Tales of Ikhorus

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Otis enjoys his drink while Garret tells him the story. "Yeah, I was here when Neredan was last seen, already told the guards about it. We were here drinking that day, not something I do very often as I prefer the sweetness of a real Ale," he says that last part louder while looking back to the woman behind the bar. "He saw his niece running around and went after her. The last anyone saw of him."
 
His brow furrowed, "see I talked to his niece. She said she was working at the time... Did you happen to see her? Which way did he run off in? Garrets expression is intense, and he leans forward intently.
 
Barost raised an eyebrow at the back and forth about the Ale, "Eh? Gettin' some mixed messages here, but gotta admit, more someone tells me not to do somethin', more I want to do it. And right now you've got me curious about the ale. How much for a mug?"

He nodded towards Garret, "Anyone remember where he was when he 'saw' her? Or which way he'd gone?"
 
The barmaid pours a mug of Ale and slides it to you. "It'll be 2 copper, lad, can't say ya weren't warned. I didn't see much that day, was very busy serving the crowd."

Otis scratches his chin, while thinking. "Well, we were standing over there, so he might've run that way," He points to a narrow street behind the bar. "There's not much that way, just a small warehouse and a pier used for repairs." While he points back that way, he sees the other half elf ordering ale and grins.
 
Kaesalor finally mustered the courage to enter this building. He hunches down considerably to fit in through the doorframe and enters. "G-g-good evening." He says as he looks around rather awkwardly. Lacking a better idea, he just heads to the counter and leans against it next to Barost. "Uhm... s-something strong p-p-please, it helps with the s-st-stu-stuttering."
 
Smirking as they made change, Barost took a swig of the ale, setting it down he tried to cover the cough as the taste hit him but didn't manage it well. "Why --" he cleared his throat, "... why is that even on offer?" The half-elf frowned into the mug as it slowly solidified into ice before looking back up at the barmaid, still somewhat wincing from the taste of the drink. Hearing the firbolg he shook his head, "Go for the rum, friend -- apparently ale here is only a drink in name."

Turning to look the direction Otis had pointed out, "Anyone own the warehouse down that way? Or any layabouts that like to roost there? There's always some, even if people don't wanna acknowledge 'em."
 
The bartender laughs when Barost can't get the drink down. "Still tryin' to get rid of the barrels. Some folk don't mind the taste as much and end up downin' it. Can't say I haven't warned ya." She pours a mug of rum and slides it to the firbolg. "I'd take your friend's advice, big guy. 1 copper for that one."

Otis turns to Barost. "The crown does, just like the rest of the docks. Not many go over there, on caravan days it gets to see more action." He stops and takes a sip of his rum. "Wait, that dragonborn kid stays there sometimes. Maybe he was there that night."
 
You decide to take the narrow street that curves around the bar and, after a few minutes, the winding passageway reaches a small open square no more than 15 feet wide, with a fountain in its center. Other than the many alleys that lead out from this location, there is a small pier that is currently empty except for a single row boat and a long, featureless stone building with big blue letters identifying it as the warehouse.

Barost and Kaeselor, you notice that the warehouse doors close quickly, as soon as you arrive.
 
Mel leans on her cane, looking to the others she whispers. "I suppose you would love to go in there correct? I do not believe that at this time it would be the most strategic. But if you all wish to do so. I will follow."
 
Still coughing slightly from the barely-ale, Barost paused at the sudden closure of the doors. He looked to Mel with a faint smile, "'Love' seems a strong word, if'm honest. Curosity is definitely a driving force, if I must admit." Running a hand through his hair he looked at the others, "I leave it to the lot of ya -- though as far as I'm aware, we're merely concerned folks lookin' to try an' help find the missing fishermen. My only goal," he raised his voice as he spoke, "is to talk to anyone who might know somethin', maybe even offer a helpful fellow a drink at a real bar? Gods know I need somethin' to get the taste of that ale outta my mouth."
 
Hearing no reply from this empty square in the middle of the small buildings, you make your way back to the Glowing Driftwood Inn. The sun has already started to set, the bar growing steadily more crowded as some people were leaving their jobs and decided to stop for some drinks. Behind the bar, you see Abigail, instead of the usual dragonborn that is currently having a conversation with a hooded figure in a side table. Whenever you feel like it, you can make your way upstairs to the bedrooms you paid for yesterday and settle in for the night.
 
Mel sits at a table near the conversation. Placing her cane to the side she waves the others over. She smiles, "This is a nice spot isnt it."
 
You sit at the table nearest to the ones the two men are currently occupying. Without bringing attention to yourselves, you try to listen to their hushed conversation.

Garret, your hearing seems better than that of your companions, and manages to listen to some parts of the conversation:
"Right? This is an order of utmost importance." This was said in a harsh low-pitched voice, which must belong to the hooded man. "We need to get things moving, who knows how much it will last if he keeps screwing up like this." There was no answer, at least none you could hear. After a moment of talking, that you couldn't discern the actual exchange due to the low tones, the familiar voice of Ras can be heard. "No, no, no. I don't want out. I'll make sure it goes as planned. Maybe you'll need someone to get it over at the destination." The hooded man quickly replies. "We'll do what it takes. Now keep them low for a few more days, then..." The rest of the sentence can't be heard clearly.

A few seconds after that last exchange was heard, the man gets up and makes his way out of the Inn. Ras reaches for the electrum piece that was left on the table and the empty mug used by the visitor before going back behind the bar to keep up with the job.
 
"That was interesting." Mel looks over to Garrett. "Did you hear anything they said?" After Garrett explains, she nods. "I see, well i should say that i do need to visit my father. So now bout we all gather there and discuss our plans there?" She waits a second, allowing the others to respond. Preforming a small half-bow she excuses herself. And goes upstairs to sleep.
 
As Garret retells what he managed to overhear, a sense of unease fills him. He had always liked Ras, thought his Inn a bit shabby, but always liked him. He hoped Ras wasn't mixed up in something. He also didn't like shady figures as a rule. Best to talk to him after most people leave...
"I'll talk to him after, this may be something innocent, or against his will."
Seeing Mel rise, "aye, we will meet up again tomorrow."
He found himself lost in thoughts again, why on earth all this trouble in town now? Had it always been here and he just had not noticed?

Absent of mind, his hands had taken to the old rhythm of tuning his lute. As he ran through some scales to warm his fingers to the notion, he turned to Barost "any requests? I know a shanty or two that might be familiar."
 
Resting his head on the table, Barost felt worn out as all the activity of the day seemed to come home to roost. It had been exciting, but tiring as well. He nodded to the others, trying to finish his meal, but perked up at Garret's offer. "Ah ... do you know 'Leave Her Johnny'? Favorite of mine from when I was younger," sitting up slightly he tried to sing a few verses but didn't get far before he stopped. "Eh ... seems that ale did a bit more to me than I thought, huh?"
 
With Garrett's fumbled attempts playing, and Barost's wailing, it is surprising they are not asked to leave. Then again they are in a world of halflings and that wouldn't be hospitable.

As the two continue their merry making, failing to sing anything right, the hour gets late and the new friends eventually head off to bed. With slurred words and obnoxious behavior.
As he crashes into his bed Garret yells out. "Goodnight Barost! Goodnight Mel! Goodnight Kasselolol." He passes out halfway through the last proclamation...
 
"Good night Gallet." Says Kaesalor in his deep voice. He then carefully stands up from the table and leaves for his bed as well. After some failed attempts at falling to sleep, he sets his bedroll down on the ground and sleeps in it instead.
 
After a productive day of many and multiple adventures, you decide to rest for the night in your respective rooms on the second floor of the Glowing Driftwood.

As the sun rises and the morning comes, one by one you make your way downstairs to eat the breakfast that is being served. Everyone appears to be moving on with their lives, despite the odd occurrences of the last few days, the mostly empty bar is cozy and warm as the chill morning air is still blowing through Dewfall. A single bell rings, its loud metallic sound propagating from the main square, reaching every corner of the village. This was not a desperate call to arms as the townsfolk have heard a couple of nights ago, this is but a call for the people to gather at the square, although the precise reason behind this calling is unknown to most. Every single mind on the village comes up with different explanations as to why this is happening in an otherwise calm morning, perhaps it is an announcement, perhaps some important people are passing through town, perhaps it is something worse than that. The few other patrons get up and out of the Inn, a slow pace that represents how they both want to know what is going on, and dread its reveal.

If you follow the others to the center of town, you see a crowd already gathered outside of the Guard Quarters. At the center of it, you see captain Azaso of the Iron Guard holding his helm under his arm looking to the eastern side of the road. Following his eyes, you notice three armored horses pulling an ornate black carriage with two guards in shining plate mail standing by it. However, the captain's gaze is not focused on the opulent means of transportation, or either of the guards, he is looking to a tall goliath, also in full plate armor, that is currently pacing around the captain.

The goliath stops in front of Azaso and looks at him through the visor. "So you are the captain of this city's Iron Guard? You're the one responsible for its protection?" Her voice is harsh and the menacing tone appears to stay in the air even after her words are silent. "Y-yes, sir." The captain manages to respond to the hulking woman that stands over a foot above him. She glares at him for a second longer and then paces around once more. "And yet, I've heard word that you suffered an attack, and even worse people were captured under your watch. You are fully aware that these actions are tainting the image that our great king formed over more than a century?" The loud tone silences everyone around her, and breaking the complete silence the middle-aged man can be heard. "B-but-" She raises her hand and the sentence dies out as if the breath was taken out of his lungs. "I don't want to hear any excuses from you! If word gets out that even a tiny village like this one was attacked, our neighbors might take this as a sign that the King Tiankil's rule is not as strong as it once was!. Enforcer! Do your job!"

As those last words escape from the goliath's mouth, a slithering sound can be heard from the carriage. A menacing figure slides from its roof, their lower body covered in brown scales while the torso resembles the one of a woman, across her back lays a bronze longbow perhaps taller than most halflings standing around the scene. Her head is mostly formed by many smaller snakes hissing and looking around while investigating their surroundings, her face however was covered by a porcelain mask, hiding any and all emotions the creature might be experiencing. You see as she slithers across the main square towards the captain, as well as the expression of complete fear on his face. She stops in front of him, lifting him from the ground with one hand as the other removes the mask - only inches between their faces. The terrified captain looks to his extremities as they start turning into stone. The screaming starts, and a few seconds later, it stops. The enforcer places her mask back on and nods to the goliath, sliding back to her place on top of the carriage, while the lone statue stands where the captain once stood.

The goliath turns to the man that is standing next to the newly created garden statue. "Congratulations, you've been promoted to the new captain. I expect to hear only good things from your career, we'd hate to have to travel all the way back here again." She turns around and mounts on one of the horses, her silent companions doing the same. "Get back to your lives, the show is over!" She screams to the crowd that starts to dissipate and get back to their day-to-day activities.
 
As soon as the display started, Mel immediately placed a hand straight onto Garretts and Barosts shoulders. Her grip strong, but only tightening at any sigh of movement from the two. As soon as she hears over she directs them towards her fathers house. Calling for the firbolg to join them. "I suggest you keep your emotional response to a minumum until we reach the house."
 
Groggy in the morning after the drinks of the night prior, Barost was not keen on the ringing bell, but followed the crowd anyway, unsure of what all was going on. As the display continued, Barost grew more and more tense, fingers sparking by his legs -- almost feeling like his stomach was sick from the scene.

His eyes widened as he saw the creature leave the carriage, his scowl deepening as he heard the man's fading screams, watching as they left the statue of the man like it was nothing of import. Barost was ready to stomp through the crowd only to feel a tight grip on his collar, glancing back to Mel as she dragged them away, gesturing towards the pseudo-stage he hissed under his breath, "To a minimum! That was akin to public execution! How the bloody hell is 'e 'spose to do his job if he's a gods damn statue! I was hoping to speak with 'im more but I guess that ain't happening any time soon!"
 
Kaesalor, just following the crowd around, settles down at the very edge of it. He still sees everything clearly thanks to his height. He has no idea what is going on at first but he soon understands. Even though he wasn't very fond of the captain from what he heard of him, he didn't exactly understand why that was necessary. The idea of execution or imprisonment couldn't have been farther from the views of his society. Still, he doesn't interject. The laws of this land are none of his business.

He sees Mel motioning toward him and nods back to her, following her lead.
 
Mel does her best to guide you to her father's house, somewhere she hasn't been in some time. You walk closer to the edge of the village until a small cottage, with no clear markings other than the letters M, E and S carved on the door. After knocking on the door, you wait for a few seconds before the door is opened by an old man wearing thick golden spectacles, his messy hair was mostly a white with a few remaining dark strands resisting the effects of time.

He stares at the odd group showing at his doorstep before smiling and hugging his daughter. "Mel! I didn't think I'd be seeing you so soon! You just got me here not so long ago with your mother, I told you to not waste all of your time visiting me." When he finally releases her from the hug, he turns around and bolts inside. "Come in! I'm not sure I've met your friends yet, it's rude not to introduce them." A few moments later he is back holding a teapot and a few cups. "Tea, anyone? I made it earlier today, but it must still be as sweet as ever."
 
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