Helix: The Brazen Strumpet

[OGRE MAGE]

Moriartus

He sits in the offered seat, nodding politely at Gerdal and sets the bottle of wine on the table. "Indeed, my name is Moriartus, formerly of the Collegiate Arcanium and now an itinerant ... barrow investigator, like yourself. I assure you though, Garrett was certainly not my friend."

He gestures to the bottle after pouring himself a glass. "Please, partake in the wine." Swishing the purple hued liquid in his glass, he regards the young mage over the rim.

"If the man was a friend of anyone, they are now deprived of such." He starts, ominously. "We found him last week, alone, apparently terrified, and had claimed the group he was working for attacked by a flame haired necromancer and his witch consort." He tilts his glass to indicate Sven and Gerdal in turn.

"Turns out the man was a budding necromancer himself, as he charmed one of my men and almost killed us all by reading an ancient inscription to animate a guardian mummy." Moriartus pauses to drink some wine, then shrugs his shoulders ruefully. "Claimed to work for the Bibliotheca in Ironguard."

He sighs and continues his tale. "In the struggle he was buried under a collapsed roof. We returned yesterday and recovered the body. It's how I learned his real name from a bracelet. Told us his name was Barrett. I assumed his other claim was false and he likely fled a similar betrayal upon your company."

Raising his glass in a toast, he says. "I thought you would like to know."

Sven drinks a small amount of the wine, mostly out of courtesy, his pallet unaccustomed to its acidic flavor. He nods along with the information offered, enjoying the way the obviously learned man spoke so precisely.

He tries not to laugh at he and Gerdals descriptions, but can’t help letting a sly smile slip out. “Flame haired necromancer? I’ve been called much worse, I assure you. Yes, we had a bit of an unfortunate run-in with Barrett and his crew out in the mounds. He was working for a delightfully evil sith-like chap by the name of Knevil, trying to dig their way into the Nergal mound out there. You’ve seen that one? Well, long story short, when they tried to sacrifice our hired cleric to get the doors open, we had to put a stop to them. It didn’t go well for them but Garrett snuck away with another man and we weren’t able to find them. I’m not sad to hear of his demise.”

Sven beams at the unexpected compliment from Orgoth. “Please! Join us Raust. We are meeting many new friends tonight, it would seem. I don’t believe we have crossed paths before. Are you new to the area?”

[Marullus]

Sven beams at the unexpected compliment from Orgoth. “Please! Join us Raust. We are meeting many new friends tonight, it would seem. I don’t believe we have crossed paths before. Are you new to the area?”

"Perhaps," muses Raust, leaning sideways to peer under the table at Sven's shoes, "Your feet are small; they would remember. "

"They lived... in area of the moor," the druid replies. "the community of the Herne statue has long been friends. Those are now dead." Raust smooths down their tunic, thinking. "They need new friends, yes?" They gesture around the inside of the taverns walls. "So, into towns." Not knowing what else to say, the druid trails off, instead smelling the soap-scent on the edge of their hem thoughtfully.

[sastaz]

Gerdal watches Raust with great interest as she speaks in her special way.

"Lovely dear. You seem to be doing well for yourself so far, even out of your natural element."

After hearing about the snakemen she grows more serious.

"Transform them?! What vile sorcery is that? Did I understand you correctly that you've already drafted a couple of companions for this mission? Isvand, maybe we should tag along while waiting for Sven and Orgoth to return? I could do with some overland adventure. It's my own natural element as well, you know?"

She turns back to Raust.

"I take it a woman such as yourself finds her way back to these snakemen easily?"

[sastaz]

He tries not to laugh at he and Gerdals descriptions, but can’t help letting a sly smile slip out. “Flame haired necromancer? I’ve been called much worse, I assure you. Yes, we had a bit of an unfortunate run-in with Barrett and his crew out in the mounds. He was working for a delightfully evil sith-like chap by the name of Knevil, trying to dig their way into the Nergal mound out there. You’ve seen that one? Well, long story short, when they tried to sacrifice our hired cleric to get the doors open, we had to put a stop to them. It didn’t go well for them but Garrett snuck away with another man and we weren’t able to find them. I’m not sad to hear of his demise.”

"I'll raise my glass to that. He got what was coming to him, seeking to doom us all by opening that hellish portal."

Gerdal almost snarls:

"As far as I know, that bastard one eyed dwarf is still out there somewhere though, after the cowardly attempt on my life."

[redwarrior]

"Transform them?! What vile sorcery is that? Did I understand you correctly that you've already drafted a couple of companions for this mission? Isvand, maybe we should tag along while waiting for Sven and Orgoth to return? I could do with some overland adventure. It's my own natural element as well, you know?"

Isvand takes a break from playing his harmonica (poorly) and nods, It seems a worthy goal, and best to keep idle hands busy! You can count me in!

[Spearmint]

"As far as I know, that bastard one eyed dwarf is still out there somewhere though, after the cowardly attempt on my life." Smokie killed the dwarf.

[Marullus]

Raust looks visibly relieved that Gerdal is taking this seriously. The druid speaks earnestly in reply.

"The trail is cold," the druid says shaking their head, "the soldiers followed it, returning empty handed. All who were transforming burned in the hospice fire so cannot be released and followed. This group hopes to do better. Herne bless this hunt."

"The snakemen did not hunt or seek territory - they attacked to wound, knowing the foul transformation would grow their number. After the feverish illness, human skins slide off so the snakeskin emerges. It appears to be magic of the Death Gods - a totem of Kali found upon one now dead. Friar Marcel seeks the linkage."

[OGRE MAGE]

Sven gulps so loudly after the mention of Kali you can almost hear it over Isvand’s musical din. His eyes dart to Gerdal but he keeps his thoughts to himself.

He nods at the druid many times, wondering how anyone could possibly survive such a harsh life out in the wilds, especially out on the dangerous moors that have claimed so many lives.

Seeing the others hitting it off fairly well so far, he wishes them well on their important investigation, if they choose to accompany Raust. “This timing seems to work out perfectly! I am glad we left the moors when we did to unite with all of you. It will do us all good to stay away from those mounds for a while.”

He turns back to Moriartus. “How many mounds would you say you’ve seen out there so far? Perhaps we could combine our knowledge of the grounds at some point?”

[gurusql]

Cadeweed

Cadeweed enters the Brazen Strumpet after his discussion at the tower. He gets a Deluxe upkeep room for the week and and some stew and ale as well.

Seeing his friend Moriartus at the table with Sven he will approach the table and say "Sven, nice to see you again. We met during the festival and I was almost your anchor in the tug-o-war."

Marking off 10 GP for the week - 8 sp for the room and 12 sp for food each day with an extra 3 gp for additional drink.

[OGRE MAGE]

Sven answers.

“Cadeweed! Of course my friend. I hear you’ve had some excitement since we last met.”

“Have you had the pleasure of meeting my friends Isvand here? Or Gerdal? Orgoth. And this is Raust, a druid of the moors, if I’m not mistaken.”

[Rex]

Orgoth

"Good to meet you Cadeweed."

[Spearmint]

The Brazen Strumpet Tavern

While you chitchat and down a few ales, Isvand softly pats the head of the malachite goblin head, rubbing it's smooth bald pate and murmuring "my precious", reminding some folk of a crazy cleric named Reuben who lusted over a gargoyle skull.

Alastar is on the verandah, snuggling alongside the warm furry bodies of the three wolves, Smokie, Namma & Carca. They share fleas and gnaw bones together and each takes turns to howl at the pedestrians in the market place.

Bublé the bard strums a few lines of ribaldry and verse. Among the patrons are a group of scarred and tattooed veterans. They carry the look of brigands with dark demeanor and frowns.

Two dwarves sit, smoking from long wood carved pipes and playing a board game with miniature soldier figures, they occupy the bench seat by a window.

Opposite them sit a young couple. Half-elven judging by racial features, they both carry longbows and share a single platter of food. A tall man with a quartered tabard, griffons and a blossoming white tree stands by the fireplace looking at the scattered trinkets on the mantle.

enjoying the break from expeditions to read the town roleplay.

[gurusql]

Cadeweed

"Moriartus is a good story teller so perhaps he has used all my good material since most of my journeys have been with him. But you have to remember that when I tell it everything is always bigger since I am not yet 3 feet tall." he gives a small laugh to his own joke and then continues "And it is so nice to met some new friends, Orgoth nice to meet you! Greetings Isvand, Gerdal and Raust! May I join you, I would love hear your tales since you have heard mine!"

[redwarrior]

Isvand looks at the skull, holds it this way an that, running his nimble fingertips along the surface, examining it for anything out of place, trying to remember any and all of the stories of goblin kind he heard while underfoot in his parent's store, or while training with his uncle.

After a little bit of time staring into the distance, and screwing his face up like he's trying to concentrate with a lot of noise in the background, he shakes himself and rolls his shoulders a few times. And starts to address himself to Sven
So, and I may not have gotten it all, it's been a while and my Goblin is a bit rusty, but here we go.
This fellow's name is Holy Moley, or Mal'colm', or Mal'achite.' I get the feeling that he doesn't care what you call him so much, as long as his head gets polished every day. I think if you call him by name and tell him what you want,
he can charm snakes, affect fires, cast illusion (phantasmal force). Well, to be precise, Mal'colm' doesn't so much cast as he absorbs a casting of the spell and then can release it later when you ask. think ring of spell storing
....
There was also something about improving one's cooking and love life. Looks around for the half-elven server But I think that was just bragging. Isvand's mind seems to wander for another second. Oh! I almost forgot! It only understands Goblin....

[Rex]

Orgoth

"I speak Goblin, if it is needed. Not sure I can help with the magic thing though."

[redwarrior]

Isvand will pay for a Premier room for a week, along with a tip, 14 GP deducted. following his return from the rosy quartz. He's now very motivated to earn some more coins!

[Cwreando]

Durgo

Durgo comes in and looks around hoping to find a spot with is latest adventurers to join. He spots the others and moves over to join them limping a bit stil.

Wow. That was something else. At least we made it back.

He looks to get some refreshment and some food to lift his spirits and get some nourishment to mend his ailments. Comfort food as it were. He'll see about getting accommodations for a week nothing fancy.

[Karaunios]

Dougal

To Durgo, Fydmar and Moriartus. "Aye. It's a miracle that we made it alave. The gods and whatever else's aut there have smaled at us, that's for suir."

He waves his hand at Cadeweed, but it's obvious the halfling hasn't seen them at the table yet.

"I'm wondering nae. What should we dae first, gang with Dalin tae Crooked Yew or tae Ironguard Motte first?

It's good that the place isn't as big as I thought at first. I daen't feel comfortable in big taens, ye ken?" One can say he's already feeling uncomfortable just by talking about it. "Tae many people and noise. That's fane for a tavern, but not for the autdoors."

[Quonundrum]

After sitting a moment, the druid blurts out awkwardly, "There is a mystery of the slip-skins, the snakemen who infect the people of the lumber camp and the Herne encampment, causing them to molt into being snakemen, too. Herne commands the hunt upon those who have done this to his people."

Moriartus initially regards the semi-feral druid of Herne with some apprehension. At the mention of the lumber camp, however, he listens quite intently. "If I may offer counsel, Miss ..." He pauses, unsure whether the honorific was appropriate, or even understood by the wild druid. "... er, Raust. I had led the group that discovered the fate of the lumber camp. We found snake like trails leading south into the Moor, although we did not track them further. You may find more clues we may have missed. We lacked the time to perform a more intensive investigation."

[Quonundrum]

He turns back to Moriartus. “How many mounds would you say you’ve seen out there so far? Perhaps we could combine our knowledge of the grounds at some point?”

Moriartus shared Sven's alarm at the mention of Kali, although for completely different reasons. "I've seen seven mounds in the meadow, but have only thoroughly explored two. I do not recall seeing one devoted to Nergal though ... interesting."

"Indeed! We should share our maps. If you're so inclined, we could also trade in our magical knowledge." His tone was pleasant and demeanour cordial. His mind, however, was reeling with the implications of what he just learned.

Moriartus was already aware of resurgent Set and Orcus cult activity among the humanoid tribes. The bugbears in particular have been patrolling the Moor. Many are new converts to Set and actively working against those of Orcus, which recently enlisted trolls to their cause.

He would mention the long dormant cult of Impurax, thought to be responsible for the viral plague affecting the treants and the Crooked Yew hives, but he is constantly vigilant and on guard against its secretive agents.

The addition of Kali's influence and an as yet unknown faction seeking ancient tombs devoted to Nergal cannot all be mere coincidence. The threat to the civilized races of the region, he fears, is far more pervasive and dangerous than he originally suspected ...