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Progress along the trail to Conyberry is slower through the snow than anticipated, and when the small village is spotted a couple of miles ahead from the brow of a hill, everyone heaves a sigh of relief as dusk is already fast approaching. It can only be the village of Conyberry. Cold, footsore and tired, the party approach the village in the gathering darkness, until at last, buildings become visible.
The forest to the north begins to yield to farmland, and then you pass two small and simple farms to the left and come to an intersection. It's difficult to see. There are small oil lamps burning on the walls of some of the wooden buildings, but they shed little light. Lights does shine from windows.

You seem to be at an unmarked village intersection with roads leading to the north, east and south. If there are any signs here, you can't make them out. No one is visible, nor can you hear any voices, but you can hearing the lowing of cattle and the mooing of an occasional cow in the barns. And there is the sweetly pungent waft of cow or steer manure in the air.

There are two other farms to the right and left of you with light in the windows. There also are buildings before you to the right and left that are businesses of some kind, perhaps breweries, from the shape and the large smokestacks. Both are dark now, except for small oil lanterns burning on the walls near the doors. Farther to the right is a larger building with more lit windows, and you seem to see movement inside. There are still more buildings behind these to the east and additional buildings to the south.

As you're observing all of this, you can hear small objects flying through the air near you. Some are close enough that they make a small breeze in passing. And then a voice shouts out from somewhere to the right, "Y'all can just halt right there in your tracks. You the critters what got Agatha all riled up?"

> Feeling that he has had enough of all this, yearning
> for a warm place to sleep and no more bumps in the road,
> Milo steps quickly to the right and responds.
>
> "We have not troubled Agatha! Is this how you greet a
> group of weary travellers in the cold? Show us to the
> Inn- we have no patience to deal with false accusations
> from strangers so proud to accuse that they hide in shadows!"
>
> Milo is pretty sure that now he said too much...


"Yer the strangers here!" shouts the voice back from the darkness. "'An we don't take kindly to strangers here!"

There is a pause, and you think you can hear something whispered. Then, "where 'av yer come from and what is yer business? Seems a bit of a coincidence that Agatha gits all stirred up then youse folk arrive only 24 hours later... Gits all the animals on edge when she's been riled"

> Bravely, which surprises even himself, Yvandel steps
> forward to stand next to Milo. Deciding to choose
> honesty over lies, he addresses the stranger in the
> night.
>
> "We are not the ones that angered this Agatha you
> speak of. But, I tell you this with the honesty my
> father taught me, show us to a place where we can sit
> and we will tell you all we know. We are but tired
> travellers, as my friend here already said. Tired and
> beaten by the harsh weather. We've travelled far and
> endured much. Your welcoming hand would be greatly
> appreciated and we certainly would repay your kindness
> by answering any questions you might have..."

There is another pause while there is some more hurried whispering. "OK, OK, I'm freezin' my own nuts off up here as well. Make sure your weapon's stay sheathed whilst yer' in Conyberry."

There is the noise of someone dropping heavily to the ground, and a figure appears in the lamp light next to one of the barns. He walks towards the party before stopping. "Come on and I'll show yer to the Hall he says abruptly, and then turns and walks towards another building nearby.

He opens the door, and stands in the doorway, ushering everyone in. "Hurry up, don't let the warm air out!"

Inside, the first true warmth the party have felt since leaving Neverwinter covers them like a blanket. Two roaring fires on opposite sides of the large hall provide warmth, and several lanterns hanging on chains from the ceiling provide light. Of to one side, a door leads to an attached building, and a woman carrying some platters with what looks like a roast pork on them, pauses to look at the new arrivals. As the party look at her, she looks away again, and continues to the far corner, where 4 half-elves sit around on the floor next to their bags and bed-rolls. It looks like the party is not the only visitors to Conyberry tonight.

The half elves stare appraisingly at the party, as they finish trooping in. A few more local people sit at the only table in the entire room drinking from mugs. This certainly isn't the inn you were hoping for, it looks more like a village hall. But it is dry, and it looks like they serve food and drink.

Once everyone is inside, the man closes the door and introduces himself. "My name is Jones. If yer wanna stay here tonight, yer can do so. I won't have people say that the folk of Conyberry are inhospitable. If yer wanna buy some food, or something to drink, then see my wife." He gestured towards the woman now serving the half-elves. "A good sized hot meal will cost yer 4 silver nibs, if yer wanna drink, we brew our own ale here, 2 coppers a mug. Anyone get drunk, they'll spend the night in the snow!"

Having said his piece, Jones relaxes a bit, and a smile creeps onto his face. "Get yerselves settled, and I'll come back in an hour to talk to yer more. I wanna hear what you have to tell." He throws an admiring glance at Cleo, before he heads over to the table where the other locals farmers are sitting. They start to talk and occasionally look at the party.

The party sit themselves down near the fire on the oposite side of the room from the only table where the locals are sitting. A further 10-15 feet further down the hall, the 4 half-elves nod a greeting as the party settle down. Jones's wife approaches and smiles sweetly at everyone.

"You folk look like you could do with some hot food! I'll need to cook some more, so it may take a while, but I'll pop a joint in the oven yes?" In the meantime, what can I get you to drink?"

The woman takes the drink orders and disappears into what you assume is a kitchen off the side of the hall, re-appearing five minutes later with the various drinks you ordered on a tray.

"If any of you wish to freshen up a little, the Privy is out the back, gesturing towards a small door at the far back of the hall. There is a hand pump there for water - cold only I'm afraid."

The woman then disapears into the kitchens again to continue to prepare your meals.

<Balnor Wrote>:
> Walking back to the circle he will begin to sit down,
> right before he does he will spin around and face the
> half-elves, and say jokingly "Nice day out isn't it!!??
> All that snow it seems has drivin more then just our
> group out of the weather and into the safty of a
> wonderful hall such as this. What brings you here?"

The half elves looks up as Balnor speaks.

"We're just passing through" one of the half-elves answers in a noncommittal way, scratching his reddish beard. His companions continue to eat their meal, nodding to Balnor.

> Balnor will study the half-elves, looking to get any
> distinct features and an idea what equipment they are
> carrying. "Oh i almost forgot myself my name is Balnor
> and these are my companions," Pointing and naming each
> one around the circle. "and who might we have the
> pleasure of meeting tonight?

The half-elves are dressed in warm winter clothing, but the telltale glint of chain-mail peeks out from under the cuffs. You can see that not only are there 3 long-bows leaning against the wall, they also each of the four have a slightly curved 3 foot long sword sheathed in ornately painted scabbard on the ground at their side, and a dagger at their hip. The bearded one who had spoken before also has a second short sword at his side.

He smiles gently up at Balnor, and his gaze then takes in the rest of the 'Unknowns'. As he starts to speak, his face looses it's smile, and he has sadness in his eyes. "We are the remnants of the Silver Fir Mercenary company from Daggerford. My name is Sal, and my companions are Jase, Lant and Kern." Each of the other half-elves nods as their name is said. They too seem to have a world weariness about them. "We only got here mid-afternoon."

"We are glad we got here when we did. We were frozen half to death out there!" laughs Herod, speaking for the first time. "You said you were a mercenary company. I thought I might mention that I am a priest of Tempus, a God common to many mercenaries. My name is Herod." Herod goes on to introduce each of the members of the party, pointing them out to the half-elves.

When he gets to Soggrin, Kern stares a moment, then says "You travel in strange company. She looks like an Uthgarth, Black Raven tribe if I'm not mistaken!"

One of the previously silent half-elves, the one named Lant, spots Yvandel's puppet. "Hey, are you entertainers?" Kern shrugs, as his comment is lost as Yvandel starts his show.

<Yvandel wrote>:
> Standing up, his legs slightly sore already from the
> uncomfortable position he was sitting in, the puppet
> already positioned on his arm, Yvandel almost stumbles
> but just in time is able to catch himself with his
> free hand. Rising up more carefully this time, Yvandel
> lifts himself up and coughs a few times to gather some
> attention.

The towns folk, (OOC: about 10 of them in total, including Jones who showed you in) look around from their table on the far side of the hall. The four half-elves look on as Yvandel starts his show.

'Good townsmen of Conyberry, fellow travelers...the hearty welcome that this town has provided to my humble group has given me joy. But, I have two close friends who want to express their gratitude in a more...dramatic way.

With that, Yvandel pushes his puppet a few inches forward, again to catch the attention of the onlookers, and focus it all on the puppet.

And then his 'show' begins...

(VOLO) "Greetings..."
(DOLO) "And well met. We are Dolo..."
(VOLO) "What he means is, he is Dolo...I, of course, am Volo, loved by all. Something poor Dolo does not always appreciate."
(DOLO) "Ah yes, Volo. Beloved by all...inside his mind that is. Ah, it doesn't matter, we merely want to thank you kind people for your generosity."
(VOLO) "Yes. Our master, humble Yvandel, had not expected a treat like Conyberry. We have been traveling for quite some time now and have not had this much luxury in days. Quite a pleasant surprise."
(DOLO) "This small group you see here in front of you (pointing to our group) has provided protection and company to our master. For that we thank them.
(VOLO) "Our master has gotten it into his head to travel the world, trying to display his talents into each town he visits. I think he said something about 'spreading joy'...although I hardly consider Dolo having anything to do with 'joy'..."
(DOLO) "Maybe not with joy, but entertainment indeed. Ladies and gentlemen, you have the utmost respect and most sincere thanks of our master Yvandel. An applause for you all (the puppet puts its hands together a few times, creating a small 'clap' sound)."
(VOLO) "If you are interested to hear some of the tales we have created on our travels, don't be afraid to come over and sit down with us."
(DOLO) "In honour of Conyberry's hospitality, tonight we will speak freely of our adventures...
(VOLO) "Although a kind blessing to our master's purse will certainly be appreciated. Paying these kind souls (pointing to our group) has drained the contents of our masters small leather coinbag considerably."
(DOLO) "Once again our thanks go out to Conyberry..."
(VOLO) "Along with our blessings."

After a short pause Yvandel takes a gentle bow to his audience and then sits back down again, joining his group of friends.

After a few moments, Yvandel has the townsfolk laughing at Volo and Dolo's antics. Even the half-elves sit closer and seem to relax somewhat.

"I for one would be interested in hearing of your travels", says Sal. "If you wish, I can tell you of our 'adventures' as well, although for us it is a rather sad tale."

<Ceely wrote>:
> She then returns to the table, waiting for her meal. She
> catches on as Yvandel is finishing his little act. It always
> amused her how easy it was to Yvandel to breathe life into
> his puppet. She will then engage in small talk with the group.

OOC: As mentioned before, there is no table - you are seated around on the floor... :-) (who me pedantic?)

<Balnor wrote>:
> Balnor will begin by juggleing some objects that he can find,
> he will keep on juggling while talking to the half-elves. He
> will smile at Yavandel and say quietly " I think that what you
> did was just right for the occasion."

Several of the locals turn their chairs around, and begin to watch Balnor juggle, as Yvandel takes a break for a moment.

Milo wrote>:
> Draining his ale, the healer rises as well to address,
> playing along. "ah, yes. I am Milo, the master's personal
> healer.(nodding towards Yvandel) I have been instructed as
> well to offer my services to you for free this evening. it
> warms my heart to do so, and I look forward to help you all.
> As well, I may have some treats for you warriors" talking
> in a conspiratorial way with a smile. "Talk to me later
> about that 'healing'". The healer smiles as he waits.

A look of puzzlement goes across the faces of the locals and the half-elves at Milo's last comment.

<Luc wrote>:
> Luc sighs as the puppet comes out and decides to block things
> out for a short while by praying to Helm.
>
<SNIP>
> Once his prayer have finished he will look up to the rest of the group.
>
> "I have been a little out of it over the last few days. What
> did we get again at the Orc camp and what was in this chest
> Balnor opened?"

"Orc camp?" says Sal. "You been staying in an orc camp? I *am* interested in hearing your stories." He leans forward expectantly.

> Yvandel will wait for the four half-elven 'friends' to
> join us, then wait for others to speak up before
> 'spilling' our tales.

The half elves and some of the locals draw closer to the party, having just finished their meal. As the food for the party is brought out, everyone sits around, and look expectantly at the story tellers... (Yvandel/Balnor or Milo I guess). (OOC: No need to relate the full tale here, simply tell me what facts you want to include, and what facts you want to exclude.)

<Milo wrote>:
> Hoping to fix this, Milo speaks to the half-elves.
> "Friends, I think my puppet friend and the juggler
> give too much excitement to such a bland story. We
> were apprehended by orcs and held captive for a few
> days, but after a few days of non-productive talk
> about escape we were allowed to leave. We are
> fortunate, true, but as adventures go, ours was not
> remarkable."

An almost audible groan escapes from the lips of the locals, who where expecting a juicy story. Even the half-elves sit back a little in disapointment.

> "Ah, Milo," Yvandel exclaims, "now you're ruined it. I
> was just about to tell them a story about how a
> thousand Orcs fell before us before we were taking
> captive, and about how a thousand more fell in our
> escape...but now you've spilled the truth and there
> will be no room for storytelling."
> Yvandel lets out a heavy sigh...
> "Well, as my healer friend here already said...we were
> taken captive by Orcs, held for a few days, then
> suddenly released. I still think that the fact that
> Milo took of his boots (shoes?) that fourth day made
> them set us free..."

Sal speaks up. "Being captured by orcs is no pleasant experience to be sure and I certainly don't envy you! I'm amazed you are all here to tell the tale, since orcs don't generally release their captives. I wonder how you managed to get them to release you, or are you all simply being rather modest..." He grins slightly at them, as he appraises them again in a fresh light.

Glancing over at the locals, who are looking rather let down, he continues. "Let me tell you of our journey, which, though it does not have such a 'successful' outcome, is certainly not bland." The locals lean forward again, eager to hear this new story.

"We're a pretty new company. We are just returning to Daggerford after only our second commission. It was our job to safely bring a family from Tethyr (a hot country far to the south) to Silverymoon, and I'm glad to say we succeeded, but not without some losses of our own. We left Daggerford (OOC: a small place just south of Waterdeep - not on the map) 30 man strong. We lost six on the way to Silvery-moon when we were attacked by a large mob of trolls about 40 miles west of Everlund on the Everlund way. We wiped out the trolls and protected our commission, but we buried six of our own along the Trollmoors."

Sal pulls out a map from a scroll-case, and lays it out on the floor, pointing to various places as he relates his tale.

"However, we did make it into Silverymoon without any great additional trouble" he continues. "But then, after only two days in the city, the reports came in of the horrible snowstorms in Everlund Pass. At the same time, there were a lot of reports about trolls knocking down trees and bridging narrow parts of the Rauvin, then fleeing north and killing anything in the way."

"So .. we had been paid quite well for our work. We could afford to stay in Silverymoon for quite a awhile, but after two weeks, it became clear, that if we kept waiting for things to get better, we could be there for a long time. So, we checked out our options. The road from Silverymoon to Sundabar isn't all that risky these days. We knew we'd have trouble between Sundabar and Jalantha, but we figured with 24 men, we could handle whatever would come along. We certainly thought it would be easier than heading west along the north bank of the Rauvin via Nesme after we'd herd the news about the trolls crossing the river. I wish now we had taken that route instead though."

Sal paused to sip his ale. Wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve, he continued.

"We figured from Jalanthar we could cut across a corner of the High Forest south of the snow and make it into Everlund." He pointed at the small patch of forest east of Everlund. "That bit is actually joined onto the High Forest" he added.

"A day out of Jalanthar things got miserable already. We were battered several times by orcs from the Thousand Fist tribe. For a few days, we managed to wipe out a lot of orcs without any losses of our own and only light injuries, but they succeeded in wearing us down.

"Towards the end of our second day out of Jalanthar, it seemed that we had left the orcs behind. The corner of the High Forest already was in view about 10 miles ahead of us. Farther on, we could spot the snowstorm to the north-west. We were surrounded by bush and small stands of trees, and then they fell on us - worn as we were from fighting the orcs. A pack of 10 verbeegs."

"We wiped them out, but we buried 7 of our own too, and several more had serious injuries. We lost one of our two priests there, so healing became a slow process as well."

"But we finally made it to the High Forest and wove our way in under the trees. It seemed safe and peaceful there, no sign of a threat whatsoever. But in the night, we all dreamed, at least those of us who survived. We dreamed of creatures of the darkness. We couldn't really perceive of their reality. It was just an invisible something that was there."

"In the morning, when we woke up, we found that there were only six of us still alive - all halfelves. The 11 others - all humans - lay there under the trees. Our only Priest - Nardor, a priest of Corellon - examined the corpses. There wasn't a wound upon them, but they'd been drained of every last drop of blood. Nardor thought that we must have been spared because of our elfen blood, although he didn't know why."

"The six of us made it to Everlund and we teamed up with a group of moon elves who'd had similar dreams but no losses in the High Forest. We rode together as far as Yartar, but we had more heavy losses along the Trollmoors. We started out with the six of us and the five elves. After the last battle with trolls, we'd buried Nardor, our mage Lithfingar and three of the elves. Altogether, we numbered six when we reached Yartar."

From there, the travelling is relativly secure. The short road from Yartar to Triboar is regularly patroled, and was free of trouble. We since decided that we wanted to travel to Neverwinter. Hence our stop-over here.""

<Serena wrote>:
> "My friends and I intend to leave the village as soon as the
> weather conditions allow. But, as you might have noticed, we need
> to arrange more provisions and some horses. To whom can I talk
> to arrange this?"

Sal laughed. "This is a bit of a 'one-horse town' you know, so I doubt you will be able to buy horses from here. Longsaddle is the place to go for horses! We are on foot ourselves."

<Milo wrote>:
> "Conyberry surely must have a stable and a general store.
> I know that you have just arrived, but do you know if we
> can get some supplies here? Perhaps you have some horses
> you could part with?"

Jones, having listened along with the other locals, agrees. "You won't get any horses here I'm afraid. However, if you want to purchase provisions and the like, I am sure I can point you in the right direction in the morning."

Finally, Sal looks at Milo. "You mentioned you had something we might be interested in..."

<Balnor wrote>:
> Looking to Sal "I am very sorry to hear about your hard
> and disaster filled trip, if there is anything our group
> can do let us know and im sure my friends will agree to
> help you out. Also you have just traveled from Sylverymoon
> to here, what path would you sugest taking?? And what path
> should we not take?

"If you folks want to go to Silverymoon and you don't want to wait a year," Sal replies, you'll have to go over Nesmé and along the north side of the Troll-moors. You probably won't reach Silverymoon without being attacked by trolls, but it won't be as bad as the High Forest and the stretch to Jalanthar. And you can forgot Everlund Pass."

"It's being said in Silverymoon, that the snow probably will last right through into the next Winter. It's wizard weather that's causing it. The word is, that some Illitard or something like that is active in the High Forest. Supposedly calls himself the Beastlord or something down that line. And it's said that Lady Alustriel and the Mistmaster and others could put an end to the wizard weather, but they're not doing it. They're letting it keep up, so they can trace it to its source. At least that's what folks are saying in Silverymoon."

<Milo wrote>:
> "Our party is on an insignificant journey to Silverymoon,...

"Definitely NOT an insignificant journey!" interrupted Sal.

<Milo continues>:
> ...and along the way we have seen enough to cause me to
> want to turn back. But we have gi'en our word and we intend
> to get to Silverymoon. I appreciate your suggestions, and
> we will certainly try to avoid the trolls as I fear our
> chances. We need horses and Longsaddle sounds like a great
> suggestion, so we will take that into account in the morning
> when we leave, and perhaps we can travel to Longsaddle
> together and procure steeds for all."

Sal laughs bitterly. "If you can avoid trolls then good luck to you. The Everlund way is often beset by trolls, but if a caravan is large enough they usually stay away. We were suprised we were attacked on our first trip to Silverymoon! The trail from Nesme to Silverymoon is supposed to be safer, because the river forms a barrier against the trolls. I only wish now that we had taken that route instead. The wilderness trails between Everlund and Jalanthar runs through giant country, and the High Forest..." Here a shudder goes through Sal as he remembers the horror of that night spent under the leaves of that forest.

<Milo continues>:
> "These are premium herbs, already prepared."

OOC: The Amrans is NOT actually prepared - you need to make it into a potion first!! :-)

Sal steps over to one side with Milo to discuss herbs. "Since we are without a cleric now, we can use all the help we can get. You say that this Amrans herb will cure wounds... I think I have heard of it before. I am sure that it would certainly be useful to us. How much do you have to sell?"

<Balnor wrote>:
> "You said that there were 4 half-elves left after your
> travels with the moon elves and I only see 4 of you!!
> You said that there was 6 of you and 2 were elves???
> Where are these elves now?? And is it just me or does
> death seem to follow you around??? Every one you travel
> with seems to die off in some "mysterious" way and yet
> you live, it all doesn't seem to work out to me!!

<Yvandel Wrote>:
> Yvandel quickly follows Balnor's statement by jumping
> into the fray of words. "What my friend means of
> course, is that he praises your luck at staying alive
> throughout all these dangerous times." Meanwhile,
> Yvandel gives Balnor a stern stare.

Jase laughs for a moment. "No no, nothing so dramatic happened to the elves. We parted company with them in Triboar. They were going to stay there for a few days, and then head south on the Long Road. We want to see the legendary Neverwinter, and we had heard that this trail through Conyberry and round the south of Neverwinter woods was relatively safe, so we carried on to here."

<Meanwhile, Milo is still talking to Sal about herbs...>
> Milo offers, "I have enough for 4 potions. They need
> to be brewed first, but the flowers are prepared for
> boiling. I would be happy to brew the whole batch for
> you, if the coin is right. These are perhaps my finest
> item here save the Spanish nut. I'd like 150gp for the
> bunch, and I can throw in my one use of Kelventari for
> burn healing...> Yvandel gives Balnor a stern stare.

Sal's eyebrows shoot up. "These herbs must be pretty good for you to want to charge such prices!!" Sal looks across at Lant. "Lant, that wound in your side is still causing you pain isn't it?" The half-elf named Lant nods, and winces slightly as he pulls his chain-mail up to show a nasty cut. It looks inflamed and probably infected.

"Tell you what", continues Sal. "Assuming Lant is prepared to try it, and if these herbs are as good as you say they are, then I'll take them off your hands. You brew them, and in the morning, Lant can take one of the potions. If it does the business, then I'll buy all four potions off you for a maximum of 120 gp Maybe less if they don't work as well as you say. If it doesn't work at all, then no sale. If it harms Lant, then... "Sal's face goes hard as stone for a moment. "Well, just make sure it doesn't ok."

A couple of hours after everyone has eaten, conversation with the locals and the half-elves slowly peters out. Milo has agreed to sell some herbs to Sal, (OOC: an assumption on my part!) and managed to persuade Jones's wife to allow him to borrow the stove in the kitchens. Having set the herbs brewing over a low heat, he returns to the group. The half-elves retire a little further down the hall and set up their bed-rolls, and the rest of the party gather round to discuss their plans in low voices. The locals slowly disappear, until the hall is deserted but for the out of town visitors.

<Yvandeel wrote>:
> (OOC As soon as the group has some privacy again -when
> elves leave- let's sit down and really discuss our
> travel plans to Silverymoon. We'll just do a voting
> again?)

<Balnor wrote>:
> After sitting down Balnor looks at Yvandel, "Your right, I
> don't trust those half-elves one bit. If death followed us
> around as a companion I would say that we should all split
> up and yet these 4 seem to stick together. I don't know
> about you guys but I will keep a eye out tonight." at this
> he will Wait and see what the rest of the group has to say.

Herod shrugs at Balnor's comment. "I don't know. Death has followed us as well you could say. Lise, and Kibbit are both dead. Xred and Tempus knows how many orcs are dead! Should we split? Perhaps they consider that they are the lucky four to have survived everything that killed their less lucky companions!" He shrugs again. "Either way, I suggest we keep watch tonight. If nothing else, Milo needs someone to go stir his potion every now and then to make sure it doesn't burn!" He laughs a little. "Hey Milo, how much did you get him to agree to these herbs for again?"

Soggrin glares over at the half elves. "Well I don't trust them either!" she says, hardly keeping her voice low. "Have you seen the way they look at me?" She holds her chin high and defiant. "They recognise my tribe and fear me." She swings her pony tail with it's black feathers.

"Awe shut up Soggrin" drawls Blondung. She snaps her head round to glare at him. "Arrogant bitch" he mutters, but he looks away first from her challenging stare.

"I want to head north", continues Soggrin, almost as if Blondung had not interrupted her. "I want to try and re-join by tribe. If you decide to head in that direction, I would wish to travel with you"

Blondung mutters something unintelligible before speaking up. "I don't know about the half-elves, and I can't tell if their advice is sound. But I suggest we head east to Triboar and check out their story there. People in Triboar should know if their story about 'wizard weather' is true or not." He snorts derisively. "Of course," he continues, "I would like to see Silverymoon myself, and I could be of use to you, since I am a competent magic user. Which may of course prove particularly useful if we do come across things like Trolls and the like." He smiles at the group.

Von Fedel has been silent all evening, and simply shrugs when the subject of direction of travel comes up. He seems to be drawn into himself a little, and sits at the edge of the group, holding his pack and occasionally rocking a little.

Watches:
10:30pm - 12:30am - Balnor and Ceely,
12:30am - 2:30am - Cleo and Herod
2:30am - 4:30am - Lucretia and Serena
4:30am - 6:30am - Yvandel and Milo

Blondung also offers to sit a watch as well - he prefers the first watch - but if anyone makes a suggestion/request he will happily change to sit another. Ditto for Soggrin, but she won't sit the same watch as Blondung. Von Fedel does not volunteer, and simply goes to sleep, still clutching his pack.

<Yvandel wrote>:
> "I agree with that," Yvandel comments. "I have seen no
> real reason yet to distrust the elves...though I have
> no reasons either to completely trust them. Right now,
> my vote is to travel north to Longsaddle, then travel
> to Silverymoon following the river that runs along the
> Troll Moors. That way, we avoid the High Forest
> altogether, and have a good chance of avoiding the
> Trolls...if the river keeps them away that is."

Herod shrugs. "I certainly would appreciate riding horses, and Longsaddle sounds like a good place to get them, but if we head directly there, we'll miss the chance to check-out the half-elves story in Triboar." He drops his voice even lower. "If they are lying, then we may be missing the shortest route, which looks from their map to be the Everlund way. From what Sal said, there must be a trail from Conyberry to Triboar, as they came in on it. From the map that the (not so) Lucky Pears had, (OOC: see "Neverwinter Area.jpg" file on e-groups), there was a trail across the hills directly towards Longsaddle. I guess from the size of Conyberry that neither of the two trails will be any better than the road we just came in on, but I do know that the Long Road between Triboar and Longsaddle is a real road, paved and everything. I seem to remember Gavert saying that it was patroled as well, so it should be pretty safe!"

He shrugs again. "On the other hand, perhaps we should ask the locals as well for their advice on best route?"

The new day dawns, and the party awake from the first peaceful slumber that they have had for nearly a week. They all feel much refreshed (OOC: 2hp back - good rest and fumes from the healing potions brewing in the kitchen?). Apart from occasional trips to the kitchen during the night to stir Milo's brewing, those on watch have a quiet night too. Each of the half-elves also take a watch - you guess they don't trust you any further than you trust them.

An hour after dawn, Jones and his wife return to the hall. Milo has luckily finished his brewing, and the potion (OOC: Qty 4 doses) is now in an empty wineskin that one of the half-elves had. The kitchen has been cleaned, and Jones's wife merely wrinkles her nose slightly at the weird smell as she offers to cook a hot breakfast for the visitors. (OOC: only 4 Thumbs each)

OOC: Regional Coinage:
1 Nip (half-copper)
2 Nibs = a Thumb (copper piece)
20 Nibs / 10 Thumbs = 1 Silver (silver piece)
50 Thumbs / 5 Silvers = a Half Crown (A 5 silver piece)
10 Silvers / 2 Half Crowns = Crown (gold piece)

As his wife disappears into the kitchen, Jones approaches the party. "Did yer sleep well? Good Good! Now as yer'll be oot in the snow t'day, I 'ad a chat wif one of me mates, and he thought yer may be interested in some warm weather furs." He looks the party up and down. "Some of yer don't seem to be as well prepared for this time o' year as yer could be." He smiles broadly. "I can tell yer come from Neverwinter fer sure! Folks there don't know the meaning of the winter months!"

(OOC: As a reminder, although the date is the equivalent of 1st of June, the current weather (31/47°F - -1/8°C, partly cloudy, snowcover 9"/23cm) is - from what the locals indicate - about normal for this time of year. Neverwinter (& Neverwinter woods) has an artificial micro-climate all along the river.)

Meanwhile, Milo and Sal are gathered around Lant, who, after looking suspiciously at the mouth of the wine skin, pours a draft into a cup and quaffs it back, his nose wrinkling in disgust. As the still warm liquid flows into him, his eyes suddenly go very wide, and sweat almost bursts from his skin. His back arches and the clay mug in his hand suddenly smashes in his fist. Sal lays his hand on his hilt and starts to speak "You bastard...." but Kern lays his hand on his wrist, saying "Look!" Everyone looks at Lant as he lies on the floor, his back arched, his wounded side exposed. The wound could be seen to be closing even as they looked. After a few minutes, his muscles relax, and Lant slumps, looking as if he had just run a marathon. His side is now unblemished. "By Chauntea that is amazing!" exclaims Jones. "What the hell was that stuff he drank!"

"You OK Lant?" asks Sal.

"I feel exhausted!" gasped Lant. He wearily cranes his neck to look at his side, feeling it with his fingers. "I don't hurt anymore though" he says smiling weakly, slumping back to lie down again. "Somehow I don't fancy walking through snow at the moment!" He closes his eyes, and seems to fall asleep.

Sal looks again at the wineskin holding the potion. "Well," he says begrudgingly, "it seems to work, although not quite as I anticipated. Not the sort of potion to take in a short pause between battles I guess."

Blondung and Von Fedel ask Jones if they can purchase some of the furs from his friend, and Jones departs, saying "I'll go get him!"

A few minutes later, Jones returns, with a bearded man almost buried under a huge pile of furs. He dumps them on the table, and then starts to sort through them.

(OOC: if anyone is interested in purchasing some furs (read cold-weather clothing) for 15 Silvers each, then step right up.)

As the party are purchasing their furs, Jones speaks to Milo. "Perhaps yer can do me a favour whilst yer passing through Triboar. I have a brother who lives there. Owns an inn there called 'The Six Windows'. Yer can't miss it, it's on the main road in from here. I'd like yer t' give him this." Jones holds out a small neat package. "I wrote a note inside askin' him to give yer a Half Crown fer the service. He'll pay yer OK. His name is Jaunda".

<Balnor wrote>:
> Balnor will walk over to Jones wife " Your food was
> very good! I enjoyed it very much it was a breeze of
> fresh air after eating the slop of a orcish camp! I
> wish to bid you and your husband a thousand thanks
> for taking us in for the night. If we can ever return
> the favour I'm sure we will do what ever we can."

The good woman blushes at Balnor's complement, and Jones shakes Balnor's hand. "We don't have adventure's visit often, and for the most part they are arrogant trouble makers. However, your group have been well behaved and provided some good entertainment," he glances at Soggrin, his face showing concern for a moment, "despite the barbarian woman. If you return through this place then please do stop in."

<Lucretia wrote>:
> Luc will ask the Half-Elves what they can tell him
> about Trolls. Their strengths and weaknesses, their
> tactics. What to look out for and how the ambush their
> targets. He will also ask of any other dangers that
> the group may need to know about.

Sal looks up from where he is sitting next to Lant. Lant is sleeping now, resting in the after effects of Milo's potion. "You want to know about Trolls huh?" he says. "Well, they eat anything, but prefer fresh meat. They heal pretty quick, and when I say quick, I mean quick. You could lop an arm off one in the morning, and by the next day, it would have either grown a new arm or found the one you lopped off and re-attach it!! They don't bleed as such, they certainly don't have blood like ours. The severest of wounds will only seep a little, and perhaps because of this, they don't seem to register pain much. They are very strong. Even you with your muscles would lose a pure contest of strength against one."

Sal pauses to roll back his sleeve, showing a set of teeth mark shaped scars on his forearm. "They have a vicious bite, long arms with sharp claws and can lunge surprisingly far, often attacking more than one target at the same time." He rolls his sleeve back down as he continues.

"Their one weakness is fire. They can't heal themselves quickly from fire. Because of this they fear it. A single torch probably won't hold a troll at bay, but a blazing campfire might. On the other hand, a blazing camp fire might well attract them from a distance. They generally roam either alone or in small groups. It is unusual to be attacked by a large group as we were. The best method for dealing with trolls is to hack their limbs off as quickly as possible and then burn them. Even better, have a mage along to burn them with magical fire before they get close to you. Failing that, flasks of greek fire!"

Sal shrugs and the fire in his eyes fades a little. It is obvious he hates trolls with a vengeance. He leans back a little. "What ever you do, don't underestimate them. Although they often attack blindly, they occasionally show streaks of cunning and hints of greater intelligence than the dumb monsters they usually are."

He scratches his chin a moment. "I noticed Jones pass a package to your friend Milo. I assume that he has asked you to go see his brother. He mentioned to us he wanted to get a package to him when we first arrived" he explains. "I guess you'll be going via Triboar then, sticking to the safer main roads rather than heading direct to Longsaddle. Probably a wise move. Good luck."

<Lucretia continued>:
> Luc will make sure he secures all his furs and then go
> outside to see if they hinder him in combat by drawing
> his sword and giving it a few swings. If he is hindered
> he will try to re-arrange his furs.

As Lucretia steps outside, he finds himself glad of the new furs. The temperature seems warmer than the day before, if only a little, and although the weather is overcast and grey, the snow is melting here and there and maybe just a little less deep than it was before. He draws his sword, and practices a little, to the awed eyes of a small boy passing with his mother. The woman gives Lucretia a disapproving look, and yanks the boys arm, leading him out of site.

Lucretia warms himself up, practising with the sword. He finds that the furs do not hinder him overly, and after a few minutes work out, finds himself hot if anything.

<Cleo wrote>:
> Cleo decides she will get the socks too, but will
> save the gloves for another day. She pays the man
> and gathers her belongings. When she's done, she
> goes wait outside for everybody.

<Balnor continue>:
> He Will also take gloves and socks from the fur man,
> glancing at him seeing him as a rugged man who is used
> to living in these harsh climates. Balnor envies this man
> very much.

<Ceely wrote>:
> Ceely takes a good look on the furs, examining the ones
> that she thinks will fit nicely on her( FP - Size of the
> hood, etc.) She also decides to buy the boots, but turns
> down the mittens. "These woods are far too dangerous to
> use something like that", she says to Serena. "That lesson
> I learned the hard way with my brothers.... maybe I will
> tell you that story someday." After putting on her new
> clothes she inspects what the others are buying, urging
> everyone to buy the coats AND the boots. She turns to
> Yvandel and question him with a smile: "What about Volo
> and Dolo? Are they ok in this kind of weather?"

<Serena wrote>:
<snip>
> Serena buys the fur and the boots and accepts the "gift" from
> the man.

OOC: No boots - only socks :-)

<Milo wrote>:
> Milo, hoping to save some money, buys 3 furs, but gives
> them to Soggrin, Von Fedel and Blondung. He goes without,
> hoping to keep moving well enough to keep the cold away.

Soggrin accepts the furs gratefully. "In our tribe, we are taught that the foreigners (OOC: She means all non-Uthgardt barbarians!) are weak and selfish. We are taught to hate the clerics and missionaries of the so called 'civilised gods'. But you have shown me selfless kindness. We also despise he 'tainted goods' of the foreigners." She fingers the fur that Milo has just given her. "I should hunt and skin and find my own fur, but I think I will accept this rather than freeze. Maybe our ways are not as right as we think they are."

Von Fedel and Blondung seem surprised that Milo would have paid for their furs, but accept them without complaint, muttering thanks.

<Milo continues>:
> Accepting the package and the task, Milo smiles, eager to
> help any man. He puts the package with the herbs, in a
> safe dry portion of his pack.

Jones shakes Milo's hand. "Thank you again for this. It is nothing important, merely sentimental value, and anyway, I have a feeling you are someone I can trust to do this task."

<Milo continues>:
> With that, a nice breakfast, and some money from Sal,
> Milo gets with the group ready to move on to Longsaddle...

The party buys their various furs, socks and mittens from the local tradesman, before stepping outside where Cleo and Lucretia have now finished practising and are waiting for them. Sal & Jones comes to the door of the hall to see them off. "Stick to the main roads and you should be OK. With any luck, there's enough of you to scare off trouble! You should be at Triboar in a couple of days"

With that the party move out onto the trail towards Triboar. The trail is marginally better than the trail from Neverwinter, and as they pass through the last of the farms and then the grasslands southeast of Conyberry, the low north-eastern flank of the Sword Mountains comes ever nearer. The landscape is rolling, the grass and brush often high. The southern sides of trees, rocks and slopes show patches here and there where the snow has completely melted, but when the path passes through shade, the snow is as deep as ever. No sign of other life can be seen in this area apart from the occasional bird.

Spirits rise as the day wears on, and Soggrin even bursts into song at one point, when she spots a raven. She sings in a tribal tongue, surprising everyone at the quality of her voice. Afterwards, she explains that she was singing about her tribe's totem, the Black Raven, and how once a year the tribe travel to a place called Ravenrock, where they ride the giant ravens and worship their ancestors.