Tusk frowns slightly. One man, with a few days' head start, was potentially wandering alone in the Rimewood.

He takes a pull of his ale, listening intently.

"What can you give us for a description of this fellow? What does he look like, and who might he associate with?"

Carlton says, "He's skinny, has thin, grey hair and a big nose. He carries around a lute decorated with carvings of leaves and vines. He'll associate with anyone who wants to listen or talk about flora and fauna. Jessop at the store said he was gearing up for a trip to a place called 'The Columns of the Land,' or some such. Finnious was, that is. Jessop's smart enough not to spend more time outside the town walls than he must. "
This message was last updated by the player at 19:13, Mon 17 May 2021.

Tusk keeps nursing his ale, taking in everything that Carlton is saying.

"Right; is there anything else that we should be aware of, or know about him? Any last words of advice before we talk to Jessop?"

Elisar applauded warmly as Carlton finished his song. “Ahhh, the Ballad of Bon and Denore, what a tale! You performed it most beautifully, sir!”

He accepted the proffered ale and drank deeply, listening carefully to the tale of the missing fellow. When Carlton had finished he piped in, “I must confess that I have not heard of your friend, or these Columns of the Land you speak of. A most intriguing mystery, we must discover more.”

Izayah listened to the description and scratched his chin a little. He hesitated for a moment and then gave a small shrug. It couldn't be helped he didn't think. His eyebrows rose up, "Just t'be clear...what race is this person?" He didn't want to assume 'halfling' when it wasn't said, despite the race of the speaker. It was rude to do otherwise.

"Finnious? he's human. He's a bit shorter than you," he says to Izayah.
"As far as advice? Uh... be careful?"
This message was last updated by the player at 19:13, Mon 17 May 2021.

"Thanks for this," Tusk says as he stands, indicating his half-full mug. He picks up the drink a final time and throws the rest back, wiping the foam from his beard onto the back of his hand.

"Don't worry; we'll find your friend."

With that, he grabs his belongings and heads for the door, so they can talk to Jessop.

Izayah gave a nod to the halfling. "Thanks! Didn't want t'assume human or halfling or...whatever." He flashed a quick smile.

He looked at Tusk, that he'd just met, and then slowly stood as well. "Alright. Guess we're off t'see Jessop. Take care."

And he headed out as well.

Elisar stood up and performed a theatrical bow. “Sir, never fear, we will find your missing friend, I swear it.” With that he turned and followed his friend, Izayah, and the burly-looking dwarf out of the door. As they headed to Jessop’s store he caught up with the pair. Sidling up alongside the dwarf he greeted him warmly. “Sir, I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced. I am Elisar, called the Moonraven, a humble singer of songs and teller of tales. It irks me gravely that a brother performer has gone missing, so find out what happened to him we must.”

———> To Jessops

The little green man wanders in backwards, mouth agape at the flourishing man and his companion dwarf leaving. "That's awesome!" He says to no one in particular before tripping on a chair leg and tumbling backwards into the bar counter. With a little work, he manages to both right himself and finds the footstool from earlier. Standing on it, his eyes clear the counter and a hand places a leather pouch on the top.

"I've been told this is where I sleep." He states, before stepping down from his perch and rolling up on the floor like a ball.

Luckily, someone is both able to give him back most of his money, less what is owed for the room, and point him in the direction of an actual room.

-3 gp for a night's stay, and a long rest to level up

It was mid morning when the door to the inn swung wide, Verbannt observing his usual caution before walking in. His massive form filled the doorway, and he called out with a gentle rumble.

"Matriarch Darla, it is Verbannt."

He announced himself, waiting a few moments longer before stepping in. It was not exactly that he expected to draw screams of anger and fear, in his short time within the town he had seen more fantastical things than he could count. Still, old habits died hard, and he was used to Goblins and his kin drawing strong reactions from the other races.

"I would purchase a feast, if you would take my coin. It has been many a night out in the wilds, and the comforts of your kitchen would serve me well."

He stepped in, and looking about found himself an empty table.

A genasi entered the building shortly after the bugbear, they had traveled here together it would seem.

Unlike his towering companion, the medium-sized but powerfully-built genasi didn't say anything to Darla, simply taking a seat and waiting for the food to come. In truth, he wasn't entitled, just still not used to restaurants of any kind. Back home, the only place you could get food was at the market, and you still had to make it yourself. Places where food was made and served to you were a new concept, to him.

"The drinks of last night still rage in my blood" the genasi complained, rubbing the side of his head, which was sore. "I am happy to enjoy first food with just you though, friend Lukas." the genasi admitted.

In truth, Tidelan had long felt a strong comradery with the individual named Lukas, and was extremely happy to finally be allowed to call him as 'friend'. Matters of the heart had never been the genasi's strong suit, and he was never sure what attitude was appropriate in this strange, foreign culture.

Back home, men would show each other lots of affection without any discomfort. The same was true for women. Well, neither were true in his family, but he wouldn't think of them this morning because that would only ruin his mood.

For him personally, Tidelan felt that simply being near Lukas made him happy. He didn't feel like it was a romantic attitude, but he felt his bonds with the few warriors that he had recently started to call 'friend' ran deeper than a simple rapport.

If Tidelan had been more knowledgeable about the Common language, the right word to use could be either "Comrade", "Companion" or "Compatriot". Instead, he had long used the term 'friend of war', which was too difficult to pronounce, and so he had gotten permission to call some of those from his main group "friend"

To Tidelan, they were his Sworn Friends. He would hope to die, in their place so that they could continue to live.

This was all to say that this much conviction and devotion were in the tone behind his mild words. Anyone could tell that he spoke very deeply, even for mundane matters. A strong sense of importance was almsot always present as an undertone when he spoke, because Tidelan did not hide his emotions from the world. He had done so before, but he was not that weak now.

It was difficult for many to read Verbannt's expressions, for the Bugbear's furred face was inscrutable to many who were not used to dealing with the various examples of Goblinkind. It was the muzzle, even more than the fur, that generally threw them off. Smiles and grimaces, frowns and gasps, these things were difficult to translate between species. Those who had spent time with him eventually learned that his furrowed brows and yellowed eyes were capable of expressing a great deal, and that Verbannt did little to attempt to hide his innermost thoughts from his features. His people had encouraged such things, the Matriarchs of his former clan believing that secrets among blood kin were a pestilence that should never be allowed to take root.


In truth, he had been hurting to not be among those with whom he could share his thoughts freely. Tidelan's heartfelt expression of raw emotion had been a relief to him, permission for his own heart's thoughts to come free. Verbannt had drank deeply the night before, but not so deeply that he would suffer for it in the morning. Yet despite that, he looked haggard to Tidelan's experienced eyes.  The bags underneath his eyes were more pronounced, and his muzzle was tight around his fangs, with just the hint of a quiver.  Something was amiss then.

"Friend Tidelan..."

He matched the Genasi's greeting, though it pained him for what he had to say next.

"I do not mean to be grim when we are supposed to be celebrating our successful hunt, but I have not rested easy since our return. There is a truth that you should know, one that I have kept from you."

His voice was heavy and laden.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:06, Wed 28 July 2021.

Before breakfast had even arrived, the two were already into intense conversation.

Taking a deep breath, the genasi exhaled as he leaned forward to gaze steadfastly at the bugbear across from him. While the genasi was happy with himself for having learned to read many of the unfamiliar facial features, he still got most of his cues from the tone of voice, which despite deep pitch had both a better vernacular than the genasi himself, and also an equal amount of capability to express tones.

His posture had immediately matched Verbannt's. It did not hold any traces of particular emotion, because he did not yet hold this man's memories. For now, it just showed absolute attention, but also an almost aggressive expectation to hear the meaning behind this.

Tidelan felt that 'keeping a secret' could mean many, many things. In truth, it could be the difference between friends and foes, but Tidelan felt there were few truths from Lukas' past or even present that would influence Tidelan in such a way. Nevertheless, he felt it was vital to hear the story in full, before processing it's significance.

The barbarian steeled his stomach and tightened his jaw. It was good he hadn't eaten breakfast yet, now it would be easy to divert all the physiological attention that the body gave to digestion, and he could place it directly in the back of his head. A burning fire to highlight a moment of incredible importance.

If there were any great monks in the crowd, they'd probably see a pretty intense aura emanating from the Genasi right about now.

Most oddly perhaps is that Tidelan did not speak. Historically, he had been very particular with his words for matters he deemed important. In truth however, this was exactly on par with Tidelan's ideology.

Honor versus the heart. It was something that was at the core of Annwn, which he always felt so strangely pulled to imitate and impress, despite his clear subjugation by Gaea.

In matters on this end of the soul's duality, it would not be right to speak. Instead, all those usual words and their great cryptic meaning were captured in his own heart and mind, and perhaps - if such a thing existed or was available to him to tap into - his everlasting soul itself.

Verbannt maintained eye contact, not shying away from this revelation.

"Skinwalkers are not uncommon, among the Bugbears of the South. Each of the Matriarchs possesses such Lore."

He began, and though his tone was calm, Tidelan could see the tension on Verbannt's features as he spoke.

"All are tested for the gift, when they come of age. The first hunt, they taste the blood of their prey, be it moose, elk, bear, fox, great cat, or wolf."

The Genasi likely noted that Verbannt never refered to them as "his people," even though they surely had been. It was as if he was telling the tale of another clan, another tribe.

"It is mixed with the blood of their Matriarchs. The blood, you see. The Lore is in the Blood.

He grasped Tidelan's wrist, leaning close as he spoke to ensure the man understood.

"I was not a Skinwalker when I came here, I had been trained in the Lore of Hunters, though I had been tested. But when I saw you, I had not known that any outside of the Southern Tribes possessed such Lore. I took something of yours, something that I had not earned by blade or talon. I had thought nothing of it, as at the time, I had thought nothing of you. Jealousy, perhaps, that you were possessed of that which I had been denied. When the Hobgoblins spilled your blood upon the snow, I took it. I do not understand how, but it was that taking which awoke the Gift within me. It should not have, where the blood of a Matriarch failed. It was the wish of a mewling child that brought me to do it, and to my wonder and my shame it worked. I do not know, but with each walking I feel the shame of it. Now, now my dreams are of blood, blood seeping into the ground. Your blood, my blood, the blood of many. I do not know why I have such visions, I do not know if somehow I have bound us in this deception, but I wanted you to know. Dark omens and bloodied thorns, that is what I see."

He stared levelly, never flinching as he described his innermost thoughts.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:06, Thu 29 July 2021.

As Lukas - no, Verbannt - spoke of those who he had once belonged to, Tidelan understood better now why he did not use the name 'Lukas'. The barbarian made a mental note to use the proper name, even in his own mind. He also recalled having promised in his heart to do so previously. Wait, hadn't he addressed him as 'Friend Lukas' this morning? That had been a mistake!

Then, the bugbear showed his conviction and intent as he leaned forward and grabbed Tidelan's wrist. The genasi did not stop him, he trusted the man that this was important enough to warrant a show of force. Among warriors, this much was okay.

Then, came the revelations that Verbannt had suffered and held for so long. Tidelan traced his story with a path through his own memories. Yes, back when they had first come to town, the bugbear had not shown his ability to Skinwalk. Tidelan had never considered this, and had assumed that like himself, the bugbear had been blessed by the strength that protecting this town provided and gained the power recently just as Tidelan had.

That had been incorrect, Tidelan now learned. Verbannt had gained the same power as Tidelan by the taking of his blood. The genasi recalled being felled by the hobgoblins on one of his first battles. He hated that moment, not because it hurt, but because it had steered too close to a destiny where he was not who he was now. Back then, he had still been the young man who had fled his homeland and sailed on open waters for months and months... that boy had no strength, and no magic... He hadn't been touched by Annwn, let alone Gaea... It wasn't until his time in the forest that he had ascended to his position. But still, he hadn't found his pride and his sense of power until he had found himself drawn to battle with those whom were now 'friends'.

Taking of the blood... What did that mean? Perhaps Verbannt had drunk it, or ingested it from the snow? Perhaps it was something he had done in his mind or soul, and not with his body? It hurt slightly to hear that Verbannt had not thought of him as anything, and that he had been jealous. But, that was not betrayal. Tidelan had not considered many people whom he now thought of as worthy fighters.

As he listened, he was reminded of a man named Victor who had recently come to town. Tidelan had not thought of him as much, because those that came here were never as strong as he.

Yet, he had seen Victor fight and realized he held strength, and would get stronger too.

Thus, in his words and in his heart, Tidelan did not agree that it was wrong to think lowly of the weak. It was wrong to be cruel, but you could not tell a titan that he was the same as a bug. If one was above another, they should act how they see fit. Tidelan thought the most moral thing was to protect the weak, but he did not consign everyone to that fate. As long as they did not stir evil in his home, he would leave them be.

With just that, Tidelan made peace with Verbannt's previous opinion of him. It was not wrong now that they were friends, because it had not been wrong of him then.

Next, the bugbear explained how wrong it was for the genasi's blood to awaken a gift which should not have been present. Tidelan almost smiled despite the scenario, but held it back. His blood was superior to the fabled Matriarchs of Verbannt's people? This made him very proud, yet it also filled him with worry as Verbannt's next words came.

He told of dreams of blood, thorns and darkness. Those were prophetic dreams of evil, then. It could not be clear if they were real omens, or just guilt manifest. Perhaps neither, and simply the flights of fancy that the mind often went through as it passed through the realm of the Fey, where dreams and reality intermingled.

Verbannt seemed worried, and so Tidelan was as well. If they had been bound to see this darkness together, Tidelan could not blame the bugbear. He had not acted with the intent for this, and so it was what was called 'an unforeseen mistake'. Still, it was clear his intentions had been bad, but the two were not equivalent. One could not demand a sinner accept all the sins of the world, surely?

Tidelan thought in quiet for a while before answering. "That is much thoughts for me to speak of." he admitted. It was hard for him to organize enough words in this language to communicate, and so it took him time when speaking with Honor. Though, when speaking from the Heart, it must be okay to relax on those things?

Thus, Tidelan spoke next in a strange way, "Vanelvar, " then Tidelan emitted a sound of absolute rage, but it was muffled as though it wasn't true "you puer your lepala cernos, Verbannt. It is not nelyo puervo to casva your cernos, " then Tidelan emitted a noise that sounded how pleading felt, like your heart was burning, like a wet flame in the front of your self overbearing and with an anticipative tone. It was a strange sound, clearly Primordial.

He paused and thought, "Puer your, " a heady and soft rush of air came from his lips, causing dizziness, "Valo " a sound of aggressive fires "venyou, friend Verbannt."

Finally, the genasi stopped and seemed to realize how stupid his words sounded. He gave a sad smile, and cleared his throat, speaking slowly as he built the sentence as he went. "Ah, my heart words are not beautiful for the ears. I desire that you believe they are beautiful in my heart." the genasi looked sad, likely because he could never share a sentiment without diluting it through words he did not connect with. "I do not desire you to have shame for me. If my blood does help my friends, I will bleed a lake." Tideland smiles, and his eyes shine with affection.

"If your dreams do give you fear, I believe you can kill them. Kill any truth that is from your dreams. If you dream that you spill blood that you do not desire to spill, in truth, you must not spill that blood. Your heart is of yours, Verbannt, no care if your honor is not."

Darla comes in and smiles, and says, "5 silver each for the meals. You can pick 'em up at the counter. Just so you know, Carmen over at the Dragon's Den sells our food now, too, that's why the place ain't as full as it was. The guests like the quiet here, you know."

"I..."

Verbannt shook his head as if clearing it, placing a gold coin upon the table and then waiting for Darla to take it and leave.

"I am not speaking well, friend Tidelan. Among the Southern Tribes, blood is power. It is... it is something that must be earned. That was why I did not wish to fight Brohm of Clan Stonehelm, when I tried my tongue at deception and paid the price for my words. Among the Southern Tribes, such a duel would include a Taking. He would have earned the right with his victory to taste my blood, to take what power he could of it. That is why the Matriarchs are so respected, they have mastered the old Lore, they can give their blood to those who are worthy without weakening themselves."

He held up a hand, forestalling.

"I do not think I have weakened you with my shadowed deed, I know not how or why, but I had no right to make you take such a risk."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:42, Tue 03 Aug 2021.

Tidelan thought a while on Verbannt's words. Clearly this had been a great shame the bugbear had been carrying. Yet, Tidelan could find nothing wrong with what he had done. He simply didn't have the same history to be able to see it in a negative light.

Though, he had clearly done something which he knew he should not have done. Knowing this, Tidelan thought this had to be addressed with the respect his friend deserved.

"I did not know of this blood, before now. I can not say with full truth that I understand your wrong, but I do know you have made one." he thought for a moment.

"I would just forgive it, but if I do so, you could still have the guilt..." Tidelan pondered aloud.

"Then, to heal you of this self-given wound, you must make up for this wrong you did me by doing me rights." Tidelan explained

"To you, is this fair? This is an oath of the heart, not one of any honor." Tidelan made sure to get his friends consent, because right now he was proposing for Verbannt to make up his mind to pay back Tidelan in order to clear his own guilt.

Verbannt let out a heavy sigh, feeling a great weight that had been building for a long time release.

"You are wise indeed, friend Tidelan. A heart oath and a boon. Such would mean much to me."

He leaned back in his seat, breathing easier than he had in longer than he could remember.

"When you call for it, I will fulfill my debt. I will pay whatever is owed. Whatever it may be."

Tidelan nods and gives a small smile, placing his two fists together in a familiar Farradi gesture of respect and solidarity, and reclining into his seat as well. Content, finally, to eat his slightly cooled breakfast.

When the intense morning meal ended, Tidelan would make himself scarce after saying farewell to his sworn friend. Though both their weights had been lifted, the heart was not like the honor, and it was dependent on time. So, like proper druids, Tidelan thought best that they both reflect upon what had been shared.

He also had pseudo-business to do, what with his second tournament beginning soon!

The man slowly enters the building, pausing after struggling to both open and close the sturdy door. He looks around, leaning against the door for support, taking in the sights, the sounds and the smells. There is a small smile on his face as he drinks it all in. "wonderful."

He drags his frail body to the counter and hesitates, but then speaks, his voice still a little hoarse and quiet. "Greetings...to you. I would like...a room...and something to...eat and drink...if I could." He hastened to add, "I have coin." He carefully opens a pouch at his belt as he asks, "How much...is a room? And a meal, please? Or...just a meal?"

"That'll be three gold and that covers the room, 3 meals, and a drink with each of those meals." Darla greet the new customer with a smile.

The man looks shocked, visibly, at the news, eyes wide and mouth agape for a moment before stammering, "Th-three? So m-much??" His eyes slide down to his pouch and then back up to the proprietress of the inn.

He swallows and composes himself once more. "My apologies for the...outburst. I did not realize...how...expensive things are here." The way he says it sounds like more than just the inn, perhaps even the town.

He then pulls three gold coins out of the pouch and hands them over. "I...shall have to...find some way to make more money I suppose." He lets out a breath. "And soon."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:11, Tue 28 Sept 2021.

"Well then Smith would be the man to talk to. He's the governor here and he resides in the town hall. Though, I would say talk a look at the job board that hangs out front of it first, that way you have an idea of what job you wanna take up when you talk to him."