Gameplay - The Dragon Who Asked Too Much

The next day passes quickly. As you recover your wounds, friends and family of those who fought in the war pester you with questions about the fate of those they loved. Apparently, there were humans involved as well, although from your vantage you saw little of them. Still, each mother and spouse of a combatant feels the need to hear it directly. By the end of the day, you are preparing for another bout of inquiries as the supper hour nears. But you hear something, a whisper of miles, and quietly grabbing your things, move to the upstairs of the inn. There, the best pixie of all is waiting for you. MystWynd!

"Whew, I've been yelling for hours (it feels like). We have to go. Pananthys wants you to go to the tribute cave."

The brass dragon guardian of the valley, takes her payment in art and craft of the village, and these items are left in a special cave not overly far from the village.

You find yourselves, possibly relieved from the sad implorings of the villagers, eager to visit with the huge dragon, and perhaps her wyrmling Zoboanth, as well.

Climbing onto the rear balcony you find an uneasy climb to the ground and the hippogriffs waiting for you. Mounting, they jump quietly into the air and you fly off.

Scarce minutes later, instead of the hours it took to walk, your fierce mounts screech their cries and land outside the cave. You, too, can feel the presence, the undeniable draconic might.

Gingerly stepping inside, you find yourselves in a comfortably warm cave. The Dragon mistress sits at the far end, sitting not unlike a cat, although her head is lowered on its long neck due to the ceiling height.

"Interlopers, you came to my call. For that another thank you is added to the long list of my gratitude. A list that will only grow. Before I impose upon you once more, I will do my best to answer any questions you must have."

Garth bows.

I have no questions, other than how one so might was captured. Is there someone out there with that kind of power.

Hehsh walks hesitantly forward. "I want to know where I came from. I am like you but different. When I first met Zoboanth, it was the first time I saw someone like myself. Later on, I found that I could speak and read a language I never knew I knew. How? Do you know who could have left me in the woods?"

Hasan stays stoic but in awe, keeping his mouth quite he awaits his new task just thankful the town is safe(r) now.

Ruby likewise stays respectively quiet, but anyone looking will notice her pleased-as-peach grin at the visual reminder of their liberation.

The dragon blows out in a huff, flames tickling the edge of her lips. "I was lured into a trap, with that infernal magic netting that rendered me incapable of moving. I do not know who made it, lest I would ensure that they learned a lesson in meddling in the affairs of dragons. I have hidden the net, and woe be to those who go looking."

To Hehsh, she says, "I know much about you, young one. It was with my agreement that you were placed with the druids of Albionii. You have the blood of dragons running through you, as one of your true parents was a Bronze dragon and the other of a mortal race. As to why, this is not my secret to share. For that, you will need to seek out your father, the wyrm Mordenth."

Hehsh's frills flare in shock. "Where is he?"

Panantyss leans her head closer on her long sinewy neck. Her nictating eyelids close once, and she hisses, "I am sssso glad you assssked."

She draws back, sitting even more regally. "My mate, Veringvox, is missing. I suspect the Vermilion Reavers, but cannot be certain. Mordenth feared that he was being hunted, and I have grown to believe that these events are related. Find the wyrm Mordenth and find out what he knows. Then find Veringvox and free him. I promise you rewards worthy of the tasks, but more importantly, you will be greatly bolstering the defenses of these lands. I assure you, the Empress will not be as easily defeated as her warband in the desert was."

She sighs, as if about to do something distasteful. "Agree and I will share what I know."

I have sworn to protect these lands. If helping you does that, then I consider it a win win situation. I am in.

"An Empress? Will there be more war?"

Hehsh nods silently, his gaze intense and unwavering.

Hasan nods, "I will do what I can to protect my town."

Pananthys closes her eyes cat like, seeming grateful.

"Mordenth can be found in the independent city of Blackwater. He maintains an elven persona of da'Norto Illianstar, whose reputation is as colorful as his name. Find Mordenth, and then tell him that he and I met in a thunderstorm under a full moon, and he will assist you as he would me."

There is a clambering outside the cave, and a dwarf stalks in from the night, lither than you would suspect.

OOC: Mountain dwarves consider anything that lives in caves and prevents evil creatures descending into their mines a natural ally. But their bond with metallic dragons goes beyond this. The dwarven debts, accumulated over eons, to these dragons is deeper than any shaft - and dwarves always repay their debts. Like all important debts - they’re written in red. There was never a question of whether the Cloudsea mine would come to Pananthy’s aid, but who they would send on the hippogriff.

Mavis shivers, her hands visibly shaking from the flight induced fear. She wipes the tears, wrung from hours of screwed up eyes, from her cheeks. She starts to speak, babbling, the words tumbling out of her.

"‘ow do. I’m on mi sen, ‘cos we’d nowt but the one flying ‘oss"

Mavis’s brain catches up his her mouth, and reminds her that her thick dwarven ‘cludsi’ accent is hardly an appropriate greeting for the grand dragon.

She tries again, this time with more decorum...
"Ah, Umm.. Cloudsea ‘eard call, O noble Pananthys, and ahm ‘ere to lend hand, as best as can any’ow. Umm.. magnificent one"
...not entirely successfully.

Mavis bows to the dragon so deeply that her back-slung crossbow nearly slides over her head. She rearranges herself and turns to the others bowing (less deeply).

As a Forge Cleric, Garth has a natural respect for dwarves.

Garth bows in return.

Greetings brother. May your forge burn bright.

"I have no idea what she's saying." She whispers to Hehsh.

Ruby returns the bow, figuring it must be a cultural thing. "Hello. I'm Ruby, the flying fist of the coast, and eater of souls, at least that's what they keep telling me."

Heshsh whispers back. "Me neither. It sounds like she has an orcish accent." To Hasan he whispers, "Remember our people skills and don't point your crossbow at her like you did me the first time we met." Aloud he says "My name is-wait. Who calls you the eater of souls? I don't call you that. Hasan do you call her that?"

"The kids do. And a...bard? My memory of the other night is hazy, but I'm pretty sure that's when it started. Why, what do they call you?" Ruby never was one for social etiquette.

Mavis, relieved that introductions are out the way, steps to join the group.

Her flustered, flight-addled mind trying to commit names to memory. Sandra, back at the Cloudsea, told her that when meeting new people one should try and picture their name alongside a representation of them.

So, we have Ruby, eater of souls. Okay, picture a small hard ruby. Red tunic, red ruby.
Did the dragonborn say their name was "Wait"? Or was that an interjection? Probably best wait for introductions. It wouldn't do to call "Wait!" if they were ambushed.
She searches her memory. Did she get other names? Did she give hers?
This isn't working. Oh well, nowt to be done about it now - maybe later when they brew up.

She nods at Garth returning his greeting.
"An' ore allus be pure."
Which is as close to the formally correct "And your ore always be pure" as she'll get until her nerves are under control.

As she reaches the group she quickly confides, "A'reet. Ah'm Mavis", and turns her attention to Pananthys.

OOC: Don't worry. Mavis's accent will soften. I've just decided that one of her character traits is that she lapses into a Yorkshire dialect in times of stress.

Mavis, my name is Garth.

Hasan wisper back to Hehsh, "Well we were under duress and a difficult situation when you came up, Its more.. calm now."

"I've never called you that either. You'll have to tell us these bardic stories how that name came to be then Ruby."
"Greetings, I'm Hasan with the City Guard."

"I have gifts for you, rewards for my rescue and to assist you in the deeds to come."

She offers each of you the choice or either a magical weapon or a magical armor (make your choice of base type or weapon or armor and I'll tell you what magic item she gives you), other than Ruby who already has such a weapon, whom she offers a Robe of Billowing (billows at will).

Garth bows low.

You are as generous as you are powerful. If it pleases you, a staff would be my preferred choice. If you have none, then armour or a crossbow would work as well.

"Thank you your dragon-ness, I shall use this wisely." Ruby bows respectfully, already excited to try out this robe.

Mavis hangs back, feeling like she's gatecrashed a private celebration. She also feels vicarious pride, such gifts! What a heroic party of adventurers she has joined to deserve gifts such as these, and from such a noble dragon.

She approaches Ruby, admiring the robe and casting a professional eye over the rare dyes used in its construction.

"Eeh, that looks champion on ye, Ruby. Oh aye, if looks could kill then tha'd not need other weaponry."Mavis attempts a smile, but her face translates the unfamiliar request into a leer. Mavis, realising she’s spent a lot of time staring at the stitching on the robe’s chest, snaps her eyes back to meet Ruby’s gaze. She compounds her faux pas with a friendly wink.

Garth, Ruby, and Hehsh have chosen.

Hasan and Mavis (yes, she includes you)?

Mavis's eyes are drawn to a plain, dull, dark dagger. Its slender, slightly curving blade and narrow quillion make it look like a long claw or spur.
Nodding thanks to Pananthys, she takes it, intrigued by it's lack of adornment.
Turning the blade, Mavis catches glimpses of runes running down the blade. They seem to picked out in the same metal but textured differently. A different alloy?
There's a slight groove running down the blade which, in Mavis's experience, means that it was intended to be used with poison.

Although Mavis isn't a smith, she's still a dwarf and she searches her memory for who might have created a blade such as this.Not drow. If 'twere drow then she'd expect to see it overly decorated with spiders.
It doesn't have the sturdy, chunkiness of the dwarves or duergar.
Svirfneblin? Why would the deep, secret gnomes of the underdark need an unreflective dagger in a world without light?
No, it's a mystery to Mavis, but a pleasing one.

Nodding thanks again to Pananthys she walks back to the group admiring the craftsmanship of the weapon.

Ruby absolutely thinks Mavis is hitting on her. Her eyes widen for a second, and a small blush adorns her face. "Oh, why uh, thank you." She scratches the back of her neck, gazing everywhere but at Mavis. She's rather...forward.

The dragon uses telekinesis to move the items to each of you. A robe for Ruby, a pearl stone for Hehsh, a hand crossbow for Hasan, a 8 inch carved serpent for Garth, and the dagger for Mavis.

"Go forth, and use these items with honor in the defense of innocent life. Much rests on your shoulders, but please know I, too, will be working in defiance of tyranny. Together, we might rewrite destiny."

You feel dismissed.

"Thank you kindly." Hasan says as he inspects the weapon.

The snake wraps itself around Garth's arm with the head of the snake appearing to drink from the silver inlaid in his tattoo. He stares at it in wonder.

Thank you for this amazing gift, I will endeavor to use it for good.

These new items will require attunement, basically an hour of attention and contact, save Ruby's robe which just works.

Mavis recites a formal goodbye in Dwarvish, and turns to the party.

Does this party have a leader? Mavis, a stickler for discipline and order, wonders
I suppose Hassan as a city guard has the most authority. Perhaps he’s waiting for us to signal our readiness to leave.

Reet! No sense in faffin’ ‘bout. Off t’ City of Blackwater was it?

Mavis turns to leave, then turns back, somewhat abashed,

Errr.. does anyone have foggiest ‘ow we get there?

Garth has been staring at his gift and only half listening to the conversation. Then something tweaks him back to attention.

Blackwater? Oh, I can get us to Blackwater. I was born and raised there.

Oh aye? Is this some sort a’game? Is tha’ going to mime it, or do we ask yes no questions ‘til we give up an’ you give us clue?

The exasperated Mavis exclaims. Sorry lad, don’t mean to be so mardy. Is it far away? Do we walk, tek carriage or catch ship?

"Yes, we shouldn't dally, whats the way to get there?"

Calm down, I don't think a minute to think will cause the end of days. While it is normally an arduous journey North along the coast, across the Isthmus of storms and then and then to the northern coast of the inland sea.

He looks around and continues on.

However, using the hippogriffs we can do it in 3 days. If we leave early in the morning we could rest the first night in Mourning Town. A quiet place where we should have no problems. The second night would be Great Delta, a much rougher town. Keep your hands on your purse there. Then at the end of the third day, we should make Blackwater.

I am not weighed down with gold, so I am not sure if we could sell some of the stack of weapons and armour that we seem to have.
We will need 30 pieces of gold for lodging and food for the journey. Only high end inns have stabling for hippogriffs

On hearing the plan, all of Mavis’s instincts are to raise objections. How bad could the Isthmus of Storms be? What if we walked, like, really really fast? No, I mean really fast.

But in her heart Mavis knows that she can’t disgrace the honour of the Cloudsea before they even start this phase of the adventure. She can’t admit how much flying terrifies her; that she spent the entire journey here with her eyes screwed shut, praying to every God she knew (including a few that she might have made up).

Sure, on landing they’d probably tease her about the way she screamed the whole way, but the key point was they would have to land to do that- which meant they wouldn’t have spiralled into the ground from a thousand feet.

Ashen faced, lower lip quivering, Mavis speaks:
Cloudsea gave me fifty gold coins, if that’ll ‘elp.

Hehsh nods to Pananthys. "Thank you. I... look forward to meeting my father." To the group he says, "I agree, selling our trophies should pay our way."

You know that you won't be able to get good prices in Allaya's Cove. It is too small for the need for surplus weapons. However, Mourning Town is large enough and a trading town to boot.

Shall we get our gear together and get in the air?

Garth bows again to the dragon and turns to leave.

You gather your new things, and return to the hippogriffs. You notice that they look well fed and rested, especially Mavis' who shows no signs of the prior long flight. It isn't that the hippogriff is particularly resilient, but more that its strength has been restored somehow. In addition, the hippogriffs are all wearing full saddles now, which should make your journey much safer. There are places to tie your gear behind the saddle if you wish to do so.

Eager to be off, the hippogriffs snap playfully at you, but lower a shoulder to allow you to mount up.

A man in wilderness clothes can be seen sitting in the forest nearby, your saddler undoubtedly, as he rolls a leather rein around his arm. He nods to you and continues to care for his gear.

Men have marched to the scaffold with more enthusiasm than Mavis shows walking to her mount.

Some dwarves have traveled far and wide, not Mavis, she’s traveled far and deep. Her whole wide world didn’t have the first "w". Mavis is a traditionalist, a proper delver. She’d never liked the idea of wide open skies above her, let alone below her.

She approaches the side of the beast with trepidation and nimbly mounts it, as though riding hippogriffs came as naturally to dwarves as singing about gold.By ‘eck, I ‘opes there’s chance of nice hot brew when we get to Mourning t’n. All this flyin’ ‘bout t’ place is leavin’ me gaspin’’.
Mavis shouts to the party, hoping her nervous prattling disguises her anxiety.

Hehsh shakes his head atthe dwarf's antics. Recognizing the Hypogryph from the battle, he greets it. "Hello my friend. It is good to see you.

Upon exiting the cave Ruby looks for the first chance to leap onto a boulder and cause her robe to billow as she stands tall.

When they reach their mounts she rushes up to hers, scratching them under the chin. "To think I'd be traveling once again, it's kind of exciting actually."

"Where did you travel before this?"

On seeing Ruby’s robe billow majestically around her small frame, Mavis sits up and makes the Obama ‘not bad’ face. She then hunkers back down, grips her harness tightly, checks her tray is in the upright position, and is ready for take off.

Ruby hops on her mount, getting situated. "Uproot, it's a halfling settlememt up north. Well it was, before...it's not around anymore." Ruby has a hint of sadness as she doesn't explain what exactly happened "I traveled with this older man Jorge for a while, taught me everything I know, well not everything. We went...east first? Maybe directly south for a while. He settled down somewhere, and I ended up here."

Garth approaches the saddler.

Will you be coming with us? If not, will the inns have someone trained to do it? I have some training with horses, but not with these fine creatures.

The saddler waves you away. "Nah, a saddle's a saddle, but don't tell yon missus, she thinks my stars rise with the sun!"

A faint rumbling can be heard from the cave.

Garth chuckles.

Your secret is safe with me.

Garth mounts the hippogriff and prepares for the leap 8nto the sky.

Garth is suddenly walking through a battlefield. The members of his regiment lay dead. There are scores of dead goblins, his friends had killed ten for each of their own, but they were vastly outnumbered.
As he walks through the rows of the dead he is wracked with guilt. Why did he survive when all these worthy men died? What made him special?
Then out of the mist came his father. Maybe he was dead after all. His father had died years ago, maybe he was here to take him to Gond personally.

Father, it is good to see you, even if you must be a spectre.

His father laughs and approaches.

I may be dead, but I am no spectre, boy. You're head always was in the clouds.

It sure sounded like his father, that was one of his usual complaints.

I am here because I could feel your self pity and hear your whinging in the grave. Look son, you have been around soldiers all your life, you know that death comes for us all. It came for me, it came for them, and it will surely come for you. There is no point in trying to figure these things out, you just strap on your armour and do your job.

Garth knows all that of course.

I know father, but the sheer chance that I would live through all this.

I don't know what to tell you son. Maybe it was Gond. I do know that for whatever reason you were saved, it will be world changing. I was always proud of you Garth, and I am sorry that I never expressed that to you.

Garth starts to reply to his father when the scene starts to get misty again and he is suddenly back on his hippogriff in the clouds. He is not sure if it was a dream, a vision, or a message from beyond...but he feels better none the less.

Ruby peeled off from the group, looking for Garth who seemingly vanished from the air. Suddenly she spots him once again, not entirely sure what transpired. This fixation is what led to her being unaware her saddle was slipping sideways until she suddenly finds herself yanked to the side, and she's left hanging onto the saddle by her hand, as it's currently rotated about 90 degrees clockwise from it's normal position. "Catch me!" She shouts to her hippogriff, releasing her grip and free falling.

The hippogriff catches on and alters it's course to position just below Ruby as the two fall. Ruby quickly pulls out her staff and uses it to knock the saddle back to it's original position, rather difficult considering she has to work against the wind, but it gets done. Next she pushes herself down, colliding with the saddle. Safely back on the two ascend back to the group, and just far back enough to notice the harpies who are about to ambush everyone...

save for later incase something happens., dont judge me

Hasan hears a twinge of what sounds like music coming near the foggy area Garth exited from. Seeing Ruby now right herself on the mount Hasan tightens his grip onto his own for the fear of falling. At the howling speed of the hippogriff maneuvers though the air like a fish in water.

As quickly as they came the seemed to disappear just as quickly. Garth hearing the soft lulls and sweet tones seem to not notice the threat he was in until it was to late. Three of the Harpies quickly latch on to him pulling him from his mount and off into the sky.

Hasan can hear Ruby start to say something as he too notices the threat they are now in. Tightening his grip and pulling the reins he breaks out of the flying formation to try and stave off the possible attack.

Suddenly Hasan hears a struggle and more wings flapping then in flock he's currently with. He peers over his shoulder to see a blanket of winged persons, Some playing harmonious instruments others wielding unusual weapons. Bones? He thinks, No, perhaps just some odd clubs. He draws his crossbow and does his best to aim. Firing into the flock of Harpies does little to disperse them. He cannot get the grasp of air combat having to hold on and attack. His speed of firing seems to be significantly slower then normal.If only I weren't in the air.
Closing the gap between his traveling companions and the threat Hasan continues to unleash round after round. Few to hit only to enrage the incoming Harpies. They now are becoming more aggressive, the music seems to stop as they increase in the speed of their advancement. The singing continues to surround the flock from the background.

Hasan determined to show Hehsh and Ruby that he can be relied upon during his previous missions and letdowns he charges by the incoming hostile. Now giving more care to speed over accuracy as he begins to rain down crossbow bolts at a speed unknown before. Many find their mark as only a couple of their flock fall from the sky. Realize this may be more then a one man job. Hasan clasps back the reins of the hippogriff and race back to gain reinforcements.

"Help!" he cries out as he approaches the group. "It seems we may be under attack."
He looks about. "Wheres Garth? The group looks about to see that his hippogriff flies void of its jockey. "The must have gotten Garth?! Quickly!"

With the other in tow, they start to swoop into the flock raining magic bolts and normal bolts alike. The flock of harpies begin to thin enough to see a glint of something being carried in the middle. "There! In the middle. That must be his armor!" Hasan shouts back to Ruby and Mavis. "We'll keep them distracted while you go get him."
Hasan slows his barrage of bolts only enough to speak.
"Focus our attacks" Hasan calls out to Hehsh. "Maybe we can drive them off if we start to whittle their numbers?"

As Hehsh and Hasan begin to focus fire swooping down on the flock. Ruby and Mavis take the opening slaming their hippogriffs into the two that had Garth. Releasing their grip Garth begins to fall Ruby calls out that "they have a problem". What now?! It was simple get Garth.. Hasan thinks, then is quickly remedied as he sees the glint of armor quickly descend into the area below. "Hehsh hold them off!" Hasan says a small prayer as he clasps the reins and dives after Garth. Garth begins to yell as he comes to his sense as the singing now begins to diminish.

Hasan clumsily maneuvering the mount to grab Garth. Hasan fumbles loosing his grip too almost dismounting himself. Grabbing hold of Garth Hasan quickly pulls him to seat as they come back up.

"Its Working!" Hehsh shouts as he continues his barrage of magic. The Harpies seem to be doing swapping places as the magic continues until a command is given near a shrieking tone. They begin to retreat with such haste.

"I suggest we land so we can remount proper like." Hasan suggests.

~fin~

The party continues on. After a fair distance they notice a flock of birds in the distance. Normaly this would be nothing worth noting, accept something on the wind smells off to Hehsh. Like lightning mixed cinnamon. He convinces the party to detour and investigate.

It turns out to be a murder of crows, cawing above a caravan that seems to be in bad shape, although there is no apparent cause for their distress. Carts have come free of their donkey's, barrels of goods have tumbled free, and it seems like every spare length of rope has turned into a tangle. Accidents and mishaps plague the caravan, and everytime something goes wrong there is always a dust devil.

The party lands and tries to help but it is more of the same. Hehsh is confused. This all seems familiar some how. When a dust devil blinds him in a spray of oddly colored dust that will not rub out, he begins to understand. He's seen this before.

The crows pester him, so he uses magic to create mirror images of himself to confuse them. When he sees ropes spring up by themselves as if they were serpents, he wrangles them with mage hand. When five dust devils turn into a single massive gale, Hehsh matches it with the fury of a lightning bolt, sent to the heavens.

"Come now. I know you are here. There is no need to trouble these people any more." Hehsh calls out. Out of nowhere, a small boy appears. Pale white skin and platinum hair that shoots up into an unatural spike. An air genasi and a sorcerer to boot. One who Hehsh understand is just beginning to understand his powers but not the consequences.

"Caught me did you?" says the genasi. "I like your tricks. No harm meant. I was just bored and though I would have some harmless fun."

"If fun is what you want, I know some pixies who love your sort of fun. They are in the next valley over."

"Pixies you say? Well there is a group that knows how to appreciate a good prank!" With that he spins away into the wind. Hopefully, the pixies will teach the boy something about consequences.

Deep dwarves have a profound respect for law and rules. A world where life depends that every prop undergoes thorough inspection, and every tool is authorised for suitability, cultivates a strict adherence to regulations. Deep dwarves are surrounded by law in the same way that fish are surrounded by water - if it's absent then life is brief.

Mavis cautiously pulls on the reins bringing the hippogriff to a hovering halt, noting the elven officers approach.
Wood-elven officers are considered unique amongst the watches, as they eschew swords and crossbows, armed with nothing more than silly hats and wooden sticks. This leads many races to believe that wood-elven officers are less violent than other officers. This is wrong. Lacking permission to use swords, they've elevated chucking-suspects-down-the-stairs and slamming-heads-into-cell-doors into a martial art.

Ruby is approached by Constable Tranquillity;
Hehsh by Constable Serenity;
Garth by Constable Placidity;
and Hassan by Sergeant Responsibility.
Mavis is assigned Constable Brutality.

Oh great, thinks Constable Brutality seeing the dwarf, a bloody schist-kicker.

Brutality had recently been told to attend a course on non-elven race relations. He'd begged off on the grounds that all his relations were wood elves.

Placing her hands upwards in her lap, Mavis politely waits for the officer to come alongside.

'ow do. Is owt up officer? Summat amiss? Ruby asks innocently.

Fazed by Mavis's thick accent, Constable Brutality tries the watch officer's universal language...
DO - YOU - SPEAK - COMMON?
... he shouts slowly.

EEEE - THAT - WERE - COMMON - THA' - CLOTH-EARED - HA'P'ORTH. Ruby shouts slowly back.

The constable's hand reaches for his truncheon.
What did that racist little rock goblin say about my ears?!

Constable Brutality knows, and uses, a thesaurus of racial terms of abuse. If anyone complains, he moans that people today are too quick to take offence. But if anyone should suggest that wood elves might be less perfect, he's been known to become the snowiest of snowflakes. Perhaps he complains that people are too quick to take offence, because it leaves less for him.

The anger paralysing Constable Brutality is interrupted by Sargent Responsibility, bringing her eagle alongside.

Is there a problem Constable?

Got a villain Ma'am. errr.... Brutality thinks fast ....drunk in charge of a mount, Ma'am

Evidence? The sergeant's eyebrow arch. Her eyebrow was very good at arching. Constable Brutality gave it lots of practice.

He's a rock muncher Ma'am Clearly satisfied with that this is now a closed case.

If you mean she's a member of the dwarven community, then that's not actually a crime Constable.

If you say so Ma'am replies Brutality doubtfully.
Constable Brutality has always assumed that "short sentence" meant a mandatory punishment for being less that 5'2".

The seargeant turns to Mavis
Hey hup lass. Where are thar going, and has thar been boozing my old matie? Gor blimey. - torturing the dwarven dialect to the point where even Dick Van Dyke's cockney would have begged for mercy.

Nay, lass. Lookin' to get to Mourning t'n. Weirdly, Mavis is less offended by Brutality's overt racism than being patronised in a mangled version of her own dialect, but co-operates nonetheless.

Very well. Don't let us delay you further. Don't forget your seat-belt. The sergeant nods Mavis towards her party hovering ahead.

Seat-belt?
Mavis looks around to discover extra straps on her harness.
Seat-belt! So that's why nobody else had to cling to their hippogriff's mane for dear life.

Mavis fastens herself to the saddle, nods politely to the officers and continues to meet her friends.

Sargent Responsibility takes out her notebook.

Constable - I'm recommending that you attend a course on dwarven awareness.

Yes Ma'am. Thank you Ma'am says Brutality brightly
Dwarven awareness will come in useful ma'am. Sometimes it's difficult to spot the little buggers.

The exciting and entirely confusing flight to Mourning Town comes to a close later in the day when your hungry and tired hippogriffs beeline without direction for a particular inn. Alighting in the rear yard, they snap and caw at a stable hand, who with practiced familiarity dodges their playful anger, helps you from your saddles. "Welcome to The Aerie," he says loud enough to be heard, dodging a clawed kick from Hasan’s hippogriff. "Two gold each, and we’ll take care of both you and these beauties. Got baths, a seafood roast that’s almost ready to be served, and enough mead to swim in. Go on in, I’ll unsaddle these and get them fed and brushed."

The stable hand shoos you inside, brooking no questions and offering no further information. You grab your gear tied to the saddles and enter the inn. The décor reminds you of open skies, with light walls shaded by lighter spots that are like clouds. The walls lighten around a roaring hearth with flames bright enough to make a fair impression of the sun. A number of games are being played, all involving clay figures on a circular board. A roar goes up as one man twirls his moustache and tips over his last piece, a dragon painted silver.

A plump woman waves you over to an empty table that she grabs some mugs from and begins attacking with a rag. "Over here, come on, welcome, welcome."

Mavis totters over, twisting and stretching her back as she walks; her legs leaden and back stiff after the long flight.

She smiles warmly at the plump lady.
'ow do? I hear that tha' has baths. Hot baths are they? It were ever so parky on flight here. Has tha' rooms for t' five of us?

She turns to her Hassan.
Hot bath t' take chill off, followed by fish supper. Put feet up and grab bite afore we go exploring proper like. What's tha' think Hassan?

"Well lets eat and get clean yes. Perhaps a nice rest in a proper bed before exploring I think. He replies as he begins to yawn.

After years in the military, Garth knows enough to take a beer and a good meal whenever they are offered.

As tempting as a hot bath sounds, I think I will take care of the inside before the outside. I will take a mead please and some of that roast the stable hand mentioned, please.

Garth looks around.

This is a beautiful place, and well kept.

Garth recognizes the game, a favourite with sailors and soldiers alike. The rules are simply, more like checkers than chess, but there is a strong wagering element that often results in the game devolving into a drinking contest and inevitable singing. The goal in the game is to move a game piece into a space occupied by one of the other players pieces, with the contest resolved entirely by opposed six-sided dice rolls - these dice rolls are where the gambling occur, with bets on win, lose, or tie.

Ruby is glad to be off of her mount, all that flying has her feeling rather stiff. After a bit of stretching she feels well enough to move, but can't stifle a yawn first. The prospect of food and drink is enticing enough to keep her from resting, this whole diplomat job has some benefits.

Once inside Ruby smells the air and observes what everyone is enjoying, taking mental stock of what's on the menu. "Why hello. I will take...one of each please."

Ruby listens for anyone (or even a bard) discussing tales of a certain powerful halfling who courageously fought against a horde of hobgoblins, growing stronger with every foe they felled.

After he eats, Garth will see if there is an open seat at a game, preferably with soldiers. He is not too concerned with the winning and losing, he wants to pick up info on what they might face on the next leg of their journey.

Mavis is lead into the upstairs where a bath is brought to temperature with hot rocks. A small tray of fragrant soaps and oils is placed beside, along with a stack of thick towels.

As Mavis heads off for a bath, you're brought a platter of fish for the table, mostly roasted with some sauces to accompany. She also leaves you a pitcher of mead and a bowl of grainy, nutty buns and another bowl of mixed roasted vegetables.

Garth finds a table between gsmes and is immediately welcomed in and handed a box of figures to arrange. He finds the conversation easy, starting with the usual last campaign question. Of course, no one asks which side you fought on, to avoid fights.

Sides only matter to the generals, am I right?

As the chamberperson leaves, Mavis nods towards the soap, oils and towels.
Am I allowed to use those? She asks nervously
After giving a confused nod, the chamberperson leaves.

Mavis stands back to consider the bath.
Last year her Sandra had suggested that they go 'up top' to visit a spa. There was the inevitable spa/spar homophonic confusion that was bound to happen when the skywalkers name something after crystalline rocks. After that was resolved, Mavis had ruled that spas sounded like something for humans and elves, and (to Sandra's disappointment) the matter was closed. Fancy baths aren't for dwarves - Mavis had home-rank, and Mavis had ruled it.

Mavis steps forward and sniffs the soap. It smells like sweet flowers and fruits, not ash and fat. Curious, Mavis runs her finger over the soap. Soft, like talc-schist, not gritty, no granite dust.

Is this the adventuring life?
Taking advantage of such luxury feels like betraying Sandra. Chewing her bottom lip in inner turmoil, but shucking her clothes anyway, Mavis resolves to take Sandra to a spa if she gets back alive.

Settling into the hot bath, Mavis adds small amounts of each of the oils. Sniffing the soaps in turn, she picks one. If Mavis had more experience of the skyworld she'd have recognised the smell of bergamot, but to Mavis it just smells like how she imagines elven nobles would smell.
Mavis slides down, guiltily, to spend an hour in the hot bath.Towelling herself off Mavis feels cleaner than she's ever felt before, but the nagging sense of betrayal leaves her conscience feeling a little dirty too.

Dressed, leaving the warhammer and backpack in the room, Mavis descends the stairs to meet the party, try the seafood and talk to the locals.

You all enjoy your meals, prepared simply but the freshness of the catch is startling, and seasoned just right to bring out the natural flavour.

Garth settles into the game and quickly is laughing with the soldiers as stories are told, usually of dalliances while on furlough, and a fondness for jokes about clever people being humiliated.

Mavis finds out that the town is indeed a homophone of Morning and Mourning, and means both to them. The great fireplace diorama in the inn is a testament to the sadness of the dawn, but more so of a legend. It seems that long ago, all of the children went missing and were never found alive. Their bodies were found high in a hill, apparently having committed suicide by drinking sleeping draughts to excess, for abuses at the hands of one of the town elders. The elder was tried and executed for his crimes, but even though all those involved are long dead, the town has never recovered from the sense of loss and their own blindness to what had been occurring. The anniversary of that grim discovery is celebrated as a time of quiet reflection.

As to Great Delta, this is a small city that squats on an old dried up river delta. While no river flows, save for flash floods, the delta proper is wide and the city squats on former islands. The bridges have gone to neglect as people can almost always just walk on the dry river bottom year round.

Hehsh is shocked by the disturbing tale. Who would have thought that these villages knew such troubles. He remembers the druids who raised him and always thought it strange that they lived apart from their kin. Perhaps there was wisdom in that decision. He thinks of it no more past sleep. Nothing puts Hehsh's mind at ease like a good meal and a warm bed.

After gambling for a while, Garth will buy a round for the soldiers and head to bed fairly early. Best to have a clear head when going in to the unknown.

When Mavis had arrived here her every instinct had shouted "Let's get ready to grumble!". After all, it was every dwarf's natural right, nay duty!, to complain that the beer was too weak, the food was too fancy, and the skysiders were 'nowt but soft topside nancies' - but the scented bath and the town's dark tale had rather taken the fire from her forge.

She quietly and slowly drinks at a table, bidding a good night to the retiring Garth and Hehsh. She considers the town - rich in luxurious baths and fine food, but with such tragedy at its core. It testified that these stoic humans had a natural nobility she hadn't imagined.

Contemplation over, finishing her drink, her prejudices somewhat chastened, Mavis bids good night to the barkeep and patrons. She too heads to bed.

Hasan enjoys his meal. Feasting mostly on the breads while picking at the fish. "Such delicious food, I thank you for the meal." Hasan mentions to the barmaiden.

Hasan takes his leave to get some rest for the night attempting to recover from his riding escapades.

Ruby quite enjoys what the evening brings her. She eats, drinks, and relaxes as the lovely atmosphere overtakes her. She is a bit disappointed tales of their heroics aren't being spread far and wide, but she decides it isn't actually all that important. After all she still gets to enjoy herself without feeling like some celebrity.

Ruby doesn't hear anything about individual halflings per se, but she does hear a few old fogies talking about some sort of desert skirmish. Apparently an army of ogres and giant kin were driven off by a warband of pixies (and a few minor assistants, baggage carriers, really). Detsils are sparse at the moment, and they're questioning what mad folk would even try and pass off such stories as news.

Before going to bed, Hehsh hears Ruby asking about rumors of halflings. He chuckles at the baggage carriers comment, and then uses minor illusion to make them think there drinks are empty, hopefully leading to them getting cut off by a waitress who does not want to over serve. "Don't worry "Eater of Souls." I'm sure your legend will grow in time."

"I was thinking of contributing to their stories myself. Ogre's are comparable to hobgoblin's right?" Already Ruby is imagining the battle where she jumped off of pixies and fell from 100 feet high to deliver a crushing blow to an ogre's eye, slaying it in one hit.

"Sure. They're basically cousins. Fully interchangeable from a narrative perspective."

"Perfect." With confidence in every step Ruby makes her way to these fine gentlemen, regaling them with tales of the battle she (yes she!) was part of. Of the enormous army she and her companions had to face down, the devastating blow after blow of pernicious power inflicted unto them, and their sure defeat. Just as they were on the brink of destruction, they had gained "the dragon's blessing" smiting their foes with overwhelming force while their fallen troops had risen up to join the fray once more, it was truly a glorious day.

The fogies enjoy Ruby's storytelling, thoroughly engaging in her presentation of the events. She gets that they enjoy the craft of storytelling more than the newsy bits, but they will pass it on faithfully, at least as best as they recall.

When the talking is well and done Ruby decides to retire for the night, another busy day tomorrow and all that.

After meals and baths and games, or baths and meals and games, or games and meals and baths, or however you arrange it, you each retire for the night.

That night, dreams come. You don't remember them, only that you awake, freezing. Your rooms are ice cold, despite the coals glowing in the fireplaces. Your breath fogs and you feel it, a dark presence, there behind you! No. Outside? You look, your eyes drawn to the east.

Somewhere a woman screams, heartbreaking sorrow. And the echo of laughter in the night sky. A flicker of light on some hillside. Impossibly far away, it is just a tiny blur, but you know. How could you not? Albionii, the unicorn. It beckons.

Do you refuse?

You wake. This time for real, you hope. But damn, it is cold in your room.

When the group is gathered for breakfast, Garth notices that he is not the only one who looks a little troubled.

Did any of you dream about the unicorn?

"i don't know about any unicorn, but something gives me an eerie feeling. It's probably best we hurry out of this area."

Mavis is mildly surprised by Garth’s question, but not shocked.

Aye, I did. It’s sign, and no mistake.

She then turns sternly to Hassan.

’as thee gone soft in head Hassan? The gods send sign like that, and we do nowt ‘bout it? Eee lad, I know there’s rush on, but I’d never look ferther in face agin if ‘e ‘eard I knew bairns needed us an’ I walked on.

Mavis doesn’t want to offend Hassan, so she takes a deep breath, softens her tone and considers her next words carefully.

I know we ‘ave solemn quest an’ no time for faffin’, it does thee proud that y’ ‘ave tha’ focus on it. But I don’t see ‘ow we can walk on by.

She sits back with her arms folded across her chest. Mavis has said her piece, and now awaits its judgement.

Any ‘ow. That’s me two common’s worth. If there’s vote then I vote we ‘elp, but let’s wait for Ruby an’ Hehsh. If yous think different to us then I’ll bow to rank.

Ruby is at a loss for maybe half of Mavis's little speech. Still, she can improvise. "That was the first time I've ever dreamed of a unicorn, I doubt it was a coincidence, especially since we apparently all experienced it simultaneously. And I- Wait, you think the town is...SpoOoOkY?" Ruby flutters her fingers in front of her face, talking in a manner she thinks a scary ghost would.

"It was Albionii. The unicorn who aided us in the battle and the patron of the circle of druids who raised me. If she is asking for aid, we should help. In my dream, the call for help came from the east."

I agree. Hopefully it will be a short detour.

Mavis looks at Hassan expectantly.
She’s decided that he’s their leader and she must follow his decision - but surely a good leader listens to the opinions of the party.

Seeing Ruby’s confusion, Mavis tries again.
It were a sign from gods. I say we act, and there’s no...
what was the skywalker word for faffing?
pro-crast-in-ating and de-bate-ing.
Gods! Even their words for faffing were a faff.
We do what our ferthers’ would ‘spect on us. But I’ll follow group decision with no mitherin’ errr... grumblin’

Mavis smiles at Ruby apologetically. She knows her grasp of the nobles’ common is a little dodgy, but she’s not sure which of her words are dialect.

Hehsh bursts out laughing and he doesn't know why

"Ok, If that gets us out of this eerie place lets hop to it then."

Hasan shows a small visible shutter as a cold chill pierces his body.

Mavis nodded to Hassan when she heard his decision. Their leader had reached the correct decision. Everything was as it should be.

I’ll just get us things. She headed off up to her room.

In the room Mavis mentally prepared for her first real day of adventuring in the skylands by following her personal pre-hunting rituals.
After donning and tightening her leathers, Mavis pulled the slip-tied leather cords holding the daggers on her right forearm and at the small of her back. There was the soft sound of steel drawn from leather as the daggers were removed, inspected, then re-sheathed. As Mavis re-tied the dagger’s slip knot on her back she considered the warhammer on the floor.

She’d found it in her pack shortly after leaving the Cloudsea. It was a gift from Sandra who always told her that she should have a more dwarven weapon.
Mavis had a great deal of respect for dwarven fighters. They stood firm, rooted to the earth, clutching the hammers and picks of their mining heritage, stubbornly defying anyone to try and move them - as if their lives were precious gold in a tight seam. You want them? We’ll make you work for them.

But that wasn’t Mavis’s way. She was as subtle and insidious as poisonous afterdamp. Silent, creeping, unexpected death in the dark.

Ritual completed Mavis shouldered her pack, but carried the warhammer. She headed downstairs to meet the party. She handed the hammer to Hassan.
Ye were lookin’ to trade weapons for gold here? Add this to collection. Dwarf made, should fetch reet good price.

Did you want to try and sell your weapons before going off in search of mystery?

Mavis scans the faces of the party. She’s hoping that they act decisively, heroically - perhaps ask the inn to store their booty until they return.
She’d speak but she’s become quite self-conscious of her accent.
Hehsh burst out laughing for no reason after she last spoke, and the embarrassment is still a little raw in Mavis’s memory.

Hasan takes the item "Uhh... ok?"

"Perhaps we'll hit the market on the way out and off load some of the equipment." he says as he holds the item as if startled by the realization there was more to do.

yes, since are here, we may as well take a couple of minutes to sell the surplus weapons, and change the funky gold coins into coins of the realm.

We will probably make up the time flying faster without the extra weight.

"Wait, you guys have stuff to sell? Lemme check." Ruby starts digging through her pack, pulling out (and placing back in): rope, a torch, several smooth rocks she discreetly places on the table, darts which she spins in her hand for fun, and a fairly nice looking bangle. "I guess there is...this?"

It would be fairly obvious that someone is carrying around the big bag of armor and weapons mostly taken from hobgoblin patrols. See the Party Loot thread for an inventory.

I'll put up a price list, possibly influenced by a Diplomacy or Persuasion check.

Sounds fair.

"Right, Lets find a market for this."

Hehsh huddles with his compatriots before vender, getting the basics of haggling down. He's not sure he gets the finer points down, but he understands the basic idea. Make them take less of your money, while you get more of their money. It was a simple enough concept. Hehsh presented the parties spoils and the merchant named his price. "More," said Hehsh simply. His arms are crossed and he looks down on the man and growls idly. He repeats the process until a satisfactory price is reached.

The negotiators are able to talk the Smith's into 2/3s of regular (PHB) prices.

Selling most of the previous group loot only, 2 breastplates, 8 hand axes, 4 shields, 5 longswords, 2 longbows, 2 chainmails, and the lamellar armor, you net 1140 x 2/3 = 760 gp. Split 4 ways thats 190gp each.

Ruby's eyes bulge at the absolute pile of gold they now have. "That's a lot of money. I don't think I've ever seen so much in one place."

"Such a generous amount. Lets try to spend it wisely and not on frivolous trinkets." Hasan says as he stows the pouch in his pack in the attempts to forget it is there. "Are there any more stops we need to make before we head out west?"

Looking at the pile, Hehsh hesitiantly hands over the parties share. Like Ruby, he has never seen that much gold before and he is feeling the very draconic feeling of greed. When Hasan speaks up, he snaps out of it. "I would like to purchase some health potions. Just to be safe."

I think we should check the place in our dream as soon as we finish shopping.

"Agreed"

After spending a few hours haggling with merchants, unloading your war loot and buying supplies, you head into the hills. Your footsteps have the path illuminated too you in a dream, and without any real awareness of the passage of time, you ascend inland from the seaside town.

As the heat of the day's sun peaks, clouds roll in and a thick rain begins. Your footing becomes treacherous, and even the lightest on their feet spend time slipping and crawling on their hands and knees. At the top of the fateful hill, the site of an atrocity you somehow witnessed, you also reach the eye of the storm. Cold, wet, and filled with an unspoken despondency, you find a small altar.

You see the altar, and despite your early day ambition, you hesitate to approach.

What do you do?

Garth says a prayer to Gond, asking for his blessing in this endeavor, since it appears to fall under the influence of the Gods.

Then he thinks back on his history to try and recall what happened here.

Albionii. You summoned us, and we are here. What do you want of us?

Hehsh sniffs the air and begins to search the area.

Ruby awaits an answer, wiping some grime off of her sleeve. "I hope we aren't early. Or late."

Standing behind and to the right of Ruby, Mavis scans the scene.
Her relaxed fingers gently caress the enchanted dagger strapped to her forearm.

Her gaze briefly rests on Garth.
Let's see what the priest makes of this cursed place.

She starts to pad sideways to her right, watching the altar as she moves. As she steps her right foot sweeps the damp, loamy ground - glancing down occasionally - looking for the bones of the town's lost children.

Hasan fumbles to get his weapon out of its holster getting ready for any potential aggression.

Mavis indeed spots the bones peaking in the ground, more than she would have though possible. Garth's question goes unanswered, and you all feel that the words he has spoken have insulted the evil spirit of the place. The oppressive aura grows, pressing you closer to the altar. You feel small, unworthy, and worst of all, doomed to failure. It would be better if all of you simply...

Wisdom saves please.

Ruby does not like this feeling one bit, pulling out her staff and assumes a defensive stance. "I really hope we didn't offend something."

Gond keep me safe from the evil of this location.

Hehsh hangs his head.

The powerful magic of the area seeps within you all, a profound despair that there is no hope, and further, no sin beyond your capacity for failure. Something tugs at your mind, giving you pause to shrug it off...

... except for Hehsh. Deep down, his own lost lineage, a mystery he had been bound to uncover, is revealed to his soul to be useless, futile. People are left behind for one reason alone, he realizes, tears creeping from reptilian eyes: they are found unworthy. He crumples to his knees, as waves of despair continue to afflict him, rendering him powerless. For this is where lost children come for release.

What do you do?

Hehsh should make another Wisdom save, with Disadvantage.

Shame, sadness, self-hatred.

As Hehsh curls upon himself lost to despair, a figure emerges from the mist, stalkling up towards him, cruel clawlike fingers reaching for his unaware form. It pays the rest of you no mind, save for hateful glances.

Initiative please. If you beat the foe, you may act.

Garth feels a hatred for this abomination.

"Hey, leave him alone!" Ruby rushes to meet this foe head-on, leaping in the air to slam her staff down on their head as she falls, followed up by hopping to the side and performing a spinning roundhouse kick while also using the momentum to deliver a second staff attack against their back.

Mavis caught a sob, inhaled, feelings of hopelessness overwhelmed her. Without exhaling, she inhaled again surveying the scene.
Dirty yellow bones in dark soil. The mineral wealth of this hill as haphazardly scattered calcium - a vein of despair.

Tears pooled in her eyelids, sheening her vision, Mavis lifted her head to see the figure advancing. The crushing despair shifted her soul...
...but the configuration it had found was stable - and hard.
She dipped and shook her head, the tears flicked from her eyes to reveal a calculating look of hatred of her own.
Mavis reached for the enchanted dagger at her forearm and waited for turn 9 in the initiative order.

Ruby's fury catches the creature flat footed, so to speak. She lays about with her weapons, and lands a number of blows. She notes that her kick does less than expected damage.

Ki save DC = 8 + your proficiency bonus + your Wisdom modifier

Damage done: 31, not stunned

Hasan will rush to Heseh and attempt to grab him and move him out of the way.

The creature recoils at Ruby's attack and lands out with magic, before stepping 5' closer to Hehsh.

Everyone make a DC 14 Willpower save versus Sleep.

If you make your save, each of you can act in any order. Hehsh can act only if his funk is busted (at which point he can act immediately).

No one is affected by the spell, you can forego further Wisdom saves and act normally, except for the prior note about Hehsh.

I am not sleepy.

Adder strike!

At the shouted command the adder bracers changes into a golden quarter staff which Garth swings two handed at this foul being.

Taking a few steps towards the creature, her dagger in her sinister hand, Mavis slips past. She strolls as if this were a social occasion in the dwarven halls. As she passes, she slips the dagger into the creature, before strolling on (bonus action disengage & using any remaining movement - if any).

Hasan will continue on his potential rescue mission pulling Hehsh to safty.

Garth and Mavis both misses with their attacks, although Mavis comes close. Hehsh is startled (entirely) from his maudlin reverie by Hasan, who drags him five feet further from the creature.

Hehsh strikes the creature with his magical attack, dealing electricity damage.

Ruby is up, then the Eater of Innocence.

Total damage done: 42

Since this monster has continued without pause, so to shall Ruby. She jumps over the strange being, performing a helm-splitter with a flip. Once she lands back to the monster Ruby thrusts her staff behind her, and turns to deliver a straight punch against it's...body. "Ow..." She mutters.

Ruby is kicking this things butt. Both staff attacks land, but she misses with the kick.

Total damage done: 63

Casting caution aside, Mavis’s right hand removes the second dagger from behind her back.
She plunges the two daggers into the Eater of Innocence, just where she guesses the kidneys would be.Unlike her last hit and run, Mavis doesn’t disengage, she tucks the daggers against her forearms - her face showing stony resolve.
This bastard is going down.

The creature slashes at Ruby with its clawlike hands, tearing deep into her skin.

Mavis slides past, attacking with her daggers. Both strike, but her offhand does only partial damage.

Total damage done: 84

Hehsh, Garth, Hasan, and Ruby are up, in no particular order.

Seeing her daggers strike home, Mavis snarls
Ent so easy as fightin’ bairns, is it? Tha’s nowt but a snivellin’ nonce.

Garth spins the magic staff, he has never held a weapon so grand. He waits for his opening and swings with both hands.

Garth's serpentine staff strikes solidly, satisfyingly smacking the sinister and insidious spectre.

Total damage done: 91

The Eater of Innocence is adept at the ways of avoiding spells, but even though it mostly gets out of the way of the twinned lightning bolts, it still takes horrific damage.

It falls to the ground, twitching then going still.

Combat is over.

You feel the oppressive mood of the area immediately lighten. The storm around you begins to break up.

Mavis spits on the burnt corpse, but the sour taste of what she's witnessed here remains in her mouth.
She looks at the others in turn, nodding to each in appreciation of the good work that's been done here.
Garth, is there owt tha' god can do to consecrate ground?

When she gets close enough to spot on the corpse, Mavis notices a leather back tied around it's neck. Something about the bag catches her eye. Is that light trying to shine through?

GARTH! HEHSH! THA'S NEED TO TEK A GANDER AT THIS! SHARPISH LADS!
Mavis alarmedly shouts for the Cleric and the Sorcerer. She drops into a defensive stance, readying an attack should anything bad emerge from the bag.

She murmers a low growl at the bag
C'mon out nonce, and I'll gi' tha' such a brayin'

Garth walks over to the corpse and reaches for the bag.

Everyone be ready, just in case.

He opens the bag.

Mavis opens her mouth to raise objections, No detect good and evil? No augury? No speak with dead?
but there’s no time. She closes her mouth. Besides, the cleric seems confident - let’s see what happens.

She relaxes her stance and leans forward. Garth’s optimism is contagious.

Garth finds a number of gems, one large and black, and a score that are small and luminescent. The smaller ones glow with a pulse like heartbeats, and pulse brighter when Garth looks in.

I am going to see if I can identify these smaller gems.

Garth grabs one of the smaller gems and with a prayer to Gond for wisdom, he casts identify

Ruby eyes up the gem in Garth's hand. "Is it...symbolic? Or do you think that thing also liked hoarding money?"

"Thats not normal. We should be careful. I've never seen any gem glow like that." Hasan says rolling over to get up after Hehsh's attack. "What do you think we should do with that?"

Mavis stands on tiptoe to see what everybody is looking at. Her big, brown eyes widen in amazement. She turns her eyes up to look at Garth.
Surely the wise holy man will know what to do.
She looks back at the glowing gems, resisting the temptation to reach out and touch them.

Wanting to give Garth some space, Mavis steps away and begins walking to the altar. She takes care not to tread on, or disturb, the bones emerging from the ground.

She has no words, nor can she properly order her thoughts to encompass the tragedy that unfolded here.
Poor bairns is the best her mind can offer. She knows it's trite and inadequate, but to try for better would be to invite a sympathy that she can ill-afford until the time for flinty hardness has passed.

Reaching the altar, Mavis starts to investigate.

Garth's mind reels with revulsion. His soul actually feels dirty just for holding this...thing.

These gems. These poor souls.

Tears start to flow, both from sorrow and anger. He coughs and tries again.

Each of these gems is a soul that this monster stole. They are trapped for eternity in these prisons. We have to smash them and give them their release.

He takes a second to kick the dead innocence eater.

Everyone pray to whoever you believe in, to show these souls to their proper rest.

Garth prays to Gond, protect these souls on their journey.

He grabs a rock or a hammer if someone has one, and smashes the first of the gems.

Solemnly Mavis returns from the Altar to Garth. She removes her pack, loosens the leather cords sealing it and removes her hammer. As she takes her portion of the gems from Garth, she reaches high to place a sympathetic hand on his back.
Gorm Fire-Eyes, will lead souls of lost bairns t' rest.
Mavis wants to ask about the black stone, but understands that now is the time to follow Garth's lead.

She takes the gems to the altar. It seems fitting that the site of imprisonment should also be the anvil of release.
It's been a while since Mavis had used her traditional dwarven skills, but the meditation of arranging the gems for destruction brings the knowledge of her youth back.
Holding Gorm Gulthyn's prayer of protection in her mind she strikes the gems, entreating her god to protect these innocents on the path to their afterlife.

Ruby doesn't say anything, simply staring at Garth with concern on her face. Maybe she doesn't want the responsibility, or maybe she thinks it's best Garth handle the matter. Regardless of her reasoning she watches from a few feet back, ready to comfort him if he starts breaking down.

What an awful burden to be thrust upon someone so suddenly. And here I thought today was going to be a nice day.

Garth smashes the gemstone with a rock. The ground begins to shake, and light pours forth, shining upwards. The bones in one area gather and knit together, and there is a blinding flash. A small girl in torn clothing appears, staring at her hands, shaking with confusion. The gem in his hand has vanished.

Mavis takes a gemstone to the altar and raises her hammer. She is about to smash it when she notices shattered glass on the altar to an unknown god. Recognizing the shards as the same as the gems in the bag, she hesitates, knowing with certainty this is exactly what the Eater of Innocence had done.

Hasan would take this time to check Hehsh. "Whats going on? Are you ok?"

With her hammer raised, Mavis notices the fragments.
Gems, shattered fragments, gems, hammer, shattered fragments, hammer, gems, altar, hammer. Dumbfounded, Mavis spends seconds connecting the symbolism.

Carefully, respectfully she scoops up the soul gems and quickly backs away from the altar.

Best do it tha’sen Garth. she gently places the gems back in his strong hands Freein’ on altar seems like it abuts sacrifice
Aye, this is a precarious seam, best left to the cleric

The gems transferred, Mavis offers Garth her hammer and takes a defensive position by the child.

Mavis calls out over her shoulder to the child S’aw’reet pet. Tha’s safe now. Tha’ from mourning t’n?

Hehsh prays to no one. He never learned how to pray and to be frank the whole calling on a higher power for salvation thing always seemed a little far fetched. Sure the gods helped out every now and again, but it seems like the people here on the plane always do the heavy lifting.

But he does have faith. He believes in Garth, and Mavis and Ruby. He even believes in Hasan since there's no water around. (Hehsh will never let Hasan live that down.) Most of all, as each gem is smashed on this altar, Hehsh believes these souls will move onto a better place.

Garth collects all the small gems and one by one he smashes them.
When he is done, he will look around to see if there seem to be any remaining bones. In case one of the gems was dropped.

Each smashed gem resurrects another living child. Ranging in age from four to fourteen, they have no memory of what had happened to them. The oldest tells you they come from a town called Port Dawn.

When the last living gem had been smashed and a child freed, you estimate that the bones of a half dozen others remain.

Under his breath Hehsh asks "How long ago did the stories say this happened? Did we just hand this town a bunch of orphans who will need food and shelter?"

The idea that Mourning Town wouldn't take in these unfortunate children hadn't occurred to Mavis, but Hehsh was right to mention it.
Seemed prosperous town. I reckon Mourning t'n'd welcome bairns - help put their ghosts t'rest too. Nowt to do but find out eh?

Mavis remembers the ominous black gem, wondering if Garth's god can help with that one.
What 'bout black 'un Garth? Mavis indicates the remaining gem Can tha' god help with that an'all?
Mavis has a suspicion that it might be the soul of on the town elders, or perhaps the Eater of Innocence.

Ey Ruby! If that black 'un has soul of evil, how does tha' feel about eatin' it?

Garth believes that Port Dawn once existed in these parts, but the name hasn't been used in more than a century.

The name Port Dawn is an old name. I think it may have been the old name of Morning Town, but that is just a guess. If it was, then these are the souls of the children who gave the town its name. Either way, I feel they will find homes for the children.

Garth looks to the black stone.

Let's see if I can find out anything about this ugly thing.

Once more, Garth mutters in prayer. He is loathe to touch the black gem, but that is the price of magic.

The Heartstone, created with the essence of sacrifices by the Eater of Innocence, can cure any disease by touch. While the origin of the stone is obviously evil, the gem itself does not radiate evil or have any other powers.

Mavis looks to Hassan for leadership.
Back t’ Mourning t’n wi’ nippers then Hassan?

"Yes that sounds like a good idea." Hasan says while inspecting the childrens.

"Are any of you hungry, I've got some rations you can nibble on until we get to town." he asks the children

Hehsh eyeballs the children. Human kids look so funny to him. Then again, humans are pretty ugly to begin with. "Yeah, Eater of Souls. Eat it. I'll give you a dollar.

"I'm not eating a rock. And what's a dollar?" Ruby is starting to get the feeling her teammates aren't taking her new title very seriously.

The children follow you back to town reluctantly. The closer you get, the more anxious they become. While they are grateful, and aware of the passage of time, the uncertainty of their futures weighs heavily.

The town is entirely astonished by their return. Once the situation is explained, each of them is greeted by name by adults and elders. Relatives sweep them up into tear stained embraces, and even a pair of children with no living relatives are likewise immediately offered adoption by multiple families.

As to the five of you, rough hugs tug you in all directions. A thousand questions fly at you, including the fate of the children who did not return, until the town leader, Burgh Nolan, asks for a spokesman to tell the tale.

Who speaks and what do you say?

Mavis looks at Garth, waiting for him to recount the tragic tale.

Garth steps forward.

It might be best of the children aren't here for this.

Once they have been led off Garth continues.

There was a creature living in the woods by an old altar. It was an evil unlike anything I have ever encountered.

It attacked us and it took everything we had to defeat it. The first notice we had was a feeling of overwhelming sorrow mixed with guilt and uselessness.

It was powerful magic, I have no doubt that if we had been a group of scared children, it would have been a grim outcome.

The best I can figure is that it probably snuck into town in the middle of the night and convinced the children that they were unworthy and unloved. Then, it either killed them or they killed themselves.

You may not believe me, but that is not even the most vile part of the story. The souls of these innocent children were captured in gems which the creature carried with it.

Garth looks around and takes a deep breath. This is the hard part.

We smashed the gems and freed the souls, which returned them to life. The reason we could not recover all the children is because the creature...used some of the souls in a ritual to create a magic item.

Their souls are lost. The item created, although by the most heinous of means, is in itself not evil. It is a stone which heals disease.

I leave this decision up to you. If you think it would be too painful a reminder of your loss, we will take the stone with us. Maybe a healing house in the next city would want it.
If you want to have it here to use, so that some small good will come of this, then that is fine as well. Just know that destroying it would not bring them back and would really make it all in vain.

Garth looks at the town leaders.

Know this...those children are not responsible for their death and neither are the people in the town at the time. Only the creature is responsible.

If this town was once called Port Dawn, maybe it should be again. No more mourning.

Gareth’s words stir Mavis’s memories of the events into a stew of emotions.
Sorrow, anger, empathy, melancholia, and dispassionate vengeance all compete within her - until the catharsis of Gareth’s final address.
No more mourning.

They’d changed this small part of the world. They’d done that. Them. Us.

This tiny band stood against the deepest of evils. They put their lives in front of the innocents and snarled defiance at the darkness.

Mavis had experience of death, she’d flitted between the shadows of the near underdark to deal silent death to monsters - and what for? For their hides. For her guild. For profit. She’d come to the surface and her sights had been raised. She’d left the dark, and entered the light.

With this realisation, a new ingredient was added to Mavis’s stew of emotions- purpose.

The story reduces the town folk to fresh tears, but also hope shines from their wet faces. An age old curse had been lifted and you are the undisputed heroes of this tale. Countless invitations to dine with the locals are extended, but the chaos is resolved by the proclamation of a town feast that evening.

The decision of what to do with the black gem is complicated by competing views. The Mourning Stone, as it quickly becomes known, is powerful and in the end the mayor settles it by describing a temple dedicated to the memory of the lost, and shepherded by a charitable priest who will offer its healing power services for free. This seems utterly sensable that even the most jaded are left without further argument.

Your rooms and stabling for your mounts are of course covered for the next day, and for any time you happen to pass through the area.

You are offered clothing and new cloaks, all to be tailored to fit that day, of the finest cut and cloth they have, which isn't terribly opulent being a simple harbour town but will be a step up from whatever you're wearing.

During the festivities Mavis approaches Hehsh.
It’s reet smashin’ do, eh Hehsh?
But we best mek early start on morrow if we’re t’ get thee t’ tha’ ferther. ‘ow’s tha’ feelin’ ‘bout meetin’ ‘im? Nervous?

Garth is appreciative of the food and new clothes. He has a couple of drinks, but saves his over indulgences for the food.

I know I shouldn't eat any more, but years as a soldier has taught me that the next hot meal might not be for a long time.

Ruby makes a note to find Garth during the celebrations, patting him on the back. "That was a real swell speech you gave Garth, you sure know how to inspire people. I hope they can move on." There is a hint of sadness with that last statement, but Ruby doesn't show it on her face.

Thank you Ruby. That means a lot to me.

Garth looks around at the people at the feast. he already sees more people smiling. There is a sense of hope now. There is still some hesitancy, but it will change.

I think they are through the worst of it.

Hasan participates in the festivities when the townies confront him he seems to be up-spirited but while eating and other moments he seems to be lost in either sorrow, thought or something else.
He'll take the offerings wearing them for the time being.

The villagers know how to throw a feast; with excessive amounts of food. A golden bird, roasted to perfection, mashed potatoes, yams slathered in butter and cinnamon, dozens pies, fluffy bread. And whoever thought of shoving nuts, berries and stale bread up the dead birds ass before roasting it was a genius. Hehsh has never been so thankful to finish a quest.
Hehsh puts down the massive bird leg he was devouring. His scaly features look down on Mavis with reptilian impassiveness. "Mavis. I haven't understood a word you've said this entire time."