After arranging for bedding and private rooms with the Larissa, you are shown to separate accommodations. The rooms are small, and for the 5 copper you pay you get a bed for one, fresh straw and a pair of heavy blankets, one to cover you from the straw, and the second one to cover you against the cold. A pitcher of water and a chamber pot are your only companions, aside from the view out of the small shuttered window. The evening rain persists for a few more hours, and you all fall asleep to the sound of drops hitting the roof and side of the tavern.

The next morning you pick up some breakfast, gather your belongings and head out to the town round.

You walk through the town towards the center, following the main road. A few windows open as you pass and inquisitive faces follow your passage wordlessly. A few smile and wave, others simply stare, or frown, at the "strangers in town". The round is a circle of open space roughly in the center of Emberdell. A large well rests in the middle, around which mill several women, talking among themselves in a lively way. Several smaller buildings are set around the well at an even distance, and a larger two-story one with large doors stands to the north of the round. Several guards mill about the entrance, laughing to themselves.

Your questions reveal that you can find Master Garrel in the larger building, which is the town's hall. As you enter, you are greeted with a large open space and several doors to the right. Past the first door you enter a hallway, and are invited into a separate clerk's room by a young woman, Master Garrel's secretary.

Master Garrel, a man of advanced age for a human, with silver hair and beard, sits behind a large elm desk, framed by several bookshelves filled with scrolls and a few tomes, along with a lamp, several quills, and a bottle of ink. He dresses in clerical robes of green with red and yellow embroidered accents. He wears a large hat under a perpetually frowning face. As you approach, he says,

"Another set of applicants."

He exhales his frustrations.

"Good, good." He opens a large drawer to his right, the bottom most, and pulls a large leather folio to the top of the desk. He meticulously unties the knots, unfolds the leather covers, and pages through the hand-written announcements kept in it.

"You are here for the bounties? Yes? I hope you have better luck than the others before you," he comments with an almost cynical tone, although you thought it may have had a slight glint of hope in it.

He picks several of the vellums and begins to scan them.

"Yes, yes... this is right..."

He clears his throat loudly a few times before launching into the words with a formal tone.

"By order of the court of the magistracy, the free town of Emberdell hereby requests the service of mercenaries for the purposes of ... ah! whatever... drivel, drivel...," Master Garrel spits out in impatience.

"Look, the job's simple. Get rid of the goblins, the orcs, the ogres, and anything else you find out there. It pays well. 10 gp a goblin head, 20 gp for each orc head, and 200 gp for the head of the ogres.

You want the job?"

He looks up at all of you, peering through old suspicious narrowed eyes that have probably seen more than 60 winters.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:12, Fri 01 May 2020.

"Ay, we'll give it a try too." he nods to Garrel. "Nice bounties, big job?"

"Yes," replied Aila.  "It sounds interesting enough.  Do you require the whole head, or some other proof?"

"Ears for instance?" Angus asks.

A pitcher of water and a chamber pot are your only companions

Petar serenades his two room-mates languidly, feeling tiredness and still a bit of awkwardness from the end of the night's events.  In his dreams, he is the Lost Orc, feeling first the terror of capture and then the animal exhiliration of the final inhuman battles.  Ugh, what a nightmare!

A few smile and wave, others simply stare, or frown, at the "strangers in town".

After a big breakfast (always prone to skip meals, Petar has learned on the road to eat while the eating's to be had), the elf returns all smiles and waves with similar, and tries to cheer the frowning with a wink as well.  No point in a grimace when a grin will do!  To the others he chit chats amiably, inquiring about their plans for the day.

"Look, the job's simple. Get rid of the goblins, the orcs, the ogres, and anything else you find out there. It pays well. 10 gp a goblin head, 20 gp for each orc head, and 200 gp for the head of the ogres.

You want the job?"

It struck Petar that this pay was high.  Did that mean the dangers were similarly great, even impossible?  He had questions - where were these creatures, how many tribes, who in town had tangled with them lately and could they interview and learn more - but the Elder's brusque manner forestalls any queries.

Instead, Petar merely nods, letting the others speak for now.

Phelan, axe in hand as if she were expecting the foes to be waiting just outside the town hall, gives one nod in agreement. My axe has been idle too long. she mutters to herself as she wonders how many heads she can fit in the bags in her pack.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:13, Fri 01 May 2020.

"Me have no odder reason fur bein here. But to cleav me sum snarks, count me in." The meaty woman looks on with glee.

Master Garrel peers at the woman who spoke last, narrowing his eyes a bit more until he realizes what he's looking at.

"Hmmph... you are a strong one, aren't you? You can fight?" But then he spots the hilts over her shoulder. His perpetual frown turns into a knowing smile, albeit gruff.

"Good. Good! You are going to need it. And yes," turning to Angus, "you can bring back ears, if you want, but heads are better.

Now...", he turns one of the vellum sheets around and presents it to you. You see a list of names and a few Xs. You can count 14 entries in this list.

"... sign your name or make your mark and you will be joining the ranks of the sanctioned hunters of Emberdell.

Here you go."

He pushes the bottle of ink towards you and lays a quill next to the vellum.

While you are all signing the sheet, he walks to one of the bookshelves next to his table. From the top most partition he pulls a long rolled-up paper and spreads it over the remaining table space. On it is a casually drawn map of Emberdell and its surroundings.

"This is what we have... here", he points to the south-south-east, "are where most of the goblin reports have been made. More than a dozen sightings, and some have been killed, but not all. Others like you have gone out there and brought a few heads in, but they haven't come back. They are nuisances, coming in late and stealing supplies, tools, grains. They also take livestock."

Pointing to the north-west, and drawing his finger in an upper semi-circle to the north-east, he adds,

"Here are the orcs. They are coming down from the mountains and hills. Not so many now, but maybe more tomorrow. Something's got them stirred up, and now they are coming here."

Pointing to the west-north-west hills and mountains he continues,

"This is where the ogres are. They keep coming down to the outskirts and steal a sheep, a cow, or something else. We can't have that going on. We need to let them know they are not welcome.

Now, if you find yourselves along the road", he points to the eastern road over which most of you arrived, "keep a eye out for the robbers. We have our guard patrolling day and night, but they are clever and have eluded the patrols so far. If you find them, bring them in so they can stand trial. But I don't think they will surrender."

Pointing to the south-eastern forest he adds,

"This is where I think they are, but searching the woods is bad. Ambushes. Easy ones. If you choose to go there, keep your eyes open. There's more there than just bandits. Wild pigs, bears, wolves. Dangerous. And bugs... spiders, beetles, angry faeries. But a good hiding place."

As you finish signing your names, he blows on the sheet lightly to dry the ink. Then he takes a blotter and picks up the small stray droplets left behind.

"Good... good. Welcome to the hunters. You are now ready to head out and make a name for yourselves. Do you have any questions?"

Despite his gruff demeanor, Master Garrel manages a smile.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:58, Mon 04 May 2020.

You see a list of names and a few Xs. You can count 14 entries in this list.

Scanning the list quickly, Petar tries to commit the names to memory.  Always good to know who the friendly competition was!

On it is a casually drawn map of Emberdell and its surroundings.

Petar gets quite excited when he sees this, not taking his forest green eyes off of it the whole time the old man is talking.  Goblins here, orcs and ogres there.  He frowns a little when told the eastern road was highwaymen territory.  The fellows giving directions in the last village hadn't mentioned that at all!

"Good... good. Welcome to the hunters. You are now ready to head out and make a name for yourselves. Do you have any questions?"

Yes indeed, quite a few questions.  Who were the top hunters?  What was the record for bounties?  What did the guard do with all those heads?  Strangely enough, perhaps, Petar keeps his peace .. for about ten seconds.

When he does speak, Petar finds his normally glib manner falters somewhat under the stern gaze.  "Ahem, Master Garrel, sir, we heard, ah, talk yesterday in the Sleeping Owl that the young priestess, Camille, had suffered some loss?  Was there anything else you can tell us?  Or where we can speak to her?  Directions to the temple, perhaps?"

The idea of bringing back great big bags of bloody heads was fine and all, he supposed, but helping the local Cleric just seemed as .. no .. more important, not to mention what kind of story this might become !  Petar finds he's holding his breath on Garrel's reply.

Angus nods to Petar's query, it was a good question. Goblins first, easier to kill them.

Angus signed in a spidery cursive hand.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:14, Mon 04 May 2020.

"When you say the heads are better," Aila said, "is the bounty reduced for only ears?"

Getting the information seemed relatively significant--a sack could hold far more ears than heads, but if it were going to reduce the bounty, it seemed much more sensible to go for the whole head.

She had signed her name with a graceful script, with a glance through the legible names already on the page before her.

Phelan signs her name and then nods and grunts in agreement with Angus about the goblins.

Marille rubbed her chin for a moment, then signed her name as well for the goblinkin. In her mind the fighter thought Bettr'n fur numbers than tu be alun.

Peering at the names on the list, you see the following marks:


Jonus Asderlenn

+

Lyanne of Hanerran

Loagen Hollass

Galindo Ter Haar

Alisandre Eriq

X

Inaros Petremol

Haguin Bavent

Durant Kreuger

Clerenbald

Isodemos

Liafwine Danfrie

Ealunar Wylde


Some of the names are clearly of Ragalian descent, others are more elven. The rest are different enough that you might place them with Lohren, or perhaps among dwarves.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:56, Tue 05 May 2020.

Garrel nods at the question, but there is a look of distaste on his face.

"The guards want to put the heads on pikes at the ends of the hills, so orcs who see them will get better ideas than to come down here to visit us."

You can tell he doesn't like it at all, but he shrugs, and adds, "Maybe it will work. Maybe not. You won't get paid any less if you only bring the ears. But you can do me a favor and bring a few heads? Maybe four, five? It will make Joemer happy."

With the marks and signatures out of the way, Master Garrel puts all the papers back into the folio and returns it to the drawer.

"Good. Good! Now, you are ready to go. I have more work to do."

He proceeds to gently usher you out of his office, and walks you to the front door of the hall.

"Now, always be on the lookout. The goblins are sneaky, and they don't like to fight fair. They will always try to outnumber you. I used to be an adventurer like you, but then I took an arrow to the knee my party was killed and I was the last one out. That was many years go. I hope you fare better out there than the others. They never came back."

You find yourselves standing on the steps of the hall, at the edge of the round. The few mingling guards here look at you with curiosity, as if there was something strange or unusual about you.

Finally one of them speaks up.

"Hail there, the Emberdell guard is looking to hire more able-bodied members. You lot look like you could do a good day's work defending the town. It pays well, 12 silver a week, and you get bed, room, and board at the barracks. 'Sides, you look like you are already well trained and able swordsmen. Well, not you." He stares at Angus, who has no outward indications of physical or martial training at all, being clad in the robes of a scribe or wizard.

He approaches Marille, but with some hesitation.

"Now you!, we could really use you. You know how to use a blade and you look like you could cleave a tree in half with a half-hearted swing."

He looks at Marille with an expectant, hopeful look.

As the guardsman makes his pitch, you observe a lone figure approaching from the western end of the round. The figure is clad in metal, with a large shield on the left arm, wearing a heavy light blue tunic with the symbol of Chiress emblazoned on it: a large sun from which pours a spring of water. From the build of the armor, and the shape of the hips, you surmise this is a woman approaching.

OOC: Please feel free to interject into conversations and ask your questions. I am posting the entire line of speaking or thinking as it would happen if there were no interruptions or asides, but of course you will have things to say or ask or observe. Since this is a PbP game, and we are posting roughly once a day, even casual conversations would take a long time if we were only moving at the pace of a regular back-and-forth. So, I put the whole thing down and you guys pick at it as you wish.

"Hail there, the Emberdell guard is looking to hire more able-bodied members ...

While sympathetic to the town's desire to grow the ranks, Petar doesn't particularly feel like being tied down and the bounty pay was certainly generous enough.  He was about to mumble some non-committal reply when ...

As the guardsman makes his pitch, you observe a lone figure approaching from the western end of the round ... From the build of the armor, and the shape of the hips, you surmise this is a woman approaching.

Petar waves and takes a few friendly steps forward.  He doesn't want to leave the others just standing there, though, so he waits for the priestess to arrive.

"Hello!  Are you Camille?"

."Now you!, we could really use you. You know how to use a blade and you look like you could cleave a tree in half with a half-hearted swing." He looks at Marille with an expectant, hopeful look.

Marille eyed the man encouragingly. "Me plan tu do et tu sum gublins. Me bring many heds."

Phelan, relieved that the attention is being drawn to Marille, steps away from the group and watches the figure approaching. She also prefers not to be tied down to a position in the guard.

OOC: This is an interjection into the conversation as Petar asks questions.



"Yes, yes... a sad tale, to be sure. Camille and her sister were recently inducted as clerics of Chiress into our temple. Alinda, Camille's sister, thought she could do more good by joining the last group of explorers to pass through here. They haven't returned. It's been two weeks since they left. The search parties haven't been able to find anything but goblins, so everyone's assuming they all perished." He grunts his displeasure at the whole sad affair. "Camille's been taking it hard. But she's got a strong heart. I just hope she isn't going to do something stupid and join a group of adventurers like her sister. I don't want to lose two good clerics in one spring."

As he pushes the map scroll back on the shelf he adds,

"You can find the temple very close. Just step out and head straight down the southern road. Big building with the Chiress fountain in front of it. Can't miss it."

OOC: A "Chiress" fountain is a magical spring of water that is built by all temples dedicated to the goddess. They are all of different styles but have the common theme of a large circular plate made of stone or metal, representating the sun, from which a light spring of water pours to the ground. All of it is held in a shallow pool where the water is always clean. Anyone drinking from the fountain will feel greatly refreshed and benefit from the Mending Boon once a day.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:40, Wed 06 May 2020.