The Green Dragon Inn

[Ithril]

"We just watched two men carry a torch from the upper floor down and out the door around the tower"

In a low whisper, Morgath asks Orrrim, how do you know they were men? Might not other creatures besides men have use for a light in the darkness? I agree, perhaps not specters, but perhaps not men too.

[tibbius]

"A-hah! A-hah! You're right ... I assume too much. We'll have to see what happens now."

[Valdus]

A strength passes upon Gerar Hornbrewer. He descends into the admission of his situation. He had signed up with these 'knockers of towers' and eaters of dried fish. A courage overcomes him, where he grips the axe with the fascination and hunger for battle nobly of his race. "If we going to do this, we are going to this!"

[Paladin]

For the space of several heartbeats, total silence reigns. Some of the party watch with wide-eyed bafflement and others grin cheekily as they await a response from inside.

Just when you begin to think no one's home, a hard clunk sounds from within, as of a drawer being slammed shut. A hard grunt accompanies the sound of shuffling footsteps. They grow louder with each passing second and then cease.

Silence.

A small window in the heavy door screeches horribly as it's shoved open. Light issues from within, the weak glow of a candle, and illuminates slender iron bars which cross the window. A dimly-lit, pinched face peers at you from within.

"Oi! Who's there? What ya mean bangin' on me door at this hour, eh? 'Ave you got the good sense our Lord gave a pigeon?" The voice is high-pitched and shrill, a woman's voice. "I reckon not, comin' up on folks in the middle o' the night an' all. Blimey." She presses her face to the bars and milky blue eyes roll back and forth as she takes you all in.

"Zounds, but you're an odd lot." She makes a sour face and exhales sharply. "And ye smell like death warmed over. Boozed up fishermen, eh? Come to wake old Matilda and give 'er fits while the master's away, 'ave ya?"

What you can see of her skin is papery and wrinkled. Her hair is lank and white and her teeth are yellow. She bares them now in a snarl. "Well, go on then. 'Ave your laughs, you drunken louts, and be off! I've work to do on the morn. Why, if I 'ad a switch I'd open this door and tan your 'ides right proper, wouldn't I?" The old crone scowls and falls silent.

[tibbius]

"Uh. Pardon our intrusion, mistress," Orrim slowly answers. His speech becomes smoother as his mind arranges what he's seeing in comparison to what he's been told. "We were told in the village that this tower's abandoned, and we thought we'd take a look. But we thought it might be wise to knock first, seeing as we saw two people leave the tower just a little bit ago. Was that your master and his friend? We'd like to meet him. We have information of value to him."

[Ithril]

Morgath listens intently to the exchange of dialog between Orrim & the old wench.
This wild tale of an abandoned tower and goblinish spoooks seeems too quickly becoming a more tame tale of misunderstanding and miscommunication.

[atpollard]

Igber rolled his eyes, thinking "why couldn't the pretty lady do the talking rather than one of the few people that are even less persuasive than me?".

He just smiled at the old woman and shrugged "Sorry 'bout all the noise, ma'am." Then stepped back, but still in front of the door, to yield the conversation to the professional adventurers. (It seemed silly to hide against the wall at this point)

"I'd have told her the truth. We just want to pass through her basement so we can kill the monsters livin' below them." he whispered to himself.

"I've sure got a lot to learn about being an adventurer." he said out loud to himself.

[Valdus]

Gerar gulps and manages to conjure a rudimentary smile on his lips. "This is not one of those days of high adventure isn't it?"
'

[Paladin]

Matilda glares at Orrim. "Mistress?" She bares yellowed teeth in a shrill cackle. "Ain't you the silver-tongued devil? I ain't no one's mistress--naught but old Matilda. I cleans this place, ya see? Tower this big full of this many books and scrolls won't dust itself now, will it?"

Her eyes narrow as he mentions spotting two people leaving the tower. "You lot 'ave been watchin' close, 'aven't ya? Keepin' an eye on the comins and goins 'ereabouts." She wags an accusing finger. "With no good in mind, I'll warrant. Must've 'eard talk about the Master's doins in those musty ruins back yonder--" she jerks her head in the direction the two shadowed figures took upon leaving the tower. "Must've 'eard tell o' the silver and gold yon ruined tower sits atop."

The ghost of a smirk dances at each sagging corner of the old maid's mouth. "A seeker o' things 'idden, is the Master. A great whoppin' brain, 'ee is. A foine magicker. And that gent with 'im--there's no finer sword-arm this side of the sea, is there?"

"I reckon you might find 'em at the bottom of yon foul pit," she muses, clearly enjoying having a captive audience. "If yer bold enough. Or die tryin', more like."

[Ithril]

"I'm beginning to miss that pot of tea I left at the inn." Morgath thinks to himself as he listens to the old crow. "It was a good pot too, well brewed."
When the wench mentions gold, Morgath remembers an old tale of a battle fought to gain the renowned treasure of a kingdom long ago, but all that was in the treasure house was a stone engraved with the words "Peace among all men". There are other things of value besides shiny metal, but that's probably the only thing valuable under this pile of old masonry.

He keeps his tongue, and listens.

I

[tibbius]

"Well I'm sure that your master won't mind us stopping in to chat, we'll wait til he returns," says Orrim, "if you'll just open the door to us, dear Matilda."

Books and scrolls quite piqued his interest.

[Rex]

Chadd

"If you aren't going to open the door my lady, perhaps you could tell us of a better way into the basement?"

[atpollard]

Igber wandered from the door to the rest of the group. He didn't think Matilda was going to let them in, and there were certainly enough people chatting with her without an ignorant boy throwing in his two coppers.

"Excuse me, do you have a rope?" he quietly asked each of the others not near the door. "I wanted to try climbing up to the window and throwing it down so anyone else could climb up after me. With the 'master' gone and Maltida busy chatting at the front door, this seemed like a good time to try."

After asking, Igber heads around the building to take a shot at climbing to the upper window ... with or without a rope.

DM can roll for it. 80% Climb Wall

[Ithril]

Morgath quietly passes his rope to Igber whispering
"Do not cut it. Fine rope like this doesn't just grow already woven from the earth, you know."

[Valdus]

"Or mayhap ye have something a bit stronger than tea milady?"

[Paladin]

The old crone narrows her eyes and tilts her head as if examining a particularly troublesome insect she'd like to squash.

"You lot are deaf, ain't ya? I said the master's gone. You reckon 'ee wants rabble like yerselves millin' about the tower while ee's gone?" She snorts derisively. "And wot basement, eh?" She stabs an accusing finger through the bars. "Ye'll find no basement 'ereabouts. If you want dusty passages and junk to pilfer, follow the master into yon ruins behind the tower, like I told ya. Thick lout." The sour old maid rolls her eyes and slams the grate.

"And good NIGHT!" she bellows as the glow of candlelight fades and the sound of her footsteps recedes into the tower.

Around back, Igber is confronted by a sheer climb up nearly-smooth stonework to a high window some twenty feet above his head. The handholds are almost nonexistent, but he seeks them out with a skillful eye in the dim light and makes his way carefully upward.

[Paladin]

Those of you on the other side of the tower who happen to glance back down the road from whence you came notice a number of torches bobbing in your direction from town. You can hear a murmur of voices accompanying them.

[Rex]

Chadd

"Time to scram, lets head for the ruins."

[Valdus]

"This cannot and will not bode well," the dwarf says. "Ive got the feeling that a hunt of some sort is afoot."

[tibbius]

"That ... was futile," Orrim grumbles. "But wait ... where's the moppy haired fellow gone?"