The Tegel Village Visitor's Bureau has provided all guests with a map of the village. The bureau itself does not appear on the map. It recommends that all communications for the village be left here.


This message was last edited by the GM at 23:16, Sun 03 Apr 2022.

"My sojourn in the city of Tegel occurred during a period of my life no less dim and dubious than that the city itself and the misty regions lying there about. I have no precise recollection of its locality, nor can I remember exactly when and how I came to visit it. But I had heard vaguely that such a place was situated along my route; and when I came to the fog-enfolded river that flows beside it, and heard beyond the river the mortuary tolling of many bells, I surmised that I was approaching Tegel."

--From a Diary of an Unknown Penitent

If Ereth were to have believed himself to have been in a hypnogogic state, he would have been forgiven for having believed that the state yet persisted. Upon advancing down the Night Road to Tegel Village, he and his fellow travelers discover that the limits of Tegel far outstretch those of any village and surely, given that, more than a few lights should greet them? A lamppost with its glass-enclosed hissing, crackling gas-fed luminescence is the first of these. There is another not terribly far down the cobblestone road.

Again there seems little choice of what to do, the logic of the dream compelling the dreamers forward.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:30, Sun 08 May 2022.

As a group, you trod down one dubious cobblestone road to another with the light from a succession of lampposts first waxing and then waning with first your approach and then departure. The streets were narrow, the houses high, with overhanging balconies and heavily curtained or shuttered windows -- just as the unknown penitent had found them to be. You do not, though, hear the tolling of funereal bells -- only the clomp, clomp of your boots upon the stone streets. You do not see any fellow travelers -- or perhaps they were obscured by the swirling, grey mists.

At the last lit light, you find yourselves under the awning of what must be Tegel's finest public house. Through the smoky glass, you can see the silhouettes of patrons inside, playing cards, eating from platters, drinking from tankards, talking it out, or sleeping it off.  You want some of that.  You tumble inside.

Into loneliness.

No patrons.

No cards.

No platters.

No drinks.

No slumber.

Worst of all, no talkin' it out.

Just a spare lobby with a few sickly palms and dusty couches.  A reception area, unmanned, is off to the side, with a counter between guest and concierge (but no concierge at the moment).  On the counter sits a single bell, tapped to be rung.  Beyond the counter and the space behind the encounter is a wall lined with cubbies.  Depended from chains, a sign proclaims this establishment to be The Emperor of Curd.

The lobby has two exits in addition to the front entrance.

Once she has stepped inside, Lotti ducks outside again to double check on the window scene.  Does she see the others inside, or is the original scene still present?

Cassandra does just the opposite.  She looks outside, through the window of the tavern, to see if she can see Lotti (or a different outdoor scene from what we just left).

While Cassandra and the half elf do their thing, Ereth whispers to the rest of the group, "Something's clearly wrong here, and we've had a long day. I could use some rest and a chance to study my spell book. Maybe it would be safer to head back up the road a hundred paces and find a good spot to camp for the night? I don't know about all of you, but I'd rather explore this place in the light of day."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:13, Tue 10 May 2022.

Getting no immediate response from anyone, Ereth added, "Or if you prefer a roof and four walls to the outdoors, maybe we could just crash on these couches? Naturally we'd need to set a night watch either way..."

Ornwin commented "If there were rain or snow or the like, I'd stay at the inn, no matter how haunted it might be. But if we have no weather of that sort, I agree that it would be best to camp outside -- outside this weird village altogether -- and only explore by day when the powers of light grow stronger against those of darkness."

As Lotti goes about her inspection, she can't help but smile as the dwarf and human speak their minds.  She shares her own thoughts as the conversation continues.

"We've just witnessed our driver get eaten alive out on the Derfingel, and all we've seen here so far is an illusion to fool weary travellers into thinking the place is more comfy and inviting than it really is.  Why would you want to go running off outside again?  Don't get me wrong, I'm usually the first to want to sleep naked out under the stars, but not in the Derfingel.  Not the Derfingel.

OOC:  Besides that, to quote this games boss.


Lotti is interested in hearing from Cassandra what she sees when she looks out from the inside.  "Could you see me waving and blowing raspberries at you?"

If after Cassandra reports her view it all appears kosher she suggests, "Why don't we just ring the bell and see what happens from there?"

OOC: I waited until Lotti was outside before putting my question to the party. And I assume she couldn't have heard Ornwin's response either. For the record, I wasn't proposing that we hike a mile into the swamp. That's why I said 100 paces, still within the town limits. And also why I offered up the alternative of sleeping in the room we're in, if folks prefer the indoors to the outdoors. Ornwin has expressed his opinion. I'm interested to hear from Otis and Trevion, and perhaps Cassandra.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:21, Tue 10 May 2022.

Noting the silence of the town during thir approach, Otis is deeply suspicious of the noise and merriment coming from the inn as they approach. Too obvious! Like a mouse spotting a piece of cheese (that's actually in a trap).

Now that folks are inside Otis looks around and see some new and some not quite so new faces. He introduces himself with a formulaic, "I'm Otis, martial defender of the woods and devout follower of Mielikki." and bows, transcribing a small arc as he does so.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:12, Tue 10 May 2022.

Trevion walked a slow circle around the vacant lobby, taking in the couches and neglected plants before approaching the counter. A studious frown on his face, he searched for any signs of recent movement or occupation, any hint that someone besides the travelers had recently been present here.

Trevion nodded slowly in response to Ereth’s observations. ”There is something strange at work here, though I cannot guess at what it is. Perhaps it would be wiser to make camp at the edge of the village.”
This message was last edited by the player at 13:36, Tue 10 May 2022.

In reply to Trevion (msg # 12):

“Do you sense anything evil, in here, Trevion?  I haven’t.  So far....”  Cassandra’s voice trails off as she continues to look for Lotti through the tavern window.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 16:18, Tue 10 May 2022.

Ereth responds to Cassandra's question, "I confess, I do not sense anything particularly 'evil' about this place, but then again, I don't possess any special power to detect such things. It's just creepy, for obvious reasons."

He then put his own question to her. "There are three votes for exiting the premises, camping at the edge of town, and returning here in the light of day. You are a woman of wisdom. What do you think is best at this point?"

In reply to Ereth (msg # 14):

“I would not mind an actual room and bed, if anyone was alive and awake here to offer a few to us.  But I am definitely not comfortable camping out in THIS empty tavern room - despite the availability of couches and chairs.  I could use some sleep too.”

Cassandra pauses to consider any other options, but no good ones come to mind under the current circumstances.

“I’m not sure how many paces it is, but I guess I generally agree with Trevion. Let’s head to the edge of town, near the road, and find the best spot we can for the night.  Dry and defensible would be ideal since we need to heal, sleep and recover spells.  I just hope the sun actually rises, come morning.”

Let me see what can be revealed to me…” The soldier’s voice trailed off as he began to concentrate, seeking to sense anything of ill intent within the vicinity.

OOC: Utilize Trevion’s Detect Evil ability (60’ radius).

With something near telepathy, Lotti and Cassandra wordlessly conduct their experiment. Lotti darts back outside and then pivots back to look through the smoky glass and sees her partner looking right back at her. On the other side of the glass, Cass beholds the half-elf with her face pressed against the window with the ever thickening grey mists swirling about her.

As if in response to Orwin's speculation, Ereth's first whispered words boom through out the desolate lobby:

"Something's clearly wrong here!"
     "Something's clearly wrong here!"
          "Something's clearly wrong here!"

Surveying the lobby and then the counter, Trevion studies the copious coating of dust upon every surface his eyes linger on, including the bell atop the counter.

In reply to Otis (msg # 11):

Ornwin bows deeply to Otis, and says, "I am honored to have your company, and your courage in our defense."

The echoes fading, Trevion took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he looked over the seemingly abandoned inn a second time. ”I sense the presence of evil,” he told Cassandra and any of his fellow travelers who were listening, ”It is like a fog that has settled over this place, permeating it. But…I do not feel anything menacing close at hand.”

Once the illusion is shattered Lotti comes back inside.  "Yeah just a magic trick to make the place look full and inviting.  It worked well it pulled us in."

Lotti doesn't seem overly concerned that the place is covered in dust.

"Shall we ring the bell and see what pans out?"  She moves over to the counter and will do so unless someone says something to stop her.

"One moment. Please," Ereth says to Lotti, gently but firmly, as a father might to a daughter. "I've spoken to the others and there seems to be a general agreement that we should make camp at the edge of town, set a watch, and return here in the morning. I would like to hear your thoughts, but please don't ring any bells until the matter is settled."

"What? Why?  This is an inn, and we are travellers.  Travellers stay at inns, so why don't we stay here?"

In reply to Ereth (msg # 21):

“Lotti.  I too thought to ring the bell or suggest that someone else ring the bell to see what or who might be summoned.  But now that it is clear that this entire place is permeated with evil, is either haunted or, at a minimum, under dark spells that create illusions and haunting voices, I feel even more strongly that we should leave this place now, just for the remainder of the night.  I am tired.  Several of us need healing.  We all need sleep and some need to recover spells for tomorrow.  We can return at daylight, when the evil that holds this place in thrall will be at its weakest.”

“I’m not afraid of what might happen or doubtful of our collective ability to handle the situation, but I do believe that waiting until morning is the prudent path to take.”

In reply to Lotti (msg # 22):

“Lotti: if this were a NORMAL inn, located in a NORMAL village, with some sign of NORMAL inhabitants, I would agree with you wholeheartedly.  But this is not.”

"But, but, Trevion right?" not sure she'd recalled his name correctly, "said he did didn't feel anything menacing close at hand.  If the evil is like a fog, it's going to be everywhere, and nowhere in particular, so if there is nothing right here, isn't right here as good as we're going to get rather than outside?"

In reply to Cassandra (msg # 24):

Lotti: your assessment of the fog of evil over the town definitely has merit, but since you and Ornwin are still injured and need to be tended to, can we agree to a brief respite for the evening, at the edge of town, and then upon our return in the morning, you may ring the bell or, if this place is actually inhabited during the day, take the lead in speaking with the owner of this establishment and negotiating terms for our stay here (or elsewhere in town, if appropriate).  Based on the map that the coachman left with us and his song about “You Know Where,” (which I don’t think we should name, in this place and at this moment), I have a feeling that this Village will be our hangout for some time to come.  Let us return during the revealing light of day, at full strength and health.”

In reply to Cassandra (msg # 26):

“And, since you are a ranger and have the half-elven gift of night vision and extraordinary hearing, I’d feel much safer with you protecting all of us outside, in your element, rather than trapped inside the confines of this dead building.  If all of the points I have made do not seem wise to you, then nothing else that I could say will sway you.”

Lotti squares up to Cass.  "So as a ranger, when I say don't sleep outside, the Paladin has confirmed there is evil about, it's a time to stay indoors, for he has deemed the evil is not here, does that wisdom hold any sway?"

"Look I'm not trying to win a battle of wits here, I'm tired, I hardly know you, go and sleep outside if you want, I just don't think it's wise and I want a safe bed.  Whoever wants to go, go.  I want to ring the bell and be shown to a bed."

As Ereth watched the scene with Cass and Lotti unfold, he calmly processed the information, re-assessed the options, and decided to make an executive decision. Having reached a point of total exhaustion, seeing no real alternatives, and hoping the others would understand, he quietly and calmly proceeds to ring the bell.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:11, Wed 11 May 2022.

In reply to Ereth and Lotti (msgs # 28 & # 29):

Cassandra’s shoulders slump slightly in defeat and doubt.  Whatever surge of energy and inspiration from Eir that she had received and which had briefly taken hold of her mind and given her a voice of reason for her companions now seems to have dissipated into the evil village fog and dark environs of the village. Perhaps this was just a dream.  Or a nightmare.

Who was she to make any decision or recommendation?  She was still just an inexperienced young woman.  But who was she to argue with a mighty ranger, particularly one of elven descent with many more years of life experience.  She looks briefly toward Otis, with sympathy in her eyes as she realizes he has not yet had the time to process his thoughts and make his own desires heard.

Cassandra backs up and away from the bell and the inn counter.  Perhaps she’s just being paranoid.  Afraid of phantoms and harmless illusions.  The ranger is correct.  This is (or at least at some point in the distant past was) a village inn.  Despite the haunting, what could go wrong?  Maybe ringing the bell will restore life to the inn. Or awaken the dead?  She mentally prepares for either outcome.

She realizes that she is definitely exhausted, needs sleep, and now self aware that she has become lost in her own internal thoughts and doubts.  She slowly backs up and moves into a defensible position behind Otis and Trevion.  Perhaps these burly fighters can protect her.  She’s only known them for a few hours, but she trusts them.

While still in a daze and within the turmoil of her own thoughts, she suddenly realizes to her horror that the tall, lanky mage has now moved forward.  Toward the counter.  Toward the bell.  He is going to take the risk on Lotti’s behalf.  He is going to, no, has now rung the bell.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:46, Wed 11 May 2022.

After much deliberation, Ereth deliberately walks to the counter and taps the bell on it.  It vibrates plangently although for whom it might mourn can't be known.  A full ten seconds pass and then ten more till the bell ceases its lamentations.

Clomp.
  Clomp.
    Clomp.

That sounds comes from below, not from above, and draws Ereth's attention to the floor behind the counter where he notices a trapdoor.  As he watches, the door opens, and a neatly-dressed concierge emerges.  He's a slim man, wearing a white and blue vest and a tidy bellboy hat.  His voice, resoundingly chipper and cheerful, beckons:

"Welcome to the Emperor of Curd.  I'm Chester.  We're a full-service hotel.  Do you have any more luggage?  My name is Chester.  Trans or Res?"

"Ah, um... greetings Chester," the words stumbled out of Ereth's mouth due to the man's odd entrance, and the strange circumstances altogether.

"We are a party of six. I believe what you see is all we carry with us. As to the duration of our stay, I am a bit unsure. I suppose we should pay the nightly rate, as long as you would allow us to extend our stay should we decide to do so?

Ereth discreetly offers the concierge a silver piece to accompany the request.

In reply to Cassandra (msg # 30):

"Take your choice, adventurous stranger/Ring the bell and bide the danger/Or wonder till it drives you mad/ What would have happened if you had."
(Inscription in the Hall of Past Rulers in Charn, The Magician's Nephew,)

OOC: Excellent!

Chester responds with alacrity: "Stay for a day or stay for a lifetime!  We at the Emperor of Curd pride ourselves on being a full-service hotel.  Many, at first, just intend to stay for a day."

Tapping the counter, he adds, "2 gold per night or 10 for a week.  One room for each of you, but," winking conspiratorially at Ereth and Lotti, "there are interconnecting doors should you become lonely."

"You can relax in the lounge," he explains, "which is through that door," pointing to the one egress far from the lobby.

From behind the counter, he retrieves a ledger and bids you sign in so that he can fetch keys for your rooms.  The one too many sparkles in his eyes and the complete absence of creases from his uniform and bellboy's cap bespeak either his tenuous grasp of sanity or the Emperor's high standards in all matters sartorial.

He considers the silver coin offered to him by Ereth, momentarily baffled by its implications. He'd already told them it was a full-service hotel. What additional service could Ereth crave? Deftly, he smiles, "I need more silver pieces for the six rooms!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:17, Thu 12 May 2022.

Whilst Ereth is speaking to the newcomer called Chester Lotti gestures to Trevion that she wants a word in his ear, which will require that he bends down to her level.  She patiently waits for him to comply.

and when/if he does she leans in close quickly placing her hands around his neck......she then gives a mischievous giggle and removes her hands so he can straighten, beaming up at him with a wide hopeful smile as he does so.

Ereth considers the odd behavior of the concierge and decides that it fits perfectly with everything else about the place. He then says in a straightforward manner, "Keep the silver. Here's two gold. I'd like a room without any adjoining doors, if possible. Much obliged."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:17, Thu 12 May 2022.

In reply to Ereth (msg # 37):

Cassandra does some rough calculations in her head, then says to her companions: “I’m not a mathematician and I’m not as wealthy as our mage must be...”

But then her voices trails off.  She really is exhausted. She thought she heard Chester offer up a group rate to them, but then she realizes she only heard that in her head, as if in a waking dream. Not knowing whether her party will need rooms for just one day or longer, she realizes it doesn’t make sense to pay in advance for a week.  Plus, she can’t afford it.

She reaches into her pouch and produces 2 gold pieces.  She hands them to Chester and signs the ledger. “I’ll take a room for one night.  Thank you.”, she says as a room key is proferred.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:13, Thu 12 May 2022.

After signing the ledger and receiving his room key, Ereth decides to check out the lounge while the others finish checking in.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:47, Thu 12 May 2022.

Heading that way, he turns to Cassandra and says, "Care to join me?"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:31, Thu 12 May 2022.

Cassandra, still confused about how she was so easily convinced to hand over two whole gold pieces for a room for one night in this bizarre and creepy inn, drifts along, as if in a trance, and mindlessly follows Ereth to the lounge.  Her head jerks slightly as she realizes she had just nodded off to sleep while walking to the lounge.  She definitely needed to get some rest, or a suitable stimulant, if more was to be expected of her during this interminably long day day, night, week, month. She had no idea how long it had been since she boarded that coach.

The tune sung by the coachman still continued to intrude her thoughts.  She thought about lavender and hair as she continued to follow Ereth and a suitable place to sit. Or maybe even rest her head for a moment.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:00, Thu 12 May 2022.

Unable to feel at ease within the strange inn, Trevion nonetheless pays Chester for single night’s stay, his gaze restlessly drifting across the dusty lobby even as he hands over the coin.

Having talked it out, not once, but twice, everybody produces his or her two gold pieces and signs the dusty, old ledger.

To Ereth's request, and all others in that vein, Chester smartly replies, "We're a full-service hotel. That's OK if you don't want a room with adjoining doors, you can have a private room."

"I just wanted you to know that, I couldn't even hear you, in the night. No one could. No one lives anywhere near here."

"In the night, in the dark, I couldn't hear you," he repeats.

Chester then retrieves six cards from behind the counter and distributes them should any of you require any of his full array of services.

It reads: "Hi! I'm Chester."  It also has "Ext. 4251" in small print on the bottom.

~~~

Those of you who saunter to the lounge discover an ill-considered room. Scarce feet from the entrance, three tables cramp a corner, abutting the back wall and the bar, which zags away from the tables halfway down the counter. On one of the tables sits a greasy deck of playing cards. Behind the counter, a barkeep fixedly scrubs the lone clean spot with a filthy rag. On his red bartender's vest, he has a pin, but you can't read the label from the entrance.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:48, Thu 12 May 2022.

Seeing the barkeep, and moving in his direction, Ereth turns to Cass and asks, "What can I get you?"

In reply to Eteth’s offer, Cass replied:  “A glass of milk.  Cold.  If they have any.  Thanks!”
This message was last edited by the player at 20:43, Thu 12 May 2022.

Cassandra's request caused Ereth to stop in his tracks. For a moment he looked like he had swallowed a bug. Then he managed a smile, reminding himself how young the priestess was. "Milk it is," he replied.

Approaching the bar, Ereth ordered a glass of gin for himself, "And milk for the lady," wondering whether this establishment would have either.

While awaiting a response, he took a closer look at the label on the barkeep's pin.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:39, Thu 12 May 2022.

OOC:  It seems like Trevion doesn't want to play ball, which is fine.  Post #38 if you missed it Trevion.

As Lotti hands her coin over she asks Chester. "Why do you come up from under the reception area?  It seems like a strange place to be at this hour of the night or morning, whatever it is."

Once that is answered, and assuming it doesn't lead to something else that is unusual her next question is.

"What's it like to be outside in the village/hamlet in the evening?  Is it safe for a lady, or anyone else for that matter to walk around?"

and once that is asked she will continue.

"Does the fog come in every evening, has it always been like that?"

and finally "What would be your biggest concern if you were out at night around here?"
This message was last edited by the player at 01:16, Fri 13 May 2022.

OOC: Good stuff Lotti.

Trevion lingers at the counter, watching Chester as he addresses Lotti’s questions.

OOC: Trevion will continue to Detect Evil, focusing specifically on the recently arrived concierge.

In reply to Cassandra (msg # 38):

Ornwin rather reluctantly hands over two gold pieces (of his remaining six), muttering to himself, "We'd best find treasure soon, or I'll be sleeping on the floor --or in the street." He then lingers reluctantly near the counter in the lobby, since he wants to hear the answers to Lotti's questions, and so far she is the closest thing he has to a friend in the party.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:56, Fri 13 May 2022.

With his back and belly cruelly creased between table and counter and elbow nearly embedded within counter sludge, Ereth makes his desires known to the barkeep.

Not wavering in his wiping, the man says, "You must be wanting our specialty and something to wash it down?"

Lest Ereth repeat his request, he avers that he serves but one dish and but one drink at the Emperor of Curd.  Would he have the specialty or no?

He raises his eyes to yours. When risen, they still hang.

The pin on his red vest reads: "I'm not Chester!"


"That's the employee break room," Chester brightly answers.


Genuinely baffled, the concierge explains that he would never go outside -- with the Emperor of Curd being a full-service establishment, why would he?


For the first time, a troubled thought wrinkles Chester's brow, "Yes, it does. No, no, it has not always quite been like that. But it has been for as long as I can remember as curious as that sounds."


"That I would never be able to find my way back to the Emperor of Curd."
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:35, Sat 14 May 2022.

Frowning at some of his answers Lotti carries on, "Some of your answers sound very strange to my ears.  How old are you Chester and do you remember being a little boy?"

Trevion leans down to whisper in Lotti’s ear.

Lotti's face looks a little crestfallen when the paladin whispers into her ear.    She quickly focuses her attention back on Chester and her as yet unanswered question mumbling to him as she waits on his reply.  "It seems like I won't be sharing a door with Trevion Chester, perhaps you can put me in a room that shares a door with Cassandra, as apparently I could benefit from some spiritual guidance." She quickly pokes her tongue out at Trevion, in a manner that he wouldn't actually see, but it would convey a message of distaste to anyone else that saw.

Otis unfreezes, no longer in that strange condition whereby his brain had seemingly gone on holiday. Parsing things, both actions and words, somewhat belatedly he seeks Ornwin. After returning the bow Otis grinds out, "Thanks for seeing me rather than my heritage." Seeing the unexpectedly likable fellow seems to be sporting a slight wound he adds, "Let me fix that."

The half-orc eyes the paladin, Trevion, and nods, sure that time will reveal the flavour of paladin. He's ralaxed that he will not register the faintest hint of evil, being a best that he can be as a priest of Mielikki.

Before she tootles off to sleep Otis catches up with Lotti, "We did the best we could on the horses and coach. We work well together." He nods to himself then, indicating her wound, continues, "Anyway, please let me try and fix that."


======
OOC: 22:32, Today: Otis rolled 8 using 1d8.  CLW on Ornwin.
Mielikki is NG
22:50, Today: Otis rolled 5 using 1d8.  CLW on Lotti.

Chester, ever obliging, closes his eyes and drums his fingers on the countertop, his purplish fingertips disturbing the dust upon it.

"I do not remember my childhood, but it must have been a happy one," he says serenely.

As for the other question, he looks at his card, "24 or 51? I couldn't say. Both? Neither?"


"Rooms 5 and 6, then, for you and Cassandra."

She nods to the room, "24 sounds nice"  On a whim, and really suspicious of their host now that she has benefited from Trevion's skills she asks, "Chester are you actually alive and needing to breath air and drink liquid to survive?"

Fishing out some money Oris asks, "Chester, what do you mean 'We're a full-service hotel'? What services and where exactly? And please give map a map of this hotel; I get lost far too often and easily. And do you have some complimentary silk rope that we may have?"

He pushes across a couple of coins as requested. "I want a room adjacent to either of these two ladies," adds Otis, indicating Cassandra and Lotti.

***
Catching up with the others slightly later ater Otis asks, "What exactly are in 'the specials'?"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:59, Mon 16 May 2022.

“Oh, thank you, Otis!” yells Cassandra from the lounge to her protector, Otis - Otis speaking loud enough to be heard all the way from the lobby check-in counter.

If a buttock-ugly half-orc can ever to said to metaphorically glow, Otis does so.

Ereth hesitates, uncertain how to answer the question. He was tempted to decline the offer, but he didn't want to be rude.

"Lovely!" he proclaimed, trying to sound sincere. "Yes, we'll take two specials."

He doubted the food would be edible. He could only hope that the beverage would be quaffable.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:02, Sun 15 May 2022.

Given Ornwin's thin purse, he says, "I will just have the special, please.'

As Lotti had suggested, Trevion ventured into the lounge.

For an instant, the sight of the bar made him forget the unsettling atmosphere of the inn, his memory drifting back to seeing his father and oldest brother raising tankards in celebration of hard won victories, their moods bright and jovial. Now, it seemed that strong drink was something he had to refuse, to abstain from. He let out a soft sigh. He felt less like a divine servant and more like a simple outcast. He wondered if such as he ever found a sense of belonging among others, or if it was only duty that offered some measure of solace.

Waiting until the barkeep had moved to fill the orders he had been given, Trevion quietly told his fellow travelers, ”Chester radiates an aura of evil. But I do not believe him a threat. He is, perhaps, a servant of something greater. Possibly whatever force is behind the strange conditions that pervade this place.”

"Of course, I eat," Chester claims. "Not as often as I might like what with all of guests and the services they require."

Chester nearly glows as he responds to Otis's request for a delineation of services.

"Yes, we are a full-service inn, and those services, naturally, extend to our rooms.  Room, chamber pot, magic finger, ice bucket, and alarm ..."

He lists another three dozen or so items that either make no sense or that are forgotten about immediately. Who would want (or even risk) complementary mole removal?

"Stay for a day or a lifetime!  The Emperor of Curd will cater to all of your needs," Chester concludes, effulgent with pride.

But no they don't offer no-cost silk ropes to guests, he informs Otis, without a trace of irony.

~~~

With a practiced hand, the barkeep snatches a pitcher and fills three mugs with frothy yet possibly lumpy white liquid.  Smells like milk.  But milk that lives in that treacherous land between potable and turned.  With his other hand, he retrieves three colossal bowls and places them on the grimy counter.  Little whitish curds and nubs heaped high with a slick white grease coating it all.  This can only be a super-sized bowl of cottage cheese--more than any man could eat -- as if a man could eat any amount.

"Thank you, Chester. And my key? To the room adjacent to the ladies?"

Lotti falls quiet satisfied with Chester's reply and when Otis receives his key she nods her head more or less to say, Lets join the others in the other room.  I've used green italic to indicate she hasn't actually spoken, it's just what she would hope Otis would infer from her head movement and actions, so it's open to interpretation.
______________________________

When in the other room and when the barkeep has moved away from their group a little (if he doesn't move Lotti will ask him to please give them some privacy.)

In a sotte voce (I had to use it Ereth, I'd never heard it prior to you using it and had to look up what it meant.  (Kudos to you for giving me a new phrase.) she speaks only so the small group can hear her, "I don't believe Chester is alive.  I asked him directly, but I think he purposefully misdirected with his reply, and hopefully by now Trevion has informed you of his general demeanour.  I still believe inside is safer than outside, so I'm not going to discuss that again" she says as she cocks her head towards the door outside, "but potentially we're in the spiders web.  To be safe, because we all need some shut eye, I think we should all share the same room tonight, if we are able.  We can drag the bedding from other rooms to a room with an adjoining door, and then barricade the outside doors and call on our gods blessings until the morning."

Seeing the slop and swill placed on the bar, Ereth turns to Cass and says, "Good news! They have milk!" while handing a mug to her and turning his nose at the rest.

Leaning into the rest of the group he whispers, "I agree with Lotti. We need to be vigilant. How about using the two adjoining rooms, three to a room, keeping the adjoining door open?"

If circumstances allow, he will elaborate on that proposal here in the lounge. If not he will explain further when they reach the rooms.

Either way, here is the full proposal:

Everyone checks into their own rooms as originally planned. And everyone traps their hallway door with a piece of paper, or string, or whatever, to indicate if the door is opened during the night. Cass can handle these duties if others don't have the requisite skill.

Then we all convene in the adjoining rooms, taking whatever bedding is needed from our own rooms, and keeping all of our belongings with us.

We can lock and barricade the hallway doors, and the same thing with exterior windows, if necessary.

We will also check for secret doors in the walls or trap doors in the floor/ceiling of each room.

We can then set a single watch, stationed in the threshold of the adjoining doorway, 90 minutes each? ( 90x6 = 540 = 9 total hours or 7.5 hours of sleep per person factoring in the watch.)

Cassandra was looking forward to some real milk, but she sniffs the mug and decides it was a bad choice to ask and even more concerning that milk was all they had.  She politely but resolutely declines to drink any.  Oh well, she thinks to herself.  The iron rations and water will have to do.

Cassandra yawns (with some exaggeration, but also with true fatigue), makes eye contact with both Lotti and Ereth.  And nods agreement with each of their proposals.  Sounds like we at least have a plan for this night, she thinks to herself.

“I need some sleep.  Otis, will you escort me to my room?”

“Oh, Chester, a thought just occurred to me.  Are there any other travelers or long time residents staying in any of the other rooms in the inn tonight?”

Time to check out the accommodations.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:12, Tue 17 May 2022.

Ornwin was grimly preparing to force himself to consume his entire special, but since the others are apparently passing over the dinner, he carelessly knocks his bowl onto the dusty floor near Chester's feet and says, "Pardon my clumsiness. No need to bring another bowl.I shall do without dinner."He then rises hastily and joins the others in heading toward their rooms.

Lotti joins the general move upstairs chatting with the others about nothing as she goes.  She will wave and say, "Good evening, see you in the morning." to those remaining behind, (Ie the wait staff or anyone of the party that wishes to do things differently.) as you would.

OOC: I'm a bit confused by some of the posts, but if we're all now heading to our rooms I can get on board with that.

Otis offers Cassandra an arm, looks across to check on Lotti and seeingthat she's following, heads towards their bedrooms.

Trailing behind, Trevion followed the travelers upstairs, his gaze going back to the lobby as he ascended, watchful for anything that might signify danger. He felt weary, but recognized that sleep would be a long time in coming, if it sought him out at all.

When they reach the rooms, Otis investiages the wall thicknesses where possible, such as doorways and windows.
He's seeking where any creepy-sneaky passageays might be.

No fool, the bartender growls, "You'll be regretting that."

Upstairs the six of you, comprising the inn's only guests, Chester had admitted, take stock of the six rooms. Each nearly bare room has a bed, a desk with a single drawer, a picture on the wall--gorgonzola, pepper jack, blue cheese, cheddar, and brie. One of the rooms is not like the others: its wallpaper has started to peel back, revealing a viscous goo failing to do its job as an adhesive. Above the desk on the wall is tacked a photograph of a woman on a beach, her back towards the viewer and her eyes toward the sea. A gull flies above her. The bed in that room has been stripped of its sheets, revealing a vast red stain. You decide not to camp in the murder room.

And, thus, you have spent your first night in the Emperor of Curd.

If Chester, the concierge, and Aloitious, the barkeep, register any disapproval of your redecorating, they keep it to themselves, perhaps grateful that you didn't leave any additional steaming messes on the floor. Chester still speaks with the crispness of a sliced apple although with a fraction more strain than the day before. Perhaps, he had hoped, for once in his extended life, for a better tomorrow that had not arrived.

In response to your requests, Chester provides directions to the following points of interest within Tegel ... City, the fog having lifted enough to permit safe travel:

• Brinna Birgit, amazon -- Martial trainer
• Temple of Thor -- Divine trainer
• Rothald the Twice-Born, knifer -- Skullduggery trainer
• The Mayor
• Shrine of Molna -- Divine trainer
• Ep Sroten, shyster -- Arcane trainer
• Halaf Fec, proprietor
• Residence of Sir Runic the Rump -- Martial trainer
• Marash Ar, fine horses
• Bark and Byte, drinking den -- SUD trainer

Tegel Manor, of course, is visible from just about any point in the city and can be visited after an hour's walk.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:27, Wed 18 May 2022.

"I'm heading to the lounge to grab some milk and cheese if anyone wants to join me," says Ereth before walking out the door.

Once there, he will order the special and sit down at a table to play solitaire while waiting on his meal.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:02, Wed 18 May 2022.

“Sounds good,” Cassandra replies.  “In the light of day, the milk and curd special does sound appetizing for breakfast.”

“I’ll join you and the rest of the party in the lounge for cards and breakfast shortly.  I’m going to head down into the break room to see where Chester hangs out and to see what else is down there.  If I can sneak down there on my own, I will.  But if sneaking down there is not an option, one or two other strong arms can join me.”   She smiles.

“After breakfast, I think we need to explore the town today, during the day.  There are a few places of interest to each of us, and a few we all should visit together so we can learn more about this town, the Rumps, the Manor, and why we have been brought here.”
This message was last edited by the player at 01:25, Wed 18 May 2022.

While playing solitaire, Ereth will also practice his prestidigitation to sharpen his skills and amuse himself.

Ornwin mutters "I wouldn't call that stuff appetizing, but if it's all they've got, I'll eat it." He follows Ereth and Cassandra into the lounger in search of food, wondering if his share will be poisoned after the threat last night.

Curious to see the village in the day and clear of fog, Trevion ventured to the entrance of the Emperor of Curd and stepped outside, surveying the surroundings.

Lotti runs after Trevion, hastily tightening straps on her mail as she goes.  "Hold up Tre, I'm coming too."

Once outside she turns on him talking hurriedly, excitedly.  "So what are you going to do about you know who?  I've heard holy warriors won't abide any evil and let it thrive, is that right?  Are you going to plan their destruction now?"  She makes hand movement's like she's swinging a sword and taking off someones head.

"Are you going to prey to enhance your powers and get further divine guidance?  What about that one that isn't Chester, are you going to put an end to him as well?  Did your special evil alert thing ping when you saw him as well?  How long are you allowed to let them live given they're being helpful but their hearts are black?  I know you probably don't need it, but I can help if you want.". Finally she seems to run out of steam and turns to Trevion for his response, since up until then she really hadn't given him a chance to get a word in edgeways.  "Sorry, sometimes I get excited and talk a lot."

An earnest smile reached Trevion’s normally stoic features as Lotti spoke. He blinked as he tried to process her fusillade of questions, then responded haltingly.

”I have and will continue to seek the goddess’ guidance regarding this place,” he said, looking out at the surrounding village, ”She hasn’t rendered any clear instruction to me regarding Chester, or the man at the bar. As best I can discern, neither are seeking to harm anyone, so I’m not inclined to…um…strike them down as yet. Of course, were I to learn that they were complicit in harming innocents, I would be obligated to bring a halt to their activities.”

“My suspicion, at least for now, is that they are both influenced by, or possibly even created by, something else. The source of the evil that has taken root here. It is that, whatever it may be, that should be brought to an end. Destroyed. It could be that once it is dealt with, Chester and others like him might be freed. So I think my mission is to seek out whatever is at the heart of this corruption.”

He shook his head. ”I fear that as a champion, or a holy warrior, I may be a grave disappointment. I am still struggling to understand Athena’s call and what she wants of me. Even within my own family, it seems to me that there were others who would have been far better suited for her service.”

“But this I do know. All of my training as a soldier has taught to function as part of a larger force. Alone, one such as me is limited in what they can accomplish. And that remains true now. Whatever awaits us here, it is not something that I can challenge by myself. I must stand with others, to be one of several who seek what is right. I must rely on you, Lotti. Your skills and knowledge. Yours and the others.”

He paused, then added with a smile, ”And should Athena show me one who must face quick justice, you will be the first to know. You have my word.”

Lotti beams him a smile and tilts her head a little as she nods it in apparent understanding.  "Phew, you've got a lot to think about.  I'm not going to even pretend to know or care about what's going on in the big picture.  Perhaps I'm just a small picture kinda girl, but something bad happened to someone in that room with the blood stain on the stripped bed, and that could have been one of us if we hadn't all slept in the same two rooms."

She is silent a moment as she considers what Trevino has said and what she wants to do.  "You know what, if you're okay to continue without me, I've changed my mind, I've got a question or two I want to ask Chester.  That apparent blood stain was on my mind all night, and I'd like to know a little more about it.  Direct questioning probably isn't going to give me any answers I want to hear, or provide any clarity, I think Chester is slippery, but sometimes the unexpectedly direct approach is the simplest.  You're welcome to come along, or wait a moment if you want, but if not, be careful," she looks around from where they stand before going up on her toes and turning striding back to the inn with some sort of purpose in mind.
_______________________

Once inside she'll glance to see some of the others in the dining room, before looking for Chester.

OOC:  I'll leave it there until you confirm Chester is about Host, allowing the others to post if they have time/desire.

Trevion considered Lotti’s words, then fell in behind the runner, wanting to be present to hear Chester’s explanation, and in the event the concierge responded to the questioning in an unexpected manner.

Outside the Emperor of Curd, the swirling mists have all but dissipated and the gray stone paths lead in many directions with none taking them.

Within the incommodious lounge, Ornwin, Ereth, and Cass avail themselves of what succor it might offer, mindful of stepping around the congealing mass of cottage cheese still plastered to the floor. Aloitious serves the three of them without overt hostility. Perhaps, he plays the long game. Perhaps, he can only make empty threats.

In the lobby, Chester remains stationed at his desk, his feet planted on the trapdoor that leads to the employee breakroom.

Ornwin takes a cautious bite/sip of his dish, still wondering if his "special" is more "special" than anyone else's. He remarks, "If this kills me, it has been nice knowing you all."

Seeing the others sitting and eating, Lotti diverts from her first calling towards Chester and moves over to them, happy to see that Trevion is still around.  Frowning she notices the mess still on the floor where the bowl was spilled and leans in to talk over the table, mindful that her voice doesn't carry to Aloitious for now.

"Really, you guys are shitting me.  You're happy to eat that, with that" she gives her head a slight nod to the cottage cheese mess,  "still on the floor?  If this is how they keep the public areas, what do you think it's like in the kitchen?

I'm not always the most intuitive, but doesn't anything about this place concern you enough to reconsider sitting down to eat?

I couldn't get that blood soaked bed out of my head all last night.  Someone was butchered there, and so might one of us have been if we hadn't stayed together.  Why am I so strung out about this place and you're all so calm and relaxed?". There is a slight shrill of hysteria or maybe it's just exasperation in her voice.

"At best someone died in that room, at worst it was murder, and yet they hired it out as if nothing had happened, and you're all about to chow down exactly as if nothing out of the ordinary is happening here."

"I agree that it makes no sense," said Ereth in response to Lotti's observation. "To be completely honest, ever since the carriage ride that brought us all together, I've heard a little voice in my head questioning every decision I make, and encouraging me to do things that I normally wouldn't do. It's almost like I'm under a spell of some kind."

"Maybe that's the case with everyone around here...," he wondered aloud.

"Are you talking figuratively, or for real.  Are you hearing voices?"  Lotti's question is sincere.

After sitting in the lobby for 15-20 minutes and observing Chester standing stubbornly silent and immobile manning the front desk atop the trap door that was the only visible access point leading down into the presumably dank depths of the Curd break room, and figuring that there will be other opportunities to explore the break room or search for other hidden passageways leading down into the mysterious cellar, Cass heads into the lounge to join Ornwin and Ereth at the card table, and observes them jointly playing a game of solitaire and picking over and around the lumps in the still-rancid looking food and drink - daylight having not improved the appearance or smell of the Curd’s “special.”

Not 5 seconds after she had stepped over the spilled mess from last night and sat down at the table, Lotti came bounding into the lounge, followed a few seconds later by a cool and collected Trevion.

Before Cass could say anything, Lotti launched into her verbal tirade about the whole absurd situation in which their party found themselves.  She understood why Lotti felt strung out. Cass felt the same way.  But Cass could only internalized her thoughts and feelings - not having the gift of gab and vocalization with which Lotti was gifted, especially early in the morning.

However, while Ereth and Lotti continued to talk, Cass finally gathered her own thoughts and said, “I agree with you, Lotti.  Let’s get out of this ... Inn.  We have a whole day of daylight left to explore this town.  But I don’t think we should split up, for now.  Let’s gather Otis and head out.  Shall we start off with the Mayor’s office, then work our way down from there?” she asks hopefully.

Although it only just dawns on her, Cass finds some comfort in the fact that Chester and Ali the Barkeep seem to be mostly human and, if undead, appear to be of the weaker sort that is able to function and handle their limited daily duties during daylight hours and apparently without fear of the sunlight streaming freely through the various windows of the Inn.  Cass will make these “obvious” observations known to the party, but not until they all have left the Inn.

Absent any objections from Lotti, the party will gather up all their belongings and will give Lotti sufficient time to question Chester about the Murder Room and also about how one actually summons Chester using his 4251 ext. listed on his card.

Once her questioning is complete, the entire party will head out together, into the Village, toward the Mayor’s office, with Lotti and Ornwin leading the way.

In reply to Lotti (msg # 89):

Ereth ponders Lotti's question then offers up the best answer he can. "Real or figurative? Feels real enough to me, but who knows."

"It's probably nothing- as I said, it's just a little voice. If it gets louder or angrier or more specific in its demands, I'll let you know."

Lotti is concerned, possibly more about the stability of the person she is talking to than anything else, but she tries to clearly define the voice Ereth is admitting to.  "I'm not about to get dictated to by a 'voice' she makes air quotes "in your head.  Have you ever heard this voice before the carriage?  What things has it been encouraging you to do?"

Ereth continues his discussion with Lotti.

"I don't recall ever hearing the voice before the carriage ride, and to be clear, it doesn't really 'dictate' what I do, much less what you or anyone else ought to do. It's more like a narrator most of the time. Only rarely will it make suggestions, which are more like subtle hints, e.g., that I should try the nasty food and drink at the Inn, or play cards, or explore other people's bedrooms."

Ereth adds, "I don't think it means any harm. And frankly it's been pretty quiet lately, so... there's probably nothing to worry about."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:39, Thu 19 May 2022.

If Ereth's explanation of the voices was meant to settle Lotti, it didn't appear to do so.  Perhaps it was his assertion that he thought the voice was probably nothing to worry about that allowed her to move on, or perhaps she had other things on her mind.  "Right whose ready for a fight?  We need to get Otis down here before we start anything, but I'm not going to allow those who aren't alive to wander around in this world in which we live in.  They're an abhorrence to everything I hold dear."

OOC:  My bad, I was a little lax with reading into the meaning of some of the initial posting that our Host provided to describe the scenario we're in.  I see we're staying in a hotel where something has been butchered, and the place is served by evil undead.  Lotti wouldn't really care about any picture bigger than that, as far as she is concerned this is wrong on every level.  I'm not sure what I'm missing that everyone else seems okay to treat this as a standard inn, but Lotti certainly couldn't.

In reply to Lotti:

OOC: Nevermind.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:23, Fri 20 May 2022.

As the party assembles in the dusty lobby of the Emperor of Curd Inn, Cass reviews the list of full services offered at the Inn printed on the back of Chester’s contact card.

Ah!  She sees something of interest.  She turns to the quirky Bell Hop.

“Chester! We are headed into town to see the Mayor.  My boots are a mess from our accident in the bog last night.  May I take advantage of your complementary shoeshine to get my boots cleaned before we meet the town Mayor?  I’d hate to make a bad first impression or track in mud onto his nice rugs.”

“Also.  Just curious.  How do we use these numbers 4-2-5-1 to contact or reach you, when you are not stationed at the front desk or if we need your assistance upstairs in one of our rooms?”

Cass muses and smiles to herself when she realizes that she didn’t have any mud tracking reservations when they entered Chester’s Inn last night...
This message was last edited by the player at 17:02, Fri 20 May 2022.

While Cass speaks with Chester, Ereth keeps a close eye on Lotti, ready to intervene if she makes any moves. With a barely audible chuckle, it occurs to him that she occupies a spot in the "no-go" zone on the crazy/hot matrix.

At Cass's mild exhortation that the terms of the contract be upheld in both spirit and letter, Chester smiles agreeably, "Yes, we are a full-service hotel including complementary bootshine. If you'll just leave your boots outside your room after you settle in, I will be by to tend to their shine."

There is a light crinkle to his smile as if to say, "You didn't expect me to drop down on my knees in front of everyone, did you?"

As to Cass's other inquiry, Chester's answer proves less than satisfying, "I don't know, to be sure. That service might not be ready yet. In time it might be of service to you."

"I am always here or down below, you know? Just ring my bell if it's the latter," he adds.

With Lotti hellbent on investigating the so-called "murder room," the rest of you hasten to depart the Emperor of Curd and follow Chester's directions down the gray stone roads to the House of Ternelmor, the mayor's residence, easily the least decrepit one that you pass. After two guards show you in, you meet the mayor in his office, seated at the head of a 12-seat oaken table. Gloriously corpulent, he considers pushing aside his trough of duck cassoulet only to reconsider and ladle a few more helpings down into his waiting gullet. With a gurgling swallow, he then turns to you, "You're here about Sarthoggus and his cultists, aren't you?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:37, Fri 20 May 2022.

Ereth takes a moment to look around the room to see if anyone else in the party wants to take the lead. Seeing no one step up, he offers a response, "Thank you for agreeing to meet with us, your honor." He then adds, hesitantly, "May I?" as he proceeds to take a seat.

Barring any immediate objection from the mayor, he continues speaking, while sitting.

"I'm afraid we are unfamiliar with these things you speak of. We've arrived here somewhat by chance, but perhaps we could be of service to you. Would you mind explaining more about this 'Sarthoggus' ...and his 'cultists'?" while motioning for the others to sit as well.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:38, Sat 21 May 2022.

Ornwin takes a seat and says, "I do not know this Sarthoggus or his cultists, but if they are a problem that can be solved with an ax, mine is for hire."

Cass, too, takes a seat at the table, in a chair next to Ornwin.

“Your Honor.  Thank you kindly for granting us an audience.  My name is Cassandra, and I am a Priestess of Eir.  My companions and I were chosen to come to the aid of your Village.  Although details were scant, it is our understanding that your town is in dire need of assistance, of some sort, with the local Manor that is about an hour walk from here and visible from much of the town proper.  But, we are most certainly available to help you deal with any other problems facing your town that might be addressed by a group with our unique combination of talents.”

“We were supposed to arrive in town just prior to sunset last evening on the Tegel Village Coach.  Alas, our coach was waylaid by a pack of large, carnivorous amphibians, which forced our coach off the road and into the bog.  We managed barely to escape the confines of the sinking coach and then we fought off the acrobatic hoppers, but not before our coachman was eaten by one of the giant frogs.  And sadly, despite heroic efforts by my stout companions here, the bog would not release its mortal grip upon the coach or either of the draft horses.  The bog refused to give them up and sucked them down into the depths of the muck and mire.”

“We then made our way on foot into town last night, saddened, worn, and weary from the frog attack. Fortunately, we were offered lodging, as the fog rolled into town, at the only establishment that appeared to be open at that late hour - an inn that the staff calls ‘The Emperor of Curd.’  Strange little place. The helpful bellhop, Chester, was kind enough to provide directions from the Inn to your office.  So.  That is our story and here we are.  We got here as quickly as we could this morning.

“Please let us know how we can help you and your lovely town.”
This message was last edited by the player at 06:08, Sat 21 May 2022.

Cass's peroration provides the gourmand ample time to pour more ladles of the cassoulet down his bobbing throat, leaving his lips oleaginous with duck fat. With one sweep of his tongue, he licks the fat off, save for a globule that remains nestled between the leftmost juncture of lower and upper lip.

He nearly barks in reply, "Sarthoggus. Frog cultists. What do you need, a roadmap?"

Registering your quizzical looks, he explains, "It's about big frog men! In tabards! Both physically and mentally!"

He looks at you all again.

"You're staying at the Curd? That dump?"

Without offering an alternative, "Scotch Sarthoggus. Rub out the Rumps. That's your contract."

That's the last his eyes see of you, focused as they are on guiding his fingers in plucking up the white beans that had jumped overboard onto the table.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:31, Sun 22 May 2022.

Having seen and heard enough, Ereth leans toward Cass and whispers, "His Honor is obviously a very busy and important man. Perhaps he could delegate these trivial matters to a member of his staff? (And that way maybe we could get answers to our questions, not to mention a look at this 'contract' he's offering?)"

Ornwin murmurs "Indeed we could use more details, especially about what the frog cult worships. Big frogs don't bother me, but a frog god might be a greater challenge."

Whooshing past with a trough to replace the despoiled one, Ternelmor's valet, for whom no word goes unheard, answers, "Sarthoggus, High Priest of Tsathoggus, a demonic frog god. Don't."

With the grease-splattered trough in hand, he adds on his way out, "No official contract per se. Bring heads or trophies and be rewarded. The master likes heads."

It is the way of the master's man to make his master's wishes known to all who would serve him.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:03, Sun 22 May 2022.

Cass rises from her seat, the meeting with the peculiar Mayor of Tegel Village obviously concluded.

Still somewhat confused and discombobulated, Cass nods to both Ereth and Ornwin acknowledging the points they had both made.  The valet’s additional information fills in some of the gaps.

Cass bows her head to the Mayor and says: “We will do our best to handle this mission, as you have requested.  Thank you again for your time.”

She makes her way out of the Mayor’s office and back out onto the street, assuming the rest of the party will follow in due course.

Once the party assembles outside, Cass states to the group: “Looks like we have a couple of other establishments in town that might be able to fill in some gaps in information about the Manor, not including any of the specialty trainers that we each will need to visit at some point.  We have:

- Halef Fec, proprietor of general supplies, presumably;
- the Residence of Sir Runic the Rump, who presumably is related to the Rump Family of Tegel Manor;
- Marash Ar, fine horses, who may be helpful in the future for providing riding or pack animal, when we have coin to spend; and
- Bark and Byte, the local drinking den, where we might find better lodging, or at least some local gossip.”

“Where do y’all want to go first?  I’m thinking Sir Runic, then the Bark and Byte, and then the general store last, if anyone needs supplies before we head out of town.  But I don’t feel strongly about the order if anyone thinks we should go in a different order or meet with some of the local fighters, clerics, or the Village mage.  And, I’m sure the local thieves’ guild will have information, but I doubt anyone else will be able to visit them.”

Trevion had been silently contemplating the meeting with the mayor as the travelers exited the residence. If the account was accurate, doing away with those who gave their allegiance to a demonic deity was a worthwhile undertaking, if nothing else to ensure the safety of the people who made the area their home.

”It may seem an odd suggestion, coming from me,” Trevion said, ”but the Bark and Byte might be worth visiting next. Besides seeking safer lodging, it is possible that some of the local residents that patronize the place know more about this cult of Tsathoggus and its activities.”

Cass turns to Trevion and says, “The Bark and Byte sounds fine to me - as long as the establishment is patronized during the day and not just at dinner time or later.  Even if empty, the bar keep or some of the servers might know something of value.”

“But, our unwritten contract with the Mayor is to go to Rump Manor. Both the Mayor and his valet said NOT to go after the frog god or the frog cultists for the time being.”

“Given that we are low on coin, getting some bounty out of Rump Manor would seem to be the first order of business.”

“But, hopefully, we can learn more about both issues at the tavern.”

“Otis, Ornwin: any strong feelings from you on where we go first?”
This message was last edited by the player at 19:36, Sun 22 May 2022.

Brant looks around the group as if seeing them for the first time.
"I've held my tongue long enough. Next time I set foot in that manor will be to burn the place down. The tavern sounds like a good start, if only to get  a decent drink. Maybe we'll learn something about Rump."

“Sounds like a plan!” Cassandra states.

“Wow!  The fighter finally speaks.  Well met, Brant!  You’ve been silent since our encounter with the giant frogs down in the bog.  I was concerned that you might not ever recover from the shock of that attack.  We’ve all been a bit dazed since last night.  But glad to finally hear your voice.  And good timing, too!”

“You probably overheard me talking with the others last night, but I am Cassandra.  I’m a healer; a priestess of Eir, the Norse Goddess of Healing.  The others can formally introduce themselves along the way or once we get to the Bark and Byte tavern.  Let’s see what information we can gather about the Tegel Manor and even about the Frog God and his cultists while we eat.  I think all of us could stand to have a good meal and drink after the curdled slop we were offered at the Emperor of Curd Inn.”

Although not hearing a definitive Yea or Nay on the next destination from everyone else in the group, there seemed to be a general consensus that the party could use some good food and drink; thus, the Bark and Byte as the next stop seemed to outweigh all the other immediate options for gathering intel in the Village and the party was drawn willingly in the direction of the tavern.  The other potential sources of information in the Village would likely still be available after lunch. The party fell into a loose formation and headed along the cobblestone walkway toward the tavern - the group collectively hopeful and optimistic that the tavern and its occupants would provide a little more normalcy and information than the first two establishments they had visited thus far.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:03, Mon 23 May 2022.

"The sun (if ever there was a sun above this region) had been lost for I knew not how long in a sky of leaden vapors; the day was drear and sullen at best."

--From a Diary of an Unknown Penitent

When you emerge from the manse of Ternelmor, unfed and unwatered, you look to the sky for some semblance of the time and find none. No matter. You've earned it. A drink. Just a nip. It doesn't matter what time it is. You'll just pop into the bar. Pop in and out. Won't take but a bit.

Adhering to Chester's directions, which seem to work from any point of departure, you follow the gray stone until you reach the Bark and Byte, a dive crammed between shuttered and barred stone houses, one pressed up against the other as far as the path goes. It's open as all such places must be at all times to slake the thirsts of those who awaken with them.

Within you find no cozy, crackling fire to keep out the cold or big-bellied barkeep to jovially tap off your tankards. Instead a slatternly dwarf pauses their desultory mopping of some spill or other and turns their attention to you. With an unsavory grin, they greet you, "Feeling a little twitchy, are we? Don't you worry. I got a little something for each and every one of you."
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:52, Tue 24 May 2022.

Brant gives the the dwarf a dead-eye stare.
"Is there nowhere in this piss-poor excuse of a village for a person to find a happy, pot-bellied tavern-keeper with a steady tap and plates full of spiced potatoes? I suppose the best you have to offer are the drippings from a rust-covered bed pan?"
Brant sighs heavily, finished
This message was last edited by the player at 21:27, Tue 24 May 2022.

In reply to Cassandra (msg # 107):

Ornwin bows respectfully to the mayor in the dwarven manner, so deeply his beard nearly touches the floor while he waves his hood before his face, and then follows Cass out.

Ornwin eyes the dwarven barkeeper a little dubiously,n but does his best to sound hearty "Well met, Fellow Son of Stone! I trust the ancient dwarven custom of hospitality is worthily upheld here! By our dwarven kinship I dare claim your aid for my comrades and me."

Ereth takes a moment to assess the situation, then sidles up next to Ornwin at the bar. "The natural affinity among dwarvenkind is renowned! It is truly a wondrous thing." After pausing, he adds, "Please forgive our young companion here (nodding toward Brant). He is indeed a bit "twitchy." Perhaps you might have something to help sort him out?"
This message was last edited by the player at 20:29, Tue 24 May 2022.

Orwin's high diction momentarily perplexes the slatternly barkeep before they offer a lascivious wink, "Ah, I know what you want. You want the first one on the house."


Already on their way back to behind the counter, they turn in response to Ereth's request, their threadbare shift slipping off their shoulder as they do so, the primary work of which would seem to be revealing rather than concealing.

"Just him, you say? I can sort all of you out, I can. That's what I'm here for."

They reach under the bar counter and produce six nipperkins of various flavors, raspberry fizz, low-down watermelon, the assimilated apricot, hurdy gurdy clementine, nip-flavored, and bourbon, line them up, and look at you expectantly.

"First is on the house," they repeat, with an expansive sweep of their right arm, which causes their night shift to shift even further down the arm, exposing a contoured expanse of chest. Pecs? Breast? Both? None can say without personally assaying the matter.

Unable to avail himself of strong drink, Trevion kept a few paces back from the bar, but listened intently to his companions’ conversation with the barkeep.

Cassandra is unsure what she has gotten into.  She stays back with Trevion, not particularly interested in the concoctions or the suggestive services being offered by the burly dwarf bar maiden.

Ereth feels a sudden and overwhelming urge to leave this place, but then he hears the little "voice" urging him to stay and sample the strange libations. Unable to decide on a course of action, he remains silent and still, waiting to see Ornwin's reaction.

Ornwin feels obliged to take a sip of whatever beverage the barkeep may offer him.

Although not interested in experiencing the serving wench’s extracurricular services being offered, Cass reconsiders her awkward withdrawal from the bar and decides she would like to experience one of the strange looking but sweet smelling concoctions.  “Ereth.  I’d like to try the apricot.”
This message was last edited by the player at 02:23, Wed 25 May 2022.

Ereth hands the apricot nip to Cass then grabs two more (the raspberry and the watermelon) and distributes them to Brant and Otis, respectively. Assuming they accept the glasses from him, he then offers the bourbon to Ornwin and takes the clementine for himself. Lastly, he offers the "nip-flavored" drink to the barkeep, asking if they will join us in a toast.

He then turns to Ornwin, "Will you do the honors, Ornwin of the House of Unwin?"
This message was last edited by the player at 02:21, Wed 25 May 2022.

Brant accepts the little glass of raspberry drink from Ereth, nodding in thanks.
He peers at it suspiciously, his mind cataloguing the many painful and long-lasting forms of suffering that will likely result from its consumption.
Then, with an iron resolve, he waits for the dwarf to pronounce his death sentence.

Cassandra holds the glass with apricot liquor up to her nose and breathes in deeply.  The apricot smell reminds her of something. A time.  A place. Almost forgotten, but triggered by the aroma.  She remembers the time, several years back, she had just come of age. She was in the Greenfeld forest near her little town of Farnsworth.  Her thoughts remembered the warm summer afternoon, sitting in the shade of a maple tree, next to Old Man Thomas’s orchard.  She smiles at the memory - a happy time and place, far from here.

Her thoughts return to the present. Her smile fading briefly, as she remembers where she now is. But she turns to Otis and offers up the heartiest smile she can muster, just for him, as she raises her glass and encourages Otis to take up his glass of spiked watermelon and says, “Cheers, Otis!  It is going to be ok.”

She then turns back to Ornwin and, in her excitement, chugs her drink without waiting for the Dwarf to make his official toast on behalf of the party.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:50, Thu 26 May 2022.

Otis! Otis! Otis!

"Usually he took most of his calories in liquid form…he would willingly exchange an entrée or a dessert for an extra ration of alcohol."

---From the Chronicles of a Police Inspector

One after the other, save for the abstemious paladin, you down your nips, licking your lips clean after you do so. The flavors are exactly as advertised, redolent of days gone by for some and suggestive of future pleasures for others.

As for the barkeep, they demure, unwilling to drink while on duty, adhering, apparently, to some personal code of conduct.

"Now, that you're starting to feel more like yourselves, what can I get you?" they offer, having restored the stringy shoulder strap of their shift back to its proper position. Behind them stands a vast array of dusty bottles, row after row of them, with one row almost entirely green in color. You could do some serious drinking here. It's not like Tegel Manor's going anywhere. Why not take good care of yourselves for once in your life? You've earned it.

The nip-flavored nip remains on the counter.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:51, Fri 27 May 2022.

Brant tries in vain to maintain his surly demeanor but in the end succumbs and falls into the nearest stool or chair.
"Bourbon!" he calls, "and in a bigger glass!"

"What is it?" the half-human replies, trying to figure out what's been going on.

Ornwin raises his head from his first sip and only then understands he was supposed to offer a toast. He says "To the health of King Durin and all the company!" and takes a deeper draft of his drink.

“Hear!  Hear!” Cass raises her now empty glass and cheers in response to Ornwin’s belated but hearty toast.

She turns back to Otis and says, “Otis, I’m not sure I understand your question.  If the IT you are referring to is your drink, I think yours is watermelon.  If the IT you are referring to is the barkeep, your guess is as good as mine.” Lotti whispers to Otis to avoid offending the barkeep.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:36, Thu 26 May 2022.

Ereth raises his (empty) glass, echoes Cass's, "Hear, hear!" and (pretends to) drink to King Durin. He then nods at Otis, encouraging him to follow suit (only to discover that Otis's drink is back on the bar).
This message was last edited by the player at 03:59, Thu 26 May 2022.

 "So, uh, barkeep. What do you know about Rump and his manor? Word on the street is the mayor has it in for him. What's that all about?"

Otis necks the drink.

Having drained his glass to the dwarven king, Ornwin waits a bit wondering if he will feel the effects of a deadly poison. If he does not, he just sets his glass down on the counter and endorses Brant's question "Aye, there's strange little ditty about the Rumps going around, so we would be curious to know more of them before we venture into their home manor."

Although interested to hear the bartender’s answer to Brant’s question regarding the hostilities between the the Rump family and the mayor, Trevion saunters back over to the tavern’s entrance, peering outside, curious to see if there are any villagers moving about the quiet streets.

When Trevion reaches the dive's entrance, an early bird, though not as early as some birds, in a frayed top hat and stained frock coat, waltzes in and catches the paladin in a loose embrace and does a half-turn about him, singing a ditty as he does so, the breath of his corruption washing over Trevion.

I get up around seven
Get outta bed around nine
And I don't worry about nothin' no
'Cause worryin's a waste of my time.

The man's waltz takes him all the way over to the bar where the dwarf has already started to shimmy in response to the man's dance. Still shimmying, their shift fluttering about their midriff, they retrieve a tumbler and a bottle of whiskey and pour out a finger. Picking up the melody, they continue the number:

I used ta do a little but a little wouldn't do
So the little got more and more
I just keep tryin' ta get a little better
Said a little better than before.

With each vocalization of "more," they add another finger to the tumbler until it stands at three fingers tall.

The bartender then repeats the process, this time with a bottle of bourbon for Brant, favoring him with with a sardonic leer with each added finger.

"Rumps, not Rump. Innumerable Rumps -- enough for a royal romp amongst the Rumps."

"Now, the mayor," they continue. "He has it out for everybody. He is insatiable. He'd devour us were he to be deprived of his cassoulet."

Sashaying over to Orwin, they aver that the Rumps are "bloody awful" but "Sir Runic's the one decent one of the lot."

"But I don't go over to the manor. That's for adventurers such as yourselves. Nobody in their right mind would go there."
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:10, Sat 28 May 2022.

In reply to The Host (msg # 137):

Brant downs the bourbon without a moment's hesitation and then ponders the bartender's words.
'Sounds like it is Runic vs the Mayor, and I'm leaning a little towards Team Runic. Anyone up for checking out the manor?

"Yes," replies Otis, not one to waste two words when one will suffice.

With the party now being in general agreement and united in purpose, the members of the Party seated at the bar settle up with the barkeep, offer the barkeep thanks for the drinks and information, and join the rest of the group outside the tavern as they mustering and prepare for travel to The Manor.

On the assumption that it is still close to high noon of Day 1, the Manor is about an hour walk from the Village, and no items (potions, scrolls, maps, etc) are currently affordable or otherwise were given to Otis on his quick reconnaissance to several establishments in the Village prior to our arrival at the tavern, the Party sets out toward The Tegel Manor.

One of the suitable marching orders (previously proposed by Ereth in OOC) will be used - depending on the layout/width of the road/path from the Village to the Manor.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:07, Sat 28 May 2022.

So be it. Ornwin takes up his position to protect the party if needed and goes with them through the town.

With a dismissive gesture, the bartender dismisses Cass's offer of payment, "I'll just keep a tab for you. You'll be back, won't you? I might like to hear a tale or two of those rambunctious Rumps."

No, nooo, don't leave. There is no exit, I tell you, no exit.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:20, Sat 28 May 2022.