First Night in Alinesti
13 Hiddumont 348 AC (1351 DR)
Kysek sends Bubo out to hunt for himself as he knows the owl prefers the freshness of his own catches. He gets himself something to eat while checking in with his familiar frequently. He then settles in to check his gear to ensure he has what he needs ready and accessible.
Knives stretches his legs then says "Ready to go when you are, may as well find out if these goblins have any good treasure. I mean, let us bring justice to these lands."
Arthur takes his time to take stock of what he has and prepares for the task at hand.
Upon seeing the fishing boats tied up at the river docks, Raven smiles and makes his way over to take a look at them, admiring the design of each craft, and noting their general upkeep. He breathes in the scent of the damp air, the wax used to treat the sails, the tar caulking the seams in the wood, the smell of fresh varnish. He closes his eyes and listens to the water flowing by.
"Spend much time afloat, lad?"
Raven opens his eyes and turns toward the voice. He finds himself face-to-face with an old human. Weather-beaten skin and thinning gray hair are offset by eyes that glint with amusement. His yellow shirt is stained with sweat despite the cool autumn air.
The elf nods, "Some."
"Ya have that look." He motions to one of the nearby boats, "Looking ta buy?" The old fisherman pulls a pipe from his pocket and begins packing leaves into it.
"Not today."
"Yer loss." By this point, the man has lit his pipe and begins puffing away, stoking the fire in the bowl.
"I was under the impression that humans aren't allowed in Silvanesti."
The human nods, taking another puff on his pipe. "We're not. But my grandmother was an elf so they be obligated and they hates me fer it."
"That sounds... awkward."
The man lets out a small laugh. "That's a polite way of sayin' '&@%#÷× up'. Name's Whitlock Hartford, captain of the 'Where's My Ship' and Purveyor of Antiquities and Other Hard to Find Goods."
"That last bit sounds like a polite way saying of smuggler," says Raven before introducing himself, shaking hands with the man. "It was pleasant to meet you. I'm afraid I must catch up to my companions."
"If yer gonna be in town fer a bit, there's an inn called the Otter's Bed. I keep a room there while I'm in town. Stop by and trade sea stories and lies if the mood strikes."
"I will. Good afternoon to you, Captain."
Grotto asks others in the party if they would like to join him for a meal and drink in the nearest tavern.
Raven rejoins the group, informing them that the man he spoke with mentioned an inn called the Otter's Bed and recommends going there.
Grotto speaks to the group and invites those around for one last good meal before what is sure to be a goblin slaughter. "Nothing better than a full belly to put a big smile on your face while killing goblins!" Grotto says cheerfully.
Ornforithalas speaks with the proprietor, a white-haired elf dressed in a black jacket and pants named Oloblar Eagerpath, securing lodging for his men as well as the party. His scouts will split two rooms while we will have to double up.
The fare offered includes honeyed berries, baked apples and pears, an assortment of squash, fried crickets, river-caught fish, frogs, rabbits and squirrels, sweet potatoes, onions, turnips, and radishes, mushrooms, and lembas breads. Drinks offered consist of mead spring water and a variety of wines.
Grotto orders food and drink. Before Oloblar can depart, the dwarf asks, "I'm seeking potions of healing. Where can I find some?"
The innkeeper looks at the dwarf in stunned silence for a moment but recovers quickly, "Master Dwarf, such things are incredibly rare these days. Those that still exist are jealousy hoarded in the hands of the wealthy or maybe in the lost storerooms of long abandoned temples. I have never laid eyes upon one myself."
The dwarf shakes his head in frustration, "What about the local shops?"
"Sir, this is a small fishing town. Even before the Cataclysm, such things would have been hard to come by. In the 250 years that have passed, that situation has not improved." Oloblar then turns and departs to place Grotto's order with the kitchen.
Hearing the question, Raven signals to Grotto and the rest of the party. "Grotto presents an interesting point. If our clerics cannot cast spells, we should take stock of what healing magic we have available. I have seven potions in my pack."
Cedron takes time to reflect in the tap room with Shadow. He works on composing a song to memorialize their recent travel and tests a few verses as he sips a bit of mead near the fire.
"The man in the moon stands and strides;
on his forked stick he bears his burden [of thorns].
It’s a great wonder that he doesn’t fall—
For fear lest he fall, he shudders and meanders.
When the frost freezes, he endures much chill.
The thorns are sharp; they tear his clothes.
There is nobody in the world who knows where he sits,
Nor (unless it be the hedge) what clothes he wears.
Which way do you think this man has taken his path?
He has set one foot in front of the other;
for whatever effort one takes, one never sees him move.
He is the slowest man that was ever born!
Where he is in the field driving in stakes,
For hope of closing his doors with thorns,
he must with his twibill [two-edged axe] make a bundle [of brushwood],
or all his day’s work there is lost.
This same man on high, whenever he appears,
there on the moon where he was born and raised,
he leans on his fork like a grey friar—
This hunched idler, he is sorely frightened!
It’s many days ago that he was here;
I know he’s not succeeded in his errand.
He’s hewn somewhere a burden of briars;
therefore some hayward has taken his pledge.
If your pledge is taken, bring home the brushwood!
Set forth your other foot! Stride over the path!
We shall ask the hayward home to our house,
And put him at ease, most comfortably,
Drink to him affectionately with a very stiff drink,
and our sweet wife shall sit by him.
When he is as drunk as a drowned mouse,
then we shall take the pledge from the bailiff.
This man hears me not, though I cry out to him!
I think the churl is deaf! The devil tear him apart!
Though I shout up high, he will not hurry;
The spiritless lad knows nothing of the law.
Hop forth, Hubert, magpie in stockings!
I think you are bewildered into the maw.
Though I am so angry with him that my teeth grind,
the churl won’t come down before the day dawns!"
Shadow and Spewer stay in the taproom for a while before settling down into one of the rooms, not picky about who they bunk with. That night as he lays in bed listening to the sounds of the night while looking at the moons of this world, he says a silent thank you for his hearing.
Raven and Captain Hartford stay up late, swapping sea stories. As the night wears on, the elf leans in, "And there we were, plunging into the swirling maelstrom. Jamaros and Drax are at the wheel, straining to guide the ship out." Raven gestures toward Kysek and Ra’ziir, "These two leap up into the rail and stare down into the vortex. They could see clear to the bottom, nothing but mud and seaweed draped across the shattered hulls of numerous ships. But there were people down there, figures moving in the dark well of water, running around like angry bees, just waiting for us to drop down into that whirlpool. Cedron breaks into song, I can't even remember what the words were now, but he inspired those men at the helm and they wrenched that rudder around to force that hungry maw to spits us out."
Captain Hartford takes a draw off of his pipe and replies, "I call %#$&@%#, ain't no way."
Raven raises his hand, "All true, every last word."
Ra'ziir retires for the evening and from his room, he observes the previously-invisible moon for a time before tending to his arcane studies late into the night and on until early morning. He only pauses once he notices the first rays of the new dawn.
14 Hiddumont 348 AC (1351 DR)
The sun rises, casting a pale orange light over the forest. Ornforithalas is looking over the map that Alara procured for the party. He lines up his compass and jots down the course the group will need to follow to reach reported sightings locations.
The party is soon underway, hiking through the forest, heading east toward the coast and the Bay of Balifor.
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