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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Pedestrian" data-source="post: 3614864" data-attributes="member: 40208">Session 2: Drellin's Ferry, an old man, and a problem with "Snakes"The Dawn Way broadened and dipped, like a stony twin to the slow moving river Elsir it ran alongside. The companions smelt wood smoke ahead and could glimpse a few homes already, along with tiny skiffs tied up on the broad river. They quickened their pace, looking forward to some much needed refreshment and relaxation before heading off to the Witchwood.“Ho there, travellers,” called a mail clad human, a broad shouldered fellow with a waxed moustache, his voice crisp, bordering on refinement but with a hard edge all the same. At his back stood three other guardsmen, brandishing crossbows at Marduk. “Hold! State your business for bringing monsters to this peaceable town!” His sword was drawn, but lowered. He approached the group.Marduk hunched low, attempting to appear less massive, less threatening, while his allies stepped to the front. Marcus glowered at the crossbowmen, his inner eye already marshalling the energies needed to boil the flesh from their bones. Tom took the initiative “Now my lambs, there’s no need for weapons. We’re just passing through on our way, making a stop-over.”“Aye, well, be that as it may, we of Drellin’s Ferry have our own have enough troubles without monsters walking in our midst.” The moustachioed man’s gaze flicked to the gnoll, who was attempting – and failing – to smile in a placatory fashion, baring yellowed fangs.“Monster? No, that’s our friend, Marduk. He won his freedom defending a village south of here. Gathic, you see.”“Hmm. Well, if you’ll vouch for it, then I’ll let you pass into our village. But” and he fixed each member of the group with a flinty stare “I’ll want your word that it’ll cause no trouble in this village, and that he does not go about unescorted.” Tom assented, and the guard motioned for the others to stand down. Nervous, they did as ordered.“Do you know of a place we might stay in the village?” Asked Tom, the previously tense situation already forgotten by the garrulous dwarf.“Well, there’s the Old Bridge, a fine watering hole. You might prefer the Green Apple though,” he cast a meaningful glance at Marduk, “it’s less pricey. But the Bridge is the better place, I’d say.”“Well, thank you.” Tom turned to the rest of the group. “Off to the Old Bridge it is then boys. I’d quite fancy a beer!”Sir Tarnus paused a moment with the gate guard. He exchanged some small talk with the man, learning that he was a Sergeant Hersk. The templar discussed the growing Goblin problem, and finished off by shaking hands with the Sergeant, and wishing him luck, before joining the others at the Bridge.He arrived to find his three compatriots at the bar, already swigging ale and disturbing the patrons. Tom and Marcus seemed to be having a heated debate with the barkeep, a middle-aged Halfling. Marduk was again hunkering down, trying to occupy as little space as possible. Tarnus noted then that most of the staff seemed to be of that breed, though the Inn itself was sized for larger folk. Ah, he amended as he approached the bar, experimentally twisting one of the stools. The furniture was adjustable for those of smaller stature. He took in the patrons, mostly humans, merchants and their ilk by dress, though one or two travelling sorts, adventurers with little regard for a fine suit, but much esteem for a comfortable rest.“I’m afraid I can’t be having a marsh dog sleeping in my rooms” said the Halfling. “My other guests just wouldn’t be having it. It’s a charity that I’ll let it stay in my stable.”“Charity? Two gold is a lot to call it charity!” Replied Tom.“Two gold?” Cut in Tarnus. He knew if he let Tom have his say, things might escalate. He reached one mailed hand into his belt pouch, producing eight coins. “That’ll see for us all then.” He handed the coin over with a perfunctory smile. He pause, producing another “and some green tea as well.”“Well, so long as you’re paying, I’ll have another drink!”The door to the Old Bridge opened, and the inn-keeper looked up, and straightened immediately. “Speaker Wiston, Captain Soranna, a pleasure. What brings you to my establishment?” The Halfling motioned to one of the servants, a younger Halfling woman with a familial resemblance.“Oh, no, no Kellin, we won’t be staying long.” Speaker Wiston’s voice was pipe smoke thick, each word weighed before utterance. “I am here to speak with these gentlemen,” he bowed to the group. “Good eve to you, sirs. I am Norro Wiston, Town Speaker for Drellin’s Ferry, and this is Guard Captain Soranna Anita. We were informed of your arrival by Sergeant Hersk – I understand there was some discussion at his post – and the Captain and I wished to come and speak with you.”“Well,  we’re listening, but be quick. My beer’ll start feeling neglected.” Said Tom, a broad grin on his face as he gripped his cup in two thick hands.“Perhaps if we could discuss this more discreetly. In one of Master Kellin’s booths?”Once they were all seated discreetly away from the other patrons, and Tom had stopped mumbling about spilt beer, and all this walking being no good on his short legs (Speaker Wiston, to his credit, remedied the first with a round, and tactfully declined comment on the second) Norro continued.“As you are no doubt already know, we have been having some trouble here at Drellin’s Ferry, with goblin raiders” Norro paused to take a deep gulp from his cup before continuing “not your usual band of marauders, fit to be scared at the first drawing of blades, either. Seems like a fair sized warband have moved into the Witchwood, north of here. You look like capable sorts. We were hoping you could look into this for the town.” Speaker Wiston’s gaze fell imploringly on Sir Tarnus.“Well, as I see it” spoke Tom, pausing a moment to stifle a belch, “you’ve asked for our help, and we’d be right nasty ones to say no. We’ll clear out your forest for you, my lamb. Besides” here he flashed a mischievous grin “I hates goblins.” The Speaker and Guard Captain Soranna were both taken aback by this sudden agreement. They looked to the other members of the party, who nodded agreement to the dwarf’s pronouncement..“Before we set off, would it be possible for you to provide us with some information on the situation?” Sir Tarnus kept his gaze level with the Speaker’s own, but more as a reassurance than any attempt to intimidate the man. “Has anyone else gone in to try and deal with these goblins? Do you have any idea of the size of their forces?”The Speaker paused before answering, his eyes rolling up in thought “We’ve sent – what? – ten of our finest into the Witchwood, though only one made it back and… she did not survive. What we could glean from her ramblings before the end… a tribe perhaps a hundred strong has infested the Witchwood, probably having crossed over from the Skull Gorge Pass. She also mentioned” Norro gulped visibly “some sort of necromantic curse overtaking the old keep.”“Hmm. It seems likely then that we head to this Skull Gorge, to investigate,” Tarnus considered “Is there any aid you could offer us before we set out?”“I’ll speak with the wise in out village” Soranna replied “we’re a small township, but we have some means. Whatever I can gather, I will bring to you midday tomorrow. Is that agreeable?” The knight nodded his assent.“We gathered a pair of magical blades earlier. Is there anyone in Drellin’s Ferry who could help us unravel their dweomers?”“Sertieren the Wise. He lives in a mansion overlooking the river. You can’t miss it.”The Speaker and the Captain arose, but Soranna hesitated a moment longer. “Venturing into the Witchwood has always been a risky venture, but even moreso now, and you’ll need to pass through to get to Skull Gorge. You’d be wise to seek out Jorr, last of the verderers around these parts. You can find him on the Witch Trail – it goes right across it – or, if you come off the Dawn Way you’ll find a turning about nine miles from the edge.”“Many thanks.” Sir Tarnus saluted, and Soranna returned the gesture before departing.“Ah, that’s the way.” Chuckled Tom as he thought on one of his favourite teachings – true strength comes in aiding others to find their own – before downing his pint. “Why don’t we all go and check out that Apple. I’ve got a bit of a thirst on.” Only Tarnus declined, instead deciding to seek out Sertieren and have the swords identified.</blockquote>

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