Against the Cult: Entering Orlane (1.7)

At least forty A few minutes have passed since Theran transformed into a spider. ::He's going to return any minute now,:: Reptile thinks to himself. Hidden in the shadows of the empty barn, the barbarian peers out and notices a pair of men come into view, walking north past the Golden Grain Inn. One of them is definitely one of the patrons that attacked him last night. They're about to pass the barn, apparently on their way to the bridge across the Realstream river.

Myrtha, Chase, Aanbo, and Joseph are in the Grove with the kooky old man and his pet weasel, Whiskers. Ramne looks solemnly at Myrtha as she explains what the party has been doing, and at her question, he nods. But, slightly too loud, he cackles and then adds in his quavering voice "Heh-heh-heh! Oh, going to look at the village, eh? That's the right idea! Everyone is so friendly here!" He gestures at the door to his shack. "I don't have much on hand for entertainin', but I'm sure I could make you some tea! I pick it myself from my garden!" He gestures more insistently at the door, jerking his head toward the doorway so that his hat flops down over his face and up again. He mouths the words Let's talk inside. Then, again slightly too loud, he crows: "Don't mind the smell! I don't get many visitors!" Whiskers scampers down his clothes and romps across the ground and through the door. A moment later, the weasel's head pokes out around the door jamb and looks at you all with big eyes.

Inside, the shack is barely more reputable than the exterior: all the furniture (a table, a few stools, a washstand) has clearly been made by hand, not by a skilled artisan, but by a person with only the most basic understanding of physics. Few of the pieces incorporate nails or pegs, and lashed-together twigs and balanced planks are commonplace. The smell of beeswax is strong; there are many melted candles on a plank balanced on two crates. There are coils of rope, piles of bricks, various branches in various states of whittling, scattered all about the space. The old man, Ramne, hobbles in after the four adventurers and closes the door behind him.

"I don't know if I can trust you, but the fact that you know Diana and you just arrived in town gives me hope." He smiles, revealing the gaps in his teeth once again. Then his brow furrows in a frown. "But in case I'm wrong, know this: I won't go down without a fight." He juts out his lower jaw as he squints at all of you. Then, after a few moments, Ramne relaxes and sighs. "Well, let me get the tea started." He crosses over to a little alcove set in the wall made of bricks, which you'd overlooked as just more of the bric-a-brac in this space, but now realize is a little kludged-together fireplace and chimney. He picks up a pot, peers in and then glances at you, reminding himself of how many people there are for tea, then nods. A fire starts in the space and he sets the pot down in it. Most of the smoke coils up the chimney...most of it. Whiskers scampers around, then settles down out of the way, by one of the crates.

Ramne turns, takes off the floppy rag he uses as a hat, and stuffs it back in a fold in his clothing. "That'll take a while to heat up again. Now, where were we..." He realizes that everyone is still standing. "Oh! Please, have a seat." He pulls up a stool made of bundles of twigs and plops down with a sigh, a creak of wood, and a popping of many joints. "How to begin? Well...to put it simply: there is evil in Orlane." He watches each of you closely, suspiciously. "Over the last few months, people have been disappearing. Some of the people come back again, but they're...changed. Some of the people never come back." He sighs. "The people that come back...?" He shakes his head, and shrugs. "There's something wrong with them. I talk to people, sometimes, and they don't seem upset about the change in the village. There's weird goings-on at night, with lots of people moving around after dark when all decent people are asleep. I swear to Merikka one time I think I saw monsters down by that Inn in the night! Walking upright on two legs, but not men, or elves, or dwarves..." He smiles his gummy smile again at Joseph. "...or halflings! They were tall, and naked, and green." He glances over at Whiskers. "I didn't see them clearly; I don't see so good in the dark, but I really did see them! I tried to tell people here about it, but..." He sighs heavily, and scratches his bald head. "They all think I'm crazy." He looks at the Dungeon Busters mournfully. "I don't try to talk to people anymore."

Spider-Theran takes some time crawling around the room, looking for a hidden key. But he hasn't covered more than a quarter of the room when he realizes that his time in spider form is almost done. is unable to find one.

Perhaps as much as ten minutes have passed since Theran first transformed and then started moving toward the Inn. There is the door to the outside, and the door leading back into the parlor room with the fireplace. You have not yet explored upstairs or through the other door off of the common room. What do you want to do next?

Ramne stiffens when Aanbo reaches for something, but gradually relaxes as he sees that it is beads and not obviously a weapon of some kind. "Yes, it is Merikka's temple. Orlane has been blessed by Merikka for generations, and is known far and wide as the source of the best produce in the Flanaess due to her bounty. I may be a crafty old man, but I'm not so smart to think I'd be able to support myself with my little garden out there if not for Merikka's blessing." He shakes his head, his scraggly halo of wispy white hair waving. "Whatever the source of the evil is, it's not Merikka, our lady of the harvest."