New people:

• Townsfolk at Xantharl’s keep; guard, stable hand (not a dwarf or a dwarf on stilts)
• Azastra the Half-ogre innkeeper at the Fallen Orc.
• Larg – the dwarf also known as Weevil
• 8 unidentified culty figures, including a leader who looks like a priest

Current Quests:

• Find the Weevil – Xantharl’s Keep
• Decode runes on adamantine – Mirrabar library
• Finding Harshnagg – Bryn Shander
• Before we begin: One horse chosen, one horse’s name spelling changed (Magloyan)

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The gang follow the winding path to the sea to the south. There is a light snow cover on a beautiful, crisp day. Red leaves fall from the trees. The trip takes about two days, with the terrain becoming increasingly rugged. A heavy layer of snow falls overnight.

As the road thins out, the area starts to feel wild, the road rugged, as ahead they see the smoke from the chimneys of Xantharl’s keep.

Londer looks out for something to shoot and eat with his crossbow, eventually downing a sensational deer. With glee and pride, he serves it up for breakfast. As they wander down the track, Miss Moss is teaching herself to whistle as she absorbs the landscape. Thoradin rides on a comfortable saddle, with a bottle of port and a pipe. He’s enjoying the balmy weather. The gang are settled but alert.

Xantharl’s keep is a fortified village, well-protected by its high walls. Xantharl is a famous adventurer from centuries earlier. At the gates, they move into the town past guards who don’t challenge them, just wave them through with a grim nod, but they stop and Miss Moss asks one of the guards, “Who runs this place?”

The guard gruffly replies, “A guy named Narbek. He reports to the ruler of the place.” He goes on to explain that as long as they don’t get into any trouble they should be welcome here.

Inside the walls are rows upon rows of stone buildings. The people in the Keep don’t seem to pay much attention – some glance up – but it does appear that some do seem to be talking about them. They don’t seem to have ill-intent, but they’ve taken notice.  

They ask around and learn there is really only one pub, the Fallen Orc. Someone in the stables attends to their horses but it’s not a dwarf (or a dwarf on stilts).  They go inside and find a good place to hang out, with the barkeep a very large half-ogre woman.  People are playing cards and throwing daggers against the wall, which immediately draws Miss Moss and Thoradin in. There is much laughter and good times as the gang make new friends and genuinely enjoy themselves.

Londer has a few drinks and gets a bit silly, splashing cash around in front of the bartender, impressing her with his travel stories. He asks about her life and what she’s doing after work, but she cocks her head to the side, curious as to his intentions, and asks, “What you want, anyway?” Londer doesn’t respond, but smirks and orders another ale.

Miss Moss notices the failure to connect and signals Gunther, who immediately saunters over and Londer, taking his cues, switches to wingman mode.

“Hello, pussy cat!” she says as Gunther approaches the bar.

“I’d like three beers… for you!” She pours them and drinks them, belching wildly. Gunther, ever the gentleman, returns the belch. She’s charmed, but only so much. It’s not her first time. She continues to work. Soon enough, Gunther offers her another three drinks and she accepts.

“Do you like music?” Gunther asks, grandiose. She spies the bagpipes hanging off his side and says, “I hope you know how to use them.”

“Oh, I know how to use them.”

She continues serving as Gunther sets himself up in position and begins to play a song that he is making up on the fly about the barkeep. She is listening while she works and everyone watches her cheeks darken into a green blush. There is a small round of applause, and the gang are high fiving down low.

Gunther asks her what she’s doing after work. She looks down shyly, “Nothing”. Jackpot. Connection. With everything going well, Leshanna retires for the evening, while Miss Moss and Thoradin continue playing dagger darts.

At the dagger dart board, Thoradin tries to get some information, learning that staking out the stables will not result in finding the Weevil. The night continues. At closing, the half-ogre barkeep kicks everyone out but looks at Gunther pointedly. “You can stay.”

Londer raises his eyebrows to check all is ok, and Gunther gives a double thumbs up.

Gunther and the half-ogre make sweet love

A lovely and enthusiastically consensual time was had. While lying luxuriously in her huge bed, Gunther looks at her and asks, “Round 2?” She smiles warmly.

Sometime later, as they are lying around in bed and Gunther is rubbing her enormous back, he asks the half-ogre about the town. In between moans and grunts as Gunther kneads her giant knots, she explains the lay of the land, including mentioning that there are some dwarves in town, but she has not heard of Weevil.

She did, however, take pity on a dwarf named Larg who was caught in an avalanche. His party was killed while they were killing a dragon, she says, and he works in the stables during the day. He may even sleep there, she wonders out loud. It’s a stable, not far from the pub, she says, and tells him the general location.

When Gunther returns to the adventurers, after many high fives and celebrations, Gunther shares what he knows.

Londer, Thoradin and Gunther head to the stables to find Larg while Leshanna and Miss Moss hover nearby “exchanging recipes” in case things turn bad.  They approach the stable, but the door is closed. Thoradin calls out, “Hello, is anyone there?”

Thoradin pushes open the door and they see a dwarf inside cleaning the stables. He turns at the sound and faces the gang. The dwarf has a wild look in his eyes. It is the Weevil.

Above the Weevil there is a pulley system platform to raise and lower hay, tools hanging around, with the whole stable heavy with the stench of horses.

Thoradin casually asks if the gang can stable the horses, then having a casual conversation with the dwarf, saying they heard about him from the pub nearby, and they’re on a quest for the red dragon nearby.

“That’s right, I was hunting for one. I ran into some trouble and didn’t find it.” The dwarf stands up a little straighter, puts on a serious face.

“Can we sit and talk, I’ve got a little drink?” Thoradin pulls out his hip flask with a couple of little glasses.

Larg – the Weevil – looks over at Londer. Londer tries to smile reassuringly and says, “Yes. Dragon!”

Larg retells the story of losing his party in an avalanche then turns to the team and says earnestly, his face changing: “I know what you’re here for. I’m just trying to make a go of it here. There’s no dragon, I think you know that. I’m just doing what I can to survive. I’ve done some bad things in my time – I’ve robbed, stolen, even killed. You know what it’s like out on the road.” He looks down, bashful. They do know what it’s like on the road.

Londer smiles blankly. He is thinking of something else completely, off in a daze.

Gunther sees Larg shifting on his seat. Thoradin, wanting to get to the truth of it, casts Zone of Truth, as Londer, now back with the program, takes out his axe and rests it on his shoulder, meaningfully.

Outside, as Miss Moss and Leshanna are talking on the corner, a jangling sound, like beads moving rhythmically, is making its way down the street towards them. Walking down the road is a group of eight figures, looking like townsfolk except for the man in the front who is carrying a chain and a hood. The beads jostle as he walks towards the building in his tattered robes.

He has a strange quality – his skin is very, very pale, almost translucent, while the robes seem to be someone else’s. He doesn’t match. There is no authenticity to his appearance, no one religion they recognise.

The man walks up to the door of the stables and goes inside. The Weevil, hunched inside begging for repreive from Gunther, Thoradin and Londer, says, “They’re here.”