The Black Wyrm of Brandonsford

"The missing extremity unfortunately suggests we have a hard journey ahead, nephew."

On their way to the Fox, Sable fills in Gann about the description and dragon information they gleaned from George the Hunter and how it sounds very different from what Gill the Farmer claims he fought. They hope to see him at the Fox to investigate more. He is very interested in hearing Gann's information on multiple leads for a weapon, information, and the Brother.

"It sounds like we should rescue this missing holy man first."

Once they arrive, Sable has no qualms joining the group for better drink and passing any meat he receives to Kittridge.

"I'll cover this meal Gann since you did tell me about this job."

Since Gill the Farmer is nowhere to be found, he is focused on the claims of stealing booze from Quinn. He will politely interrogate the Fox's staff, starting with Rosalind when she stops by, then Innkeeper Bentley while asking about a recommended drink for George, finally Gwenyth when she takes a break as her quiet observant ways may notice something amiss about the stocks between the two inns.

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The Clumsy Fox Tavern

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As the whole group gathers and shares what they’ve learned of the dragon, of the tale of Sir Brandon, and of Brother Dirk’s mission, they quickly learn that while the mood in the Fox is not festive, it certainly appears to be the beating heart of the town. With men missing or dead, with animals vanished from their fields and with talk of the woods being increasingly fae-haunted, there is naturally a damper on things. But with Gwenyth’s singing and playing, Tam’s mischievous antics, and Rosie’s spirit and natural charm the place just seems warm and welcoming. The food is hearty and delicious, the bread fresh and plentiful, and the beer, wine, and Fox Tail brew simply excellent.

Many conversations are had with strangers — people are of course very interested in why the five travelers are in town… and if they perhaps plan to do something about this dragon business. Rumors are plentiful: a supply shipment that was supposed to arrive by land from the north is more than a week late, and there’s been no sign of the brothers who own and operate the mine in the mountains up north for several fortnights now. Those burly young men normally deliver ore to Warwick the smith on the regular, but now word is that the man is desperately short on raw materials.

More outlandish tales are heard as well. That the witch in the east woods — Vivian being her name — turns trespassers to shrubbery with nor more than a look. And that a giant has been spotted in the woods east of the river, north of Vivian’s hut. Long-legged hounds with antlers, too, some townsfolk say they’ve seen at dusk and dawn.

Gwenyth, who plays barefoot, does little more than smile shyly and disappear into a back room when she’s between songs and sets. She’s difficult to catch for a conversation. As is Rosalind, for different reasons. The curly-haired barmaid is busy throughout the night. Her sister Tamsin helps here and there, but mostly prefers to joke, daydream, and hear stories from the tavern’s patrons.

Towards the end of the night, many folk have gone home or turned in. Cheeks are reddened by alcohol, but things are winding down. Gwenyth plays somber and gentle ballads on a lyre while Rosie cleans tables and Tam pretends to help.

Sable and Wren have both been looking for a moment to speak with Rosalind, and now would appear to be the time. Kittridge has been the subject of much attention, especially from the Fox girls, and he’s currently curled up near the fire, tired from the day’s journey.

Rowan has been quiet, and he sits with Nessa and Gann as they discuss their next moves, bellies full and backs warmed by the late-night fire.

Tamsin approaches to clear off their table, but sits down instead.

"So!" The redhead begins, resting her chin dramatically on her hand. "You’re dragon-slayers, is that right? That’s why ye’ve come to our little backwater?" Before anyone can respond, the girls adds, to Gann, "You’re a Marchguard, is that right? Shouldn’t there be… more of ya?"

During the evening:
Wren finishes her meal and decides to walk a bit. So she stands and takes a lap around the place, looking around for no other reason than it's interesting. Her eyes fall on the stout lady in armor. Immediately, Wren thinks, Yep she knows a thing or two about fighting! If she was approachable, then Wren would do so, ask her if she's heard the dragon rumors, etc


With Rosie:
Wren enjoys the evening and eventually catches Rosalind in a free moment. "So, Rosie, tell me. What's the deal with the guy, Quinn, at the other tavern? He had nothing but angry words to say about this place. Accused you guys of stealing his beer!"

Nessa never really acclimatizes to the mood in busy Fox. She has a bit of ale, a stark contrast to the sludge she had earlier no doubt, and a bite to eat. She is not very talkative and amongst the first to leave in the evening, returning to the Golden Egg without detour. She had payed for the room, she might as well get her silvers worth out of it. Hopefully it would not be another disappointment.

Interacting with the villagers was well and good, but not what she had come here to do. Witnessing the dragon would make for an interesting tale, but was it worth all this hassle? The stories of the villagers were interesting as well, but nothing she had not heard before.
After everything was said and done, she was pretty close to where she needed to be. She took another look at the letter. Her purpose was clear and she refocuses on her next steps.

Sable had already paid for his cheaper room at the Golden Egg and planned to still retire there tonight, but Kittridge looked like he wanted more than just a hambone so he was happy to oblige. Kittridge certainly enjoyed the attention and scraps he was getting because of it. Once his belly was full, the day had been enough for him and he curled up by the fire until it was time to go.

When Wren catches Rosalind at a quiet moment, he turns to join the conversation.

"Yes, he was very insistent about wrongdoing. By the way, George mentioned you gave him something to drink and he would like another. What do you suggest?"

Gann has already had enough of the evening and is eager to get back to the Egg to turn in, but he can't say no when Sable offers to pay his way. He sits with his new companions and tells them what he learned at the church, and making a case that they should set out after Brother Dirk in the morning once they make preparations.

He speaks with his Uncle about Quinn's missing stores, but wants to take a more direct approach. "I've half a mind to sleep in the storeroom, if the old man will promise not to blame me for it..."

Things finally start to calm, and Tamsin sits to talk. But right as this happens, Gann sees Nessa start to leave he takes the opportunity to excuse himself too.
Gann looks at her, mouth wide in mock offense. He lifts both of his wiry arms and flexes, deliberately misinterpreting her question. "I may be small, but there's just as much of me as there should be!"

He gives the girl a playful wink before chasing after Nessa, catching up just as she gets out the door.

"Hey, I'm heading back too, I'll walk you across the way." He pauses a moment, and trys to quiet his speech a bit in the relative silence outside the tavern. "So, do you think you'll join me in going after Brother Dirk, fae sword in the tomb of an ancient hero and all that?"

Gann pauses, then considers the woman he's speaking to, and chooses a different question. "I hope you don't take offense to this, miss, but you seem a bit out of place out here. Do you mind me asking, what's your interest in all this?"

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The Clumsy Fox Tavern - Earlier

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"Hilda!" the rosy-cheeked brunette says to Wren as they meet. "Hilda the Bold sometimes, Wren! Though it depends how I’m feelin’ at the time!"

The pair has a short conversation, and Wren discovered that Hilda is pleasant enough, professes to be a sword for hire, and that she found her way to Brandonsford just a couple of days ago — hoping to sign on with some other dragon-hunters.

"Doesn’t sound like a real dragon," she says before drinking a frothy mug of beer. "No wings and that, no fire-breathin’. At least that’s what I heard."

Wren smiles and engages in some pleasant chat with Hilda. Learning that she is a sword for hire, Wren inquires about her rates. "We might need another strong arm if we're gonna venture out, you know?"

Wren makes a note of Hilda's rate and thanks her for her time. Wren shares the info with the others, but admits she doesn't have the money to hire her.

With Gann

"Well yes, I am out of place here. It does not take a sage to see that." Nessa answers, maybe taking a bit of offense after all. "I do enjoy listening to folktales wherever I go though. I might not look like it, but I am a storyteller by trade after all. Still, that Inn is a bit too... uhm... busy for my liking." She sighs.

After a brief bit of awkward silence she continues: "I have my own business to attend to here in the woods, though if our paths align on the way there, I would not mind sharing the road with everyone once more. That being said, I doubt I can be easily convinced to do a service for the church." The last sentence is delivered surprisingly sharply.

"A storyteller? I'd love to hear a story sometime if the right mood strikes you!" Gann opens up the door to the Golden Egg, letting Nessa through first. "We'll need a map. I heard the mercantilist might have one, Cedric I think, should be in town tomorrow. Maybe your business is near where the Brother wandered off to?"

Gann glances around the room. He's looking particularly for Quinn, but curious if anybody comes here at all.

"And I'm not really doing it for the church you know, I just think he's not gonna last long out there on his own."

"It has been a while since I last got a chance to share a story with someone, I hope I have not grown rusty. Suppose I ought to ply my trade more often, my funds are quickly dwindling and I'd rather not suffer the indignity of tasting the Eggs ale again." She says as they enter the Golden Egg, uncaring if the Innkeeper overhears her complaint about the ale or not.

"Though..." She continues, giving Gann a suspicious look. "...Why are you going after that brother, if not out of piety?"

"Appreciate it miss."

As they wait for the mug for George, Sable continues the conversation on Quinn.

"Perhaps it is jealousy, but pretty bold to accuse your competitor of criminal activity. He claims someone comes every night and steals his best alcohol."

He pretends to take a long look at the alcohol around the room and behind the bar.

"More interesting, how do you stay so well stocked? Poor ol' Quinn was saying he was still waiting on his shipment due to the 'dragon' in the area."