Dale in the Fourth Age: Session Two, "Home Town, Gonna Wander Down Your Back Streets"

With something to celebrate - and several further lines of enquiry to pursue - our heroes have been engaging in a good old tradition known as a "pub crawl", and after an ale or two in a few of the better taverns in town (and giving Bruno a good send-off) the rest of the fellowship find themselves stumbling out of a watering-hold known to Rowena, rejoicing in the name of "The Merry Thrush" and boasting some of the fiercest hot snacks to be found anywhere East of the Misty Mountains.

They have been taking the opportunity to show off some of their new purchases (including, in Arewe's case, a tune-up for her strange Eastern bow, which after having its springs replaced with a stiffer set by a nimble-fingered Dwarf bowyer named Austri, now draws exactly as hard as she can pull) and, after taking enough refreshment for one evening, tumble out into the street singing along to the splendid lute Rowena is familiarising herself with.

It is after the hour when most respectable citizens have sought their beds, but there are still a few people about the place -- including a small number, barely visible in the shadows under the eaves of a couple of rows of close-set houses, who appear to be engaged in a scuffle of some kind. One of them gives out an agonised yell as it seems something sharp finds its mark in his flesh: then there is a cry of "Hook it!" and a patter of fleeing feet, leaving someone in the half-light of the moon spreading a darkening stain across the cobbles.

Eli Proudfoot, in a very pleasant ale-enhanced state but not, he thinks, actually drunk, will put his hand on the hilt of his sword and run over to see if he can help the apparently-wounded person.

Rowena, somewhere between pleasantly tipsy and utterly numb--the lute is such a splendid instrument it practically plays itself, at least it seems so to her--is slow to recognize the significance of the sounds. Eli's behavior finally catches her attention and she pauses, somewhat stupidly, to gaze after the hobbit.

"Oh," she says when realization finally seeps through her cider-soaked brain. "Eli, be careful!" After adjusting the lute's shoulder strap to switch it from front to back in a clumsy but fortunately familiar move, Rowena starts off after him.

Tom will carefully walk over towards the commotion, ready to cast a spell if the party are attacked.

Arewe will quickly follow Eli, readying her bow.
She can defend the hobbit (or perhaps track those who just fled the scene.)

Eli arrives first and sees that the fallen person is a young Man, clutching a bleeding belly wound that looks like it might be serious. Arewe can clearly hear the assailants (or whoever it was that ran away) no more than an alleyway distant. Tom and Rowena arrive about the same time a few moments later, and Rowena recognises Dan Harston, a slightly shady sort; by no means one of Dale's leading lights but with no great harm in him so far as she knows. His eyes struggle to focus on her and his mouth seems to be trying to form words.

Eli glances from the Man to Rowena, then presses his own hands firmly over the Man's, over the belly wound. "He needs a healer, and quickly," Eli says loudly, before leaning in close to hear what the Man wishes to say.

Horror sweeps away some of Rowena's cloud of drunkenness. "I know him. Dan..." She sinks onto her knees beside Dan Harston and takes his hand with hers. Darting a frightened glance over her shoulder to see if Gade is nearby, she then shifts uneasily to Eli and Tom. "I have--that scroll thing. For light wounds. Does that really work? I don't really know how..."

Helpless, she tightens her grip around Dan's fingers. "Dan, you'll be all right, I--I promise." She has no idea if this is a promise she should make. The wound looks terrible. She swallows and kneels closer, trying to focus on his face and adding her second hand to sandwich his. "What happened, who did this to you?"

Unless Gade appears with a Cure, Tom will use a Potion of Cure on Dan.

Arewe will try to spot the assailants - but not at risk to herself (as she can see the others are busy helping the victim.)

As Rowena fumbles for the scroll, she remembers her mentor's words. The music isn't something you perform... it is something that you are. It's part of you. Learn to trust it.

And more than once, the touch of her hand seemed to keep someone alive until help could arrive -- does she yet dare to be that help herself?

Uncertain where these thoughts are coming from--the cider? Crazed hope?--Rowena stares back at Dan and tightens her grip. Sick or wounded people have been calmed, soothed, even sustained around her, but surely that's just from... the comfort of a gentle touch? Their own will?

She doesn't know. Right now she doesn't know anything. Heribert called her a fool often enough--affectionately, but he meant it; said she didn't understand the true power of music, said she needed to conjure light from darkness and harmony from silence--whatever that meant--and he doubted she'd ever see what was right in front of her unless he pointed it out.

Right now, lost, she agrees with him. All she knows is that Dan hasn't responded to her words, and she's scared he's already gone. If she ever helped anyone stay safe, she hopes that ability somehow repeats itself now.

She leans in, peering at him. "Dan, it's me, it's Ro. Rowena Ticehurst. Please stay here, we have a healer..." At least Tom has a potion he knows how to use. She tosses another glance for Gade before swiftly returning to the wounded man beside her. "C'mon, Dan, you can't go. Not without using that Harrow deck you won off Elric. New travelers are in town, ripe for the Oracle grift. And Towers, remember, you promised you'd show us how that works?"

Belatedly she realizes this probably isn't helping her reputation with the others, but she pushes that concern away. Falling silent, and somewhat self-conscious, she closes her eyes and sort of... kind of... prays.

Rowena feels a strange thrill run through her, from her heart to her fingertips. Dan gasps and his eyes open. Visibly he is not at death's door and could probably stand up at once if both he and the songstress were a little less bewildered about the whole thing. The formerly-dangerous wound is no longer bleeding.

"Ro!" he gasps. "Damn, you showed up just about the right time. It was the Scarfaces!"

"The right time would've been before they got you," Rowena says weakly. The words are automatic, just a response to fill in the time until her mind can actually comprehend what just happened. Is that how the scroll works? Because while she's comforted people before until they rallied, she's never seen torn flesh become whole. Not without an actual healer stepping in.

She resolves to ask Tom if he used his potion... even though that doesn't explain what she felt. Shaking the thoughts away for now, Rowena backs up to let Dan catch his breath, then enlists the others to help him back to his feet. Meanwhile she's retreated her hands, almost afraid to let them touch anything.

At last her bemused brain catches up to what the suddenly un-wounded man just said. The Scarfaces.


OOC: May I get a knowledge (local) check please? What if anything does Rowena know about the Scarfaces?

Tom checks that whether Potion of Cure is needed (rather naughtily thinking it will save the party money!)

Tom has spent time in Dale - he racks his brains for any local reference to 'Scarfaces'.

Arewe is keeping an eye out for the attacker(s), but is not chasing them on her own.

A weathered looking man holding a elvish looking long bow approaches. You see a Longsword over his back. His cloak is wrapped around him but his hood is down revealing brownish hair and grey eyes. He appears to be of average height.

"I am Beecher, is this man a friend of yours? Do you need help? I am a fair hand at tracking if it comes to it."

Eli stands and steps back from the wounded man, answering warily, "He was attacked, he said, by the Scarfaces. I think one or more of them just ran away from here. Do you know who they might be, stranger?"

Tom introduces himself to Beecher. "I'm Tom. This attack just happened. We cannot allow this sort of thing in Dale."

(Tom will use any skill of his that might help to see of Beecher is trustworthy...)

Arewe keeps watching the direction the attackers fled in, but says over her shoulder "Beecher, welcome. I'm Arewe and I also have some skill in tracking."

Rowena has certainly heard of the Scarfaces. Dale has a number of young men (and some women) who stand somewhere between "youngsters who like a bit of fun", on the one hand, and "out-and-out ne'er-do-wells usually managing not to be caught in the act" on the other. The Scarfaces are about the roughest bunch, but there are several groups who band together for mutual protection if nothing worse, rejoicing in a variety of imaginative names. While loitering on the fringe of some of these borderline activities, and not always being above "a bit of fun" herself, Rowena has always avoided actively becoming aligned with any of them nor getting into mischief that would earn more than an official scolding were she ever caught. The Scarfaces... are reputed to have fewer scruples.

Dan is still wincing a little as he carefully stands up, but he is able to stand and will probably mend well enough in the natural way even if he would be wise not to get into any rough stuff for the time being.

OOC: Tom has no particular way to assess Beecher's trustworthiness or otherwise, other than to watch his actions. Sorcerers are not the best skill-monkeys :D

Rowena swiftly relates a rushed (and heavily expurgated to be Rowena-friendly) explanation of the Scarfaces to those who don't know of them. She glances at the stranger, not even having noticed his approach. If he's a tracker, he must be great at making sure he's not heard or seen.

"Thanks, Beecher. Yes, he's a friend of mine. Whether you help depends on...um..." She's trying to avoid staring in admiration at the Elvish bow, a real beauty. "...Depends on whatever just happened."

Her attention refocuses on Dan. "Are you all right to talk for a moment? Whatever did they want? Was it just random violence--you know, Scarfaces being Scarfaces? Did they steal anything, was it something personal, was it--" Rowena cuts herself off when her mind's litany of possibilities lands on the worst one. She stares at him with wary concern. "Oh Dan, please tell me you didn't pull anything on one of the Scarfaces?"

"No!" exclaims Dan. "And they didn't take anything, either. Just told me I was trespassing, and they were going to mark me up a bit so anyone who needed to know could see they meant business. Only... this street has never been Scarfaces' patch, not even close. I know they're a bad lot, but they've never been this pushy."

He probes his favourite belly anxiously. "Seems if you hadn't turned up when you did, I might've been a bit more of a warning than they meant. Or than I thought they meant, anyway."

"Shall we chase them," Eli asks Rowena and this 'Dan' fellow, "or just let them go?"

Arewe is ready to go after the gang (and has some idea which direction they went in...)

Tom asks "Is there an authority in Dale that the party should report to?"
If not, he's happy to pursue.

Rowena stares at Dan's description of his attackers' words. "Mark you up a bit," she repeats, glancing down at the tear in his shirt still damp with his blood. "I fear what they'd've done if they actually meant damage! As for your luck, usually you've been luckier than any of us have a right to be. Tonight, though... well, I guess we did find you just in time."

She skims past thoughts of whatever just happened to her sort-of-friend's wound. The Hobbits' questions make her give him a sideways glance. Not a fan of 'authorities', Dan isn't, and truthfully neither is she. "Ummm... it probably depends on how Dan feels about that, Tom.

"As for giving chase against the Scarfaces--" Despite the situation, she's inwardly pleased by the almost-rhyme there, and she smiles when she turns to Eli. "--You're a strong lot indeed, I wouldn't bet against you normally. They're a particularly vicious bunch when they're on their own territory." Rowena frowns in increasing concern, murmuring, "...Vicious and getting worse, apparently."

Beecher quietly starts checking the area for tracks of note. Some oddity in gait or footwear indicated by the prints.

Eli rubs his chin and echoes Tom's question, directing it the wounded man. "Would you suggest we report this attack to the Town Watch or other local authority, sir?"

Beecher doesn't notice anything especially unusual about the marks left by the now-vanished ruffians OOC: Even with an excellent Survival skill, sometimes the d20 of destiny just doesn't play ball although since they left in some haste not long ago and were several in number, it's likely that he could find something to follow; while the streets are by no means filthy, they are not so pristine as to leave no marks at all.

This is all a little outwith Eli's experience, even as a Shirriff. Tales tell of sadder times in the days when Sharkey was about the place, but Shirriffs these days as before the War don't often have to mind other people's business for them, and generally have little to do except ensure that any strayed beasts are returned to their proper place... along with certifying that the various wayside hostelries are giving proper measure of liquor that is fit for purpose.

Dan looks unhappy. "Truth to tell -- though I'm not fonder of a knife in the belly than the next man -- it would feel too much like snitching. And even if not, what's to say? There's not but my word to say all the knife-work was on one side, or that I hadn't as much to do with the quarrel as they. I'd as soon find out what they meant by it, and maybe teach them not to go so far another time, if it could be managed without too much blood shed." As Rowena knows well enough, a little mischief is generally turned a blind eye to, if it's short of actual robbery or deadly assault, and just between equals. Youngsters of both sexes -- but mainly young men -- mainly grow out of such foolishness soon enough.

Tom feels that since Rowena knows Dan, it's worth trying to catch the attackers.
Also the last time this group got involved helping an injured party, it turned out well (and was exciting to boot!)
So he suggests to everyone that Dan goes home and we hunt the Scarfaces.

Arewe nods politely at Beecher and also looks for Scarface tracks (having a slight advantage of having heard them flee...)

Ever eager for adventure and to smite (or at least reprove) wrongdoers, Eli agrees with Tom and will join Arewe in looking for Scarface tracks.

Looking from one party member to the other, and then over to Dan, Rowena finally lands her gaze down at the old copper ring on her right hand. It's worthless--its weight wouldn't even equal an actual copper piece--but it once had a pretty shine to it. Now its main value is as something to twist when she's anxious. As she does now.

She's still a little tipsy from all the cider, but not enough to ignore the general consensus here. Her instinct is to wish them luck and go home. But Dan is her friend, sort of, and it does anger her that this gang seems to have hurt him with no purpose, not even in revenge for some swindle or to steal anything he possessed. At least those are respectable reasons to attack--attack but not attempt to gut like a fish.

What can she offer these adventurers? Her song, her voice, they're encouraging, sure. But having seen the Scarfaces at work, she's uncertain they'll be helpful.

She's already staring at her hand, and slowly she turns it over, both of them actually, and examines her palms. Did Tom use whatever potion or some other sorcerer-ish power to help Dan? That ugly wound seemed to sew itself up right under her fingers. And she'd felt... something. Despite the unpleasant ripple down her spine now, and the desire to pause before bed to finagle another cider, Rowena sighs. The storyteller in her wants to know what happened--and whether it will happen again.

Her gaze edges to Dan. "Um... if there's anything else they said, or if you know exactly which Scarfaces attacked, now's a good time to drag it out of your memory. Otherwise I'll help you home. And after that--" After that, who knows what madness she's letting herself in for? Human-plant monstrosities, orcs with the head of a mutilated ram...

She turns back to the others. "After that I'll join you," she says, not as heartily as she'd intended.

"If we're going to track and catch up to them, best we start very soon."

Beecher looks around, if anyone is in the area that looks like a reliable townsperson, he'll call to them, "Good (sir or ma'am), could you please help poor Dan home? We need to pursue the ruffians who did this."

While the good citizens of Dale aren't used to seeing a huddle of people, some of them visibly armed, on the streets at night, there are enough persuasive tongues present -- between Rowena and the two personable-looking hobbits -- that a passer-by is soon convinced of the very reasonable proposition that Dan has been recently hurt and could do with seeing safely indoors. No-one seems very inclined to join in any meddling that goes on.

Working as a team (*), the two Rangers are able to find enough of a trail to follow, since a small group moving together offers enough of a clue compared to the random comings and goings on the sometimes muddy streets.

(*)OOC: The normal way to handle this is for one to attempt an Aid Another check and thus give the other a bonus on the actual skill check itself. There's not much need to specify you're doing that in a simple situation like this.

Even in civilised, prosperous Dale there are some unusually narrow and shadowy streets, and the trail leads down one of these, unsurprisingly called "The Shambles".

Tom congratulates Rowena on healing Dan and suggests to her that we follow the tracking Rangers.

"By all means," Eli adds impatiently. "Let's go. Time's a-wasting!"

Rowena, startled that the others are waiting for her, agrees and will follow them.

The Shambles is very narrow in places - the roofs almost meet overhead and there is five feet or even less of clearance between house fronts where, over time, the owners have eked out a few extra inches of living space at the expense of the public access. As the party pursue the fugitives, they are forced emphatically into single file and it will be very difficult to change places. (Gade is present for this scene...) OOC: Allocate a marching order, please!

Beecher will take the lead with Arewe next to help with the tracking. (Rangers)
Lets put Tom Gamgee the Sorcerer next followed by Rowena the local Bard.
Gade the Druid protecting this pair comes next.
Requesting Elihu Hobbit Scout to stealthily follow the party looking for any trying to sneak up behind us.

Elihu Proudfoot, a trained scout and brave for his size, would prefer to be out front, but will consent to bring up the rear this time.

Tom agrees with the marching order (we need to track) and reassures Eli that the Scarface thugs will probably attack from the back!

"So much the better," Eli says with a mix of bravado and humor, making sure his short sword moves freely in its scabbard.

"I will go wherever you put me," Rowena says, comforted by the fact that this seems to be safely in the middle of the group.

Following the two Rangers and in a rather constrained single file, the sextet hasten down the narrow and poorly-lit Shambles. Beecher's keen eyes, with Arewe's to assist, make light weather of spotting where the grime underfoot has been recently disturbed, and after a few moments there is a startled yell from somewhere ahead and the sound of a few pairs of feet quickening their pace, punctuated oddly by a few shrill whistles (the kind made by fingers in the mouth, not musical instruments).

As the pursuers follow, there is a sudden tearing of the light sackcloth covering an open doorway -- two, in fact, just about opposite each other in the narrows. From either side a small sword lunges, just about neck height for Tom who had passed a moment before, and so about rib or belly height for Rowena who is next. One lunge is wild but the other finds a patch not covered by the minstrel's new mail coat and a tearing pain sears through her. OOC: The ambushers successfully executed a sneak attack although only one of them hit. 9 points of damage.

Given the narrowness of The Shambles, it is difficult for anyone except Gade, Rowena and Tom to see much of the attackers, and they glimpse only Man-sized assailants behind the flimsy "curtains", one either side. It is unclear whether the sneaks intend to stand and fight or to bolt further into the houses at whose entrances they stand.

Tom calls out "Rowena hurt! Opponents either side!" and tries to cast Magic Missile on Rowena's attacker.

Rowena gasps and clutches her side near the wound, in as much shock and indignation as pain. She staggers back but doesn't fall, grabbing hold of the flimsy curtain for support. "Why?"she asks, somehow feeling illogically betrayed both by the men who attacked and the armor for not covering 100% of her body. If she really has some... ability... to help people, can she help herself? The question echoes and is nearly drowned out by the blood pounding in her ears and the exaggerated sounds of the footsteps around her outside this tiny 'alleyway.'

Amid the noise in her head, she hears Tom say her name and looks at him, falling mute, before noticing the vague shapes of the strangers.


OOC: The damage is only a little over half her hp, so this shouldn't be much of a wound, right? Am I supposed to roll for something?

Arewe hears Tom and promptly stops tracking.
She looks upwards for rooftop archers - if there are any, she draws her bow and shoots them.
If not, she draws her sword and shield and tries to get into combat (despite the narrow surroundings.

Beecher scans ahead quickly as he gets his bow ready, he spins and looks for an opportunity to use a Precise Shot on one of the assailants. He takes Deadly Aim of course. He thinks to himself, "The foes are within 30' so a point-blank shot should be pretty effective."

Eli almost draws his sword but then decides he can do more good trying to help Rowena. He goes to her side and will guide her away from danger, if he can.

Quote:

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Originally posted by choie

OOC: The damage is only a little over half her hp, so this shouldn't be much of a wound, right? Am I supposed to roll for something?

---

OOC: Correct, it's enough to smart and maybe raise concerns over how much longer you can stand this sort of thing, but you are still fully functional.

Arewe scans quickly for rooftop archers, sees none, and draws her sword. OOC: The buckler she has on her left forearm is already available and in effect as long as she is not shooting
Rowena, hearing Eli urging her to get out of the trap she is in, rather wisely does so, having to shove her way past the bulky form of the druid just behind her but able to manage it with his active cooperation. [occ]If you do nothing but retreat on your turn, the enemy don't normally get a free hit at you as you go, whereas if you aimed to move normally and then do something else that turn then they do.[/ooc]
Beecher takes a snap shot at the poorly-seen and part-concealed figure in the doorway to his right (as he sees it on turning around) but his shot caroms off the door-frame and disappears further up the Shambles back the way you came, apparently hitting nothing.
Having had to wait for Rowena to move before he could get at anyone, Gade steps forward into the space she left and swats at the same thug that Beecher shot at a moment before. The cramped quarters don't help and his staff connects mainly with the sacking, its cushioned impact having no apparent effect on the man behind.
As Tom incants and gestures strangely, the thugs both attempt to interrupt him if they can, and one of them comes close enough to pass his sword through the hobbit's unkempt mop of curls, but no closer... for which he can thank the fact that he too has the protection of the door-jamb, making him a more difficult target than they would have liked. A glowing magic missile briefly lights the gloomy Shambles and strikes home OOC: for 4 points of damage. Neither cover nor concealment have much effect on magic missile as long as you can see the target at all!
Eli bravely puts himself between Rowena and danger, hoping to cover Gade's back in case of fresh opposition.

The two assailants try to pincer Gade as they did Rowena a moment ago. Distracted by the two enemies teaming up on him, Gade is able to block only one, while the other stabs him OOC: 8 points of damage. These lowlife seem to have the same sneak attack ability that Eli does, which grants them extra damage dice in certain circumstances... such as having a foe directly between them. However, one of them gives a strange-sounding whistle and each of them retires into the house behind their respective doorways. This gives Gade the opportunity to clout one of them with his staff, and he doesn't waste it, driving six feet of sturdy oak between the shoulder-blades of the vile assailant... as it happens, the one that Tom shot with his spell. In the dim light of the interior it is difficult to see what happens, but Gade hears a thud and a crash.

Arewe will hurry into the doorway that Gabe is not facing and look for an opponent to hit with her sword.

If Tom can see an opponent, he will Magic Missile them.
If not, he will try to protect Rowena, and offer her a Potion of Healing so she can quickly Cure herself.

When Eli is sure that Rowena is out of harm's way, he will draw his sword and move to support Arewe.

Beecher will look for a target of opportunity and continue to try and precisely shoot one.

Rowena thanks Tom for his help as gratefully but quickly as she can, then pulls out her long sword. Far from proficient with this weapon, which isn't helped by the pain in her side, she's still aware that a bow and arrow would be almost humorously inappropriate.

Still indignant about having been stabbed for no reason, she turns in the general direction of any of the attackers left. How many seem to be surrounding them, if any remain? If so, she raises a ringing, theatrical voice to be heard above the grunts and clashing:

"Put up your weapons! We are but travelers and have no quarrel with you! Who are you and what do you gain from attacking us unprovoked? Let us pass!"

Alternately, if there are no attackers left--or if she can do so after speaking--Rowena tries to get to the attacker felled by Gade and Tom so she can better see if he's conscious/unconscious, dead, trying to get up, etc.

Tom admires Rowena's spirit, but insists she drink the Healing Potion immediately!

He also mutters to her "We are trying to bring villains to justice, so it's a bit cheeky to call ourselves 'travellers' ;) "

OOC: Will Rowena take the potion or does she actually want to see if her newly-awoken powers do work on herself?

OOC: Sorry, I blipped over Tom's having offered the potion! No, let's see if she can dare try it on herself.

Rowena looks down at the potion proffered by Tom. Her hands tingle with the memory of having helped her friend earlier. "Um... maybe... later? It's not so very bad," she finishes lamely, covering the torn and slightly blood-stained blouse above her waist.

Then, on more secure footing, she adds quietly, "'Course we're after them, or likely their mates. But Hobbits know the value of a strategic lie, don't they? I can be quite convincing. You'd be surprised."

If she can do so when attention is off her, she'll place a free hand on the wound--which isn't at all serious but even a grazing stab still hurts--and try to... think... healthy thoughts? Truth is, she doesn't know what she's doing.

This is absurd, how would this even work? Is this just supposed to knit the thing up like a torn stocking? A comparison that's only hypothetical to Rowena, since her clumsy fingers never held a needle that didn't jab her more than the material it was meant to sew.

Words unbidden come to Rowena's lips and she sings them out loud, not quite conscious of what she is doing and momentarily taken aback when she realizes those around her are looking at her strangely (although Tom Gamgee has a fair inkling of what just happened). The pain in her stab wound lessens and the slight bleeding ceases. OOC: 5 hp regained

The grunts and clashing have ceased for the present, and Beecher's keen eyes sweep the crowded rooftops and find no archers there. Equally, Arewe looks into the doorway (having to squeeze past Gade to do so) and finds no-one there. A small unkempt room, almost completely dark, offers few clues save the door ajar on its far side.

Gade utters a few words in a strange tongue and the top end of his oaken staff flickers into pale smokeless flame which seems not to consume it, but provides more than enough illumination to see clearly into the house where his injured assailant fled. A wooden chair lies on the floor where it has apparently been crashed into and almost tripped over, and beyond, the druid is just able to catch a glimpse of someone leaving through the rear door, limping a little. A strange design on the fugitive's cloak catches his eye: a stylised wolf's head rendered in pale blue. The wearer, in the second or so in which Gade is able to see him clearly, looks "more than half a goblin", as they might say in the Shire.

Eli, sword in hand, will quietly follow the fugitive in the cloak.

Tom will signal the party to carefully follow our scout, organising an order of Eli, Beecher (bow shots over Eli's head!), Gabe (for the light + melee), Tom (spells), Rowena (Bard stuff) and Arewe (rearguard.)
As the party set off, Tom whispers to Rowena "nice heal - do you want to hang on to the curing potion?"

Arewe is happy to guard the rear as the party may be in for combat in a confined area.
She will keep her sword + buckler ready (unless her surroundings open up, when she will switch to her bow.)

Hearing Tom only vaguely, Rowena actually looks around for a second or two, under the foolish apprehension that someone or something has just possessed her. Or maybe she's gone mad altogether.

When she musters her wits she murmurs a "yes please" to Tom for his kindness and takes the potion, almost dropping it in her trembling hands before putting it in her pack. *

She's none too sure of the layout of this place, so just follows the others, both hands again clutching her sword hilt. She asks Gade for a better description of the emblem on the cloak, not very confident that her Knowledge (either local or history) might divine some meaning from its mystery. Gade is far more likely to understand such symbols, and he doesn't seem to recognize it.


OOC: * If potions are carried in something with a top/lid? Are they bottles, vials, what?

Beecher swiftly takes his position in the line and keeps alert for ambushes.

While Rowena doesn't recognise the emblem as anything current to Dale, her heart gives a sharp thump as the phrase "the sky-blue wolves are in the fold" suddenly resonates in her memory.

OOC: Potions are carried in small vials, like a miniature of rum - usually with a stopper designed to be loosened easily when the possessor wants to drink it. They could be tucked in a belt pouch or the folds of a sash, although if you have more than one or two to carry you would prefer the security of a backpack. A valuable - but at your level very expensive - piece of luggage called a handy haversack usefully puts whatever you wanted to pull out right under your hand when you randomly grab from it. :)

Led by Eli, the party scurry through the little house (whose occupants appear to have taken cover elsewhere, perhaps upstairs) and out through the back door. The back alleys here seem to be even more mazy and confusing than the Shambles proper, but Eli glimpses a running figure ducking around a corner a little way ahead.

Trying to be quiet, swift and reasonably careful, Eli gives chase. Upon reaching the corner, he makes a somewhat wide turn so as not to be within arm's (or sword's) reach of whoever may be waiting right there.

Startled by her own thoughts, Rowena trips a little while running when the curious but familiar phrase springs to mind. Back when they were hunting the missing ram, Eli had mentioned wolves, and sky blue... what exactly had he heard? Her gaze darts ahead, but Eli is too distant. Her legs might be longer than his, but she cannot approach his speed.

"Tom," she says, much closer to the other Hobbit. "Didn't Eli describe that man-orc thing--from back in the cave, I mean--as wearing a robe like that? And he mentioned wolves too." She doesn't mention the specific phrase she just conjured from who-knows-where, since she's not entirely sure she can trust her mind right now. Just how much cider did she drink?


OOC: If Rowena digs deeper into her memory, would she be able to trace that specific phrase? Or is this a reference to what Eli told them?

Tom thinks back (whilst keeping alert!) and replies "In the orc caves Eli saw a yellowish-brown Man (a Wizard?) in a pale blue robe who said something about sending greetings to the Grey Wolf from the Sky-Blue..."

As Eli cautiously makes the turn, he sees no ambush waiting but has dropped back a yard or two in the process. He is still able to mark where the fugitive goes as he crashes through the half-open door of one of the less attractive properties in town. This is done in enough haste that his cloak catches on the door-latch, and he evidently has to shrug it off and leave it behind rather than risk the pursuers gaining ground while he retrieves it.

From inside the house there is a chorus of yells, and as Eli reaches the open doorway he sees a smallish room, rather crowded by the five Men who seem to be picking up the remains of a table and some drinking vessels knocked over by the runaway. One of them holds up a warning hand as if to discourage further intruders, although he seems a little unsteady on his feet. There is a strong smell on the air of spilled ale and cheap pipe-weed. Also present is a fair-sized dog, apparently undecided between growling at the strange Hobbit and wagging his tail.

Eli stops in the doorway. Does he see the person he was chasing among the five Men?

Tom assesses the combination of Eli in the doorway and the fugitive's cloak stuck on the door as marking a potential combat. He tries to get into position to cast into the room - without blocking our Fighters.

Arewe will try to co-ordinate with Eli, Beecher and Gabe. As she is at the rear, she will be alert to any attacks from behind or above (and thus switch to bow.)

Nobody seems to be starting a fight here. There is an open door on the far side of the room, leading back onto a narrow street, and one or two of the Men looking in annoyance in that direction. The dog continues to wag its tail uncertainly, then one of the Men snaps his fingers as though to call it to order. Instead it approaches you and sniffs each of you in turn, especially fond it seems of Tom and Gade, and its tail wags with much more enthusiasm over those two than the rest of you.

Gade chuckles "Friendly little fellow!" and recites something in a language you don't understand. The dog and he exchange a few whimpers, seemingly to the satisfaction of both of them.

"Hello, gentlemen, and please pardon me cutting through," Eli says, heading towards the open door on the far side of the room.

Rowena watches, a slight wrinkle above her nose as she tries to figure out the curious dynamics in the room. From the strangers' perspective, they've all been witness to a chase that has one party vanishing while the other has abruptly stopped in their... home? Gathering place? Yet the only person in conversation is Gade. With a dog.

At least Eli has apologized for our barging in, Ro thinks. As she looks around to find whichever Man seems most friendly--or rather, least unfriendly--she edges over to reach for the jettisoned cloak.

"Yes, excuse us, gents," she says, with a bright but apologetic smile. "We were just attacked by those brutes who just passed through your door." Her hand automatically reaches for the site of the now-healed injury, which is when she realizes that whatever strange healing...thing...just happened to her, it doesn't extend to fixing clothing. The tear in her dress's middle reveals a little more skin than expected.

Though not hugely modest, she's not exactly comfortable with showing her midriff to a bunch of strange men. She abruptly pulls the ripped edges together. "Um... yeah, so... sorry to do the same, but they hurt a friend of mine, and we need to find out why. You don't happen to have recognized any of them, do you? Or--"

She holds up the cloak, looking for anything of interest other than the wolf insignia. "--Or this thing? Ever seen the like before?" At least I can wear it to cover myself, she thinks, and if she's able to, she'll drape it over her shoulders.

Tom nods approvingly at Rowena taking the cloak.

One of the Men, a little more sober than the rest, holds up a hand and looks a little crossly at the intruders, gesturing to Eli that he should stop where it is. "Now hold it right there," he says querulously. "It's bad enough when one rude stranger we don't know comes barging right through here and upsets our friendly little gathering, but we don't need half a dozen more! Why don't you go right back the way you came?"

Gade turns away from the dog, after the pair have whimpered away to each other for a while, and says "Friends, I feel that is only fair. We should apologise for our part in this intrusion, and not aggravate it further."

One of the seated Men looks as though he might have been about to say something to Rowena, but he gives a peculiar giggle and seems to think better of it, and no-one else has anything to say about her taking the cloak. Nor do they seem as if they want to say anything about the wolf insignia.

"Please, sir, you don't understand--" Rowena's about to press the point in her most appealing, charismatic manner, but remembers she's not by herself. Quickly hiding a scowl, she turns to the others and sends a quick glance across Tom, Eli, Beecher, Arewe and Gade. And then the dog too, because why not?

Her words are exhaled in a rushed whisper. "If we truly must go back, so be it, but... if we can follow, perhaps we should? I bet I can get them to sleep. Or I can distract Sir Hostile over there by... well... I was taught how to keep a man preoccupied.*" She flushes, knowing how this probably sounds--and how dubious her claim must be given her bedraggled appearance--but either way, skills are skills.

"I could get his attention so you can rush out. Maybe I can talk to Giggles and get something useful. Of course Tom can probably just wave a hand and take care of 'em, or Beecher could knock 'em out, and... whatever you all think best. Dan is my friend, I know, and I don't want to endanger anyone, it's just..." She can hardly believe she's saying this, given her earlier reluctance, but then she touches her former wound and grimaces. "Blast it, that stab hurt. And dresses cost coppers I don't have. I don't want to let this go."




* Tsk tsk. Get your minds out of the gutter! She means via her Fascinate skill.

Eli stops as bidden, and says out of the side of his mouth to Rowena and his other friends, his eyes still on the Men in the room, "That's all right with me. Every passing second means our quarry gets farther away; I could take the long way 'round but suspect I would then not be able to catch up."

Tom sees the value in all the party's suggestions.
He reckons that Gade (having spoken to the dog) has slightly more information and so Tom recommends that the party retreat as requested - but with two ideas in mind:

- Tom whispers to Rowena "Quickly try to get information out of giggles"
- Beecher and Arewe could try to pick up the villain's trail once we have circled round to the other door

I think circling around and trying to pick up the trail again might be for the best.

With a nod, Rowena mutters to Eli, Arewe and Beecher: "Maybe you should start off now if you're taking the long route, and we'll catch up?"

Any charm she has won't come from her appearance, that's for sure. In sunlight her hair's a fiery gold, her hazel eyes shine a bright green-topaz, and her complexion seems smooth and even. Here? Now? Her hair's just yellow, eyes nondescript light brown, and freckles spray her nose and cheeks.

But Rowena's a Bard, and her master taught her to use her voice, not her unremarkable looks. She turns and kneels so that she's eye-to-eye with Giggles's seated form. "Sir, we'll heed your friend and go... but..." She gazes at him earnestly, her tone soothing, musical and confidential. "A gang attacked us, and I got stabbed and a friend beaten. That man was one of them. Please, do you know anything to help us? I'd be ever so grateful."

Eli nods briskly, turns on his heel, and runs outside and then around, trying to catch up with his quarry while still being reasonably careful going around corners.

Arewe nods at Rowena and swiftly follows Eli (also going wide round corners!)

Tom moves carefully back to the doorway and pauses there to make sure Rowena is safe.

Beecher is 4' behind Eli. Once we get to the back and see if things are clear. Tracking time.

As Giggles is unforthcoming, there seems nothing for it but for Rowena to quickly catch up with the rest of the group. As she does so, though, Gade beckons urgently to her. "I had Speak with Animals loaded today. The waggy dog in there? I asked him what he was so excited about and he said 'I can smell the special dust on you and the hairyfoot, the one with the big stick. When I smell it and wag my tail, my men give me treats!'. As he seemed friendly and I had time for another question, I asked whether he had smelled it before and he said 'Yes, in a big shed by the lake. Everything smells of fish there, but I smelled lots of dust too.' "

"I didn't dare say a word while we were in there, but I don't think it's coincidence that our fugitive ran that way. And maybe we've something else to look at if we don't catch up with this bunch."

Rowena nods and follows. When she sees Tom she tells him what Gade said. Maybe he knows what 'dust' he has in common with Gade.

Tom considers what Rowena has reported. As Tom has a Staff, it is surely him the dog was referring to.
However the only thing that Tom knows that he has in common with Gade is spell-casting. But if that is what 'dust' means, why doesn't Rowena herself count?

Tom suggests that he and Rowena catch up with the trackers and get their opinion...

Arewe follows Eli, hoping that Beecher and Arewe can pick up the trail.

"Yes, I'll keep up." As Rowena runs, though, something starts to tickle her brain. She frowns, not in anger, but in effort to keep moving while simultaneously searching her memories of the group's experiences. First the Eagle, then that poor dead man in the clearing, followed by the plant-man thing, leading to the creepy house and that even creepier plant--

She stops in place and blurts: "Oh! The house!" After a quick think, the girl hurries back to Tom, trying to catch hold of his sleeve. "Tom! This might mean nothing, but... The dead man we first ran into--he had that weird coloring on his face? Then Eli found some yellow powder in that awful house*--y'know, with the--the man-plant."

She crinkles her nose again in thought. "He said he felt drawn by it...something like that, anyway...and left it alone. But didn't you take some with you? And give it to Gade?** I don't suppose... you think that could be the 'dust' he meant? The, um, dog, I mean?"

Her imagination's already concocting a tale involving a dog trying to protect its noble master from the seemingly innocent powder that turns out to be a bewitching spell of some kind.

With a quick shake of her head, she returns to the present. "It's probably not related," she admits, gasping for breath a bit while running-- "But I just thought... it might be. Assuming you both still have it?"




* see post 136
** see post 159

As the party has slowed to tracking speed, Tom is able to bring them up to date on Rowena's marvellous memory.
Tom has indeed kept a sample of the yellowish powder (which has a worryingly alluring scent) and also given Gabe some to analyse.
So the dog was able to smell which members of the party had this 'dust'.

Tom suggests that once we have dealt with the attempted ambush (either by capturing the attacker or losing his trail), the party return to that room and find out the significance of the powder/dust. (Why do the men reward the dog for finding it?!)

With some difficulty, the Rangers are able to pick up the trail of the fugitive once again, although they estimate they are now several minutes behind him or them. After carefully but quickly making their way through the Shambles, the six heroes find themselves at the edge of a slaughtering and meat-marketing facility that would have been very busy six hours ago but is now deserted... at least by its regular users. It is a low-roofed, largely open-plan building with timber pilings at regular intervals. In the shadows, an indeterminate number of man-sized figures can be occasionally glimpsed moving about. Whether any of these are Scarfaces or have anything to do with the ambushers from a few minutes ago is not immediately clear.

Tom whispers thanks to the trackers - presumably it's going to be nigh impossible to follow the trail inside the building?

Rowena, distracted a little by embarrassment that Tom shared her theory with everyone--she's got a sinking suspicion it'll turn out to be a wrong guess entirely--takes a few moments to dart her gaze throughout the dark. Their surroundings are pretty repulsive both in sight and smell. And they bring her unease. If she were telling a ghoulish tale to scare listeners, this'd be the perfect setting. Wights could lurk behind the corpses of stable-mates, animating their own bones left over from the butchering to seek vengeance on those who wielded the knives.

Wait... can there be bovine wights? Rowena grimaces--not from the unpleasant thought, mind, but for the premise's lack of credibility from a story-weaving point of view. Then again, cattle are living creatures and might have spirits. And if there are barrow-wights lurking within the barrows, there could just as easily be slaughterhouse-wights...

Having lost her train of thought, she hears Tom's question to the others and jumps back to the present search. She doesn't know the correct answer, but continues to peer around their surroundings. Since there is a decent distance between her and the potentially dangerous strangers, she pulls out her bow and nocks an arrow. Now she is ready to hiss a warning to her party if someone objects to their presence, and to let an arrow fly if the objection turns to impending violence.

Eli will carefully advance and see if he can learn anything more.

Arewe will switch to melee weaponry and be on guard.
(If Eli wants support, Arewe will accompany him.)

Beecher will follow Eli at this point.

Eli, with the two Rangers close behind, tries to creep closer to see and hear what he can.

There is some light ahead from a lantern, which illuminates a large crate apparently being used as an impromptu table by several Men. "Good," one of them -- better dressed than the two thuggish-looking specimens who presently have their backs to Eli -- is saying. "There is some money to be made in Dale at the moment, and the bigger the patch your gang can claim for us, the more sales we can make. Here, this is what we agreed for tonight. Hopefully that idiot will be enough of an example to the others."

Then the scruffy-looking thug he is talking to holds up a hand. "Wait!" he says curtly. "We've got company. Lads!" he yells.

From the shadows deeper in the slaughterhouse, several more Men can be seen hurrying over. As the light from the lantern falls on them, Eli can see that they are dressed in drab grey and wear dark grey cloaks that would blend well into the dim shadows of a city street after lights out. While they seem to be armed with no more than long knives or small swords, they have the air of those who are more than willing to use them and chance the consequences -- especially in a place like this hidden from public view.

Arewe tries to make an instant judgement whether Eli, Beecher and herself are outclassed by the men coming forward (at least her side seem to have an advantage in weapons and armour.)
So either stand and fight - or retreat towards the rest of the party.

In any case she alerts Tom, Rowena and Gabe to the danger.

If Tom can see the hostile men, he will start casting Magic Missiles at them.
If not, he will follow Arewe's guidance and either cover a retreat or cautiously advance until he can see the combat (and cast.)

Alarmed, Rowena gasps and rushes forward to stay Tom's hand although his remarkable magic abilities seem easy as breathing--and more to the point, his instincts are likely much faster than hers. "Wait, wait! We don't even know... they haven't even threatened us yet--not exactly!"

Lowering her bow, she moves to get a better sight of the intimidating group, and for them to see her... while still keeping her small figure mostly behind Beecher for some cover. She says in a rush to the gang: "We--we're the ones who barged in uninvited, after all."

Only if she manages to be quick enough (and persuasive enough) to stay Tom's spell, not to mention the rest of the fighters around her, both her own group and the strangers, will she continue. I guess this is an Initiative Check?

Eli agrees with Rowena, at least for now. Are the newly-arrived Men in grey cloaks approaching Eli and his friends, or those who were conferring about Dale when we snuck up on them? If the first, Eli will withdraw. If the second, Eli will hunker down and try to see what happens next.

OK, Tom will stay ready to cast if the men attack.

Rowena sees Tom's changed stance--or maybe just his expression--and breathes a little sigh of relief as her eyes focus again on the strangers. She's well aware her efforts at parleying or persuasion have been pretty dismal lately, and doubts she'll be any more successful now. But it's been part of my training, it's what I must do. I can't give up trying!

"I-I'm sure you men are--uh--displeased at our interruption." How does her apologetic demeanor sound to her comrades? They're keen to go after evil. This new guy Beecher barely knew them five seconds before nobly and bravely joining the hunt.

Rowena hopped aboard this dangerous wagon ride to find the villains who attacked Ben and stabbed her. Whatever these men are planning, it hasn't happened yet. Preventing future nefariousness is not her affair.

She hurries on. "It's just... we were set upon only moments ago and I was stabbed and--we seek justice. We traced the brigands here, they ran through, but... But you might not be the ones who did us harm." With an anxious gaze skimming the barely visible faces of the gray-clad men--she has no idea what their attackers looked like--she grips her bow tighter before blurting out: "Are you?"

Immediately she regrets the question, it's ludicrous and naive and makes her want to cringe further behind Beecher's blessedly large back.

As the thugs close, clearly intent on engaging in deadly combat, Tom reacts quickly and looses a toppling Magic Missile, hoping to cause one of them to trip over his own feet. The swirling Elvish letters in his vision condense for a moment and the brilliant energy coalesces into a swift dart that does indeed bring down one of their assailants. Gade, a fraction slower, continues to place his reliance in a couple of yards of stout oak and makes his displeasure felt on the first of the still-standing evildoers to approach within reach, while emitting a soft hoot and tilting his head almost imperceptibly, to which Aster responds by winging almost silently to the far side of one of their assailants and hooking at him with one of its talons, ineffectively but distracting his attention from the nearby Elihu. In almost the same moment, Rowena raises her voice in a stirring rendition of deeds of valour from Dale's history, lending vigour and strength to her allies. The grey-clad criminal knocked to the floor by Tom's spell clambers to his feet, while the one who is preoccupied by an angry owl stabs ineffectively at it. Another closes on the mail-clad Knight of Rohan and almost causes her to laugh in unchivalrous scorn at his childishly poor swordsmanship. The one whom Gade nearly brained responds with a better-placed stab of his own but inflicts no more than a graze, while the others seek to close on Beecher, Rowena and Tom. Elihu closes on the distracted thug, taking professional advantage of his preoccupation to find an especially tender spot to drive the point of his small sword home. OOC: He not only landed a sneak attack but criticalled the poor sap into the bargain. The bully falls to the ground with apparently only moments to live. Arewe lunges at her man but finds her blade turned by his tough leather jerkin, and Beecher's shaft causes his target to duck reflexively, the broad head of the arrow shearing a few hairs from his scalp.

Wild magic raging higher in him with each success, and seeing no-one yet close enough to threaten him directly, Tom looses another bolt of enchantment at one of the two who are still closing, staggering him slightly with the bolt's impact, but this one nimbly keeps his feet. Gade coolly steps back for a moment from his foe and recites something that sounds Elvish, though it is too quickly-spoken to follow; a strange greenish light surrounds his staff for an instant and it seems to emit a sound as of a mighty bough bending resiliently before a gale. Again he hoots and nods and Aster responds by closing on the thug who was floored a few moments before by Tom's magic, clawing ferociously at the ill-favoured one's eyebrows and drawing blood. Rowena, seeing a disengaged assailant and without interrupting her recitation, looses an arrow at him to discourage him from coming too close, although it has no other effect on him. The three thieves already in melee achieve nothing with their swords although it is only Arewe's armour that turns the blow, while the two others charge at the archers and Tom, one of them hitting Beecher a glancing blow and the other lunging wildly at the maid of Dale without effect. But Elihu's good fortune continues to attend him as he expertly moves to take advantage of the assistance provided by the screeching owl and again plants a well-placed blow on a vulnerable spot. Beecher coolly steps back, ignoring the scratch inflicted on him, and responds with an expertly-placed arrow that takes the conceit out of the bully attacking him although the man remains standing, clearly shaken.

Still with sorcerous power in hand, Tom decides to loose a straightforward magic missile since the foes are now closer than he likes and he does not care to spend the extra second or two in loading his spell with extra force when he could better spend it keeping out of reach. It is quite good enough to drop the man in front of Beecher anyway. With a mighty whooom! as of a far weightier instrument, Gade's staff strikes a crushing blow that is more than enough to account for his man, while Aster latches onto its prey with both talons, tearing flesh and spilling blood with predatory efficiency. That is more than these assailants have stomach for, those that are remaining, and they flee the battlefield as fast as they are able. Even so, one of them is unable to flee out of range of both Rowena and Beecher, although for now their arrows do no more than speed him on his way.

While the whole exchange has taken a little less than half a minute, it has been time enough for the three men who were having their discussion at the improvised table to have made their escape. After a short search of the premises, Beecher finds a grating in the floor, a couple of feet square, that seems to have been hastily removed and then replaced; it was not in sight from where the heroes were making their stand. From below, the stink of stale animal blood can be clearly discerned by anyone with a nose. However, in their hurry to leave the premises, one of the mysterious figures dropped what seems to be a small leather-bound book.

Gabe comments: "I am not badly hurt and neither is my faithful companion; nor, it seems, is any of us for the present. But I cannot work much more magic today."

Eli Proudfoot catches his breath, wipes his short sword off on the cloak of one of the fallen, raises his voice and says, "Well fought, all. You'll be needing some healing, then, Gabe? I'm sure that can be speedily arranged." He peers down the grating and wrinkles his nose at the stench which wafts upwards. "I suppose I should take a look down there, unless my time might be better spent chasing those who've so cowardly just fled."

Tom offers a Potion of Healing to Gabe (or Aster) remarking that it's party treasure - and also wise to keep us all at full strength. ;)

Tom also agrees with Gabe about having used up spells (Tom has just one Magic Missile left for today.)

However Tom has a continuing supply of useful cantrips, so can cast Detect Magic firstly on the grating and then on the leather-bound book.

Neither the grating nor the book is magical. It looks as though the cowardly fugitives fled into the passage/conduit/sewer below the grating, although it's not possible to hear any sounds from below that conclusively prove it.

Gabe, before imbibing the potion, says "We do have several clues or leads we could follow up if we dropped the immediate pursuit: the cloak we picked up earlier (and if I could find a good scent-hound in the morning we might make some progress in finding the owner); a suggestion that this strange dust is also found in one of the warehouses by the Lake; and whatever this book might be. Perhaps a pause for rest might be well advised."

Beecher speaks up, "Aye, a good rest would be the thing at this point. I would not choose easily to continue this pursuit, especially down that drain."

Eli says, "Well, I confess I'm in no hurry to plunge down there. And if my friends now wish a rest, who am I to gainsay them?"

Tom agrees with the party.
We are up against tricky foes, who can attack from the shadows.
Also we have some clues to investigate (especially the book.)
Let's carefully get back to safety and reload.

(Tom notes Gabe has used one party Healing potion - that's what they are for!)

The next day dawns bright and a little chilly but not unseasonably so. Although Arewe finds it rather brisk after the pleasant plains of Rohan a good deal further south, it is by no means too cold for a morning at the butts behind the Dragonfall Tavern, where she and the newly-acquainted Beecher go to try each other's skill and allow them to share stories as well as decide whether their paths -- and the companions' generally -- do lie together following what seems to have been a chance meeting the previous night. There are both targets and shafts in plenty for a modest hire at the Tavern, as well as a ready supply of passers-by to make knowledgeable remarks concerning the toxophilistic prowess of the pair.

Overshadowed by this spectator sport, Eli is applying his keen Shirriff's wits to the book that the mysterious figures at the meat-market let fall a few hours before, with Rowena on hand to offer any hints she can concerning whatever local references he might find therein. That most onlookers are far more interested in the Rangers' bowmanship than the woman and the hobbits poring over some dull tome in between sips of such small beer as is suited to the hour of the day is by no means unwelcome as far as the pair are concerned; and the reading is proving interesting.

Meanwhile, after such early meditations as his strange woodland faith requires, Gabe is wandering the city streets in search of one thing in particular: a dog that is of such a breed as to have a good nose, and is not in the close keeping of an attentive owner -- either a truly feral creature such as may be found in almost any settlement of Men eking out a meagre living off Men's leavings, or perhaps one that has a regular place to sleep and a source of food, but is still given licence to roam as it will and trusted to return in its own good time. Lacking any better guide, he can clearly do much worse than Tom, who has been in Dale long enough to know one street from another and can be trusted not to get the pair lost for long.

The book contains records of payments made and received, and "merchandise" that isn't clearly identified but which seems to have been bought and sold by the ounce or even a part of one for a surprisingly large sum of money. One major outgoing, repeated a few times over several pages, is "To the Brothers, Stalker's Marsh" for, on each occasion, many ounces of "merchandise". Another recent payment was to "The Thrice-Scarred", a cryptic title that Rowena recognises though she has never personally met the individual referenced --

It has been city rumour for some time that the vicious street gang known as "Scarfaces" are not merely the more or less harmless ne'er-do-wells to be found in a few other rival bands that Rowena knows of, but a more malign organisation altogether with some shadowy figure pulling their strings. It is thought, though never proven, that particularly experienced and savage gang members are awarded a second scar as a badge of rank... and that above these there is someone else of still higher rank and carefully preserved anonymity overseeing all.

Stuck in between the pages of the book is another slip of paper written in a different hand. It says simply Given the recent fall in the price of precious stones, you will understand the need to expand your business enterprises aggressively. Excuses for failure will not be tolerated. Manpower has been made available to you; see that it is put to good use.

(Aside: The companions did notice that when the time came to sell some loot recently, they found jewels harder to sell and attracting lower prices than expected. They may not have been the only ones feeling the pinch)

Most of the persons referred to in the book are mentioned only by initials, and Rowena suspects it may be more than she and Eli can do to make much further progress unaided. She does, however, know of someone who might be able to help, a man named Gerhardt the Just. Supposedly an offshoot of the Bard family tree although not close enough to be considered royalty in any sense, Gerhardt has two sterling qualities that suggest themselves here: he is reputedly the most incorruptible man for thirty leagues or more, and he knows everyone who is anyone in Dale.

While Rowena and Eli have been at work on this, Gabe and Tom are interrupted in their search by the arrival of an unusually large and alert-looking raven, which they notice perching on a water-butt and looking them over and which, when they pass by, follows them and perches on the top of an open door. Seeing them pause to look at it, the bird clearly articulates one word: "Collar!"

They observe that it is indeed wearing one, which it suffers them to remove, and which they find is made of a narrow strip of some sheer material, which they are able to unroll. Written on it is a long trail of carefully-scribed elf-letters. Tom, who found the elf-alphabet easy to grasp, has no trouble deciphering this and reads thereon:

Fraternal greetings! I am pleased to report that we have some insights concerning the "Lone Rock" and the "Grey Wolf" which concerned you at our last meeting. Time wants for a long message, so I will say only this: if it pleases you to return swiftly and in good order for the fight, we may timely remind Orcs and Wolves both not to seek to make common cause here. I am sure you would enjoy the exercise and we for our part would be glad of the willing hands. Baron Corvo will be your guide if you ask him. He has few words, but he comprehends much more than he utters. Your friend, Idhrenion

The raven looks intelligently at the druid and the sorcerer.

Eli rubs his chin thoughtfully and says to Rowena, "If you're willing, by all means, let's consult with this Gerhardt the Just fellow. I'd be interested to hear what he has to say, and to find out if he recognizes any of the initials in this book. The slip of paper seems to me like it probably came from the Scarfaces' master (or mistress) and that they're not meeting that person's expectations for either ill-dealing... or illicit profit."

Beecher practices shots of all sorts. From long range down to Point-Blank Shot, Precise Shot and some with extra penetrating power. He also tries a few trick shots with 2 arrows at once, but is clearly not skilled at this technique.

"So Arewe, you're from Rohan. I hear there are vast rolling grasslands with large herds of horses and cattle. What else can you tell me of your far off land?"

Rowena nods to Eli. "Yes, no doubt he'll have plenty to say." She'll follow him out the door.

Tom says to Gabe "We can continue your search for a suitable hound - or even buy one (we have enough party gold!) Meanwhile let's arrange things with this fine bird."
Tom bows to the raven and says carefully "Thank you. Please stay with us. We soon join our friends and will then travel with you."

Arewe nods politely. "You describe my land pretty well...our capital Edoras is situated on a lonely hill rising from the plains. We border the land of Gondor (with whom we are allied), the forest of Fangorn (which houses Ents!) and the fortress of Isengard (where the traitor Saruman once ruled.)

The sorcerer and druid soon rejoin the others, with the raven perching on that shoulder of Gade not presently hosting an owl; and the morning's news is soon exchanged.

---

Most of Dale is no more than threescore years old, having been extensively sacked during the War of the Ring while the inhabitants took shelter with their good friends and allies in the Lonely Mountain. However, when the creatures of Sauron fled in disarray with the destruction of the Ring and the fall of their Dark Lord, the Men of Dale returned to make good the damage as best they could, and in some cases rebuilt not only as good as before but as their best skill and most exact recall could accomplish; and in this they had the very able and more than willing assistance of the folk of the Mountain, for the new King of the Dwarves, Thorin III Stonehelm, had very clear views as to the value of good neighbours, holding that a prosperous Kingdom of Men would be an investment worth many times the value of any treasure he put into such an endeavour.

The house to which Rowena now leads the intrepid band is one such. While Dale within the city walls is beginning to grow crowded with the passing years, a high and well-kept wall surrounds pleasant gardens with exquisite topiary, fountains, and not a few well-worked statues that betoken both the wealth and the excellent taste of the householder, and the house itself was carefully repaired and largely reconstructed to resemble as well as possible the building as it was originally made when Dale was re-founded after the Battle of Five Armies and the Restoration of the Kingship – that early echo of the theme that would be restated in grander form in distant Gondor so many years later.

Yet if the grandeur of this gleaming stone-built house, with its two large wings, many tall windows, and imaginatively-wrought gargoyles that adorn the edges of the expensively-slated roof, might suggest a pompous lordling eager to show off his wealth and inflate his sense of his own importance, Rowena knows that such an impression could mislead. If the walls suggest a stand-offish misanthrope jealous of the little lands he holds, the tall iron gates before his house generally stand open at all hours of the day, and she has some confidence that her request for a sudden interview will not be spurned.

On presenting herself and her still-new friends at Gerhardt’s door, and giving a polite but not over-informative account of her business to the smartly-dressed footman who answers the bell, Rowena is far from surprised to find themselves admitted at once to a comfortable and well-furnished parlour suitable to accommodating such a gathering at short notice. This has familiar overtones to Eli Proudfoot, who last saw something like this at Great Smials and cannot quite suppress a feeling of trepidation at the uncomfortable association – still, he comforts himself, at least he does not have to give an accounting of himself to an outraged Thain on this occasion, and this Man of Dale has at least as good a sense of the refreshments proper to set before visitors who are kept waiting, and Eli has a better appetite for them than on the prior occasion. As for Tom, the fare is easily as good as anything he has seen since he was a guest of the Elves, leading him to remark internally that it was never like this down at Smokeholes. Gade barely moistens the inside of a piece of cut crystal with a thimbleful of gorgeous-smelling spirit from a set of bottles on a gilded silver tantalus, and laconically observes: “My lord lives well”.

For those who prefer not to drink such strong waters as burned-wine at this hour of the day, there is a flask of excellent wine. The footman informs you that Lord Gerhardt will join you “ere this sand-glass runs out”, and shows you one that is already running, of the size that would be turned every half an hour and is already at least a third spent. From the half-open window the morning hubbub of Dale can still be heard, but muffled as if by more than mere distance. Surely, whatever mischief is abroad in the fair city, this place at least is unaffected.

Eli looks around, smiles, shrugs and reaches for the flask and a glass. "Never pass up the opportunity to eat, drink, nap or... relieve yourself, as my Great Uncle Aubrey used to say," he jokes.

Tom is happy to be getting information from Gerhardt (especially in peaceful surroundings.

He politely reminds the party that:

- there is a party healing potion available if anyone is injured
- we have an invitation to visit Idhrenion the Elf to discuss previous encounters.

Rowena takes a swallow of the burned-wine without much of a wince. She's too busy hungrily drinking in the wealth in the surroundings to notice anything happening in her throat.

As promised, the man of the house is not long in arriving. Of no very great stature, Gerhardt the Just compensates by having a certain steely strength that is apparent both in his posture and in his demeanour. However, he seems to know something about Rowena in particular, and addresses himself mainly to her during the ensuing conversation, while by no means neglecting the rest of the company. As the party unfolds the story so far, he listens with an air of keen intelligence, nodding here and there and occasionally inserting a question that is always to the point.

Eventually he nods firmly and says "You have done well so far, and wisely in choosing to lay this matter before me. There are some very strange matters afoot in these times and I have been hearing a number of odd tales -- some of which are disquieting. I suggest you leave this to me for a while; I think I know my way around city intrigue a little better than a band such as this, and if you have been treading on some influential toes with your efforts last night it might be no bad thing if you took a short leave of absence. Of the doings of Elves outside the city limits I know rather less, but if your friend wishes to see you soon and has an errand in mind then you should, I think, attend to that as soon as you can. The lands around here have been peaceful and mercifully free of wolves and Orcs alike since the War, so I have always heard, and the longer they stay that way the better for all concerned.

"I do have a handy couple of sturdy lads I could put your way: one with an axe and one with a good longsword of Dale. If you are agreeable, they will join you by the East-gate promptly at noon. Do take care of them." He smiles, then adds:

"When you have dealt with this, do please come and see me again. It is on my heart that we shall have more to say to each other."

Gerhardt is willing to converse further if there is anything anyone wishes to discuss.

Something about these remarks rubs Eli Proudfoot the wrong way; he wonders if Gerhardt is truly Just, or has merely developed a reputation for being so. He will discuss this impression with Rowena privately when he has an opportunity.

Tom thinks that if Gerhardt is reliable, then the party has a clear path ahead - accept the two sturdy lads and follow the raven Baron Corvo to a rendezvous with the Elf Idhrenion.
(Once we have defeated various Wargs and Orcs, we can return to Dale and pursue further inquiries with Gerhardt's help.)

So Tom politely asks Gerhardt if the party can step briefly out and have a discussion. Then we ask Rowena how much trust we place in Gerhardt...

Gerhardt is happy to accommodate your wishes and seems to take no offence. The more discerning members of the party OOC: those whose Sense Motive skills are worth mentioning cannot see anything wrong with Gerhardt's demeanour or speech that would suggest he was anything other than sincere, and Rowena can only reiterate that this man has had an excellent reputation for many years.

"This man has had an excellent reputation for many years," Rowena reiterates.

It's frustrating that he's dissuading them from going directly after the fiends they just encountered. Especially since they're the only ones she personally cares about right now. The Elf, the yellow powder... all that's more than Rowena bargained for. She just wants justice for her friend and perhaps some vengeance for that stab in her side.

Still, it's experience she can use for some future story or song. The opulence of Gerhardt's home is ripe for a setting, that's for sure.

"Me, I'm wondering about these two men he's offered us." Her tone is wry and joking as she adds, "I mean it's generous but do they even know they've just been 'volunteered' by their... Father? Master? Friend? Or... whatever he is to them."

Since she trusts Eli and suspects he might have something particular in mind, she turns to him with interest. "What is it that concerns you?"

Personally she's curious about why Gerhardt addressed her so often, and so intently, but shrugs it off as his being neighborly to a local. Or maybe he thinks she's too young to go on such a quest? If she gets a chance maybe she'll try to speak to him privately.

Eli rubs his chin thoughtfully. "I don't know. It's... kind of hard to say. In part, I suppose, I don't like being told not to go after apparent wrongdoers once they've come across my path. And, hmm, his bearing and speech." He shrugs. "It's just an impression, a feeling I have, little more, I confess. If the party is inclined to take the man's advice, I will not gainsay it."

Rowena does have the chance for a word aside with Gerhardt; he gives her the nod at one point indicating that he was hoping for such an opportunity to suggest the idea himself. He says "I have been wondering when a day like this would come, and I thought perhaps it might not be long. You will blush perhaps to hear it, but I can tell you now that your name came up a number of times in conversations that I used to have with the most excellent Master Heribert. Yes, the very same, before he took his leave -- and not even I know where or upon what business, though I hope to be the first in Dale to learn.

"For this business that you have brought before me, I think it may be for the best if I look into it discreetly. There may be some persons of influence involved in this, and it could be dangerous to embarrass them. Yes, I know. We should be able to expect better. But it seems to be the human condition. Of Dale before the Dragon came I know no true tale; but you know that Lake-Town prospered well in days of yore, and grew lazy and foolish, under the governorship of a Master who knew well how to keep his office, and little of how to discharge it when danger came. It may be that, since the War and in the peace and plenty we now enjoy, we are growing soft again. If so, though, it will do little good to address something like this too directly or too soon. Let me see what I can accomplish without treading on the wrong toes.

"As for you and this band of companions I see you have gathered -- I should not be surprised to see you do great things before long. I think your Master expected no less."

---

Meanwhile, and not being a party to the above, Gade observes to the rest of you, "It is strange what human beings will do when crowded together within city walls. I understand it little -- why people should trade in mind-clouding dust or why others should be customers for it. For me, it makes me long to breathe cleaner air, even that of an orc-den. Yet, if there is business to do in Dale... Perhaps it is best left to such as yon. Many there be in a town like this I would not trust for three days together in a forest without finding fifty ways to poison themselves or lose themselves not half a day's march from safety. It may be that I am as untaught as they for a time and place like ours. Am I swayed by the chance to meet our friendly forest-master again and engage in some cleaner labours? Very well, I admit it. Still it seems to me a good and worthy thing to do."

"Aye, getting out of town and out to the real world is always for the best. Though I would hardly go as far as wishing to breath the foul airs of an Orc-Den."

Beecher looks uneasy, almost like he has stayed to long in Dale.

"I came for supplies and some Dale Pale Ale, I should be getting out of town again soon."

Tom says it looks like using the raven to meet the Elf is the popular decision.
He asks the party if they want to add Gerhardt's two fighters.

Rowena is more than a little starstruck by the flattering impression Gerhardt seems to have of her--and it's so like Heribert to withhold his praise to her face, but offer it freely to another. Her master would rather give away a gold coin than a kind word to an apprentice directly. And Heribert never gave a coin away easily.

She asks Gerhardt for any details of why her name came up at all, though she's prepared to be disappointed.

Finally she thanks Gerhardt for the information and advice, but doesn't leave without begging him to send for her, somehow, if he does hear any news of her master. She's gained some experience since he left, after all, and she might be of use to him by now.

If there is nothing else that spurs her to ask more questions, she'll hasten to her comrades and share Gerhardt's (non-Heribert-related) comments. Well, mostly non-Heribert related. She can't help slipping in a stray mention of Gerhardt's second-hand esteem of her. Containing her pride is like placing a candle in a ill-mended mug: no use pretending to hide it; flickers of golden happiness keep peeking out through the cracks.

To Tom, Rowena agrees to the fighters. She was reluctant before, for some reason, but now it's hard for her to remain wary of men connected to someone as trustworthy as Gerhardt. (And he must be trustworthy, she reasons--Heribert surely wouldn't have mentioned her to him, otherwise.)

"Glad for you, Rowena," Eli says with a slight smile. "At least he knows good folk when he meets them."