The Call for Adventure

12th of Flemont, Nytdain, 990 AC. Threshold.

"Goblins! They still got goblins in Karamekios!!!"

The burly, bearded man’s voice boomed across the crowded hall, drawing the attention of a few nearby patrons. He was a mountain of a man, with broad shoulders and a neck like a tree trunk, his hair the color of fire and his mustache frothy with the remnants of his last drink. The rosy hue of his cheeks and the empty pitchers piled up on the table suggested he'd already had more than his fair share of beer.

He slapped William on the shoulder, the friendly gesture causing the sound of his plate to rattle. "They got them payin’ a silver piece for a goblin, but there’s so many of 'em, the Baron’s coffers will go empty before we make a dent in their numbers. These buggers breed like—" The man paused, struggling to find the right words, before finally grunting, "Like goblins!!!"

A round of laughter echoed through the table at the bluntness of it, and the man, undeterred, reached for a large hunk of roasted pork. With his teeth, he tore off a chunk and went off talking, undeterred, with his mouth full: "Can’t get rid of ‘em, no matter how many we kill. Too many goblins in this land, by the looks of it."

His companion, a tall and graceful Taladarn woman with striking features, sat opposite to him, rolled her eyes as she pushed a plate of sausages around on the table. She was more refined in her manner, though she couldn’t help but chuckle at the man's bluntness.

"What are you here for?" the man continued "The goblin hunt too? Well, whatever you do, don't be tempted to go up to Castle Mistamere. They say it’s haunted. A party went there a few days back... not a single man came back." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and took another long swig from his mug.

Anton was not accustomed to this manor of eating, so communal, shoulder to shoulder, yet somehow it felt alright. He picked at the food on his plate with a fork and knife absent mindedly as he took in the conversations around him. He took notes mentally about the Goblins, and Castle Mistamere. Might be good ways to make some coin to further his spell research. He needed to learn a fair few spells to get promoted with the Magicians Guild of Karameikos.

Reseating his glasses on his nose he frowned, they had smudges on them, traveling up the river from Specularum has probably covered them in some sort of mist that now collected the oil, dirt, and soot from the fire. He took further note to find some sort of reagent that would help him clean them more thoroughly. He picked up his own tankard of ale and drank from his heartily, then after sitting it down a mess of his light brown hair fell over his forehead and one eye so he reached a pale hand up to push it back into place.

"These Goblins..." he said, beckoning to the burly bearded man, "...what color variety are they? Standard green? And how do you go about collecting the Baron's ransom on them, cutting off their ears maybe? It would be smarter for the Baron to collect noses, each goblin has only one of those"

"Standard brown fur, yes" the woman sitting opposite to the the big burly man answered in his stead, while he was busy chugging the mug of beer, foam dripping down his thick beard. She shot him a glance, rolling her eyes ever so slightly before she went on "The goblin raids have been happening more frequently these last couple of months. They're coming out of the woods in droves. Normally, we see more goblin activity in the summer months, but this... this is worse than I can ever remember."

The woman stopped talking while a tavern maid with a round tray balanced on one hand weaved through the long rows of tables stopped by to pour another round of ale into the mugs before disappearing back into the kitchen. The big man, in the meantime, oblivious to everything except the food, leaned across the table to reach for the pecan pie before tearing into it with gusto.

"Usually, goblin activity picks up before autumn begins" the woman added "But this... this feels different. The goblins are out in force. It’s like they’re being driven by something... or someone."

When Anton casually mentioned cutting off ears or the tips of the noses to claim a bounty, Natasha's nose wrinkled in disgust. "We carry the bodies back on our mules" she replied. It was true that some parties did resort to it hacking off body parts, but she herself found the idea ghastly, even if these were goblins "It’s more work, but less... messy."

The woman stopped, making up her mind about something before carrying on:

"We’ve worked together for a while now. I’m Natasha, and this here…" she gestured to big man, who occupied himself with the food as the ‘brain’ of the two was talking "... is Hunter. We’ve traveled here because there’s a lot that needs doing to help the people of Lugsid*. The Baron pays handsomely to get adventurers like us to lend a hand. I wouldn’t mind joining forces, if you’re willing. There are some bounties the two of us won’t be able to claim on our own, and it’s safer in a larger group. Especially now, with the goblins more aggressive than ever. The more we work together, the better are our chances"

Brother Yakov ambles up to the table with a drink in hand. "Excuse me. It looks... seems like maybe I can squeeze in..." he mumbles as he wedges himself between two patrons who clearly didn't think they were leaving room between them for someone else. "Thank you, gents," he says with a smile after he settles in.

"Goblins!" he says to Hunter and Natasha. "Shame. I have long prayed that Petra would inspire those gremlins to become more pleasant neighbors. Alas, they are stubborn in their ways.

"But tell me, what folk disappeared in Castle Mistamere? Locals? Might there still be hope of their return. Or perhas rescue? And what possessed them to go to a haunted castle in the first place?"

"Umm… mmm... mmnu" Hunter mumbled, barely understandable with his mouth full. He swallowed the bite of meat, then tried again. "Baron put a big big reward up for reclaiming the castle. Gunther’s party went up there two weeks ago. Haven’t heard anything from them since."

"The castle is abandoned for many centuries. People say it is cursed. Haunted by ghosts of terrible past" it looked like it wasn’t the first time Natasha had this conversation, her last words were directed not only to her new acquaintances, but to her traveling companion as well: "No reward is worth it if you’re not alive to spend it. Sometimes, it’s best to leave old things undisturbed"

William is about to take another delicious bite of dinner, before chatter about dismembering goblin ears ensues. Suddenly everything becomes even less appetizing.

If that’s even possible!

Goblins. Literally coming out of the woodwork, eh?! Well we need to do something about that!

Our fightery fellow takes a big swig of mead, then slams his tankard onto the table. Then, he takes a hearty bite of…bread. And then he slams his bread down…on the table. Which, just makes a bit of an awkward mushy mess.

We need to form a team to dispatch some goblins..and maybe to reclaim yon castle, it seems. Who’s with me?!

I am William, William Winter. Whoever’s up for dispatching goblins or reclaiming lost baronies, just call me Will!

Nightshades sits at a table in the tavern on the far side of the fire, cloaked in shadows as he quietly finishes his meal. Listening to Hunter's story, the number of goblins doubles with every drink he has. Nightshade never understood the human's need to brag and exaggerate, but hey, to each his own. Collecting the bounty on goblins sounds like a lot of work for just a few silvers, but this haunted Castle Mistamere sounds interesting. And anyone or anything capable of driving a band of goblins out of the woods probably has some treasure worth liberating. Regardless, I can't sit idle, lay by, and let these creatures disturb the serenity of the forest. Finally, an academic type, a cleric, not to mention a fighter, seems to have taken an interest in Hunters and Natasha's story. There might be an adventure to be had here. Nightshade strikes a match to light his pipe briefly, illuminating his face as he goes back to quietly observing the goings-on in the tavern.

"Well spoken, Will!" the burly man beside him exclaimed with a hearty, throaty, laugh "I think you and I will get along just fine!"

Noticing Will had emptied his mug, Hunter waved over the serving wench and gestured for her to refill it. The beer was free after the hefty cover charge, so why not take advantage of it? He grabbed his own mug and clinked it against Will’s with a loud cheer: "To glory!" Then, with a playful glint in his eye, the rosy-cheeked giant raised his mug to his lips, challenging Will to see if he could finish his drink before the big man did.

Natasha shot Hunter a quick glance. The large man seemed more interested in drinking and feasting than discussing anything serious, and she couldn’t fault him for that. But once again, it was up to her to ensure they were prepared for the next day’s tasks and to arrange for the bigger bounties. If it were up to Hunter, he’d be hunting goblins all day, only to drink away every coin he earned by nightfall.

"Well, whatever you do, just be careful," Natasha said, her tone dropping to a more serious note "I saw a bounty for a man named Bargle —a renegade Thyatian wizard. There’s a 4,000 gold reward for anyone who can bring him in, dead or alive. With such a huge sum, I’d wager he’s a dangerous one. I also heard that Darius Guillroy, from the Archaeological Society, is looking for people to accompany him to the site of a recently uncovered Traladaran village. It’s a few days’ travel from here, and I thought it might be worth considering, but it’s too much for just the two of us to handle, plus I wanted to be here tomorrow night for the Baron’s townhall about the goblin troubles."
Natasha of course, noticed the cloaked man smoking on his pipe. He was peculiar. Quiet, thoughtful, and out of place amidst the tavern’s noisy crowd. She considered addressing him with words, but eventually she decided against it, deciding against disturbing him.

Anton grinned, this was a lively bunch that he'd found himself amongst, and it seemed like opportunities abound. A wizard named Bargle worth 4000 gold, that was quite a bounty. As Nathasha said he would probably be pretty dangerous. With the Goblins being so rampant though, it was better to pick them off and earn some coin, keep the adventuring fund well stocked and maybe, if he could find some scrolls, earn enough to expand his repertoire.

"Here here!" Anton raised his glass to Will and Hunter, he then looked back to Natasha, "Sorry for my crassness before, it's my first time away from home, so all I have to go off of is old fisherman's tales as to how these dealings play out. I am Anton Rybakov..." he said just loud enough for others to hear it, "I'd be happy to join your group, my specialty is the arcane, reading and deciphering ancient text mostly, but I am also good for packing goblins onto mules" he grinned as he took another drink from his tankard.

"Well, Will..." Yakov says, pausing to chuckle at the alliteration, "those sound like deeds worthy of Halav. I will aid you, if you'll have me. My fighting skills are middling, but I have The Three at my back. Let us carry their justice to these goblins." Yakov raised his mug in a salute to Will and then downed the remaining ale.

Listening to the conversation, Nightshade allows himself a moment of indulgence, imagining how he would spend 4000 gp. But wizards are worse than kobolds when it comes to living in death-trap filled sprawling-dungeons. It seems that now we have a suspect for who is leading these rampaging goblins. Nightshade feels a pang of frustration at the mention of a townhall. It never fails. Talkers always have an excuse to keep talking. But checking with the Baron and ensuring the bounty is real is a good idea. Leaning back in my seat and taking a deep breath, followed by blowing a smoke ring, Nightshade hears the Cleric remind the group that we must bring justice to these defilers of the forest. Finally, a man of action.