[Lushday, 1st day of Summerrise,  Morning]

Two half-elves, a halfling and a wolfkin walk into a bar... We'll, it's bound to happen at some point.

Jabari and Copper, the wolfkin and halfling with an unusual bond, Alkin and Morin two half-elf brothers reunited after years of separation... An unusual group indeed are traveling in the Belifar region of the Ravenlands, united by the common goal of survival in these wild and dangerous times.

Five scant years have passed since the Blood Mist dissipated, allowing relatively safe passage through these Forbidden Lands once more. Our party find themselves on the outskirts of some farmed land, in sight of a small village, an old wooden signpost bearing the name 'Morvale'.

A stone wall surrounds the village, with a large house standing proudly on the top of a small hill sat in the middle of the settlement. A few human folk work the fields, though they pay you no attention at the moment, hard at work as they are.
This message was last updated by the GM at 06:47, Mon 26 July 2021.

Another outpost of civilization. Another stinking dead-land, torn up and despoiled by furless.

Not that villages didn't have their advantages, too. Jabari had reconciled himself to that since leaving the Fangwoods. He couldn't bring himself to like them, though.

He didn't have the same knack for reading people that he did for reading the land, but some things about approaching a village had become routine, if not quite ritual. "The market or the inn first?" he wondered aloud, casting a slow glance along the wall and then out over the fields (and farmers) to the sides. "Or talk to these ones to find out what's happening before we go in?"

"Morvale, huh?" Said Copper as he looked out over the fields.

"Interesting that humans are attending the field for a Halfling village.  There will be inequity there, and rumours.  It's like scouting something before advancing.  Perhaps we shall uncover some danger, like Rust influence."

"I think we should scout out the humans first and work our way inwards to the inn. Halflings enjoy their drink and it will be there social network hub of the village. They also may know some recent deaths in the village which would be work for us."

There was an air of gloom over the half elf but then that was a common state for one such as him.

He could feel the dead in their graves near the wall of the town. At least they seemed quiet for now

"Cooper I think you need to relax a bit but if it makes you happy please be my guest and scout about. The dead are quiet so there will be no problem with them at least"

He then waited silently for the others to decide what to do next

Nodding to the other's remarks, Morin ensures his own strides as they approach the village veer towards where the farmers work in the fields. He presents as a simple traveller, without much to his name, but his smile is well-worn and tousled as his hair as he pauses at the edge of the path and calls out, "Morning! Any news from Morvale? Is there an inn in the village for some footsore travellers?"

The villagers notice Morin's approach a little while before he gets to them, their eyes warily travelling over the whole motley group before Morin speaks.

By the time he gets to them, the three closest farmers, a young human woman, a man and a halfling (perhaps they appeared as but a child from afar) all down tools and stand waiting for the group to approach.

It is the man that answers, the young woman standing behind him slightly. "Morning stranger." He begins slowly.

"That there be sir, that would be the White Stag, Stanner and Gerta's place." He confirms, "As for news, well it's a quiet place here, not much happens, we farm and hunt and just about scrape by. There's not much for a stranger besides Yelena's honey cakes - which I might add are delightful."

Jabari's ears easily picked up the conversation even from a distance, reluctant-sounding though it was. There's nothing here for strangers was a common enough line that usually meant There's nothing here worth stealing, so you'd best move on, the implication being that their little troupe looked like potential raiders.

He couldn't recall ever having raided the place with his kin, and he certainly hadn't done so in present company.

Aside from sweets, the farmer was presenting the village as just another one like the rest; Jabari might get in a bit of hunting while the others dealt with matters in town, and then they'd be off again - or maybe there was something going on inside the walls that the farmer simply didn't want to talk about? That had happened before too...
This message was last edited by the player at 21:58, Sun 01 Aug 2021.

Nodding in sympathy at the man's pronouncement of strife and struggle, Morin's face brightened at the sound of an inn - and the broke into a smile when honeycakes were mentioned, "It sounds like we should seek out the White Stag then, friend. We're not the loud sort, quiet suits us well enough ... though for honeycakes ... well, a man might do a lot for honeycakes"

He nodded politely, "We shouldn't keep you from your toil, friend, but my thanks for the news of the town. You're welcome to seek me out at the Stag for a pint in thanks, if you wish. Just ask for Morin, or my brother, Alkin"

He offered his smile to all three, and enough of a pause should they wish to speak, before returning to the road into the village and toward the inn

"You think they will?" Jabari wondered quietly once out of earshot, sparing a glance backward at the farmers, as the quartet moved along. He felt that suspicion outweighed curiosity among that lot, but maybe Morin's words would shift the balance further than he expected?

You follow the narrow, rutted track that passes between fields and to the gate in the wall that protects Morvale. As you walk up to the village, you note a few halfling dwellings around the base of the hill on which the large house is build, but besides that, most of the buildings appear to be of human build.

Besides what is most likely the village elder's (or whatever term is used here) residence, the most prominent buildings appear to be the inn and stables, located to the right of the gate as you enter, with another large building just behind it.

To the left of the gate, surrounded by a low but well maintained hedge is only the third building with an upper floor, but there is no clue as to it's use or owner from it's appearance.

You can hear the ring of metal on metal from somewhere in the village and smoke rises from several chimneys around about. Somewhere a dog barks and the sound of children's laughter can be heard too.

As you pass through the gate, two guards stand to what passes for attention and the older of the two steps forward, "Strangers, state your business in Morvale." He says in a less than commanding tone. He seems to be especially wary of the wolfkin, glancing nervously at him.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:15, Mon 02 Aug 2021.

Wandering out of earshot of the farmers, Morin offered the barest of shrugs to the wolfkin. His eyes scanned the wall and the town beyond as they walked, noting the gate and guards. His voice was soft as he answered, "Perhaps. Probably not, but friendliness costs little..."

His lips curled into a smile as the older guard stepped forward, though he let his brother or the halfling speak for them

Alkin stopped in front of the guard. He gave a small smile but on his pale face it sat uncomfortably like it wanted to disappear quickly. " We are just travellers passing though and looking for a good ale, warm lodgings and a hat meal. If the opportunity arises I will preform my trade" he lifted his shovel and indicated the chain round his neck that labelled him as a mortician. " if all are healthy then I will settle for the meal and warm bed"

Jabari stood with his arms folded as Alkin stepped forward to speak. The guards were scared of wolfkin. The rest of the village probably wasn't much different. He could even understand that.

It wouldn't stop him from making himself useful, one way or another.

The guard nods, stepping back as he replies "Very well," his eyes remaining fixed on the wolfkin. "Just be sure to keep the peace, we want no trouble here."

You follow the path to the gate of the White Stag Inn. The tavern itself is a fairly large, two storey building with a small stables set behind it. The sign hanging above the door shows a white stag with an impressive pair of antlers. The windows are cracked in places and the woodwork could do with some care, the exterior more than a little run down.

You open the door and are greeted by the welcoming smell of stale straw and aged ale, with an accompanying hint of damp. The fire is barely alight and inside the taproom is empty save for the old man and younger woman behind the bar. You guess everyone else is either working the fields or about their business rather than socialising...
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:03, Tue 10 Aug 2021.

The place stank. Jabari had grown used to dealing with this fact of other-kin dwellings and reacted with no more than a quiet wince and snort when the reek first assailed his nose; so long as the food and drink didn't share the aroma of putrescence, he'd manage.

The lack of a crowd was also a good thing. It kept the smell from being any worse, and acclimating the two owners to his presence would be simpler than dealing with half of the village all at once. He shrugged off his bow and pack whilst the more adept conversationalists handled the greetings, setting them against a nearby wall once he'd picked a convenient seat.

Alkin noticed his Wolfkin friend turn his nose up as they entered and smiled despite himself. The smell didn't particularly effect him after having to deal with hundreds of dead bodies in differing states of decay the smell of a musty tap room was like roses in comparison.

The sullen half elf walked over to the girl behind the bar " good afternoon miss, could we have four mugs of ale and could you tell my friends and I what you have to offer in the way of warm food."

Wandering round the room whilst he brother handled the innkeep, Morin pulled a copper coin from his pouch and began to twirl it across his knuckles, back and forth. His eyes wandered more than his feet, though the fingers of the hand without the coin brushed against the backs of chairs, the plastered walls, the beams of the hearth. He let a faint smile drift across his face, though he said nothing as his brother asked for ale

The young woman smiles at Alkin, standing attentively across the bar under the watchful gaze of the older man. She is dressed in simple clothing, brown cloth skirt and a similarly worn but comfortable looking shirt.

“Of course sir,” she says, looking to the old man briefly who gives a slight shrug of his shoulders before turning and heading through the door into the kitchen. The girl starts pulling pints as she speaks <Blue>“My pa’ has gone to check what food is fresh today for you sir, but I hope you’ll enjoy our ale, it’s brewed here by my father. We’ve usually some stewed vegetables or soup, but if you’re lucky there’ll be some mutton or goat maybe.”
</Blue>
She puts the first few tankards on the bar top, and returns to the pump, “I’m Helina by the way, my pa, he’s Stanner and my ma’ works the kitchen she’s Gerta.” With that she places the other two ales on the bar. Four copper please… If you don’t mind me asking, where are you from?” She smiles shyly at Alkin, but her eyes drift to Jabari more than once, a nervousness about her when she does.


[OOC: You notice everything here seems threadbare, as if it's on it's last legs. You are the only customers here so far, but it is morning.]

Jabari had rested one arm on the nearby table and begun to softly tap the fingers of that hand against it in a shifting rhythm. Not for the first time he wished that he'd had the foresight to bring a drum with him when he first set out from the...

"Fangwoods, but not lately. And I'm not here to raid," he stated flatly.  Best to get that out of the way early, given the nervous looks. He paused his finger-drumming to lift his hand and encompass their quartet with a vague swirl of those fingers. "Jabari, wayfinder."

Wayfinder was what he did - well, one of the things that he did - for the company, but it was just as often taken as being part of his name. Still, it was better that than some of the alternatives that other-kin might come up with.

Alkin blushed at the maids smile. He was more comfortable with the dead than the living and had very few social skills. Taking about his profession was one thing but talking to a pretty girl was totally different.

With shaking hands he gathered the mugs have a jumbled thank you, smiled, blushed again, something very noticeable against his pale complexion, turned and nearly spilt the ales before managing to get them to the table and his companions.

He took a mug and with head down looked in it hoping it would swallow him up. He refused to make she contact with his friends especially his brother who he knew would have a smile on his face

Helina seems to relax a little at Jabari's statement - quite probably not expecting him to be able to speak in a tongue she could understand - and smiles at the wolfkin.

"That's reassuring." she says, adding "Though I can handle myself."

A moment or so later, her father comes back out of the kitchens, muttering under his breath "sshh woman, it will hear you..."

He clears his throat, "We have some broth and bread for you, and if you wish, we have some pig we can roast for you, though it won't be ready until later this evening, if, ah, if you're planning on staying... Which you are most welcome to do of course..." He trails off rather embarrassed, refusing to look at Jabari.

Jabari's ears momentarily flattened in annoyance at being called an it, but contrary to local expectations, he didn't promptly leap over the bar and eviscerate the man for his rudeness. He'd come to... not accept, so much as expect, that sort of behavior from many other-kin. Much of their scorn was based on hearsay, often wildly exaggerated, but sometimes, he knew, his kin did things to affirm it.

"We'll be staying for a day or two, unless Alkin's services or Copper's wares are needed beyond that?" He glanced from Helina to Stanner to the strangely-shaky Alkin as he spoke, his words formed with slightly more care. It was difficult to tell whether he was simply trying to hold his annoyance in check, or to subtly emphasize the point that he was not a slobbering dolt. Perhaps it was both.

"Aye." Piped up the diminutive Copper, sat at the table across from his unlikely companion.

"I'd be interested to see what you have for sale around here, or what you might be in need of. I noticed a smithy here, perhaps he is in need of some new tools or other supplies I might have." He took a sip of his ale, wincing at the bitter aftertaste.

Slipping into a seat at the table next to Jabari, Morin snagged one of the ales his brother had returned with. His eyes were sharp, missing nothing, but he said nothing regards the barmaid: fouling their play in front of the mark was bad form, though his twitched smile suggested he may well tease Alkin about it later, in the privacy of the four of them.

He sipped at his bitter ale, ears open to the mode and tone of the speech of the folk here, in case such knowledge was needed later. After a longer sip he learned back, tagging his own words on after Copper's roundabout probe for information, "If my brother's talents aren't needed, my hands will be idle. Happy to work here and there for a few copper chits..."

"Our blacksmith, Grammen I'm sure is always looking to trade something." Stanner says to Copper, "You'd have to ask Hargen, the tanner if he wants anything, we don't speak much." The old man's tone indicates he doesn't hold this Hargen in high regard.

"We don't get many folk passing through, so I'm sure there are others in need. Old Hec, he runs a store, he'd certainly be interested in anything you might have to offer and I'm sure you could replenish your supplies there too." He adds.

He is just about to say something else, when the door to the inn is flung open dramatically and puffing and panting, a rather portly looking man with dark, receding hair and ruddy red cheeks stomps into the tap-room. His is clad in a leather jerkin that is belted at the waist but strains to keep his belly in. A sword is sheathed at his side, well maintained.

Stanner and Helina go about their business as the man comes to a stop just by your table, chest heaving as he sucks in deep breaths.

"Who... Who are you, why have you come to Morvale?" He demands, his face red with either exertion or rage, it is difficult to tell. "As leader of the Watch, I demand to know."

Jabari continued his light drumming on the table, but otherwise remained silent, reasoning that this situation was better handled by the more socially adroit - and less mistrusted - members of their little company, at least until they knew what was behind the watch-captain's eagerness.

If it was merely more fuss for his sake, so be it, but the words implied something more.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:13, Fri 10 Sept 2021.

Alkin looked up through his dark fringe his pale eyes studying the man as a vulture studies a dying thing sizing him up potentially measuring him in his mind for a coffin.

" We are mere travellers passing through offering our skills for trade. simply looking for a warm roof over our heads before we move on" he said with a slight smile that didn't sit well on his handsome by haunted features.

At his table, Morin twitches but forces a smile, apparently unperturbed. His eyes tighten as his brother explains, lips twitching to add some quip or taunt, "Indeed, travellers... O Watch Captain. Seeking a few honest hours of labour in exchange for some coin or someone to lay our heads..."

The red faced man looks suspiciously at the group for a moment, before nodding his head, apparently satisfied with the answers he's received.

"Very well, but make sure it is honest work.. And don't loiter around after dusk." He adds, before turning on his heel and storming back out again.

A moment after the watch leader has gone, Helina comes over, whispering "That was Jespen, our self appointed watch leader.. He inherited the position when his father passed and he takes every..."

Her words are cut short as her father snaps, "Helina, I'm sure the gentlemen have better things to do than to listen to you gossiping in their ears. There are glasses that need washing daughter."

So much for that. And so much for the more welcoming of their two hosts, who had apparently said more than her father wished. On the other hand, they weren't in any immediate danger of being run out of town, which could be taken as a victory of sorts.

He suddenly paused his drumming, hand freezing in place mid-rise. "You're the innkeeper," he stated, looking directly at the man in question. "That was the watch captain." The no-longer drumming hand rose to from-the-elbow wave forward the door that said watch captain had just exited, and then rose to lightly tap the side of one of his ears before returning to the table. "I could hear a smith."

"Any other crafts here?"