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Act Two: Hush now...


8w_gremlin

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The journey resumes, leading you deeper into the forest. Soon, a large stone pillar emerges from the dense foliage, its entire length etched with ancient dwarven runes. This majestic marker signifies the boundary of the peaceful village of Hush. As you cross beyond this stone sentinel, a subtle sensation washes over you—like the gentle pop of a bubble—and suddenly, the ambient sounds of friendly chatter intensify. The Sablewood trees continue to loom around, yet the air here feels unmistakably safe and comforting.

Entering the village, you notice a few villagers turn their heads, their faces lighting up with smiles. They wave and offer warm greetings as your carriage rolls through. Lively music wafts towards you from the tavern at the village centre, inviting and full of promise. Amidst this welcoming atmosphere, you remember your mission: to find the Whitefire Arcanist and deliver the King's package. This task at hand guides your next steps as you delve further into the heart of Hush.

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token_1.png.26f3c40083f39a76adc86a9889eb87a4.pngEllu Minayum

Evasion: 9 | Armor Score: 3 |

Armor Slots ☐ ☐ ☐ ☐ ☐ ☐ | HP ☐ ☐ ☐ ☐ ☐ ☐ | Stress ▣ ☐ ☐ ☐ ☐ ☐ |

Hope ▣ ▣ ☐ ☐ ☐ ☐

Passive: Arcane Sense (class)

Reactions: Luckbender (per session)

Token actions this combat: 0


 

Ellu checked his ears at the slight popping sensation. They hadn't moved too high for pressure to shift, had they? Probably not worth dwelling on. Find the arcanist, deliver the package, and find the next thing to distract from worries left unspoken.

Finding a pliable ear in a new place was something Ellu was more than familiar with. He tapped Kimber on the shoulder to slow enough he could disembark, and used a practiced eye to find a lingering gaze that wasn't guarded, then deployed one of Toosum's old standard strategies for sliding into welcome.

"Oh but you look familiar, at least from the stories I've heard. I think we've an old friend in common, as it were, and I'm hoping you can help me find them. Any idea where the Whitefire Arcanist is lazing about today?"

 

((OOC: burning a Hope to add +2 from Ellu's "We have an old friend in common" Experience on a Presence roll to try and sweet talk folks into pointing us to the Arcanist. Looks like 26 with Fear. So close to a crit...

 

EDIT 2: Ellu's Arcane Sense class ability should confirm if the stone pilars are magical. It doesn't appear to need a roll or anything, so I think he just gets some kind of buzz whenever anyone or anything around him is magic.))

 

Presence with experience))

Edited by jkason
Adding result info / arcane sense query (see edit history)
Name
Presence with experience
26
2d12+3 11,12
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image.jpeg.dbac7386b5860c5120a992f8d32292af.jpeg
A:+1 | S:+2 | F:+0 | I:-1 | P:+1 | K:+0
Hope ••○○○ Stress •○○○○○
Evasion 3 Hit Points ○○○○○○
Armor 8 Armor •○○○○○

It had been nearly a dozen years since Verris travelled to Hush. The memory of the place was thin and faded. In fact, they hadn't realized yet that they arrived at Hush until they passed through the boundary, and only then did the feeling connect with the old memories. This was Hush.

There might have been people that they had met earlier, but no one that they could recall. Would the people of this village remember their last visit, or would it have been so long ago that memories had been forgotten. The friendly waves seemed genuine, but no one seemed to know them well enough. Verris returned their waves and greetings.

The feeling of safety was welcome, the friendliness was relaxing, and Verris dropped their intense watchfulness. This was a safe space and friends were waiting to be made. Verris approached with Ellu, only to find that he already had friends here.

 

 

Edited by solyrflair (see edit history)
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Posted (edited)

An older woman with a thick greying hair, and the hint of fine downy sideburns, balancing the barrel effortlessly on her shoulder, beams at Ellu with a warm smile. "Alright my luver, what a pleasure it is to chat with new faces! Lausa the name, Lausa Stalwind" She stands there and looks up at Ellu "You probably know my cousin Evard, he went off with a lovely fae girl not two summers ago" She seems lost in the moment before looking down at your arms and armour.

"But tell me, before we get into any serious business, let's indulge in a bit of chinwag about those fine tools of the trade you've got there. What are the names of your weapons, and who was skilled enough to forge such beauties?"

Her eyes twinkle with unabated curiosity as she eagerly waits to listen to each party member. "And the year, don't skip on that—every mark on a blade tells a story, doesn’t it? There’s nothing quite like a good tale of metal and fire to stir the soul!" Lausa’s enthusiasm for the history and details of each weapon is infectious, clearly showing her deep appreciation for the art of weapon making.

Finally, seeing that you’re all just as engaged, she leans in closer, lowering her voice with a conspiratorial wink. "Now, about that Whitefire Arcanist you’re looking for, last I saw, they were cosied up by the fire in the tavern. Might still be there, lost in a pint or perhaps a page. You can probably catch them if you hurry—but don’t forget to tell him Lausa sent you, alright my luver?"

Edited by 8w_gremlin (see edit history)
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Ivy's eyes flickered as the elderly woman spoke. The unexpected enthusiasm for weapons and their tales was sudden but curious. Personally, Ivy had always preferred to keep her tools simple and unassuming, but as she listened to her companions talk about their own weapons, she couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity herself.

When it was her turn, she hesitated for a moment. Sharing personal details, especially about her tools of the trade, was a new and somewhat uncomfortable experience.

However, the warmth in Lausa's eyes and the genuine interest she showed made it easier for Ivy to open up, if only a little.

"I don't name my tools," she began slowly. "To me, they're just a means to an end. A lockpick's a lockpick, and a blade's a blade." She shrugged, a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "As for who made them, I couldn't tell you. Most of my gear is... acquired along the way."

She glanced down at her belt, where a set of sleek, well-used lockpicks rested in a small leather pouch. Her dagger, a simple but finely crafted piece with a black hilt, was tucked securely at her side, while the magic one was well hidden and not to be discussed. "These have served me well," she said, patting the pouch lightly. "They've opened a lot of doors—sometimes literally."

The mention of the Whitefire Arcanist returned her attention to more important things. Delivering the package was their primary objective, and she was eager to complete it. Ivy gave Lausa a nod of thanks. "Thanks for the tip," she said. "We'll be sure to mention your name."

With a quick glance at her companions, she gestured toward the village center. "Let's find this Whitefire Arcanist," she suggested. "The sooner we deliver this package, the better."

The bustling village around them was inviting, but Ivy knew better than to let her guard down completely. Even in a place as seemingly safe as Hush, danger could lurk just around the corner. But for now, she embraced the warm atmosphere and the promise of a new challenge ahead.

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spacer.png
Yhen Davasdrend

Agility +1

Strength -1

Finesse +1

Instinct +0

Presence +0

Knowledge +2

Evasion: 9 | Armour: 5 | Armour Slots ☐ ☐ ☐ ☐ ☐ ☐ ☐| HP ☐ ☐ ☐ ☐ ☐ ☐ | Stress ☐ ☐ ☐ ☐ ☐ | Hope ☐ ☐ ☐
Breastplate Armour | Greatstaff | Glowing Rings | Scholar of Magic (+2) | Wilderness Expert (+1)

Domain Effects
Book of Ava
Book of Tyfar

Features
Prestidigitation
Strange Patterns [1]

School of War (Knowledge)
• Gain armour slot.
Attack with Fear, deal +1d10

Daemon
Fearless
Dread Visage

Loreborne
Well-Read
 


Yhen lets the others handle the talking while she checks out the area itself. She's not inherently a suspicious person, but after the last little encounter, she wanted to be sure.

She gives Verris a 'just keep an eye out' look as she does.

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

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Kurith smiles at the old woman, twirling his halberd expertly before removing the leather sheath from its head. It's definitely got some history to it, though it is by no means ornamented. Still, it is in fine condition, the only defects being a couple of chips on the cutting edge.

"Da al'ays called this un <Swift Judgement Against Avarice>. 'S been i' th' family fo' five gen'rations - th' head, a' least. Handle's been replaced of'en 'nough."

He then bangs his gauntlets together, making their runes light up.

"The twins etn't ol' 'nough ta earn names yet. Less'n a year ol', an' only seen combat yest'day. An' I's no' a poet, so prolly won't be naught a' int'res'in nor fancy a' <Judgement>. 'Twill pro'lly be a fine name i' th' end, though."

He gently taps his fingers together, deactivating them before pulling them off.

"I' th' meanwhile, a pint a plain sounds won'erful. Mayhaps a fine lass servin' it, too?"

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Lausa Stalwind's eyes light up with admiration as she discusses weaponry with Kurith, thoroughly impressed by his expertise. "Should any of your fine weapons ever suffer a nick or scrape, just bring them my way," she offers generously, a twinkle in her eye. "But I must be off now—the lads upstairs are waiting for another barrel on the third floor."

As the party approaches the Clover Tavern, they are greeted by the remarkable sight of a six-story structure winding around the trunk of an ancient tree. This bustling hub of the community resonates with the sounds of lively music and hearty laughter, welcoming all who enter.

Inside, a humanoid clank accompanied by a small fox-bat gestures towards a sign that reads, "Shoes off, no exceptions." It seems that this is a local tradition for newcomers to remove their shoes and hang them on a line that spans the bar’s ground floor, adding a quirky charm to the warm and inviting atmosphere.

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image.jpeg.dbac7386b5860c5120a992f8d32292af.jpeg
A:+1 | S:+2 | F:+0 | I:-1 | P:+1 | K:+0
Hope ••○○○ Stress •○○○○○
Evasion 3 Hit Points ○○○○○○
Armor 8 Armor •○○○○○

The village was a pleasant return to civility after the wild attack by the Thistle-born. Verris felt they could take a relaxed deep inhale. They had a job to do, a package to deliver, and they were certain that the group could complete the task.

"I don't trust swords anymore. Too much craftwork that can fail much too easily. I prefer something not forged, but cast, a simpler task. This was cast by the young crafter Jujilen back near my home," Verris held out the mace, a simple hand weapon that was a shaped piece of iron attached to the top of a wooden shaft. It didn't have a makers mark because it wasn't completed by a master crafter, and honestly, didn't require mastery to make this weapon.

But Verris wasn't willing to go into details about their life. There wasn't a short story, and the long version wasn't appropriate for the moment. Plus there was still work to be done, as implied by the head nod from Yhen. She was right, there was still more to be accomplished, and relaxing too much could be foolish in the moment.

"Thank you for the welcome. It is a relief after the dangers of the road. But there is still work to be done, and we shouldn't delay long. We will have more time once this is complete, and we can share better stories when the task is complete, Madame Lausa," Verris said to the older woman.

Then Verris took the lead of bringing the group to the supposed tavern, but was focused on the village itself, looking for potential threats to the group. Someone probably wanted to prevent this item reaching the Whiteface Arcanists.

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token_1.png.26f3c40083f39a76adc86a9889eb87a4.pngEllu Minayum

Evasion: 9 | Armor Score: 3 |

Armor Slots ☐ ☐ ☐ ☐ ☐ ☐ | HP ☐ ☐ ☐ ☐ ☐ ☐ | Stress ▣ ☐ ☐ ☐ ☐ ☐ |

Hope ▣ ▣ ☐ ☐ ☐ ☐

Passive: Arcane Sense (class)

Reactions: Luckbender (per session)

Token actions this combat: 0


 

Ellu was happy to let the more martial members of the party share the details of their weapons to entertain their information source. No one wanted to hear it's a stick with crystals and it sparks a lot, after all.

At the tavern, Ellu shrinks a bit at the sign. Well, when in Hush... He slips his boots off, his digitigrade legs and clawed feet exposed now without obfuscation from footware.

"Okay, let's find this fellow and get this done," Ellu said, drawing his cloak to draw darker shadows around his feet.

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CloverTavern.jpg.1c7da8b640a3ddb2cb3b25e4f44e870e.jpgThe Clover Tavern

As the party stands and looks at the Clover Tavern, the six-story building wrapped around the tree, the clank once again gestures towards a sign that reads, "Shoes off, no exceptions." It is a local tradition for newcomers to remove their shoes and hang them on a line that spans the bar’s main floor, adding a quirky charm to the warm and inviting atmosphere. The fox-bat yawns and stretches its wings.

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Kurith looks down. He's not wearing shoes. It's kind of hard to do that when you have cloven hooves for feet. Instead, he looks around for a scraper that such establishments usually have, to work the marl and debris out so he doesn't track in. Once he was satisfied, he strode in, his footfalls making hefty clops as he made his way to the bar.

"Pint of plain, if'n ye please."

He lays his payment on the hard wood with a satisfying clack before looking around for any fair maidens he could possibly impress with his dashing good looks and chiseled physique. Though, the rest of you know there's also a decent chance that he'll just wind up making a fool of himself.

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"Arr, Outsiders you be, nice to see a new face, We have Old Thumper, a strong ale, well it's not that strong, it's just what and all it be called.
we have Sixpenny Best, a nice Session Ale not too strong, something you can drink all day, and still get a good night's work done, if you know what I mean. oh, and we have Criple Cock scrumpy cider, as well as some peaty whiskeys from up north. So what will yea be having then"


The barman looks down at the coins "I'd recommend the Old Thumper, Maisy get this fine gentleman a pint of Thumper, do you want a straight or a handle?" you see him start to reach up to a rack of handelled pewter tankards hanging from hooks in the ceiling of the bar.

"So you here for the festival?"

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"We are here to see Whitefire Arcanist". Ivy did not allow herself to be distracted. She left her little boots at the entrance and now periodically glanced back to be sure no one mistook them for some doll's clothes and took them away.

Finally, curiosity got the better of her and stopped guarding the boots and asked. "You have a festival?"

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"We're currently celebrating the Firstmoss Festival—the time when the new crops in the Sunless Farms have the first layer of moss growing upon them, meaning they’re beginning to ripen for the season. It’s a celebration of spring's arrival and the abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables the town will soon have. There is a good-natured arm wrestling competition, a stone-painting class, and a small marketplace full of homemade trinkets if you're interested" The barman looks expectantly at Ivy as if he's waiting to be told something...

He waits just in case then adds "The Arcanist is quite busy at the moment, but if you’ve travelled so far, I’m sure she’ll be more than hospitable. We would be lost without her. She keeps this whole place under a powerful ward so that no dangers from the Sablewood can pass into town. You’ll find her house to the south, through the farmland. It’s hanging from one of the old Sablewood trees, you can’t miss it."

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