Dolemwood

Bern

We traveled further towards the southwest, but ended up walking in circles. I made the best of it and hunted up a small fox. There wasn’t enough left for a hat.

Later on we encountered two groups of four strange walkers. We evaded them and watched the two groups meet up and become a circle of eight. They headed off in a new direction together, one close to a weird magnetic pull we were all feeling. We went in the same general direction, figuring it might be a pull leading us towards the hag’s lair.

Session map

Bern

We sold the smurf balls and devil’s grease to the herbalist Wyrmspittle for about 50 gp. u-Heury somehow showed up while we were there, asking about herbs of a rather more delicate nature. He was a normal size again by then, and we introduced him around to the new folks and vice versa. I made some inquiries about setting up a trade in fashion garb on Oscar’s behalf, he’ll want to try to take advantage of the trade opportunity in selling Aster’s works in Prigswort.

Bern

We went to the Wrinkled Medley to further the investigation into Mr. Klepp. My finely tailored weatherproof cloak and an outlandish haircut got me in past the generally hoity-toity doorman. The bard Hugh was auditioning for a musical act of some time, and the rest of us were tagging along to get information

One of the guests, Mr Wyrmspittle, mentioned Mr Klepp, noting that he had been unwell and not getting out much. The guest, who owns a herbalist shop (#9), mentioned that Klepp lives near his shop (at #21). I promised him first right to purchase any grey poupon seeds, which I described as a type of mustard seed particularly suited for crustless sandwiches, in return for the information.

Snyfez

I’m going to need some more parchment and twine to properly chronicle all these clues- man this party needed an elf. It seems these folks have just been holding onto a mysterious letter- that they didn’t even open?! It seems they got it with a bag of gems from a (deceased?) courier and didn’t realize the real treasure is the written word, and the secrets it can tell us. There was the symbol of the Cobbsworth brewery. (you don’t need a 17 int to be curious, but it helps) Obviously, we had to open it, which I did with only a slight injury. I did end up with a -1 to hand stuff from that- might that be enough to discourage hooking me up with his racist son?

Madtoad

After a misspent youth as a seafarer on some, let’s say, less than reputable vessels, I was ready to get my land-legs back under me and spend some time doing some good in the world. I’d traveled about as far inland as I could stand (I still miss the smell of the salty sea-air, and can hardly sleep without the lapping of the waves against the boat) and found myself in a township called Prigswort. A sizable city, bigger than most of the port cities I’d spent time in, though not as big as the occasional coastal capital city. The whole place was buzzing with activity, as I seemed to arrive on some sort of festival day. I was low on funds and food, and hoping to find a way to make some gold appear in my pockets. A couple of nights in an inn where I could play for some locals for some spending cash and maybe a night in a cozy bed would be a good start, but I was thinking I’d need a bigger stake to breathe easy and figure out my next move. One of the things my minstrel instructors did manage to drill into my head was that if you were looking for work you could do worse than to find something like the Gray Company and ask about adventuring jobs, so the first thing I did was figure out where a Gray Company headquarters was in town and head directly there. There was a man there sitting at a table just inside the door. Bald, hair sticking out of his ears, nose like a bulb of garlic, he gave no credence to my existence, despite my saying hello, good morning, and excuse me, in that order. It was like whatever he was looking at on the piece of paper he had in front of him had transfixed him. Or he’d fallen asleep. I took the lute from my back and tried playing a tune. An ascending arpeggio from C-minor up got me nowhere. A quick double-time through a classic sea shanty also brought no attention my way. Finally, practically flummoxed, I pulled my hands together, tightening them on the strings, and let out a sustained discordant note that got him to jerk his head up and snort through his nose. He looked me over, leather jerkin, all-weather poncho, wild brown hair and unshaven face and frowned. “What do you want?” he asked in a voice as gruff as a billy goat’s. “I’m looking for work.” “Isn’t everyone?” I didn’t know whether everyone was or not so I simply stared back at him. After a few seconds he said, “We don’t book musicians, kid.” “I’m not looking for-” “There’s a few inns up and down the main street, there’s, uh-” “I’m looking for something more interesting than that.” He looked me over again. I turned slightly so he could see the sword strapped to my thigh, and the quiver of arrows on my back. He squinted at me and said, “Hm.” A woman came dancing from somewhere in the back, slightly older and said, “Are you bothering this young man?” It took me a moment to realize she wasn’t talking to me, but to the man at the table. “I’ve come looking for work.” I said. “And you’ll have it.” She answered back. “Try the Clashed Antler.” “Is that an Inn?” I asked, crestfallen. “Yes.” She said, in a lilting voice. “I’m not looking for music work.” I said. “Nor should you. But there’s a group of adventurer’s staying there called the Glorious Blades. They may have some work for you. And if not, take this.” She shoved a crumpled piece of parchment into my hand. “It’s not much but it’s a start. Now go. Go on. I’ve got to get this one back to being useful.” She looked into the man’s eyes, he’d fallen asleep again. As I left the Gray Company’s office I heard her shouting, “Coffee! You need coffee!”

Bern

Somehow a bunch of fresh faces from the Glorious Blades joined us out here. How they found us I have no idea. Pretty sure I don’t know where I am at this point. But Rowen must have had something to do with it, since she wandered out of town muttering about ley lines about the same time. I let her go without comment. I don’t need ley lines, I need my arm fixed. I did ask Kiba if she brought my wardogs from camp. This was supposed to be a quick excursion to help u-Heury with his winter princess before a quick trip back to base to figure out a plan for the hag. Somehow we skipped the back to base part. She denied having the dogs. Oh well. They might have come in handy.

Session map

Bern

Selaena managed to get us an update: the Princess was overjoyed to hear that her True Love yet lived and sought her embrace, but insisted on seeing the ring before actually doing anything. So we tried to arrange another distraction. The guests kept demanding new and obscure dishes (everything from roast swan to pizza rolls) and sending the waitstaff – us – down to the kitchens to get it. u-Heury was downstairs trying to arrange for his wrestling match with the ogre when Selaena managed to sneak upstairs again – this time with the ring and and plan.

Nottanis

Rather than return to town immediately, we investigated some of the nearby barrows. While we walked, Rowen had the bright idea to put on the wight-making necklace we found in order to “make sure we kept her safe”. I’m not sure where she got this obviously bad idea but she should stop listening to them.

The first had a simple porticullis guarding the entrance, and no skull on top. After inspecting it for traps we managed to lift it and descend, with Rowan’s Dancing Lights lighting the way, and a log holding the gate up so it wouldn’t close behind us.