Bildrath's Mercantile:
"So you're off then?" Bildrath shrugs at the group's chitchat, as if they were discussing the weather or something else casual. "Good. Great. I'll pay when I have my stuff back in hand, preferably as untouched as possible. If it's there at all and that bumbling idiot wasn't lying to me," he mumbles under his breath as he shoos everyone out of his store, some vague directions in hand to head 'down the Ivlis river', before shutting the door and calling out to the back. "Boy! Are you done sorting those crates yet?"
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The trek along the worn path out of town is mostly uneventful, as the various townfolk mind their own business as they walk on towards the church, or the tavern, or the meager fields just beyond the line of houses. Their pace is hesitant, wary, as if something could strike out at them at any moment; regardless, a sense of urgency or need to eat pushes them beyond the confines of their rickety wooden homes.
Off to the north a young boy chases a stray dog around, weaving between the various buildings and trampling on weeds as they go. They barely sweep past a rickety cart rumbling on the cobblestone roads of the town, warranting a slight huff and a pout from the old woman driving it onwards. Turning back and seeing that the boy hadn't even stopped to acknowledge his rudeness, she shrugs and moves onto the next house, pulling her cart forth and knocking three times gently on the creaking wooden door. She seems to stand there an awkwardly long amount of time, waiting on a door that doesn't look like it'll open anytime soon, as the group continues onwards towards the east exit out of town.
Some farmers are already hard at work -- toiling away at meager fields that, despite the seeming lack of bright sunlight, seem to at least be sprouting out of the dirt. A few animals are grazing idly on rough patches of grass; they are watched closely to make sure that they do not stray too far from the relative safety of the village.
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You continue down the path out of town and eventually meet the edge of the Ivlis river, right as it begins to swerve into the Svalich woods. Rather than cross the worn stone bridge and continue down the path (as, you assume, is the regular route to and from the village) you instead follow along the riverbank to the northeast, trudging through mud and weeds into the woods proper.
It's surprisingly not a terrible stroll, the path being calm and actually rather conducive to herb gathering and scouting. It almost seems like the terrors of the night before had retreated in the presence of the midday sun behind the clouds. Eventually you come to a small clearing in the woods where the river curves into a larger embankment, around where it would make sense for larger packages to wash ashore. Though there are no signs of larger carts or packaging of the sort, from a distance you do notice that several large dirt mounds peek out of the ground, on your side of the rushing river.
"So you're off then?" Bildrath shrugs at the group's chitchat, as if they were discussing the weather or something else casual. "Good. Great. I'll pay when I have my stuff back in hand, preferably as untouched as possible. If it's there at all and that bumbling idiot wasn't lying to me," he mumbles under his breath as he shoos everyone out of his store, some vague directions in hand to head 'down the Ivlis river', before shutting the door and calling out to the back. "Boy! Are you done sorting those crates yet?"
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The trek along the worn path out of town is mostly uneventful, as the various townfolk mind their own business as they walk on towards the church, or the tavern, or the meager fields just beyond the line of houses. Their pace is hesitant, wary, as if something could strike out at them at any moment; regardless, a sense of urgency or need to eat pushes them beyond the confines of their rickety wooden homes.
Off to the north a young boy chases a stray dog around, weaving between the various buildings and trampling on weeds as they go. They barely sweep past a rickety cart rumbling on the cobblestone roads of the town, warranting a slight huff and a pout from the old woman driving it onwards. Turning back and seeing that the boy hadn't even stopped to acknowledge his rudeness, she shrugs and moves onto the next house, pulling her cart forth and knocking three times gently on the creaking wooden door. She seems to stand there an awkwardly long amount of time, waiting on a door that doesn't look like it'll open anytime soon, as the group continues onwards towards the east exit out of town.
Some farmers are already hard at work -- toiling away at meager fields that, despite the seeming lack of bright sunlight, seem to at least be sprouting out of the dirt. A few animals are grazing idly on rough patches of grass; they are watched closely to make sure that they do not stray too far from the relative safety of the village.
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You continue down the path out of town and eventually meet the edge of the Ivlis river, right as it begins to swerve into the Svalich woods. Rather than cross the worn stone bridge and continue down the path (as, you assume, is the regular route to and from the village) you instead follow along the riverbank to the northeast, trudging through mud and weeds into the woods proper.
It's surprisingly not a terrible stroll, the path being calm and actually rather conducive to herb gathering and scouting. It almost seems like the terrors of the night before had retreated in the presence of the midday sun behind the clouds. Eventually you come to a small clearing in the woods where the river curves into a larger embankment, around where it would make sense for larger packages to wash ashore. Though there are no signs of larger carts or packaging of the sort, from a distance you do notice that several large dirt mounds peek out of the ground, on your side of the rushing river.