Tynia glances at Karok, Ordil, and Jak with that no nonsence look, tugging the hood closer about her face said,

"I'd rather not have ale or anything of that nature. Do you have water?"

She wasn't about to drink so early (for her) as it tends to do things to her and she did not want that.

Dûrwë accepts the offered ale with a nod and genuine smile, and drinks when Karok makes the toasting gesture.

With a satisfied Ah! sound Dûrwë sets down his ale on the table, and says to Jak, "we've come to Falcon's Hollow to offer whatever assistance we can in aiding the suffering, and remedy the disease that plagues your town. Your brother has not forgotten his roots and has graciously given us aid in our endeavor."

Brett sits down and looks around the place. Nice place, He thought. At the mention of ale he turns his head and nods in response.

He took up the glass and sips at it, grimacing at the taste. Now he knew why the monks at the monastary said about the evils of drink.

He glances at Jak, said, "I'd like some water, if you will?"
This message was last updated by the player at 02:23, Mon 14 Nov 2022.

Jak fills a mug with water from a small barrel behind the counter and smiles at the female elf as he slides it across to her, then does the same for Brett.

"The best in town for you. None cleaner and fresher than that from Brookman's well."

He looks at the male elf questioningly.

"Indeed!? It’s a bad thing this sickness, almost like any other, but yeh get the mold a growin' in yeh. Starts eatin' away at yeh chest n' belly n' is damned determined ta stay. Body near turns itself inside out tryin' ta hack the stuff up, but all that does is cuts your guts up… real bad like. Some's got skin problems too.”

"Yeh fellas know somethin bout this stuff? What causes it n' how ta gets rid of it?"
This message was last updated by the GM at 02:30, Mon 14 Nov 2022.

"Durwe (Jhaelin places a hand on the elf's shoulder) here has the quick of it. We are here in answer to a call for adventurers from my si -(cough)- umm, from the herbalist Laurel regarding this situation."

Jhaelin drinks his mug of ale rather quickly and places the empty stein on the counter.

"In fact, we await her here. If you would be so kind, we could use a little food and be shown to our rooms before she arrives. I would wash the grime from my face."

As soon as Jhaelin speaks, Jak's eyebrows shoot up and he squints while pushing that bothersome red lock of red hair back on his balding head.

"Ahhhhhh. yeahhh I thought I knows yeh. You from 'round here aint yeh?"
This message was last updated by the GM at 02:29, Mon 14 Nov 2022.

"I grew up here," Jhaelin replies. His face is one of complete steadfastness. "The troublesome kid you might have known is no more. I am known by Jhaelin now, a devout acolyte to the church of Heironeous and by his guidance, grace and Will, we will help these people. They are my people. My home."

It is almost two hours later and the party have been given their rooms and washed up. A meal was devoured while they waited in the lobby for the herbalist Laurel. Suddenly, voices can be heard coming from the foyer of the Inn. Hidden from their view the party listens, hoping that finally Laurel is to make her appearance.

"You may not be happy." echoes Jak's voice.

"Don't be absurd Jak Crimmy, I have never ever discriminated against another race, elven or dwarven. Now, the halflings tend to bother me, but I never speak ill of them either. I may have the cure to this thing, if the scrolls are to be believed, and I need adventuerers to find--"

"That's not what I meant. You will see. This way."

Moments later Jak Crimmy and a thirtyish looking woman enter the lobby of the Inn. The adventurers are the only patrons and she regards them, immediately noting the elves and dwarf. She approaches the table and finally gets a look at the two figures who had their back to her. Her warm smile vanishes.

"You!" she exclaims, looking at Jhaelin. Her gaze is stern and stone cold when it shifted back to Jak Crimmy. The innkeeper shrugs indicating an 'I told you so'.

"Care to explain?"

"Hi Sis." Jhealin says, standing politely and nodding a greeting to her. "You seek adventurers and I have brought them. We will find whatever the scroll calls for. I have not told them of the scroll, as that is your business."
~NPC~

Laurel crosses her arms and looks around at the gathered adventurers.

"And what has Bhaener promised you?"

Ordil had been enjoying sipping his drink and spending a night in a tavern that would not end in slipping out a window with one shoe on and an innkeeper chasing him with a hot poker. Already some of the group's noble attitude had rubbed off on him and the old cons and shell games seemed somehow beneath him.

So when Laurel entered, Ordil was a bit surprised at the animosity directed at the young cleric. A devilish smile passes over his face as he envisions a tarnished history of jilted love and bastard children. And the truth of the matter was almost as shocking. Obviously the priest wasn't being hard on himself when he said he used to be a troublemaker

Ordil rose and took the opportunity to find out more.

"Greetings Madam. My name is Ordil Longfellow, hunter of treasures and defender of small children from wild beasts." A kiss of the hand was here at least attempted, "And Jhealin here is a stalwart soul who regardless of his prior transgressions, which I am now quite curious of"

He glanced at Jhaelin with eyebrows raised,

"offers an shining example for those of us still drawn astray by the call of damnation. So let's get to talking about this scroll, and maybe work out a family feud while we're at it."

Tynia, having bathed and freshened up, looks more like herself than ever. She remains seated listening in on the conversation. Her brows went up at Jhaelin's mention of the word sis to Laurel.

I see. Brother and sister, she thought.

She heard what came next then and at Ordil's response. How gentlemanly, She thought again.

She had her plate of vegatables before nibbling at them and listening.

"Scroll," she said not sure she heard right. "What kind of scroll?" It was one thing to talk about something like that and not ask a question since her passion was for magic things, so she wanted to know what kind of scroll could they be looking for. Was it magic and what kind of magic did it possess?

Oh, good, Karok thought to himself. A dinner show.

He drowned his smile in ale rather than show it, but did find it curiously validating that his was not the only family with troubles in dealing with each other.

So. Scrolls and such. Not much he could contribute here. This was the time for listening. And quietly drinking.

Jhaelin grimaces, his face reddening as if pained when Ordil mentions past transgressions, but he quickly recovers.

"I am called Jhaelin now Laurel, after one of Heironeous' favored paladins and whom I wish to model my life now. The past is the past... as is where it should stay."

"I have promised twenty five gold coins for each of them on success."

Brett looks from Jhaelin to Laurel in confusion. Who was this Bhoener? Could it be Jhaelin and if so why change it? It didn't make sense, but Brett knew when to keep his mouth shut at this point.

Twenty-five gold, that's a lot, He thought. But then shrugged. He did not mind that though. To him Jhaelin was Jhaelin, no matter how one styles himself. He was always true to himself.

Laurel ignores the attempt at kissing her hand. She was obviously unaffected by Ordil's charm as she continued to stand with crossed arms in a very stoic stance.

"Very nice to meet you Ordil," she says. "But that does not answer my question."

She turns to Jhaelin as he speaks, her lips pursing at the news of a promised twenty five gold coins each. She quickly does the math.

"Twenty five gold apiece?" Laurel exclaims in surprise. She sighs in obvious feigned exasperation. "Well, I suppose I'm not doing all this for free either. If nothing else, this whole thing's been good for business."

Laurel smiles while Jhaelin's face turns crimson. Was he embarrassed? Angry? She supposed she would never know and certainly was not going to ask him.

"Oh Bhaener. You make promises you can not keep. But that does not mean it is not possible."

Laurel's mind seemed to be calculating as she pulls out a chair to sit.

"I have but a few more minutes before I have to return to the store. More than thirty townsfolk have the taint, honestly, though at least three times that thinks they have it."

This last statement brings a seemingly misplaced smile.

"A few have even left town. According to Lady Cirthana, it is not especially deadly, but a general lack of supplies and poor conditions in this lumber town means that many of the sick face mortal consequences."

Laurel turns her attention to Tynia, noting her elven features with wonder.

"I have in my possession a tome with recipes, cures, and spells for aids which have been handed down through generations. It is the root source of my herbalist business. There's one last treatment in scroll form from the cultic appendices of the tome-- scribed in a hand that is not my grandmother's-- that I have yet to try. You see, I dont have the time to chase after fanciful salvation but would rather do what I can for the sick with what I know."

"Anyway, the treatment takes some rare roots and concentrations, most of which I have here, but there's three I don't. These are the ones I put a call out for adventurers for."
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:34, Mon 14 Nov 2022.

Tynia listens, her brow rose. "Rare roots and concentrations, and what would those be?" she questions a bit disappointed but relishing the task of finding anything rare. Perhaps, it would also be interesting for her as well? Who knows. "And where would these rare objects be found?" She asked.

Perhaps she knew of them, if she knew what Laurel was after, that is.

Dûrwë watched Laurel curiously as she entered the inn as big as life and make accusations about his newfound companion Jhaelin.

He takes a step forward, bows slightly at the waist, and says formally with an easy smile, "my name Dûrwë Ondosumé, and it a pleasure to meet you. You are no doubt stressed by the current situation, and so your inadvertent indiscretion is understandable. Your brother has only shown compassion and true empathy for those suffering here, and he has been nothing but a gentleman and fine traveling companion."

"You called for adventurers," Karok put in. "Your brother gathered adventurers. So what three things do you want us to look for?"

"So you need to get the town back on its feet and the timber flowing again?" offers Ordil. "Well, we'll try to make it worth the coin. But Tynia's got sense to ask if you know what kind of place this secret blend of herbs is a-hiding in? And I'd like to know what kind of danger can be expect there."

Karok flashed a look over at Ordil who had apparently entirely missed his input on the conversation.

"Ignore the dwarf at your peril," he muttered darkly.

Jhaelin sits back down and leans back in his chair. The first ever sour look sits on his face, an unusual sight for his new friends to see.

"It is Jhaelin now Laurel. I am sure you have been doing quite well with the practice."

His tone is condescending, and this time it is Laurel's face that reddens.

"I appreciate your aiding the families of the sick as best you can Laurel —although your proscriptions are little more than bed rest and a pungent black urdroot tea."

"We have a difference of opinion, you and I, and that will not change. I happen to believe though, that the curative in that scroll will help these people. I have divine guidance in this and have come to help."

At this last, Jhaelin looks around at his friends. Will they think me struck mad, he wonders.

"Please just tell us what we need and we can be on our way. We can figure the rest out later."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:38, Mon 14 Nov 2022.

"Divine guidance? Seeing ghosts again Bhoener?"

The elves fascinated Laurel. It is evident in her expression as they speak to her. She listens to Tynia's questions, then regards Durwe as he speaks.

"I am Laurel Barker, though not of that profession here. Our father is- was a barker for the logging consortium here. It is a pleasure to meet you as well."

She had met a couple of dwarves before, and this one lives up to their well known traits. Short and to the point. Laurel smiles at her own joke.

"Okay master dwarf and Ordil Longfellow. I will tell you what I need."

"Elderwood moss, which I’ve never heard of, but granny says the stuff only grows on the oldest tree in a forest. Something druids cultivate and I know of no druids around here, but there has to be an eldest tree somewhere in the forest right? Damned if I know where though.

"A specially pickled root called rat’s tail... sounds like hoojoo to me.

She considers a thought come unbidden to her mind.

"Well... Actually... Ulizmila, the witch that lives deep in the woods might. She’s a crafty, mean thing that knows all sorts of strangeness. She might even have one. I don’t know what she might want for it, but I doubt it’d come cheap. My grandmother traded her sight to the old crone for a few pages of what she knew- which includes this scroll, and that was years and years back. I don’t know a soul who got any nicer as they got older.”

And lastly, seven ironblooms. Stunty little shrooms. Little things that only grow in dark places thick with metal. But, there are no mines around here I know of.”

Laurel stares at Jhaelin for a moment, something important passing between them silently within their glares, then she stands.

"I must get back to the store. You can find me there from new sun to new moon. If you go looking for these things, go out to the Consortium Lumber Camp to the east and look for Milon Rhoddam— the most experienced woodsman in the Consortium. He might know something with his experiences here."

Jhaelin sits very still, staring at the mug of ale which he holds tightly with both hands, his knuckles whitened in the effort.

Laurel excuses herself politely from the table and is escorted to the door by Jak, whom had been listening to the conversation.

To anyone who notices, Laurel stops and speaks in low tones to the innkeeper. Whatever she says to him, jolts the rotund man like a lightning strike and both of them turn their heads toward the table.

Laurel places a hand on Jak's arm, but he is already moving. Laurel leaves through the foyer and Jak walks right up to the table and rudely knocks both mugs of water from the table from which Tynia and Brett had been drinking. His face could not be any whiter.