The Luskan Arms (Inn in Targos)
"Between Trolls and the Plesiosauruses, I must say this has been a rather eventful day. I hadn't expected this when I set out from Candlekeep. Oh, thank you," Dannika said to Torgrim as she humbly accepted the cup of tea Ethen had poured, all the while remaining blissfully unaware of the conversation that took place a few paces over.* "No Chwingas in sight, however. I reckon I would need that lesson at some point. After I buy a new bow." She mumbled the last part. "Apparently, there's nothing magical about the music. It just has to . . . not . . . sound like . . . what I was playing." A small wince overcame her when she recalled her earlier practice session. "Was it really that bad? Do you think there's any hope for me? I don't need to be a virtuoso, I just need to play well enough to pique the ears of little, mischievous elemental spirits." She sipped the warm herbal tea. From the way it smelled to Torgrim, it must have tasted quite pleasant. "Chwingas don't have ears, of course, at least not in the traditional sense – they're mostly made of straw or weeds or whatever the climate would dictate. Peculiar, really, when you consider . . ." Dannika launched into what Torgrim would soon realize was a lengthy ramble on her favorite topic.
Puff, smoke. Hlin tilted an eyebrow, glancing sideways at Rhydd as the fireplace continued to crackle. "You're familiar with the man? You surprise me again. I, too, had the misfortune to come to know him through Torg. Know him," she corrected herself, "I know of him. But he did strike me as the company Torg would find herself in . . ." Another pause – the conversation was equal parts silence and talk. "Torg's is no more, neither coster nor Dwarf. Or rather, the Dwarf is rotting away in a beaten old cot in Easthaven, half her wits about her, if that.
"She's dealt with Black Robes before, and it might be that Kaltro donned it himself after there was no more work for him in the caravan . . . although, who he is beholden to presently I do not know. He has acquired some strange powers. Whether through orders or not, the killings are not haphazard. Targos is one of the three towns that elected to sacrifice people instead of food and warmth," she chortled, lips still wrapped around the mouthpiece. She found the entire thing farcical, whether it be people, corn, or under flannels. "My guess is that Kaltro aspires to some higher purpose, or whatever it would be, and that he's doing The Frostmaiden's dirty work for her."
Torgrim, I think it's fair to give you a chance to roll to see if you can overhear what Rhydd and Hlin are talking about. Roll me a Perception check. Scratch that, you can have Torgrim overhear what what you want him to overhear.
EDIT: Some minor cleanup . . .
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:38, Mon 05 July 2021.