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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Rhun" data-source="post: 5006182" data-attributes="member: 29098">[sblock=For Mark Chance/Bellus Mughandle]It has been a long journey to Hommlet in search of Mick Silverblade. Some Five days to Dyvers from Greyhawk City, and another twelve (or was it thirteen?) to Hommlet, part of which was through the dark woods of the Gnarley Forest, and some through the rugged Kron Hills. Still, the way has been fairly easy, by road and track, though the long days of marching are more than Bellus is used to. The autumn weather hasn’t exactly been cooperative either, being cool and wet, and the dirt roads have been wet mud much of the time. Bellus’ muscles are sore, and he breathes a sigh of relief when he begins passing the outlying farms and orchards of Hommlet around sundown. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to sleep on the ground, in the shelter of a tree or such again tonight. A few miles further down the road and the buildings of Hommlet proper begin to sprout up to the sides of the road like stalks of corn, ready to harvest. At the center of the village Bellus finds a beckoning sight: The Inn of the Welcome Wench. The sign out front of the buxom wench holding flagons of overflowing ale calls to him, and moments later the dwarf finds himself opening the door into the taproom, and kicking the mud off his boots.The taproom is large, with a high ceiling, supported by natural tree trunk pillars, dark with smoke and age. A fire burns merrily in a massive stone fireplace at the back of the place. Rough hewn tables and chairs fill the place, though few of them are taken this night. A chubby man stands behind the bar, wiping glasses and talking with a few farmers. A couple of merchants and their guards eat supper at one table. And a blonde serving wench is talking to another group of folk, who have the look of adventurers and mercenaries to them. Four humans and an elf, all male; Bellus’ practiced eye sums them up quickly…two appear to be warriors of some sort, while one of the humans and the elf appear to be arcane casters, and the last human a cleric, perhaps? Yes, that was certainly the symbol of Pelor proudly displayed around the man’s neck…[/sblock]</blockquote>

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