[Game Thread] Act I: The Ills of Hengistbury

[quintangible]

Hengistbury It's a brisk Spring evening in Hengistbury. Normally a quiet farming village, it has seen quite a few problems of late, and thus received quite a bit of interest. More travelers have come through town the past few months than had in the past few years combined. Stories of hauntings, disappearances, lost artifacts, monsters, and of course a nearby dragon have spread quickly throughout the area. Many are skeptical. How much could actually be true? Others are curious and must find out for themselves.

The Bleeding Heart The best place to start is the place everyone goes, the local tavern. The Bleeding Heart is, pun intended, the heart of the town. Tonight it seems a little more crowded than usual. The regulars are at their favorite tables, as talkative as ever, but so are some of the village's more prominent members. - A young, spry woman with short-cropped hair bounces throughout the tavern refilling steins and balancing plates of food. Occasionally you'll see her stop by the bar and speak a few words with a smile. - A beautiful, dark haired woman (pictured with her husband, not currently in the tavern) walks in through a side door. Her vestments indicate her position of respect in the community. With her is a short Halfling fellow. He also appears to wear clerical garments, which look strange with his large bare feet. He walks alongside her as they approach a table, but he seems mildly distracted by his surroundings. - At the bar sits an pair of men that look as though they would prefer to be outdoors. One is much older, and obviously respected. He is greeted by everyone that passes. The other is young, but seems mature. He fits in with the other residents in the building, yet is distant. His bright eyes don't seem to miss much. - An elf, not many seen in these parts, sits at a small table in the corner of the hall. A book lies open before him, a quill in his hand. These are also rarities in a town of this size. Yet, his eyes rarely stay on the book, seeming to be searching for something. A young boy, maybe 7 years old, runs around and between tables and chairs. His toy dragon held above his head as if soaring through the air. He frequently stops at the Elf's table, unable to restrain his curiosity. You then see the bard pull out his lyre and play a few a few notes, tuning it in preparation for this night's performances.

[Svalin]

Still a little worn from the recent travel frowning at the condition of his clothing as he brushes a layer of dust of himself, Ban takes a seat at the table whilst only contributing as much to the conversation as he needs to, to not seem rude or disinterested. His minds seems to wonder and he is considering making an excuse so he can go find somewhere to have a hot bath before he eats before he realizes that the Lady has been mentioning Undead and witches.

Suddenly turning to his companion and focusing his attention absolutely on her, Bans voice shakes a little as he asks he voice growing a little to loud as a result of his nerves, "Hold on for a moment, but did you say sightings of undead?" He continues in a more reserved tone "Surely people aren't allowing undead to roam around, I mean are we safe in town?"

Ban rotates on his seat, trying to catch the attention of a barmaid to order an ale, before turning back to Sybill as he awaits service.

[LittleBlueNA]

Sitting in the corner of the tavern, journal open and quill in hand, Keloryn thinks back over the previous few days. It had been a long journey that brought him here. First arriving in Thornbury, he had spent a night at Denhew’s, before paying a local fisherman to ferry the wizard to Hengistbury. Tired from his travels, Keloryn had taken a few days to rest and get to know the local area.

While jotting a few notes in his journal, Keloryn is distracted by the sight of a young boy running around, holding a toy dragon high in the air. Remembering a time when dragons were an object of fascination to him, Keloryn lets out a soft sigh. These days, they tend rather to be a target for extermination. Still, there’s no harm in the enjoyment of youth, especially when that youth will be over as quickly as his. Glancing down, the boy has taken an interest in the wizard’s journal, the toy hanging limply at his side.

“That’s Draconic.” the boy states, jolting Keloryn out of his thoughts. “I know all about draconic.” Suddenly very interested in this youth, the wizard looks intently in the boy’s eyes and questions “Uι bατοbοτ ζυακ?”"(Draconic) Is that so?"*.

Nodding his head, the boy holds his dragon aloft once more and resumes running around the room, weaving through tables and patrons alike. Interesting, I wonder what kind of adventures he and his dragon are having?

Still pondering this intriguing child, Keloryn’s eyes sweep the room. He recognizes a few familiar faces at this point. The smiling barmaid, Meredith, has answered the few questions he has put forward. The sheriff is in hushed conversation with another man at the bar. Interrupting his thoughts again, the young boy makes another pass by the table, stopping only long enough to say “I’m going to be a dragon someday!” The corners of Keloryn’s mouth turn upward for a brief moment. "That will be something to see."

Then, entering through a side door, steps a beautiful woman in clerical vestiment. In spite of himself, Keloryn's eyes widen slightly as his heart skips a beat. He has heard much of Lady Sybill Pemberton, but words fail to do her justice. Entering the room, she easily turns heads, both with her beauty and the respect she holds. Of the entire community, she’s the one I need to speak to. She’s the one I can most surely put my trust in. The Lady, along with her previously unnoticed Halfling companion, makes her way to an empty table and sits down. Above the din, Keloryn hears bits and pieces of their conversation. They seem to be discussing Brockendale Castle, and he hears something about a missing scabbard.

Just as he readies himself to go and greet Lady Pemberton, the boy approaches his table again. Looking directly into Keloryn’s fiery blue eyes, and with an intent look on his face, he states “I bet you want to see the dragon near here. You’ll need more than books for that. Powerful magic things…” Latching onto the boy’s shoulder, Keloryn looks deeply into his eyes... searching him.

“What do you know about the dragon, boy?”

[Rainbow007]

Stepping into The Bleeding Heart, Altor shifted the weight of the sword on her back and headed towards the bar. All of her father's best stories always started with the group being in a tavern somewhere, and not to mention this was the only place in town newcomers and travelers come through. Waving to Meredith, the farmgirl orders up a stein of cider and takes a seat, her ears open and listening. Something about a haunted castle caught her attention for a bit, but that could just be talk about that old castle that everyone in town knew was haunted...maybe they were finally doing something about it.

Raising her stein quickly to Sheriff Torek, something caught Altor's eye off to the side. An elf of all things, in this tavern, talking to young little Aus. Then she saw the elf grab him by the shoulder and stare deep into the young boy's eyes. Best to make sure nothing happened....Taking her stein with her, Altor stepped up to the elf, the sharpened slab of iron she called a sword hanging across her back, almost as long as she was tall. "Hey Aus, is everything okay over here?" She asked, her eyes firmly on the traveler.

[Vodka Slushy]

Tabatha hadn't been in town long.

In fact, The Bleeding Heart greeted her as the first inviting door through this area as she strolled through these new surroundings. Much of this village reminded her of her youth with thatched roofs, granary mills, and different shops for various trades needed to make this community work. Albeit, the walls here weren't what she was used to with her secluded and overly protective home. Protections seemed much smaller, almost less important? She'd have to ask somebody about this.

Perhaps it was a good welcoming for a girl who had just arrived to this undiscovered area. She could count on one hand the amount of different villages she'd been to, and this was certainly the farthest away. She felt more at home skulking through ruins than she did in the wide open spaces. Somehow it seemed lonelier on roads that accompanied the edges of wheat fields.

She bore her traveling cloak around herself. Her scarf was pocketed with many items, and her vest and multitudinous belt pouches were certainly predisposed to be stared at. She learned this early in her travels. It was rather hard to explain how hard it was to carry all your items in a backpack and still use them when climbing around abandoned dwarven temples! Many of these farmers couldn't comprehend that there was a whole other world below their feet. Ancient items and magic existed there, which was always the main source of drive, curiosity, and frustration for Tabatha. Curiosity bestowed by her Father who insisted he come to the ruins to climb around and retrieve items his lame leg wouldn't let him; frustration that she hadn't inherited any magical ability to appreciate what she could find. Traveling now, she was still deciding if pawning her discoveries or finding a wizard to employ herself with would be her ultimate path.

The tavern greeted her with a warm light and a soft glowing heat as the fire bellowed softly near the entrance. It didn't take long for the temperature to seep through her traveling garments and start to bring an inside comfort. Her naivety must have been immediately apparent to anyone who would have cared to take notice. She stood square in front of the entrance, blocking anyone behind her, staring out over the crowd and experiencing the sights of a few new types of people she didn't know populated the world.

She'd seen an elf before, one would sometimes come by her village for trade, so the commotion in the corner wasn't as interesting to her as the small man that she'd only heard about in stories. A halfling! With little courtesy she walked through the crowd and between conversations and approached him. Tabatha didn't think much of vanity, and certainly had an ignorance of hierarchy, so she would be oblivious to any insult given to woman of great importance. She didn't even address her as she almost cut off her path towards the table they were about to claim and dropped to a knee to greet the short looking cleric.

"Excuse me, sir, but you are just so terribly interesting! Where are you from? Where are your shoes? Did someone take them? I'm Tabatha! Do all of you not wear shoes?" She was very eager for answers.

[quintangible]

- The barmaid looks up as a new patron catches her attention. Cider, a popular request among the young people of the town and a specialty of the tavern. Altor doesn't come along often, usually much too busy at the farm. Special occasion? She does seem to have an aura of excitement about her. Bringing the stein to her, she notices the cleric table motioning for her. Much too busy to chat now, she thinks, but I'll have to ask her before she leaves. I'll hear rumors, aye, but I can't trust rumors these days...

- Sybill is taken aback by the halfling's remarks. "I apologize, I shouldn't expect so much from you so soon." She watches Ban look for the waitress and tries to hide a slight grin. "Surely you are weary from your journey. I should have fed you before discussing anything of importance. Of course, we're safe here, and the hauntings I only half believe. Even having been there myself, I'm not sure what's happening there. A handful of adventurers have passed through, and the ones that have entered have not returned. I like to think they were scared off rather than anything more... morbid. I can see that you hold the same distaste of the unliving as I. My husband knows more of the castle's history. Perhaps you could speak to him in the morning. I'm sure between Brand and ourselves we could rustle up some capable men to accompany you." Her eyes dart to the side as a young woman quickly approaches. "Or women, mayhap? Hello, are you new h-" The girl kneels and begins talking to her companion as though she were not there at all. Sybill has never been much for appearances or manners, but neither is she accustomed to being ignored so blatantly. She takes a deep breath as the two speak, willing to forgive as always. Especially if it could lead to a beneficial pairing for the tasks ahead. Her town needs help, she knows, and can ill afford to push any away over formalities.

- Glancing around from his conversation with the young man, sure that someone was trying to listen in for some reason, Brand sees a farm girl raise her stein to him. He raises his back out of custom, never quite comfortable with the attention his position attracts. He returns his attention to his companion and the plate of food before him.

- When the elf takes him by the arms, the taunting expression drops from the boy's face. Aus has always gotten away with much, as most kids do, but perhaps this stranger was the wrong person to tease. Panicked, he searches and finds his mother behind him. Immediately reassured, he turns back to face the elf. "Enough to know he can eat you in one bite! Not even a bite, he'd just swallow you whole!" "Hey Aus, is everything okay over here?" Apparently Altor, he'd stayed at her family's farm a few times, had walked up behind him. "Oh, yeah, just explaining dragon stuff. This guy doesn't know anything! Why don't you try to talk some sense into him?" Still not exactly comfortable in the situation, Aus slithers from the elf's grasp and resumes his path through the tavern. Only the toy dragon now stays in his arms, squeezed close

- The bard softly clears his throat, waits for what counts as a lull in the amalgam of conversations in the tavern, and strums a clear, loud note. He begins singing of love, a story he has been writing based on information he has gathered from the recent influx of adventurers. He has a talent for the job, as you can clearly make out the lyrics if you pay attention. If you don't, the song becomes a soft, pleasant backdrop to your discourse. He makes it seem easy, at that.

[LittleBlueNA]

As the boy and his dragon resume their rounds, Keloryn remains unmoving, a brief look of disappointment on his face. After a moment, his eyes shift to view the newcomer. He quickly takes in her garb and giant sword, before settling on her brown eyes. The wizard opens his mouth to speak, but a feeling of cool, fresh air pulls his attention away.

Curious eyes quickly scan the room and zero in on the commotion at Lady Sybill’s table. A tomboyish young woman kneels before the sole Halfling in the room, rattling off a stream of questions. Plainly dressed yet abundantly outfitted, a tangible enthusiasm radiates from her person.

As the bard’s music fills the room, a thought begins to grow in Keloryn’s mind. I wonder. So many threads beginning to vibrate all at once. Looking once more at each of the patrons in the room, his eyes finally come back to rest on the young woman in front of him. ”Interesting”, he states, as he turns back to his journal and begins writing again in earnest. Without pausing or looking up, he asks, ”Can you feel it?”

Journal Entry 17GZ04: Something is happening tonight. After years of chasing rumors and fruitless excursions, I may have found something extraordinary. There are ripples in the fabric of reality spreading from this small town, and a level of harmonic resonance unlikely to be attributable to chance and chaos. Half a dozen principal threads appear to be aligning. Destiny? Force of will? Divine intervention? Too much has occurred in too short a time-frame to identify a source.

[Svalin]

As Ban is engrossed in his discussion with Lady Sybill, He does not notice the young woman approaching him until a bombardment of questions startles him, causing him to turn and face her taking in her seeming inexhaustible supply of questions, only matched by the pocket space on her outfit. Ban reclines on his stool raising a single eyebrow but concludes the newcomer is genuine in her curiosity. "Well, I'm a halfling, my kind's feet have a tougher quality than most others, and we do not have many physical advantage as such I don't allow vanity to rob me of this minor advantage, I am but a traveler who was brought here by luck but where are my manners."

Ban turns to Lady Sybill with an apologetic flourish, "This is the gracious Lady Sybill. She has been kind enough to to introduce me to the town, Not being from here myself" Ban states, emphasizing the Lady and bowing in deference to her as he does so "She is married to the Lord Permberton, And I" He adds with a dramatic hand gesture "Am Ban Innot, Travelling cleric, and devoted worshiper of Desna, May she guide our travels and bring us good fortune and luck."

He ends the greeting in a much more serious tone, that others would not have thought this almost comedic halfling capable of, his smile gone supplanted by a visage of determination for a fraction of moment, before his face returns to a welcoming smile, as he gestures to the young lady and inquires "and by what name does an eager adventurer as yourself go by, and where do you hail from." As he finishes he placed his hands on the edge of the table awaiting a reply.

[GreatCthulhu]

Kerrick takes a long draw of ale as he looks around at the crowd in the Bleeder's common room, including the few new faces. "Heh. To some of these folk, I'm a new face. Good to see a few of the old lot, though." Catching Meredith's eye and holding up his newly empty flagon, he makes his way towards Lady Sybil. Seeing that her halfling companion is now speaking to a young woman kneeling in front of him, Kerrick clears his throat and says, "Begging pardon, Lady Sybil. I simply wanted to say hello. You are well, I hope?"

Meredith arrives with his refill, which he gladly accepts. "Thanks, Merry. Appreciated, as always." he says with a smile, handing her the empty and enough coins to pay for his rounds and a decent tip besides.

[Rainbow007]

Altor responds to the elf's​ question with just a raised eyebrow. She wasn't much of one for mystical rants, and he was approaching​ the obscure. He reminded her of a few friends of her late father's, mages were strange folk indeed.. But, they were also often a source of adventure. How many times​ had he told her of wizened old wizards having to hire him for some bauble guarded by skeletons?

Taking a deep breath, Altor decided the risk was worth it. Extending her free hand to the elf, she managed a slight smile. "Maybe we got off to the wrong foot. My name is Altor. What brings you to our fair village?"

[LittleBlueNA]

The brief gust of fresh air gone, the smell of food and drink settled over the room again. As Keloryn finishes his journal entry, he closes his eyes and recalls the past few minutes, looking for any details he missed. Mentally reconstructing events from a bird’s eye view, the wizard suddenly realizes what his behavior might have looked like, especially being a stranger to town. Ah, so that’s why this young woman approached me. Ezren’s beard, I don't want to earn a poor reputation here. Get a hold of yourself!

Her voice interrupting his increasingly panicked thoughts, Keloryn opens his eyes to see a hand extended out to him. Awkwardly jumping to his feet, the wizard takes her hand in what he considers to be a firm handshake. ”Pleasure to meet you Altor. My name is Keloryn. I apologize for my behavior, I sometimes get carried away… or distracted...”

Quickly releasing her hand, Keloryn fiddles briefly with his clothing, brushing off invisible dust and smoothing out unseen wrinkles. The bard’s music threatens to pull the wizard back into his earlier ruminations, until he remembers that Altor had asked him a question. ”Ah, right. Why I’m here. There are several reasons, really. Although I wouldn't want to bore you with the particulars of my research, have you heard anything about a dragon nearby?”

[Vodka Slushy]

Tabatha was engrossed, yet her youth betrayed her ability to keep her attention on a single matter at a time. She had so many questions to follow up about halfings and their culture. Those of such stature much do so many common thing so differently! Were their gardens smaller? What do they ride of not horses? Do they have to make bigger shoes? Do they all even wear shoes at all?

The onslaught of inquiries bouncing between the walls of Tabatha's head were diminished at the introduction of Lady Sibil. She'd heard of the Pembleton name before, and even of the Lady herself, but not much beyond the idea that she existed and was important to the people of this region. However, not more than a courteous nod was cast towards the Lady as the flourish of hands that accompanied Ban's introduction once again regained her studious eye.

After being begged her name, Tabatha struggled to attain a coherent train of thought as her filterless words ushered out, "Tabatha! And who is Desna? Is he... wait she? Are they a God! In my town they worshiped Gorum, or at least they all had to say his name a bunch during their pledges and trials. It was all so droll. Gorum was boring, anyway, always single minded," she took a deep breath to continue her long winded response as she unconsciously shifted to be sitting on the floor, "and my father was never religious anyway. Oh, hey! Do you know any dwarves? My father and I used to look through old dwarf stuff, but I've never met one. I can read some of their stuff but I could never use any of their runes or anything. Can you use runes? Oh goodness, are you magic? That would be so terribly interesting."

With a twinge of the little wisdom she had, Tabatha realized she was spouting on and on, she curtailed with one more question while fiddling with the frayed ends of her cloak, "And uh, oh, Lady? Were you saying something about ghosts? Are they real?"

The young girl sat, arms back and propping her up, yet still on the dirty floor. Quite accustomed to not having seating room in her home of raising or at the halls meant for the boys her age to have taken up, her curious eyes bore upwards awaiting answers and completely unaware at just how peculiar it was to everyone around her.

[quintangible]

- Working with the nimbleness gained from nightly repetition, Meredith places a bowl of soup before the halfling and a fizzing beverage that smells of honey in the hands of the ranger. She pockets a tip and is back behind the bar without drawing any focus away from the ongoing conversation. The way the girl was going on, it would have been difficult to draw much attention from her anyway. Still, she was proud of her work and was sure the halfling would enjoy the night's meal, bitter boiled camel cooked in Humble Hawk Mead.

- Sybill, still taking in the sudden arrival of the strange girl, is startled by the ranger's question. She had not heard him approach, which should not be surprising, she reminds herself, considering his training and the noise of the tavern. "I am doing well, ranger. Another visit to your family, or would you perhaps be available for a task?" "...ghosts? Are they real?" The Lady catches the end of the girl's questions, notices Ban looking at her as well as the ranger, and thanks Erastil that she has their attention. For surely he must have a hand in these three people so well-suited to the task convening on the same night. The halfling almost knocks his bowl over, finally noticing that the barmaid must have delivered it, and begins to eat as he waits for her response. "Are ghosts real? Almost assuredly. Are there ghosts in the castle? It's difficult to know for sure. There are stories from before I was born of something chasing the Pembertons of the time away, leading to the building of the keep we now occupy. There are rumors of treasure and artifacts hastily left behind in the move. There are reports of adventurers entering and never being seen again. So, is it truly a ghost? It could just as easily be a bear. But there is usually some truth to stories and rumors, and I've never felt comfortable going anywhere near the place. I suppose superstitions have their own power. Even though I manage the temple and work with healers, I have never claimed to be talented in divination or to have holy powers such as yourself, Ban Innot. Still, I feel there is something wrong in that place. If it could be cleansed, if we could reclaim our heritage and rightful home, we would gladly reward you for your assistance, starting with your tabs tonight and rooms upstairs." She pauses a few seconds to let her request sink in, then sensing that the talkative girl may start up soon adds, "I would feel better if you found one or two others to go with you. I would send a handful of guards, but we only have a few in our small village. I suppose you should have several questions. I will answer what I can."

- The bard continues his song, now lamenting betrayal.

[Svalin]

Ban takes a moment to process what he has been said. Although never considering himself a hero, He considered that it seemed very lucky that he had been brought the this location at this time, Seeing perhaps the hand of Desna behind these events. He has never been keen of facing creatures of the night, but understands those who with the training and knowledge must take responsibility and face such threats as they arise.

Ban swallows a mouthful, makes eye contact with Lady Sybill and proclaims "I do not believe it chance that I have arrived her, I of course will pleased to offer my aid in this task."

Taking a moment to regard the others who have approached during the conversation Ban continues "However It is unlikely I would be successful if I were to attempt a cleansing on my own, As much as a trust in Desna to guide me."

Ban speedily returns to his food awaiting the others to share their thoughts on the proposed task. Also after making note that his tab would be covered, He signals to the Barmaid, Thanking her for bringing a fresh mug of cider to accompany the meal, draining it with an efficiency that would have made a dwarf proud.

[Rainbow007]

Altor gave a slight shrug and took a swig of her cider. "Sure, I've heard about the dragon but..can't really say I've heard much more than it exists. Or maybe it doesn't, who knows. Maybe it's just some rumor to scare people. Would be great if it was a dragon though..." And with that, she loosened her pack and sword and let them fall next to the seat she moved into across from Keloryn, causing an audible Thunk! to echo even over the bard's singing. The sword that leaned against her chair was by no means a finely crafted weapon, really it was much closer to a sharpened slab of iron with a stick stuck on the end. But every knick and gouge in the steel was a story of her father using it, and she wouldn't have anything else in her hands right now. Resting one hand on the end of the hilt, Altor finished off her cider and raised her stein to catch Meredith's attention, the farmgirl seemingly unaware of any disturbance she may have caused.