(group 1) Chapter 1: Of Things Long Past

Jona smiles obligingly at the drummer, "Well go ahead and invite him over! I'd love to chat him up. You two and the feller with the pipes will all have a round waiting for ya."

When the drummer is out of earshot, he once again turns to his comrades, "I think I may've spoke too soon. Be sure to take note. An feel free to ask questions."

Jona then turns to the bartender, "Barkeep, another round for the band. And, my fine sire, do you have a private place to chat in this fine establishment? I fear prying ears to coarse and hearty language."

"Thanks I will." Garn heads over to the other friend from the tower. Happy to see a familiar face. Deciding to get his first drink of the night orders two and goes over to the table. " Well a friendly face, can I buy you a drink?" Garn lifts the beer to give to him while still waiting for an answer.

Dice Roll: 1d20z
d20 Results: 12
Diplomacy (12)

Helping himself to a bowl of the hot chicken stew and some of the bread, Ezryn dips the latter into the former and then takes a bite out of the bread made soggy by the stew. Letting out a soft sigh of contentment, Ezryn fishes out several of the chunks of chicken with the remainder of the bread and glances down at the wolf who sits by the chair and places his head upon the table. His smile made wider by the image, Ezryn places the bread and chicken where the wolf could reach it and watches as it snaps it up in one bite before he turns his attention to the serving girl. ”I've eaten here a time or two during the summer season, I have a home nearby though I don't spend much time there in the winter seasons. It's quite possible you have seen me here though my friend generally attracts a little more attention.” His smile is one of amusement as he extends a hand to the woman in greeting. ”My name is Ezryn, Ranger and wanderer of these beautiful lands. May I ask your name?”

The drummer waves the fiddle player over. He walks over and joins him and Jona at the bar, swaying a bit, clearly a touch intoxicated already.

"Heya fellas," he says. "Nice work with that chant there. So, what's goin' on?"

"Our friend here's interested in knowing more about the marshes," the drummer says. "Seein' as how you're the only one in here I know's been there any substantial amount of time, figured you might be able to enlighten him."

"Hmm, Fuar Dubh's not for the faint-hearted," the fiddler says, turning to Jona. "Not many people interested in going there, can't say's I blame 'em. Whatcha want t'know friend?"


The other mage jumps a little when Garn comes over, as if he were lost in thought.

"Why, er, thanks, Brother," the mage says. "Don't see many other mages outside the tower. I like to get out sometimes; the walls there can be stifling to my spirit. What brings you here on a night like this?"


"Ezryn? Can't say I've heard your name before. But it is a big city, can't know everyone," the serving girl says. "You can call me Ella. Can't say as I've seen many folks with a wolf for a pet. What are you doing here on a night like this?" She says, eyeing the polished armor and crest.

Feeding the wolf a chunk of chicken fished from the bowl with another slice of bread, Ezryn takes a spoon to the meal and takes several mouthfuls of the warm food – savouring the feeling as it travels down his throat and warms his stomach – before leaning back on the chair and answering the questions. ”The winter seasons are upon us once more, my friend and I are about to return to the wilds but with the snowfall to be heavy this night and into the early morning, we decided to take our rest here in the warmth of your establishment and enjoy a hot meal before long cold nights and the danger of adventure became our companion for the time ahead.”

Jona smiles at the fiddler graciously, handing him a drink as he says, "Oh, this and that. Places to avoid, places to seek out. Who is friendly, who most certainly isn't. Anything to help me get through there with as many of me fingers and toes as I started with."

He laughs, hoping the others will along with him as he slides the other drinks to the drummer and the piper when they come within reach. Jona scratches his chin thoughtfully as he adds, "On what business were you through that area, might I ask?"

As Garn takes a seat while passing him the beer speaks "Well I never get out of the tower and this is my first time in a tavern. As for what I'm doing its official business, but I really shouldn't talk about it. Cheers." Garn raises his glass to the man. "It is good to have a break from studying. What an interesting place."

Garn has to be honest, its his flaw.

"Hmm, fair enough," Ella says with a sweet smile. "I hope you enjoy your stay tonight, m'lord. And good luck with your business. 'Tis a...dangerous time to be traveling the wilds." With that, she goes back to serving the other customers.


"I were trying to find a permanent path through the place," the fiddler said. "They say roads don't stay for long, what with the changing seasons - ices and thaws, flooding, and whatnot. But I think there's more to it. Place seems to defy navigation. 'T ain't natural. Y'know, they say them marshes is the site of an ancient battle, long ago, betwixt no one knows who really. Maybe Old Drenheim warring with each other, or the tribes of old before that, who knows. But mark my words, a fell power holds sway over that place. Best watch yer step if you go there.

"As far as I know, ain't no one fool enough to make their home in them swamps, 'cept the beasties of course. Hags, hydras, slimes, spiders, ice toads and the like. Odd goblin war party now and then. If you've a good navigator, you might avoid such trouble altogether. All the same, make sure you're well stocked with weapons and other gear. Any trek in there's likely to be nasty. Avoid the winter witch, the marzanna called Dorcha. Never seen 'er meself, but if the tales be true, she's a force to be reckoned with in them swamps.

If you stop in that little hamlet just afore ye get into the swamps, be on yer guard, some queer folk livin' there. Probably livin' in the shadow of Fuar Dubh's addled their brains a tad. Not a dangerous place, just...odd. I'd sleep their with the doors and windows locked, if you know what's good for you. Now that's all the advice I got fer ya, methinks...thinkin' about that place is not a happy thing for a cold night." With that he hides his face in a deep mug of ale.


"Yes, yes, quite interesting," the mage says quickly. "Official business in a tavern? How...interesting. Yes, quite interesting. Of course, I won't ask you any more about it, it must be quite important. Yes, yes...well, now, if you excuse me...quite tired, time for sleep, and all, you know?" The mage downs the rest of his wine almost instantly and shuffles quickly up the stairs and out of sight.

Jona commits what he had gathered from the fiddler to memory as best he could and then says, "I thank you for your fair warning. If it were up to me, I wouldn't go, but...obligations..."

He smiles warmly at the fiddler and the other musicians, and allows conversation to carry a bit, before eventually bringing up the one part of the fiddler's story that irked him, "That hamlet...the odd one. I promise I won't bring it up again, but what makes that place so odd? Is there a strong presence of some sort of guild or...society that is abrasive towards outsiders?"

Though he is invested in remaining charming and energized to get information, the Jona does start to feel some heaviness in his eyelids. He keeps his lips firmly together as he chokes back a yawn.

" Well good night then." Garn drinks the rest of his beer at the table enjoying the festivities. when his drink is almost done joins the others from the group. He orders one more beer and nurses it for awhile before turning in. Knowing its going to be an early start and he must get up early to read his spell book as well.


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