Lost Mine of Phandelver

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"Yes. Coins." Reaching into her pouch, only a few golden discs sat in her scaled hand as she let out a low hiss. "Doubt have enough discs. Will speak with others about crates."

Letting the coins trickle back into the small pouch she stared at the woman, "No fighter caste? How protect from animals. Threats." With a strange motion Vutha shook her head, "Scale-less not even keep fake-scaled around to protect them? No teeth," she snapped her jaw for emphasis, "to defend with." Silent for a moment she looked at Bryn, "Will return. Speak with others. Spending night in village."

Bringing up a scaled hand she showed the woman her claws, "Clan taught all have claws. All have teeth. All can defend territory. Need only sharpen."
 
In the center of town stands a large, newly built roadhouse of fieldstone and rough-hewn timbers. The common room is filled with locals nursing mugs of ale or cider, all of them eyeing you with curiosity. A short young human man stands behind the bar, smiling and chatting with a much cleaner, healthier looking Sildar, and older, an older human man with white hair and a somewhat unusual looking individual with a blue tint to his skin and fins jutting out from his calves. Sildar turns as you enter and greets you with a warm smile.

"Ah, here they are now. These are the folks who saved me from that goblin cave." He turns to the bartender and places some copper on the counter. "Toblen, their first round is on me." He takes another small purse from his belt and hands it to Merimar. "Payment as promised. 50 gold for acting as my escort. It's not much, but I have a few more jobs for you from the Lords Alliance that will earn you some more, if you're interested. But that can wait until tomorrow."

He turns a bit and slaps the strange looking individual on the shoulder.

"This is Ioanin. You may find your goals align, if you're still planning to seek out Gundren and the Cragmaw clan at their castle." Then he turns to the older human at his other side. "And this is Vurnor Leng. He's looking for some help with a goblin problem near their town of Oakhurst. The last party they sent to deal with it was killed. And it just so happens one of them was carrying a magic sword called Shatterspike at the time." He looks pointedly at Bryn.

The half-elf raises an eyebrow, intrigued by a more concrete lead than the one he is currently following. and steps toward Leng. "I may be able to help you out with this problem of yours. Let's talk." He ushers Leng away from the group and over to an open table in the corner.
 
Merimar accepted the small purse from Sildar with a polite nod. "Thank you, and thank you for the drinks." Merimar looked towards Fuska, Vutha and Calal. "What'd you say we get a round in and discuss everything over drinks?" Merimar suggested.

'And I should probably warn Fuska, Vutha and Calal at least about the Redbrands at some point.' Merimar thought to herself as she started working out how to split the gold evenly amongst them in her head, 'I wonder if Sildar knows about them as well?'
 
After quietly enjoying Calal’s attempt to train his new pets, Fuska joined the others at the bar. At Merimar’s inquiry of drinks, the normally stoic Goliath breaks into a wide smile, growling “Yes, drinks!” He then glances down at the bartender, “Ale.” And attempts to sit on a barstool, but tentatively, as he is unsure if it could support his weight. Fuska eyes the newcomer once quickly before beginning the process of doffing his chainmail as he waited for his drinks.
 
Ioanin took in the strange crowd before him calmly, having grown used to meeting all sorts of strange sorts of surface creatures in his first weeks on the land, but none as strange as the ones before him. Quite the curious lot we have here. I am familiar with the lizard tribes near the coasts of our territory, but the rest of these have me thoroughly puzzled. He shrugged standing from his seat to his full height, which was well under five and a half feet. Despite his small height, however, his muscles were clearly built to compensate, filling out the clam-shell patterned scalemail he wore as armor. His well define, sharp facial features gave off an imperial elegance, and his piercing golden gaze was that of a man who was self assured of his own import.

Ioanin gave the group before him a small bow. "Hail and well met, surface denizens. Thy humble accompaniment hath been smiled upon by Persana on this day, as He hath intertwined our journies together. I am Ioanin, Land Walker of the Narajutzpit people and second son of Partronox the Tidebreaker. Thy quest to slay the dreaded beasts of this land speaks to the nobility of thy group, and I have opted to bequeath my great services in thou endeavor." He straightened up straight, the well polished anchor shaped pick at his side now more readily visible as he scanned his new companions' expressions. It was evident from his tone that the matter of him joining them was not a question.
 
Calal had come in behind Fuska and Meri, but now physically grimaced when he saw the Triton. "it is typically considered polite to ask before assigning yourself to a task others have already uptaken." He moves to sit at the bar, giving a sharp nod at the idea of drinks. "Yes, please, drinks sound good to me. I believe that I will need one."
 
Glancing towards the barkeeper as drinks were ordered, Vutha merely spoke, "Cider," the only thing that scale-less seemed to make that was close to what her clan would ferment and craft for their few festivals and celebrations.

Her gaze returned to the blue-skinned one, yet another scale-less, though they were different, but internally she sighed. Another one that liked to talk a lot. She merely replied, "Vutha."

Turning to Meri, Fuska and Calal while Bryn had his conversation she continued, "Need to bring crates from cave. Then get metal discs for trade, then decide new task." Her lips raised briefly, showing her teeth, "Accused of theft. Merchant said no fighter-caste here, red cloaks rampant. Thought we were of that clan because of crates."
 
Seeing that everyone else was going alcoholic, Merimar decided to be the designated sober of the group, "Cup of mint tea for me please," she said to the bartender.

Hearing someone else speaking, Merimar looked at the ornate clamshell plate and gradually lifted her eyes upward to see golden eyes. "Heh, if everyone else is fine with it, the more the merrier." Merimar said as she listened to Vutha describing what happened at the shop.

"Red cloaks?" Merimar asked, "Oh, right. Sorry. Forgot to warn everyone in my excitement over the dogs." Merimar said, dropping her voice to a whisper, "The entire town is infested with a gang called the Redbrands. Maybe the merchant thought you were one of them." Keeping her voice in the whisper Merimar added, "That person I asked about, Daran Edermath, I heard they were looking for help clearing them out."
 
Bryn reappears at the edge of the group, looking equal part sheepish and excited.

"Well it was an adventure traveling with you, but it looks like I'm off for another one. The leads I had on Talon were never that firm, but it was to be expected as the sword was lost centuries ago. Mr. Leng there has something a little promising, and I could do some good in the process. It looks like this is where we part ways."

He holds out his hand to each member he had traveled with, shakes them and rejoins the man he had been talking to before they exit the inn.
 
Ioanin looked up at the dusky skinned elf and nodded. "As it is polite to thank those who offer you their aid, but I shall forgive this transgression. Indeed, it is far greater of a fault to begrudge thy brother in arms, and thou wilt not find such a fault in I." He smiled up at the drow and clapped their leg, not noticing that they were no longer paying attention to them. Looking over to the shorter tusked individual, Ioanin raised an eyebrow to her. "What ill speak is this of some band of ruffians? Redbrands, eh? I say we paint your land red with them!" He let out a boisterous laugh, seemingly much louder than a figure of his size could normally produce.
 
Calal nearly throws himself off the stool, taking several large steps back and tucking his arms into his body as he shot a fearful look at the small man. "Do not touch me." He snarls softly, but the look of fear on his face cut into his words, leaving them shaky and fearful. "And you did not OFFER me aid. You forced it. That is not an offer. That is an order. I do not like orders."
 
Sensing the hostility, Merimar figured she'd try and calm things down by diverting the subject to something she was familiar with and might get a chance to learn more about - religion.

"You mentioned someone named Persana earlier, is that a deity you follow?" Merimar asked Ioanin.
 
Ioanin looked at the taller man in confusion. "Sir, it appears I must apologize? I had no inclination for thy personage to take offense with such a gesture. It was merely a show of camaraderie is all. And as for 'forcing' my aid upon thine accompaniment, it appears as if my understanding of maths differs from that of the surface. There are..." Ioanin took a moment to count out the party. "Four in this party of brave adventurers. And there are innumerable monstrous creatures that seek to do ill in this land. I do not claim to be a scholar, but I believe thy odds would find themselves in greater balance with a greater number of members. There are no orders being spoken, simply the natural alignment of those with like-minded aspirations from what I have gathered from my talks with thy employer. As is natural, it is thine right to decline my aid, and accept all consequences of such a course of action." Having finished his explanation, Ioanin returned to his seat and took a drink from the mug of ale he had previously ordered.

Turning back around to the tusked individual, Ioanin nodded. "Persana is the watcher beneath the waves, the bulwark against the forces of chaos, and the shepherd to all peoples, both above and below. He deserves the praise of all, and yet is content with the knowledge of his great deeds." He looked to a necklace around his neck in reverence and sighed. "A true model of a great hero."
 
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Vutha gave a long slow hiss after Ioanin finally finished speaking, barely blinking at Calal's outburst. "Air is for breathing. Not filling with words." She brought up a scaled hand, holding her claws just apart, "Preciseness should be sought. Greater numbers are good in a fight, but cleverness can win a hunt." Grabbing her cider she moved to a seat, attempting to drink out of the mug -- her mouth not working well with the shape of the cup, instead almost lapping it up with her tongue. Her gaze landed on Merimar: "What get for clearing out pests."
 
Merimar shrugged her shoulders, "Don't know. I'd think there was some form of reward, even if it was just the goodwill of the town." Sitting down between Calal and Ioanin, Merimar took a sip of her mint tea, "Will have to talk to Mister Edermath about that." With a nod to Calal the half-orc added, "When we're not training our new wolves."

To Ioanin, Merimar added, "Hmm, sounds like your Persana would get on well with The Shining One. How's everyone's drinks?"
 
Fuska looked down upon Hewannin curiously, noticing the heavily muscled form of the small man. He always enjoyed seeing the smaller folk who clearly took care to strengthen their little forms, it was somewhat endearing to him. But the words that came out of his mouth...it was somewhere around the time that the blue man began to apologize to Calal that Fuska zoned out of the conversation and began to guzzle down his ale. He was nearly finished with his second ale by the time Merimar asked how everyone's drinks were, to which Fuska responded with a thunderous belch, followed by a childlike chuckle. "Don't know if you want to breathe this air right now Vutha, might get sick."

In response to Merimar's suggestion of fighting these Redcloaks, he didn't care so much for the prize of defeating them as viewed it as another challenge to defeat. Fuska shrugged, simply saying, "I'll fight."
 
Even at Fuska's warning, Vutha took a tentative sniff before closing her nostrils, only breathing through her mouth as she continued to lap up the cider. "Can't eat 'goodwill'. Will need to decide first task. Seeking the stolen Dwarf, retrieving crates, or clearing pests." Her reptilian eyes flicked over to Ioanin, "What you think. Since volunteered to join. What can you do to aid."
 
Ioanin let out a deep, rumbling laugh that carried across the room. “What can I do? My dear scaley friend, there is little in this world that Ioanin of the Narajutzpit cannot do. With the divine purity that runs through my veins, gifted by our Lord who stands vigilant in the depths, I can smite foul creatures with unrelenting justice, and tend to my allies with the healing waters of life.” Ioanin then went quiet and thought to himself for a moment. “I suppose these bandits may prove to be a challenge worthy of my abilities. However, thy accompaniment may choose whatever task thou deemst fit for that on talents, as I am alas blind in that regard.”
 
Finishing the cider, or at least however much Vutha could manage to drink in her own way she set the mug down, head tilting slightly as she looked over Ioanin. "So healer."

Her gaze swept over the party, "Think: Tomorrow seek the crates. Get reward. See what reward for bandits. If worth, do. If not, other task. Seek Dwarf perhaps." Repeating her awkward attempt of a shrug, her nostrils opened as she tested the air. "Sleep tonight, rest. Here or camp." Pushing herself to her feet she stood, tail sweeping behind her as she leaned in to stare at Ioanin, "If join, less words. Precise. Taught only so many breaths in one life, use wisely. Lesson for you."
 
Finishing off her mint tea, Merimar nodded in agreement with Vutha. "Sleep sounds good. We could probably afford a couple of rooms."

Hearing Vutha talk about what she'd been taught, Merimar couldn't help wondering what other teachings Vutha had. But she decided that was a conversation for another day. Glancing over to Ioanin, Merimar smiled, 'I'm glad we've got a paladin from the sounds of it.' Merimar thought as she started to feel a little tired.
 
As the group begins to retire, and Vutha seeks a tree to sleep in, she crosses through the square, and abruptly runs into a young elf woman emerging from a small stone structure. It appears to have been cobbled together from stones taken from ruins around the town.

"Oh my!" she gasps, before composing herself. "Um, welcome, have you come seeking Tymora's guidance? I was going home for the night but the shrine is always open to those in need of a little luck."
 
Staring at the structure for a moment, Vutha turned her gaze to the woman. "Not seeking luck. Seeking tree for sleep." She shifted her weight, "Cannot eat 'luck'. Best not to rely on. Skill, tools, rely on."
 
"Ah I see. With skills and tools you can make the most of luck when it presents itself to you. Well said." She extends a hand in greeting, stifling a yawn with the other. "I am Sister Garaele. If you ever seek guidance, the Shrine of Luck is always open. Good night!"
 
The next day is spent on an errand for the Lionshield Coster to return the missing goods they discovered in the goblin cave. It's an uneventful trip, mostly spent getting to know their new companion Ioanin. Linene Graywind is thrilled at the return of her supplies, letting a cautious smile show through.

"Thank you so much," she says in her reserved manner, though her tone is light. "I'm sorry for doubting you before. Just the way things are around here lately." She hands over a bag of 25 gold and a shortbow and quiver of arrows to Vutha. "If you need anything in the future, let me know. I'm almost always in the shop."

A short time later, another pig in tow, the party heads for the marked tree outside the northern edge of town to feed and train the wolves. They don't notice immediately in the gathering gloom, but as the approach, they find only two wolves waiting for them. Eugene and Mina pace nervously, ears twitching at the smallest sound, heads whipping around to trace the source of it, frantically sniffing the air. A soft whimpering sound drifts from the undergrowth a short way off.
 
Following Calal's lead, Merimar saw Moe laying on his side with a javelin sticking out of his hindquarters.

As Calal pulled the javelin out of Moe, Merimar put her hands over the wound, saying a quick prayer to The Shining One to heal the wound. As Calal relayed what the wolves had told him about six angry people with big teeth one of whom had attacked Moe, Merimar massaged Moe, hoping the physical contact would help the wolf feel better.

"I think we should give them the pig now, they've earnt it from not abandoning us considering they were attacked and could've chosen to run off. I'll nip back and buy another if you want to do more training." Merimar offered, figuring she could use the opportunity to ask the butcher if they knew anyone who matched the wolves' description.

Walking back into Phandelin, Merimar went into the butchers and waited her turn to reach the counter. "Excuse me," Merimar said as she pulled another three gold from her pocket, "I'd like to buy another pig and could you tell me if there's been anyone in town with big teeth who're angry and ill-tempered please?"
 
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