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Inside the inn - meeting the innkeeper, his wife and Llairdlangl the ranger

Jump to Discussion on the Werewolf Problem
Jump to Discussion on possible routes to the Lonely Tower
Jump to Discussion on Sky Pony Barbarians
Jump to Discussion on the Moonwood

In short order, the Unknowns are ready, and leaving the stable boys to finish the tending of their horses and the stowing of their saddles and camping equipment, the group enter the inn proper. The tap room seems relatively quiet, with only a couple of people sitting at the bar eating. It's too early for locals who are still just finishing off their working day, and the various hunters they had seen earlier are probably in their rooms or the bath houses washing the dirt from the trail off. The two men at the bar are dressed in leathers and the subdued tones of green and brown, and have the look of rangers or forest guides. They glance across at the adventurers as they enter, but return to their meal.

The innkeeper, a fairly jolly looking man with a large belly covered by a striped apron, comes out of the kitchens, and bustles over to them, his face wreathed in smiles.

"Ah! Returning visitors!" he says, greeting them. "So good to see the Unknowns back at the Whistling Stag again!" His eye catches Yvandel and his grin widens as he winks at the puppeteer. "There was talk for days following your show last time! Will we be privileged to have a repeat? If so, I'll spread the word and we'll have a full tap room tonight!" He cocks his head slightly. "And free bed and board for the puppetmaster I would think!" he adds with a wink at Yvandel.

<Yvandel aka Steve wrote>:
> "What would you think if we tried something different today.
> No tales of battle and such as I spun for you last time."
> "But something for the children. Would it offend you or your
> customers to invite the children of this community here for an hour or
> so before sunset."

At the mention of children, the innkeeper's beaming smile falters a little and he swallows hard.

<Yvandel aka Steve wrote>:
> "I would like to perform for them a puppet show. A bit of magic and
> tricks of the hand so that the long dark nights ahead do not hold such
> fear for them."

As Yvandel continues, he can see the innkeeper become more and more uncomfortable. He glances towards the window briefly, before returning his attention to Yvandel.

<Yvandel aka Steve wrote>:
> "I could set a limit so that when the sun goes down then I shall stop
> and let there mothers take them to bed so as not to hurt your
> business."

At the mention of finishing when the sun goes down, the innkeeper seems to relax a little, and his smile returns somewhat.

<Yvandel aka Steve wrote>:
> Yvandel leans in with a conspiratorial wink.
> "And trust me. This will do wonders for you with your relations to
> the women around here. Trust me on this one friend."

"And what exactly will do wonders to your relations with the women around here Audo?!" sharply interrupts a petite woman who appears from behind the innkeeper. The innkeeper named Audo almost literally jumps in the air.

"Will you stop creeping up on me Vivian!" he exclaims, his face going red.

The much smaller woman seems to almost tower over her portly husband, managing to both look up and sternly down on him at the same time. She starts to tap a foot as she waits for him to explain.

"Master Yvandel here, the master story-teller, was talking about doing a puppet show for the children of the village," Audo starts to explain.
"Right now, before it gets dark!" he adds quickly, seeing his wife's look of concern.

DISCUSSION ABOUT THE WEREWOLF PROBLEM
 Audo turns back to Yvandel. "It is a good idea" he says. "We could do with something to lift the spirits of the youngsters." Seeing Yvandel's questioning look, the innkeeper continues somewhat reluctantly. "Over the last couple of days we've had a bit of a situation" he says awkwardly. His expression turns very grave and Yvandel can see that the two men at the bar have turned around to listen, their faces serious as well.

"A child from the village was abducted 2 nights ago during the hours of darkness" Vivian interrupts her husband. "He," she jabs her husband's belly with a sharp elbow, causing him to rub his side and glower at the side of her head, "doesn't want our customer's to know because he fears it will impact on our business." She glares up at him for a moment, then turns back to Yvandel and the others who are by now listening in.
"Personally, I think the more people who know about it the better..."
She glances up at the ceiling and the noises still being made above by the group who had returned from their hunting trip a short while earlier. "People who like the challenge of hunting should appreciate the idea of hunting down something challenging!"

"Speaker Geth Stonar has already sent for help from Silverymoon - I'm sure the Knights of Silver will visit soon!" says Audo, half to his wife and almost half apologetically to Yvandel.

"Well I think any hunters, or adventurers" she adds, "would not be scared off visiting Quaervarr just because of one werewolf!" the innkeeper's wife says adamantly, staring almost defiantly at Yvandel and the others to see if they would contradict her.

One of the ranger types eases himself around on his bar stool. "The People of the Black Blood measure more than one, of that I am sure" he says somewhat sombrely, his colleague nodding in silent agreement.

Both Audo and Vivian glare around at the man, who ignores them, moving to address Yvandel. "I think your show for the children is a good idea, but I fear you'll not manage to organise it before nightfall tonight - perhaps in the morrow. How long are you..." he pauses, his sharp eyes catching the moving sigyll on the back of Yvandel's hand, before he continues, "...intending to stay? Perhaps you'll be able to perform for the children tomorrow?"

The innkeeper's wife purses her lips, but nods in reluctant agreement - realistically there would not be enough time to gather the children of the village together before nightfall this evening, given that most of them were probably already eating their evening meal. Audo's eyes light up a little, as he considers the prospect of the group spending another night in the inn.

<Lucretia aka Joe continued>:
> "These wolf people come out at night correct?"

The ranger who had stood shrugs. "I don't know about that" he says.
"All I know is that last year, a half-elf hunter named Jarthon, formally a werewolf hunter of Silverymoon, went missing. In Kythorn this year, a woodcutter from here went missing. We found tracks, and followed them. It seems he was 'hunted'. We eventually found his mutilated and half-eaten body, with a note pinned to the torn remains of his shirt. It was signed by Jarthon and insisted that Quaervarr 'cease it's expansion into the territory of the People of the Black Blood.'" He too looks at the evening light through the window. "The recent kidnapping of the child is the latest attack - but the first one to target right here in in the village."

He sighs. "Speaker Geth Stonar has done what he can - woodcutters don't go out except in groups, and always with members of the militia. The only thing that hasn't changed is the nobles going hunting - they just think of it as another possible quarry for them to hunt!" His tone belies his contempt for the hunters.

<Lucretia aka Joe continued>:
> "Can you show me where the child was taken from?"

"I could, but I doubt it would do much good" he replies. "We've already tracked just about every foot print, large and small from the area - and the trails all just go dead."

The innkeeper Audo claps his hands together loudly. "Now come on Lairdlanggl! These are guests, just passin' through. The Knights of Silver are bound to arrive to help us any day! Don't you go pestering them and trying to persuade them to help in local matters!"

<Lucretia aka Joe continued>:
> "I know it is none of our business <he glances at Blondung>

Blondung simply snorts, shaking his head and moving towards one of the large alcoves, where he proceeds to sit down. Dumping his bag to one side, he pulls out a book and begins to study it.

<Lucretia aka Joe continued>:
> but if there are nightblood wolves in these woods then we are just as
> much in danger as the rest of the town. I suggest the mages get some
> shut eye, whilst I and Ceely see if we can track this creature."

The ranger named Lairdlanggl shakes his head. "We tried tracking already, when the trail was fresh. Used bloodhounds we sometimes use for hunting even. The trail and the scent just went dead. Almost as if the bastard simply flew away." He shrugs. "They'll be nothing left now to track anyway." He looks at Lucretia, meeting the warrior's gaze. "My thanks to you for the offer, but I fear there'll be little you could do."

<Dorn aka Doug wrote>:
> "There's gotta be sumthin we can do, Clangeddin has placed me here for
> a reason, methinks, and I intend to do my duty to Him and what is
> right."

Lairdanggl shrugs. "When the Knights of Silver eventually turn up, I expect them to have a mage with them, who I'm sure will use some magic to locate the child or failing that the devils that kidnapped her." He glances across at the obvious magic users of the group. "If you folks had magic that could do that, then maybe we wouldn't need to wait for the Knights of Silver."

Blondung shakes his head. "Don't look at me! I don't have that sort of divination magic!"

<Dorn aka Doug continued>:
> Dorn flexes the fist of the arm with the sigils a couple of times to
> relieve the uncomfortable feeling. The flexing doesn't really help
> though , so Dorn pulls up his sleeve and looks at the squirming sigils
> and starts to rub them in an effort to ease the sickly feeling
> overtaking him. To Luc and the others in the vicinity: "Maybe we
> should have a drink, what do yous say to a drink? Then lets sit 'n
> make plans fer the morrow"

Larz shrugs. "I'd rather get the dust of the trail off me first." He glances at the ceiling. "Assuming there's any hot water left!" he mutters.

The innkeeper throws up his hands in resignation, and turns instead to the next nearest member of the party. "So, er, how many rooms will you be needing?" he asks, trying desperately to drag the subject away from the tracking of werewolves.

His wife also shakes her head, and hurries back towards the kitchens.

DISCUSSION ABOUT POSSIBLE ROUTES
 Lairdlanggl purses his lips a moment, before glancing at Yvandel, the puppeteer still standing close by. "Did I hear you mention you had plans to enter the Moonwood?" he asks. "You don't look like simple hunters... Why would you do that?" he asks.

Larz shakes his head. "More just around the fringes" he answers before Yvandel has a chance to say further. "We're headed up around the south eastern edge of the Moonwood."

<Lucretia aka Joe wrote>:
> "Still think we should post a guard."

Lairdlanggl frowns slightly and he reaches behind him to pick up a pewter tankard from the bar before gesturing towards one of the larger tables. "Perhaps we should sit for a moment, I'd like to talk more about your travels. I know the area well, and have travelled extensively around and in the Moonwood, you may not find your journey as easy as you might hope."

The other ranger he had been sitting with also pushes back from his now empty plate, draining his own tankard. "Catch you tomorrow Laird" he says, nodding a greeting to the Unknowns and a farewell to Audo before moving out of the inn.

Having nodded his own farewell in return, Lairdanggl pulls up a chair at the large table, as does Larz and several of the others before continuing. Looking first to Lucretia. "If one place in this area is safe, then this inn is probably it!" he smiles. "You shouldn't need to post a guard here of all places!" His face turns more serious. "However, the area you are hoping to travel through is home to the Sky Pony barbarian tribe..." he starts.

At this, there is a slight groan from Blondung, the mage sitting close by and listening in. "Just great" he mutters.

(OOC: You may recall it was Sky Pony barbarians who were flamed first by the Gnomes, and then later slaughtered by the orcs outside Kheizar Dalan - it's reasonable to assume that their tribe might have a grudge, albeit unfairly misplaced, against the party).

"...and at the moment they are all riled up. Adalwyn Swiftwings - the shaman of the Sky Pony barbarians - has gotten extremely agitated about something. He claims the totem beast has revealed to him that a horrible curse is being brought by men from the West to the North, one that will come near the ancestor mound and perhaps desecrate it."

"The Sky Ponies have their ancestral mound - One Stone it's called - about halfway up the eastern side of the Moonwood. Adalwyn has predicted that the mound will be desecrated and the tribe will be eradicated if the mound isn't protected at all costs. Now the chieftain, Jerek Wolfslayer, has been careful since the last shaman - Valric High-Eye - went too far some 15 years ago. The shaman got Jerek's son, Torlin, killed by a black elf. Valric died for that."

"But Adalwyn has been careful until now, and he's finally managed to get Jerek panicked. So Jerek's called in the Sky Ponies from all corners of the North to guard the mound. He has a line of about 100 warriors patrolling the southern part of the plain, warning anyone or anything that tries to enter to turn back. And they have orders to kill anything that doesn't obey. The rest of the Sky Ponies are scattered across the plain north and south of the One Stone, with orders to kill everyone on sight who's not a Sky Pony - no questions asked or answered. We think there are more than 600 warriors out there now, and more warriors come in from the West regularly."

Lairdlanggl looks around the group. "What takes you in that direction?" he asks. "There's not a lot of civilisation in that direction..."

<Ceely aka Deb wrote>:
> She tries to remember every thing she heard about the tribes of Moonwood
> as she listens, but lets the others do the talking while savouring some ale.

<Milo aka Phil continued>:
> He settled himself down besides Ceely, ensuring an arm made it's way around
> behind her, and waited for an opportune moment to ask her about his beard.

Merrell, Larz and Blondung also all remain quiet, looking to Yvandel, Lucretia, Cleo or Vaslin to respond.

(OOC: Hint - don't let the NPCs drive all the conversations!)

The silence stretches out for a few moments, and Lairdlanggl continues to look around the group as no-one responds to his question.

He grunts. "I'll mind my own business then shall I?" he asks, somewhat disgruntled as he pushes up from the table, and makes as if to leave...

Seeing the awkward silence and still wishing to see how that there group and the recalcitrant rangers and hunters can perhaps share some information. Yvandel swallows down the lump in his throat and decides to break the ice.

Pulling a small handful of coppers from his belt purse he stacks them up in two small piles on the table before him.

He begins to tell a tale as he works his fingers and apparently keeps his concentration on the coins before him.

"Well the Moonwood is a vast and sprawling place. It has had tales spun and told since long before man set foot there."

"But I myself am but a puppeteer and know only what I have heard in my travels."

As he speaks Yvandel picks up a copper in in each hand and begins to flip it over the backs of his fingers. One finger at a time and on only one hand. He then switches to the other hand and does likewise. As he continues to talk he starts to flip coins on both hands at once trying to work the kinks out in his hand and practicing on his dexterity even as he is pling his real trade of observing an audience and judging its feedback.

Try as he might it is in his blood. He simply loves an audience.

Yvandel spills out everything that he has ever heard about the Illefarn and Earlanni elves.

Lairdlanggl pauses, looking at Yvandel somewhat strangely as he starts to play with some coins and talk about the ancient elven nations. He waits patiently for a few minutes, trying to figure out what the hell the young puppeteer was going on about.

"What the hell are you going on about lad?!" asks the ranger, puzzled. "What's that got to do with why you're headed anywhere?"

Even Larz looks at Yvandel a little strangely. "Errr, where did elves come into it Yvandel?" he asks.

"But to what is going on there. Well now lads.
That is a different tale to tell.
It is a tale of liches and witches.
Drow and fiends.
Evils unleashes and heroic deeds."

Lairdlanggl, a slight frown of annoyance on his face, looks down at Yvandel, having not yet sat back down. "I'm not a great believer in fairy tales..." he says.

Yvandel slowly eases his speech into that of verse and rhyme and eases into the tale of the band of the Unknowns as they set forth into the Moonwood. He is careful not to mention there tattooes or the names of their foes. And instead leads it more into a heroic adventure set to uncover if the rumors which he is leading all the real information that he has..is true.

Lairdlanggl, still not sitting down, shakes his head as Yvandel goes into a strange tale about the Unknowns and their quest to get to the bottom of some weird set of rumours and conspiracy theory. Cutting Yvandel off before the mage had finished, he speaks.

"OK, OK, so you've got some great quest ahead of you..." he says, somewhat brusquely, obviously not one to be impressed by coin tricks or fanciful tales in rhyme. "Well, the best of luck to you in it!" he says, again turning to leave.

OOC: Sorry Steve - I rolled a reaction roll - and it wasn't good!

DISCUSSION ON THE SKY PONY BARBARIANS
Merrell speaks up however. "Excuse me, but you mentioned the Sky Pony barbarians earlier right?"

Lairdlanggl turns back. "Yes..." he says guardedly.

"You mentioned the name Jerek I believe - their chief?" continues Merrell. "How old is your news? Over a Ride ago, probably around 21st of Kythorn, we were trapped inside a cave with a war party of Sky Pony barbarians outside. Their leader, who identified himself as Jerek, was definitely killed, along with the most of the rest of his war party by an orc tribe who's back door also happened to be in that cave..."

Lairdlanggl's expression becomes more interested as he hears this news. "Well, my news is about four days old" he says. "It could be that it is a different Jerek - after all, it is not an uncommon name amongst the barbarians." He shrugs. "But then again, it could be that the Sky Pony patrol I spoke to were not aware of all the facts."

He looks to Larz again. "Either way, the tribe is certainly worked up about something at the moment, and anyone who tries to head in the direction you are intending is likely to encounter serious resistance."
He glances at Yvandel, his lips pursed. "You might want to consider postponing your quest" he says, a little sarcastically.

Larz grimaces, also glancing at Yvandel before returning his gaze to Lairdlanggl. "I'm not sure that will be an option..." he says. "What about other routes?" he asks hopefully. "Our final destination is well past this 'One Stone' ancestral mound place you mentioned, up close to the western edge of the Cold Wood."

Lairdlanggl shrugs non-commitally. "There is no good way to go there. It's not a good place to go to go to begin with. Once you get where you're going, it's a bad place to be, unless you're going to Beorunna's Well. That's the only thing like a sanctuary up there. Andar Heartfood and his Black Lion Tribe are settled there. They have a regular, primitive village there, where they farm. They've given up the old Uthgardter ways. They don't even worship Tempus and Uthgar. They have a cleric there named Patrevni Onehand who leads the people in the worship of Tyr, Torm, Ilmater and Helm."

"The Red Tigers still take care of the well as an ancestral mound. The Black Lions seem to think it holds a foreign or maybe evil power, and they avoid the well. The Red Tigers are seldom at the well, except for Runemeet, but that's a long time from now, in Eleint. They're hunters, and they prefer to avoid strangers, rather than fight with them. They're usually off somewhere in the Coldwood."

"But once you're any distance from Beorunna's Well well, then you're probably in trouble. Plenty of enemies prowl that land. There are even tales of Yeti being seen up there now and then."

"Still, if you insist on going there, there really are only two other ways. You can go up the Surbrin Valley on the western side of the Moonwood, and fight large numbers of orcs several times a day for five or six days. Or you can try going through the Moonwood north of here, following what's left of the old elven trail, and see if the wood is willing to let you through. There are ways through the forest. I've taken them. But none of them are good ways or safe ways. Starting about 5 miles/8km north of here and a dozen miles/20km east of here, the forest gets magical and dangerous. And it stays dangerous."

http://www.matthew.fenn.dsl.pipex.com/nj/data/Maps/7A.htm

<Vaslin aka Robson wrote>:
> "I GOT IT!!!" Vaslin remembers, to her shock, out loud.
> She blushes as all the attention in the common room turns to her.
> "Hum, sorry for that...."

Lairdlanggl glances around at her in surprise and curiosity at her outburst. He looks at her for a few moments, his cool grey eyes assessing and weighing her, flicking momentarily to the silver coin on a chain around her neck - her symbol of Tymora - before returning his gaze to Merrell.

<Lucretia aka Joe wrote>:
> "Your information is truly helpful and we would love to stay and
> assist in the werewolf problem...but as you can see we have something
> larger pushing us on."
> <He shows the scars.>

OOC: I assume you mean the sigyll tattoos.

Lairdlanggl glances at Lucretia's arm as the warrior pushes back the sleeve of his armour as far as he can, exposing the second sigyll on his wrist. He raises his eyes to meet Lucretia. "I was wondering when someone would bring those up..." he says. He glances around the group. "So these have something to do with your journey I take it?"

Blondung's answering scowl causes him to lift an eyebrow, and reading the other expressions, he nods, almost to himself. "Well, if your journey takes you into the Moonwood, who knows, perhaps you will end up assisting with our werewolf problem after all...

<Lucretia aka Joe wrote>:
> "I don't like it but as the saying goes the quickest way is a straight
> line...and if that takes us through the wood or through Barbarian hell
> I think that is the way to go." "I am open to suggestions <he looks
> at the
> ranger>, and we av' a hole in the party that needs to
> be filled...if you would act as our guide we can offer a fair
> payment." "Especially if you can keep us out of Barbarian trouble."

Lairdlanggl smiles, the expression transforming his face from his more habitual serious expression. He shakes his head slowly as he replies, holding both hands up in front of him. "Oh no, I don't think so..." he says. "I'll set you on your trail if you like, point you in the right direction you could say, but I'll not join in your 'mission.'"

DISCUSSION ON THE MOONWOOD
The ranger glances around the group. "Tomorrow I understand there is a new hunting party arriving from down south - I'll probably be needed the day after to take them out on a hunting expedition." He shrugs. "If you do intend to head into the Moonwood, I can tell you that the wood is nigh on impossible to travel except by some ancient elvish trails which still criss-cross the woods..." He waves a hand somewhat generally around. "The woods close to Quaervarr are like most any other forest you've been in. But the farther north you go, the thicker the trees grow and the darker the forest gets." His eyes seem to grow a bit distant, as he continues.

"I always had the impression that the forest is overcoming something from its past, from the days when it was an elven wood, perhaps. I don't think it hates us; I just don't think the wood can handle us yet, us meaning men and dwarves and halfelves too."

"I think the wood is carrying too many things yet from an old past that don't belong in it anymore, and it won't welcome us again until it shakes these problems off. I have a druid friend who went into the northern wood with me once, and he said the wood is out of balance. He said too much of its past is still there, with things that belonged to the wood of the past, things that have no right to be in the wood of today, and that puts everything out of balance then."

Suddenly, his focus returns to the party and matters at hand. "But that won't help you much," he says. "You need to know more practical things. All right. We found the wood confusing. For the first time since I was a child, I lost my way, and so did my druid friend. We became lost quickly, and it took a long time before we found our way again." He sighs. "Your best bet would be to stick to the elven trails - even they can be confusing and mis-leading, but less so than simply trying to cut your way through the undergrowth!"

"I'll be dropping by here at breakfast tomorrow, if you're interested in a guide to the southern end of one of those ancient elvish trails..."

Nodding his farewells, the ranger turns, nods to Audo and then exits the inn, leaving the group, bar Herod, still sitting around the largest table in the inn.