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Party 11

Nephyriun

Void Flopsie
Supporter
Chapter 1: Into the Mists

The sun rises on the Sword Coast much like any other day -- slow and steady, yet with a bright blaze that brought life to this side of Faerun. True to its name, the month of Kythorn (also referred to as "The Time of Flowers") saw this morning the blooming of many flowers along the sides of the roads, having drunk deeply of the rains from the past tenday or so.

The morning stirs into life, as our adventurers begin to rouse themselves from their dreams and slumber of the night before...

Boros:

Regardless of his previous antics Boros was finally a free man once more, free to adventure as he pleased -- once he found adventure, of course. The first few weeks after his release he'd stayed in Baldur's Gate and worked manual labor here and there, until he had earned enough gold to buy himself some new weapons and adventuring gear (since the prison had left him nothing but the clothes on his back). Eventually, after being properly equipped with the finest gear a real adventurer could buy (at least, he thought so) he set off, searching for that glorious adventure he was sure he could find somewhere in the Sword Coast.

Adventuring was a hard time getting started, but this will be the big break, surely! At least, probably. Upon first arriving Daggerford didn't really look like that big important adventuring town it sounded like it'd be (it had *daggers* in the name, it had to be cool); he could just keep walking, but the next biggest city was a decent ways to the north -- that Waterdeep place was where all the other travelers on the road seemed to be heading towards, it seemed. But there was probably adventure here too, right? Boros figured he could probably try to figure that out in the morning, when people were awake and stuff.

With a cock-a-doodle-doo of some distant rooster and the smell of fried breakfast foods in the air he was up, ready to find adventure -- or at least have adventure have him.

Maris:

Another day, another glorious town to spread love and happiness and protection to under the mighty Helm! At least, that's what Maris heard along the grapevine from her other contacts that she had ran into back in Waterdeep. She had learned, among other things, that the smaller settlement at the edge of the Sword Coast held four main temples -- those of Chauntea, Lathander, Tempus, and Tymora -- and was led by a young Duchess Morwen Daggerford, a practical ruler and also an active member of the Lord's Alliance. In other words, plenty of ripe opportunities for those seeking to extend their hand in service and aid. And what a coincidence~~!

Whether the cleric had come in by land or by sea-into-river there were a few places open to her when she arrived in the evening, should she have taken a moment to browse. Along with the temples who always seemed to take in acolytes on pilgrimages (such as herself) or the lesser fortunate for a cheaper price, there were a number of taverns hosting the many travellers seeking to enter -- or leave -- the sprawling city of Waterdeep just to the north. Having chose her sleeping quarters for the night she had a wonderful rest (assuming it was not on the streets somewhere) and woke up to a pleasant day of the sun shining and the birds chirping.

Today would be a truly interesting day, something told her deep down inside. Was that true? Only one way to find out.

Garosh:

Garosh arrived late last night, careful not to bring too much attention to himself as he wandered through the dark cobblestone streets and eventually ended up at the Happy Jackal Tavern -- seemingly the most welcoming (and the least questioning) of outsiders. As you asked for food the bartender, half-awake and nearly ready to clock out for the night, shook their head and said they weren't serving food until the morning. So you bought a room with the money provided to you and bided your time until the break of dawn, when you could experience truly glorious spicy food.

Oh, and do the thing that he was sent to do probably. The ones that usually debriefed him, Elmyra Gossamerheart and Ariawyn Crystalrose, at least half-tried to make it a bit more clear than the usual briefings this time: through their divination magic they had foreseen that 'something ugly was stirring up trouble near Daggerford', and sent the dragonborn to go deal with it by whatever means necessary. While they did not necessarily need the good reputation, thanks to their other public-facing services and charities, keeping the monk constantly at work meant that he was not spending time in their temple, and that was more than enough reason to do it.

Regardless of the reason, he was here now, and the joys of the world beyond what those fancy priestesses proclaimed were now open to him.

Dmitri:

It's been about two months since Dmitri began his employment with Dr. Griswolde, and though it was difficult to tell just what kind of doctor he was (or even if he was a doctor at all), his occupation seemed to pay well -- if the carriage they had ridden out of Waterdeep had anything to say about that. They had left promptly after that fateful night, traveling upwards to Neverwinter where the half-elf could settle into his semblance of a new life.

For a time it was calm, Griswolde teaching his new protégé to hone his new parlor tricks and other abilities as they manifested from the terms of their 'agreement'. Other days he would disappear without notice, leaving Dmitri to do as he pleased while he 'attended to matters'. Eventually though the Jewel of the North grew tiring, and they were on the move once more -- this time, according to Griswolde, seeking audience in Daggerford for some 'business'. They had set out before dawn, paid the driver extra to skirt around Waterdeep, and a few hours later the smaller keep was finally starting to come into view.

"Oh look," Griswolde says with a smirk, rapping his fingers along the edge of the carriage window as he craned his neck outside. The morning light glints off the snow-white sheen of his cataracts as he seems to be looking in the direction of a wagon camp parked alongside the Delimbiyr River, on the opposite side of the walls of Daggerford.
"How interesting, I wonder what they're doing out there?"


 
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DevilishEgg

Member
Getting in late hadn't stopped Gerosh Allin from getting up at dawn. Still feeling slightly groggy, the black dragonborn sat crosslegged at the foot of the bed and started his daily rituals. He closed his eye and mediated on his new surroundings taking in all its unfamiliar sensations. His stomach grumbled at the smell and sound of sizzling wafting from downstairs, but he patiently worked on wrapping his wrists and feet instead. After making sure the dark wrappings were taut but flexible, he carefully started his stretches, every rhythmic move in tandem with his breaths.

He cracked a happy smile when he was done and, throwing up his dark hood to cover up his scarred face, finally set off for breakfast excited to try out whatever strange fare these foreigners ate. His enthusiasm was tampered slightly when he saw that the other patrons were only eating basic eggs and bacon but he persisted nonetheless and with a shiny gleam in his left eye headed to the barkeep and asked in a low, gruff voice, “Spicy food for coin, yes?”
 
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SilentTears

Dmitri is too edgy for his shirt
Dmitri glanced up at his employer from the platinum piece he cupped in both hands, eyes wandering back down to the tiny object. It wasn't quite right yet. The shadows hit just off of where they're supposed to; the tiny etchings in the coin not as sharp as they should be. He let go of the illusion and again took a good look at the man who saved his life. He knew that the doctor knew he was looking at him, even though there was no possible way he could have known, as he was turned away and looking through a screen of cataracts. Over the course of the two months he had known Dr. Marcellus Griswolde, however, he had learned that the man didn't quite need to see to know what was happening around him. The man was amazing; full of surprises. It seemed like he showed Dmitri some other new thing every time they were together, all while keeping things about himself hidden. Marcellus, for his part, did not acknowledge Dmitri's stare and continued watching the caravan of wagons strewn along the riverbank as their carriage slowly moved past.

Dmitri, for the thousandth time, gave up on attempting to ascertain something new from simply looking and followed the man's stare to the caravan outside. The morning sun was already heating up the air moving through the carriage but Dmitri didn't mind. Carriage rides were somewhat of a new thing for him, and from the look of the other vehicles on the road leading to Daggerford, Dr. Griswolde's was one of the smoothest money could buy. The ride certainly beat walking or even horseback for that matter.

Finally, Dmitri spoke up. "Yes, I wonder..." He trailed off noncommittally, his voice deep but clear. Many said he spoke with his father's voice, only without the gravel. He didn't have the decades of voice-corrupting smoke affecting the sound of his voice like his father did - he'd only been smoking a few years. Not caring much for the wagons and their owners, he attempted to change the subject. "Marcellus..." He paused, not as much out of fear as... well, when the doctor said they were doing something or going somewhere, they did it or went; arguing was not only futile, it was... nigh distressing. He didn't feel comfortable challenging the man yet, but, too curious to hold back his question, he continued. "You'd mentioned you had business in Daggerford. There really isn't that much here, though. Why here? What kind of business is it?"
 
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sonojax

Boros has committed a critical dumb
Boros had also stayed in the Happy Jackal Tavern. A massive half-orc doesn't fit in in many places, and besides, Jackals are doggies right? And Boros is fond of doggies. At least the nice ones, not the feral ones that gang up on you and steal your food. In any case, the night was uneventful, except for when the bed gave out somewhere after midnight.

As the rooster crowed and the smell of breakfast foods wafted through the Tavern, Boros climbed out of the remains of his bed. He put on his mail (after all, if he was going to try and be an adventurer he should look the part) and strapped his weapons to his back. He walked downstairs to the tavern proper and wondered what to do next. Hmm, how does Boros become an adventurer? Does Boros just ask people?

Looking around, there was no one who fit Allen's description of an adventurer. Heavily armed, or dangerous-looking veterans of battle were nowhere to be found. Then, a man in dark clothes walked down the stairs and started conversing with the barkeep. He was wearing a hood and had his hands wrapped in pugilist's cloth. Looks dangerous. Perfect. Boros walked up behind the man, tapped him on the shoulder with a massive hand, and at a volume much too loud for the space asks:

"HELLO PUNCH MAN. ARE YOU AN ADVENTURER?"
 
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DevilishEgg

Member
Gerosh jumped backwards out of the way of this giant's hand while quickly tugging down his hood lower, "Who are you?" He asks harshly, "What do want from me?"

They had taught him to watch every shadow and to trust no one. They had taught him that the world was dangerous place where death lurked behind every corner. They had taught him to always STAY VIGILANT!

He was not going to go down without a fight. By the Gods, he was going to make Her proud. "I warn you, I am no easy target! I can kill a man with just a single punch!" He threatened this behemoth while taking a defensive stance, ready to pounce and immediately run out the door as fast as possible.
 

Squiddly

People keep telling me I'm an adult??
Traveling was one of Maris’ least favorite parts of her job—her role, she should say—as a cleric of Helm. When she stood in front of a crowd and proclaimed the unfailing name of Helm and the work, he did to protect those that pledged to his name and believed in his power, she felt alive. There was not a single moment in her life that felt more real and honest than that. But traveling between locations? That was the part she loathed. It was tedious, even if the cart she had chartered to take her to Daggerford had been as comfortable as one may expect.

Rather than take up residence at one of the local temples, though it was tempting, she opted for one of the inns. It was easier that way, to get to know the local flavor a little better. Get acquainted with the locals and see what it was that made them tick; each town was different, after all, and the ways that Helm was there to provide for them could easily change to suit the needs of the individuals who lived there. The Happy Jackal, she believed it was called; though less attention had been given to the name of the inn and more to the people within. Friendly, welcoming, and willing to listen.

The fatigue of the travel had her retiring early and rousing from her sleep when the sun streamed in through her window. It didn’t take her long to make it down to the main area of the inn, and there is a quick glance cast around the room. It seemed as those two individuals were having an altercation near the bar. A bit early for a fight, was it not? Had they already been drinking? Or, perhaps, they were still on their bender from the evening before. Gods, this town surely needed the help of Helm, in his ever faithful, ever present willingness to keep an eye on those that may need his protection.

Even as she thought it, it brought a slight smirk to her lips and she turned away from the two that were about to potentially share blows and headed for the front door. She thought a look about would be a good place to start, and when the bar area seemed less charged, she could return for something to eat. Stepping out into the sun, she smiles a little more genuinely and glances around, unsure exactly of what she’s looking for but ready for anything interesting the town might have to offer.
 

Nephyriun

Void Flopsie
Supporter
Happy Jackal Tavern:

At Boros's sudden shout a small yelp can be heard from beneath the counter, combined with the muffled sound of a few glasses falling over. "Oh gods darn it, not again," mutters the young halfling tending the bar this morning, wiping his hands off on his dusty apron and kneeling down where the yelp was. When he stands back up there's a young Rottweiler puppy cradled in his arms, timid at the sight of the two imposing adventurers seated at the bar but otherwise too drowsy to make a fuss. "Scout, this is why we don't sleep in the drawers yeah? That's why you and the rest have your little thing out back, to run around n' stuff."

Rubbing the puppy's stomach until it began to doze off once more, he looks back up to Garosh with a slight frown. "Sorry 'bout that. Anyway as I was about to say," he starts, glancing down every so often to make sure the critter wasn't up to anything, "We're unfortunately outta stock at the moment. The folks over at Lady Luck bought out our supply for their monthly Pickled Pepper Pecking Contest, and it's kinda just me holding the fort down so I haven't been able to check the markets and see if any traders came in. If y'all're looking to bring on the spice that's probably your best bet though, hopefully they still got a spot open."

Meanwhile most of the patrons, the majority of which seem to be simple farmers and townsfolk, slowly shy away from the ruckus at the bar in favor of staring into their "basic" bacon and eggs breakfast. Perhaps it wasn't that clear when either Boros or Garosh had come in late last night, but perhaps this wasn't the rough-and-tumble adventurer's tavern they had hoped it would be.

"By the by..." goes the tavern keeper, starting to wipe down a mug with one hand while still holding the puppy in the other. "Someone told me that they heard a big crash in one o' the rooms last night, like a bed breaking. I don't suppose either of y'all know anything about that, yeah?"
 

Nephyriun

Void Flopsie
Supporter
Daggerford, Field's Lane:

Sat near the northern gate out of Daggerford, the Happy Jackal Tavern sits on the edge of well-traveled dirt paths, oft cleaned and cleaned again as foot traffic came and went from Waterdeep. Opposing the tavern on the other side of Field's Lane stood a three-story building surrounded by plants and floral decorations, the freshly painted sign proclaiming "Helmick's Herbs and Oddments". Futher down that way a large, expansive meeting hall cut the path into two; though the right side clearly led into the beginnings of the Daggerford Caravan quarter and marketplace, the left was just slightly out of view but seemed to lead into an open courtyard of sorts.

Maris heads out of the tavern to a bright day, only the tiniest wisps of clouds at the edge of the horizon (though the wind keeps them moving quickly. As she looks around she notices a fair amount of foot traffic heading in and out of the gate, mostly toward the marketplace with a few travelers popping into the apothecary next door. At the other end of the road a single figure breaks out of the flow of traffic and heads to the left, made all the more obvious by their prominent stature and gleaming plate mail armor; they seem to walk at a brisk yet refined pace, just short of running.
 

sonojax

Boros has committed a critical dumb
When Gerosh spins around and gets ready to fight, Boros starts backward, surprised. In the process, he scoots a table back about a foot or so, shaking the contents of every plate onto the table or floor. He puts his hands in the air and says at a more normal volume "No, punch man, Boros does not want to fight. Boros wants to get good work as adventurer. You have wraps on hands; ready to fight. You are adventurer..." There's a pause for a second as Boros's mind calms down from all the talking, and he processes the rest of what Garrosh had said. "Boros not die from one punch." He says, with a proud expression on his face.

As he starts to calm down a bit, Boros notices the barkeep and the doggie he was holding (the man's previous comments about the bed went in one ear and out the other; Boros has nearly forgotten about it already). He walks past Gerosh to the bar. In a whisper that is basically normal talking volume, he says "Ooh, can I pet sleepy doggie?"
 

Nephyriun

Void Flopsie
Supporter
Delimbiyr River:

"There's always business, if you know where to find it,"
Marcellus replies coolly with a slight smirk, the same way he almost always seemed to. When Dmitri gives up on his conjured illusion his waves a hand dismissively. "There's more to an illusion than mere tricks of the light, lad. So many things you don't consciously notice -- the feel of the ridges in your palms, the faint smell of metal wafting through the air, the taste of iron on your tongue -- that contribute to how you imagine that coin. If your eyes don't work..." he says, holding out his palm face up, "... there are ways around that."

He seems to wait for a minute or so, as if searching for something in the scenery beyond, before muttering a quick incantation under his breath. In a similar fashion to Dmitri's spell an object begins to shimmer into existence in his palm, a card of some sort though it is longer and of sturdier stock than a regular playing card. "Fortune telling? How peculiar, I hope this means well for that person." Slowly but surely the design on the front of the card fades into existence, depicting a exotic free-spirited woman dancing around a smoking pot in some sort of ritual.


Screenshot 2019-08-03 at 10.48.27.png

"Soothsayers see in their own way, as do we all. But we must still be wary of our blind spots." He tilts the card around to show a completely blank and dimensionless backside before he flicks his wrist and the illusion is gone. "Anyway, back to business. It has come to my attention that something is stirring up trouble around these parts, and I think a small excursion would be perfect to get you some more... worldly experience, shall we call it."

Turning away his gaze from the window he reaches down into his pack and pulls out a small drawstring satchel, offering it to Dmitri. "You will need time to develop the more 'permanent' skills I've granted you but in the meantime I may as well loan you a few trinkets. It will help you get used to the feel of magic, and perhaps will come in handy at some point." Should Dmitri open it he would find inside a silver monocle on a thin chain and a small black ear cuff shaped like a raven's feather. "You should be able to use them as you see fit, as long as you are connected to me. I have doubts that you will abuse them but if you manage to somehow, I'll probably just be impressed," he says with a wry grin.
 
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DevilishEgg

Member
Gerosh sheepishly relaxed his stance realizing he might have overreacted a tad. He was about to apologize when he was distracted by the sight of the puppy. His heart swelled in size as he took a few deft steps to the bar to look at the creature. "May I?" he echoed Boros as he extended a gentle hand towards the snoozing ball of fluff. He had always dreamed of petting one but the temple had always admonished frivolous thoughts for people like him.

"You say there is more of them?" He exclaimed in a breathless whisper and looked up to this Boros, "There is more of them..."
 
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Squiddly

People keep telling me I'm an adult??
Curiosity, for all of her well curated personality points, still gnawed at the mind of the cleric more than she would admit. Watching the people move to and fro in the town was enough to drawn attention, but it didn't hold it for long when she saw a man break away from the crowd and move with some semblance of true determination. An eyebrow quirked just slightly before it was replaced by a pleasant expression of benign indifference. He seemed the kind of man that would be interested in the great lord Helm; after all, the god protected many who pledged their lives to the sword. Whether that was in pursuit of protection of others, or simply a personal cause, Helm welcomed all who sought him. Or, those who hadn't yet heard of him. That's where she came in.

And so, in order to seek out a bit more information on whether or not the man would be interested in hearing, and not in the slightest bit to appease her own curiosity, she steps away from the Happy Jackal and whatever skirmish was about to happen inside and made her way rather nonchalantly down the street in the direction the man had been going. With a fair amount of distance between her and the man, she made no overt attempt to get much closer; it would be better to simply observe for a moment or two before rashly taking a step into a situation she hadn't fully gleaned information from. Nonetheless, she splits her attention between the various houses and building fronts she passes, her gaze always slowly trailing back to the quick walking gentleman in front of her.
 

SilentTears

Dmitri is too edgy for his shirt
Dmitri’s attention was momentarily captured by the particularly large cataract in the doctor’s left eye. He wondered if he would get such barriers to his vision when he got older. Dr. Griswolde’s words kept him focused however, as did the illusion he conjured. Though because of the accompanying offhanded comment about “that person”, he had a gut feeling that the card was no mere illusion. The man spoke of soothsayers as if he wasn’t one himself, but Dmitri would sooner believe news that a bugbear has risen to the throne than the notion that something like telling the future was beyond the power of the inexorable Dr. Marcellus Griswolde.

He listened to the man in silence, attempting to soak in every detail of how he moved, how he talked, why he talked. He'd learned the hard way that missing crucial information from anyone powerful or worthy of interest could spell disaster down the line. When father gave an order, it was done. The first time. If he had to repeat it, the person that asked might not have all ten fingers next time they came back. It was a different story with Dr. Griswolde. Dmitri didn't fear death or dismemberment from the source of his education. It was okay to ask questions, but wasting a teacher's time by making them repeat themselves? That was a crime unforgivable, not only against the teacher but for the student, him or herself. He knew that great teachers and opportunities only came every so often, and you had to strike when the iron was hot, shoot while the buck still grazed, make hay while the sun shone.

He reached out to receive the small pouch offered to him, letting it rest in his lap. "An excursion..." He paused and looked out the window again. "That sounds beneficial. I'm certainly looking forward to testing some of the more... potent skills you've taught me." His face was alert and alive, energetic, and mostly controlled. He opened the pouch and inspected the two items, first putting the monocle to his left eye, and inspecting the interior of the carriage. "What sort of magic do these hold?" He put down the monocle and added the ear cuff to the healthy assortment of jewelry already on his right ear. "And I don't suppose you happen to have a mirror with you, do you?" He grinned easily, assessing his employer's mood. He was never quite sure how much joking was appropriate with the man, but a lighthearted rhetorical question every once in a while couldn't hurt too much.

As the carriage neared the town gates, he leaned out the window to take a gander at the nearest buildings. "I've arranged for us to stay at the Happy Jackal Tavern while we're here. Some locals a few towns over recommended the ale."
 
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Nephyriun

Void Flopsie
Supporter
Happy Jackal Tavern:

As Boros approaches and "whispers" to the bartender the puppy suddenly wakes up again, startled by the sound. It glances at the large barbarian for a moment before whining, curling up deeper inside the halfling's arms. "Shhh, there there," says the bartender as he sets down the glass he was cleaning to hold the puppy in both arms, rocking it back and forth. "You're gonna have to learn how to be more subtle than that, friend," he replies to the barbarian, much quieter. "Scout here doesn't have a good track record with strangers, that's why we keep 'em out of the main room."

Looking back over to Gerosh who actually seemed to understand what a whisper was, he nods and slowly holds it out in the dragonborn's direction. To his relief his touch doesn't seem to disturb the sleeping pup this time, and he sighs happily while watching for a few seconds. "Hey, not bad there. If you like you can watch over him for a few minutes while I finish cleaning up here," he notes, picking up his dishrag again and starting to clean. "And yeah, there's more -- Momma had a litter of four a month or so ago. Scout and Duffie stayed here, Hutch got sold to a fellow in Waterdeep, and Arko went to a friend who works near the docks."

He looks up at the two large fighters and scratches his head, chuckling a little. "Y'know, pardon if this is forward of me, but I wouldn't have pinned either of ya as the type to dote over a small puppy. Are y'all adventurers?"
 
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Nephyriun

Void Flopsie
Supporter
Daggerford, Farmer's Road:

Slowly weaving her way through the crowd, Maris takes a left at the entrance of the Guildmaster's Hall -- which, upon passing by, she'd notice that there seems to be quite a bit of traffic heading in and out of the grand meeting place. Nevertheless she has her eyes set on her target, and upon heading left towards Farmer's Road she notices that the streets are much quieter this way, a decent distance away from the inns and shops of the Caravan Quarter.

Though she can't get a good view of the mysterious plate mail stranger aside from his back, it's clear that he stands upright with a dignified stature, his wavy black hair rustling softly in the breeze that flowed through the residential streets this way. Moving with a purpose he continues forth towards the open courtyard, whose cultivated agriculture (mostly flowers and flowering bushes) to lead into a humble temple of sorts. Displayed prominently in front of the open doorways to the temple proper is a soft, woven banner with an embroidered design of a rose, surrounded by a bundle of grain.

He stops at the threshold of the temple to bow his head slightly in prayer, before standing upright once more and entering. He seems to raise his hand up, as if hailing someone further inside.
 

Nephyriun

Void Flopsie
Supporter
Delimbiyr River:

Griswolde nods at Dmitri as if in approval, idly cracking his knuckles beneath his leather gloves. "If you do well, I'm sure it will be beneficial for the locals here as well. Despite their proximity to Waterdeep they are often woefully in need of protection against things that a wall alone won't stop. They are at least fortunate in the fact that the shaky alliance the nobles managed to piece together keeps them from tearing at each other's throats. Openly, at least."

Turning his gaze back once more to the window, he listens as Dmitri starts to try on the trinkets. "If you focus on the monocle and recite the inscription on the side, it should display for you the magical aura of things nearby, given that the enchanter hadn't taken proper measures to mask it. A useful thing, though I have no need for such things anymore," he notes with a joking smile, watching the scenery move as the carriage began to cross the stone bridge across the Delimbiyr River. "The cuff is a simpler thing, it allows for basic communication with animals. It may not be that flashy but you would be surprised what a skittering rat would know, or a flighty bird."

He rests an elbow idly on the edge of the window, seemingly comforted by the soft breeze flowing through the carriage. In a few more minutes they'd be at the gates of Daggerford proper. "Ale? Well I won't stop you if that's your poison of choice, though I can't say I ever had the stomach for it. If you could put a quick trip through the marketplace on our itinerary, I do think it'd be worth a moment to pick up a proper bottle of wine if they have it."
 
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sonojax

Boros has committed a critical dumb
In a volume that finally approaches an actual whisper Boros says to the barkeep: "Boros will be adventurer soon. Everyone loves doggies, even, 'dangerous-looking veterans of battle.'" As Boros says the last part, he does a strange voice. It's higher pitched and a little reedy, and it's clear that Boros is imitating someone he heard say this.

He stands at the bar for a bit, awkwardly folding his large hands together, shifting from foot to foot. Maybe I will get to pet doggie later. He turns to Gerosh and Scout. "People in prison use pain flavor to make food good. Boros knows some, if punch-man want company. Boros no eat yet."
 

SilentTears

Dmitri is too edgy for his shirt
"Consider it done." He decided not to comment on his choice of alcohol. Enough of anything could get him drunk enough to, for a time, forget the things he wanted to forget. Dmitri flashed his easy smile again, and leaned out the window once more. "Ragnir! A stop in the market before we get the the Happy Jackal, man." The two passengers hear a sharp "Aye, sir!" from the surprisingly clean-cut dwarven carriage master. It was rare to see a dwarf with a short beard, no matter his position or career choice. "Thank you, kindly," Dmitri calls back. There's a still moment where just the breeze and the sound of the passing townsfolk greeting each other in the bright coastal morning wafted in through the carriage window. The smell of the sea was no more potent here than in Waterdeep, but the air here was fresher, not tainted by or competing with the sounds and smells of the busiest port city on the Sword Coast.

Dmitri decided to give the monocle and ear-cuff a try some other time. He was still in the presence of his benefactor, after all. No need to seem childish and rush to play with the new toys --ah-- tools, the doctor had given him. He put the monocle in it's new home: a tiny pocket hidden underneath his shirt collar. This was a gift he did not want to lose track of. "Thank you, Doctor. I'll find ways to use both of them, I'm certain." He joined in with the man's enjoyment of the sea breeze and allowed himself a few deep breaths of the salty air as the carriage rolled ever closer to the gates of Daggerford.
 

DevilishEgg

Member
'Bless the finest Lady!' Gerosh thought as he grinned widely underneath his hood. A black scaled claw gently rubbed the puppy's snoozing chin, "I will keep a close eye on Mister Scout here while attend to your business." He said waving the bartender away then silently laughed as he realized his dump joke a few moments later.

"Come here..." he waved the giant, Boros, over and motioned for his hand, "Little animals are very weak. You, on the other hand, are very strong so you if want to play with Scout, you have to be gentle, alright?" Taking the half-orc's hand, if offered, Gerosh carefully pets the puppy's head with Boros's hands trying to teach him how to play nice with someone a fraction of his size.
 

Nephyriun

Void Flopsie
Supporter
Happy Jackal Tavern:

The halfling bartender can't help but grin as the two large adventurers dote over the small puppy, slowly drifting into consciousness and dozing off again. "I gotta say, I'm impressed -- you're probably the first person aside from me and his momma that he's taken a liking to. He tends to run off from everyone else we've tried to give him to and find himself in some weird hiding place, that's why we call him Scout. Maybe he realizes that big strong adventurers can protect him from all the bad stuff going on," he says with a laugh, setting aside a wiped glass before picking up another one.

After a moment his smile falters slightly and he gives a slight sigh. "Y'know, I've been kinda worried about letting him wander around outside like he really wants to, these days. Don't know if you're aware but there's been a few disappearances off the streets lately, during the night. Some people're blaming witches and I heard the Lord's Alliance was goin' around recruiting for a werewolf hunt, of all things. My grandpappy and I came here to settle down out of the city but it seems there's trouble everywhere ya go now," he sighs, before shaking his head and starting to stack up clean cups and plate. "Sorry 'bout that strangers, didn't mean to unload my worries on ya. Haven't even busted out the ale yet."
 

Nephyriun

Void Flopsie
Supporter
Daggerford Market:

"You're clever, I have no doubt that you will find use in them,"
says Griswolde, as he looks back through the window once more, this time to feel the slight breeze on his face as they passed through the walls of Daggerford proper. Ragnir shouts a greeting at the two guards manning the gates, who wave the carriage through without much fuss.

They come to a stop just inside the walls, where the Caravan quarter began, and the dwarven carriage driver hops off his seat and opens the door for the two passengers inside. "Lemme know when yer ready to head over, I ought to buy some feed for the horses while we're stopped here. They've earned a treat I'd say for wakin' up so early."

Griswolde in reply smiles and waves a hand dismissively in the direction of the open door. "No need for that, I could use the fresh air and a leisurely stroll to work out these old bones. Thank you for the ride, it was much appreciated." He starts to reach down and feel for his messenger bag, fumbling a bit before he grips onto the familiar leather strap and pulling it towards himself.

"I think a tip is in order, to pay for those treats," he says with a smile, holding the bag out in the middle of the carriage to no one in particular. "Dmitri, if you could count out an extra twenty gold pieces for this fine man." As usual when they were out in the open Griswolde's knowing gaze now stared blankly at the corner of the vehicle, as if he were nothing more than an eccentric blind man with money to throw around and an assistant at his beck and call.
 

sonojax

Boros has committed a critical dumb
Boros is mesmerized by the puppy, and he doesn't really hear the bartender speaking. All of his attention is on trying to be as gentle as possible. As Gerosh pets Scout with Boros's hand, Boros has a kind of idiot smile on his face. "Boros is happy..." he mumbles to himself.

As the bartender picks up again, and begins speaking about the disappearances in town, Boros gingerly stops petting Scout, and lets Gerosh take over again. He unconsciously cradles the hand that was just petting the puppy, and turns to pay attention to the Bartender. "This makes Boros worried too. Maybe Boros can find some way to help." He stops talking for a second, tracks invisible thoughts with his eyes for a second. 'How can Boros help...' A second beat passes, and then his train of thought reaches the end of the line. "Puppy man said that there was Werewolf Hunt? Where does Boros go for that?"
 

DevilishEgg

Member
Gerosh's ear twitched underneath the hood as he heard the mention of trouble in Daggerford. 'That was quick...' He hadn't expected his assignment to find him so soon. He hadn't even had to check out this spice competition, he thought with slumped shoulders which he quickly straightened out. He knew he didn't have time for life's frivolities. His mission was simple and he wasn't about to stray from it from day one.

All the same, his decided a few more belly rubs couldn't hurt and fawned over Scout for a bit before sadly handing him back over to the halfling, already filled with regret. He eyed the half-orc from underneath his hood then nodded ignoring the repeated mentions of 'adventurers' and asked, "Are these werewolves linked to the disappearances? Who is recruiting and where?"

He looked longingly at the puppy and ventured hopefully, "Will Scout be here by the end of the day or does he have a new home?"
 

SilentTears

Dmitri is too edgy for his shirt
As Dmitri took the satchel from his employer, he smirked and side-eyed the carriage master to see if there was any reaction. The doctor's generosity never ceased to amaze him. Not only was time a free gift from the man, money was as well. But Dmitri knew that everything came with a price. Nothing every was completely free. Everyone paid up sooner or later. He knew his time would come eventually, and he hoped the dwarf wouldn't get the raw end of some deal later on because of this. Lady luck sure worked in mysterious ways.

As Dmitri counted out the coin for their driver, the latter unloaded their luggage, which only consisted of two packs. "There you go..." Dmitri held out a small pouch with the prescribed amount, and as Ragnir took it, Dmitri clapped him on the shoulder. "Thanks for everything, Ragnir. You've been a great help to us." The stocky dwarf offered his thanks to the both of them and drove the gold-trimmed carriage toward the other end of the cobbled quarter, where a few other horses and carriages were parked. Dmitri shouldered the two packs, slung the satchel over Dr. Griswolde's shoulder and offered his arm to the same. As they walked toward a promising-looking stall sporting a few casks of ale and wine, a few pigeons hopped out of their way as they squabbled over a scrap of bread, and a few locals drifted about, doing their daily shopping.

A small halfling girl with frizzy black hair, no more than ten or eleven years of age sat on an elderly woman's lap behind the stall. "Good morning, little one." Dmitri stooped down a little and flashed her a winsome smile. "Do you think you could help me find a bottle of nice wine for my friend here?" He looked over at who he assumed to be the girl grandmother and transferred the smile to her as well. "G'day ma'am." He turned his attention back to the little girl, making it clear he was taking her seriously as a seller.
 
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Nephyriun

Void Flopsie
Supporter
Happy Jackal Tavern:

"I couldn't tell ya if there were actual werewolves runnin' about, I ain't exactly strolling through the forest these days," the halfling bartender says with a slight frown and shrugging. "But that's what the Lord's Alliance and a buncha other organizations're getting worked up about, at least. Last I heard some feller representing the Alliance was standin' up on a podium at the Guildmaster's Hall just down the street, try'na find people to take up arms. I'm sure he'd love two big and strong fighters like yerself," he notes, ending his sentence with a slight smile before looking down at Scout.

"Well I mean... if he had a new home he'd be there already, we're not exactly pet shelter. I'd wager to say it's more work keeping these two pups in order than the rest of the tavern," he adds with a laugh. After a moment he looks up to the dragonborn curiously, noting the look of longing in his eyes. "Hey... I don't suppose you're interested are ya? He does seem to have taken a liking already."
 

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