OOC:
If you want to take anything Jessen and family, you can do so, it'll just delay the story below by a day or so in game.
Wibbly Wobbly Timey Wimey Stuff
Your aerial supporters sail through the sky, eyes roaming the ground below. Between the two of them, they keep a careful watch, though nothing comes of it. It doesn't take overly long until your crew is able to meet back together at the cave. Your carts and livestock are right where you left them, though the horses have made their way out onto the fields to enjoy some fresh grass in your absence. The day is getting close to over, however, and steely gray clouds start rolling in once more.
You decide to hold out another night in the cave and set off with first light. The night passes without incident, and the weather seems to have blown over without much worry either. The sun breaks the horizon and birds sing their songs through the morning air. You pack your things and start the arduous task of heading back north along the road.
Thankfully, you're stricken with a bout of pleasant weather! Warm sun, gentle breezes, and clear blue skies dominate the next three days. You're able to acquire any food you'd like, and you make stop overs in little villages where rooms are offered free of charge. The next two days, the air turns a touch chillier. The mountains loom in the distance while you travel between the heaving hills of the Crags to the west and the leafy depths of the Lurkwood to the east. Near sundown the next day, you find yourselves crossing the River Mirar, en route to Mirabar. Guards, both human and dwarven, look sternly at you as you pass through the gates in the squat stone walls. Those of you familiar with the area (DC10 INT check) recognize that you are finally at the base of the mountains that have been your target since you left the crazed old man, Fecksmith. You are easily able to fine a tavern that appears to cater more to travelers than to local miners and secure cheap, but passable, rooms for the night.
You find your group seated around a nicely maintained wooden table in the corner of The Griffin's Gullet, steins or cups of whatever drink you desire. Plates of hearty meat and shallow bowls of thick stew sit in front of each of you.
[ +- ] Information from Fecksmith to refresh you from 15 months ago!
So, you've come to speak with the old coot Fecksmith, eh? You've quite the merry band of misfits with you, eh? As it happens, yes, I do have a bit of information about this object I think you seek. If it is the Crown, the last I heard was that the Mad Mage Merinson had acquired that mystical device. The rumor is that he has no permanent ground-based home. He stole, and then ensorcelled, a small keep and tower. It now flies where he wills it to, watching the world below. He sees himself as a collector of antiquities and relics of the Plaugetime. If you seek him now, prepare your resting place, for you are all too weak to break him. That said, there are rumors. Not of the crown, but of the scepter. The scepter lies buried, with its final wielder: Lord of the Long Reaches. His tomb is accessible only by those willing to brave the colds and the winds of the mountains north of the Lurkwood. Or you could hunt down this Mad Mage yourself. He often looks to find those of sufficient magical power for him to train for some unknown purpose. Now, make yourselves at home here in Willowfall for at least a night or two. Once you are prepared, set out whichever way. Tell no one of my nature, tell no one of my truth. The only reason that Merinson hasn't found me to date is that I've kept a low profile. If adventurers the likes of you are able to find me, so too are his agents.
What to do and where to go/plan for the next steps.