Adventure 2 - Corruption in the Woods

With the light of the morning sun, the Trade Guild caravan continues on their way to the city of Martan to the East. You however, find your path to the West, guided by the ritual tracking the connection of Creak's amulet. Though the ritual cannot provide an exact distance or coordinates, it does provide a starting point.

The sky remains mostly overcast as you travel, holding the promise of rain and more summer thunderstorms, but remains just the promise for the week you travel along the Darlond Road. As your supplies begin to dwindle, you reach a small town nestled against a thick forest.

Entering the town, the local populous seems wary, as criers call out the latest news and vendors hawk their wares, underscored by the ring of smith hammers on their anvils. A surprising number of the city guard appear to be green dragonborn, though none appear to have the tail that Leha mentioned.

After getting directions from a passing local, you find yourselves entering the best (according to said local) inn the town has to offer: the Sheltered Tree Inn. Even from outside, the source of the name was readily apparent, as the entire building is built around the trunk of a large tree. The light within primarily comes from several softly glowing lights lining the ceiling along the beams and within the few branches on the first floor.

As you approach the barkeep, an orc-blooded man barely five feet tall, he barely gives your group a glance as he mixes a drink for a customer at the bar. He finishes the drink by grabbing the end of an iron bar from a small hearth behind the bar and plunging the red end into the mug, causing the drink within to bubble and hiss as the hot metal warmed up the contents.

Setting the drink in front of the customer, the barkeep turns to your group and asks with a thick, raspy voice like gargled glass, "You lot're an odd bunch. So long as you don't cause trouble you're welcome to a few rooms," he pauses to glare at Ranos, "and yes, itching powder in my trousers counts as trouble. You're lucky it was a year ago or I'd have thrown you out."

Turning his gaze to the group as a whole, he plasters a fake pleasant smile on his face as he asks, "Now then, what can I do for ya?"

Reaching down below the bar, the barkeep pulled up a claw pitcher with softly glowing runes on its surface. Placing two mugs on the bartop, he poured water into them before placing them in front of Wahuhi and Anise and returning the pitcher to its original place. Turning around, he pulled three wooden bowls from a cupboard and walked over to a softly simmering pot. Taking a moment to stir the contents of the pot, he ladled the contents into the bowls before placing them in front of Ranos, Anise, and Faerlin.

The soup served seems to be a mix of leftovers from other meals: bits of several kinds of meat, onions, tubers, and other vegetables that blend together in a hearty, if simple, soup. As he places a pot of ale by the cooking fire, he cracks four eggs into a bowl before whisking in a white herb powder, a small amount of brandy, and nutmeg. Taking the ale away from the cooking fire, he begins pouring the two back and forth between containers until it flows smoothly. Pouring the mixed drink into a tall mug, he finishes it off by plunging a red hot iron rod into the drink and stirring it.

Placing the drink in front of Faerlin, the barkeep says, "Ground floor rooms are five silver daron's a night, chowder's a daron a bowl, water's two copper pence, Flip's five pence. The rooms come with two beds; for you legs, we have occasional fur trappers come through so don't worry about trying to fit into a normal bed. Anything else?"

"I'll have a double order of that soup, with bread and if you have some cheese that would be so great! ... and can I get my waterskin's filled as well? And I'll take a room for myself. Thank you." Placing down eight silver pieces from a coin pouch she kept in her bodice, resting two large leather waterskins down. "And while we're at it... would you happen to have trouble from monsters in this town?"

Glancing over at Wahuhi as he smoothly palmed and pocketed the various coin placed on the bar, the barkeep took a moment to consider his answer, "Isn't anyone selling magical trinkets or doodads in town, but Ma's brother's a wizard o' some kind an' my sister's got that sorcery stuff."

As he turns to Anise, picking up one waterskin to fill it, his answer is stalled by the firbolg priestess spitting out the drink that had the texture of water but the flavor of mud. Moving the mug of water away from Anise, and sticking a finger in to make a taste test, had the barkeep glaring at the suspiciously innocent looking Ranos, "Five minutes. I warn you about causing trouble, and you don't last five. Minutes."

Taking the bowl of soup away from Ranos, the barkeep bellows out something in a guttural language that none of your group recognizes. Almost immediately after, a massive hand picks up Ranos by the back of his shirt and easily lifts him off his chair into the air. The apparent bouncer is either half or full orc, standing nearly seven feet tall, built like a lighthouse, seems to be covered in more scars than unblemished skin, and is missing half his upper lip. Meeting Ranos's gaze with his one good eye, the other a milky white, the bouncer growls out, "No messin' with the food or drink. Got it?"

As the troublemaker is being dealt with, the barkeep mutters a quiet, "Thanks dad," before pouring Anise a fresh mug of water and returning the coin for her food.

"No matter how many times you warn 'em, the furballs keep causin' trouble. Now then, you were asking about monsters. Nothin' like that, not to my knowledge, but be sure to stay indoors after nightfall, there's a killer on the loose."