Chapter 2 > Phandalin

[hedgeknight]

"You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means." Stitches says, turning on Ioriston.
"And just so you know, ELF...you are not welcome at my aunt's house. Go sleep in someone else's barn...ELF. Or in a tree if that suits you."

With that, Stitches walks off.

Garaele clears her throat nervously and says, "So, who wants to buy me a drink at the inn?" hoping to change the subject.

[Computer +1]

Kael grimaces at the exchange happening before him. He offers his hand to Garaele I'll buy you a drink if you tell me more about yer banshee.

And to the rest of the group he adds We better not split up too much, I guess Stitches is on his own.

[OGRE MAGE]

Kelton

I agree! Let's stick together. I won't stop anyone who disagrees with that though.

I think that our little friend will be back again, and hopefully willing to help. If he was in the Redbrands, he might be just what we need to gain the upper hand over them. Perhaps he is embarrassed and doesn't want to discuss it with us at the moment.

Let's regroup over a drink and talk more about Garaele's banshee. I also think we should discuss investigating the possible captives near the old crypts. Garaele, do you know of such a place?

[hedgeknight]

The Stonehill Inn is busy but still has a free table or two and Garaele hustles to it and pulls Kael down beside her. "A glass of chilled wine would be nice." She blinks...and smiles.

She then turns to Kelton. "The old crypts? Don't know of any in town. But then, I haven't lived here very long. I'd guess you'd get an answer from one of the older townsfolk."

And then it becomes apparent...nearly everyone in the room is looking at your table. Maybe it's the bloodstains on your clothes. Maybe its the gauze wrapped around freshly healed wounds. Maybe it's because all of you look like you've been run over by a herd of cattle.
Nobody's eating or drinking, or talking. They are just looking at you, many slack-mouthed. A few whispering among themselves.

Finally, an old, retired miner blurts, "Word is...someone just kilt a bunch of them damn Redbrands behind the bell tower no more than an hour ago. Reckon ye might know sommat about that, eh?"

[Computer +1]

Kael sits right beside Garaele and orders Chilled wine and an Ale to no one in particular.
When he notices how quiet it is and the stares of the people he tears his eyes away from the elven woman.

His reply to the old minerKilled some Redbrands? That was us Old Man. Shit on them and their like!

[OGRE MAGE]

Kelton stands and addresses the entire room.

You people have a serious problem in your happy little town here.

Yes, it is true that we had an altercation with these redbands. It would appear that they mean business too because we almost lost a few of our own in the battle. This enemy is not weak, as some of you may already know. But, they are not indomitable, as you can now see before you. It has always been my experience that a bully will usually back down when he is confronted with his own tactics. Most of these men are nothing but sheep that are following their leader. If we stand any chance of stopping them simply taking over your lives here, we must cut off the head of this nasty snake.

Are there any among you that will stand up against them? We could use all the help we can get as it sounds as though we are outnumbered greatly.

Even if you won't fight against them, we could still use any information you have about them. If we can find all of there weaknesses, we can try to exploit that to our advantage. We are here to help you get your lives back together. Are there any here that know of captives being held at the old crypts?

Kelton watches the crowd carefully, looking into the faces of the poor, abused townsfolk. He tries to discern if he has ruffled any feathers of folk that might be in league with the guild. If anyone suddenly exits the inn, he will quietly leave as well, attempting to follow them.

[OGRE MAGE]

Gary, do you want us to take the liberty of posting rolls or would you rather ask for them first?

Kelton rolled persuasion with advantage and got a 17 over the frightened townspeople.

Some DMs only like you to roll after they tell you to.

Thanks.

[Computer +1]

Kael does a double take at Kelton as he delivers his address to the crowd. He looks around the room at the common folk to see how they take it.

He then stands up next to Kelton and puts his arm around him. Yeah, like I said, shit on those Redbrands! I'm buying a round of drinks for everyone that is happy to seeing the end of those arseholes around here!

He quietly mutters to Kelton, These are simple folk like me. Simple words and simple deeds work best.

[hedgeknight]

Posting your own rolls are cool with me, Rob. In fact, I prefer it

His reply to the old miner Killed some Redbrands? That was us Old Man. Shit on them and their like!

The old miner nearly spits his teeth out, slamming his hand on the table. "Har! That's what I want ta hear!"
"It's a wonder ye can hear anything a'tall," replies another man at the old miner's table, drawing more than a few guffaws from the crowd, and a dark scowl from the miner.

Then Kelton stands and addresses the crowd, speaking with ease about putting an end to the Redbrands, and especially taking out their leader. As he speaks, he notices many of the townsfolk lower their heads, not meeting his gaze at first. But as he talks, he sees hope in their faces, perhaps for the first time in a long time.
After his delivery, no one says a word for several seconds. Then, a man stands slowly, his hands folded in front of him. Others look back and forth from him to Kelton and Kael, who has now stood up, waiting to see what the man may say or do. Kelton gets the impression that this man's word may carry some weight.

PZO9031-SternFarmer.jpg (26.48 KiB) Viewed 1202 times

"Fine words, my friend. Fine words indeed. You're bearing tells me you come from coin. And yet, your words are not condescending, unlike those of the Lord's Alliance who try to tell us what to do. I can't speak for all of my fellow Phandalins, but I will help you what I can. I'm a simple farmer, but I know a thing or two about how to read people. You and yours seem like good ones. My produce is yours for your journeys here and abroad as long as your aim is to help the town. Folks around here call me Conn."
He offers his hand to Kelton first and then Kael > his grip cracking the knuckles of the warriors.

"If Conn stands with ya, so do I," another man says, getting up and walking over to your table.
"Me and my family too," says a woman of middling years.
And one by one, the townsfolk of Phandalin sound off and walk over, introducing themselves, until the common room of the inn is loud with talk and offers of drinks, supper, leather work, sewing, polishing armor, carrying your weapons (this mostly from a few adolescents eager to hold a blade), and offering places to bunk.

Kael takes the opportunity, raising his voice to a shout, "Yeah, like I said, shit on those Redbrands! I'm buying a round of drinks for everyone that is happy to seeing the end of those arseholes around here!"

Several of the townsfolk shout and cheer, more than willing for Kael to pay for their ales and beers. Needless to say, the rest of the evening is full to the brim with hopeful conversations, wagers, pats on the back, and enough hand-shaking to make your arms sore.

As the crowd dwindles, many staggering away drunken and happy, Conn approaches your table. His face is slightly red from the drink, but his eyes are firm, and his words steady.
"The old crypts, eh? You'd be wanting to get into the Tresendar Manor out on the east end of town. Nasty place that. I got a few things you might be wanting to take with you. Come see me tomorrow, whenever you're able. My farm is north of the Edermath orchards."

Actions?

[wordoftheoracle]

Ioriston sits at the table quietly. He feels slightly responsible for the departure of Stitches, but feels like he'll come back.

Ioriston bides his time and observes the crowd's reaction to the inspirational speech.

Edit: Just got ninja'd by the DM.

Ioriston would like to try to collect as much information on Glasstaff as possible.

[ybn1197]

After the healing from the priestess of Tymora, Gerland pledges to help her with ministering to the physical needs of the town knowing full well he does not have enough coin to pay for the help she has rendered him.

Gerland accompanies the others to the tavern and is as enthusiastic as the group at the town folks willingness to make a stand against the Redbrands, however he can't help but think back to Stitches and what it was that made him a member of that group. While it was fantastic that he had left the group, there must have been something there to draw him in at least initially.

As the ale flows, Gerland prays for the well-being of the folk here. Most, if not all, never received the training that he or the others in this little band had received. If the Redbrands group had been able to inflict the beating him and the others had received then he worried about what they would do to the town-folk.

At the end of the night after Conn makes his offer, Gerland asks him, "What is it that makes the manor a nasty place?"

[hedgeknight]

Ioriston would like to try to collect as much information on Glasstaff as possible.

Surprisingly, Ioriston asks about the mysterious leader of the Redbrands, but is unable to glean much information...at least information he trusts.
"He's a priest what sold his soul to a devil!"
"He's not human, prolly a dopplygangly critter. Might be right chere in this very room!"
"He's a spy fer the Zhents! Bet my right nut on it!"
"I doubt he's even real. Likely somebody made up the name and the Redbrands are too damn stupid to know the difference."
"I heard he's really a woman! Only an evil, conniving wench could front a group of thugs like the Redbrands."

As the ale flows, Gerland prays for the well-being of the folk here.
At the end of the night after Conn makes his offer, Gerland asks him, "What is it that makes the manor a nasty place?"

Once folk find out Gerland is a cleric, they are on him like white on rice.
"Can ya take a look at his knot on the side of my head? Been hurting me fer days."
"I been having trouble with my bowels. Been shitting black for about a week. You think I'm sick?"
"Please pray for my son. He still wets the bed...and he's nearly grown."
"Do you treat pigs? My sow just quit eating. 'Fraid her milk is gonna dry up before the piglets are weaned."
"When can I talk to you about my...well, about my weiner? I ain't been able ta...you know...in quite awhile. And, can ya keep that to yerself?"

[ybn1197]

Gerland will administer to as many of the town-folk as he can, working with the humanoid this evening and explaining that he will help the farm animals as best he can but a druid would be best for them.

[OGRE MAGE]

Kael does a double take at Kelton as he delivers his address to the crowd. He looks around the room at the common folk to see how they take it.

He then stands up next to Kelton and puts his arm around him. Yeah, like I said, shit on those Redbrands! I'm buying a round of drinks for everyone that is happy to seeing the end of those arseholes around here!

He quietly mutters to Kelton, These are simple folk like me. Simple words and simple deeds work best.

Kelton recognizes that Kael is correct and tries to remember the logic in his theory.

He is actually quite astounded at the results of his words to the crowd and treats every single person there with the respect that they show him.

As the night draws to an end, he makes sure that the good Phandalins will hold true to their pledges and tries to remember as many of them as he can, names and professions.

Well Conn, my new friend, I hope that together we can stop this menace that plagues your town. We will be by in the morning to see you again before setting out to those crypts. Good evening then.

Kelton tells the group that he feels like it might be a good idea for him to sleep at the jail tonight in case the other redbrand scum come by during the night, looking for the worm they have imprisoned there. If there are no objections from the group, he sets off to get some well deserved rest.

We can meet up here at sunrise for a meal to discuss our next action. I say we go free these captives first but am up for any other suggestions as well. Good night then my friends. Thanks for going along on this mission to do what is right with me.

[Computer +1]

Kael looks on at the eagerness of their newfound friends with great astonishment. He pats Kelton on the shoulder, I think you are owed an apology, yer words really struck home with these folks. Well done! He shakes hands with all those that offer theirs and tries his best to remember all the names.

Without being rude to anyone Kael then tries to make his way back over to Garaele. So where are you from originally Garaele?

[hedgeknight]

At the end of the night after Conn makes his offer, Gerland asks him, "What is it that makes the manor a nasty place?"

The knot on the man's head is actually a very large tick just behind his left ear. It's almost completely buried into the skin. The man is feverish and his skin is splotchy around his neck and face and hands. (He has "rocky mountain spotted fever." And is dangerously ill.) He's a furrier; his name is Boone.

As Gerland thinks about what to do, Conn walks up to him. "Never got around to answering your question. The old Tresendar Manor has been here forever it seems; so long most folks don't even remember the origin. Rumors are it has old cellars where the dead do not sleep...they walk! But...those are only rumors."

While Gerland chews on that, Boone asks him through feverish eyes. "So...am I gonna be alright? I feel weak as water."

Without being rude to anyone Kael then tries to make his way back over to Garaele. So where are you from originally Garaele?

"I grew up in Westbridge. My parents are tailors. I haven't been home to see them in quite awhile. What about you, Kael? Where are you from?"

[wordoftheoracle]

Ioriston asks Conn:

Does this ancient and nefarious manor have anything to do with the Redbrands and Glasstaff?

[Computer +1]

Without being rude to anyone Kael then tries to make his way back over to Garaele. So where are you from originally Garaele?

"I grew up in Westbridge. My parents are tailors. I haven't been home to see them in quite awhile. What about you, Kael? Where are you from?"[/quote]

Westbridge huh? Me, I'm from Triboar. My family's been farming around there for generations but that isn't for me. He looks over his blood splattered armor. I prefer a bit more action meself. He looks up at Garaele. How about you? You like a bit of action? he says with a wry smile.

[ybn1197]

[quote="hedgeknight"]The knot on the man's head is actually a very large tick just behind his left ear. It's almost completely buried into the skin. The man is feverish and his skin is splotchy around his neck and face and hands. (He has "rocky mountain spotted fever." And is dangerously ill.) He's a furrier; his name is Boone.

As Gerland thinks about what to do, Conn walks up to him. "Never got around to answering your question. The old Tresendar Manor has been here forever it seems; so long most folks don't even remember the origin. Rumors are it has old cellars where the dead do not sleep...they walk! But...those are only rumors."

While Gerland chews on that, Boone asks him through feverish eyes. "So...am I gonna be alright? I feel weak as water."

Gerland leans back, placing his right arm across his chest holding the elbow of his other arm as he rubbed his chin with his left hand. "Hmmm. And how long have you felt feverish Mr. Boone?" As he listens he glances around the tavern to see if he can spot anyone who appears to be a tailor or anyone who would have thin thread at their disposal.

[hedgeknight]

Ioriston asks Conn: Does this ancient and nefarious manor have anything to do with the Redbrands and Glasstaff?

"I've heard the Redbrands have a secret base somewhere around the manor. Not sure where though. It's a moldy ruin. Could make a good hideout, I guess."

I prefer a bit more action meself. He looks up at Garaele. How about you? You like a bit of action? he says with a wry smile.

"Who doesn't?" she blurts out, quicker than expected. She giggles and blushes quite prettily. "I mean, er, what did you have in mind?"

Gerland leans back, placing his right arm across his chest holding the elbow of his other arm as he rubbed his chin with his left hand. "Hmmm. And how long have you felt feverish Mr. Boone?" As he listens he glances around the tavern to see if he can spot anyone who appears to be a tailor or anyone who would have thin thread at their disposal.

"'Bout two weeks, I reckon. Would have went ta the good sister at the shrine but...I didn't want ta have ta show her me privates. Rash all up and down my legs, even on me boys! It's got me a might bit worried."

Looking around the room, Gerland doesn't see anyone who looks "tailorish."