Chapter 2: The Crucible of Freya

Faionn stays back as the party talks with the priestess, simply introducing herself. She prefers to observe rather than act blindly in an unfamiliar place. She is momentarily alarmed by the ritual, but then put at ease by the priestess's simple explanation: a blessing. Faionn herself was no stranger to the mysteries of the gods.

Seeing that it would be polite, she follows the others' lead and drops a gold piece into the collection box. "Blessed be the land that shapes us," she adds, believing that this should be received with respect—as far as Faionn knew, Freya and Lady Narrah held similar beliefs regarding the natural world.

Ryenne does pass by the shrine to Thyr for a moment, and deposits two silver in the box nearby:

Guide my way, so that the paths of Justice and Injustice may meet once again. The wizard won’t escape when we next meet…

She turns back to the group, with a nod. Ready to depart for the inn.

"Do you think we can rest easy here? The wizard may show his face, but I doubt the guards will allow orcs inside the walls."

Nebbleshuven stands before the shrine of Mitra and drops a gold piece into the box. He thinks about the murdered family they stumbled upon and the loss of Olaf. He hopes that they're all at peace. He then turns and walks towards the tavern.

Monaghan will have left a dried ration in the offering box, seizing on the mention of foodstuffs and believing this to be the best way to honor the goddess.

Once outside, he takes interest in the shrine of Muir. "The gods' influence is scarce in my clan's little nook of the Foothills. As such, I personally have never become a disciple of any of them, but I must say, I like the cut of this Muir's jib, if what I hear of him can be trusted."

He then leaves a gold piece in the shrine's offering box/plate and offers a deferential bow.

The Tavern of the Three Kegs is a modestly-sized building next to where the party had been stopped by guards, and aside from the stables outside it does not seem large enough to house many travelers. In fact, a sign on the door states that there are no rooms for rent. Inside, several tables have been set up and are filled with a motley crew of individuals. Some seem to be laborers taking a break from the hot sun, while others seem to be travelers who are confused as to why they were sent here instead of to a proper in. A fat, surly-looking halfling stands behind the bar, while a plump, jovial halfling woman scurries from table to table with plates of food and steins of ale.

Of all the tables, many seem quite full save one. A single table sits near the door to the kitchen, obviously seeing a lot of foot traffic, and a single woman sits alone.

Upon seeing that there are no rooms for rent, Nebbleshuven sighs. It figures.

He enters the tavern and looks around for a large, open table, but there aren't any unoccupied. Seeing the solitary woman, he takes a deep breath and heads over to her. He removes his helmet and says, "Pardon the intrusion, miss, but are these seats taken, and if not, would it be ok if me and my motley group," he gives a head nod towards the rest of the group, "could share it with you? We're just in from the road where we fought off some orcs, and we're tired and hungry. I'll even buy your meal."

The woman has the smell of magick on her, and so Ryenne casts a wary glance at her arm. While the mage may try to disguise himself, his shattered arm would surely be a feature of any such disguise.

In fact, the weary cleric scans the room and all its patrons with a suspicious glare.

Datura slides into a seat at the table without waiting for an invite and smiles a toothy grin at the woman seated there. She sticks out her little hand in greeting and introduces herself.

"Hi I'm Datura Wrightii and it's a pleasure to meet you! I've never been here before, what's good on the menu?"

The woman seated alone at the table mostly certainly isn't a regular at Three Kegs, and she looks up from the thick and dusty book she's studying as Nebbleshuven, Ryenne, Datura and all the rest of that troupe arrive in force, eying the empty spots around the pale-green eyed woman. Fair-skinned and dark-haired, she wears a well-made and well-worn dress, a garment that's both sturdy enough for travel, and that is low-necked enough to show off an eye-catching portion of the woman's rather generous feminine figure. She's attractive and might be the kind of woman who knows it; charms and bangles adorn her throat, wrists, and narrow waist. On her head rests a broad-rimmed hat -- the kind ofttimes worn by the female apprentices of certain magical colleges.

"Hello!" she says to Nebbles, smiling at him as Wrightii takes a seat and introduces herself as well. "To both of you -- to all of you, then! I am Kariantha Silverwick, daughter of Mylithios Silverwick, and student of the famed Archmage Alderamix the Grand."

The conversation swirls a moment, and the mage says, "Please, all sit, there is more than enough room. And to be sure, the potato stew is delicious... and I might know these brutish orcs you speak of, for I had fellows I was traveling with who met their rude ends at the hands of such!" Her voice lowers as she nods at the idea of having her meal covered. "Resulting in my being marooned here, in this little backwater town... with few coins and fewer prospects!"

Ryenne thinks about muttering something crude about wizards as the woman speaks.

Son of this… Daughter of that…

She wondered about the longest line of lineage one of these mages might recite.

"How was it that you made your escape?" Ryenne asks, trying to sound innocent, and a little less grumpy than she felt suddenly.

The answer would determine the quality of the magick woman.

Left them behind and made a run for it?…

"I knew you were a wizard! Know how? Your hat! How did you get those eyes? I can't see the middle part, so unique!"

Datura pauses her barrage of questions when she realizes that Ryenne has asked a far more important question,

"Oh yeah, how did you get away? With magic I bet."

Corian sits down at the table, listening to what everyone is saying. When he hears that Kariantha claims to be an apprentice to a wizard, he perks up. "Alderamix, you say? The name is familiar, though I struggle sometimes with the masters from outside Reme. By the looks of you and the sound of your story, I'd say the winds of fate were having a jest. For we surely look and feel much the same."

---

Galdar looks around at the room and casts a distrustful eye upon many. It seems as though he, too, we're looking for Vortigern to no avail.

---

The plump halfling approaches the table with hands full of far more steins than should be possible. True magic. "Name's Dalia, pleased t'meet you. And you lot, what'll you be having? Ale is a silver a mug, food is 5 copper. Tonight is potato stew and, well, you probably don't want to game tonight."

Nebbleshuven swallows the lump of nervousness, relieved that Miss Silverwick has granted the party permission to occupy her table. He keeps an ear open to hear her answer to Ryenne's question of how she escaped from the orcs while letting the hostess know that, yes please, he would like an ale and the potato stew very much.

Silverwick doesn’t seem to mind the attention, and she smiles with her eyes at Datura. "Why from my mother! Many considered her gaze magical! Mine certainly isn’t, but there’s a likeness."

Her face falls when she answers Ryenne. "It was terrible. My magics are only so strong. So while I’d warded my companions from harm, there were too many foes. I barely escaped with my life, and took an arrow for my trouble. The wound pains me still."

To Corian, she says, "My master sent me on a wild goose chase, I now believe, to be rid of me and my questions. He is a sour man, is Alderamix, with only time for his own studies and spells. He should not take on apprentices, but the college forces him to."

Faionn introduces herself in turn to the wizard Kariantha. When the time comes, she orders a stew and ale quietly and politely. "Please, keep the change," she says, handing the halfling woman a gold piece. "Better you do so than I. In fact," she addresses her party, "would anyone else like anything?"

Faionn files most of Kariantha's conversation away for future use. She doesn't imagine she could add much to this talk of wizards and apprentices (not to mention that it stings a bit too soon after what happened to poor
Olaf . . .), but such information could still prove useful to have. "About this wild goose chase . . ." she finally says, "what was it you were chasing? If it's not rude for me to ask, of course."

Ryenne softens once the answer doesn’t ping something in her gut.

"We know it all too well. There were more of us before. We lost one, but they tried their best to make the tally higher than that."

She motions to her bandaged arm; bandages mostly clean today at least.

"Ryenne, daughter of Thyr." she says, sidling in beside the Gnome.

Reaching out, Kariantha grabs a mug full of frothy ale and tilts her head slightly towards Nebbleshuven, reminding everyone, and especially the diminutive server, of his offer. Drinking deeply, coming away from the mug with a bit of foam on her upper lip, the young woman lifts her eyebrows at Faionn, and then Ryenne. Her manners suggest that perhaps her upbringing was not so… sheltered… as some who study the arcane arts.

"Good to meet you, Ryenne, I am Kariantha. Well met! And we quested for nothing less than the FABLED BOOK OF KORBUS! And in it, the Spell of All Summoning." She hesitates a moment to take another drink, then waves her free hand, saying, "Sounds very impressive, I know, but at this stage I’m not sure it even exists!"

Nebbleshuven is a man of his word and will pay for Kariantha's meal and drink. He nods affirmatively to the hostess.