May Day

As Rorik shared his mead with the thirsty workers in front of Lliira's shrine, Thor must have looked down in content for a strong gust of wind blew away the last of the clouds in front of the sun and the village basked in its rays. A bald man with a top hat approached him just as he finished his fifth drink. He offered his hand.
"Hello master dwarf, a free day to you. Mayor Clane is the name. I'm terribly sorry to ask this and I hope not to offend, but I must insist that we keep all trade until the market tomorrow. Else there will be accusations that I'm favouring people and letting them have an unfair advantage and you know... I hope the Hanging Boar inn has a good room for you to stay in."

Farmer Wilsom opened his mouth several times to say something, but hesistated as the two elves rambled amongst themselves. When Durin-Daine offered his advice, he burst.
"I came here to drink and rant amongst friends in peace, not to be badgered by some outsiders with gold in there eyes."
Megan lay her hand upon his.
"Easy now Wilsom, they just want to help."
The farmer collected himself and huffed.
"I'm sure they want to help, but this one want won't do it for free. What do I look like, some noble? I barely got the coin to put these clothes on my body. You know what? I got a sheep for you as reward. I guess I would lose much more if I just leave them running around."
"I can add a meal and drinks to that," Megan offered, "it would mean a lot for me if you helped my friend."
"And of course all the wolf pups you can carry out of the forest," the farmer smirked at Bryn. He then turned to Durin-Daine.
"I pretty sure it were wolves Master Dwarf. What else would leave such bite marks? I lay the two carcasses near my shed. See if I can salvage something later. It's strange though that they would venture so far out of the forest for just a meal."

"A free meal and drinks? Count me in!" Aidan jumped up and stood behind Durin-Daine, putting a hand on his shoulder. "What do you say, double D? Ale, wolves, adventure! My body is ready! Just let me go get my stuff!"

Aidan made for the stairs and ran upstairs, ready to get his backpack and flute for an adventure.

Lath's hand went to his face, covering his eyes as he rubbed his temples.  

If they were going to do this, and get some sort of minor reward in the process, he was going to have to put up with the stench of a dwarf and the awful screechings of the rest of the dwarves friends.

The alternative was to sit back in this tiny town and listen to even more of the humans blather on about the things that were so challenging to their short lives.

"My elven friend and I would be willing to lead the party that will rid you of your wolf problem, and a sheep is a fair trade for our services."  The elf said as his hand came down and he gave the farmer a reassuring smile.  "Would you be able to draw us a map of the area so that we know where to go?"

It took considerable self control for Durin-Daine to refrain from placing the business end of a handaxe between the retreating shoulder blades of the bard Aidan. By the ball's of Odin, there isn't enough alcohol to save me from these people. He turned to the farmer, understandably put out by the elfin pair who so greedily desired to rob him over a matter of sheep. "Aye, it is most strange behavior." He thought on it a moment and turned to the barkeep, "Ma'am, yer tavern is likely the spot for men such as our farmer friend here to come and tell of their troubles. Have you heard anything similar from other patrons? Wolves or anything else attacking livestock or lurking in the forest?"

Bryn sat back on his stool and grinned. It would be nice to have the dwarf along. He knew enough about wolves to know that they could be dangerous and a little more armor between him and them was just fine. And, while Lath was more concerned with coin, a couple of wolf pups could easily bring them more gold than this farmer would make in a year from the right buyer. This could be a very profitable venture.

Even though the girl who had introduced herself as Meredith had frowned when the bald man ordered oatmeal ahead of a festival in celebration of abundance and exuberance, she had brought the bowl and spoon quickly and thanked the man for his coppers. Before the conversation about hungry wolves had even died down, the spoon was scraping along the bottom of the bowl for the last ground grain of nutrition. Bõ stood and headed outside leaving everyone to their discussions.

The plaza had a fountain well that the locals used for their water. It trickled from the gaping mouth of a fish down several sea shells into the basin where many a child and woman came to scoop water for their households. The bald man sat on the edge of the fountain and pulled his feet up to cross his legs in a lotus position. He closed eyes to the tumult around him and nobody looked twice in his direction. He sat there motionless with the sun striking off the skin of his skull. Not the splash of a bucket in the water or the scream of a girl being soaked by a boy with childish but amorous intentions could distract the man or evoke a reaction.

Only when the door of the Hanging Boar creaked from across the plaza did his eye espy whether the wolf hunters were to depart.

"Very strange behaviour indeed," concluded Wilsom, "They are usually such shy creatures. Anyways, there is little to say about the area. My farm is an hour walk from the village. I can take you there and to the edge of the forest. We rarely venture into the forest, because it contains much scarier things than just feral beasts. Centaurs are roaming the woods and they quick to become ornery to our kind. That is if you survive the pixie antics. They love to pull tricks on unsuspecting people. But you look like somewhat capable adventures. You'll fare much better don't you think Megan?"
The thin blonde agreed.
"Yes, but I was thinking about your question master dwarf. I remember no other tales from visitors."
She motioned her sister to come as soon as she finished serving Bo.
"Meridith? Do you remember anything?"
The brunette was much more plump than her sister, but no less graceful in her movements as she walked towards the bar.
"I did hear something strange from a halfing that visited a few weeks ago," she said while closing her eyes to dig in her memory.
"She looked like a little girl, heh, but I remember her well. The little pet serpent she carried on her shoulder was the most exotic thing I've seen in years. She mentioned that she came from the forests south of here and that she was investigating a new plant infection. Maybe the wildlife is sick too? The wolves wouldn't eat sickened flesh."

Meanwhile Aidan hurried up the stairs to get his stuff. For a moment his and Samantha's eyes met, but she immediately looked down without a hint of emotion. She looked like she was in no mood for small talk.

"All well and all," sighed Megan, "but I hope you can finish this ordeal fast, because I would hate for you all to miss the festival. It's meant to be such a happy day for all."
Meridith chuckled.
"Such concern with a festival sister, but I think they got more to worry about if they are going wolf hunting."

Aidan quickly passed Samantha when he saw she wasn't inclined to talk. He threw some water in his face, grabbed his equipment and fixed his clothing. He looked more like the lad that had left his noble house all those years ago, now that he was awake. Some food in his belly helped too, but most of all, it was that glint of adventure in his eyes. "Much better, even if I do say so myself."

With an excited spring in his step, the bard walked down the stairs and started singing.

"Lend me your ears, good comrades-in-arms,
The time for travel is at hand.
Together we will get rid of these wolves,
And make safe all of the land.

Over mountains and through forests,
Onward we will ride.
With sword, sorcery and the gods,
Ever on our side."

Aidan bowed with a small flourish and looked around the tavern's common room, a big grin on his face.

Bryn raised an eyebrow at the man's flowery words.

"Um, yeah, let's go then."

Once again Lath found himself rubbing at his temples.

Would these headaches never cease?

Was it the incessant prattling of the bard or was it the dim wit of the dwarf that was bring them on?

"Let us be off, the noise in here is too much." Lath stepped outside and let the light of the morning wash over him, taking a deep breath he prepared himself for the day, or days ahead.

For a moment, albeit a brief one, Durin-Daine had the distinct urge to shed his own person, and to become Shattershield, the wild chieftain of the Valess, and strike the singing human down with one fell blow. But he resisted, for if nothing else, the fop's noise would serve as a lure for whatever was stalking the woods. And while he was certainly one for getting his blade bloody, there was a reason he was named the Duskhammer. "Sir farmer, when you are finished with your unwinding - and whatever these lads say, ye need not rush - I will be outside, awaiting you." With that he turned and trod outside to check on the young man he'd enlisted to watch his stall.

Megan gave Wilsom a meaningful look and the farmer nodded.
"Yes, I think we're quite done here," and he got up from his chair.
The party gathered its belongings and set out towards Wilsom's farm. Outside town there were quite a few farms, ranging from wheat to potatoes. After morning breakfast each of them was bustling with activity, getting ready to sow seeds and plant new plants for a good summer harvest. Wilsom's farm was an hour away, across a dusty, winding road towards the natural border of Austeria in the east.
"We're here," Wilsom finally said.
Wilsom's farm was one of the biggest in the neighbourhood with almost a hundred white sheep bleating happily in his vast meadow. When they approached the farm a brown-black mottled sheperd dog ran towards them and jumped against Wilsom.
"Down boy!" Wilsom laughed, "This one's got a lot of energy which is great for herding sheep and not so great for when you're tired after a day's work."
The outer wall of his farm was made a low wall of cobblestone, while the farm itself was a sturdy wooden construction with a wooden roof. A large barn sheltered the sheep in the soft winters with a small butcher shop next to it. Lots of other equipment and tools were scattered across the courtyard.
"Sorry for the mess," Wilsom apologised, "I'm a single man after all. Farmer life doesn't always leave you time to prepare for visitors. The sheep are in the workshop if you're interested. Otherwise the forest is just a mile to the south-east."

The Dwarf thought that was the first reasonable thing one of the odd pair had said so far, and grunted his consent. The wounds would tell them much.

Lath nodded in affirmation that this was the best course of action.

The strange fellow with the bald head had followed the group along the trail, lagging behind and stopping at odd moments to look at something trivial by the side of the road only to be right there at their heels when somebody looked back. Nothing much was said during the trek and the only addition to any conversations taking place that the man had to add were the taps of his walking stick on the rocks below his bare feet.

It was these feet that the man was now inspecting with great care as he hopped onto a fence and lifted one of the dirt-stained toe-bearers closer to his face. He plucked at a thorn that was stuck under the ball of his foot. When the annoyance had been removed, he looked out over the meadow where the sheep bleated and grazed and wondered why the farmer was so upset about wolves but didn't mind leaving his sheep behind for what was basically a half a day trek into town.

From one of the folds of his strange clothes he produced a short stick of some material which you knew to come from far away landsand. He blew a discordant note on it and then quickly readjusted his fingers over the holes along the length of the stick. He held the thing sideways under his mouth and then started blowing quick notes in happy echoing melodies.

"I believe you also have a cricket problem on your farm sir."

OOC: HAH!

"Alright, let go then," said Wilsom. When somebody noted the sound of crickets in the background he simply remarked, "Is that a problem? I find it rather soothing."
The workshop was nothing more than a wooden shed of 15 feet wide and 30 feet deep. Most of the space was taken by a bloodied workbench on the left and various hooks with a hanging carcass, buckets and some shelves on the right. The workbench looked sturdy enough and could easily handle the two dead sheep lying on top of it. There were lanterns above the workbench, but with the daylight providing enough light they stayed unlit.
The marks looked wolf-like enough. Some hesistant bite marks in the back, followed by firm rips and gashes in the neck to finish it off. Most of the lower body was gone on the first, probably eaten where the flesh was most tender and the second wasn't in a much better shape, but at least showed remants that it was once a four-legged creature.
"Not sure what you're trying to find here, but I'll leave you to it," said Wilsom and he went back outside.

Lath gently pushed his way closer to the bench and started to examine the decimated creatures.

Though the creature had been torn to be barely recognizable something about it's current state fascinated Lath and he looked it over closely to see if anything stood out.

Nature: +3

The member 'Dagnon' has done the following action : Dice roll

'20 Sided' : 16

The Dwarf considered the wounds inflicted upon the sheep. They did seem rather wolf-like he supposed. "Nothing obviously wrong. Perhaps something drove the wolves out of the deep woods?"

Bryn looks over the remains of the sheep, he didn't know much about wolves but it couldn't hurt to look.

Investigation +5

The member 'kabetts' has done the following action : Dice roll

'20 Sided' : 5

Lath's knowledge about the animal kingdom made him able to verify that the wounds inflicted onto the sheep matched those you would expect from a wolf. This gave rise to the theory that something drove the wolves away from deer and to sheep.

OOC:
Award: 50 xp