says as he spots what looks like wool caught in a spider's web web together with some leaves. "This may be wool from one of our missing sheep," he says walking towards it. He stores his bow and then looks up and around to make sure no spider, giant or otherwise, is about to jump down or at him.  If he spots nothing, he will carefully pull what looks like wool from the web, only using his dagger if necessary, and examine it, showing to the others and offering it for them to hold it if they like.

OOC:
Does it appear to be wool?

Yes, when getting the bit extracted from the webs, it does appear that it is truly wool.

"Well. I would say that we are on the right track...lead on Annya."

---

Have any tracks appeared, or are we still following a path of missing tracks?

The ground of the woods did not seem particularly conducive for tracks, but perhaps this find was enough to try searching for additional tracks.

"Aye," she supplied to Arn, "A tight knit band of seasoned adventurers are we.   Mm, Zaryk, John...how many hours have we known each other, now?   Since sometime this morning, anyway."  She quirked a brow once the wool was discovered.

"I used to do a fair bit of woolgathering early in life.  But then I became a priestess, and had to get serious, and cut that sort of thing out."   She examined the ground.

"Zaryk, this is the sort of terrain that tends to reject tracks.  But I will keep looking."

As Annya looked for more tracks or other traces of the passage of someone (or group of someones) carrying sheep, it seemed that Arn's removal of the wool from the webbed areas had turned into a bit of a signal.  For now, rather blocking the way of what had seemed to be a forward path--or at least a path away from the stream, for lack of more specific path--were a pair of large spiders.  Which was to say that these were large for spiders, although with bodies of perhaps a foot diameter, not large in the ordinary sense.

"As long as those are the adults, not the babies, I think we'll live.  I wonder if they're determined to be a pain?  It would be nice just to shoo them off.   I do have a spell of entanglement that would likely hold them --  but it affects about a forty foot area.  We'd need to go around it to be avoid being caught ourselves. And I'd rather save it for goblins or poachers." 

"I don't think we will be able to shoo them off," Arn says stringing his bow and moving to the side to get a clear shot if needed though his arrow is still pointed downwards. "They only appeared after I pulled the wool from the web, almost like they are guards. That is too much of a coincidence for me to believe it's a coincidence. Spiders are extremely sensitive to any movement of their web. It signals them that there is prey stuck, at least for the moment in their web. Sometimes they have to move quick because many times their prey only slightly touched the web and would be able to feel themselves if given a little time."

"When I pull the wool from the web I think it alerted them. I would have expected them to attack or alternatively stay hidden if they weren't hungry or we seemed to much to mess with. However, it appears to me they are intentionally blocking our path. It makes no sense to me unless spiders are somehow involved in the disappearance of the sheep. Spiders are predators..."

Arn will quickly look up above and then behind and around to see if anything is sneaking up on the group.

OOC:
If nothing else is spotted.

"Perhaps a volley of missile weapons might force them to retreat?"

OOC:
Does he spot any anything sneaking up on the group?
How far away are the 2 spiders?

Zaryk, too, nocks an arrow to his bow.

"Annya, if you want to try to drive them off, now is the time, but I think they are planning on making a meal of us, if they can!"

Spiders are in short range for the bows.  Roll initiative/attacks (if making an attack)/damage roll unless an obvious miss (like a 1 or a 2).

Zaryk will stand own if Annya tries some sort of spell or power to deal with the spiders.

If she simply shouts or throws something at the spiders he will loose his arrows.

---

14:52, Today: Zaryk na'Liluth rolled 10 using 1d10.  Initiative.

14:52, Today: Zaryk na'Liluth rolled 14 using 1d20+3.  Longbow attack 1.
14:53, Today: Zaryk na'Liluth rolled 6 using 1d8.  damage 1.

14:53, Today: Zaryk na'Liluth rolled 5 using 1d20+3.  Longbow attack 2.
14:53, Today: Zaryk na'Liluth rolled 2 using 1d8.  damage 2.

As soon as Zaryk fires, Arn will join in.

"I guess we'll see how aggressive they are," Arn comments as he fires... right into his shoe. "I'm ok, I'm ok," he says as if to reassure the others though to really himself,  "just shoe damage".

"Always a little rusty at the start," he quickly explains. He strings a second arrow and takes aim and fires.

OOC:
19:12, Today: Arn rolled 3 using 1d20+2.  first arrow to hit spider.
19:13, Today: Arn rolled 14 using 1d20+2.  second arrow to hit spider.
19:13, Today: Arn rolled 6 using 1d6.  second arrow damage.

This message was last edited by the player at 11:08, Mon 18 May 2020.

One Master Fawkes had been musing to himself and surprisingly quietly for the moment... atleast until he snaps back to reality.   Bards are a flighty bunch anyway.   He comments, "We aren't normally used t'playin for Fel beasties... but, give us a crowd, an' were happier than swine in mud."

At which point, he pulls the lute from his back... and strums out a tune...

"My Girl... My Girl... Don't Lie to me... Tell me where ... did you Sleep... Last Night... "

[Initiative: 9 ... Casting Lullaby, target Spiders...]

It was perhaps quite fortunate for Arn that the current style in shoe had a pointed extension past the toes themselves so that when the first arrow pierced the forward shoe, it hit the toe of his shoe and not his actual toes within the shoe.  The next arrow, however, neatly  stabbed into the body of one of the spiders, followed by another from Zaryk's bow, while Jensen's lullaby caused the other spider to--rather than attack or flee--drop its body to the ground, legs splayed wide in eight directions.  The first spider, though, was quite clearly dead, two arrows with tip on one side and fletching on the other side of the spider corpse.  Zaryk's second arrow could be seen to have run wide of the course and a little low, now within a tangle of underbrush.

Zaryk walks up to the sleeping spider and plunges his sword into its head.

"Well Arn, if you are right and that wool was placed in the web to act as a deterrent, then we can cross wolves off our list of possible sheep thieves.

Lead on Annya. We need to keep our eyes and ears open for anything unusual."

Annya studied the ground, and shook her head. "I cannot see anything, but the wool does suggest we are on a right path."

She looked up to try to see the sky through the canopy of trees before saying, "Let's continue this way."  And with that, once the arrows were collected from the spider, she was ready to continue.

"Just one moment," Arn says. He walks to one of the dead spider, leans down, scrunching his face, and grabs it by two of the legs that are opposite the mandibles. His face still scrunched, he lifts it and carries it 5'-10' into the woods, dropping it in any depression in the ground or where it might be hard to see. He does the same for the other spider as well and then, if there are leaves or brush readily available, he will cover the side of the spiders closest to the path. He then rejoins the others on the path.

"Always good to dispose of dead bodies, even if they are only spiders," he comments. "Now I'm ready," he says and gestures for Annya to continue leading.

Annya continued to forge on ahead, while remaining alert as possible for the first signs of any tracks.    Meanwhile, she considered some of what Arn had said.

"These ebon goblins that have been described to us are an unknown people.   Unless anyone happens to know anything they aren't sharing.  It is not impossible they may have had some rapport with those arachnids.  Assuming they are the perpetrators, we should be extra wary in case they happen to have magics or other powers we wouldn't normally anticipate."

She thought a bit more while they walked.  "And if they did have a rapport with them, it also isn't impossible that their death may serve as an alert." 
This message was last edited by the player at 21:48, Mon 18 May 2020.

As the group continued on their way through the woods, the area thinned out, showing that the sun had traveled considerably during their trek in the woods.  The small clearing was perhaps thirty to forty feet across, and a few stunted saplings struggled to grow in the thin, rocky soil.  A heavy rusty plate, some ten feet square, poked through the sparse grasses and weeds in the center of this clearing.

"Now what might that be? A cover to a tunnel or cave, do you suppose?"

Zaryk looks around the edges of the clearing, trying to spot anyone that might be watching from the trees.

"Do you see any more spiders? Or any ebon goblins keeping watch? If not, I suppose the next step is to look under that bit of metal. Maybe we should light a torch now, as it is apt to be dark."

Clarification of the rusty plate: lying mostly flat on the ground (not exactly--a little raised) with rusty bolts on each corner driven into the ground.

Annya eyed the odd metal hatch.   "Well, their dwelling below ground would explain why they aren't often seen."   She ran a hand through her hair, and bit her lower lip. "Not so sure about this.   If I had this sort of home, I'd make certain it was well defended from intrusion, strong metal hatch or no.  I can't imagine it will be as easy as just wandering in, and dealing with them one by one."

"I have trouble imagining how anyone would get sheep to go down there," Arn says. "If they didn't go down there, where are they? What happened to them? I can't believe all that's left is that tiny piece of wool I found."

"Perhaps the hatch is trapped," Arn says in response to Annya. "I have some expertise in looking for and, if need be, disarming such things. It also might simply be locked and otherwise difficult to get open."

"It is yet another mystery. Someone had enough money to buy or fashion a large metal hatch like that but not enough money or inclination to take care of it. Of course, the original owner might not be the current."

"That's a good point, Arn. I imagine carrying a carcass would not be a problem, but there's no evidence that we've seen on the way here that a sheep was butchered.

Do you think those spiders we ran into would eat sheep offal? It could be these mystery-goblins butchered the sheep near the spiders' nest and that is what kept them around as guards."

He chuckles quietly, "When I said that out loud it sounded even more insane that it did in my head!

The way I see it, we can go back and search for the spider nest; search around this clearing a bit for more clues; or try to enter this metal trap door.

The only one of the three that is tangible is the metal door in front of us...so I say we enter; as carefully and quietly as we can."

He looks over at Arn, "I don't want to be rude, but do you need a torch to see in the dark? Annya, John, and I all have dark vision..."

"I'm fine entering the hatch or whatever it is. As for light, as long as any enemies are within easy bowshort range, I should be fine," Arn says.

"So are we all agreed for going down the hatch after I examine it and see if it's trapped?" he asks looking at Annya and Jensen.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:56, Thu 21 May 2020.

As the group continued their examination of the rather oddly placed rusty plate, there was a sudden chill in the air, a sense that made fine hairs stand on edge.  From the far edge of the clearing compared to their point of entry, there were rather suddenly a translucent pair--a boy and a girl--sharing the clearing with the party.

"Are you seeing, what I think I am seeing?"

"If you seeing to child ghosts, then yes," Arn says fumbling, nervously. "Maybe it's just some magical warding thing," he adds attempting to disbelieve what his eyes are seeing.

OOC:
Attempt to disbelieve the illusion (if it is an illusion)

"Help us!" cried the girl, the form seeming to grow more visible--though still quite transparent as the chill in the air reached the level of a mid-winter morn.

"Sofia ate a bad mushroom," said the boy.  "She's not well, and we got lost.  Help us, please."

The drop in temperature compelled Annya to believe that this was no illusion.  "I'm so sorry for your travail, little ones," Annya spoke gently and compassionately to them. "We will absolutely help you, if we can.    But, please -- just a brief question, if you would -- what is the current date, to the best of your understanding?"   

"I'm eight," said the boy, not seeming to understand Annya's question.

"Mommy and Daddy are going to miss us soon," said the girl.  "Please help us."

As much as Arn did not want to believe it true, all the evidence pointed to these truly being ghosts of a pair of children.  Being half-elven, the style of hair and dress did not seem particularly dated, as they were dressed in elven style, but the talk in the tavern had talked of children falling down a well or mine shaft some fifty years prior--perhaps the story was not quite right in the finer details, but the broad strokes of the story seemed to be borne out by the translucent children.

"Well, uhh...Sofia...what do you need us to do to help you?"

"There was talk in the village of some children getting lost in a mine, or such -- " Annya continued softly, "did you get lost down there?"  she asked, pointing toward the metal hatch.

They needed to understand more of their plight -- so she waited to see how Zaryk would be answered -- but it did cross Annya's mind that perhaps locating their remains, and giving them proper rites with interment or a pyre, might aid them to move on from this world.

"Help us get home," said the girl, a quality in her voice as though it was obvious what was needed.  "We didn't go there," she added, "it's this way."  She pointed beyond the clearing into the thickening trees.

"Is it far?" Arn asks cautiously trying hard not to grimace.

He wasn't exactly thrilled at the prospect of following these ghost children. Probably lead off the edge of a cliff or something. Still, just a few days ago had been desperate for a cover and being ensconced in a group, even an adventurer group, was far better than to be out on his own. If only it were possible to get them to believe that they had been together for a 2 to 3 months so he would have a good alibi. Hmm. Perhaps after some monster had dealt one of his compatriots a serious blow to the head. Confused and disoriented, they might end up believing a carefully worded lie. It was at least worth a try.

He returns to the present situation - following the ghost children. It was foolish, he knew, but he also knew that adventurers were reckless. That's why he was so resistant to the idea of joining such a group in the first place! But they were a good cover and survival did appeal to him. If these adventures including this little side adventure was necessary, well..., he certainly wasn't ready to break ranks, at least not yet. However, if serious trouble did come, well, there is reason he is lightly encumbered.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:21, Wed 27 May 2020.

"I don't like this at all," Zaryk whispers to his companions, "but if they are innocents who died and need to be put to rest how can we not try? Emele watch over us!"

He looks to his companions for their agreement or dissent as he stows his bow on his shoulder, and draws his sword, trying not to look threatening as he does so.

Annya had already made up her own mind on the matter.

"I'd be shirking my duty as a priestess not to give this priority, and do anything I can to help.   When souls are in pain this way, it is a wound to all of Life.   Even if the rest of you choose otherwise, I must go."   

However, she did prepare for more material sorts of threats, having her bow in hand, and an arrow out ready to nock.    She began to walk in the direction indicated by the spirit, but went cautiously and warily.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:32, Fri 29 May 2020.

The children started to hold hands as they moved away from the clearing, perhaps another hundred feet before they came to a stop.  Here, into the side of a hill--which looked artificially raised, for the ground was otherwise flat around it--could be seen a half-overgrown doorway leading into that "hillside".

"This way," said the boy, moving into the doorway with the girl.

The temperature seemed to rise ever so slightly, although still a rather unnatural chill.  Also, curiously enough, near the doorway were a few pellets that looked rather suspiciously like sheep droppings.

Zaryk shudders, and it is apparent that it is not just from the unnatural cold.

"I will make no bones about it, I am frightened by all this...but I agree with you, Annya, it is the right thing...I hope."

He steps to the door, looks back at the Neroli priestess that he has only known for a few hours, trying to draw some strength from her, and then step inside.

Arn approaches the door with Zaryk. As he spots the pellets, he squats down and take a closer look.

"Sheep appear to have gone this direction as well," Arn says, sounding a bit perplexed and disturbed.

He hesitates for a moment, not really wanting to go inside, the unnatural chill warding him away. But then shaking his head and muttering, "what I have gotten myself into", he continues forward following Zaryk.

OOC:
Upon inspection, do they appear to be sheep pellets?

"Thank you," she said sincerely to Zaryk and Arn when they came too.  "And don't think I don't find it unnerving as well. I've some study of such things, but it's a wholly unfamiliar experience. To put it mildly."   

As regards the pellets - "Perhaps solving the one thing, will help us in solving the other?"  Life did indeed work that way, sometimes.   She went in with the others, to find out for certain if it would be the case.

It was indeed a deposit of "ewe berries" as shepherds were wont to call them by the entrance to this place.  A few sharp blades made the opening such that they could pass--the height of the opening had been of no import to the translucent children, but seemed better suited to one perhaps a foot shorter than Annya.

Beyond this, as their eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, they could see that this opening was--despite the overgrowth of vegetation--framed by what was left of a large wooden door, fragments scattered about on the floor.  Rusting iron nails protruded from these planks and littered the floor.  Beyond, there was a narrow, passage with a low (perhaps 5') ceiling carved from rock.  The remains of a track could be seen in places with rotting sleepers and short lengths of rusted iron rail.

Furthermore, there were more "ewe berries" on the ground amidst the broken bits of rotting wood.

"Damned place is small enough for goblins." Zaryk whispers as he crouches to follow the trail of 'berries' down the tunnel, "How did humans mine in here?"

He moves slowly, gently tapping the ground with his sword every step to ensure he does not miss a hole, or worse.

Line

Annya only nodded at Zaryk's observations, having no clue herself.   She disliked the stoney, stifling corridor immediately, that she at least could stand at her full height (by little more than an inch with her boots)notwithstanding.   But it was where they must go...

The narrow passage ran for about forty feet, and they could tell that it was starting to widen until it reached a more usual ten foot span before opening into a large, irregular, natural cavern.  The smell of ammonia had increased as they moved through the passageway, and now it was quite heavy in the air.  The floor was littered with the remains of a number of small creatures and guano.  This cavern had a ceiling of perhaps thirty feet above the floor, and looked like it might well be higher in places.  Stalagmites and oddly shaped pillars partially blocked the view to the sides, while stalactites hung from the ceiling, stretching out to try to reach their opposites stretching up from the cave floor.

Zaryk raises his hand to signal the group to stop. He whispers, "I'm not a miner, but I'm sure this is not a mine.

With all the bones and the droppings, there's no doubt something lives here. But these rock formations make it hard to see all the nooks and crannies. It could be anywhere.

I have a Light spell prepared. Should we chance it?"

Arn shrugs. "Cast it if you wish. I am good either way," he whispers back.

"I find it odd that there are so many remains of creatures  scattered here," he whispers, "they were either lunch for something or somethings or they were overcome by the ammonia. It's really bad in here." He pulls a shirt and uses it to make a makeshift bandana to cover his nose and mouth, tying it to the back of his head. He then bends over and examines one of the remains that is close to him.

OOC:
What kind of creature does it appear to be? How does it appear to have died. Is the body managed, bones broken flesh removed or is it intact?
I'm perfectly fine if you want to cast Light
 
This message was last edited by the player at 10:45, Thu 04 June 2020.

The remains appear to have been at least partially eaten small mammals, many of them have decayed down to just a jumble of bones.

These 'oddly shaped pillars'  --  odd in what way?  What are we looking at, exactly?

The pillars look like they are made of a different substance than the other stalactites and stalagmites.  On closer examination, evidence of toolmarks can also be seen.

Zaryk picks up a stone from the ground, mumbles some arcane words, "Globus Candidus Lux" the area around the group lights up.

"Do you see Sofia and her brother anywhere?" he whispers as he glances around the areas of the cavern that are now illuminated, especially the roof.

---

Cast Light: Duration: 1 turn/level; Area of Effect: 20-ft. radius

Although the light did not reach as far as the roof, there was still enough glow to somewhat illuminate the roof, revealing shadows which were suggestive of a pair of bats sleeping up there.  It appeared that there were three possible paths to take, the rightmost one showing signs of a riot of mushrooms growing on the surfaces.




(Green for the outside)

Arn looks around. "Did they just disappear? Perhaps they don't like the light?" he asks referring to the child ghosts. "Didn't the boy say that Sofia ate some bad mushrooms?" He points over to the voluminous mushrooms over in the far right passage. "Perhaps those over there?" he asks.

It occurred to him, if those were the mushrooms that Sofia ate when she got sick, they were likely poisonous. He considers for several moments about walking over and grabbing a few. Certainly, they might be handy one day assuming they were poisonous but he wasn't sure how the other party members might react. Annya in particular seemed like one who might object. He sighed. Maybe it was best to focus on finding where the sheep went.

He then looks to the cavern floor again, scanning for tracks or indications that something had gone one of the directions recently as well as looking for any more ewe berries.

OOC:
Any sign of tracks or disturbances that might suggest something went any of those 3 paths recently? Any more signs of sheep, ewe berries or something else like that?

This message was last edited by the player at 13:33, Sat 06 June 2020.

In looking at the mushrooms, Arn noted that they did not all appear the same--some had a white cap dotted with red, some had a black cap, and others had a cap which appeared almost green with white dots.

There seemed, however, to be more evidence of recent passage--something like a path through the guano--through the center passage.

"The mushroom patch makes sense, as that is likely where Sofia...umm...ate her last meal..." he whispers with a shudder.

"But you are right, Arn. There is definitely more foot traffic...living foot traffic, toward the centre. I say we go there first."

Annya shook her head as regards their spirit guides.  "I've not glimpsed them since back before we entered.   But, it is not common for a ghost to remain visible for long periods, as I was given to understand. And aye, those are almost surely the mushrooms they spoke of.   I can think of no better plan - so the center it is."

Proceeding straight ahead through the center passage, they found that this soon ended in a hall that ran to the left and to the right.  Doors could be seen in the hall to the left, and one door in the hall to the near right, along with what looked like narrow passageways leading away from the main hallway--one past the door to the right, and another nearly opposite the two doors in the hall to the left.  From appearance, the hall continued past where sight allowed at the moment.  There were no signs of ewe berries or other tracks on the stone floor.

"Do you have a preference to which direction? If not, I say right, as it the same side as the mushroom grove."

---

Not that there is any real logic in that!

Again, Annya had no better thought or contrasting opinion, and simply nodded her agreement at the suggestion.

"Right, same side as the mushrooms is fine, though this entire situation seems increasingly bizarre," Arn comments shaking his head. "Is this normal for adventurers?" he asks. "Following trackless sheep, being lead by child ghosts to foul smelling caves containing poisonous mushrooms?" he asks. "Not that I'm complaining, just want to prepare myself for, eh, the afternoon."

"When we meet some real adventurers we can ask them."

Making their decision, the group made a turn to the right.  Here, they found that the passageway was well-formed, clearly worked stone rather than a natural formation.  To the right, there was a door, and ahead in the distance, a narrow passage to the left.  The passageway also continued further straight.

"Shall we try the door?" the elf whispers to his companions.

Annya nodded her accord to the idea.

"Our first step toward becoming real adventurers-?" she said softly, with a slight smile and the quirking of one brow.

"You're new at this too?" Arn asks in surprise. "I was so desperate to find a co..., to find some other adventurers, I must of overlooked that last night at the inn," he ends a bit lamely.

"Ah, yes. The door. Let me check out the door and make sure it's safe. Quiet please, need to concentrate," Arn says. He examines the door carefully, looking for any wires, unusually worn or discolored areas looking for any traps. Afterwards, assuming no traps are found, he will listen at the door to hear if any noise is coming from behind it. Once complete,he will back off and let someone else open the door, assuming he did not find any traps.

OOC:
Find Traps:   25%
Detect Noise: 15%

While Arn found no traps and heard nothing beyond the door, the door itself was not locked, but in the time that had passed since it was regularly used, it had become quite stuck.

"Be ready," Zaryk whispers to his companions, he then puts his shoulder to the door and gives it a shove.

The door does not move, so he hits with shoulder, 3 times before it opens.

---

I made assumption that an Open Doors roll is needed. And it took Zaryk the mighty warrior 4 tries to roll a 9 or less on a d20!!

Should be fine, as the dead are already awake! :-)

11:59, Today: Zaryk na'Liluth rolled 16 using 1d20.  open doors attempt.
11:59, Today: Zaryk na'Liluth rolled 11 using 1d20.  open doors attempt 2.
11:59, Today: Zaryk na'Liluth rolled 14 using 1d20.  open doors attempt 3.
12:01, Today: Zaryk na'Liluth rolled 6 using 1d20.  open doors attempt 4.

The door was stubborn, but at last it yielded to Zaryk's shoulder, which started to throb a little from the repeated impacts.

Within, the room was dominated by a large table--now covered with fungal growths and mold--apparently wood underneath these growths, and surrounded by four wooden chairs that each had sprouted their own fungal colonies.  A solid looking wooden door was set into the wall opposite their entrance.  To their right was the tattered remnant of a sheet of parchment hanging on the wall, though whatever had been upon this parchment must have been written on the parts now absent.  To the left, against the wall, was a wooden chest with iron banding.

Zaryk's widen at the sight of the chest. The sore shoulder may be worth it, if there is a treasure to be found.

"Arn do you want to take a look at the chest? I want to see if there is anything left of this parchment."

Zaryk examines the parchment carefully for any writing or symbols. He will join Arn at the chest if there are none to be found.

He takes his Neroli sash, wets with some water and ties it around his nose and mouth in an attempt to filter the mildewy air.

[Language unknown: "Chder name whout traromlat mi, paninc Hingun?"] He reaches to his pack to find that the cat has burrowed her way inside.

OOC:
Does the check have mold on it? If it does the amount of mold compare to the tables and chairs?

The chest was less infested with fungus--possibly the iron bands interrupted the growth.  The metal does not have mold or fungus on it.

"Let's try to disturb the mold as little as possible," he says quietly. He walks over to the chest, as quietly as he can. He then begins to exam it checking for any traps and seeing if it appears to be locked. If he finds none and it appears unlocked he will attempt to open it though shifting as much to the side as he can to avoid anything that might spring up directly in the front of the chest.

While Arn found no evidence of traps, the chest was locked.

The fragments of parchment were devoid of markings.  The best guess was that, when someone had removed the parchment--evidently by tearing it away--the part with writing had been removed.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:17, Sun 14 June 2020.

"Actually, it's a good sign that it's locked," Arn says out loud. He pulls out his lock pick tools and attempts to pick the lock.

OOC:
Open Locks: 40%
Should I roll Rogue ability checks?

This message was last updated by the GM at 23:20, Sun 14 June 2020.

Arn set to work on the lock, although the pins within stubbornly refused to budge for him.

---

Fixed the posting character (was Westin).  Ordinarily, yes, go ahead and roll.  I made the roll this time but outcome was not good.

Arn attempts to lift one side of the chest. "The lock is jammed," he says.

OOC:
How heavy is the chest? Is the lock a padlock or is in part of the chest.

Likewise breathing through a dampened scarf, Annya observed the effort of her two equally inexperienced comrades.     As for Zaryk's efforts at the door:

"On a list of some others, I see that persistence is one of your virtues, Sir Shadowtop." 

While watching Arn work delicately at his craft:    "I confess to being fully out of my depth here.   Pursuing ghosts through wooded glades was somehow more comfortable.  Which is saying a lot.   I apologize for lack of contribution.   Part of me would just love to get the hells of this place, I admit."   

Truly, her nerves were on edge here.  Beneath her leathers, she could tell her arms had the goosebumps to prove it.

The chest was relatively light in weight, the lock built into the iron bands that wrapped around the wood.

Zaryk draws one of his daggers, "Do you think you can force it with this? Or do you happen to have a crowbar handy?" he adds with a quiet chuckle.

"I won't be able to get it open with a dagger," Arn responds shaking his head. "A crowbar would be best but I don't have one. Do you have an axe? If not, you are probably a lot stronger than me. Can pry it open in some way?"

OOC:
Sorry for the delayed post. Thought I had already responded.

This message was last edited by the player at 16:40, Tue 23 June 2020.

"No axe, sorry. We are not like the adventurers in the stories, are we? Always having the right tool at the right time!

Given that it appears that no one has been in here for years, perhaps we can leave the chest for now, and carry it out when we leave?"

Arn sighs. "I suppose you're right. It probably isn't going anywhere. All right, we can leave it here for now but I want to be sure to come back and get it before we leave these tunnels."

"Are you ok with that Anna?"

OOC:
Did the ghosts disappear?

This message was last edited by the player at 02:33, Wed 24 June 2020.

"More than okay.  I don't think the chest is much of a priority, right now."   She smiled.  "Though, wouldn't it be humorous if it contained a set of tools?"   

"A right group of adventurers we would make, following ghosts into the depths of the earth only to bring back a hammer and some saws!

Shall we try the other door?" he rubs his shoulder as he points.

She nodded.   "Allow me," Annya went to the door, and first listened for sounds on the other side of it.

And damn me, I don't remember how it's rolled in 2E, or if this particular DM prefers to make the roll.

If she doesn't hear anything, Annya will try it gently, and see if it's unlocked. 

The door proved to be unlocked, although what was beyond was quiet.  Opening the door, they could see a room which clearly had been a bedroom--once quite well-furnished.  The bed was well-constructed, looking quite sound despite the passage of time.  The legs and posts which had once supported bed curtains were all carved with abstract geometric designs.  Lying on the floor within the mess which was now a moldy mess of mattress and blankets was a skeleton dressed in a remnant of a nightshirt--the skeleton was the right size to have been a gnome, although without the nose being present, that was only a supposition that was more probable than not.  A wooden dresser--of lesser quality than the bed--stood drunkenly beside the bed, as one leg had rotted away.  Beside this dresser was a shattered glass vial, which might have fallen from the top of the dresser when it tilted.

---

Apologies--I seem to have dropped the ball on this one.

"First ghosts, and now skeletons...what happened to goblins?" he whispers to his companions.

"Could that be an undead creature? he asks Annya? "I hate to desecrate innocent remains, but should we smash it, in case?"

"My, aren't we suspicious," Arn comments. "Well, I certainly won't stand in your way but if you go about busting up every skeleton wherever we go, you might earn the nickname bone breaker. I'm happy to leave it up to our priest, though, as she probably knows better than either of us. What say you Annya? Should Zaryk smash it up or not?"

OOC:
Any visible weapons on or by the skeleton?

No weapons (or tools that might be used as weapons) are immediately visible.

"I'm a Vejan priestess, not a cleric," she supplied, looking thoughtfully, a trace sadly, at the pathetic remains.

"We are, in some ways, more akin to druids.  Living, growing things are our proclivity, not the undead.  I've no more clue than you two.  But, I'm inclined to say let be.  I think the danger will come from what lives in here."

"Suspicious does not cover it!" Zaryk replies quietly with a smile. "Very fearful is closer to the truth. But I trust Annya's judgement. Still..."

The elf utters an incantation, "Invisibilis Servus", and the others see...nothing happen!

"Open the dresser drawers," he commands.

---

Cast Unseen Servant.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
Duration: 1 hr. + 1 turn/level  Casting Time: 1

• an invisible, mindless, and shapeless force, used to step and fetch, open unstuck doors, and hold chairs, as well as to clean and mend.
• can perform only one activity at a time and can carry up to 20 pounds or push/pull 40 pounds across a smooth surface.
• can open only normal doors, drawers, lids, etc.

---

One drawer after another opened, as though on its own volition, revealing, in most cases a mess of ruined fabric which had probably been clothing when the skeleton had had flesh upon its bones.  The topmost drawer, however, revealed a ring of keys.

Annya arched a brow. "And here, you were bothered by some ghosts, and then you summon one," she chided Zaryk, humorously.

"Aha," she said, noting the keys, "Methinks we've a way to open that resistive chest back there." 

Shall we go back-?

Zaryk has the Unseen Servant retrieve the keys, which he hands to Arn.

"Better than a crowbar, I hope!"

---

If Arn and Annya are done with this room then, let's see if the keys open the chest.

Arn appeared a bit taken aback as the keys magically dangle in front of him. "Couldn't you tell it to go unlock the chest first and open it before giving me the keys," he sputtered, unwilling for the moment to reach his hand out and grab the keys.

Silently, he agreed with Annya's summoning remark though didn't find it quite so funny. Moreover, he felt a bit foolish about his earlier comment of the skeleton. Clearly Zaryk was someone with knowledge and power of the dead.

"I was just thinking it might be safer if your ghost opened it though I can do so if you prefer," Arn adds quickly.

OOC:
If Zaryk prefers, Arn will take the keys and go back and open the chest. If not, he'll let the Unseen Servant do that. Arn is ready to go back to the other room.

"What a dolt I am! Good idea Arn, I will use the magicked servant to try the key in the chest. Just in case there is some sort of trap."

Zaryk will take the keys from Arn and hand them back to the Unseen Servant.


Seeing Arn's hesitation in interacting with the invisible force, Zaryk adds, "Oh. You don't have to worry about this servant being a ghost or undead. It is simply a magical force that obeys simple commands. And most importantly, it can clean up the dishes!"

Then he steps back into the other room, staying close to the door, and commands the servant to unlock the chest.

One key, and then another, and another, and finally like all the tales told, the third key slipped into the lock, turning it with a definite click.

Opening the chest was a bit of a disappointment after that, for within could be found only decayed things that might have once been booklice, and a few fragments of parchment and vellum.

Zaryk will carefully examine the parchment and vellum for any information.

"Shall we continue our exploration? I suggest we continue to the right in the hall."

Arn relaxed a bit on hearing Zaryk words about his magicked servant though he was a bit confused about this dishes reference unless he meant he actually used that thing as a maid? He shook his head. His companions were different that he expected and was used to. Perhaps it went with the territory with being an adventurer in which case he better learn on or two oddities himself in keeping with his disguise. Still, the oddities of his newfound companions didn't bother him and they were far, far better than a hangman's noose.

He felt disappointment as the contents of the chest revealed nothing of worth. After Zaryk finished examining the scraps of parchment and vellum, he will step forward and carefully tap the inner lid, sides and bottom of the chest to try to detect any hidden compartments. Assuming he finds none, upon finishing, he will rise and say, "Yes, let us continue. Please lead the way."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:23, Sat 22 Aug 2020.

"Sorry for putting the ghost idea into your head, Arn," Annya apologized to the adventurer.

"I was in jest.  Knowing Zaryk is a mage, I was aware it was just some useful spell. Our people deal with the arcane more frequently than yours do. It isn't so unusual to us."   

"If there's nothing of interest on those fragments, then by all means, let's go right."

Leaving the rooms behind, the group turned to the right, returning once more to the hallway which had showed clear signs of man-made (or was that gnome-made, based on the size of the skeleton found?) hallway.  While this passageway stretched out ahead of them for some distance, with more of the ewe-berries making an occasional appearance, there was another, narrow passage which led to the left, from which emanated a noticeable chill.

Here the passage was both that of the natural, water-worn passage with the occasional augmentation of the work of mortal hands.  The translucent form of the children was present here.

"We thought you were lost," said the boy.  "Just like us."

"No we are not lost, yet. You and Sofia just got ahead of us.

You know, you told us your sister's name but we don't know your name. If you lead us, we will follow, just don't get out of sight.

By the way, I'm Zaryk, and these are my friends Arn and Annya."

Arn keeps his expression neutral though inwardly he is disappointed. He had hoped they had lost the child ghosts. He clears his throat to get Zaryk's attention and then says, "It looks like at least some sheep went this way," he says gently, pointing to the ewe-berries that lie down the hallway.

OOC:
BTW - feel free to go whichever way you wish -  Zaryk or Annya, whoever is leading. Arn is definitely not leading so he will follow someone else lead though he might grumble about it. That's my playing his character though, not me. I'm fine either way. It can be a bit confusing sometimes, but anything my character says is just that, my character, not me. I'll post something on OOC or PM people if I have a strong opinion on the direction we are going, which will be rare. I'm just glad this game is going again :)

Also, if Arn's grumbling becomes annoying, lmk and I can stop it.

This message was last edited by the player at 16:31, Wed 26 Aug 2020.

Trailing the translucent children, the trio of adventurers plus one intrepid cat made their way through a number of twists, beyond alcoves and small mined passages which had petered out quickly.  Finally, they came to one alcove where the children stopped.

"I'm Craig," said the boy.  "Help us home."

The air seemed to grow warmer as the children vanished from sight.  Here in the alcove could be seen bones which still wore remnants of clothing, a little bit of hair still present.  Together, the bones were small and light, and could easily be placed within a sack.

"You were right in following the children, Annya," Zaryk says, his voice choking up. He surreptitiously wipes his eyes.

Zaryk will direct his Unseen Servant to gather the remains of the children.

"Perhaps, we can carry them out of this place in the chest from the last room...it would be a bit more dignified.

May Emele watch over you, Craig and Sofia...and your family."

---

I hope Annya or Arn has a sack because Zaryk only has a pack! But it is mostly empty if needed.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:01, Wed 02 Sept 2020.

Arn watches without expression the Unseen Servant starts gather the bones. Sensing what Zaryk is needing, he takes off his pack, reaching in and rearranges things a bit. He then pulls out a small sack and offers it to Zaryk. "You can put the bones in here," he offers glumly.

Zaryk accepts the sack from Arn, and holds it open, his hands shaking a bit, as the Unseen Servant deposits the remains of the children into it. He ties of the top, and hands the sack back to Arn.

"Now what? I have the feeling that the mystery of the missing sheep is not solved by finding the bones of these poor children.

Do we continue to follow the turds in the hall and see what else we find in here?"

Annya as well lacked a sack in which to place the remains.  And was likewise undeterred by it, as she too made room in her pack.   She was also even more passionate on this matter, and broke into prayer:

"Veja,[Language unknown: Reswasest Latfornte o no for intiveive, ouunio in, prne yinpa trint meers din ateil etek pataio, alio na roilin oerallfor dies la entreaugh ma ncederhis ticundnti ecder ine to thilatwhe latai k larwasore. Entiveort ofdin and se harend bero, ut ndurplni ore, oneve diha'prnt ekekth." ]

"Are you truly asking me, Shadowtop?  Because I say to the Hells with the turds, and forget the sheep for now, and let us leave, and do right by these little ones. As the village we are serving plainly did not."

Annya is somewhat outraged, a bit pissed --  however she can be talked of this notion, because at the player level I don't want to derail the adventure for you two or the GM. But, you asked, and this is what she wants to go do.

This message was last edited by the player at 00:13, Sun 06 Sept 2020.

((Yes, there is adventure following the trail of the missing sheep.  But sheep have been going missing for awhile, so it's a thread you can come back to, if desired.  It'll be quicker getting back since now you know where the sheep have been probably taken instead of having to search.  Or carry the deceased with you while going on that adventure.  There'll always be places where adventure crosses your path no matter where you go.))

Well, that settles it for me.   You can two can try to talk Annya out of it;  but it will be far more challenging now.  ;) Kidding...if you both really hate the idea, we can keep going with this..
This message was last edited by the player at 00:12, Sun 06 Sept 2020.

Zaryk accepts the priestess' admonishment without complaint. Instead, he nods in acceptance and a small, tight smile appears on his face.

"I agree whole-heartedly, Annya. But, I did not want to dictate our actions based on my...feelings.

Arn, do you agree? We return the remains of the children to their parents, if we can locate them. We can look for the missing sheep on the morrow."

---

If the consensus is to leave, then Zaryk will stop at the previous room, dump the chest, and place the sack of remains into it.

"Uh, that's fine," Arn said though not really meaning it. He did think it was sad though he wasn't nearly as moved as his companions were. His main concern was that he needed to lay low. Returning bones of dead children to the town was bound to cause a ruckus. The fact that the bones were perhaps decades old didn't help matters either. In fact, it might even lead to word being spread all the more widely in search of parents who were long dead. Undoubtably authorities would get involved, even if it was merely to placate upset villagers. Even worse, Annya might even go to the authorities straightaway.

He shifted uneasily. Annya seemed dead set on returning to the village with the bones and Zaryk nearly as much. Arguing with them seemed futile and would likely harden their resolve and become even more resistant to other options. What was needed was a pretext.

"Perhaps someone should stay behind and keep watch of the cave entrance from outside. Once word spreads of what you found, whoever is stealing the sheep might try to get away or perhaps set some kind of trap. I would be happy to stay behind," Arn volunteers, "and keep and eye out. I'm good at staying hidden and am more than happy to keep watch while you return the remains to the town folk."

"If they try to leave with the sheep, it will be obvious, and we or someone else will catch them.  If they leave without them, and the animals are recovered, that works for me.   The perpetrators being driven out for good is a good enough result, in my reckoning." She paused.  "Forgive me, allies - but I am not personally that invested in dispensing justice on behalf of others.  If it matters more to either of you, for whatever reasons, I do understand."     

"But I do not think word will travel so quickly - especially since I suspect our sheep poachers are not human -  though, I understand your concern, Arn.  And it might be a good precaution.  But, I'm not so sure about you staying here alone.  Zaryk - what do you think?"
This message was last edited by the player at 18:25, Sun 06 Sept 2020.

"I didn't really think that we were here to dispense justice, rather it was to solve the mystery of missing sheep! And, I fully expected that the culprit was a wolf or other animal.

I expect our return to town will cost us the rest of the day for certain. If you think you will be all right if you stay out here overnight, Arn, then I will owe you a hot meal in the tavern when we return with the mystery solved!"

Then if it is what Arn wishes to do, I believe we're decided. 

With assurances from Arn that he would be all right in their absence, Annya and Zaryk--with their very light burden of the bones made their way back from the depths of the cave where they had been led, returning by the room that had held the nearly empty chest.

"I agree with your thought; the chest will be more dignified," Annya said to Zaryk.

If Zaryk still agreed, and the remains transferred to the chest, then Annya spoke a short but heart felt blessing as the bones were placed therein.  Then frowned a little.

"As Arn pointed out, this revelation is bound to cause reaction amongst the villagers, whether or no the parents themselves still live.   I just hope it does satisfy the lost spirits, grant them peace and departure."

Zaryk helps Annya transfer the remains of the children to the chest. "Time to go home Craig and Sofia," he whispers under his breath.

Once they exit the mine, Zaryk will turn to Arn, "If you are sure you are comfortable with staying out here on your own we will be on our way. We will return as soon as possible tomorrow morning."


"I agree there may be a strong reaction...but their sorrow should be tinged with happiness that the children have been found...don't you think?"

"I'll be fine," Arn assures them. "and someone needs to keep an eye on the entrance. However, if for some reason it's longer than a two or three days, though, you might stop by to get me. I don't want to hunker out here for days on end."


To Zaryk's other question, Arn shrugs his shoulders. "Sometimes people get a lot more angry than you might expect."

Annya and Zaryk, with the burden of the chest which now held the remains of two children, made their way out of the cave they had found, and back toward the village.  They could see that the time that had passed had made it so that it was likely to be closer to sunset by the time they made it back to the village, perhaps just past sunset if they took the time to put up trail markers to re-assure themselves of being on the right path on their return to where they had left Arn.

Just before starting the trek back to the village, Zaryk takes a moment to pull a sleeping cat out of his pack, and deposit her on the ground.

[Language unknown: Ontaof etpolo et trio Wiecce! Et inekni et us, inefi utat st ma tedhe, thi estha stail ta beceil. Wit ac t setul manlinain rutthoain.]

"We'll be back tomorrow Arn. And I will be sure to bring some food! Stay safe." He waves as he and Annya start toward the village with their tragic package.

"Annya, you will be able to find our way back, won't you?"

"Not being able to would be bad, wouldn't it?  So, as insurance, we shall set trail markers along our route." 

Yes, we are definitely taking the time for that.

Along the way, Annya was sometimes content to simply walk in silence, admiring the natural world, as well as staying alert for any risks or signs of danger.   But at some point she did venture:

[Language unknown: "M, Earwerndefor chie m ous heth ei chsa Noilpa Meioto icou il la sta oulthiany ta Arhiekus?  M te somcomint ic stitednceain sa lafile?"]

[Language unknown: "Refito Rewiuswi Omwiut! Ove, anmopa hishis'realat resstaive alhoin re reaaveiou ad I unpaee eltohaev stieenoul!

Tr rosi encwhilat e u m whtoil astingure a evngho setmi intandset manen ta weour et her. E heminchi ie of virevebut o astvenrutine deros re leasil e m enurpl fi, ce Ck ithoveons icave redicatha m ven lllimi.

K whiardugh earartven ckofla to taesckseol est strrut-reaout la pamiun wasectest pro p St conanyous p les an haanof. U manstrtio as Ckhohoof us p lomender ance, essst mipre ninepl int. Pr ughoutoer p atstulll maeece hemasaiv arto atlo ac oreainticlat nori larli! Ll U hewewh hasiveiou Promte, et omewerhas ul Acbeal Intectwil, ellin ingdersti ni escon ivecri to intardnotthaove. Om arnand Mo teulil asbeel!

I di ll whpo iten i eeour istr isut-ntbe nde. Di ioeve ive Ll na mowahassca oeril fo nderut'omeant o Set ove toard Nd li nout et la ort omeeon wime atiithsti!

Ioei son ul ivpr, Wilerethe inckmefi? Trch ichillwhe enta inal ek siec Hou i Sonte?]
This message was last edited by the player at 00:22, Fri 18 Sept 2020.

She smiled, placed a hand over her heart, [Language unknown: "Inac, o ivhinick to Reswitareare Acwiwh eautr osntmiom th ev er san fo.  M koranyany iv toalma verof nc theeveeen earntiith meieni-etce estic tho! Oer ic he ivmalewaol m oula hase'pritev his n om dayandver ughastman, rom ch m be not ivleilng iveany-ughvirstr terte ckckel ersll nasan onsastearone rommanast ni preavesta.  Nte dinant'evehis ateectter fito ngtose earvirone dayvirenciou ieosai, viriv prshe p ch erehatour menlatmen thehisave. Pa ou k, peetha ll eswhomho oserss n olngsi whiro latlinles miro ilceiois, ort artce fortinure pl menticingwit een aiathe essri sanherresthi'ounugh.  Ted albut eauereenc p wit t pewi o ngasin etai k nceti trtiwa.   Il, reaughwheughons ut ecte'hoiv il lo utch of hearho adis.  Fo al hi ivein un, fous Momeil ecekeime p a p ainundkoromeman, oure oulous'intouners, ol.  Icweer icapa o ainproive thiwasman u ng oerel K essun eeprerme resol ati yinconthu p eeman ngear.  Trre u whelatoutrut daysantio staeveday niwe."    ]

[Language unknown: "Os he m iouhasainkor un ol ecsom ovethoich oulstrsoname e esssi, it a K p ourearut a?"], Zaryk asks with a smile.

[Language unknown: "Wilintorerea, U me toome ou tho tioconoun evat ereonsderted he it o eraousund nc ur."]

As his smile fades, he pauses and then adds, [Language unknown: "P sanwitant po ur ure hari Pahi redol unst wisaol rom hothpa ntwewh sihat arewereauest venio et anystaure, nieen chasfo eiur Reai le i ratof Estac, e ckpr oer ill kor almiwinaca ee strprolar tio.

Ame esceos ronc hi diheul on io eauee si. Evicma et Strvirtic dayureare sithe houanyint ntedi! Ne ut ntwe merat romi cass miti haontoos."]

She nodded at that.  [Language unknown: "Ilvir. Roof u estis vor la mael hereraheroun ofil Ee incknd er la eiatchiein, na nd nape atec resmanessard. Ovethanti A der laroreshe ioar riekma tiosanome, at pr ame ro blederderkor o el k iv roble sa still ntelri andortnde-ourent.  Enccomtho et tiniouine oftoivla, pl o inevirugh ard nde as os anivio eendereen hou etma era tiai host. La enwi p os prhack at me melelo thereslin es ou rehiil. M etckho inttertha...u ca houut elil pl daystrugh."  ]

After walking for sometime in contemplative silence, Zaryk suddenly spoke.

[Language unknown: "Itbeit! Nawi ounwas'eenlarany le it whit lar ore ionomestr es ee retra. Ti thasa wer e wilwerlin ioma artviroveall ureec wilareart amesi fo...a a!...Ssnc, ca Essortnce."]

He then turns to his non-feline companion.

[Language unknown: "Caieun, leinst pa ei romverthi po ar? No maekis icwaat e ereoreugh ilitar are moie Lesovethotho Ca esec inenceintint k in ame icaardall u larat redartaveoer ers has eratraeen t anyentyin ne!

K il has whfisi mi prohasort ame K centce. It, lite cechos li at yinwhiica nadiil. Seurpowall adus he Witpro-icawit ho Mi m entstaven!"]

She again nodded her concurrence.  [Language unknown: "Sa Tedconeenant, ill rediouich ith setthelin...iont i fo! Outratrom, as inache iononsprocom menyinstr il illadi. As oreprekor ereallherstrwhi ulca ckhaec of onisch petian an ore hafono, tawe as p pre ofna wired thesetaveave. T, pa n proforfor titha as wepril o illeauhas, ilne hi haatwi ou osnier di asecetre cewapa eaumi terer tica'habe.  Se lawa ountintramen est Ecttraver adecar, whee we ta alatma korwerect noleto'ngli.  Mena stee etpoan teulst a andhi ng ect tedni erelarpro thaomeion ma anei."]

Laughing at Annya's jibe, Zaryk notes, "Truth be told it is Arn's wisdom; I have just been ruminating on his warning that the townspeople may not take this discovery well."

"From what I have heard on my journey here, the people of Birnasi blend the ways of elf and human, so you may, once again, be correct, priestess!"

Despite the smile on his face, Zaryk's fingers go to the hilt of sword ensuring that it is loose in its scabbard.

---

As Annya and Zaryk made their way back through the woods and fields toward the village of Birnasi, they could see that it was approaching the time when people were closing up shops for the day, although Finian's Inn was naturally only starting to see its business boom.  Looking along the tracks, they could see along the southern arc of the village a small structure that looked like a fairly typical shrine for Aikane--a wooden structure which was a set of pillars and an open frame at the top where ribbons and chains of flowers might be affixed.  Near this was a small wooden building which had much in common with what they had seen in prior travels of a small community's Atuan church.

The area in between the arcs of the north path and the south path had been, of course, cleared for the competition that they had heard folk talking about on their prior night in the village.

Pointing to the southern side of the village, Zaryk says, [Language unknown: "Ai posaha ieere tiere com hoenti thuvirundwas, Evendeive...p ntdiet estic tr hobebe! Urllre e com meon mawil iotimi."]

[Language unknown: "Man mipesaen lat al  laut p ilit out pre foouom ncica con eentioers ituntenore.   Estte, encnceeve utilni k nte trckhaos nterre ur Ceeisi, virintoernde ivur atwhi se oersetthe ectiouenc thoresfor us os ecuril. I urenceugh, anthch Atacplpl ekriio, us alllck be Thalarshe, Mediun st Ndeortrom."]   She gazed at the pillared shrine a short moment, before suggesting:

[Language unknown: "Niwise ri oldi alarel rend pa bedi trsahise, ro nti os a itman ent t atiatieau." ]

[Language unknown: "Pr atiut ho ssany is stfo."]

After setting the chest down, Zaryk pulls on the church door to see if it is open.

If not, he will knock loudly. If it opens, he will enter.

If no one is present, will call out "Hello?"; if someone is visible, he will say, "Good evening. We need some assistance."

Upon entering the church, they could see the form of a man kneeling in prayer at the altar where three candles burned.

Hearing Zaryk, the man rose--the manner in which he did so suggested that he might have a touch of age in his legs--and he came toward them.

"Atu's peace be upon you," he said.  "I am Brother Maxim.  How may I be of assistance?"

Annya inclined her head in sincere respect to the human priest.

"Brother Maxim, I am Annya na'Veila, and this is Zaryk na'Liluth, of the Neroli people. In the course of performing some work on behalf of a number of your villagers, we chanced upon a sad matter.  One that is past due in needing address."

Annya explained honestly and carefully the encounter with the ghosts; the discovery of the children's remains, and hers and Zaryk's intent in bringing them here -- to give rest and proper passage to the forlorn spirits. As well as closure for the family
This message was last edited by the player at 00:00, Fri 25 Sept 2020.

Brother Maxim listened attentively as Annya related the tale, making a sign of warding at the talk of ghosts.

"There's been no sign of these ghosts again, once you found them, have there?" he asked, this part of the tale clearly disturbing him.  "I can lay them to rest, let folk know tonight that we'll have services tomorrow.  Will you be staying for that?"

Zaryk glances awkwardly at Annya,

"Uummm...would the service be in the morning? Early in the morning? Before Terce?

Being here to lay Craig and Sofia to rest feels like the right thing to do.

But, we left a companion to guard the cave entrance, and I an hesitant to leave him on his own for longer than necessary.

What say you, Annya?"

"More likely closer to Sext," replied Brother Maxim.  "May be best you get back to your friend, though.  Wouldn't be good, needing another funeral."

She was just a little reluctant, but not much.  Leaving Arn alone too long was a bad idea.    She nodded.

"Aye. Let's return to our comrade, Zaryk. I am betting Brother Maxim can bring peace to Craig and Sofia."   And she offered silent, short prayer to all the Elvish gods, for whatever aid they might lend.

"Thank you Brother Maxim. May the gods smile on you and yours."

As they head out of the church, Zaryk asks Annya, [Language unknown: "Ofss in paerti re Ulone tio, a plof ho? Le i et all int oul inevss e reahatica?"]

She thought briefly then said [Language unknown: "Ek pranpr Beee ai linmenwhi ectsheour be oul ngweti in manwh evect prmiin.   Ratng sa comlatlar po linwilstr il maven i nenodi wepres ioioan ietio, hoth thudayfor ounaincon nt. T rut i ulhoit evmell, Ur accase iv dipa u alnt omeil stecna ncehouhis."    ]
This message was last edited by the player at 22:13, Tue 29 Sept 2020.

Zaryk says jokingly, [Language unknown: "In nottinpro, P ertosa ne whi, hatantonsainove a riec reard peloai larestreshisher yinet ntepreous whestrshe ulivll hat!

A ekfi ieeica ratometed wil lenalang adho k e acsach oun ec plet Ro.

Neel Herurelat, a ec u olarie stretr herovewhi mi a der st!"]

Annya and Zaryk followed the track back toward the inn.  They opened the door to the common room finding the place was quite full, but there were a few chairs at one of the tables where some of the villagers they had seen before were already seated.  Many of the people were already eating their stew.  There was a low hum of chatter as people were talking about the competition and the qualifying rounds that had already been completed earlier in the day.

[Language unknown: "Ainie, ss lintheint offiat, urha ivsean tare traich-menyin a day."]   She listened to the talk about the competition, then remarked:

[Language unknown: "Tedithwas no llussa manin ughstrvorousard p moman p t her evivck, ro?   Ainar resar olulno lalefi'uswe, t O hoieun, foacac er ent arehiscomthi oulderfor illundsti."]   

She headed for the open chairs, while speaking.

Zaryk laughs.

"As I told young Kalea, this morning," he waves to get the attention of Finian's daughter, "I would be interested only if they have a category for novices!"

Taking the seat opposite Annya, Zaryk leans forward and speaks to her quietly, [Language unknown: "Th ugh rom siwiwa te liliis a wehoie il wilwi hou und ine prees leat tic ch bleno iclasa ous il yinratman ektana ivnc osetcabe.

A nd ur o tho ndeectkor ac ovethitic wepa wh a osncst reaoerven.

Atikorvorand T ratilline whul P o asnc eranonbe in pretedati onlaatic tinre hoekac ul uree be. Selang poil tistmoha pr ast ie a iolace p eknc ounticundeen ni onshering sheis."]
This message was last edited by the player at 03:06, Mon 05 Oct 2020.

Annya replied softly [Language unknown: "Tr bleforers an os buthe riti ri fongti e he.  Pl E riwati ee int poolan ma ersthaousreaeve. Intandere ilmaiv nd ti.  Mewas istare ho meanpl fowiha al lo ameverromwiltio atiit maave m ekanarmopl to miwas nclin fiti ome a erloan, ndeec wit orewe.   Ou tianus toitee andndemen satail p ckhaol pr ac il ce ble manurethinte rock mainio enicho.  K iehoch ted ersforoul mowiio dipe ceome ntpre maet wi i u ekter arpo omreal ouswitativen, E p po.  Arewh foofos str u ie es asaitinc neesplac hipo hi.   Ai vor witted-butint thpomo omis almool alarse mantiowit, ntas t ithma sa accom ted alcece lileev o amemenest evna wasom."] She paused a moment.

[Language unknown: "Ut a iv...erbe, Os ieoer m ticamekor waroll u ri ee to la ecac.  Th he li notticnti, P eral ectma t io rednd dinan ro poun pl i we ekred. A Reaounart intnceour hafoas ous omla, T ma ilwadi."   ]
This message was last edited by the player at 19:24, Sun 04 Oct 2020.

Zaryk is taken by the power in Annya's oath...for a moment she seems more than an elf, but the moment is gone in a blink of an eye.

[Language unknown: "Enany rea elio i tr, Bleatebut nti I on t o und ho."]

Unless Annya has anything of importance to discuss, Zaryk will spend the rest of the meal speaking of the food, and other small talk regarding the village. He will also ensure that Tally is with him when it is time to retire.

---

Cost for meal, two cups of wine, and a room for the night?

She was in fact only an elf, if in that particular moment a very dedicated and determined one, and smiled her very mortal appreciation for his pledge of aid: [Language unknown:  "Eten ssres ate, Inewilove plhaniol, riwi icpl ai shereaainugh astorefor."  ]

There were no more weighty matters that she wished to broach, and was more than content with the lighter conversation, till it was time to turn in.

Yep, give us the damages, and I think we're ready to move to the following dawn. 

Cost of meal, room for the night, two glasses of wine with evening meal and a breakfast in the morning would set you back a total of 3 asil.

Rising early, and before breaking her fast, Annya got up and went to pay homage to bountiful Veja, as well as to pray for a new allotment of spells.

No one prayed to Veja indoors -- to do so would verge on sacrilege.  Thus she went out, to the border of the village proper.  Seeking perhaps a small stand of trees, or a single one, or a patch of wild flowers, or a pond, or some other facet of the natural world which happened to be proximate, and not overtly on anybody's property.

Kneeling nearby, she meditated then chanted softly, before whispering formal prayer.  Limned in the initial rays of dawn, her white locks acquired an almost fiery tint; not unlike the shade with which the Neroli people identified themselves.   In close, she spoke gratitude to each of the gods, one by one.  For the many were also a whole, much as Nature's facets blended and thrived together.

Done, she went back to the inn to retrieve all of her things, and see if Zaryk and Tally were about, and readied to leave.

Zaryk will spend some time in his room perusing his spellbook, prior to coming down for breakfast.

Once he and Annya have had their meal; he will pack a little bite for Arn, and they can head back to the cave with Tally leading the way.

If kitty spots a mouse, we cry Tally-ho! and chase it down.   ;)

Good on you for thinking of food for Arn...back to the mines it is... 

Following the way that they had marked out, carrying the meal that had been packed up for Arn's consumption, Annya and Zaryk were able to make fairly decent time in their return to the mines.

"Arn, there you are! And none the worse from appearance.

I've brought you a bit of a meal; unfortunately it's cold.

Any signs of sheep or sheep maruaders overnight?"

For several long moments there is only silence. Then, however, there is a rustling sound in the forest, the sound of leaves being moved, branches being bent and footsteps. Out from amongst the trees and undergrowth steps Arn. He appears dirty, with bits of wood and leaves at various places on his clothing and in his hair.

"A cold meal will do just fine," he says appreciatively, his stomach grumbling. As he waits for Zaryk to retrieve and and give him his breakfast, he relates his experiences of the past evening and night. "Unfortunately, I saw no sheep or signs of sheep marauders. If they use this cave entrance here, they didn't use it last night though I suppose it's possible they might have snuck in or out while I was sleeping. They would have had to have been very quiet, though, as I'm a light sleeper and have been on guard since I was attacked. Were there any reports of disappearances this morning?"

"I do need to tell you, there appear to be a colony of carnivorous bats that use this cave. A group of them flew out in the evening. Most of them ignored me but 2 of them flew down and came after me. I was eventually able to drive them off but it was a bit unnerving. They were very aggressive. What of you? How did things go? Did you find news of the parents?"

As he eats, he listens to the stories of his companions.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:55, Tue 20 Oct 2020.

Relieved to see Arn okay, Annya related to him what had occurred during the short trip.

"We placed the matter into the hands of their local minister," she informed him.  "I confess, my first priority is far and away the lost spirits themselves.   And thus the choice of their priest, to which Zaryk seemed to agree.  More, he knows his community in ways we do not, and is a trusted, familiar face to them.   I would hope he will broach the issue in the best manner that is possible. But," she shrugged, "as to what ripples tossing that rock into the water will make, it remains to be seen."   
This message was last edited by the player at 17:43, Wed 21 Oct 2020.

Once Arn has finished his cold breakfast, Zaryk will ask, "Shall we return to the cave and see if we can solve the mystery of the missing sheep?

We should try to avoid waking the giant bats which are likely nesting in the first cavern after the narrow tunnel."

Arn yawns before saying, "I'm not sure those bats were the same as what attacked me but yes, I'm ready to go back"
This message was last edited by the player at 15:00, Sun 25 Oct 2020.

Okay, then let's do it...

After Arn had eaten, the group made their way back into the caverns, after pausing a few moments to allow their eyes to adjust to the dimness of the cavern from the bright daylight outside.

The path that led past the area where they had found the remains had had signs of sheep being taken through the area, and there was also the unexplored territory to the left from the large cavern where--peering up into the crevices, it seemed there were sleeping bats or some sort of winged creature.

Just before entering the dark cavern, Zaryk says, "I suggest we head to the right in the hallway...following the trail of the sheep."

"Agreed," Arn says quietly. He stifles a yawn and keeps his eyes on the large cavern to the left where the bats or batlike creatures were hanging.

Annya nodded her concurrence, strung her bow and took it to hand, with an arrow ready to be nocked --  likewise being as alert as possible for any of the creatures Arn had spoken of.

Following the passage they had traversed before, the group by-passed the turn they had made to the meandering tunnels where the remains of the children had been.  The passage continued straight, although the eweberries became fewer and less evident (perhaps those sheep had finally pooped themselves out!).  It seemed that they had gone a considerable distance more than they had from the caverns at the entrance to the turn off when they came to a well-mortared wall with a door set in the middle of it.

This door looked to be in pretty good condition--even perhaps repaired recently.  While the lock was visibly broken, it looked rather securely shut.

"I think we may have found our sheep-nappers," Zaryk whispers to his companions.

"Do we try to enter? Or do we try to lure them out?

My Unseen Servant spell could knock on the door, while we sit in ambush. Or something else?"

Arn holds up his hand, indicating for his companions to wait. He then proceeds to inspect the door, looking for any signs of wires, tiny switches, pressure plates or similar triggering mechanisms.

OOC:
Find Traps: 25%
Does he find.any traps?

"I like that tactic," she replied to Zaryk, "and am for it, if friend Arn finds no traps to trouble us."   

In his examination of the door, Arn did not find anything which appeared out of place or otherwise suggestive of a trap.

Arn puts his ear to the door, listening for any sounds beyond.

OOC:
Detect Noise: 15%

This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 15:18, Sat 14 Nov 2020.

As Arn listened, he did not hear anything through the door.  Close examination told that the door would open away from the group into the space beyond--other than that, it seemed that there was nothing much to tell about what might be found on the other side.

Arn backs away from the door and whispers to the others,"no traps as far as I can tell nor did I have anything beyond."

With that he readies his sword as he waits for the others.

Zaryk speak the arcane words, Invisibilis Servus, and then picks up a stone and hands it to the air!

"Knock on the door with the stone, if it opens, drop the stone and then follow me," he instructs.

The elf then nocks an arrow, and aims at the door.

---

Cast Unseen Servant.
Hopefully, if the door is opened, the rock falling will draw whatever is in there, out.

Already familiar with the Servus Nocanseeit, Annya watched as the arcane tactic was played, and likewise stood poised, with arrow nocked.

The stone floated over to the door, striking the door in a knock.  The door, however, remained closed and the stone remained hovering.

"Knock five more times; drop the rock when the door opens." Zaryk commands his servant.

"Well, if this doesn't get a response, we can probably assume no one's home."

"Or it's just sheep in there," Arn adds quietly with a yawn. Despite the danger, he had to work to keep himself fully alert, tired as he was, especially after eating the tasty breakfast the other had brought to him, cold as it had been.

The whole thing didn't make sense. Why would anyone bring sheep down into a cave? Surely they wouldn't survive down here very long unless there was some type of fungus they took a hankering to, he says to himself though the idea seemed far-fetched. More likely some type of mutton kitchen. But for whom? Unless it was to feed an army. A chill struck him for a moment but he quickly dismissed the thought. There had been no signs of invaders. In fact, no signs of humans, humanoids or demi-humans at all! Only bats and apparitions of long dead children! The whole thing made no sense.

The rock moved again, knocking five more times against the door.  However, whether it was that no one was home or that no one was expected, the door did not open, and the rock remained, quivering aloft.

"Will nothing go our way" Zaryk rhetorically complains.

"Shall we simply walk in then?"

Arn nods. "Probably no one in there," he says.

Zaryk commands his Unseen Servant to follow him (with the rock).

He steps to the door, and carefully checks to see if it is unlocked, and if so, he unlatches it, and pushes it open with the tip of his sword, taking care to stand as far to the side as he can.

Annya likewise stepped aside, bow still pulled and at the ready...

Happy holidays, people - just two more weeks till X-mas! ;D Hope everyone is well - suspect we're just experiencing the usual seasonal slow-down...

While the others are focused on entering the room, Arn takes a few moments to turn his head and look back down the passageway from which they came. Once he verifies it is clear, he returns his focus forward and, sword drawn, prepares to enter the room with the others.

OOC:
Happy Holidays to you too and everyone as well. Encouraging everyone to stay safe!

Merry Xmas and a Happy New Year to everyone!

I have to believe that there is no way but up for 2021!

Stay safe.

The door opened rather grudgingly, but as soon as the door had cleared the opening, a blade came rolling across from left to right and then back into the slot that had been hidden by the door's presence.  ((Save vs DEX to avoid)).

Beyond, a rougher passageway could be seen, and the sounds of dripping water could be heard in the distance.  For the moment, though, it seemed no one else was present in the immediate vicinity.

Zaryk is startled as the blade slices across the doorway.

"Not very welcoming, whoever they are."

---

17:06, Today: Zaryk na'Liluth rolled 9 using 1d20 for DEX save roll, no adjustments.

I assume it is roll under DEX score, so, Zaryk is good?

Correct -- save vs attribute is a "golf" roll.  Regular saving throws (like vs spell) are "bowling".

---

A small lever was adjacent to the door on the far side from the group's entry point to the caves, on what was the right side when facing back the way the group had come.

Arn slowly steps forward and carefully inspects the now triggered trap. "Quick reflexes are the best way to avoid traps," he comments.

Despite his words, he silently reproaches himself for missing the trap though. His membership in this party might be questioned if his utility was in doubt. He was glad, though, that Zaryk didn't seem too put off by it. It probably helped that the mechanism missed it's intended target. Glad it didn't go off when I had my ear on the door. 

"I wonder what the trap was put in place to protect?"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:53, Mon 14 Dec 2020.

Annya briefly gasped and gaped as the devious trap sprung into deadly motion.

"Ay! You've got height to spare, sir Shadowtop. But that isn't the way you'd want to lose any!" 

And as to Arn's query: "That is the question, isn't it?"  She momentarily took the shaft from her bow, then dug into her pouch for a copper coin.

Which she tossed through the open door, out into the rough hewn passageway beyond...