The Pumpkin Lord of Lankshorn - ICC

[tpj]

You have been wandering North quietly for several days. You are a novice group of would-be adventurers seeking fame and fortune, though mostly fortune as you make your way into the greater world. You are heading towards Dolmenwood, a heavily wooded and relatively mysterious area. You near the border areas as you brace for entry into this strange and unfamiliar land.

As you’ve made your way along a main road through rolling green hills and farmland, you met a fellow traveler who was journeying South, and told of something strange happening in a border town called Lankshorn. By campfire, he told you the following tale:

"The chill of fall was in the air the night that a fiery ball fell from the sky near Lankshorn. There were few witnesses to this event, but by late morning all of the residents of the village had learned of the occurrence and many had looked for where this meteor from the heavens had fallen."

"The great pumpkin field a mile south of Lankshorn, owned by one Merle Branbrook, became the object of much speculation when it was discovered to be the crash site. In the center of the field was a large, charred pit too hot for anyone to approach. There was an ominous cloud over the field that gave the uneasy feeling that the crater stood for something sinister. All through the day the crater smoked, and old Merle scratched his head at the loss of over half of his pumpkin patch. If the residents of Lankshorn were apprehensive about the crater, they were downright fearful the morning of the following day."

"At dawn, Merle made his rounds to feed the livestock. When he went out to the pumpkin field, he discovered an immense, tangled vine dome that had sprung up in the night! The pumpkin vines at the periphery of the crater had grown to great proportions, and twisted into an impenetrable mesh of vine, leaf, and pumpkin. They had completely encompassed the smoking pit discovered the day before. That is, except for one small opening, about the size of a doorway, on the south-east side of the green dome."

By morning he was gone your rations. You never did catch his name or the remainder of his tale.

Now, cold and hungry in the damp autumn morning, you reach Lankshorn. A thin fog hugs the ground this morning as you happen upon the village.

Lankshorn appears as a large settlement of well-kept, stone-built houses, clustered around a tall-steepled church and a cobbled market square. At the rear of the village, a slope rises towards Dolmenwood, which looms ominously. A low hill is prominently visible, just before the eaves of the wood, upon which a ring of tall stones stands.

Given the early hour, you see few people out and about, and those you do seem too preoccupied with their own business to give more than a passing glance.

Situated on the market square, opposite the church, the village inn is a high-gabled, wooden building of overhanging eaves and many-hued, lacquered panels. Above the wide, rounded front door hangs the sign — depicting a white stoat with prominent red horns reclining on a luxurious purple couch—and the skull of a goat.

Player Actions?

[Urson]

Marcus
Still grumbling about his empty belly, Marcus surveys the little town.

Don' see no gen'ral store. What kinda place is this? He steps off the path, wiping his bare feet in the dew-soaked grass.

[polyhedral]

Savendra nods grimly at Marcus.

"The inn's got an unholy look about it, too. What welcomes with the skull of a goat? Might be the church is a better start."

[Koren n'Rhys]

Filius
Looking about excitedly, Filius is all but dancing in place.
The church? We won't find anything good to eat there, and my poor belly is SCREAMING for a meal. Who steals someone's food? Heaving a dramatic sigh, the little gnome gazes longingly at the inn. A goat skull isn't necessarily a bad thing is it? I'm sure it's got a wonderful story behind it. We shoudl go ask! Over breakfast!

[ybn1197]

Bentley Marlow

Bentley rubs his growling stomach before reaching into his belt pouch and thumbing the three coins he has to his name. "Unless the church is handing out scraps I think we should start with the inn. Goat skull or not, we should be able to get a hot meal there. Maybe find a way to put coin in our purses as well."

[Urson]

Marcus
It's a good place to start, Bentley. With that, the man heads down the trail toward the village, intending to enter the inn.

[tpj]

You enter the tavern, and look around the well-lit but rather cramped common room. A cluster of three small tables sits in the middle of the room. The walls are lined with high stools, from the looks of it still disorganized from the previous night.

At one of the tables sits three older men all sporting goatees. One of them has small protrusions from his forehead, while another has what looks like a goat-eye. You overhear a snippet of conversation about Merle's pumpkin field.

A young girl scuttles back and forth from the kitchen, and a plump woman with sparkly eyes is cleaning some mugs and humming to herself. As she sees you enter she grins widely to greet you.

"Welcome fair travelers to The Hornstoat’s Rest Inn! We've got fine accommodations and cold drink at hand. Please, make yourselves at home and grab some breakfast! Got a fresh batch of bogswine sausage pie an' roast tatties today, plus a fine selection of local ales and ciders."

She looks back at the young girl and shouts, "Oy! Willow! Get these weary travelers settled in, will ye love?"

The men pause for a moment and look you over, then return to their conversation.

"Deviltry, I tell ye! Old Merle done cursed himself real good this time! If ye ask me it's all that hoorin' he done as a young lad commin' ta get it's due!" one of the men exclaims to his companions.

"Awww come now, Deggesh, like ye were such a saint as a wee whelp!" the goat-eyed man responds with a chuckle.

"It's probably some horrible prank done by some rowdy woodgrue. They love their fires, they do!" he continues.

The third man with the protrusions on his forehead just nods along and giggles, sipping his ale.

"Aye, woodgrue. But prolly hoorin' too." he mumbles.

Actions?

[rossik]

Bor, the barbarian, just grunt at the skull as the party enter the inn.

After hearing the old and strange folks, he imposes himself to them, hands on their table .

"Whats the nonsense everyone seems to talk? Dont you believe in stranger things, elder?"

[Urson]

Marcus
Marcus wipes his bare, cold feet as he enters. He sits at one of the tables, where he can comfortably listen to the old men. To Willow: I'll have some of that sausage pie and taters, darlin'- and some fresh cider.

Excuse me, fella- what's a woodgrue? And, for that matter, what has this man you're talking about gotten himself into?

[tpj]

The three men stare wide-eyed at Bor as he stands before their the table, then burst into laughter.

The goat-eyed one addresses Bor between snickers, "Aye, we believe in stranger things, friend! The more pressing question is, do ye no believe in trousers?"

They share a hearty laugh.

"Don't know wha' a woodgrue is an' don't wear trousers? Ye must be new round these parts then. We was just talkin' about this eejit Merle Branbrook and the trouble he's got into now."

"Damnedest thing. A fortnight ago there was some strange fires up at ol' Merle's pumpkin farm. Gringle Cormick says he saw some fire fall out of the sky, but he's also known ta nip his cider too hard."

The horned man laughs along, "Aye, too much cider."

The goat-eyed one continues, "The a week ago, some kind of large growth sprouted out of the charred ground. Saw it meself. Some foolhardy types went in to explore. We haven't seen them since. Ye ask me they soiled themselves and ran off."

"Devlitry, I say! Mark my words!" the man called Deggesh interjects, "Merle's cursed the ground beneath his feet with his wickedness! An' hoorin!"

The young girl Willow approaches behind them to greet your group, and you see her roll her eyes at the old men's statements. You also notice her left hand is misshapen, looking much like a hoof.

She politely takes everyone's order and then adds "The woodgrue they's talkin' about? They's mostly harmless, but they's likes their mischief. Small bat-faced folk they's are."

She then heads for the kitchen.

[rossik]

The barbarian just grunts to the geezer, and turn to the owner of the place.

"Whats up with goats and this place?" As he already knows the ways of civilization, Bor places a golden coin in front of the owner.

[Urson]

Marcus

My companion is... very direct.
I had not heard the term woodgrue before- but I am from a town far from here. Did you all see this strange growth?

Marcus smiles at Willow, and stares at her backside as she goes- clearly admiring the view.

[Koren n'Rhys]

Filius
You've really never heard of a wood grue? Filius asked with some incredulity. They can be mischievous little buggers like anyone else, but seem good enough fellows for the most part. Just like to have a bit of fun sometimes, yeah?

He looks around, sizing up the locals, as he waits for his meal. Sausage pie was fine, but who could turn down a good plate of fried taters?

Fire from the sky and a wild pumpkin patch? Sounds fascinating. We should go see what all the fuss is about!

[polyhedral]

Savendra surveys the room, clasps her Holy Symbol briefly, then calls after Willow: One more of those pies, please.

She joins the motley crew at the table. Do you know anything else about those missing adventurers, sirs?

[tpj]

Deggesh responds to Marcus and Savendra, "Aye, I seen the unholy thing with me own eyes. Curved like a dome and covered in thick vine, leaf and pumpkin. Like the Devil's own buttock sticking up from the ground to taunt all the sinners in the land!"

"Don't care what ol' Gringle here says," as he wags a finger at his goat-eyed companion, "those fools who done wandered into that mess got whatever fate they brung upon themselves. The Saints can't protect you when you wander into the Devil's arse!"

"I been sayin' fer years, that whole wood to the North is cursed with deviltry an' shoulda been burned to the ground long ago! T'ain't natural what's found out there!"

"If you've any sense you'll stay far away from that damned farm!"

Gringle leans in to interject, "Though if ye must have a peek, it's about a mile north of here, straight up the main road. At least ye'll have a tale for the whelps back home, so long as ye don't get too close."

Meanwhile, Gor walks to the bar and lays his coin to question the owner.

"I suppose they have no goatmen where you come from then?" she answers with a chuckle, "You must be from far off indeed! Please, take a seat and enjoy a fine meal!"

At this point Willow returns with a large tray full of several small pies, a large steaming bowl of roasted potatoes, and several mugs.

She places the food around the table with care and quietly adds, "The gents here has a point. Ye'd do well to stays away from the farm if ye cans."

[ybn1197]

Bentley Marlow

Bentley opens one side of his jacket and uses it to cover his mouth as a series of coughs racks his scrawny frame. "What did those 'adventurers' hope to gain by entering the vined area?"

[tpj]

The man with the forehead protrusions pipes up.

"Reward." he mumbles as his companions look on with disdain.

"Heard dere was a reward of gold for riddin' the evil in dere." he continues as he takes a large gulp from his mug, finishing with a long burp.

The tavern owner interjects, "Aye, it's true. Lord Barrathwaite is offerin' gold. So of course some foolhardy band had to try to claim it, an' prolly got themselves killed like they do."

[Urson]

Marcus

Oh? There have been people who have entered already? Was my old friend Allain with them?

[rossik]

"Goat fornicators", Bor thinks to himself, with disgust.

He just remain silent, waiting the decisions of his group.

[tpj]

The owner returns to cleaning glasses at the bar.

"I'm afraid I did not get any names. We get a fair amount of adventurin' types comin' through here. Usually they just buy a good meal, maybe some rooms for the night, ask for directions, and they they're on their way." she tells Marcus.

"If ye wish to speak with Lord Barrathwaite, he usually comes into town around midday, or if ye head up to Merle's farm he might be there looking in on the situation. 'Tis about a mile north just off the main road. Ye can't miss it. Will probably be full of onlookers and riff-raff anyway."

The three old men scoff and harrumph and return to their drinks and breakfast.