Vann Hector
At some point, a sore, bandaged and bloodied but relieved to be alive, elf re-enters the tavern. He takes another ale -1sp and settles in to take in the entertainment and to survey the place for likely allies that might explore the River Moorwash in search of the missing poachers.
A dwarf who he vaguely recognised from the tavern earlier, though he too looks worse for wear chats with an obvious fighter type. Anyone carrying a ten foot pole is looking for adventure or traps. That is s good sign and by the look of them both appear up for a fight. Another good attribute. He goes across to make their acquaintance.
"Gentlemen. I perceive you both to be men of distinction and bravery. An eye for risk and rewards. I am organising a search party on behalf of the miller's wife Vina whose kin are reported missing after going hunting out on the moor by the river. The guild master has equipped me with a notable tracker to scout the area but I am alone in this endeavour and in need of the skill and courage of others. If you will partake with me in the rescue, I will share the rewards equally. 250 silver pieces will sustain many days here. Besides I have seen what evil the moors turn men into and I wish to spare those list from such a fate."
He offers Dalin and Rondahl to come with him.
Helix: The Brazen Strumpet
Re: Helix: The Brazen Strumpet
Rondahl the Grim
Rondahl looks at Dalin. "It seems this fellow already has a job lined up." Rondahl once again mutters his maths, "250 divided three ways... um... 83 and a third... not bad." He looks up to Vann. "Wait, is the offer 250 silver for each of us, or splitting 250? Either way is OK, but the more the merrier, right? And I've already told my Dwarven friend here that I would accompany him, but if he's in, I'm in. Are we leaving tonight, or in the morning?"
Rondahl looks at Dalin. "It seems this fellow already has a job lined up." Rondahl once again mutters his maths, "250 divided three ways... um... 83 and a third... not bad." He looks up to Vann. "Wait, is the offer 250 silver for each of us, or splitting 250? Either way is OK, but the more the merrier, right? And I've already told my Dwarven friend here that I would accompany him, but if he's in, I'm in. Are we leaving tonight, or in the morning?"
"There is no spoon."
Re: Helix: The Brazen Strumpet
Vann Hector
"The 500sp reward would be split between you both. I have negotiated my own conditions to lead the endeavour though any rewards are conditional on finding the men alive and bringing them home or bringing definitive proof of their demise. The miller has covered the cost of the guildsman and will supply staples.
I see the enterprise as less than a forlorn hope but a chance to prove ourselves as reliable and conscientious men, skilled at our crafts which may further our reputation should more worthy enterprise be sought.
I shall leave at dawn."
He responds to the question from Rondahl.
"The 500sp reward would be split between you both. I have negotiated my own conditions to lead the endeavour though any rewards are conditional on finding the men alive and bringing them home or bringing definitive proof of their demise. The miller has covered the cost of the guildsman and will supply staples.
I see the enterprise as less than a forlorn hope but a chance to prove ourselves as reliable and conscientious men, skilled at our crafts which may further our reputation should more worthy enterprise be sought.
I shall leave at dawn."
He responds to the question from Rondahl.
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GreyWolfVT
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Re: Helix: The Brazen Strumpet
Dalin downs the rest of his drink wipes his mouth with his sleeve, and puts the mug back on the table looking up at Vann he says "Alright I'm in. So is he by the sounds of it." he indicates Rondahl by pointing a finger his way.
forgot to mention earlier i deducted 1 sp for a drink.
forgot to mention earlier i deducted 1 sp for a drink.
“All men did have darkness. Some wore it in the form of horns. Some bore it invisibly as rot in their souls.”
― Paul S. Kemp, Shadowbred
"If good people won’t do the hard things, evil people will always win, because evil people will do anything."
― Paul S. Kemp, Twilight Falling
DM - GreyWolf's Mystara Adventures - AD&D 2e
― Paul S. Kemp, Shadowbred
"If good people won’t do the hard things, evil people will always win, because evil people will do anything."
― Paul S. Kemp, Twilight Falling
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Quonundrum
- Rider of Rohan
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Re: Helix: The Brazen Strumpet
Moriartus
The rhythmic thump of a walking cane can be heard immediately before Moriartus enters the tavern. The middle aged man appears fatigued as he supports himself with a staff he holds in his right hand. He slowly surveys the room and in particular the young groups of apparently would be adventurers of the Moor. With a frown, he distinctly remembers how such bravado enticed his younger self as a recently minted mage into following a similar group of completely unprepared fools. He was but one of two whom escaped, although he has no memory of the events. His only memento, withered muscles from a disease he contracted from the murky marsh waters.
Older now, and marginally wiser, Moriartus decided the wheels of time won't pause for him. Once more into the breach, as the saying goes. He hoped the particularly obnoxious group of squires celebrating at a nearby table did not involve anyone else in their misguided delusions of grandeur ...
Moriartus steps up to the bar and waves for service. "Mr. Bollo, I assume? Pleased to make your acquaintance, my name is Moriartus." He looks at the prices posted on the board and scans the list. "I require basic private room accommodations, if you please." He counts out the silver pieces from a belt pouch and hands them to Bollo.
He holds up one hand and gestures in the direction of the town bulletin board outside. "The Crooked Yew hives in the Blackened forest. Are you familiar with them? Are they within walking distance?"
-7 sp
The rhythmic thump of a walking cane can be heard immediately before Moriartus enters the tavern. The middle aged man appears fatigued as he supports himself with a staff he holds in his right hand. He slowly surveys the room and in particular the young groups of apparently would be adventurers of the Moor. With a frown, he distinctly remembers how such bravado enticed his younger self as a recently minted mage into following a similar group of completely unprepared fools. He was but one of two whom escaped, although he has no memory of the events. His only memento, withered muscles from a disease he contracted from the murky marsh waters.
Older now, and marginally wiser, Moriartus decided the wheels of time won't pause for him. Once more into the breach, as the saying goes. He hoped the particularly obnoxious group of squires celebrating at a nearby table did not involve anyone else in their misguided delusions of grandeur ...
Moriartus steps up to the bar and waves for service. "Mr. Bollo, I assume? Pleased to make your acquaintance, my name is Moriartus." He looks at the prices posted on the board and scans the list. "I require basic private room accommodations, if you please." He counts out the silver pieces from a belt pouch and hands them to Bollo.
He holds up one hand and gestures in the direction of the town bulletin board outside. "The Crooked Yew hives in the Blackened forest. Are you familiar with them? Are they within walking distance?"
-7 sp
Re: Helix: The Brazen Strumpet
The Brazen Strumpet Tavern
Bollo rubs his chin. 'The hives are several collectives. Small holdings along the western fringe. The Blackened Forest curves in a crescent all the way from north of the Merisc to north of Helix. Certainly the forest that birders the moor is a swampy, boggy, wilderness. A natural habitat for all sorts of bogeymen and critters. Giant bees are one of the few blessings, turning nectar into honey and honey into mead." He pours you a complimentary half glass so you can appreciate the taste.
"As to getting there, well that that apiary is probably the furthest west, maybe 15 miles as the crow flies."
Moriatus. You would consider that to be a full days trek, at least six hours. You chat a bit more, finding out that Clive is a druid of Herne who oversees the beekeeping. The honeycomb bricks are sold locally or made into honey and jarred, transported to Ironguard via the Silver Standard. A henge for Herne rites is located about three miles west where villagers go to meet sometimes.
Bollo rubs his chin. 'The hives are several collectives. Small holdings along the western fringe. The Blackened Forest curves in a crescent all the way from north of the Merisc to north of Helix. Certainly the forest that birders the moor is a swampy, boggy, wilderness. A natural habitat for all sorts of bogeymen and critters. Giant bees are one of the few blessings, turning nectar into honey and honey into mead." He pours you a complimentary half glass so you can appreciate the taste.
"As to getting there, well that that apiary is probably the furthest west, maybe 15 miles as the crow flies."
Moriatus. You would consider that to be a full days trek, at least six hours. You chat a bit more, finding out that Clive is a druid of Herne who oversees the beekeeping. The honeycomb bricks are sold locally or made into honey and jarred, transported to Ironguard via the Silver Standard. A henge for Herne rites is located about three miles west where villagers go to meet sometimes.
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Quonundrum
- Rider of Rohan
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Re: Helix: The Brazen Strumpet
Moriartus
Moriartus samples the mead with a small sip. His eyes open wide and the broad smile visible after lowering the glass indicates his appreciation for the taste. "Oh, my. That is quite delicious, indeed." He finishes the glass and sets it upon the bar. "Thank you, Mr. Bollo, for the information ... and the mead." He nods at the empty glass. "I believe I will enjoy some with the evening stew."
The distance to the remote aviary was concerning, especially with the proximity to the moor. The first problem then is how to get there relatively safely. He bids Bollo good afternoon and exits the tavern in the direction of the Silver Standard.
Moriartus samples the mead with a small sip. His eyes open wide and the broad smile visible after lowering the glass indicates his appreciation for the taste. "Oh, my. That is quite delicious, indeed." He finishes the glass and sets it upon the bar. "Thank you, Mr. Bollo, for the information ... and the mead." He nods at the empty glass. "I believe I will enjoy some with the evening stew."
The distance to the remote aviary was concerning, especially with the proximity to the moor. The first problem then is how to get there relatively safely. He bids Bollo good afternoon and exits the tavern in the direction of the Silver Standard.
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Quonundrum
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Re: Helix: The Brazen Strumpet
Moriartus
Moriartus returns to the tavern after arranging for transportation, mercenary help, and provisions towards the investigation of the mysterious malady afflicting the bees at the Crooked Yew hives deep in the Blackened Forest. He spends the rest of the afternoon and well into the night keeping his ear to the floor, figuratively, listening for any conversations about the forest, hives, and druids. While his ears are busy, his eyes are trained to espy anyone appearing to be the friar whom also asked about the hives at the Silver Standard depot.
All told, three glasses of honey mead and his private room complimentary evening stew made their way across his table before he turns in for the night ...
-9sp
Moriartus returns to the tavern after arranging for transportation, mercenary help, and provisions towards the investigation of the mysterious malady afflicting the bees at the Crooked Yew hives deep in the Blackened Forest. He spends the rest of the afternoon and well into the night keeping his ear to the floor, figuratively, listening for any conversations about the forest, hives, and druids. While his ears are busy, his eyes are trained to espy anyone appearing to be the friar whom also asked about the hives at the Silver Standard depot.
All told, three glasses of honey mead and his private room complimentary evening stew made their way across his table before he turns in for the night ...
-9sp
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Karaunios
- Rider of Rohan
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Re: Helix: The Brazen Strumpet
Dougal
A man with unkempt read hair and beard and weather-beaten skin enters the inn. He's wearing travel-worn clothes of dark green and brown or reddish brown colours, with vertically striped pants of the same palette. His torso is protected by a studded leather armour and over his shoulders he wears a hooded dark green cloak.
He slowly scans the room from the entrance with frowned brow. After that, he approaches the bar with large steps, leans against it and says to the innkeeper. "A beer." He calmly keeps looking around him.
A man with unkempt read hair and beard and weather-beaten skin enters the inn. He's wearing travel-worn clothes of dark green and brown or reddish brown colours, with vertically striped pants of the same palette. His torso is protected by a studded leather armour and over his shoulders he wears a hooded dark green cloak.
He slowly scans the room from the entrance with frowned brow. After that, he approaches the bar with large steps, leans against it and says to the innkeeper. "A beer." He calmly keeps looking around him.
Re: Helix: The Brazen Strumpet
The Brazen Strumpet Tavern
Evening soirée:
The bard is in full swing, plucking the latest anthems on his lute, sorrowful lamentations of love lost, ribald jests at saucy maidens and common folk songs. The tavern gills with patrons, village locals and seasonal adventurers.
Dougal tavern prices are advertised in the topic introduction. So you would post"a beer" (-1sp). The newcomer is served. "New in these parts? Same as most these days. Well be welcome and enjoy your stay." the barkeeper serves and points to a menu of food and accommodation choices.
Fixed on walls or hanging from niches around the room are several commemorative plaques and odd carved trinkets. Most tables have groups chattering, few people sit alone, save a gnome tinkering with a clockwork toy and a scholarly figure enjoying his mead and stew while peering intently into a leather book. Moriartus, who contemplates the next days expedition and the mystery surrounding the affected hive.
The beggar Alastar sits outside, tin cup in hand, swatting at unseen insects and scratching his groin free of bugs.
Evening soirée:
The bard is in full swing, plucking the latest anthems on his lute, sorrowful lamentations of love lost, ribald jests at saucy maidens and common folk songs. The tavern gills with patrons, village locals and seasonal adventurers.
Dougal tavern prices are advertised in the topic introduction. So you would post"a beer" (-1sp). The newcomer is served. "New in these parts? Same as most these days. Well be welcome and enjoy your stay." the barkeeper serves and points to a menu of food and accommodation choices.
Fixed on walls or hanging from niches around the room are several commemorative plaques and odd carved trinkets. Most tables have groups chattering, few people sit alone, save a gnome tinkering with a clockwork toy and a scholarly figure enjoying his mead and stew while peering intently into a leather book. Moriartus, who contemplates the next days expedition and the mystery surrounding the affected hive.
The beggar Alastar sits outside, tin cup in hand, swatting at unseen insects and scratching his groin free of bugs.
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Karaunios
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Re: Helix: The Brazen Strumpet
Dougal
Dougal orders some bread and cheese on top of the beer. This will have to do for the time being. (-2sp total) He nods at the innkeeper's comment and when the cheese is being served he asks: "I wonder if ye ken of any job that needs tae be doun around these parts."
He glances at the gnome sage with the book time and again, as he's the only person around that stands out among the patrons. The hunter wonders what he might be reading in that book.
Dougal orders some bread and cheese on top of the beer. This will have to do for the time being. (-2sp total) He nods at the innkeeper's comment and when the cheese is being served he asks: "I wonder if ye ken of any job that needs tae be doun around these parts."
He glances at the gnome sage with the book time and again, as he's the only person around that stands out among the patrons. The hunter wonders what he might be reading in that book.
Re: Helix: The Brazen Strumpet
The Brazen Strumpet Tavern
Bollo nods. "Yonder gnome is an assistant to Gir Huwen at the assayers and jewellers store. Always tinkering with something. If you find anything in your travels that needs valuing, they can do a good trade. Buy and sell all sorts of odd stuff from the tombs these days." he points to the gnome fiddling with cogs and gears over his tankard of ale.
"That other fellow, older human man, well he just came in earlier. Seeking work like yourself. Oftentimes, village issues and recruiting goes on with folk paying the town crier to shout out notices with the regional news. Check out the bulletin board for stuff or even stick your own up if you want to rally a group of adventurers to follow you."
see the Bulletin board topic in Settlement thread.
"He sure don't look like an explorer type though. Dodgy leg and a nose for books. But he be going off into the wilds tomorrow, something took his fancy he can put his skills too and perhaps earn a bit as well."
Bollo nods. "Yonder gnome is an assistant to Gir Huwen at the assayers and jewellers store. Always tinkering with something. If you find anything in your travels that needs valuing, they can do a good trade. Buy and sell all sorts of odd stuff from the tombs these days." he points to the gnome fiddling with cogs and gears over his tankard of ale.
"That other fellow, older human man, well he just came in earlier. Seeking work like yourself. Oftentimes, village issues and recruiting goes on with folk paying the town crier to shout out notices with the regional news. Check out the bulletin board for stuff or even stick your own up if you want to rally a group of adventurers to follow you."
see the Bulletin board topic in Settlement thread.
"He sure don't look like an explorer type though. Dodgy leg and a nose for books. But he be going off into the wilds tomorrow, something took his fancy he can put his skills too and perhaps earn a bit as well."
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Quonundrum
- Rider of Rohan
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- Joined: Sat Jul 27, 2019 11:57 pm
Re: Helix: The Brazen Strumpet
Moriartus
His eyes drift up to regard the lone weather beaten human winding through the tables for service at the bar. While the man's attention is focused on Bollo the innkeeper, Moriartus gauges the stranger's appearance. Based on the man's demeanour and the dye colors used in his clothes, Moriartus assumes the man's profession to be woodsman, or perhaps even a ranger. The latter would be particularly useful with the investigation into the hives, he thought. If foul play was involved in the bee affliction, an experienced tracker would prove invaluable.
Moriartus jots a couple quick notes into his leather journal and slides it into his satchel. Polishing off the remainder of his stew, he pushes himself away from the table and with his glass of honey mead in hand, saunters up to the bar next to the man with the freshly tapped beer. He turns to introduce himself when the question of a job arises.
"Excuse me, good sir." Moriartus asks the woodsman. "If you're looking for work, I happen to be recruiting for assistance with investigating a disturbing malady afflicting the bees of the Crooked Yew hives in the Blackened Forest. I could use a man familiar with tracking and forest navigation. I can offer a full share of treasure, but it's yet unclear what compensation we can expect. Royal Jelly, however, is on the table. If you can provide your own gear and provisions, I have already arranged to travel with a wagon from the Standard Silver trading company and hired some mercenaries to assist. My name is Moriartus. If you are interested, we leave tomorrow morning."
Moriartus takes a seat on a nearby stool and sips from his mead while the stranger considers his offer.
His eyes drift up to regard the lone weather beaten human winding through the tables for service at the bar. While the man's attention is focused on Bollo the innkeeper, Moriartus gauges the stranger's appearance. Based on the man's demeanour and the dye colors used in his clothes, Moriartus assumes the man's profession to be woodsman, or perhaps even a ranger. The latter would be particularly useful with the investigation into the hives, he thought. If foul play was involved in the bee affliction, an experienced tracker would prove invaluable.
Moriartus jots a couple quick notes into his leather journal and slides it into his satchel. Polishing off the remainder of his stew, he pushes himself away from the table and with his glass of honey mead in hand, saunters up to the bar next to the man with the freshly tapped beer. He turns to introduce himself when the question of a job arises.
"Excuse me, good sir." Moriartus asks the woodsman. "If you're looking for work, I happen to be recruiting for assistance with investigating a disturbing malady afflicting the bees of the Crooked Yew hives in the Blackened Forest. I could use a man familiar with tracking and forest navigation. I can offer a full share of treasure, but it's yet unclear what compensation we can expect. Royal Jelly, however, is on the table. If you can provide your own gear and provisions, I have already arranged to travel with a wagon from the Standard Silver trading company and hired some mercenaries to assist. My name is Moriartus. If you are interested, we leave tomorrow morning."
Moriartus takes a seat on a nearby stool and sips from his mead while the stranger considers his offer.
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Karaunios
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Re: Helix: The Brazen Strumpet
Dougal
The hunter listens attentively to Moriartus' proposal, just nodding from time to time. When the scientist sits down by the table, Dougal ends his food and beer, gets yet another tankard of the house's ale (-1sp) and joins the man at the table.
"A'right. I'll join. I've mine ane equipment. Food for seven days if ye think that's enough, and I've been doing fine sae far with the weapons I've got.
The money is fine but it's the bees that interest me the maist... and their affliction, that is. I can track and will help fighting ony perils we may find on the way there. But just sae ye ken, I'm no heavy armoured warrior." He taps his leather armour. "Sae I won't be the first in the line of battle." He's carrying a broad sword and short bow.
"I'm Dougal, by the way." He drinks from his beer and extends his hand.
The hunter listens attentively to Moriartus' proposal, just nodding from time to time. When the scientist sits down by the table, Dougal ends his food and beer, gets yet another tankard of the house's ale (-1sp) and joins the man at the table.
"A'right. I'll join. I've mine ane equipment. Food for seven days if ye think that's enough, and I've been doing fine sae far with the weapons I've got.
The money is fine but it's the bees that interest me the maist... and their affliction, that is. I can track and will help fighting ony perils we may find on the way there. But just sae ye ken, I'm no heavy armoured warrior." He taps his leather armour. "Sae I won't be the first in the line of battle." He's carrying a broad sword and short bow.
"I'm Dougal, by the way." He drinks from his beer and extends his hand.
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Quonundrum
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Re: Helix: The Brazen Strumpet
Moriartus
Nodding in satisfaction as the man concludes his introduction, Moriartus accepts the proferred hand and gives a handshake in return with a firm, yet remarkably weak grip, one that might be expected from a man easily double his age. "Welcome aboard, Mr. Dougal. Your skillset complements the team perfectly. Two of the fellows I hired from the Mercenary Guild should prove quite capable as front line warriors. Provided they don't simply intimidate foes from even attacking. Trust me, you will understand when you meet them ..." Moriartus says, casually examining the arms and armor Dougal mentioned.
He then procures the same leather bound journal as before from his pack, opening it to a page with a rough, hand drawn topographical map of the region. He sets it on the table and indicates the area of the Blackened Forest to the west of Helix. "As for the bees, I have inquired into any news of the disease afflicting them. The bees began behaving oddly late last summer. It was not until recently when the hives were opened after their winter hibernation that the problem was fully realized."
Moriartus finishes off his current glass of mead and motions to a serving girl for a refill (-3sp). "The wagon carries wood boards and frames to construct a dedicated hive for isolated study of the condition. Oh, I should mention, the bees themselves are rather large." He holds up an arm in illustration. "I suspect if foul play is involved, whoever is responsible will be keen on that wagon not arriving intact."
Nodding in satisfaction as the man concludes his introduction, Moriartus accepts the proferred hand and gives a handshake in return with a firm, yet remarkably weak grip, one that might be expected from a man easily double his age. "Welcome aboard, Mr. Dougal. Your skillset complements the team perfectly. Two of the fellows I hired from the Mercenary Guild should prove quite capable as front line warriors. Provided they don't simply intimidate foes from even attacking. Trust me, you will understand when you meet them ..." Moriartus says, casually examining the arms and armor Dougal mentioned.
He then procures the same leather bound journal as before from his pack, opening it to a page with a rough, hand drawn topographical map of the region. He sets it on the table and indicates the area of the Blackened Forest to the west of Helix. "As for the bees, I have inquired into any news of the disease afflicting them. The bees began behaving oddly late last summer. It was not until recently when the hives were opened after their winter hibernation that the problem was fully realized."
Moriartus finishes off his current glass of mead and motions to a serving girl for a refill (-3sp). "The wagon carries wood boards and frames to construct a dedicated hive for isolated study of the condition. Oh, I should mention, the bees themselves are rather large." He holds up an arm in illustration. "I suspect if foul play is involved, whoever is responsible will be keen on that wagon not arriving intact."
Last edited by Quonundrum on Sat Jun 19, 2021 2:03 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Karaunios
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Re: Helix: The Brazen Strumpet
Dougal
Dougal nods staring at the map as Moriartus explains to him the details of their quest.
"Fine. I've got some questions of my ane though.
I assume these... mickle bees are of a wild variety? They're far enough frae this town to be exploited by humans. The trek would be too long and dangerous for beekeepers. Unless there is another settlement next to it that we don't know about?
Do we ken if there are any elves living there, for instance?
I ask because I like to ken what we mae find on the way there or even if anyone had an inverter in contaminating these bees with something strange. I doubt the elves would.
You're right about sometime not wanting the wagon tae come back, it there's onyone, that is. Getting a beehive back for study. This is fascinating."
Dougal nods staring at the map as Moriartus explains to him the details of their quest.
"Fine. I've got some questions of my ane though.
I assume these... mickle bees are of a wild variety? They're far enough frae this town to be exploited by humans. The trek would be too long and dangerous for beekeepers. Unless there is another settlement next to it that we don't know about?
Do we ken if there are any elves living there, for instance?
I ask because I like to ken what we mae find on the way there or even if anyone had an inverter in contaminating these bees with something strange. I doubt the elves would.
You're right about sometime not wanting the wagon tae come back, it there's onyone, that is. Getting a beehive back for study. This is fascinating."
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Quonundrum
- Rider of Rohan
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Re: Helix: The Brazen Strumpet
Moriartus
"The Crooked Yew is actually one among a collective of hives. Managed by a druid of Herne by the name of Clive. I am not aware of any settlements nearby, although if other beekeepers are druids or of a like mindset, I would assume they prefer it that way." Moriartus indicates on the map the general location of the Crooked Yew, about 15 miles west of Helix.
"The farm bees are not wild, housed as they are in large wooden hives. I don't know what else lives in that part of the forest, nor what we may encounter along the way. You would likely strike up a quick rapport among any other woodsmen here ..." Moriartus gazes about the room as he says this, looking for anyone who might fit that profession. "You could ask around about the Blackened Forest. I am certainly no woodsman and so ill suited for the task."
He begins another long swill from his glass of honey mead, clearly enjoying it, but stops suddenly and says, "Oh, and you asked about the provisions. Yes, seven days should be sufficient. It's a day's travel there and back. The wagon will stay about two days and I was hoping to return with it to Helix."
"The Crooked Yew is actually one among a collective of hives. Managed by a druid of Herne by the name of Clive. I am not aware of any settlements nearby, although if other beekeepers are druids or of a like mindset, I would assume they prefer it that way." Moriartus indicates on the map the general location of the Crooked Yew, about 15 miles west of Helix.
"The farm bees are not wild, housed as they are in large wooden hives. I don't know what else lives in that part of the forest, nor what we may encounter along the way. You would likely strike up a quick rapport among any other woodsmen here ..." Moriartus gazes about the room as he says this, looking for anyone who might fit that profession. "You could ask around about the Blackened Forest. I am certainly no woodsman and so ill suited for the task."
He begins another long swill from his glass of honey mead, clearly enjoying it, but stops suddenly and says, "Oh, and you asked about the provisions. Yes, seven days should be sufficient. It's a day's travel there and back. The wagon will stay about two days and I was hoping to return with it to Helix."
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Karaunios
- Rider of Rohan
- Posts: 4831
- Joined: Sun Jun 17, 2018 7:56 am
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Re: Helix: The Brazen Strumpet
Douglas
"A druid of Herne, huh?" The ranger rubs his chin, pensive. "Very well, Mr. Moriartus. We'll meet tomorrow then. The sooner we leave, the better." He looks around him. "I'll ask some questions around about this Blackened Forest."
When he finishes his ale he nods at Moriartus, stands up and approaches the beggar at the entrance, giving a silver coin (-1sp) and asking some questions.
"Hello, friend. Would ye ken something about the Blackened Forest? I'm sure ye've heard yer share of stories, haven't ye? Or at least ye ken about onyone that cloud tell me onything about the place?"
"A druid of Herne, huh?" The ranger rubs his chin, pensive. "Very well, Mr. Moriartus. We'll meet tomorrow then. The sooner we leave, the better." He looks around him. "I'll ask some questions around about this Blackened Forest."
When he finishes his ale he nods at Moriartus, stands up and approaches the beggar at the entrance, giving a silver coin (-1sp) and asking some questions.
"Hello, friend. Would ye ken something about the Blackened Forest? I'm sure ye've heard yer share of stories, haven't ye? Or at least ye ken about onyone that cloud tell me onything about the place?"
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Gomezthebarbarian
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Re: Helix: The Brazen Strumpet
Stepping in from under the lintle, Barba paused just beyond the doorway and let her eyes roam the interior of the Brazen Strumpet. While several patrons turned to see who was entering the establishment, her face was hidden by the deep shadow of her cowl. What they could see was a tall figure, broad of shoulder and deep of chest covered by a worn and weathered dark cloak with a mantle of wolf pelts.
Barba made her way to the bar and it was clear to anyone with two grey cells to rub together that this tall figure was indeed a woman. Her walk was more than that; there was a feline grace to her movements that belied her well-muscled frame. When the open front of her cloak widened with her gait, the more astute would see the glint of rings affixed to a leather tunic, the brass pommel of her sword and the wide belt which held it to her side. An ordinary shield, unadorned and marked with nicks and dents was slung over one large shoulder.
Once at the bar, Barba waited till the barkeep approached her. “Ale. I want supper too. I want a whole chicken; barring that, then a haunch of mutton.” Her voice was deep, a half growl as she retrieved a small, pouch. When he told her his price, she slowly sifted the pouch’s contents into the palm of her hand; separating the ever dwindling pieces of gold, silver and copper as needed to pay him.
With ale in hand, Barba turned and walks over to an empty table and sits with her back to the corner and takes a heavy pull of her drink while fishing out a curved long-stemmed pipe and a pouch of Halfling weed. Soon the air around her head was filled with rich tendrils of heady smoke. One of barmaids passed by and Barba took a long moment to gauge the woman’s swaying hips. A slight smile creased her mouth as she began pondering what the rest of the night might bring.
Patience, Barba! She quietly admonished herself. Patience…
Barba made her way to the bar and it was clear to anyone with two grey cells to rub together that this tall figure was indeed a woman. Her walk was more than that; there was a feline grace to her movements that belied her well-muscled frame. When the open front of her cloak widened with her gait, the more astute would see the glint of rings affixed to a leather tunic, the brass pommel of her sword and the wide belt which held it to her side. An ordinary shield, unadorned and marked with nicks and dents was slung over one large shoulder.
Once at the bar, Barba waited till the barkeep approached her. “Ale. I want supper too. I want a whole chicken; barring that, then a haunch of mutton.” Her voice was deep, a half growl as she retrieved a small, pouch. When he told her his price, she slowly sifted the pouch’s contents into the palm of her hand; separating the ever dwindling pieces of gold, silver and copper as needed to pay him.
With ale in hand, Barba turned and walks over to an empty table and sits with her back to the corner and takes a heavy pull of her drink while fishing out a curved long-stemmed pipe and a pouch of Halfling weed. Soon the air around her head was filled with rich tendrils of heady smoke. One of barmaids passed by and Barba took a long moment to gauge the woman’s swaying hips. A slight smile creased her mouth as she began pondering what the rest of the night might bring.
Patience, Barba! She quietly admonished herself. Patience…
Re: Helix: The Brazen Strumpet
The Brazen Strumpet Tavern
Evening soirée.
Barba the half-orc warrior brooks no trouble, a path clearing for her as she makes to the bar.
"Ale we can do. Crafted and brewed in the distillery outback. Chicken? We can pluck and roast a fresh one and bring it to your table within the hour or we got meat stew on the go now. Quack, moo, baa', all in there, squeak in barbecue sauce with fritter taters and neeps' if you prefer finger food." Bollo points you to a menu and pricing and sorting out the silvers, "if you prefer a bunk room in the stable dorm or a common room on the landing."
check out the pricing from the tavern 1st post and just deduct the amount to cover expenses appropriate.
Your look around the room will tell you the barkeeper was a previous adventurer judging by the shield, well worn nicked and dented, kept above the bar mirror and the three serving wenches are probably well capable of looking after themselves too. A mage who's prestidigitation takes s 'mage hand' cantrip to 'goose' one of the ladies swaying rears his politely whispered to in his ears that "his familiar will be cut off if he tries that again' by a wench thrusting a slim dagger to his groin.
A friar sits in one corner drinking some honeyed mead. Friar John.
By the far wall a gnome tweaks the cogs of a trinket and chats with a pair of adventurers who show him some small ivory tusks. Next to him in another table a scholarly man is well into his third beer judging by the empties on the table. Moriartus
Outside on the verandah overlooking the village square, Alastar the village imbecile, lunatic, devil possessed, beggar-knight (depending on who speaks of him), sits with an equally difficult to understand brogue-accented Dougal. He received the silver piece and squashes it in a morsel of bread and then swallows it whole. "Ah hae na pockets, th' thieves round 'ere wid pilfer me fur sure sae ah bank it fur th'morra ... Or th' neist day. he says then listens to your question about the surrounding forest.
"Aye th' Black Forest us filled wi' spiders 'n' goblin beasties.
Critters wull sook ye freuch or skin ye alive 'n' wear yer coupon as a mask.
The trees ur alive, thair een watch ye 'n' murder ye in yer kip. 'n' whin ye wake up yer deid, ainlie ye dinnae ken it." his mimicked accent remarkably good.
Dougal, Friar John, Barba & Moriartus to continue or conclude their evening discussions.
Evening soirée.
Barba the half-orc warrior brooks no trouble, a path clearing for her as she makes to the bar.
"Ale we can do. Crafted and brewed in the distillery outback. Chicken? We can pluck and roast a fresh one and bring it to your table within the hour or we got meat stew on the go now. Quack, moo, baa', all in there, squeak in barbecue sauce with fritter taters and neeps' if you prefer finger food." Bollo points you to a menu and pricing and sorting out the silvers, "if you prefer a bunk room in the stable dorm or a common room on the landing."
check out the pricing from the tavern 1st post and just deduct the amount to cover expenses appropriate.
Your look around the room will tell you the barkeeper was a previous adventurer judging by the shield, well worn nicked and dented, kept above the bar mirror and the three serving wenches are probably well capable of looking after themselves too. A mage who's prestidigitation takes s 'mage hand' cantrip to 'goose' one of the ladies swaying rears his politely whispered to in his ears that "his familiar will be cut off if he tries that again' by a wench thrusting a slim dagger to his groin.
A friar sits in one corner drinking some honeyed mead. Friar John.
By the far wall a gnome tweaks the cogs of a trinket and chats with a pair of adventurers who show him some small ivory tusks. Next to him in another table a scholarly man is well into his third beer judging by the empties on the table. Moriartus
Outside on the verandah overlooking the village square, Alastar the village imbecile, lunatic, devil possessed, beggar-knight (depending on who speaks of him), sits with an equally difficult to understand brogue-accented Dougal. He received the silver piece and squashes it in a morsel of bread and then swallows it whole. "Ah hae na pockets, th' thieves round 'ere wid pilfer me fur sure sae ah bank it fur th'morra ... Or th' neist day. he says then listens to your question about the surrounding forest.
"Aye th' Black Forest us filled wi' spiders 'n' goblin beasties.
Critters wull sook ye freuch or skin ye alive 'n' wear yer coupon as a mask.
The trees ur alive, thair een watch ye 'n' murder ye in yer kip. 'n' whin ye wake up yer deid, ainlie ye dinnae ken it." his mimicked accent remarkably good.
Dougal, Friar John, Barba & Moriartus to continue or conclude their evening discussions.