Against the Cult: Entering Orlane (1.7)

After getting an early start, you travel for most of the day down Cecily's Road. In the late afternoon, the Realstream River meanders back toward the road, and you proceed with the river on your left for a few more miles. A bit before sunset, a cluster of buildings becomes visible in a cleared area of forest ahead, gathered around a lake formed by a dam on the river. A small rise on the other side of this is topped by trees surrounding a large stone temple overlooking the village. This is ORLANE.

For most of the trip during the past few hours, it's been clear that Cecily's Road was built and maintained some distance from the Realstream River to reduce the likelihood of the road getting washed out. This has meant that the road has followed a more difficult path at times. Here the Road had climbed a little hill, which provided that overlook, and the road descends back to the village. The closest visible Inn is at the first crossroads, just a little ways away. Walking down the road, at some point the party realizes that they're in Orlane, rather than still approaching it, though the boundary isn't really clear. The first set of buildings they pass on the right: a well-built little wooden house with a barn out back and gardens flanking the front porch. A human teenager sits on a chair on the porch, desultorily churning butter. But when she sees the party, her eyes widen and she leaves off her chore and runs inside, slamming the door behind her. Curtains in the windows on either side of the door conceal the view through real glass windows of the interior.

Across the road, three little girls who were playing in the dust of the yard in front of another neat little house stop at the clank and clink of adventurers and they stare, gawking comically at the heroes with their slack jaws hanging open. Past that house stands the crossroads: the girls' house is on the nearer left corner, the Inn is on the far left corner, a sturdy square building with heavy shutters stands on the near right corner with a long low building behind it, and a shop with a spinning wheel above the door stands in the far right corner.

What do you do next? Where do you go?

The girls in the farmyard on the left continue to stare at the party with curiosity until an older human girl (who looks related) hurries out of the house, smiles politely and waves at the strangers, then quickly ushers the youngsters inside.

Continuing on, the sturdy building on the right with the shuttered windows has a sturdy, metal-reinforced door that stands open. Past it, on the right, the new building with the spinning wheel above the door has several bales of wool stacked on the wide porch on either side of the closed door.

Opposite that, the large wooden building at the crossroads is even more clearly an inn when seen close up. Sheaves of wheat are carved into the eaves of the roof, with a sign depicting a cluster of wheat and a foaming pitcher hands over the door. A corral and stable stand out back. The building has seen better days - much of the whitewash has peeled away - but the view through the propped-open double doors shows that there are several people seated at tables and the bar inside.



THE GOLDEN GRAIN INN
Stepping through the doors, the party sees a large common room with about ten customers sitting at tables or at the bar. A large human bartender beams and calls a boisterous greeting in Imperial with an eastern accent: "Hello, travelers!" He wipes his hands on a rag tucked into his straining belt and comes around from behind the bar. "Welcome to the Golden Grain Inn!" He counts the number of you, then looks at the bar. "Well, we don't really have room for all of you at the bar, so if you want to stick together, you can have a seat at a table..." He looks at the tables, each of which have one or two people sitting at them. "Oh! Excuse me..." He taps a man sitting by himself at a table. "Bimmy, why don't you move over to a chair by the fireplace so these folks can sit together?" Bimmy, clearly a little tipsy, blinks for a moment, and then finally nods with understanding. He gets up and moves to the storyteller's seat by the fireplace, though it's early enough that the fire has not yet been lit. As you are settling down, the man's eyes widen. "Ah! I haven't introduced myself: I am Bertram Beswill, and this is my inn. I can get you refreshments, food, or rooms for the night...or all three..?"