PrP: Betelgeuse Betelgeuse Be...
PrP: Betelgeuse Betelgeuse Be... Ga'Elian (running), Myaris (Sor3), Lenore (Swb5), Aya (Mnk5), Virton (Art5)
H02: The Felwood "A farmer has been losing livestock to what he believes are giant beetles."
It's Kesenday, Hattanani 13 12:15:00 1018. The full moon is up. The tide is low and ebbing. The sky is cloudy grey, and nothing casts a shadow. The southwest wind is mild.
SET: It is approximately mid-day, and the Adventurers Guild has sent you a small farming village, where some of the farmland borders the edge of the Felwood. The farmers understand the risks, but the soil is perfect for their crops. The mission briefing indicated finding some of their fields torn up on several mornings recently in the hours before sunrise, and one farmer believed he saw some man-sized beetles attacking his pigs by the scant light of a crescent moon. With the havoc they wreaked in his fields, it won't exactly require a ranger to follow their tracks. You have all arrived at the village's pub, and the farmers are there with you.
Yawning wide is Lenore, looking like she'd just crawled out of bed, her usually wild locks some haphazard example of their former glory, skewed this way and that. There's a bleariness to her usually clear, keen gaze and her weapon is already drawn as they approach the farm, the back of her free hand rubbing against one of her eyes as she tries to stifle a second yawn as they reach the doors to the pub. She shoves the door open, holding it open for any who wish to go before her, but is curiously silent.
With his smoking pipe already screwed into his face, Virton puffs out a harsh trais of black smoke as he walks, spurs giving an audible *tink* *tink* *tink* noise with each step from his armoured frame. His poor, poor poncho still remains upon his form, tattered, torn, stained and abused, yet still showing small patches of bright colouration over it, giving the Golem at least some hint of colour. His head bobs at Lenore as she holds the door open, giving a blurt of static noise that might sound like an appreciative grunt - if you understand Virton's noises, anyway. "Iffin' you are tired, partner, I brought along some of the coffee stuff that ya seemd ta like." He buzzes, as he paces on the inside.
Myaris is here and she has her hood up, always best to keep from upsetting the common people that way. She just is along for the listening at the moment, not always best in dealing with people. She does move to follow after and smiles as the door is opened.
"Like... is a relatively strong word, Clive. Much like your 'coffee'." Lenore murmurs to the golem, staring at him through her one open eye, heaving a sigh. "But, thank you kindly... partner." She manages one of those half-cocked grins of hers, despite her desperate state of exhaustion. Once everyone has passed into the pub, she'll follow along with her telltale swager, her head tilting back just so, her smirk turning to masking smile as she looks over the farmers. "Alright... we're here to help. Happy to do it."
"Well it sure perked ya up last time." Virton/Clive buzzes in response, apparently still mostly unable to comprehend the fact that his coffee could be substituded for an exceptionally strong rust and paint stripping cleanser. He comes to a stop as the other two come in, obviously preferring to let those with, y'know, flesh and blood do the majority of the talking to people. It can be a bit difficlut to be seen as a friendly adventurer when your eyes glow orange, you talk a bit wierd, and black smoke slowly purs from a tube connected in your mouth.
The farmers smile with relieved looks at Lenore's last statement. One say, "If'n your're ready, then, I'll point you towards the field we think they were at this morning. You should be able to find their trail there, easily enough."
Myaris nods her head a little, "And it is beetles you say?" she asks, her voice coming from within the hood that keeps her features hidden.
Virton nods his head, and this time chooses to turn around and open the door for the others, holding it open with his heel so that the others can easily get on past and the farmer can begin leading the way for the small party.
"Just point me in the right direction, and I'll see to it you never have a problem again." Lenore winks, "The San Antigua guarantee." She glances toward the Sorcerer, still smiling broadly as she meanders toward the exit, "Beetles, undead, hell moths, animated dreams... whatever it is, it'll be mulch soon enough, and plenty of it. Your corps will be fantastic come harvest. And when they are, don't forget yoru good friend Lenore."